Watson's Gems

Faith

Faith is a precious grace, because it lays hold on Christ, the one blessed object, and draws in his fullness. The worth lies not in faith itself, but in Christ, on whom it centers and rests.

Faith is the vital artery of the soul. When we begin to believe, we begin to love. Faith grafts the soul into Christ as the cutting into the rootstock, and draws all its nourishment from the blessed Vine.

Faith is a heart-purifying grace, a virgin grace of a pure and heavenly nature. Faith in the soul is as lightning in the air: it purifies. It is as fire under metals: it refines. Faith does not only justify; it sanctifies. Faith and the love of sin can no more stand together than light and darkness.

Faith is a heart-strengthening grace. A believer is like Joseph, of whom, though the archers shot at him, "his bow abode in strength." Faith lays in the strength to suffer, furnishes the soul with promises for suffering, gathers together the graces for suffering, and holds out the rewards of suffering.

Faith often lies hidden in the heart, and we do not see it for lack of searching, as fire lies hidden in the embers. But blow aside the ashes, and it becomes visible.

That is precious faith which, like the star, shines brightest in the darkest night. It is good that our graces should be brought to trial; so we have the comfort, and the Gospel the honor.

True faith will take God's single bond, without calling for witnesses.

Faith shows the believer better things than the world can show: it gives a sight of Christ and glory, and a prospect of heaven. As the mariner in a dark night climbs to the top of the mast and cries out, "I see a star!" so faith climbs up above sense and reason into heaven, and sees Christ, that bright Morning Star.

As the bee gathers the sweetest honey from the most bitter herbs, so faith gathers the sweetest consolations from the garden of Gethsemane and the hill of Calvary, for they show God reconciled and sin pardoned.

Faith knows there are no impossibilities with God, and will trust him when it cannot trace him.

Faith draws everything from Christ and gives all the glory to Christ. So God has singled out this grace to be the condition of the covenant: "He that believeth shall be saved."

Faith consecrates and purifies. It makes the heart a temple, over the portal of which is the inscription, "Holiness to the Lord." The jewel of faith is always placed in the cabinet of a pure conscience.

Faith is seated in the understanding as well as in the will. It has an eye to see Christ as well as a wing to fly to Christ.

Faith begins in weakness. It smokes with desires but does not yet flame with comfort. At first it is small as a grain of seed, but when real, it grows to a tree, lofty as the palm and wide-spreading as the cedar.

As fire is to the chemist, so is faith to the Christian. Faith makes Christ's sacrifice ours. It is not gold in the mine that enriches, but gold in the hand. Faith is the hand that receives Christ's golden merits. Without faith, Christ himself will not avail us.

Love takes possession of heaven, but faith gives a title to it. Love is the crowning grace in heaven, but faith is the conquering grace on earth.

A weak faith may lay hold on a strong Christ. The promise does not say that he who has a great faith which can remove mountains and stop the mouth of lions shall be saved, but "whosoever believes" (be his faith ever so small) "shall be saved." A reed is but a reed, especially when bruised, yet the promise is made to it: "A bruised reed will he not break." A weak faith may be fruitful. Weak Christians may have strong affections, and the weakest believer is a member of Christ as well as the strongest. Christ will cast off fruitless members, but not weak ones.

Faith is not a plant of nature's garden. It is a "fruit of the Spirit." Faith is the queen of the graces. It is the condition of the gospel: "Thy faith hath saved thee," not your tears. "The soul shall live by faith." Unbelievers, though they breathe, yet lack life. Faith is a mother-grace: it excites and invigorates all the other graces. Not a grace stirs until faith sets it to work. Faith induces repentance, as fire sets the still working. Faith sets hope to work: first we believe the promise, then we hope for it. Faith sets love to work, as it is "faith which worketh by love." Who can believe in the infinite merits of Christ and not have his heart ascend in the fiery chariot of love? Faith is a sheet-anchor we cast into the sea of God's mercy, and by it we are kept from sinking into despair.

Faith in the Mediator brings more glory to God than martyrdom.

