The Exercise and Profit of Godliness 2
Back to J. C. Philpot Sermons
B. But we pass on to consider how this "godliness," or rather, the "exercise" of godliness is "profitable unto all things." The Apostle speaking of "bodily exercise" declares that it "profits little—but godliness," he says, "is profitable unto all things." What a comprehensive term—"all things!" So that there cannot arise a single circumstance in which and unto which godliness shall not be profitable. All states, all circumstances, all conditions; adversity or prosperity; what the world calls happiness, or what the world calls misery—take all the complicated circumstances that befall a child of God through his pilgrimage here below; and of them all, and in them all, unto them all, godliness is profitable. Not always to his feelings, not always in his judgment, not always in his apprehension; for, usually speaking, the things most profitable are to our feelings the most painful. And yet, "godliness is profitable unto all things." You cannot be placed in any adverse circumstance in which godliness is not profitable; you cannot suffer any affliction in which godliness is not profitable; you cannot meet with any trial unto which godliness is not profitable. There is not a single event that can befall you, in providence or in grace, unto which godliness will not be found in the end really and truly profitable.
But what is "profitable?" I may define it in one short sentence—that which does the soul good. Now "godliness" is profitable unto all things, as doing the soul good in all circumstances. Here it stands apart and separate from everything of a worldly nature. Here it is distinguished from the "bodily exercise that profits little." It is "profitable unto all things." In sickness, in health; in sunshine, in storm; upon the mount, in the valley; under whatever circumstances the child of God may be, "godliness," or rather the "exercise" of godliness, is profitable. And it is drawn out by these circumstances. It lives in the face of trials; it is strengthened by opposition; it becomes victorious through defeat; it gains the day in spite of every foe; it "stands every storm, and lives at last."
It does not die away like "bodily exercise;" it does not bloom and fade in an hour; it is not like Jonah's gourd that grew and withered in a night; it does not leave the soul in the horrors of despair when it most needs comfort; it is not a fickle, false friend that turns its back in the dark and cloudy days of adversity. It is "a friend that loves at all times," for the Author of it "sticks closer than a brother." It can come to a bed of sickness when the body is racked with pain; it can enter a dungeon, as with Paul and Silas when their feet were in the stocks; it can go, and has gone with martyrs to the stake; it soothes the pillow of death; it takes the soul into eternity; and therefore, it is "profitable unto all things." It is a firm friend; a blessed companion; the life of the soul; the health of the heart; yes, "Christ himself in you, the hope of glory." It is God's own work, God's own grace, God's own Spirit, God's own life, God's own power, God's own dealings, which end in God's own happiness; and therefore, it is "profitable unto all things."
But compare this work of grace upon the soul, this teaching of God in the heart, this life of faith within—compare this vital, spiritual, heavenly, divine, supernatural religion, with that flimsy counterfeit, "bodily exercise." Compare the actings of real faith, real hope, real love; the teachings, the dealings, the leadings, and the operations of the blessed Spirit in the soul, with rounds of duties, superstitious forms, empty ceremonies, and a notional religion, however puffed up, however varnished. Compare the life of God in the heart of a saint, amid all his dejection, despondency, trials, temptations, and exercises—compare that precious treasure, Christ's own grace in the soul, with all mere external, superficial, flimsy, notional religion. O, it is no more to be compared than a grain of dust with a diamond; no more to be compared than a criminal in a dungeon to the sovereign on the throne. In fact, there is no comparison between them.
O what a mercy for you and me if we are partakers of godliness; if the Lord's own grace be in our soul; if there be anything divine in our heart! We shall find it "profitable unto all things." It will not go out in darkness; it will not expire like a flickering lamp; but will burn brighter and brighter unto the perfect day. We need envy none, if we are partakers of one grain of vital godliness. We need envy no professor, however high—no, we need envy no child of God himself, however favored. If there be real grace in our souls, it will be found "profitable unto all things." It will do the soul good. There is a reality in it; a blessedness in it; for there is eternal life and immortal bliss in it. It is of and from God; it came from God, and leads to God. It begins on earth, but it is consummated in heaven. And therefore, well may we say, it is "profitable unto all things."
C. But there is another thing said of it—that it has "promise of the life that NOW is." What is "the life that now is?" And how has godliness the promise of that as well as of the future?
1. "The life that now is"—the life that we live in the flesh—the life of these mortal bodies—is, for the most part, a life of AFFLICTION. For the Lord has chosen his Zion in the furnace of affliction. If we suffer with him, we are to be glorified together. Now godliness has "the promise of the life that now is," as a life of affliction. And O, how real affliction deadens us to everything else! When there is no affliction, the world dances before us with a sunbeam upon it—attractive, dazzling, and beautiful; and we, in our carnal minds, can fly from flower to flower as a butterfly in the sun. Our religion is at a very low ebb when this is the case—there may be a decent profession; but as to any life and power, how little is there except when affliction presses the soul down! True religion lies deep—it is not a balloon hovering over us miles up in the air. It is like truth—it lies at the bottom of the well. We must go down then into religion if we are to have it really in our hearts.
The Lord Jesus Christ was "a Man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief." He took the lowest, last, and least place. He was always down; so that if we are to be companions with the Lord Jesus Christ, we must go down with him—down into the valley, down into sufferings, down into humiliation, down into trial, down into sorrow. When we get puffed up by worldly joy, or elated by carnal excitement, we do not sympathize with the Lord Jesus Christ in his suffering manhood; we do not go with him then into the garden of Gethsemane, nor behold him as "the Lamb of God" on the accursed tree.
