Baptists -- Sermons; Sermons, English -- 19th century
That point will often be raised, for doubt is a seed which is sure to
grow in lazy men's minds. I do not remember reading in Mr. Wesley's
diary a question about his own salvation. He was so busy in the harvest
of the Master that it did not occur to him to distrust his God. Some
Christians have little faith in consequence of their having never sown
the grain of mustard-seed which they have received. If you do not sow
your faith by using it, how can it grow? When a man lives by faith in
Christ Jesus, and his faith exercises itself actively in the service of
his Lord, it takes root, grows upward, and become strong, till it chokes
his doubts. Some have sadly morbid forebodings; they are discontented,
fretful, selfish, murmuring, and all because they are idle. These are
the weeds that grow in sluggards' gardens. I have known the slothful
become so peevish that nothing could please them; the most earnest
Christian could not do right for them; the most loving Christians could
not be affectionate enough; the most active church could not be
energetic enough; they detected all sorts of wrong where God himself saw
much of the fruit of his Spirit. This censoriousness, this contention,
this perpetual complaining is one of the nettles that are quite sure to
grow in men's gardens when they fold their arms in sinful ease. If your
heart does not yield fruit to God it will certainly bring forth that
which is mischievous in itself, painful to you, and injurious to your
fellow-men. Often the thorns choke the good seed; but it is a very
blessed thing when the good seed comes up so thick and fast that it
chokes the thorns. God enables certain Christians to become so fruitful
in Christ that their graces and works stand thick together, and when
Satan throws in the tares they cannot grow because there is no room for
them. The Holy Spirit by his power makes evil to become weak in the
heart, so that it no longer keeps the upper hand. If you are slothful,
friend, look over the field of your heart, and weep at the sight.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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