Faith and Hope are two sisters. They bear a resemblance to each other, yet differ in this: faith looks at the certainty of the promise; hope looks at the excellence of the promise.

Faith puts upon the soul the embroidered robe of Christ's righteousness, in which it shines brighter than the angels.

Faith is the key that unlocks the cabinet of the promises and empties out their treasures into the soul.

Faith overcomes all the allurements of the world, all its riches, and all its delights. It does this by showing the soul "the land that is afar off." It carries the believer to the Mount of Transfiguration and confidently assures him of "a better country," a "land that floweth with milk and honey."

Faith is a living principle, and the life of a saint is nothing but a life of faith. His prayer is the breathing of faith, his obedience is the result of faith, his life is a life of faith, and he dies in faith: "I know whom I have believed."

The torchlight of faith shall be kept burning, even as the winds of temptation continue blowing.

Grace, and the Graces of the Spirit

Grace is the work of the Spirit; comfort is the seal of the Spirit; the work goes before the seal. The graces of the Spirit are compared to water: "For I will pour water upon him that is thirsty, and floods upon the dry ground. I will pour my Spirit on thy seed, and my blessing on thy offspring." The comforts of the Spirit are compared to oil: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, to give the oil of joy for mourning." First God pours in the water of the Spirit, and then comes the oil of gladness. By this we shall know whether our comforts are true and genuine. Some speak of the comforting Spirit who never had the sanctifying Spirit; they boast of assurance but never had grace. God's Spirit will never set his seal to a blank. The heart must first be an epistle written with the finger of the Holy Ghost, and then it is sealed with the Spirit of promise.

Grace is the infusion of new and holy principles into the heart, by which it is changed from what it was and made after God's own heart. Grace infuses light into the understanding, tenderness into the conscience, consent into the will, and harmony into the affections. It is like leaven, pervading the whole person until all is leavened.

Grace satisfies; other riches cannot: "He that loveth silver shall not be satisfied with silver: this is also vanity." Riches can no more fill the heart than a triangle can fill a circle, but grace fills up every chink.

Grace is a string of pearls with which the Church, Christ's Bride, is adorned.

A heart inlaid and enameled with grace is like "the king's daughter, all glorious within." A gracious soul is the image of God, exquisitely drawn with the pencil of the Holy Ghost. A heart beautified with grace is the angels' joy and God's lesser heaven: "I dwell in the high and lofty place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit."

Grace is the flower of the soul, which Christ delights to smell. Grace is to the soul what the eye is to the body, the sun is to the world, and the diamond is to the ring. A soul adorned with grace is as the dove, covered with silver wings and golden feathers.

Grace makes the heart a spiritual temple, with this inscription upon it: "Holiness unto the Lord!"

Grace gives us conformity to Christ and communion with Christ: "Our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ." A person full of grace has Christ in his heart and the world under his feet. Grace humbles, yet elevates.

Grace is aromatic; it embalms the names of the godly. A Christian, when he dies, carries a good conscience with him and leaves a good name behind him.

All the graces display themselves in their beauty. Hope is the "helmet," meekness "the ornament," love the "bond of perfectness."

The believer's graces are weapons to defend him, wings to elevate him, jewels to enrich him, spices to perfume him, stars to adorn him, cordials to revive him, and evidences for heaven when death draws near.

Grace is Christ's portrait drawn on the soul.

A soul beautified with grace is like the firmament, bespangled with brilliant stars.

Grace is the rich embroidery and workmanship of the Holy Ghost; it is the sacred unction; it is a distinguishing blessing. Christ gave Judas his purse, not his Spirit, for grace is a seal of love and an earnest of glory.

Grace does not lie in the heart like a stone in the earth, but as seed that will spring up: "first the blade, then the ear, then the full-grown corn in the ear."

The more we grow in grace, the more we shall flourish in glory. Though every vessel of glory shall be full, some vessels hold more than others. The servant whose pound gained ten was made ruler over ten cities. Those who shall follow the Lamb in whiter and larger robes of glory will be those who shone most brightly in grace here below.

