THE SELF-CRITICISM OF FAITH

"For I delight in the law of God after the inward man: but I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members."—Rom. 7: 22, 23.

In times past religious people talked a great deal of "the un­lucky sevens" and "the lucky eights." This was while they still practiced self-criticism in the religious life they as believers were leading. Many times things went to painful extremes on both sides. Many of the most honorable, most conscientious and zealous, who feared and loved God of all their soul, were abjudicated of their rights of childhood because they did not feel satisfied with them­selves. The judges who passed these judgments were "so happy," because they had been "born again" and had become completely sanctified," for which reason they looked upon themselves as "the lucky eights"; in other words, they meant that the experience men­tioned in the 8th chapter of the Epistle to the Romans was theirs.

The basis of this happiness consisted in knowing of "a before" and "a now." The period of their transition was described some­thing like this: "I felt very dissatisfied and unhappy in my sins. The flames of hell nearly licked my feet, and I felt myself gliding into the arms of the devil. But exactly at this or that hour I was saved, and since then I have lived in the Spirit. Oh, how happy I am!"

This talk of the year, the day, the hour, and the minute, when the "new birth" of these happy individuals was supposed to have taken place, was the cause of the deepest suffering on the part of those who had not experienced in a hypnotic way the supposed power of God in a wonderful manner. And many who were "saved" doubted their salvation in spite of their knowledge of a certain date of their emotion of mind. Those who could triumphantly speak of the hour of conversion sang songs of jubilee, while a thousand pangs tore asunder "the unlucky sevens," who retro­spectively sought in vain the date of their spiritual birth. It went without saying that they had not been born again, since they knew not the hour of the occurrence of this important event. These wretched people mourned their unhappy situation in silence, and sought the grace of God still more earnestly, bending their backs deeply and humbly under all the burdens the lucky eights saw fit to place on them. To be considered worthy of serving the great and merciful God through his happy children was something which acted as soothing emollient on the lacerated hearts which longed for the childhood of God. No abasement was too low, no burden too heavy, and no sacrifice too great for these crushed hearts; still they never won any acknowledgment for their well performed services. They were divested of all praise, for there was always some fault, real or imagined, that prevented them from uttering their exultation. They remained enclosed within the mystical seven of the Epistle to the Romans.

The talk of the lucky eights and the unlucky sevens has grad­ually ceased. The cause of this is partly due to the fact that those who practiced self-criticism have gained a foothold in the Word of God, and now compare themselves with the Man; of sorrows, and partly because the authors of such judgments have been exposed through their own grim calendar of crimes as children of the devil instead of children of God.

Many think that Paul wrote the seventh chapter of Romans before he became converted. We, on the other hand, see in this chapter the self-criticism of a true believer, expressing the thorough and noble experience of one who knew the law of the Spirit, which, though unwritten, has been active from the beginning—Paul ad­dressed his letter "to them that know the law." What person knows the law of the kingdom of God? The one who, because of a living faith in Christ, comprehends the purpose of the written law; namely, that we should love God above, all, things and our fellow men as ourselves, and guard against aggression and unrighteousness.

In ten well worded paragraphs of law, God showed his adopted people the way love should walk. Their deeds were to be con­fined within this appropriate boundary, so that the rights of neither God nor man should be curtailed or encroached upon. But since man was of flesh Cnd the law was completely spiritual, the Word was irritating to the untamed flesh. Before man had even grasped what covetousness was, he had been driven by the inspira­tion of the flesh to transgress the spiritual meaning of the law. And even if he had not committed a transgression subject to punishment before the letter of the law, the spiritual meaning of the Word, "thou shalt not covet," had power before God to sentence the flesh to death. Here is where the believer is made conscious of sin, of the law of sin, of the effects of sin, also of grace in Christ, of the law of faith, and of the ability to bring about re­demption through the sacrificial law and the atonement system, which accompany faith from Paradise lost to Paradise restored.

The purpose of the law of God is to ward off transgressions against God and our fellow men, and to keep the road leading to God clear. But because such a law exists, people are made trans­gressors, partly in accordance with and partly against their 'will; because where there is no law, no one will be accused or sentenced, since there is no knowledge of sin. The law judges deeds already committed, but the very root of the deed is to be sought in the misled demands of desire or need, which a man cannot know until he has become acquainted with the law. Therefore Paul says, "For I was alive without the law once: but when the commandment came, sin revived, and I died. And the commandment, which was or­dained to life, I found to be unto death. For sin, taking occasion by the commandment, deceived me, and by it slew me."—Rom. 7:9-11.

As soon as Paul discovered the very root of evil through the guidance of the Spirit, he found that the law condemned it. The discovery was not caused by the law, but by love toward God, because such love makes a person's mind keener. Paul adds, "Wherefore the law is holy, and the commandment holy, and just, and good. Was then that which is good made death unto me? God forbid. But sin, that it might appear sin, working death in me by that which is good; that sin by the commandment might become exceeding sinful."—Rom. 7:12, 13.

This shows that if the so-called "lucky eights" had known sin and the law as they should be known, and had passed their judg­ments from a position on the plane of the elevated sanctuary of faith, many of them would not have become transgressors of the law of God, to say nothing of the civil law of the world. Sin, when it is placed in the light of the faith of Christ, assumes ex­ceedingly large proportions. Sin is what kills. It seems to be un­forgivable, and a repentant person will die willingly with the crucified One in hopes of receiving grace and of obtaining life from the dead through the resurrection. Such a knowledge of sin and of the effect of the law forbids the transgression of the law.

The law of faith and the effect of grace. The law of faith knows of no limits when it comes to performing good deeds. That law does not permit even a thought of evil deeds, inasmuch as the letter of the law has been a schoolmaster which has given, instruction concerning what is right and wrong. The law of faith is demonstrated in the life of Christ, prompting each person who assumes a position on the territory of faith to strive for perfection. The Master said, `Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect."—Mat. 5:48.

