Bishop Ryle: An excerpt from “Form or Heart?”

I came across this portion of an essay by J.C. Ryle today, and thought it was worth posting; the title of the essay is “Form or Heart?” and this portion is on the heart being the seat of true religion:

The heart is the seat of true religion, and the true Christian is the Christian in heart.

The heart is the real test of a man’s character. It is not what he says or what he does, by which the man may be always known. He may say and do things that are right from false and unworthy motives, while his heart is altogether wrong. The heart is the man. “As he thinketh in his heart so is he” (Prov. xxiii. 7).

The heart is the right test of a man’s religion. It is not enough that a man holds a correct creed of doctrine, and maintains a proper outward form of godliness. What is his heart?—That is the grand question. This is what God looks at. “Man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart” (I Sam. xvi. 7). This is what St. Paul lays down distinctly as the standard measure of the soul: “He is a Jew which is one inwardly, and circumcision is that of the heart” (Rom. ii. 28). Who can doubt that this mighty sentence was written for Christians as well as for Jews? He is a Christian, the apostle would have us know, which is one inwardly, and baptism is that of the heart.

The heart is the place where saving religion must begin. It is naturally irreligious, and must be renewed by the Holy Ghost. “A new heart will I give unto you.”—It is naturally hard, and must be made tender and broken. “I will take away the heart of stone, and I will give you a heart of flesh.” “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise.”—It is naturally closed and shut against God, and must be opened. The Lord “opened the heart” of Lydia (Ezek. xxxvi. 26; Psalm li. 7; Acts xvi. 14).

The heart is the seat of true saving faith. “With the heart man believeth unto righteousness” (Rom. x. 10). A man may believe that Jesus is the Christ, as the devils do, and yet remain in his sins. He may believe that he is a sinner, and that Christ is the only Saviour, and feel occasional, lazy wishes that he was a better man. But no one ever lays hold on Christ, and receives pardon and peace, until he believes with the heart. It is heart-faith that justifies.

The heart is the spring of true holiness and steady continuance in well doing. True Christians are holy because their hearts are interested. They obey from the heart. They do the will of God from the heart. Weak, and feeble, and imperfect as all their doings are, they please God, because they are done from a loving heart. He who commended the widow’s mite more than all the offerings of the wealthy Jews regards quality far more than quantity. What He likes to see is, a thing done from an honest and good heart. There is no real holiness without a right heart.

Reader, the things I am saying may sound strange. Perhaps they run counter to all your notions. Perhaps you have thought that if a man’s religion is correct outwardly, he must be one with whom God is well pleased. You are completely mistaken. You are rejecting the whole tenor of Bible teaching. Outward correctness without a right heart is neither more nor less than Phariseeism. The outward things of Christianity,—baptism, the Lord’s Supper, Church-membership, almsgiving, and the like,—will never take any man’s soul to heaven, unless his heart is right. There must be inward things as well as outward,—and it is on the inward things that God’s eyes are chiefly fixed.

Hear how St. Paul teaches us about this matter, in three most striking texts. “In Jesus Christ neither circumcision availeth anything, nor uncircumcision, but faith which worketh by love.” “In Christ Jesus neither circumcision availeth anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creature.” “Circumcision is nothing, and uncircumcision is nothing, but the keeping of the commandments of God” (Galat. v. 6; Galat. vi. 5; i Cor. vii. 9). Did the Apostle only mean in these texts that circumcision was no longer needed under the Gospel? Was that all? No, indeed! I believe he meant much more. He meant that true religion did not consist of forms, and that its essence was something far greater than being circumcised or not circumcised. He meant that under Christ Jesus, everything depended on being born again,—on having true saving faith,—on being holy in life and conduct. He meant that these are the things we ought to look at chiefly, and not at outward forms. “Am I a new creature? Do I really believe on Christ? Am I a holy man?” These are the grand questions that I must seek to answer.

When the heart is wrong, all is wrong in God’s sight. Many right things may be done. The forms and ordinances which God Himself has appointed may seem to be honoured. But so long as the heart is at fault, God is not pleased. He will have man’s heart or nothing.

The ark was the most sacred thing in the Jewish tabernacle. On it was the mercy-seat. Within it were the tables of the law, written by God’s own finger. The High Priest alone was allowed to go into the place where it was kept, within the veil, and that only once every year. The presence of the ark with the camp was thought to bring a special blessing. And yet this very ark could do the Israelites no more good than any common wooden box, when they trusted to it like an idol, with their hearts full of wickedness. They brought it over into the camp, on a special occasion, saying, “Let us fetch the ark, that it may save us out of the hand of our enemies” (I Sam. iv. 3). When it came into the camp they showed it all reverence and honour. “They shouted with a great shout, so that the earth rang again.” But it was all in vain. They were smitten before the Philistines and the ark itself was taken. And why was this? It was because their religion was a mere form. They honoured the ark, but did not give the God of the ark their hearts.

