ghtful perplexity as to the
nearness of God to His creatures, and obliged to say that--

God is never so far off
As even to be near;
He dwells within, the spirit is
The home He holds most dear.

His faith was not merely that the Word became flesh that He might bring
God to us, but the Word living and suffering that He might bring us to
God; His religion not merely the humiliation of the Creator, but, in a
very real sense, the exaltation of the creature and practical union
with the Lord of the spirits of all flesh; not only that He for our
sakes became poor, but also, that we through His poverty might be made
rich. It is into this riches of our inheritance that we want to look
this evening.

Do we know what it is to have not only a heaven in prospect but also
one in possession, and to see in Christ a High Priest of good things
present as well as of good things to come? It seems to me that in this
passage the Religion of Jesus is presented to us in two lights: (i.) as
believing and receiving; (ii.) as believing and becoming. Some people
stop short with believing and do not receive. But our faith is
certainly an appropriative faculty; a sort of hand of the soul that can
be stretched out to take hold of God's offered gifts; or to link itself
on to God's hand outstretched to guide us. Of what use would a hand be
that never grasped anything? Perhaps some promise stands out before
us, telling us His Mind, or it may have been impressed upon us by His
Spirit. Even from a weak faith we can obtain promises; because faith
apprehends the nature of God; and as soon as we begin to apprehend
that, we see that certain things ought to happen, and ere long these
things shape themselves into definite promises which faith applies. So
the life is one of believing and receiving; and as our faith pleads the
promises, and the appropriative power of the soul is exercised, we find
the kingdom of God come to us not in word but in power. But our
religion is also believing and becoming; "that as many as received Him
might become the children of God, even those who believe in His name."
Much of our faith, so-called, is only a beating of the air, and not
really an advancement of the soul; we profess a great deal which has no
practical bearing on our own lives. Yet all true believing is
becoming, and a man cannot be a follower of the Lamb, in the real sense
of the term, without his becoming moment by moment a different man; he