[BBC List] i cannot repent

[Mike Abendroth]

I CAN'T REPENT

by Ichabod S. Spencer 
ONE of the most solemn assemblies that I have ever seen, was convened on the
evening of the Sabbath, in a private house. It was an inquiry meeting; at
which more than a hundred persons were present, the most of them young or in
middle life. The structure of the house was rather peculiar. There was a
spacious hail, about ten feet wide and about forty feet long, extending from
the front door along the side of three parlors which opened into it, as well
as into each other; and at the rear part of this hail was a staircase
extending to the second story of the house. Moveable benches were introduced
into this hail, and placed along each side of it, to afford seats for those
who attended this meeting, and who could not all be accommodated in the
parlors. After the meetings had been continued in this place for a few
weeks; it became manifest, that the hail was the preferred place. As the
different persons came in and took their seats 'where they pleased, the
seats in the hail would be filled, and then the stairs would be used as
seats entirely to the top, and then the upper hail would be occupied, and
finally the parlors I was accustomed to stand, while addressing the
assembly, in one of the doors opening from the hail into the parlor, where
my eye had a full view of all those in the hail, on the stairs and in one of
the parlors. Besides a general exhortation, it was my ordinary custom to
speak to each individual, passing from one to another. And all those in the
hail and on the stairs could hear every word, which I uttered in this
conversation, and the most of what any one said to me. And for these
reasons, as I supposed, the persons who resorted there would choose the hall
or the stairs. This listening of others, to what passed in conversation
betwixt any one individual and myself, was never very pleasant to me. I
should greatly have preferred to converse with each one alone; as there
would have been less restraint on their part, and on my own, more certainty,
that what I was saying would be truly applicable and would not be applied by
any one, for whom it was not intended. And besides this, individuals would
sometimes make expressions to me so erroneous, that I was unwilling others
should hear them, lest they might be injured by it. To avoid this, I used to
speak in a low tone of voice; and if the expressions of any individual were
becoming such, as I feared might be injurious; I usually broke off the
conversation suddenly, by saying, I will call and see you to-morrow.
On the evening, to which I now allude; all the seats were filled, and three
persons were seated on each stair entirely to the top, and many had found
their place in the hail above. It was a calm and mild summer evening; and
perfect stillness reigned over the crowd assembled there, unbroken except by
the long breathing or the deep sigh of some pensive soul. I thought I had
never seen so still, so solemn, and thoughtful an assembly. I closed the
front door, after all had entered, and took my stand in my accustomed place.
I hesitated to speak. I was afraid to utter a word. It seemed to me, that
anything I could say would be less solemn, impressive, instructive, than
that tomb-like silence in an assembly of so many immortal souls, each
visited by the Holy Spirit. I stood, for some time, in perfect silence. The
power of that silence was painful. The people sat before me, like statues of
marble, - not a movement, - not a sound. It appeared as if they had all
ceased to breathe. I broke the silence by saying slowly and in a low voice:
- "Each one of you is thinking of his own immortal soul and of his God."
Again I paused for the space of an entire minute; for I was overawed, and
knew not what to say. Then falling on my knees, I commenced prayer. They all
spontaneously knelt. After a short prayer, I proposed to speak a few words
to each one of them, as far as it was possible; and requested all of them,
except the individual with whom I should be conversing, to be engaged in
reflection or in silent prayer to God. Passing rapidly from one to another,
I had spoken to all those in the parlors and in the hall, till I had reached
about the middle of it, where every word spoken could be heard, by the whole
assembly. Coming to a man, about thirty years of age, whom I had seen there
three times before, I said to him: - "I did not expect to see you here
to-night. I thought you would have come to repentance, before this time; and
would have no occasion any longer to ask, what shall I do to be saved?"
"I can't repent," said he, (with a sort of determined and despairing accent,
and so loudly as to startle us all.) Instantly, I felt sorry for this
expression. But I thought it would not do to avoid noticing it, and leave it
sounding in the ears of so many impenitent sinners. I immediately answered,
as I stood before him, as gently and yet solemnly as I could: -"What an
awfully wicked heart you must have! You can't repent! You love sin so well;
that you cannot be sorry for it - you cannot forsake it - you cannot hate
it! - You must be in an awful condition indeed! You are so much the enemy of
God; that you cannot be sorry for having offended him - you cannot cease to
contend against him - and even now, while you are sensible of the
impropriety and unhappiness of it, you cannot cease to resist the Holy
Spirit, who strives with you to bring you to repentance! - You must have an
awfully depraved heart!"
"I can't repent," said he again, (with an accent of grief and intolerable
vexation) - "I can't repent, with such a heart!"
"That means," said I, "that you have become too wicked to desire to become
any better; for nothing but wickedness makes repentance difficult. And then,
you just plead one sin, as an excuse for another - the sin of your heart, as
an excuse for the continued sin of your heart!"
