Romains 7:18

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.

Grace in believers weakened by the flesh

I. There is no good thing by nature found in any unrenewed heart. And where there is no good there must be much evil.

II. The people of God, whose eyes are enlightened by Divine grace, are fully convinced that in their flesh dwelleth no good thing. I know it, says our apostle. It is a part of the new nature to know it; for grace is a Divine light in the soul, discovering the true nature of things.

III. The children of God not only know this want of any good in themselves, but they acknowledge it whenever they think that God may thereby be glorified. This, I doubt not, was the principal design of our apostle here.

IV. Notwithstanding all this, yet the people of God have always something within them which may be properly called a will to do good. “To will is present with me.”

V. All the people of God find that their performance of good is never equal to their desires. “How to perform that which is good I find not.” (J. Stafford.)

Nature and grace in the same individual

I. We have all felt the exceeding difference between the tone and temper of the mind at one time from what it is at another.

1. Many of you can recollect that under a powerful sermon, in church, you caught something like the elevation of heaven; and that when you passed into another atmosphere, the whole of this temperament went into utter dissipation. And again, how differently it fares with us in devotional retirement, and in the world!

2. And many who are not, in the spiritual sense of the term, Christians, will not be surprised when they are told of two principles in our moral constitution--which, by the ascendancy of the one or the other, may cause the same man to appear in two characters that are in diametric opposition--and of two sets of tendencies, one of which, if followed out, would liken them to the seraphs, and the other to the veriest grub worm.

3. We appeal to a very common experience among novel readers--how they kindle into heroism, and melt into tenderness, and appear while under the spell to be assimilated to that which they admire. And yet all flees when again ushered into the scenes of familiar existence. There is one principle of our constitution that tends to sublime the heart up to the poetry of human life; and there is another that weighs the heart helplessly down to the prose of it.

4. A conspicuous instance of the same thing is the susceptibility of the heart to music. You have seen how the song that breathed the ardour of disinterested friendship blended into one tide of emotion the approving sympathies of a whole circle. It is hard to imagine that on the morrow the competitions and jealousies of rival interest will be as busily active as before, and will obliterate every trace of the present enthusiasm. And yet there is in it no hypocrisy whatever. The finest recorded example of this fascination is that of the harp of David on the dark and turbulent spirit of Saul. During the performance all the furies by which his bosom was agitated seem to have been lulled into peacefulness.

II. Let us unfold the uses of this incident in the argument before us.

1.

(1) Saul was refreshed and became well under the operation of this music. In which case it was his duty to call in the harp on the very first approaches of the threatening visitation; for by it alone, it seems, could his tranquillity be upheld.

(2) Further conceive of Saul on the strength of the foreign application, ever at hand and never neglected, conquering the rebellious tendencies of his inner man.

(3) Consider how Saul should have felt as well as acted, under the consciousness of what he natively was. Should he not have been humbled when he bethought him that, to sustain his moral being, he had to live on supplies from abroad, because in himself there was the foul spirit of a maniac and a murderer; and it would have become this monarch, even when feeling at his best, to loathe his savage propensities in dust and in ashes.

(4) That sense of depravity which prompted the self-abasement of his spirit would prompt an unceasing recurrence to that by which its outbreakings were repressed; and so the more intense his detestation of his own character, would be the vigour and efficacy of that alone practical expedient by which his character was transformed.

2. And thus, in all its parts, does it hold of a Christian.

(1) He feels that in himself he is like Saul without the harp. The streams of his disobedience may not be of the same tinge, but they emanate like his from the heart. The Christian feels that in that part of his constitution which is properly his own, there is a deeply seated corruption, the sense of which never fails to abash and to humble him.

(2) What, then, is it which serves to mark him as a Christian? Not most assuredly that he is free of a carnal nature, but that he has access to an influence without, by which all its rebellious tendencies are thereby overborne. The Christian hath learned whither to flee in every hour of temptation; and thus it is that a purifying influence descends upon his soul.

(3) There was a personal agent called in by Saul--the son of Jesse. In the former case, the power to soothe lay materially and directly in the music--though, to bring it into contact with the organ of hearing, there needed one to perform it. In the latter case, the power to sanctify lies materially and directly in the doctrine--though, to bring it into contact with the organ of mental perception, there needed to present it the Holy Spirit, whose office it is to bring all things to our remembrance. And so, when like to be overborne by the tyranny of your own evil inclinations, is it your part, depending on the Holy Ghost, to go forth and meet His manifestations, as He takes of the things of Christ and shows them unto your soul; and the heart will be kept in the love of God; and this will attune it out of all discord and disorder. In conclusion, learn from these observations how it is that by means of a power external to the mind of man, he may be so transformed as to become a new creature. If eloquence, or romance, or poetry, or music attune the heart to nobler and better feelings than those by which it is habitually occupied, shall we wonder that, upon faith realising the promises and the prospects of the gospel, the heart shall be translated into a new state? What music can be sweeter to the soul than when peace is whispered to it from on high; or what lovelier vision can be offered to its contemplation than that of heaven’s Lord and of heaven’s family; or what more fitted to lay the coarse and boisterous agitations of a present world than the light which has pierced across the grave and revealed the peaceful world that is beyond it? (T. Chalmers, D. D.)

