Chapter 4: Assimilation to God and the Satisfaction That Results

The second ingredient into this blessedness considered, assimilation to God or his glory impressed. Wherein it consists, discovered in sundry propositions. The third ingredient, the satisfaction and pleasure which results, stated and opened.

And now, upon this vision of the blessed face of God, next follows, in the order of discourse, the soul's perfect assimilation to that revealed glory, or its participation thereof, (touching the order the things themselves have to one another, there will be consideration had in its proper place) and this also must be considered as a distinct and necessary ingredient into the state of blessedness we are treating of.

Distinct it is, for though the vision now spoken of, does include a certain kind of assimilation in it, as all vision does, being only a reception of the species or likeness of the object seen: this assimilation we are to speak of, is of a very different kind. That is such as affects only the visive or cognitive power, and that not with a real change, but intentional only, nor for longer continuance than the act of seeing lasts; but this is total, real, and permanent.

And surely it is of equal necessity to the soul's blessedness, to partake the glory of God, as to behold it; as well to have the divine-likeness impressed upon it as represented to it. After so contagious and over-spreading a depravation as sin has diffused through all its powers: it can never be happy without a change of its very crasis and temper throughout. A diseased ulcerous body would take little felicity in gay and glorious sights: no more would all the glory of heaven signify to a sick, deformed, self-loathing soul.

It must therefore be all glorious within, have the divine nature more perfectly communicated, the likeness of God transfused and wrought into it. This is the blessed work begun in regeneration; but how far it is from being perfected, we may soon find by considering how far short we are of being satisfied in our present state, even in the contemplation of the highest and most excellent objects. How tasteless to our souls are the thoughts of God! How little pleasure do we take in viewing over his glorious attributes — the most acknowledged and adorable excellencies of his being! And to what can we impute it but to this, that our spirits are not yet sufficiently connaturalized to them? Their likeness is not enough deeply instamped on our souls: nor will this be, till we awake; when we see better, we shall become better: when he appears we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.

But do we indeed pretend to such an expectation? Can we think what God is, and what we are in our present state, and not confess these words to carry with them an amazing sound, we shall be like him! How great a hope is this! How strange an errand has the Gospel into the world! How admired a design — to transform men and make them like God! Were the dust of the earth turned into stars in the firmament, were the most stupendous poetical transformations assured realities, what could equal the greatness and the wonder of this mighty change? Indeed, does not the expectation of it seem as presumptuous, as the issue itself would be strange? Is it not an overbold desire? Too daring a thought? A thing unlawful to be affected, as it seems impossible to be attained?

It must be acknowledged there is an appearance of high arrogance in aspiring to this, to be like God. And the very wish or thought of being so, in all respects, were not to be entertained without horror: it is a matter therefore that requires some disquisition and explication wherein that impressed likeness of God consists, which must concur to the saints' blessedness. In order to this, then, take the following propositions.

1. There is a sense wherein to be like God is altogether impossible, and the very desire of it the most horrid wickedness. The prophet in the name of God charges the proud Prince of Tyre with this, as an inexpiable arrogance, that he did set his heart as the heart of God, and upon this score challenges and enters the lists with him: Come you, that would gladly be taken for a God, I'll make a sorry God of you before I have done, because you have set your heart as the heart of God, I'll set those upon you, that shall draw their swords against the beauty of your wisdom, and that shall defile your brightness; and what? Will you yet say in the hand of him that slays you I am a God? You shall be a man and no God in the hand of him that slays you — I have spoken it, says the Lord God. He will endure no such imitation of him, as to be rivaled in the point of his Godhead. This is the matter of his jealousy. They have moved me to jealousy with not-God (so it is shortly and more pointedly spoken in the original text) and see how he displays his threats and terrors hereupon in the following verses. This was the design and inducement of the first transgression — to be as gods. And indeed all sin may be reduced here, what else is sin (in the most comprehensive notion) but an undue imitation of God? An exalting of the creature's will into a supremacy; and opposing it as such to the divine. To sin, is to take upon us, as if we were supreme, and that there were no Lord over us. It is to assume to ourselves a deity, as if we were under no law or rule, as he is not under any, but what he is to himself; herein, to be like God, is the very core and malignity of sin.

2. There is a just and laudable imitation of God, a likeness to him, that is matter of command, praise, and promise, as wherein both the duty, excellency and blessedness of the reasonable creature does consist; and which is in some respect inseparable from the nature of man. We are required to be followers of God, as dear children (imitators the word is) David is commended as a man after God's own heart (though but now we saw, in another, with what disdain and indignation it was resented, that he did set his heart, as the heart of God). The new creature, the new man, the first fruits, (as he is called) the flower of the creation is made after God. Saints expect upon the assurance of his word, to be more fully like him, as we see in the text, and parallel places. Indeed man was made at first with a concreate similitude to God, which we know was the counsel of heaven, and the result and issue of that counsel (Genesis 1:26-27). This is evident enough in itself, and needs no more words. But to make a further step in this business, observe next.