Still he insisted. "I can't repent! I should if I could!" - (and the tears
rolled down his cheeks, of which he seemed to ho utterly unconscious, as
well as unconscious of the presence of any one but myself.)
"You would if you could," said I, "is only a self-righteous and
self-justifying excuse. Your deceitful heart means by it, that you are not
so wicked as to continue in your impenitence willingly. It means that you
are willing to repent, but you cannot. You are deceived. You are not
willing. You think you are, but you are in an error. You never will be
willing, unless God shall verify in you the promise, 'My people shall be
willing in the day of my power.' In that power lies your only hope, as I
have told you before, when I urged you to pray. If you are willing to
repent, what hinders you? I am willing you should repent. All of us here are
willing. Every angel in heaven is willing you should repent. Christ who died
to redeem you is willing. God the Father is willing. The Holy Spirit is
willing, who, at this moment strives with you to bring you to repentance.
What hinders you, then? Yourself only! And when you say you can't repent,
you mean that you are not to be blamed for coming here to-night with an
impenitent heart. You are woefully deceived! God blames you! The whole Bible
blames you! Your own conscience, though you strive to silence it, blames
you! - This excuse will not stand!"
"I can't repent!" said he again, (in a harsh, vociferating voice, as if in
anger.)
"Then God can't save you," said I; "for he cannot lie, and he has said the
impenitent shall be destroyed! You say you cannot repent. He has not said
so. He commands you to repent."
He replied, with much agitation, but in a subdued tone: - "I am sure I have
tried long; and my mind has been greatly tormented. All has done no good. I
do not see as I can repent!"
"Other people have repented," said I. "There are a great many penitents in
the world. I find there are some here to-night, who think they have come to
repentance, since they were here last Sabbath evening. One of them told me
then, very much the same thing you tell me now, that it did not seem to him
he ever could turn from sin; but he has found out he can. As to your having
tried so long, the length of time will not save you if a man has got his
face turned the wrong way, the longer he goes on, the worse off he becomes.
He would do well to stop, and turn about. Such is the call of the Bible:
'Turn ye, turn ye, for why will ye die? Repent, and turn yourselves from all
your transgressions, so iniquity shall not be your ruin. Let the wicked
forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts, and let him return
unto the Lord.' Other people have turned to God, and you ought to. But your
mind has seized on the idea of your trying and your trouble, and you make an
excuse and a self-righteousness of them."
"Do you think I am self-righteous?" said he.
"I know you are. That is your grand difficulty. You have been trying to save
yourself. You are trying now. When you tried to repent, your heart aimed
after repentance, as something to recommend you to God, and constitute a
reason why he should forgive and save you. It was just an operation of a
self-righteous spirit. It was just an attempt to save yourself, to have your
religion save you, instead of relying by faith upon Jesus Christ, to be
saved from wrath through him. This is precisely the case with every
impenitent sinner. The error is one. The forms of it may be various; but in
all cases it is substantially the same thing. St. Paul has given a perfect
description of it: 'going about,' (from one thing to another, from one
device or attempt to another,) 'going about to establish a righteousness of
their own, they have not submitted themselves to the righteousness of God;
for Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that
believeth.' One man tries to establish a righteousness of his own, out of
his reformations; another one, out of his duties; another, out of his
painful attempts or painful convictions; as you just now mentioned your own
torments of mind. It is evident, that you are trying to be righteous before
God, through your pain - and your attempted penitence. And if you should
find any peace of mind in that way; it would only be a deception, not an
item of religion in it. You ought to betake yourself to the Lord Jesus
Christ, a poor, guilty, undone sinner, to be saved by him alone - saved by
grace. You ought to go to him, just as you are, to be washed in his blood,
to be clothed in his righteousness, to be sheltered from the thunders of
God's eternal law, in the security of his all-sufficient atonement. You
ought to flee to Christ, like the man-slayer to the city of refuge, before
he is cut down by the sword of the avenger of blood. You ought to go
instantly, like the prodigal to his father, in all his poverty, starvation,
and rags, as well as guilt. You ought to cry, like Peter sinking in the
waves, "Lord, save me." But instead of this, you are just looking to
yourself, striving to find something, or make something in your own heart,
which shall recommend you to God. And in this miserable way, you are making
salvation a far more difficult matter, than God has made it. You have
forgotten the free grace of the gospel, the full atonement of Jesus Christ,
by the sacrifice of himself."
"But," said he, "I can't repent and come to Christ, of myself."
"I certainly never said you could; and never wished you to think you could.
In my opinion, God does not wish you to think so. And if you have found out,
that you cannot repent of yourself, aside from divine aid, I am glad of it -
you have found out an important truth. Most certainly God does not tell you
to repent of yourself. He tells you, that 'Christ is exalted to give
repentance.' He says to every sinner, 'Thou hast destroyed thyself, in me is
