The Heritage of Holiness

By Harry E. Jessop

Chapter 5

The Destruction Of Sin And The Release Of Self

At this point it becomes necessary to recognize a vital distinction.

Again and again we have been met with this seemingly perplexing question: When sin is destroyed, what happens to self? Are sin and self to be regarded as one and the same? Is self destroyed in entire sanctification, or must it be crucified continually?

Three scripture passages will help us here:

"Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin. For he that is dead is freed from sin" (Rom. 6:8, 7).

"I therefore so run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, not as one that beateth the air: but I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection: lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway" (I Cor. 9:26, 27).

"Then said Jesus unto his disciples, If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me" (Matt. 16:24).

The question is comprehensive. It expresses a mental difficulty which seems to have presented itself to other minds also.

One possible reason for the confusion is the frequent almost indiscriminate use, among those not sufficiently discerning, of the words sin and self.

Wherever else the phraseology may be cloudy, God's Word is clear. Therefore whatever fog there may be with regard to this teaching arises, not from the Bible, but from human misconceptions as to what the Bible teaches.

What it teaches on the subject before us may be stated thus:

1. For the body of sin, that is, the totality of the sin principle within the believing soul, God has provided a complete destruction through our identification with Christ in His work on Calvary. "Our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed" (Rom. 6: 6).

2. For my body, that is, the human body of flesh and blood which is part of my redeemed humanity, the house of my essential personality, God has ordained a wise and judicious subjection. "I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection" (I Cor. 9:27).

3. For my self, that personal entity to which I refer as I and me, God has provided and offers to perform a work of complete cleansing. "The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us" (I John 1: 7).

While on God's part there is the work of cleansing, on our part He calls for a rigorous self-denial. "If any man will come after me, let him deny himself" (Matt. 16: 24).

Three simple thoughts will thus take us right into the heart of our subject:

I. The Divine Distinction, between sin and self.

II. The Divine Destruction, of sin from self.

III. The Divine Direction, concerning self when sin has been destroyed.

I. The Distinction Recognized Throughout the Scriptures this distinction between the fact of sin and our essential selfhood is unmistakably real. "That the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin" (Rom. 6: 6).

"It is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me" (Rom. 7: 20).

That same distinction is seen with regard to Our essential selfhood and the indwelling

Christ. "I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me" (Gal. 2:20).

Whether therefore it concerns sin on the one hand or Christ on the other, the relationship to me is the same. My selfhood is a separate entity in which either of these may nestle, but of which neither is an essential part.

The personality of man and the pollution of sin are entirely different and will ever remain so. When the race was created, the me existed before sin that dwelleth in me. Man had a self before he became selfish. He would never have become selfish but for the pollution of sin.

"The Lord God . . . . breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul" (Gen. 2:7).

A living soul. A distinct entity. A conscious selfhood. That selfhood could fraternize with Deity, enter into intimate relationships with other humans, or sell itself to Satan and thus become contaminated with sin.

Every personal being has of necessity a selfhood which can never be shed. Even God himself could not exist without a self. So also our Lord Jesus had a selfhood but knew no sin.

My self is that which distinguishes me from God on the one hand, the devil on the other, and from every other human with whom I associate.

Sin, taking possession of me, wrapped itself in me; clothed itself with my personality; warped, twisted, controlled, and compelled me, until my true self was no longer free, but became blighted, blasted, and fettered by something within me which was not according to God's original plan. It was not part of me, and consequently does not belong to me.

Self has come to me from the hand of God by reason of a benevolent creation, but sin has come to me from the devil by reason of the fall. Sin has invaded self and made me sinful and therefore selfish.

It is Satan's purpose to make men believe that what he has injected can never be extracted as long as they live. The Bible, however, has a different story to tell.

II. The Destruction Wrought

The separation of sin from self.

But is this possible? someone asks. We reply with another question, Why not? Has Satan put into man more than an almighty God can take out?

"That the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin," surely means something. Is it not possible that God means what He says?

There is evidently a recognition of a distinction between the body of sin and we who are no longer to serve sin.

"The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin," says John (I John 1: 7). Does not that suggest that the sin in us may be cleansed away and the us that was previously sinful may remain without it?

Some years ago we sat in an English home in a Yorkshire woolen district and listened to the interesting conversation of a local mill worker.

"Did you ever hear of 'mungo'?" said he.

"Yes," I replied, "I have seen the word on some of the office windows: John Jones, Rag and Mungo Merchants; but I have no idea what mungo is."

"Did you ever hear of carbonizing?" he asked.

"No!" I replied, "I don't think I have. What is it?"

"Well," said he, "I am a carbonizer; I make mungo; and I think you might be interested in the process. You have seen the loads of rags that are brought into the town and taken to the mills. They are brought in for the making of mungo, and the mungo is mixed with the new wool and woven into cloth. It is more than likely that part of the suit you are wearing has been worn by someone else, in fact, perhaps by more people than you would like to think about.