When grace grows, sin cannot thrive.

Grace is the beauty of holiness (Ps 110:3).

Grace changes the Christian's language and makes it spiritual. The body is the temple of God; the tongue is the organ of this temple. "The tongue of the just is as choice silver." He drops silver sentences, enriching others with knowledge. "A good man, out of the good treasure of his heart, bringeth forth good things." "Their mouth is a well-spring of wisdom." Just as a person's language tells what country he belongs to, so he who belongs to the Jerusalem above speaks the language of Canaan.

God's children have various degrees of grace. Some are little children, who feed only on the milk of the gospel; others are young men grown to maturity; others are fathers ready to take their degree in glory. Each has the vitality of godliness. The Scriptures speak both of the cedar and of the bruised reed; each is a plant of God's creation, and each is his care. So the weakest plant in God's garden, the Church, is regarded by him as much as the strongest. God can read the work of his Spirit on the soul that has received the dimmest impression.

Reason makes us human; grace makes us saints.

The river of grace can never dry up, for the Spirit of God is the spring that feeds it.

God makes grace flourish most in the fall of the leaf (Ps 92:14).

Heaven

The meditation of heaven is a pillar of support under all our sufferings; heaven will make amends for all. One hour in heaven will make us forget all our sorrows. As the sun dries up the water, so one beam of God's glorious face will dry up all our tears.

The saints shall receive as much glory as human nature, when glorified, can receive. But although Christ conveys his image to his people, he does not convey his essence. The sun shining upon a glass leaves the impress of its beauty there, but the glass is not the sunbeam; so Christ conveys only his likeness, not his essence.

There will be no sorrow in heaven. One smile from Christ will eradicate all tears. Sorrow is a cloud gathered in the heart upon the apprehension of some evil, and weeping is the cloud of grief dropping into rain; but in heaven the Sun of righteousness shall shine so bright that there shall be neither cloud nor rain.

"There remains a rest for the people of God," not that there will be no motion in heaven, for spirits cannot be idle, but it shall be activity without fatigue or weariness. It shall be labor full of ease, motion full of rest.

Heaven is the highest link of the saint's happiness. The lamp of glory will be ever burning, never wasting. As there is no intermission in the joys of heaven, so there shall be no expiration. When God has once planted his saints in paradise, he will never transplant them: "they shall be for ever with the Lord."

What if all the dust of the earth were turned to silver; what if every stone were a wedge of gold; what if every flower were a ruby, every blade of grass a pearl, every grain of sand a diamond, yet what were all this to "the new Jerusalem, which is above"? It is as impossible for any man to comprehend glory as to "mete the heavens with a span," or drain the mighty ocean.

As the sunshine of blessedness is without clouds, so it never sets.

The sea is not so full of water as the soul of a glorified saint is full of joy. There can be no sorrow in heaven, as there can be no joy in hell.

The glory of heaven will be seasonable. The seasonableness of a mercy adds to its beauty and sweetness: it is like "apples of gold in pictures of silver." Heaven is granted to the saints when their conflicts with sin and sorrow are ended.

Although heaven is given us freely, yet we must strive for it. Our work is great, our Master is urgent, our time is short; we must be earnest as well as diligent. "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with all thy might."

Is there a kingdom of glory coming? Then see how happy are God's saints at their death! They go to a kingdom, they see God's face, which shines ten thousand times brighter than the sun in its full meridian glory; they have in the kingdom of heaven the quintessence of all delights; they have the water of life, clear as crystal; they feed not on the dew of Hermon, but on the manna of angels.

In that kingdom the saints are crowned with perfection; the desires of the glorified souls are infinitely satisfied; there is nothing absent they could wish might be enjoyed, and nothing present that they could wish might be removed. No saint wishes to return from that land of Beulah; they would not leave the fatness and sweetness of the olive to embrace the bramble. What are golden treasures to the gold that never perishes in the kingdom of heaven?