3. There can be no allowable imitation of anyone, but with an exception, as to some peculiarities, that may belong to his special station, relations, and other circumstances of the condition in which he is, or with limitation to such things as are of common concernment to both. 'Tis commonly observed how naturally a people form their manners and fashions to the example of the prince; and there is no well disposed ruler, but would take it well to be imitated in things that are of common concernment to him and his subjects, that is, that concern him, not as he is a king; but as he is a man, or a Christian. To behold the transforming power of his own example; where it is such as begets a fair and unreproachful impression — how his virtues circulate (his justice, temperance, love of religion) and produce their likeness among his people — it will be a glory, and cannot but be received with some delight. We cast an honor upon them whom we imitate: for we acknowledge an excellency in them (which is all that honoring imports in the first notion of it) and that naturally is received with pleasure. But now should subjects aspire to a likeness to their prince, in the proper appendages, and acts of sovereignty; and because he is a glorious king, they will be such too: and assume the peculiar cognizances of regality; ascend the throne, sway the scepter, wear the crown, enact laws, etc. There cannot be more of dutifulness and observance, in the former imitation; than there is of disloyalty, and treason in this. A father is pleased to have his son imitate him, within such limits before mentioned; but, if he will govern the family, and fill up his room in all relations, this will never be endured.

4. There are some things to be found in the blessed God, not so incommunicable, and appropriate; but that his creatures may be said to have some participation thereof with him: and so far to be truly like him. This participation cannot be univocal; as the nature of a living creature in general, is equally in men and brutes. So it is a self evident principle, that nothing can be common to God and an inferior being. Nor is it only equivocal; a participation but of the same name, when the natures signified thereby are, altogether diverse; but analogical, in as much as the things spoken under the same names of God and the creature, have a real likeness, and agreement in nature with one another; and they are in God, primarily; in the creature, by dependance, and derivation: in him, essentially, as being his very essence: in them, but as accidents, (many of them) adventitious to their beings: and so while they cannot be said to be the same things in them, as, in him, are fitly said to be his likeness.

5. This likeness, as it is principally found in man among all the terrestrial creatures; so has it man for its seat and subject, his soul or spiritual part. The effects of divine wisdom, power, goodness, are every where visible, throughout the whole creation; and as there is no effect, but has something in it, corresponding to its cause (wherein it was its cause) so, every creature does, some way or other, represent God. Some in virtues, some in life, some in being only, the material world represents him as a house, the builder. But spiritual beings, as a child, the father. Other creatures (as one fitly expresses it) carry his footsteps; these, his image: and that, not as drawn with a pencil, which can only express figure and color: but, as represented in a glass, which intimates action and motion. To give the preeminence therefore in this point to the body of man, was a notion so gross, that one would wonder how it should obtain; at least in the Christian world.

Yet we find it expressly charged by Saint Augustine upon the Anthropomorphites of old (or Melitonians, as he calls them, from one Melito the father of them) not only, that they imagined God in a human shape (which was their known notion) but that they stated God's image in man, in his body, not his soul. Nor are Van Helmont's fancies, about corporal likeness capable of excuse by anything, but that they were a dream (as they are fitly styled) and not likely to impose upon the waking reason of any man.

6. This image or likeness of God in the spirit of man, representing what is communicable in him, is either natural or moral. There is first, a natural image of God, in the soul of man, which is inseparable from it; and which it can never divest itself of. Its very spiritual immortal nature, itself, is a representation of his. Its intellective and elective powers are the image of what we are constrained to conceive under the notion of the same powers in him. Indeed, the same understanding, with the memory, and will, in one soul are thought a lively resemblance of the Triune Deity. But there is further a similitude of him in respect of moral virtues or perfections answering to what we conceive in him, under that notion. His wisdom, (so far as it has the nature of a moral virtue) his mercy, truth, righteousness, holiness, etc. These two kinds or parts (as they may be called) of the divine impression upon the spirits of men, are distinguished by some (I see not how properly) by the distinct names of image, denoting the former: and similitude, the latter: answering, as is thought, to two Hebrew words of the like import: but the things themselves are evidently enough distinct, namely, what perfects the nature of man; in genere physico, as he is such a particular being in the universe: and what perfects him, in genere morali, as he is considerable in reference to a law or rule guiding him to blessedness: as his end.

