So spiritually, in all places whither the living soul may come, in whatever state or stage of experience it may be, life is given unto it for a prey. Is the child of God sinking in doubts and fears, and well-nigh overwhelmed with despondency, fearing lest "of faith he make shipwreck," and go down into the billows of endless woe? His life is given him for a prey. Despair is now seeking to prey upon it; but "it shall not be given as a prey to its teeth" (Ps. cxxiv. 6). Or has the Lord lifted up upon him the light of his countenance? Even then his life is still given him for a prey. Presumption may attack the soul that has been thus favoured, or pride make its insidious assault; thus, in either state, an enemy is at hand. If in doubt and fear, despair may open its mouth; if blessed with confidence, presumption or pride may "war against his soul." Thus, in whatever state or stage a spiritual man may be, whether a new-born babe, a child, a youth, a man in Christ, or a father or mother in Israel, his life is still given him for a prey; and, in every stage, he has just so much grace given as is needful for him, and only just so much. Thus, the deeper a man's religion is, the more powerful are the enemies that attack him. The babe has little grace and few enemies; the man in Christ and strong in the Lord has enemies proportionate to his strength; the greater the grace, the more the trials; the stronger the faith, the heavier the burdens; therefore, be his state or stage what it may, "in all places whither he shall come," be it the barren sand or the green pastures, the land of great drought, or fountains of living waters—moments of sweet communion, or of guilt and self-condemnation—sorrow after an absent Lord, or enjoyment of a present Jesus; in whatever state or stage of Christian experience he may be, it is still true, "life is given him for a prey."
This then, my friends, is a short epitome of vital godliness. In my right mind, in standing up in this pulpit, or in any other where the Lord's providence may call me, I have, in my right mind, but one object; not to make proselytes to my creed—not to draw together a congregation—not to work upon your natural feelings; but to contend for the power of vital godliness, so far as I am acquainted with it. So far as I am under divine teaching, my desire and aim is not to deceive souls by flattery—not to please any party—not to minister to any man's pride or any man's presumption; but simply and sincerely, with an eye to God's glory, with His fear working in my heart, to speak to the edification of His people, to do the work of an evangelist, and "to commend myself to every man's conscience in the sight of God." And depend upon it, that a minister that stands up with any other motives in aiming at any other ends than the glory of God in the edification of His people, bears no scriptural marks that he has been sent into the vineyard by God Himself; nor will the Lord own his labours, or bless his testimony.
So far, then, as I have been taught the mysteries of vital godliness, this is the truth that I believe and preach, that spiritual life is the sovereign and free gift of God to his elect—a covenant blessing, given freely in the appointed season; and that this life is maintained by the invincible energy of God the Holy Ghost, as an irrevocable gift, and to shine throughout an endless day. And yet though so freely, so irrevocably given, and so inviolably preserved, yet "given for a prey"—with difficulty preserved, so to speak, in the midst of enemies. It thus agrees with those words, "If the righteous scarcely be saved;" not "scarcely" as implying any deficiency in the power of God to save, nor any risk of fatal or final miscarriage, but "scarcely" on account of the temptations, snares, hindrances, and obstacles with which he is beset.
If the Lord, then, has been our teacher, He has taught us something of these lessons; we have learned the sovereignty of the gift by seeing so many passed by, and us, the most undeserving, visited therewith; its freeness, by knowing our thorough ruin and helplessness; its preservation, by its being kept alive unto this day; and the manner of its preservation, by feeling the fangs of so many cruel enemies, and, though cast down, not destroyed. And thus we may set to our seal, that though a rough and rugged—a strange and mysterious way, that yet it is a right way, and one that leads to "the city which hath foundations," where there are "pleasures at God's right hand for evermore."
J.C. Philpot