Willing inability

How much waste there is in the world! Beauty, and no eye to see it; music, and no ear to hear it; food, and no creature to eat it; land, barren for want of cultivation. As in nature, so among men, Paul was not peculiar in his experience. There is--

I. Much native talent undeveloped. Parents pay no attention to the natural aptitudes of their children. One has vocal powers, another musical, others artistic, poetic, oratorical, or mechanical. In after life, when a born singer feels the rising of music in his soul, he would sing, but cannot, because lacking the acquired skill. So with the artist and the engineer. This is waste; loss to the community and to the individual. Many a gifted soul has been compelled to say, “I would, but I can’t; and I can’t, not because I want the ability, but the acquired art.”

II. Much skilled talent unused. Men who have educated their minds, trained their fingers, and matured their natural aptitudes, cannot employ them.

1. Cannot find an appropriate sphere for them. They must live, and so are obliged to do something less genial and remunerative. The man who should have been at the plough is in the pulpit, and the man who should have been in the pulpit is behind a counter. These misplaced men say, “I would do better, but can’t.”

2. Many who have found appropriate spheres, cannot do their best, because they are hindered and discouraged.

(1) Many a skilled artisan would do more and better work if better placed. Many a servant would be better with better masters. And many a Christian worker would do more if there were fewer hindrances and more helpful and stimulating conditions.

(2) Men who can rise above such conditions are not always the best. They have often more force than intellect or goodness. There are many men and women who have good heads, warm hearts, and skilled fingers, but lack force, because the body is disordered. The helm, the compass, the captain, and the sea may be all right, but if there is no steam in the machine the vessel will make no headway.

III. Much natural affection unexpressed. There may be sap in the plant, but if there is no sun there will be no flower or fruit. Many hearts want sunshine; the cold chills them. They recoil from uncongenial influences.

1. Sometimes the head is so full of cares that the heart has no play. The mind may be so distracted that it has no time to think of the claims of the heart, or no time or power to respond to its promptings.

2. There are many who can, and who do, both think and feel, but “cannot” for want of means. How gladly would you do many things for those you love! But the hand is empty, the heart swells, and the tongue is dumb. “The good I would do, I do not,” because I cannot.

IV. Much sincere and ardent piety unmanifested. “When I would do good, evil is present with me.” Evil stands like a sentinel at the door of the heart to prevent good getting out, and if it gets out, to distort, cripple, and pollute it.

1. If veneration struggles to express itself in prayer, incarnate evil is at the heart and lips pleading “no time”; and if it struggles through, and makes time, then it distracts the thoughts.

2. If our affections would rise up to God, incarnate evil is there to fetter the soul; and if it escapes, then it presents innumerable idols to eye and heart.

3. If benevolence would show itself, incarnate selfishness bars the way; and if you overcome it, it will fill you with low motives.

4. If your affections try to be beautiful and tender, an evil temper distorts and pollutes them.

5. The life of the soul may be chilled and dwarfed by the want of piety in those around you.

Conclusion:

1. It is possible for a man to feel himself to be greater than his little world, and greater than he can make it.

2. God does not expect more from us than we are capable of being and doing. Virtue under difficulties is of finer quality than under more favourable circumstances, and God regards quality more than quantity. The widow’s mite was of more value than the greater offerings of the rich. He regards and rewards “the willing mind” where nothing more is possible.

3. We might have been better than we are. None of us have made the best use of our opportunities.

4. We might have done better than we have done. There is more cause for humility than for complaint.

5. We may do better in the future. There is no cause for despair. Let us not forget that it is in little things that love best expresses itself. Oh that we may so live and die that we may receive from the Master, “She hath done what she could.” (Wickham Tozer.)

Inefficacious convictions

1. It may be true that the apostle was describing a man under the bondage of the Jewish law, but it is no less true that he might have uttered these words concerning himself. But it must have been a humiliating confession. How much he wished the case to be otherwise! Adam did not more fervently wish it possible to go back into paradise.

