

by
C. W.
Naylor
Part 1 of 2
We are twofold beings. The real
man, the man who will live forever, the man who
is made in the image of God, is not the man that
our eyes gaze upon. For a little while we are
dwellers in a body of clay. In regard to our
physical body we have no preeminence over the
beasts: it is made of clay, and it will return
to the dust from which it came. Our bodies
correspond very closely to those of the animal
creation: theirs and ours have practically the
same function; they are subject to the same
physical laws. So far as his physical being is
concerned, man differs from the animal only in
being more highly organized.
We must not suppose, however,
that because we have an animal body the body is
necessarily impure. Such is not the case.
Nothing of God's creation is impure. The body
becomes impure only when it becomes defiled in
some way through the sin of the soul, but the
body considered by itself is pure, perfectly
pure from a moral standpoint. Every part and
every organ of the body was created for a pure
and holy purpose. They all fulfill God's
purpose. They are, therefore, as pure as God.
All the natural functions of our
bodies are good. We ought to distinguish
carefully between privacy and impurity. Some
functions of the body, we naturally feel, belong
to us alone; others include also those nearest
us; and still others are public in their nature
and have to do with our fellow men in general;
but all these functions are God-created and
pure. Do not allow yourself to believe that they
are otherwise. It is proper and necessary that
there should be a standard of modesty relating
to these functions. It is proper that we should
regard the standard of modesty and not deviate
from it, but we wrong ourselves whenever we
attach to any of these functions the idea of
impurity. Our bodies are pure. Let us use them
as such and keep them as such.
The desires that naturally arise
from these functions are all pure. Get this
thought firmly fixed in your mind: it may
sometime save you serious trouble. When I was
first saved, I did not understand myself, and I
supposed that certain of these functional
desires would cease when I was converted. As
they did not, I became troubled and thought I
was not right. I supposed that if I were really
right in the sight of God, those functional
desires would have ceased, and the fact that
they had not ceased was evidence to me that I
was not right with God. This misapprehension
caused me great distress of mind and doubts and
fears and perplexities. I prayed much, but found
no way out of my difficulty. It was not until I
learned that salvation does not destroy the
natural functions of our bodies that I arrived
at a point where I could have a settled
experience.
Such desires have no spiritual
significance. They are neither moral nor
immoral; they are unmoral. To be thirsty is not
to be sinful. This is only nature's way of
calling for what she needs. It is only her way
of making known the things that are needed for
the proper functioning of the body. So all other
natural desires and appetites arising from the
body have to do only with its proper functioning
and are pure and holy. Do not allow yourself to
think that they are not. You will do yourself an
injustice if you do and make for yourself much
trouble. These desires are every one necessary.
You could not spare a single one of them and be
normal.
The gratification of these
functional desires in a lawful way is pure and
beneficial. These functions and the desires
arising from them were made for man and pertain
only to man. They have no spiritual significance
whatever. They have no more relation to God than
have such desires in an animal. Spiritually we
are none the worse if we have them, and none the
better if we do not have them.
But God has seen that it was
fitting and wise to impose upon us certain
restrictions in the gratification of natural
desires. These restrictions are for man's good.
The restriction is upon willing and choosing,
and not upon desire. We have no choice as to
whether we shall have these desires or not, but
we do have a choice as to how they shall be
permitted to manifest themselves. The will
regulates their gratification, and if they are
given improper gratification, it is the will
becomes responsible, and it is the will that is
defiled. The improper use of our physical
functions, improper gratification of desires,
may make those functions and desires abnormal.
It may require the exercise of considerable
will-power to restrain them within proper
bounds, but even in such a case the desire
itself is not evil. It is only unlawful
gratification that is evil. Sometimes we have
desires that we wish we did not have. Sometimes
desire is hard to control. It asserts itself
with force and clamors for gratification. We may
wish that it did not do this, but, as already
stated, such desire is not impure. It only
requires that we keep it within the bounds that
God has set for its gratification. Sometimes
desire becomes abnormal, as desire for liquor or
tobacco or narcotics. Such desires cannot be
defiling so long as the will says no to them.
Sometimes the procreative function originates
strong desire. This is sometimes true where the
body is in an abnormal condition. The principles
already stated apply in such a condition also.
