Chapter 5. What It Is to Mortify Sin
The principal intent of the whole discourse proposed. The first main case of conscience stated. What it is to mortify any sin, negatively considered. Not the utter destruction of it in this life. Not the dissimulation of it. Not the improvement of any natural principle. Not the diversion of it. Not an occasional conquest. Occasional conquests of sin — what, and when. Upon the eruption of sin, in time of danger or trouble.
These things being premised, I come to my principal intention, of handling some questions, or practical cases, that present themselves in this business of mortification of sin in believers: the first, which is the head of all the rest; and whereunto they are reduced, may be considered as lying under the ensuing proposal.
Suppose a man to be a true believer, and yet finds in himself a powerful indwelling sin, leading him captive to the law of it, consuming his heart with trouble, perplexing his thoughts, weakening his soul, as to duties of communion with God, disquieting him as to peace, and perhaps defiling his conscience, and exposing him to hardening through the deceitfulness of sin; what shall he do? What course shall he take and insist on, for the mortification of this sin, lust, distemper, or corruption, to such a degree, as that though it be not utterly destroyed, yet in his contest with it, he may be enabled to keep up power, strength and peace, in communion with God?
In answer to this important inquiry, I shall do these things.
1. Show what it is to mortify any sin; and that both negatively and positively, that we be not mistaken in the foundation.
2. Give general directions for such things, as without which it will be utterly impossible for any one to get any sin truly and spiritually mortified.
3. Draw out the particulars whereby this is to be done; in the whole carrying on this consideration, that it is not of the doctrine of mortification in general, but only in reference to the particular case before proposed, that I am treating.
1. To mortify a sin, is not utterly to kill, root it out, and destroy it, that it should have no more hold at all, nor residence in our hearts. It is true, this is that which is aimed at, but this is not in this life to be accomplished. There is no man that truly sets himself to mortify any sin, but he aims at, intends, desires its utter destruction; that it should leave neither root nor fruit in the heart or life. He would so kill it, that it should never move or stir any more; cry or call, seduce or tempt to eternity. Now though doubtless there may by the Spirit and grace of Christ, a wonderful success, and eminency of victory against any sin be attained; so that a man may have almost constant triumph over it; yet an utter killing and destruction of it, that it should not be, is not in this life to be expected. This Paul assures us of (Philippians 3:12): Not as though I had already attained, or were already perfect. He was a choice saint, a pattern for believers, who in faith and love, and all the fruits of the Spirit, had not his equal in the world; and on that account ascribes perfection to himself, in comparison of others (verse 15); yet he had not attained, he was not perfect, but was following after: still a vile body he had, and we have, that must be changed by the great power of Christ at last (verse 21). This we would have, but God sees it best for us, that we should be complete in nothing in ourselves; that in all things we might be complete in Christ, which is best for us (Colossians 2:10).
2. I think I need not say, it is not the dissimulation of a sin; when a man on some outward respects forsakes the practice of any sin, men perhaps may look on him as a changed man; God knows that to his former iniquity he has added cursed hypocrisy, and is got in a safer path to hell than he was in before. He has got another heart than he had, that is more cunning, not a new heart, that is more holy.
3. The mortification of sin consists not in the improvement of a quiet, sedate nature. Some men have an advantage by their natural constitution, so far, as that they are not exposed to such violence of unruly passions, and tumultuous affections, as many others are. Let now these men cultivate and improve their natural frame and temper, by discipline, consideration and prudence, and they may seem to themselves and others, very mortified men, when perhaps their hearts are a standing sink of all abominations. Some man is never so much troubled all his life perhaps with anger and passion, nor does trouble others, as another is almost every day; and yet the latter may have done more to the mortification of the sin, than the former. Let not such persons try their mortification by such things as their natural temper gives no life or vigor to: let them bring themselves to self-denial, unbelief, envy, or some such spiritual sin, and they will have a better view of themselves.
4. A sin is not mortified, when it is only diverted. Simon Magus for a season left his sorceries; but his covetousness and ambition that set him on work, remained still, and would have been acting another way: therefore Peter tells him, I perceive you are in the gall of bitterness; notwithstanding the profession you have made, notwithstanding your relinquishment of your sorceries, your lust is as powerful as ever in you. The same lust, only the streams of it are diverted: it now exerts and puts forth itself another way, but it is the old gall of bitterness still. A man may be sensible of a lust, set himself against the eruptions of it, take care that it shall not break forth, as it has done; but in the mean time suffer the same corrupted habit to vent itself some other way. As he who heals and skins a running sore, thinks himself cured, but in the mean time his flesh festers by the corruption of the same humor, and breaks out in another place. And this diversion, with the alterations that attend it, often befalls men, on accounts wholly foreign unto grace; change of the course of life that a man was in; of relations, interests, designs, may effect it; the very alterations in men's constitutions, occasioned by a natural progress in the course of their lives, may produce such changes as these; men in age do not usually persist in the pursuit of youthful lusts, although they have never mortified any one of them. And the same is the case of bartering of lusts; and leaving to serve one, that a man may serve another. He that changes pride for worldliness, sensuality for Pharisaism, vanity in himself to the contempt of others; let him not think that he has mortified the sin that he seems to have left. He has changed his master, but is a servant still.
