Declension in Religion

I am very anxious that you should read this address with unusual attention, seriousness, and devoutness of mind; that you would select some season of leisure and solitude for its perusal; and that the perusal should be accompanied by earnest supplication to God for the help of his Spirit to render it a blessing to your soul. Do not proceed until your heart has ascended, by the prayer of faith, to open the treasury of Divine grace.

It is a subject of unusual solemnity that is now to be brought under review; a matter of fearful importance. Declension! In what? Not in health—not in property—not in friends—not in worldly consequence or enjoyment—though these are all distressing—but in piety; in this highest, and deepest, and most enduring of all man's interests—the interests of his soul. Recollect, I am not going to speak of final apostasy, or open backsliding—but of that which, though it is at present far short of it, yet is the way to it.

Declension means a state of mind and heart, rather than of outward conduct; or, at any rate, of conduct which does not come under the head of immorality; of conduct which does not subject a man to the discipline of the church, or to the reproach of the world; of conduct which neither in his own estimation, nor that of others, blasts his reputation, or casts off his profession—but which yet shows his religion to be gradually diminishing in its source, power, and operation.

What renders it of more consequence that you should read this address with anxious attention, is the deceitfulness of the heart, by the duplicity of which, aided by the machinations of Satan, you may be woefully declining, without hardly suspecting it. Many a tradesman is ignorant of the declining course of his affairs, until some circumstances lead him to examine his stock and his books; when he finds, to his dismay, he is on the verge of ruin. I implore you, then, to read these pages with a devout and inquisitive mind. With a mind really desirous and solicitous to know your true condition. As you go from one mark to another, pause, look inward, compare, inquire.

Your religion, then, is declining—

When you are reluctant to spiritual conversation, and the company of serious heavenly-minded Christians; and enjoy yourself best with men of the world.

When from preference, rather than necessity, you are often absent from weekly religious services, confine yourself to Sabbath meetings, are easily detained from them, and are ready at an excuse or pretext for such neglects.

When there are certain duties which you are afraid to consider closely and seriously, lest your conscience rebuke past neglect, and insist on your fidelity now.

When it is more your object, in going through with a duty, to pacify conscience, than to honor Christ, obtain spiritual profit and growth in grace, or do good to others.

When you have an over-critical spirit respecting preaching; are dissatisfied with the manner of the preacher—as inelegant, or too plain, or too intellectual, or not according to some favorite model; or with the matter of preaching—as too doctrinal, or too preceptive; or when you complain of it as too close and searching.

When you are more afraid of being accounted strict, than of sinning against Christ by negligence in practice, and infidelity to 'your Lord and 'Master.'

When you have little fear of temptation, and can trifle with spiritual danger.

When you have strong thirsting for the acceptance of men of the world, and concern to know what they think or say of you, rather than whether you honor the Savior in their sight; in short, are more occupied with the question, 'What will men think of me?' than 'What does God see me to be?'

When scandals to religion are more the subject of your censorious conversation with men, than of your secret grieving and prayer before God concerning them, and of your faithful endeavors for their removal.

When you are more afraid to encounter the eye and the scorn of an offending man, by rebuking his sin, than of offending God, by neglect to rebuke him.

When you calculate more carefully for the security of worldly prosperity, than for that of your precious soul; are more bent on being rich than holy.

When you cannot receive, patiently and humbly, deserved and kind reproof for faults; are unwilling to confess your faults, and in the habit of always justifying yourself.

When you are impatient and unforbearing towards the frailties, misjudgments, and faults of others.

When your reading of the Bible is formal, hasty, lesson-wise, or merely intellectual; and unattended with self-application, quickening to conscience, and gracious affections, increase of prayerfulness, watchfulness, readiness for every good work; or when you read almost any other book with more interest than the book of God.

When you have more religion abroad and in public, than at home and in secret; are apparently fervent and elevated when 'seen by men,' but languid, cold, careless, when seen only in the family, or by God alone.