There is no impurity unless the will fails to
properly control desire when it might and should
control it.
Do not lose sight of the fact
that God created all the functions of your body
and that you may gratify all these functions in
a lawful and pure way with his approval upon
you. To associate the idea of impurity with
these functions or the desires arising from them
or the lawful gratification of these desires is
to charge God with being the author of impurity.
All these physical desires will
persist so long as our bodies function properly.
I have known men to teach publicly that after we
are sanctified certain of these desires never
manifest themselves again. There is no warrant
for such teaching. It implies that such desires
are impure. God will never take out of us
anything that he put in us. He will never
condemn us for doing that which he sees
necessary for our well-being. Sanctification
purifies us and renders us holy in body and
spirit, but it does not make us anything but
men. It does not make of us something different
from what God intended us to be, and in the
beginning he made us what he intended us to be.
All these functional desires must
be guided by intelligence and restrained by the
will. God has given us judgment, and he expects
us to use it in the right way. He expects us to
keep under our bodies and bring them into
subjection so that we may be holy and without
blame before him in love. He has given us the
power to judge and discriminate between the
right use of and the abuse of our faculties and
proclivities. We should use this intelligence.
We do not need superhuman intelligence for this;
we need only common sense. If we go to extremes
in any way, nature will exact the penalty. The
presence of the Spirit of God in our hearts will
oftentimes have a modifying effect upon our
physical desires; especially is this true where
these have become abnormal.
During life there is a constant
warfare between the flesh and the spirit. The
man who is ruled by the flesh and has desire for
his master, works that which is evil in the
sight of the Lord, but the man who has "power
over his own will" (that is, the will to use his
power of self-control) and brings himself into
subjection to the Spirit of God, will live
righteously and godly in Christ Jesus. Appetite
knows nothing of property rights nor of the laws
of God or man. It knows no distinction of right
and wrong, of purity and impurity. If I am
hungry, any appetizing food will attract me, and
desire will reach out after it. Who owns that
food does not matter; desire wants it. Desire
knows nothing of ownership nor does it care
about the owner. Intelligence knows and
recognizes property rights; therefore
intelligence and will must control appetite. If
they do not and appetite gains the mastery, then
the man becomes a sinner. As long as the
spiritual man is in the ascendancy, as long as
he rules, he keeps under the physical; but when
the physical gains the ascendancy, the spiritual
man ceases to be innocent and pure, and becomes
sensual. That is, either the spirit must give up
its way or the flesh must surrender to the
spirit where their desires are contrary. This
warfare is not a warfare of sin against
righteousness; it is a warfare of the spirit
against the flesh, of the spiritual against the
natural. This warfare is not a thing of a day or
a month, but it is a thing of a lifetime.
Natural desire runs out to any object that can
gratify it. The spirit's task is to limit it,
and gratify it only in a right manner. When this
is done, purity is maintained. If we fall to do
this, we become defiled and sinful.
The Mental Constitution
Mentally man is a trinity,
composed of reason, will, and the sensibilities.
We might compare him to a steamship. His body is
the hull and the power-plant. Reason or
intellect is, or should be, the navigator. The
will is the engineer and pilot. The
sensibilities are the heating and refrigerating
plants. It is in reason and will that man rises
farthest God ward. These are the really
important things in his constitution; everything
else is secondary. It is through these that he
knows God and obeys him. It is through these
that we are made moral creatures and are subject
to moral law and can know and understand moral
problems and principles. It is through these
that we draw nigh to the animals. When God
illuminates the intellect and controls the will,
he has a man for his service. These are the
citadels of man's soul, and it is to them that
God's appeal is made and through them that man
becomes godlike.
The place of reason is in the
chart-house of our vessel. God has given us a
chart - his precious Word. Reason must study
this chart and from it lay life's course. It
must choose the port to which we shall sail and
the course over which we shall sail. It must
watch for the dangers that lie in the way. It
must know the hidden rocks; it must know the
shoals, the currents, and the various other
dangers of navigation. It must read the
weather-signs, so that we may know when the
storms are coming and how to prepare for them
and how best to weather them when they come. It
must take the observations and locate our
position on the voyage of life. It must decide
all the problems of navigation. It must find the
way out of all difficulties and dangers. Reason,
illuminated by the Holy Spirit, is our only safe
navigator. If we trust to anything else, we
shall run upon the rocks and be lost.