There is glory in its highest elevation. In that kingdom is knowledge without ignorance, holiness without sin, beauty without blemish, strength without weakness, light without darkness, riches without poverty, ease without pain, liberty without restraint, rest without labor, joy without sorrow, love without hatred, plenty without surfeit, honor without disgrace, health without sickness, peace without end, contentment without cessation. Oh, the happiness of those who die in the Lord!

If God says to us, "Ye are mine," he will take us up to himself at death. Death dissolves the union between the body and the soul, but perfects the union between God and the soul; this is the emphasis of heaven's glory, to be with God. "Lead me, Lord, to that glory," said a holy man, "a glimpse of which I have seen as in a glass, darkly."

Prayer

Prayer keeps the heart open to God but shut to sin. It is a key that unlocks God's treasuries of mercy.

When prayer leads the vanguard, deliverance brings up the rear.

Though our sins rise to heaven like smoke from a furnace, Christ's prayers rise like incense.

Prayer ushers in mercy, and prayer sanctifies mercy.

Those who would hold intercourse with God must be much in prayer and mighty in prayer. The incense heated with fire was a type of prayer, teaching us that Christians should have their hearts inflamed in prayer. Cold hearts yield no fragrance.

Prayer is the arrow and faith is the bow by which our requests go up to heaven. A faithless prayer is a fruitless prayer: "The father of the child cried out and said, with tears, Lord, I believe" (Mark 9:24). When his tear dropped to the earth, his faith reached heaven.

One of the ancients said: "The saints carry the keys of heaven at their girdle." Prayer opens the door and takes the blessings from God's hand.

God loves a modest boldness in prayer. Those who come with it will not be turned away.

Prayer is a glorious ordinance. It is the soul trading with heaven: God comes down to us by his Spirit, and we go up to him by prayer.

Prayer without fervency is no prayer. Lifeless prayer is no more prayer than the picture of a man is a man.

The tree of promise will not drop its fruit unless shaken by the hand of prayer.

The prayer most likely to pierce heaven is the one that first pierces the heart of the one who prays it.

When men cast off prayer, it is a sign they have cast off God. It is the mark of an apostate: "thou restrainest prayer before God" (Job 15:4).

Believers have the Spirit of God breathing in them, and God cannot but hear the cries of his own Spirit: "The Lord hearkened and heard" (Mal 3:16).

Silent prayer is not unheard: "Hannah spake in her heart" (1 Sam 1:13). When the heart is so full of grief that it can only groan in prayer, God still records it: "My groaning is not hid from thee" (Ps 38:9).

Prayer is the wall and bulwark of the land. God's vials of indignation are not poured out while the sluices of prayer are open.

Prayer finds God free, but leaves him bound.

A godly man will as soon live without food as without prayer: "Every creature of God is sanctified by prayer" (1 Tim 4:5). The bird never takes a drop from the stream without lifting its eye toward heaven.

The Christian holds communication with heaven and is devoted to closet holiness, while the hypocrite is a saint in the church but an atheist in the closet.

Prayer delights God's ear, melts his heart, and opens his hand. Plead with him earnestly, and either he will remove the affliction or remove your impatience.

Men can never pray fervently who do not pray feelingly, like Samson when he said, "Shall I die for thirst?" (Judg 15:18). Daniel in the den prayed fervently and feelingly, and God shut the lions' mouths and opened the lions' den: "The fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much" (Jas 5:16).

Prayer is the key of heaven, and faith is the hand that turns it: "We cry, Abba, Father" (Rom 8:15). "We cry," there is the fervency; "Abba, Father!", there is the faith. Fervency in prayer is as fire to the incense; it makes it ascend to heaven as a sweet fragrance.

To encourage believers to pray in faith, let them remember the bountifulness of God. He often exceeds the prayers of his people. Hannah asked for a son; God gave her not only a son, but a prophet. Solomon asked for wisdom; God gave him not only wisdom, but riches and honor as well. Jacob asked that God would give him food and clothing; but the Lord increased his riches to two bands. The woman of Canaan asked only for the life of her child; but Christ gave her not only that, but the life of her soul also.