When you call spiritual sloth and withdrawment from Christian activity by the names of prudence and peaceableness, while sinners are going to destruction, and the church suffering declension; unmindful that prudence can be united with apostolic fidelity, and peaceableness with most anxious and diligent seeking of the salvation of souls.

When, because there is fanaticism and false zeal abroad in the world, you will neither trust yourself, nor countenance in others, even that 'fervency in spirit, serving the Lord,' which Paul taught and practiced.

When you are, secretly, more gratified at the missteps and falls of some professor of another denomination, or at variance with you, than grieved for the wounds he inflicts upon Christ, and the hazard in which he places his own soul.

When under chastisement of Providence, you think more of your sufferings than your deserts; and look more for relief than purification from sin.

When you confess—but do not forsake, your besetting sins.

When you acknowledge—but still neglect, duty.

When, for slight pretexts, or under slight temptations—any indeed—you step across the strict, straight lines of the Divine law—for example, doing improper things on the Sabbath; not being exactly just in business transactions; swerving from strict veracity; and do such things without much shrinking of conscience.

When your cheerfulness has more of the levity of the unregenerate, than of the holy joy of the sons of God.

When you live so little like a Christian, that you are embarrassed and ashamed in attempting religious duties to, or in the presence of, men of the world.

When you say in yourself, of this or that sin, 'Is it not a little one?' or, 'The Lord pardon your servant in this thing,' and think so lightly of some sins, called small, that you are learning not to be much disturbed respecting some great ones.

When the habit of neglecting some known duty is pleaded as an excuse for the neglect, instead of an aggravation, and a reason for deeper penitence.

When you have so many worldly plans, and please yourself so much with success, that you are unwilling or afraid to think of death, and even of 'departure to be with Christ;' and in your daily manner of living say, 'I would live here always.'

When you think more of being saved by Christ, than of serving Christ—more of security of heaven, and the comfort and quietness of such security, than of deliverance from sin, saving dying men, and thus honoring God.

When you shut your eyes from self-examination, for fear of what you shall find in yourself to alarm you and shake your hope.

When you lean on the opinion of others that you are a Christian, instead of faithfully searching your heart and life, and comparing them with the 'sure word,' so that you may find scriptural evidences of your hope.

When you speak more frequently of declension in the church than in your own heart; or talk of both more than you mourn and pray before God, and labor for a better state of things.

When the worldly spirit, savor and cares of the week follow you farther into the sabbath than the spirit and savor of the sabbath follow you into the week.

When you are easily induced to make your duty as a Christian, bend to your worldly interest.

When you can be in frequent association with men of the world, without solicitude lest they do your soul hurt, or you do theirs no good, or both.

When, in your thoughts, reading, or conversation on religious subjects, your clearness of head, ingenuity, and justness of conclusions, far outgo your spirituality, and heartiness, and love to Christ and his gospel.

When your orthodoxy is the most, or all there is, which is right in you; and when you contend more about its positions, and against the erroneous theories and opinions of men, than you strive for holiness, and fight against sin in yourself and in the world around you.

When your zeal, instead of being 'according to knowledge,' is according to your pride and prejudice; and more occupied in censuring the coldness of others, than in affectionate endeavors to persuade them to do their duty, and quietly and humbly to do your own.

When your activity in religion depends upon the excitement of occasions, and the peculiarity of means and measures; instead of being the fruit of steady, spiritual-minded, unselfish principle; and when you take more delight in the bustle of outward and popular religious movements, than in secret communion with God, and in duties in which you are retired from the notice of men.

When you think more of 'the mote in your brother's eye,' than of the 'beam in your own eye.'

"When you find it difficult to tell wherein you are essentially different, as to your state of heart and habits of life, from what you were before you professed to be a Christian."

What a list! What a test! How searching! Whose heart can abide the scrutiny? Yet which of these marks can be disputed? Is there one of them that implies anything of an opposite nature, which we ought not to be, and to do?

Next Part Declension in Religion 2

Back to John Angell James