The will must steer our vessel
upon its course. Our lives must not be left to
chance, but must be guided by a steady hand.
Many dangerous rocks lie hidden in the in the
sea of life. Unless a strong hand holds the
wheel and obeys the voice of the navigator, we
may make shipwreck. We dare not let every
current carry us whither it will. We dare not
let ourselves drift wherever the wind would blow
us. We must keep straight upon our course.
Knowing this, God has given us our wills to be
the helmsmen of our vessels and to steer them in
the straight and safe course that leads to the
port of everlasting glory. The will must have
the directing control of all the energies of our
vessel. It must keep its hand upon the throttle
of our lives. It must direct all our energies in
the proper way. If any of our energies are not
subject to our will, there is certain to be
disorder in our lives. The will must be absolute
master of our powers.
We need never expect to come to
the place where our powers will always work good
automatically. There is no such thing as an
automatic Christian. Doing right is a matter of
willing to do right and bringing the forces of
our being into subjection to our will so that
they work what the will has decreed that they
shall work. We must often use our wills to
compel ourselves to do that which is right,
against our natural inclination. The Bible takes
no account of our feelings. It points out duty.
It says, "Do this" or "Do not do this." It says,
"Be this" and "Do not be that." It does not say,
"Feel patient"; it says, "Be patient." It does
not say that we shall not feel tempted; it says
that we shall not yield to temptation. When it
points out any duty, it does not say, "Feel
inclined to do this duty"; it says, "Do this."
It lays upon the will the whole responsibility
for the conduct. We are never judged by our
feelings, but are judged by our wills. If reason
and will are on the side of right, then the
individual is judged as being right, and his
conduct is approved.
The will must be subject to the
orders of reason and resolutely carry them out.
The reason that so many people are evil-doers is
not because they have not enough intelligence to
know the right, but because their wills do not
act in harmony with their intelligence. They
know what is right, but they do not will to act
according to their knowledge. In many things
they go contrary to their judgment; they do
things that they know are unwise. They
deliberately set aside their reason and do that
which they know will bring the condemnation of
God upon them and will be ruinous to their lives
here and hereafter. When the will chooses its
own course regardless of the reason, it always
makes shipwreck of the life. It is imperative,
therefore, that you make your will subject to
the dictates of your reason. If you do not, only
disaster awaits you.
Our Sensibilities and Emotions
I have likened our sensibilities
and emotions to the heating and refrigerating
plants of a steamer. All the warmth in life
comes through our feelings; all the joy, peace,
gladness, mirth, contentment, brightness,
happiness, and other similar things come to us
through our feelings. Without emotions life
would be a cold, bleak waste. They are the
things that make life worth while. They are as
needful in their sphere as reason and will in
their spheres. Not only does the warmth and
charm of life come through our sensibilities,
but also all that chills in life. Sorrow, pain,
sadness, gloom, discouragement, despondency,
remorse - all these have their seat in our
sensibilities. From these come both the sunshine
and the clouds of life. They bring to us both
the bitter and the sweet.
Our emotions are always active,
or at least rarely in a state of rest, during
our waking hours. They are in a great measure
independent of control. They work as they will.
The will can influence them, but its control is
limited. We cannot feel any certain way just
because we will to do so. We cannot feel pleased
or happy or contented just because we desire to
do so. Our feelings are creatures of influence
and circumstances. Whatever acts upon our
feelings will produce results, no matter what it
is that acts nor in what manner it acts. The
feelings have no power of judgment, no
discretion; they respond to whatever influence
works upon them. They have no power of choice.
They are like the strings of musical
instruments, which respond to every touch and
likewise to the quality of the touch.
Circumstances may strike sweet melodies and rich
harmonies of rejoicing, or they may strike
discords of pain and sorrow. The chords that
sound out depend more upon the player than upon
the instrument; for the same instrument is
capable of sounding forth many differing chords.
I said that the will could
influence our feelings, but not rule them. The
extent to which it may affect them depends upon
the strength of the will. It may affect them in
different ways. It may repress them for a time.