2. But we have sometimes heard confessions, in something like the same terms, made in a very different spirit. Confessions that certainly there is something very wrong with us; but, then, there is no helping it; it is the common condition of man.

I. Let us describe this state of mind. A clear apprehension as to the necessity of a serious attention to certain great concerns, and an earnest desire that these great concerns were duly attended to. But, still, they are not or in no such manner as it is felt they ought. Some fatal prevention lies heavy on the active powers, like the incubus in a dream. Again and again the conviction returns upon the man; and he wishes and resolves, but nothing is done. He wishes some mighty force might come upon him, and would be almost willing to be terrified by portentous phenomena. But nature is quiet, spirits do not encounter him, and he remains unmoved.

II. How comes so deplorable a condition of a being “made a little lower than the angels”? It comes of the disorder and ruination of our nature., What is the disorder, the ruination of anything, but its being reduced to a state that frustrates the purpose of its existence, be it a machine, a building, or an animal?

III. But what shall, a man, conscious of and lamenting such a state of mind, do? Shall he absolve himself from all duty respecting it? Soothe himself into a stupid contentment? Resign himself to despair? Infallibly the time must come when he will feet that this was not the way. No; he has a solemn work to do, and he must think of means. The immediate cause of this inefficacy is, that the motives are not strong enough. We want to be under a constant, mighty, driving power of good motives. When a mariner suffers a long, dead calm, how oft he looks up at the sails, and says, “Oh, if the winds would but blow!” Now, there may be persons who will aver that a man can do no more respecting his motives than the mariner respecting the winds, We must think differently, and wish to inquire what practicable means he may find for strengthening the operation of good motives upon his mind.

1. We must deeply think what it is that all the great motives are required for. What in us, for us, by us? This serious thinking will tend to render luminously distinct those grand considerations which ought to constitute our chief motives.

2. Then these being acknowledged, it should be our study to aggravate the force of those considerations in all ways. “There is something that needs to be reinforced. It should be so today.” We should watch for anything to be added to their power, seize on everything that can be thrown into the scale. Observe how this takes place in the case of a motive which falls in with our natural inclination. The motive, then, of itself, as by an instinct for its good, catches all these things that serve to strengthen it. Without our care it avails itself of each casual thought, each passing impression. Observe, too, how fast the very worst motives may grow upon a man, and he never intend it! Oh! not such the condition of the good ones!

3. But, besides this general vigilance, there must be a direct, earnest effort to bring before the mind those realities which are adapted to make the right impressions. And here we appeal to the man who laments in the language of the text, and say, “Cannot you do this?” And if he is sincere he will be willing to sustain a painful repetition of these applications. And if he feels that the motive takes hold of him, oh, let him be earnest that it may be retained and prolonged!

4. In connection with this, it will be well, by an exercise of thought, to endeavour to combine all the motives that tend to the same effect. But take special care of admitting an evil or doubtful principle into this combination. Revenge may work to the same point as justice; but here the companionship of the bad will vitiate the good. Each good motive must, to be of any essential value, be part of a whole system. There must be a vital circulation of the holy principles through the whole soul. The single part cannot by itself have pulsation and warmth and life.

5. Our concern respecting the influence of motives upon us must be directed to this indispensable point--the earnest cultivation of vital religion. This alone can put conscience into them.

6. Dwell often on the most instructive and impressive examples. And also there are many affecting scenes and events applicable to the principles that should move us (the death of friends, dreadful deaths, etc.).

7. Choose the society which furnishes the best incitements.

8. Motives work best in fire, that is, in the warmth and animation of the passions. Where these are faint, so will be the actuating principles. Where, then, there is little fire of soul, let it not be wasted on trifling things, but applied and consecrated to give efficacy to the best principles. When there are barely combustibles enough for offering a sacrifice, it were sacrilege to take them away for baubles and amusements. But there is fire enough in heaven for all our noblest uses, and we want it as much as Elijah, when his altar and offering were drenched in water. But God has put into our hands that which will bring it down. He has promised the Divine energy of His Holy Spirit to those that ask Him. Then what have we to say to Him? “Oh! infuse into these convictions, these motives, Thine own omnipotence! Here is a solemn consideration that glimmers in my mind--make it lighten! Here are the motives which Thou hast sent; but there is something between them and me; oh! make them break in upon me! Here is a languid, unavailing strife of the better principles against an overpowering force; oh! arm those principles with all that there is in heaven that belongs to them, and then my deadly oppressors will be drawn away! Here is a wretched corrupted nature averse to Thee and all that is good; oh! lay Thy new-creating hand upon it and it will be forever Thine!” (John Foster.)