5. Occasional conquests of sin do not amount to a mortifying of it.
There are two occasions or seasons, wherein a man who is contending with any sin, may seem to himself to have mortified it.
(1.) When it has had some sad eruption to the disturbance of his peace, terror of his conscience, dread of scandal, and evident provocation of God. This awakens and stirs up all that is in the man, and amazes him; fills him with abhorrence of sin, and himself for it; sends him to God, makes him cry out as for life, to abhor his lust as hell, and to set himself against it. The whole man, spiritual and natural being now awakened, sin shrinks in its head, appears not, but lies as dead before him. As when one that has drawn near to an army in the night, and has killed a principal person; instantly the guards awake, men are roused up, and strict inquiry is made after the enemy; who in the mean time, until the noise and tumult be over, hides himself, or lies like one that is dead, yet with firm resolution to do the like mischief again, upon the like opportunity. Upon the sin among the Corinthians, see how they muster up themselves for the surprisal and destruction of it (2 Corinthians 7:11). So it is in a person, when a breach has been made upon his conscience, quiet, perhaps credit, by his lust, in some eruption of actual sin; carefulness, indignation, desire, fear, revenge, are all set on work about it, and against it, and lust is quiet for a season, being run down before them; but when the hurry is over, and the inquest past, the thief appears again alive, and is as busy as ever at his work.
(2.) In a time of some judgment, calamity, or pressing affliction; the heart is then taken up with thoughts and contrivances of flying from the present troubles, fears and dangers. This, as a convinced person concludes, is to be done, only by relinquishment of sin, which gains peace with God. It is the anger of God in every affliction that galls a convinced person. To be quit of this, men resolve at such times against their sins. Sin shall never more have any place in them; they will never again give up themselves to the service of it. Accordingly sin is quiet, stirs not, seems to be mortified; not indeed that it has received any one wound, but merely because the soul has possessed its faculties, whereby it should exert itself, with thoughts inconsistent with the motions thereof; which when they are laid aside, sin returns again to its former life and vigor. So they (Psalm 78:32-38) are a full instance and description of this frame of spirit whereof I speak.
For all this they sinned still, and believed not for his wondrous works.
Therefore their days did he consume in vanity, and their years in trouble.
When he slew them, then they sought him, and they returned, and inquired early after God.
And they remembered that God was their rock, and the high God their Redeemer.
Nevertheless they did flatter him with their mouth, and they lied unto him with their tongues.
For their heart was not right with him, neither were they steadfast in his covenant.
I do not doubt, but that when they sought, and returned, and inquired early after God, they did it with full purpose of heart, as to the relinquishment of their sins: it is expressed in the word returned. To turn or return to the Lord, is by a relinquishment of sin. This they did early, with earnestness, and diligence; but yet their sin was unmortified for all this (verses 36, 37); and this is the state of many humiliations in the days of affliction; and a great deceit in the hearts of believers themselves, lies oftentimes herein.
These and many other ways there are, whereby poor souls deceive themselves, and suppose they have mortified their lusts, when they live and are mighty, and on every occasion break forth to their disturbance and disquietness.
The final principle: the usefulness of mortification. The vigor and comfort of our spiritual life depend on our mortification. In what sense — not absolutely and necessarily (Psalm 88; Heman's condition). Not as the next and immediate cause. As a means: by removing what is contrary. The desperate effects of an unmortified lust: it weakens the soul (Psalm 38:3, 8) in various ways and darkens it. All graces are strengthened by the mortification of sin. Mortification is the best evidence of sincerity.
The final principle I will address — setting aside for now 1. the necessity of mortification for life, and 2. the certainty of life through mortification — is this:
The life, vigor, and comfort of our spiritual life depend greatly on our mortification of sin.
Strength, comfort, power, and peace in our walk with God are what our souls desire. If any of us were asked honestly what troubles us, it would come down to one of two things: either we lack strength, power, and vitality in our obedience and walk with God, or we lack peace, comfort, and consolation in it. Whatever troubles a believer that does not belong to one of these two heads is not worth dwelling on in our complaints. Both of these depend greatly on a consistent practice of mortification. Consider the following:
1. I do not say they flow from mortification as if they were necessarily tied to it. A man may live a consistent life of mortification all his days and yet perhaps never enjoy a good day of peace and consolation. Such was the case with Heman (Psalm 88). His life was one of perpetual mortification and walking with God, yet terrors and wounds were his portion all his days. But God singled out Heman — a choice friend — to make him an example for all who would afterward be in distress. Can you complain if your own experience is no different from that of Heman, that eminent servant of God? His story will be his praise to the end of the world. God declares it His own prerogative to speak peace and consolation (Isaiah 57:18-19): 'I will comfort him,' says God — but how? By an immediate act of new creation: 'I create it,' says God. Using the means for obtaining peace is our responsibility; bestowing it is God's prerogative.