It may put a brake upon them and prevent their
free action. It may often set bounds to limit
them, even though it has not perfect control
over them. It may also set up a contrary
influence through some other emotion by bringing
some influence to bear upon it, and thus make
one emotion balance or restrict the other. This
is something that every Christian needs very
much to learn. We may turn the attention away
from that which is exciting some emotion to the
contemplation of something that will either
quiet the emotion or set up another kind. If we
are sad or discouraged or despondent, and we let
our minds run in the channel of our feelings, we
shall only feel worse and worse. We should
deliberately turn our minds from the dark side
of the picture to that which is bright and
uplifting. Look upon God and the beautiful
things of his character. Look at the promises of
his Word - look at the things that are in our
favor. Look at hopeful things. Look away from
the gloom and darkness, and you will soon find
that the things at which you look react upon
your feelings and that the gloomy feelings pass
away. Giving your thought and attention to these
brighter things will set up an emotion contrary
to that which has been working, and it will
balance or restrict the former, or possibly
entirely overcome it.
Have you ever seen a person who
had some trouble physically and who seemed to
delight in telling his trouble to everybody he
met? It was a favorite topic of conversation
with him. Of course, the more he would talk
about it, the more he would feel it and the more
conscious of it he would be. Probably if he had
quit talking about it and forgotten it, he would
soon have felt all right. It is the same with
our spiritual feelings: the more we think about
our troubles, and the more we tell them, the
greater they become. Never let bad feelings hold
your attention. Turn you mind resolutely away
from them. As often as it comes back to them,
turn it away to something else, until you form
the habit of thinking of that which is good and
uplifting and encouraging. In such things as
these we are what we make of ourselves.
Gloominess is a habit; so is cheerfulness. We
cannot prevent bad feelings from coming
sometimes, but we need not give them place or
pet them when they do come. There are too many
good and too many beautiful things in life, too
many things enjoyable, for us to allow our minds
to run on the dark side of things very much.
Whatever occupies our attention, shuts out other
things. Therefore if we let the dark side of the
picture occupy our attention, we cannot see the
bright side; but if we will turn out eyes away
from the dark side, we shall find that there is
a bright side at which we may look. As we look
at the bright side, it will react upon our
emotions, and we shall be joyful instead of
being in heaviness. We may be glad instead of
being in mourning. We may be encouraged instead
of being discouraged. Say to your emotions
resolutely, "Thus far shalt thou go and no
farther." Set a bound for them beyond which they
may not pass, and repress all bad feelings, and
so make way for good ones.
The sensibilities are active and
very often try to usurp the place of reason and
the will. There is danger in permitting this. If
we decide by our feelings what is right and what
we ought to do, our feelings may soon change,
and we shall think something else is right or
that we ought to do some other way, and so we
shall be unsettled. One time we shall feel as if
we should do a thing, and shortly afterwards we
may find that we feel as if we should not do it.
At one time we may feel that a thing is right,
and soon come to question it when we feel some
other way. Reason must be the master. It is the
one that is to lay out our course. Reason should
decide for us what is right and what is wrong.
Do not let your feelings usurp reason's place.
Try to understand the principles that are
involved. Decide the rightness or wrongness of
the thing by these principles, not by your
feelings. This is the only safe way. It is only
by doing this that you can ever be settled in
any course of conduct very long at a time.
The feelings are blind. They
cannot observe the compass; they cannot see the
chart; they cannot see where the dangers lie.
Hence they cannot lay a safe course. Suppose the
captain of a vessel should place a blind man in
the pilot-house, and this blind man should trust
to his feelings to mark out the course and steer
away from the rocks. Should you like to trust
your safety to such a pilot? This is exactly
what you do when you trust your feelings to be
your pilot on the sea of life. Whenever we let
feelings usurp the place of reason, we have a
blind pilot. That is why so many persons make
shipwreck and why so many get into trouble. If
the feelings give the will orders how to steer
and how to use our energies, only disaster can
come; but this is just what thousands are doing.
They give more heed to their feelings than to
anything else. The Word of God counts less than
feelings. No matter what it says, if their
feelings do not agree with it, they cannot trust
it.
