List Of Contents | Contents of The Heart-Cry of Jesus, by Byron J. Rees
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announced among those who are awakened on the subject, immediately
there is a great cry, "I don't want to hear any more about
sanctification." One would think by the excitement aroused that
people are actually afraid lest they should by some manner of
means be deprived of the privilege of being tempted. Let all such
allay their fears. Jesus was tempted even on the pinnacle of the
temple, and we will never be above our Lord, and may well expect
temptation until we pass from this world-stage to the other land.
No responsible Christian student teaches any such chimera as a
life without temptation obtainable now.


Personally, we have never heard anyone make such a claim. What we
do teach, and, better still, far better, WHAT GOD PROMISES, is an
experience where we need not YIELD to temptation. There is a
difference, vast and important, between being tempted and yielding
to temptation.


A man is en route from New York to the West via the Pennsylvania
Railroad. The express stops at a junction in the mountains. He
leaves the car and walks up and down on the platform enjoying the
view. Near the station is a park. Beautiful flowering shrubbery,
shell walks, ivy-clad piles of rocks, splashing fountains,
majestic shade trees and well-kept turf make the place attractive.
Beyond the pretty village a wooded mountain rises toward the
bluest of skies, enticing to a stroll amid the beauties of a
forest. The preacher is strongly tempted to stop over a day and
enjoy a brief rest. Then he thinks of his word, given in good
faith, to be in a certain place at an appointed hour; he remembers
the souls which God might save through the sermon which he is
expected to preach the next evening. He is tired and jaded and
worn. Would he not be justified in telegraphing that he would not
come until a day or so later than expected? It is a stout
temptation; but when the black-faced porter shouts, "All aboard,"
and the bell rings he walks into the hot and dirty car and
continues his tiresome journey. Does not the reader see that a
temptation to rest is very different from stopping and breaking an
engagement and disappointing an audience?


On life's express we are all liable to temptation. We are
solicited to tarry, but we are so intent on our destination, and
especially are we so charmed with our travelling Companion, that
we bid farewell to fountain, and gravelled walks, and towering
mountains and push on to that city.


Another misrepresentation, the circulation of which Satan delights
to further, is that sanctification is an experience in which we
can not sin, and when through this idea men lift their hands in
horror and desist from seeking this precious grace, all hell
chuckles with real satisfaction. But who teaches such fanaticism?
Life is always a probation. The will is free. The Bible teaches
this truth, and we believe it. The holiest saint on earth may, IF
HE CHOOSE, sin and go to hell. Everything hangs upon the choice.
Thank God we NEED not fall. Falling is possible, but not


A third evil report is that sanctification is an impracticable
day-dream, unfit for everyday life and the common round of duties.
"It is," so it is said, "all very well for ministers, and class
leaders, and superintendents of Sunday-schools, and people who are
not very busy in life to get sanctification, but it will not stand
the strain and tension to which it would be subjected in some
lives." But "God is no respecter of persons," and what He will do
for one of His children He will do for all. And then, if we only
knew it, sanctification is just suited to the life of trial and


If there is a man to be found who has to labor hard all day and
has a life full of care, sanctification is just the experience he
needs. Read the life of Mrs. Fletcher, and see how sanctification
can help a woman with multitudinous domestic cares. Study the
lives of "Billy" Bray and William Carvosso, and remember that it
was santification which helped these men in their difficulties. If
there is a soul anywhere filled with unspeakable sorrow, shivering
alone in the dark, the brightest light that can come to that
stricken soul is full salvation. No matter how sharp the thorn,
nor how galling the fetter, sanctification turns the thorn into
oil, and the fetter into a chain of plaited flowers.


It is said by some that sanctification makes people "clannish."
Clannish is a word with a rather offensive taste on the tongue,
and is altogether too harsh a word to apply to that congregative
instinct that makes pure-minded persons crave the fellowship of
kindred spirits. There is nothing intentionally exclusive about
the holiness movement. If a man is shut out it is because he shuts
himself out; if he does not feel at home in a full salvation
service it is because he has not yet obtained full salvation.