thy help: let him take hold on my strength that he may make peace with me,
and he shall make peace with me.' On the ground that they need it, he has
promised 'the Holy Spirit to them that ask him.' God never expects you to
repent, without divine aid, but with it. He knows you are too wicked to do
it, that you are without strength, helpless, undone, a lost sinner! - And
here lies the very heart of your error. You have been trying to repent, in a
way that God never told you, just by your own powers, instead of trying to
get God to have mercy upon you, and save you by his help. You have been
looking to the powers within you, instead of looking to the aid above you.
You have trusted to yourself, instead of trusting yourself to the grace of
Christ. And that is the very reason why you have failed; and now you
complain, that you cannot repent; while, in reality, you have exactly the
same sufficiency, as the penitent all around you. What has been their help,
may be your help. And the sooner you are driven off from all that
self-seeking and self-reliance, the better it will be for you. You are in
the double error of undervaluing the character of God, and over-valuing your
own. God is more merciful and more gracious, than you think him to be. He is
more ready to save you. And when he commands you to repent, he does not wish
you to forget, that all your hope lies in the immediate aid of his Holy
Spirit. Nor does he wish you to attempt to dispense with that proffered
assistance, by your not believing, that you are as utterly helpless as you
really are. He does not tell you to rely upon your own shattered strength;
but you have done so. And when you have failed, you then turn round and
complain, that you 'can't repent.' You reject his offered help - the help of
the omnipotent Spirit. And for this reason, you will be the more criminal,
if you do not repent. That Divine Spirit is your only hope. If he leaves you
to yourself, you are lost - eternally lost! Tread softly, my dear friend!
The ground whereon thou standest is holy ground! Let not the Holy Spirit,
who presides over the souls here this evening, bear witness against you in
the day of the final judgment, - 'because I have called and ye refused!' You
can repent; just in the way that others repent; just because God is your
help. Trust him; and rely upon yourself no longer."
As I was saying these things, he appeared to become much less affected, but
much more thoughtful. His tears and his agitations ceased; and he seemed to
hang upon my lips, as if he was listening to some new wonder. When I had
done, all was hushed as death; and in a deliberate, subdued, and solemn
tone, he broke that expressive silence, saying: - "I hope, my God will help
me."
"Let us pray," said I; - and a short prayer, pleading for God's help, closed
the exercises of the evening.
I afterwards found numerous reasons for believing, that that was one of the
most profitable religious exercises, that I ever attended. Among others was
the case of my friend, whose expression had drawn me somewhat out of my
proposed mode of conducting the exercises of the evening. He became, as he
hoped, a true believer. He stated to me the exercises of his mind, his
repentance, his faith in Christ, his peace and hope, and his reliance upon
the Holy Spirit. His mind appeared to seize upon the great truths of the
gospel, almost without emotion. He had no ecstacy, no exultation, no joy. He
had only peace and hope. lie told me, that his agitations had all been
useless to him; that they were not faith and did not lead to faith; and that
he thought "sinners ought to attend to the calls of God, in a believing and
business manner." And when I asked him what had kept him from Christ so
long, he replied: "I was trying to make myself better - to have a religion
instead of trusting in Christ. What you said to me that night, showed me my
mistake; and I went home with a deeper sense of my dependence, and a clear
view of the free grace of God to sinners, through the redemption of Christ."
About six months after this he united with the church, and has continued to
manifest an established and uniform faith.
To cut off the sinner from all reliance upon himself, his merits and his
powers; and throw him, naked and helpless, into the hands of the Holy Spirit
to lead him to Christ in faith; should be the one great aim of the ministry.
Sinners certainly ought to repent, for God commands them to repent. But in
my opinion, he does not design to have them understand his command, as
having respect only to their own ability to repent, and not having respect
to the proffered aids of the Holy Spirit. Such aids constitute one grand
ground on which his command is obligatory, and sweep away every possible
excuse. No man ever did repent without the Holy Spirit, or ever will; and
this is no small amount of proof that no man ever can. Nothing seems to be
gained by making a sinner believe that he is able to repent without divine
assistance. Such a belief will be very likely to mislead him to a reliance
upon his own shattered strength And as to his conviction of criminality for
not coming to repentance, surely there is strong ground for such conviction,
since God offers him all the ability he needs, - in me is thy help, - let
him take hold on my strength that he may make peace with me.
This article is taken from Spencer's two-volume book, A Pastor's Sketches
<http://www.monergismbooks.com/pastorsketches01.html> 


Charis,
 
Mike Abendroth
 
"Make us choose the harder right instead of the easier wrong, and never to
be contented with half truth when whole truth can be won.  Endow us with
courage that is born of loyalty to all that is noble and worthy, that scorns
to compromise with vice and injustice and knows no fear when right and truth
are in jeopardy."
 - West Point Military Academy Cadet Prayer
 
www.bbcchurch.org
 

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