Too many people let feelings make
the observations in their lives. When they want
to know where they are, they consult their
feelings. They feel that they are so and so, and
they conclude that feeling knows. They must be
as they feel, they think, or they would not feel
so. Suppose you were on a ship when you knew
that the captain was running the vessel
according to his feelings. He would suppose
himself to be where he felt he was. He might
have ever so much confidence in his feelings,
but would you feel really safe? could you make
yourself believe that his feelings were a safe
guide for the ship? If our feelings are not safe
guides in natural things, are they in spiritual
things? Notwithstanding the folly of such a
course, many persons judge themselves almost
exclusively by their emotions. When they feel
all right, they think they are all right; when
they do not feel so well, they do not have such
confidence in themselves.
Reason has its chart and compass,
its sextant and its astronomical tables, and all
other things necessary to make observations with
accuracy and certainty. Feeling only guesses.
Shall we take the ready and impulsive answer of
our feelings, or shall we wait for reason by its
more sure means to tell us the facts? When
reason speaks and feeling contradicts it, which
is the safer to believe? Which is the safer
guide? Sometimes people know from the standpoint
of their reason and the Word of God that they
are doing what is their duty to do as
Christians, but at the same time their feelings
are not what they suppose they ought to be. In
fact, they may not feel as they desire to at
all. Their feelings may be exactly opposite to
the testimony of their understanding. Such
persons are often prone to accept the testimony
of their feelings rather than that of their
intelligence. This is always an unwise course.
Our sensibilities are blind; they have no power
to discriminate between fact and falsehood.
Whatever we accept as truth or probable truth
has upon our emotions all the force of things
known to be facts. If I believe my friend is
dead, I shall have the same feelings as though
he were dead, no matter if he is in perfect
health. If we believe that we are wrong in
something, we shall feel that we are wrong,
whether we are or are not. Do not be a creature
of your feelings. Do not be ruled by them. Do
not let them mar your peace. Settle your
condition from some other standpoint. Take the
Word of God. It will not deceive you, but your
feelings may if you trust in them.
Evidence of Feelings Unreliable
We may feel safe when we are in
grave danger. Two men were recently walking
across a piece of ground. They felt very much at
ease. There appeared to be no danger whatever,
but just in front of them was a heavy charge of
dynamite with a burning fuse attached. Only the
earnest cries of a man who knew the danger saved
them from walking right upon it and being
killed. On the other hand, we may feel that we
are in danger when we are perfectly safe. The
sinner often feels very safe in his sins, when,
in truth, he is in the very greatest danger.
Some Christians feel themselves in grave danger,
but they are perfectly safe if they will but
trust God.
Sometimes people feel very bad
when they do not know of their having done
anything amiss. Again, some feel condemned when
they have done something that they know was not
wrong. Their reason tells them that it was not
wrong. The Bible does not condemn it, and yet
someway, somehow, they feel condemned over it.
The adversary delights to take advantage of us
at such times if we will permit him. If we do
anything that is wrong, the Spirit of God will
show us what we have done that is wrong and why
it is wrong. He will not leave us to wonder and
question. He will put his finger on the thing
and say, "There it is; there is the trouble."
God makes things plain to us. The adversary
brings confusion. He generally leaves us in
uncertainty. He cannot point out anything, or
usually does not. The most he can usually say
is, "You have done something. There is something
wrong. "Your feelings are ready to join right in
with him and echo the strain. Yes, you have done
something, but what? You may argue, "If I were
saved, I should not feel this way." How do you
know that you should not? The question is not,
"How do you feel, but, How are you? Feelings
must give place to reason. Whenever you judge
your condition and spiritual standing by your
feelings, whether those feelings be good or bad,
whether they be in your favor or against you,
you are doing a very unwise thing. Base your
salvation upon something more substantial than
feelings. I have seen more than one sinner so
enthused that he could leap and shout and praise
the Lord. I have seen more than one good saint
crushed down until he could not raise his head.
We cannot tell conditions by
feelings. Some very dangerous diseases produce
practically no suffering. I have known cases
where the danger was very grave and where the
patients could not be prevailed up on to think
that there was anything seriously wrong with
them. Some things that are very painful are not
dangerous, and in fact represent disorder of a
very minor character. True Christians sometimes
have bad feelings when these feelings are no
index whatever to their spiritual condition.
Read the life of John Bunyan. See the things
that he suffered through his sensitive feelings.
Sometimes he would feel that he was a great
sinner and just ready to drop into hell. He was
not such; he was a pious and holy man. Thousands
of others have had similar experiences, and the
writer is one.