2. Among the means God has appointed to give us life, vigor, courage, and consolation, mortification is not itself the immediate cause of these things. The privileges of our adoption, made known to our souls, are what immediately produce these things. The Spirit bearing witness with our spirits that we are children of God — giving us a new name and a white stone — adoption and justification understood as to our sense and knowledge of them, are the immediate causes (in the Spirit's hand) of these things. But this is what I affirm:
3. In our ordinary walk with God, and in God's ordinary dealings with us, the vigor and comfort of our spiritual life depend greatly on our mortification — not only as a necessary condition but as something that has a real and effective influence on it.
First, mortification alone keeps sin from robbing us of both life and comfort. Every unmortified sin will certainly do two things:
1. It will weaken the soul and deprive it of its vigor.
2. It will darken the soul and deprive it of its comfort and peace.
(1) It weakens the soul and strips it of strength. When David had harbored an unmortified lust in his heart for a time, it broke all his bones and left him with no spiritual strength. He complained of being sick, weak, wounded, and faint: 'There is no soundness in me' (Psalm 38:3); 'I am feeble and severely broken' (verse 8); 'I cannot so much as look up' (Psalm 40:12). An unmortified lust will drain the spirit and all the vitality of the soul, leaving it weak for all duties.
1. It throws the heart itself into disorder by entangling its affections. It diverts the heart from the spiritual condition required for vigorous communion with God. It takes hold of the affections, making its object seem lovable and desirable, and so expels the love of the Father (1 John 2:1; 3:17). The soul can no longer say sincerely and truly to God, 'You are my portion,' because something else has captured its love. Fear, desire, and hope — the primary affections of the soul, which should be full of God — will be entangled with it one way or another.
2. It fills the thoughts with schemes around it. Thoughts are the great providers of the soul, bringing in resources to satisfy its affections. If sin remains unmortified in the heart, the thoughts must constantly be making provision for the flesh, to fulfill its lusts. They must gloss over, adorn, and dress up the objects of the flesh and bring them home to give satisfaction. This they can accomplish in the service of a corrupt imagination beyond all description.
3. It breaks out and actively hinders duty. The ambitious man must be scheming, the worldly man must be working or contriving, and the sensual or vain person must be pursuing pleasure when they should be engaged in the worship of God.
If it were my current purpose to set forth the damage, ruin, weakness, and devastation that one unmortified lust will bring upon a soul, this discussion would need to extend far beyond my intended scope.
(2) As sin weakens, so it darkens the soul. It is a cloud — a thick cloud — that spreads itself over the face of the soul and blocks all the beams of God's love and favor. It takes away all sense of the privileges of our adoption. When the soul begins to gather thoughts of consolation, sin quickly scatters them. More on this later.
In this respect, the vigor and power of our spiritual life depend on mortification. It is the only means of removing what robs us of both. People who are sick and wounded under the power of lust try many remedies. They cry out to God when the confusion of their thoughts overwhelms them. They cry to God but are not delivered. They try many remedies in vain and are not healed (Hosea 5:13). People may recognize their sickness and wounds, but if they do not apply the right treatment, they will not be cured.
Second, mortification prunes all God's graces and makes room for them to grow in our hearts. The life and vigor of our spiritual lives consist in the vitality and flourishing of the graces planted in our hearts. Consider a garden: plant a precious herb, leave the ground untended, and let weeds grow around it. The herb may survive, but it will be a poor, withering, useless thing. You have to search carefully to find it, and when you do, you can barely recognize it. Even if you identify it, you can make no use of it at all. Now plant another of the same kind in ground that is naturally just as poor and barren — but keep it well weeded, with everything noxious and harmful removed. It flourishes and thrives. You can see it the moment you enter the garden, and you can use it whenever you like. This is how it is with the graces of the Spirit planted in our hearts. They survive in a heart where mortification is neglected, but they are ready to die (Revelation 3:2) — withering and decaying. The heart is like the sluggard's field, so overgrown with weeds you can barely see the good grain. Such a person may search for faith, love, and zeal and barely find them. Even if he discovers that these graces are still there — alive and genuine — they are so weak and so burdened with lusts that they are of very little use. But let the heart be cleansed through mortification — the weeds of lust constantly and daily uprooted as they spring up daily, for our nature is their natural soil — and room is made for grace to thrive and flourish. Then every grace will perform its part and be ready for every use and purpose.
Third, concerning our peace: just as there is no solid evidence of sincerity without mortification, I know of nothing that provides such strong evidence of sincerity as mortification. That sincerity is no small foundation of our peace. Mortification is the soul's vigorous opposition to itself — and it is in this opposition that sincerity is most clearly seen.