against light and knowledge, against love and grace,
against each person of the Godhead. I ought to
look at my sins in the light of the holy law, in
the light of God’s countenance, in the light
of the cross, in the light of the judgment-seat,
in the light of hell, in the light of eternity.
I ought to examine my dreams—my floating
thoughts—my predilections—my
often recurring actions—my habits of thought,
feeling, speech, and action—the slanders
of my enemies and the reproofs, and even banterings,
of my friends—to find out traces of
my prevailing sin, matter for confession. I ought
to have a stated day of confession, with fasting—say,
once a month. I ought to have a number of
scriptures marked, to bring sin to remembrance.
I ought to make use of all bodily affliction, domestic
trial, frowns of providence on myself, house, parish,
church, or country, as calls from God to confess
sin. The sins and afflictions of other men
should call me to the same. I ought, on Sabbath
evenings, and on Communion Sabbath evenings, to
be especially careful to confess the sins of holy things.
I ought to confess the sins of my confessions,—their
imperfections, sinful aims, self-righteous tendency,
etc.,—and to look to Christ as
having confessed my sins perfectly over his own sacrifice.
“I ought to go to Christ for the forgiveness of each sin. In washing my body, I go over every spot, and wash it out. Should I be less careful in washing my soul? I ought to see the stripe that was made on the back of Jesus by each of my sins. I ought to see the infinite pang thrill through the soul of Jesus equal to an eternity of my hell for my sins, and for all of them. I ought to see that in Christ’s bloodshedding there is an infinite over-payment for all my sins. Although Christ did not suffer more than infinite justice demanded, yet He could not suffer at all without laying down an infinite ransom.
“I feel, when I have sinned, an immediate reluctance to go to Christ. I am ashamed to go. I feel as if it would do no good to go,—as if it were making Christ a minister of sin, to go straight from the swine-trough to the best robe,—and a thousand other excuses; but I am persuaded they are all lies, direct from hell. John argues the opposite way: ’If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father;’ Jer. 3:1 and a thousand other scriptures are against it. I am sure there is neither peace nor safety from deeper sin, but in going directly to the Lord Jesus Christ. This is God’s way of peace and holiness. It is folly to the world and the beclouded heart, but it is the way.
“I must never think a sin too small to need immediate application to the blood of Christ. If I put away a good conscience, concerning faith I make shipwreck. I must never think my sins too great, too aggravated, too presumptuous,—as when done on my knees, or in preaching, or by a dying bed, or during dangerous illness,—to