Slave To Free

 1 John 4:1-6


1 Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits, whether they are of God; because many false prophets have gone out into the world. 2 By this you know the Spirit of God: Every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is of God, 3 and every spirit that does not confess that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is not of God. And this is the spirit of the Antichrist, which you have heard was coming, and is now already in the world.

4 You are of God, little children, and have overcome them, because He who is in you is greater than he who is in the world. 5 They are of the world. Therefore they speak as of the world, and the world hears them. 6 We are of God. He who knows God hears us; he who is not of God does not hear us. By this we know the spirit of truth and the spirit of error.

 

John Newton’s mother died when he was a small boy, and his father was a sea captain. Newton also went to sea, and fell into the most prodigal and profligate life. After being impressed into the British navy, he became a deserter. He eventually sold himself to a slave trader in Africa and fell as low as a man could descend. Then he found the incomparable grace of God in Christ Jesus. Here is a poem that he wrote of his marvelous conversion:

 

 

In evil long I took delight,

Unawed by shame or fear;

Till a new object struck my sight,

And stopped my wild career.

 

I saw one hanging on a tree

In agony and blood;

He fixed His languid eyes on me

As near His cross I stood.

 

Sure, never to my latest breath,

Can I forget that look:

It seemed to charge me with His death,

Though not a word He spoke.

 

My conscience felt and owned the guilt,

And plunged me in despair;

I saw my sins His blood had spilt

And helped to nail Him there.

 

Alas! I knew not what I did,

But now my tears are vain:

Where shall my trembling soul be hid?

For I the Lord have slain!

 

A second look He gave, which said,

I freely all forgive:

This blood is for thy ransom paid,

I die that though mayst live.

Thus, while His death my sin displays

In all its blackest hue;

Such is the mystery of grace,

It seals my pardon too.

 

With pleasing grief and mournful joy,

My spirit now is filled;

That I should such a life destroy,

Yet live by Him I killed.





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