The propelling power of grace leaves good deeds, and the person who performs these good deeds claims no honor for them. He has received grace instead of a well earned sentence of death. This is why he loves his Benefactor, and is thankful and glad because of the conditional promises of salvation., which he believes with all his soul. This faith has united him with the tree of Christ—the Logos of God—as a grafted limb. This good power of life pro­duces fruit which is of service to the sick, to those wounded by sin, and to those sentenced by the law. However, a limb of faith brings forth only a small part of the pure power of the tree, of which he himself has been nourished during the time he has labored. So long as he remains in the faith, he can neither receive praise for what he has done nor punishment for imperfection; neither can he commit sin, that is, transgress knowingly.

The law of sin in the members of the body. What is it that is termed the law of sin in our limbs? It is not the governmental law of God, the ten commandments, neither is it the law of faith, because of the former comes the knowledge of what constitutes sin, and of the latter comes the righteousness of God manifested in visible personified. instruments of the faith. The law of sin in a man's limbs is the power which has, through covetousness, united his limbs with the world and the lusts of apostasy. Man has formed habits and thoughts which are very difficult to root out, but which must be suppressed before it is possible for the perfect fruits of faith to appear.

In order to illustrate more fully, let us term the law of sin the law of the farmer, the law of faith the law of the musician, and the ten commandments of the kingdom of God the law of an estate to which the tenant, the farmer, is subject to. It is the duty of the farmer to perform his daily labors, to pay his taxes, and obey the law of the estate as long as he lives. In order to get any returns from the ground—his source of income—he must till it, which work is prescribed by the law under which he per­forms his daily work. His hands become hard and coarse, and he takes powerful, but heavy steps. At the age of fifty or sixty years, his limbs are so stiff because of the heavy and difficult work, that he carries the stamp of the farmer wherever he goes. It can even be seen whether he is a good farmer or a poor farmer.

A musician comes to the place and the farmer, who has always loved music, is inspired by the desire to learn to play the violin. In fact he desires to accompany this musician. The law of the estate says, "You are a farmer on the grounds of this estate and must remain here." In spite of this the farmer endeavors to learn in secret, though lacking the slightest knowledge of the laws of music. But his limbs are so stiff and his fingers so unmanageable that he is unable to play a single tone correctly, wherefore he lays down his beautiful instrument in anguish and asks, "Is it possible for me to learn to play as well as you, professor?"

The professor answers, "Your talents are good, but you must acquaint yourself with the laws of music and let your limbs practice them, just as you have practiced the law of the farmer." "Stop !" says the law of the estate. "You are a farmer for life on this estate."

The farmer suffers deeply and says, "In order to live in my parental home I must assume the duties of my parents as long as I live! Sold under the law, I can be freed from the estate, but I will nevertheless become a transgressor before the law as long as I live, unless I perform my service." The professor sup­plies his ransom fee, but still the farmer is not free. He ap­parently dies. Only then does the power which the estate exer­cises over him crumble. He awakens from his deathlike trance. As soon as he has moved from the estate, he devotes his whole life to music. Thanks to the kindness of the professor he now becomes a devoted scholar. But to his own annoyance he finds that the farmer's law accompanies him, and remains in his limbs, so that he is unable to catch up with the requirements of the law of music. His limbs fail to obey the law of his will, that is, the law of music. The professor never rebukes him, because lie sees how hard the farmer works in his limbs in, order to get them to serve him. The farmer's son, on the other hand, who has not had time to become awkward under the law of farming, finds no trouble in learning the theories and technical points of music, nor in learning its practical part. His progress makes both the professor and the farmer rejoice. But the old farmer's progress is the cause of still more happiness to both, inasmuch as it is brought about against overwhelming powers of opposition. And every time he makes the least little mistake, he has reason to say:

"For that which I do I allow not: for what I would, that do I not; but what I hate, that do I. If then I do that which I would not, I consent unto the law that it is good. Now then it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me. For I know that in. me (that is, in my flesh,) dwelleth no good thing: for to will is present with me; but how to perform that which is good I find not. For the good that I would I do not: but the evil which I would not, that I do. Now if I do that I would not, it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me. I find then a law, that, when I would do good, evil is present with me."—Rom. 7:15-21.

As long as the pupil does not return to his old life and habits, but practices music, he gains confidence and experience. If he return to the estate and sell himself anew under its laws, the professor will be less apt to bother with him—his name will be cancelled from the musician's register. Many who have been under the gospel power of salvation have done this. They have returned to the authority of the law and have become separated for all time from the perfect law of faith because of a life of carnal desires.

The perfecting law of faith .impels the life manifestations of a life in the Spirit, which manifestations never deviate from the conditions revealed by the Word of God through the Son of man. Therefore, the person who dies to the world in order to become perfect in the faith of Jesus Christ can think of no other way to attain to the climax of perfection than the way which the farmer of our illustration must go. He loved, served, and prayed, but to become a professor of music required a surpassing efficiency, obtainable only through a complete deliverance from the farmer's law and through an entire renewal of his whole being.

The person entering the territory of faith may often, in his endeavors to make good things perfect, have the most painful reason to exclaim, "0 wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death ?" But consolation from the Father of grace fills the heart with solace, and hope exclaims under the pressure,""I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord. So then with the mind I myself serve the law of God; but with the flesh the law of sin."—Rom. 7 :24, 25.

There is no condemnation for these courageous heroes who "die daily" with the Son of truth in order to remain in him. And the Spirit, or the law of faith, will finally deliver them from the law and body of sin and death through the resurrection.