7. 'Tis a likeness to God in respect of those moral excellencies or perfections, that is especially, considerable by us, in reference to our present purpose; as more immediately relating to the soul's blessedness in God. By the former it has a potentiality, by the latter an habitude in reference thereto. Or (to use terms, more liable to common apprehension) by the former it has a remoter capacity, by the latter a present fitness; or, as the Apostle expresses it, is made meet to be partaker of the inheritance of the saints in light (that is, considering this likeness, as begun in the soul.)

8. Besides what is thus (in the sense before expressed) communicable between God and man, there are some things so peculiarly appropriate to God, as that, in respect of them, there can be no formal likeness in the creature: and it would be impious boldness to aspire to that. Many things of this kind might be mentioned; I shall only instance in two, wherein there is a manifest competition of the apostate world with him; and which are therefore more relative to practice. His sovereign authority, and his independence. In these while men affect to imitate they wickedly affront him. And here is the great controversy between the glorious God, and the degenerate children of men. Every man would catch at a Godhead, and either assume it to himself, or cast it, many times upon other creatures, viler and more ignoble than himself. Snatch the reins of government out of God's hand; and exalt their own wills into an absoluteness as liable to control from none; place and settle their dependence on their own wit, power, fortitude, industry; or, if that be a more hopeless course (for they often find an entire Godhead too much for one creature, and are therefore constrained to parcel it out among many) place their confidences, and expectations in something else without them: do, often, that ridiculous thing, so worthy to be hooted at, make the congested dirt of the earth their trust (the righteous shall laugh at him, and say, Lo! this is the man that trusted in riches) (Psalm 52:6-7) their wealth, their strong tower; which only the name of the Lord is to his righteous ones. Yet, all the while, self is the center, and end in which all must meet, and terminate. This at last carries away the assumed fictitious deity. And this thing, that is thus now made like God, is an idol (which indeed signifies so much) and this imitation of him wicked idolatry, than which nothing more debases a reasonable soul, or divests man of himself, that till they redress this they give no proof of their being men (Isaiah 46:8).

This assimilation of ourselves to God is very remote then from being a perfection; it is a most reproachful deformity, as we know imitations, if they be visibly affected, and strained too far, are always thought ridiculous by wise men.

9. Though, in respect of these incommunicable things, there cannot be a proper, formal, immediate similitude to God: yet, there ought to be a correspondency which must be measured, and estimated by the consideration of his state, and ours; from which it will appear, that what so properly appertains to him, and what ought to correspond to that in us, do agree to each; upon one and the same intervening reason.

For instance, is he absolutely supreme, in as much as he is the first Being? The correspondent impression with us, and upon the same reason, must be a most profound, humble self-subjection, disposing our souls to constant obedience to him. Again, is he simply independent, as being self-sufficient and all in all? The impression with us must be a nothingness; and self-emptiness, engaging us to quit ourselves, and live in him.

This is the only conformity to God, which, with respect to his incommunicable excellencies, our creature state can admit; it may be also styled a likeness to him, being a real conformity to his will concerning us: and his very nature as it respects us. We may conceive of it, as of the likeness between a seal, and the stamp made by it; especially, supposing the inequality of parts in the seal, to be by the protuberancy of what must form the signature. In that case there would be a likeness, aliquatenus, that is, an exact correspondency, but what would then be convex or bulging out in the seal, would be, as we know, concave, or hollow in the impression. Such is the proportion between sovereignty and subjection, between self-fullness and self-emptiness. Whereas a similitude to God, in respect of his communicable perfections, is as that between the face and its picture; where no such difference is want to appear.

10. Assimilation, or conformity to God in both these respects composes that excellent frame of moral perfection, which the divine glory, beheld, impresses upon the soul; and which immediately conduces to its satisfaction and blessedness. I say, moral perfection, because that only is capable of being impressed by the intervening ministry of our own understanding: namely, by its vision, intimated, as was formerly observed, in that of the Apostle, We shall be like — for we shall see him, etc. Its natural perfections are antecedent, and presupposed, therefore not so fitly to be understood here. And I say, both these ways, for, as we cannot form an entire idea of God, without taking in, together, his perfections of both sorts, communicable, and incommunicable, (the former of which must serve instead of a genus; the latter of a differentia, in composing the notion of God) so nor will his impress on us be entire, without something in it respecting both; in the senses already given.

What it will contribute to future blessedness, we shall shortly see, in its place, when we have made a brief inquiry (which is the next thing, according to our order proposed) concerning.