Men who share great truths and principles in common find in each
other's presence and fellowship great help. Admirers of Browning
form "Browning Clubs"; foot-ball men gather themselves into
"associations"; ministers meet in "Monday meetings"; Christians
organize "churches"; is it to be thought strange if people who are
sanctified wholly delight to meet for conference and mutual


A few uninformed persons say that "holiness splits the church."
But this is false. When men love God with all their heart and
their neighbors as themselves, nothing can separate them. If,
however, people of different sorts and kinds, some saved and some
unsaved, are in one organization, it will not require anything
much to make them differ in opinion. The real ecclesia, the
genuine church, is not so easily split. One of our most brilliant
and spiritual holiness writers has remarked in pleasantry that the
anxiety of some in regard to the splitting of the church would
lead one to think that there was something inside which they were
afraid would be seen in case of a cleavage.


Keep to the Bible idea of sanctification. Let not the adversary
dupe you and frighten you from its quest and obtainment. Begin
now; seek, search, pray, consecrate, believe, and soon the
blessing will fall upon your waiting soul.




The men for whom Christ prayed were converted men, and were living
in justified relation to God. In proof of this statement, let the
reader study the context carefully.


In the sixteenth chapter of St. John, the one immediately
preceding the sacerdotal prayer, the conversation which is
recorded would be impossible were the disciples conscious of
guilt. One can not read those sublime verses without the
irresistible conviction that the disciples' sky of soul-
consciousness was blue and cloudless. There is no hint in Christ's
discourse that these men are "of the world," but rather it is
taken for granted that they are children of God and heirs of the


It is the sheerest folly for one to maintain that the conversion
of the disciples did not occur prior to Pentecost. If words mean
anything, Jesus made a specific statement to the contrary.
"Rejoice," says He, "that your names are written in heaven." In
His prayer He says to His Father: "They have kept Thy word"; "they
are Thine"; "I pray for them, I pray not for the world." Notice
the distinction which He makes between "them" and "the world."
These men are picked men. They are very different from the great
unpardoned, sinful throng outside the kingdom--they are


A very good evidence of the genuineness of the conversion of the
disciples was their painstaking care to follow out minutely the
directions of their ascended Lord. He had prayed for their
sanctification; they desired it. He had spoken of a coming
Comforter, and they eagerly awaited His advent. He had said,
"Tarry in Jerusalem until" His arrival, and they conscientiously
met in an "upper room" for a ten-day prayer-meeting. "Farewell!
friends; farewell! memory-haunted synagogues; farewell! sacred
temple; farewell! long-bearded priests; farewell all! we must go
to prayer: our Lord said that we should be sanctified." And thus
in long line the one hundred and twenty file up the stairs to the
Chamber of Blessing. There is no lightness, no jesting, no
quibbling, no bickering; all are serious, terribly in earnest,
intent on "the promise of the Father." There is Peter, impulsive
and eager, whole-hearted and enthusiastic; there is the meek and
quiet Mary, who sat at Jesus' feet at the old home in Bethany;
there is the child-like saint, the devout and spiritual John;
there is the repentant woman of Magdala; and there are many others
who betake themselves to that sacred place--"the upper room." One
all-engrossing thought fills their minds. "The promise of the
Father which ye have heard of me. The promise of the Father! The
promise of the Father! O, when will He come? We would know more
about our departed Lord. He is gone from us. Our hearts are torn
and bleeding and lonely. Jesus said, 'He shall testify of me.'
Would that He would come now!"


But why are there only one hundred and twenty? Was it not into
Jerusalem that Christ entered riding over a cloak-carpeted way
amid the deafening shouts of "Hosanna"? Did He not teach and
instruct and heal hundreds, if not thousands, in and about
Jerusalem? Was He not lionized at times by an admiring public?
Yea, truly; but one may admire Christ and yet not love Him. There
are many who at some "hard saying" refuse to walk with Him.
Thousands who have a keen appreciation of "loaves and fishes"
shrink from "leaving all" and following Jesus. A great concourse
is drawn and held spell-bound by a naive, graceful, eloquent,
artless preacher who uses "lilies," and the "grass of the field,"
and the "sower" of seed, and the "sparrow" in the air to enforce
his truth. But one may be interested, and yet not be saved.