There were kings of Judah and Israel who did many things that were right in God’s sight, and yet were never written in the list of godly and righteous men. Rehoboam began well, and for three years walked in the way of David and Solomon” (2 Chron. xi. 17). But afterwards he did evil, because he prepared not his heart to seek the Lord” (2 Chron. xii. 14). Abijah, in Chronicles, said many things that were right, and fought successfully against Jeroboam. Nevertheless the general verdict is against him. We read, in Kings, that “his heart was not perfect with the Lord His God” (I Kings xv. 3). Amaziah, we are expressly told, “did that which was right in the sight of the Lord, but not with a perfect heart” (2 Chron. xxv. 2). Jehu, King of Israel, was raised up, by God’s command, to put down idolatry. He was a man of special zeal in doing God’s work. But unhappily it is written of him, “he took no heed to walk in the law of the Lord God of Israel with all his heart: for he departed not from the sins of Jeroboam, which made Israel to sin” (2 Kings x.. 31). In short, one general remark applies to all these Kings. They were all wrong inwardly. They were rotten at heart.

There are places of worship at this very day, where all the outward things of religion are done to perfection. The building is beautiful. The service is beautiful. The singing is beautiful. The forms of devotion are beautiful. There is everything to gratify the senses. Eye, and ear, and natural sentimentality are all pleased. But all this time God is not pleased. One thing is lacking, and the want of that one thing spoils all. What is that one thing? It is heart! God sees, under all this fair outward show, the form of religion put in the place of the substance; and when He sees that He is displeased. He sees nothing with an eye of favour in the building, the service, the priest, or the people, if He does not see converted, renewed, broken, penitent hearts. Bowed heads, bended knees, loud amens, crossed hands, faces turned to the east,—all, all are nothing in God’s sight, without right hearts.

When the heart is right, God can look over many things that are defective. There may be faults in judgment, and infirmities in practice. There may be many deviations from the best course in the outward things of religion. But if the heart is sound in the main, God is not extreme to mark that which is amiss. He is merciful and gracious, and will pardon much that is imperfect, when He sees a true heart and a single eye.

Jehoshaphat and Asa were Kings of Judah, who were defective in many things. Jehoshaphat was a timid, irresolute man, who did not know how to say “No,” and joined affinity with Ahab, the wickedest king that ever reigned over Israel. Asa was an unstable man, who at one time trusted in the King of Syria more than in God, and at another time was wroth with God’s prophet for rebuking him (2 Chron. xvi. 10). Yet both of them had one great redeeming point in their characters. With all their faults they had right hearts.

The passover kept by Hezekiah was one at which there were many irregularities. The proper forms were not observed by many. They ate the passover “otherwise than the commandment” ordered. But they did it with true and honest hearts. And we read that Hezekiah prayed for them, saying, “The good Lord pardon every one that prepareth his heart to seek God, though he be not cleansed according to the purification of the sanctuary. And the Lord hearkened to Hezekiah, and healed the people” (2 Chron. xxx. 18-20).

The passover kept by Josiah must have been far smaller and worse attended than scores of passovers in the days of David and Solomon, or even in the reign of Jehoshaphat and Hezekiah. How then can we account for the strong language used in Scripture about it? “There was no passover like to that kept in Israel, from the days of Samuel the prophet; neither did all the Kings of Israel keep such a passover as Josiah kept, and the priests, and the Levites, and all Judah and Israel that were present” (2 Chron. xxxv. 18.). There is but one explanation. There never was a passover at which the hearts of the worshippers were so truly in the feast. The Lord does not look at the quantity of worshippers so much as the quality. The glory of Josiah’s passover was the state of people’s hearts.

There are many assemblies of Christian worshippers on earth, at this very day, in which there is literally nothing to attract the natural man. They meet in miserable dirty chapels, so-called, or in wretched upper rooms and cellars. They sing unmusically. They hear feeble prayers, and more feeble sermons. And yet the Holy Ghost is often in the midst of them! Sinners are often converted in them, and the kingdom of God prospers far more than in any Roman Catholic cathedral, or than many gorgeous Protestant churches. How is this? How can it be explained? The cause is simply thus: that in these humble assemblies heart-religion is taught and held. Heart-work is aimed at. Heart-work is honoured. And the consequence is, that God is pleased and grants His blessing.

Reader, I leave this part of my subject here. I ask you to weigh well the things that I have been saying: I believe that they will bear examination, and are all true. Resolve this day, whatever Church you belong to, to be a Christian in heart. Whether Episcopalian or Presbyterian, Baptist or Independent, be not content with a mere form of godliness, without the power. Settle it down firmly in your minds that formal religion is not saving religion, and that heart-religion is the only religion that leads to heaven.

I only give you one word of caution. Do not suppose because formal religion will not save, that forms of religion are of no use at all. Beware of any such senseless extreme. The misuse of a thing is no argument against the right use of it. The blind idolatry of forms which prevails in some quarters, is no reason why you should throw all forms aside. The ark, when made an idol of by Israel and put in the place of God, was unable to save them from the Philistines. And yet the same ark, when irreverently and profanely handled, brought death on Uzza; and when honoured and reverenced, brought a blessing on the house of Obed Edom. The words of Bishop Hall are strong, but true: “He that hath but a form is a hypocrite; but he that hath not a form is an Atheist” (Hall’s sermons, No. 28). Forms cannot save us, but they are not therefore to be despised. A lantern is not a man’s home, and yet it is a help to a man if he travels towards his home in a dark night. Use the forms of Christianity diligently, and you will find them a blessing. Only remember, in all your use of forms, the great principle, that the first thing in religion is the state of the heart.

As with all of Bishop Ryle’s writings, it is evident that he had a true pastoral concern for the “state of the heart” of his parishioners and readers. May we not be content with a “form of godliness, lacking the power,” but instead pray to the Lord for His grace in our hearts and lives.