Thirdly, The satisfaction that shall hence accrue. Where it will not be besides our purpose, to take some notice of the significancy of the word. And not to insist on its affinity to the word used for swearing, or rather, being sworn (which; an oath, being the end of controversies, and beyond which we go no further nor expect more, in way of testifying; would, the more fitly here represent to us the soul in its non-ultra; having attained the end of all its motions, and contentions) its equal nearness to the word signifying the number of seven, is not altogether unworthy observation. That number is, we know, often used in Scripture as denoting plenitude and perfection; and God has, as it were, signalized it, by his rest on the seventh day and if this were not designedly pointed at here in the present use of this word (as it must be acknowledged to be frequently used where we have no reason to think it is with such an intention) it may yet occasion us to look upon the holy soul now entered into the eternal Sabbath the rest of God: which, (excluding all respect to that circumstance) is yet the very substance and true notion of the thing itself (to the consideration of which I now pass) under the word held forth to us.

For this satisfaction is the soul's rest in God. Its perfect enjoyment of the most perfect good. The expletion of the whole capacity of its will; the total filling up of that vast enlarged appetite; the perfecting of all its desires in delight and joy. Now delight or joy (for they differ not, save that the latter word is thought something more appropriate to reasonable nature) is more fitly defined the rest of the desiring faculty in the thing desired. Desire, and delight are but two acts of love, diversified, only, by the distance, or presence of the same object; which, when it is distant, the soul, acted and prompted by love, desires, moves towards it, pursues it; when present, and attained, delights in it, enjoys it, stays upon it, satisfies itself in it (according to the measure of goodness it finds there) Desire, is therefore, love in motion; delight, is love in rest: and of this latter delight or joy, Scripture evidently gives us this notion, He will rejoice over you with joy, (to which is presently added as exegetical) he will rest in his love: Which, resting can be but the same thing with being satisfied.

This satisfaction then is nothing else but the repose and rest of the soul amidst infinite delights. Its peaceful acquiescence, having attained the ultimate term of all its motions, beyond which it cares to go no further; the solace it finds in an adequate full good; which it accounts enough for it, and beyond which, it desires no more; reckons its state as good as it can be, and is void of all hovering thoughts (which perfect rest must needs exclude) or inclination to change.

And so does this being satisfied, not only generally, signify the soul to be at rest; but it specifies that rest; and gives us a distinct account of the nature of it. As that it is not a forced violent rest; such as proceeds from a beguiled ignorance, a drowsy sloth, a languishing weakness, or a desire and hope of happiness, by often frustrations baffled into despair (to all which, the native import and propriety of that word [satisfaction] does strongly repugn.)

But it discovers it to be a natural rest. I mean, from an internal principle; the soul is not held in its present state of enjoyment by a strong and violent hand; but rests in it by a connaturalness thereunto, is attempered to it, by its own inward constitution and frame. It rests not as a descending stone, intercepted by something by the way, that holds and stops it, else it would fall further; but as a thing would rest in its own centre, with such a rest as the earth is supposed to have in its proper place; that, being hung upon nothing, is yet unmoved (ponderibus librata suis) equally balanced by its own weights every way.

It is a rational judicious rest, upon certain knowledge that its present state is simply best, and not capable of being changed for a better: The soul cannot be held under a perpetual cheat, so as always to be satisfied with a shadow. It may be so befooled for a while, but if it remain satisfied, in a state that never admits of change; that state must be such as commends itself to the most thoroughly informed reason and judgement.

It is hence a free voluntary chosen rest: Such as God professes his own to be in Zion. This is my rest, here will I dwell, for I have desired it (Psalm 132:14).

It is a complacential rest, wherein the soul abides steady bound only by the cords of love; a rest in the midst of pleasantnesses; The Lord is my portion, the lots are fallen to me [in amanitatibus] it cannot be more fitly expressed than [amidst pleasantnesses] And this speaks, not only what the Psalmist's condition was, but the sense, and account he had of it. That temper of mind gives us some idea of that contentful, satisfied abode with God, which the blessed shall have. He intimates how undesirous he was of any change. Their sorrows (he told us above) should be multiplied that hasten after another God. Hereafter there will be infinitely less appearance of reason for any such thought. Now it is the sense of an holy soul, Whom have I in heaven but you, and there is none I desire on earth besides you (that is to say, heaven and earth yield not a tempting object, to divert me from you) it is now, so at sometimes, when faith and love are in their triumph and exaltation (but the Lord knows how seldom!) but much more when we see him as he is, and are satisfied with his likeness.

It is an active vigorous rest. Action about the end shall be perpetuated, here, though action towards it ceases. It is the rest of an awakened, not of a drowsy, sluggish soul; of a soul satisfied, by heavenly sensations and fruitions: not incapable of them; or that has its powers bound up by a stupefying sleep.

It is the rest of hope perfected in fruition, not lost in despair; of satisfied, not defeated expectation. Despair may occasion rest to a man's body, but not to his mind; or a cessation from further endeavours, when they are constantly found vain, but not from trouble and disquiet. It may suspend from action, but never satisfy.

This satisfaction therefore speaks both the reality and nature of the soul's rest in glory: that it rests; and with what kind of rest.