"The name and its origin may interest you. Its inventor was a broad-spoken Yorkshireman. When he was relating his discovery to a friend and suggesting the sinking of money to float the invention, his friend asked, 'But are you sure it will go?' To which, in his broad Yorkshire dialect, the inventor replied: 'Go? It mun go!' We would say, 'It must go!' The words 'mun-go,' if words they could be called, were run into one, and the manufactured product became known as mun go."

Then my friend went on: "I think you will be interested in the carbonizing process. These old clothes are taken into the carbonizing room, where, by a twofold process of heat and vitriol, every shred of cotton is destroyed and every bit of wool is purified and remains. No matter how firmly the cotton is woven into the texture the process deals with it, but leaves the rest of the garment, all wool. This is then torn up and mixed with new material for weaving into new cloth.

"We who work in this process," said he, "dare not wear a bit of cotton. If a man wore a cotton suit when he went in, he would come out of the carbonizing chamber without it; whereas, if he wore a suit which was a mixture of wool and cotton, every shred of cotton would have been destroyed and the fabric remaining would be all wool."

Naturally I was interested, and hardly realized I was ejaculating until my own "Hallelujah" made me conscious of it.

"Why 'Hallelujah'?" asked my friend.

"Because," said I, "I have been through the process. They told me that my natural selfhood and indwelling sin were so closely woven together that they could never be separated as long as I lived. But God has devised a method whereby the separation can be made, and He has done it for me. The cotton has been dealt with, and the purified humanity is all wool."

Did not God say through Ezekiel: "From all your filthiness . . . . will I cleanse you" (Ezekiel 36: 25)? Destroying the filthiness, He leaves a cleansed you.

Said John the Baptist, referring to Jesus: "He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost, and with fire" (Matt. 3: 11). That you is not destroyed by the fiery baptism, but purified and made fit for holy service.

By His cleansing blood and purifying flame our nature is to be so throughly purged, our spirits so adjusted, our hearts so graciously attuned that the essential self is gloriously released -set free to do the will of God.

III. The Direction Given

Here, then, is the final question: What about self when sin has been destroyed?

We shall do well to remember that, although cleansed and made inwardly pure, divinely indwelt and kept clean, we have not been dehumanized; neither has our essential ego been in any way interfered with.

That which is back of all else in our nature, the permanent substance or agent behind the conscious "I," "me," "my" -- a released selfhood -- has been set free to do the will of God. Every fundamental urge within the nature remains the same, except that the pollution acquired is swept away. Our natural idiosyncrasies still characterize us, and it is upon these that worldly influences and satanic powers focus their attacks.

At no stage of our spiritual experience are we ever changed from the human pattern on the basis of which God has made us. The personnel of the apostolic group will help us here.

"And he ordained twelve, that they should be with him, and that he might send them forth to preach, and to have power to heal sickness, and to cast out devils: and Simon he surnamed Peter [lit., a piece of rock]; and James the son of Zebedee, and John the brother of James; and he surnamed them Boanerges, which is, The sons of thunder: and Andrew, and Philip, and Bartholomew, and Matthew, and Thomas, and James the son of Alphaeus, and Thaddaeus, and Simon the Canaanite, and Judas Iscariot" (Mark 3:14-19).

One of the outstanding things about that group is the distinctive, individual identity of its members. We fellowship with them until we feel that we know them and would recognize them if we met them. There would be no mistake in identifying Peter. The same might be said of the rest of the group.

Fellowship with Jesus helped and refined these men. The experience of Pentecost purged and empowered them. The fires of persecution left their mark upon them. Yet back of all else was that individuality, that selfhood, each peculiarly his own, which nothing could destroy. Into its makeup had gone many contributing factors: heredity, environment, culture, and divine grace, all filling out the pattern in so far as men could work it out.

Entire sanctification is a distinct personality release which now becomes our responsibility as liberated souls.

In meeting that responsibility, if God is to be glorified in our lives, four things at least must be observed:

1. There must be a life of rigorous self-denial, and of unabated self-mastery'.

"If any man will come after me, let him deny himself." (Read Matthew 16:21-26.) This is not a meaningless platitude; it is a definite demand which challenges all there is in the redeemed manhood of the best among us.

"I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection: lest by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway." (Read I Cor. 9:24-27.) No man can afford to trifle with his bodily appetites. On this ground giants have been laid low.

2. Further, there must be a life of constant self-abasement.

He whom we own as Lord is declared to have made himself of no reputation, even to the willingness to die on a cross. That same mind is to be in us (Phil. 2:5-8).

3. Also, there must be a life of continual self-forgetfulness.

"We that are strong" are exhorted to "bear the infirmities of the weak, and not to please ourselves" (Rom. 5:1-3).

4. And finally, although these four things are far from final, there must be a life of complete self-renunciation.

Even our Lord declared: "I can do nothing of myself" (John 8:28).

This, then, is to be our daily concern: Knowing that by reason of our faith union with Jesus on Calvary's cross, the body of sin has been destroyed, we are to be ever yielding ourselves to God as those who are alive from the dead and our members as instruments of righteousness unto Him (Romans 6).