We can do without Jesus very well when the world smiles, and carnal things are uppermost in our heart. But let affliction come, a heavy cross, a burden to weigh us down, then we drop into the place where the Lord Jesus Christ is only to be found. We find then if the Lord is pleased to bring a little godliness into the soul, and to draw forth this godliness into vital exercise, that it has "the promise of the life that now is." There are promises connected with it of support and strength, comfort, consolation, and peace, that the world knows nothing of; there is a truth in it, a power, a reality, a blessedness in it, that tongue can never express. And when the soul gets pressed down into the valley of affliction, and the Lord is pleased to meet with it there, and visit it then, and draw forth godliness in its acting and exercises, then it is found to have "the promise of the life that now is." Faith, hope, love, repentance, prayerfulness, humility, contrition, long-suffering, and peace—all these gifts and graces of the Spirit are exercised chiefly when the soul is down in affliction. Here is "the promise of the life that now is," in the drawing forth of these heavenly graces in the heart.
2. "The life that now is," is a life of TEMPTATION. "He was tempted in all points like as we are, yet without sin." (Heb. 4:15.) "Jesus was led up into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil." (Matt. 4:1.) And we are to share with him in these sufferings as well. It is, then, a life of temptation. O, how continually is the poor child of God tempted! And what strong temptations! how painful, how powerful! how distracting! how entangling! how harassing! how bewitching! How Satanic is the black devil! How more Satanic is the white devil! How continually is the child of God exercised with temptation! Temptation so suitable, so powerful, so overpowering, that nothing but the grace of God can ever subdue the temptation, or deliver the soul out of it.
But godliness has the promise of "the life that now is," though "the life that now is," for the most part, is a life of temptation. For it is when godliness is in exercise, that the strength of temptation is defeated. But where are we? What are we? What do we do? What should we not do? when sin and temptation meet together, and the Lord's grace does not intervene? Now "godliness has the promise of the life that now is," that you "shall not be tempted above that you are able to bear, but with the temptation God will make a way to escape that you may be able to bear it;" and thus deliver (for the Lord knows how to deliver) "the godly out of temptation." He can either break the temptation to pieces, or else deliver you from the temptation altogether.
3. But it is a life of TRIAL. "The Lord tries the righteous." (Ps. 11:5.) In fact a righteous life is for the most part a tried life. There is not a child of God, whose graces are lively and active, that is not tried in his soul. I have no more belief that the soul can live without exercise than that the body can. The more the soul is exercised, the healthier it will be. Trial is one main source of exercise. If you are tried as to your standing, tried as to your state, tried as to the reality of the work of grace upon your soul; tried as to your soul; tried as to your experience; tried as to your manifestations, deliverances, and evidences; tried by your sins, tried by Satan, tried by professors, tried by profane; and, above all, tried by your own heart, and that continually—it will keep your soul in exercise.
D. And this is "exercise unto godliness." If these exercises are unto godliness, they lead to godliness, they take you on your way to godliness, they bring you near to godliness, they bring you into godliness; and, above all things, they bring godliness into your soul. And thus, there is an exercise of the soul unto godliness. Does not your heart at times seem without a grain of it? You see what godliness is in its nature, in its branches, in its fruits, in its graces, in what a Christian should be, practically, experimentally, and really—outwardly and inwardly—in the church and in the world. You say, 'Am I Christian? Am I a godly man or woman? Let me compare myself with godliness. Am I godly? Is there grace in my heart? Do I live? do I speak? do I think? do I act? do I walk? do I live as becomes a Christian? Is my life, my profession, my conduct—in the family, in the world—in the business, in the church—at home, abroad—openly, secretly—privately, publicly—is it such that I can take it and lay it down, step by step, with vital, real, experimental, scriptural godliness? O,' you say, 'I shrink back from the test. There are many things in me inwardly and outwardly which will not bear to be weighed up with godliness as revealed in the scriptures of truth.'
Well, your mind is exercised, I suppose, when you have these workings. Now what is the result? It is an exercise unto godliness. You want it; you strive for it; you cry for it; you press after it; you know that none but the Lord can work it in your soul; you feel needy, naked, and destitute; you know that without it you can neither happily live nor die; yet have it you must, or perish body and soul forever.
Now if this is going on in a poor sinner's heart day after day, it will be an exercise unto godliness. And this godliness has "the promise of the life that now is," because godliness is "profitable unto all things;" and has promises, precious promises to those who are thus exercised. "My grace is sufficient for you." (2 Cor. 12:9.) "As your day is, so shall your strength be." (Deut. 33:25.) "My sheep shall never perish, neither shall any pluck them out of my hand." (John 10:29.) "He who has begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ." (Phil. 1:6.) "I will never leave you, nor forsake you." (Hebrews 13:5.) "Come unto me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." (Matt. 11:28.) "Look unto me, and be saved, all the ends of the earth; for I am God, and there is none else." (Isa. 45:22.) Thus, godliness has "the promise of the life that now is," in having such suitable promises to the souls that are exercised unto godliness.
Is your soul exercised? If your soul is exercised, you will find it is unto godliness; and you will see at times a beauty in godliness, compared to which everything else shrinks into nothing. For Christ is himself godliness, the Author and the Finisher; the head and object; the beginning, the middle, and end; and therefore to have godliness, is to have Christ.
A few words more, and I conclude. Godliness has the promise also of "the life that is to COME." It supports in life and in death; and takes the soul into a happy and blessed eternity; and therefore has "the promise of the life that is to come." Grace will end in glory; faith in sight; hope in fruition. The soul taught of God will see Jesus as he is. Thus godliness has "the promise of the life which is to come," when eternal peace shall abound, tears be wiped from off all faces, and grace consummated in endless bliss!
Back to J. C. Philpot Sermons