In some people religion appeals to the aesthetic nature, and to
that only. They festoon the cross with flowers, but never think of
dying on it. They are charmed by Gothic churches filled with "dim,
religious light." The waves of music from the great; sounding
organ awe their souls and fill them with a pensiveness which they
mistake for repentance. Pointed arches, sculptured capitals,
fretted altars, swinging censers, burning candles, white-robed
choir-boys, errorless order in church service--these auxiliaries
influence them so strongly in their sense of the beautiful that
they think, "Surely I love God. Why, of course I love God." But to
love God involves something practical. It means something more
than mere profession. It means rugged self-denial, Spartan
heroism, perhaps the loss of an "arm" or the "plucking out of an
eye." Base must have been the soul which was not attracted by One
who "spake as never man spake"; low-minded the man who did not see
in Him imperishable beauty and refinement of soul; but ah!
discipleship means far more than that. Christ had flown up to
heaven. Who now will prove his love for Him by obeying His
commands? Who will tarry in Jerusalem awaiting the coming Spirit,
and then, the Comforter having come, be ready to "Go into all the
world, discipling all nations"? Answer: All who are truly children
of God. The preaching of sanctification is the touchstone by which
the genuineness of conversions can be tested. The truly living
"hunger and thirst after righteousness"; the dead do not "bother
their heads about a second blessing."


Let us illustrate: It was fifteen minutes until the schedule time
for the "Puritan" of the "Fall River Line" to leave her New York
pier. The evening was warm, and the usual crowd filled the decks.
Many had come on board to see their friends off for Newport, Bar
Harbor and "the Pier." Passengers and their friends sat in groups
and chatted, talked about the trip, the weather, the situation at
Santiago, the flowers they held, the concert by the orchestra. It
was impossible for an observer to determine just who were
passengers and held tickets, and who were merely bidding farewell
to their friends. Suddenly an officer in gold-braided cap and blue
uniform appeared, and cried out with an authoritative voice and a
look of command, "All ashore who are going ashore! All ashore who
are going ashore!" Immediately there were hasty hand-clasps and
hasty good-byes, and a large part of the company marched quickly
down the stairs and across the gang-plank. Those who were left
held tickets and were "going through."


In a revival of religion it is often a matter of considerable
difficulty to determine the genuinely converted. In the confusion
of large altar services, and the crush of great congregations, who
are the saved? No man can tell. Many are moved by sympathy for
their friends. Others are charmed by the congregational singing
and the music of the organ. Many see that the revival is bound to
go, and, like Pliable, they are swept along for a time with it.
But there appears in this mixed company a man with the stamp of
divine authority upon his brow, the gold braid of full salvation
on his helmet, the dialect of Canaan on his tongue and the air of
official appointment about his person: "Without holiness no man
shall see the Lord! All ashore who are going ashore! All ashore
who are going ashore!" Immediately "there is no small stir." Some
leave the boat by way of the gang-plank carping at the words of
the officer and arguing as they go; some in great haste vault the
balustrades and railings and leap for the pier; still others climb
out the windows of staterooms and run screaming toward the nearest
ladder which will enable them to leave the "good ship Zion."
Gradually quiet is restored. The company is smaller, and of whom
is it composed? The genuinely converted. What are they doing? They
are asking the nearest officer how soon the boat leaves for New
England. "When can I be sanctified wholly? O, pray for me! I want
the blessing now!" They are "going through."




When Christ opens His mouth, God bows down His ear. "I know that
thou hearest me always." The disciples did not wait long until
they were baptized with the Holy Ghost. Christ's prayer found
audience and the answer was not long delayed.


The baptism with the Spirit which was administered to the one
hundred and twenty effected their sanctification. The cleansing of
their hearts was one of the effects of the out-pouring of the
Spirit. Sanctification and the baptism with the Spirit are
therefore coetaneous--they take place at the same time.


This is proven by an inspired statement made by Peter. Referring
to the Gentiles he says that God "put no difference between them"
and us Jews who were sanctified at Pentecost, "purifying their

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