The Glorious Law-Giver, and the Obedient Subject: Being the Substance of a Sermon, on the Duty of All Believers to Commemorate the Death of the Redeemer, in the Lord's Supper. Intending to Set Forth the Authority of Christ

In Short

This work is a nineteenth-century sermon that serves as a theological guide to the ordinance of the Lord’s Supper. It outlines the authority of Christ as King and Law-Giver, situating the sacrament within a broader framework of spiritual duties, including prayer, singing, and baptism. By addressing the hesitations of sincere believers who feel unworthy, the text provides a pastoral defense of why such individuals are, in fact, the only ones qualified to participate. It remains a notable example of the earnest, devotional rhetoric common to English Dissenting chapels of the era.

The Story

The progression of this argument begins with the foundational identity of Christ as the Mediator of a better Testament. He is presented in the three-fold office of Prophet, Priest, and King. As Prophet, he illuminates the mind; as Priest, he offers his own person as the ultimate sacrifice, interceding for the elect; and as King, he exercises authority over the hearts of his subjects. This kingly authority is the pivot upon which the entire discourse turns, as the author establishes that Christ, having purchased his people, now issues laws for their conduct and comfort.

From this theological foundation, the sermon moves to the practical "ordinances" of the Church. These are not arbitrary rules, but pleasant duties designed to foster spiritual life. The author lists the ministry of the Word, public and private prayer, godly conversation, and the singing of hymns as essential expressions of faith. He particularly emphasizes the necessity of baptism as a preparatory act of worship, which naturally precedes the Lord’s Supper.

The heart of the work focuses on the Lord’s Supper itself. The author moves through a detailed description of its nature—not as a literal transformation, but as a symbolic feast representing the body and blood of the Redeemer. He provides a vivid, almost visceral, account of the suffering and crucifixion of Jesus, intending to stir the reader’s emotions and secure their devotion. He argues that this ordinance is a clear, enduring command meant to be observed until Christ returns.

Having established the "what," the author addresses the "who." He defines the right to partake of the sacrament as belonging exclusively to the "children of God." He provides a checklist for the reader to identify this status: evidence of the new birth, spiritual light, hunger for Christ, and the internal witness of the Spirit. He explicitly excludes the hypocrite and the unbeliever, not to discourage the honest seeker, but to protect the sanctity of the table.

Finally, the sermon confronts the objections of the "feeble-minded"—those who feel too sinful or too spiritually immature to partake. The author systematically dismantles the notion that one must reach a certain level of perfection before approaching the table. He frames the sense of unworthiness as a potential form of pride, suggesting that if one were truly "fit," they would have no need of a Savior. He concludes by clarifying the misunderstood passage in Corinthians regarding "eating and drinking damnation," arguing that it refers to the disorderly conduct of those who treat the sacrament with gluttony or indifference, rather than the humble, contrite heart of a believer. The work ends with a call to approach the table with confidence, seeing the ordinance as a means of grace rather than a test of personal merit.

How It Unfolds

The three-fold office The argument opens by establishing Christ’s eternal role as Prophet, Priest, and King. By framing Jesus as the ultimate Law-Giver, the author asserts that all subsequent ordinances are expressions of his sovereign love and authority.

The duties of the faithful The discourse transitions to the external requirements of the faith, such as prayer and singing. The author offers practical, albeit rigid, advice on how these should be performed, emphasizing brevity and sincerity to ensure that "the externals of Religion" remain pleasant.

The anatomy of the ordinance The narrative shifts to the Lord's Supper, providing a graphic and emotional description of the crucifixion to justify the practice. He insists that this act is a spiritual necessity, designed to bring the believer into a sensory communion with the sacrifice of their Redeemer.

The search for the worthy The author turns his attention to the qualifications of the partaker, defining the "children of God" through their spiritual experiences. He argues that those who are "born again" possess an inherent right to the table, despite their acknowledged failings.

Resolving the doubter’s fear The final section tackles the anxieties of those who believe they are too unworthy to participate. By reinterpreting the threat of "damnation" as a warning against irreverence rather than a barrier to the humble, the author invites the reader to set aside their fears and embrace the feast.

The People

The central figure is the Redeemer, portrayed as the glorious King of Zion. He is the source of all authority, the provider of the "best robe" of righteousness, and the suffering victim whose death provides the substance of the ordinance. He wants only the obedience of his subjects and the remembrance of his sacrifice.

The Believer is the primary intended audience—a person who is often plagued by "gloomy fears" and a sense of profound inadequacy. They want to be faithful, yet they are constantly hindered by their own perceived "evils" and a lack of full assurance of their salvation. Through the course of the sermon, they are encouraged to shift their gaze from their own "fitness" to the sufficiency of the Redeemer's work.

The Objector appears as a foil to the true believer. This is the person who lingers at the threshold of the church, hindered by "legal notions" or the fear of eating and drinking their own condemnation. They are trapped by their own intellectualizing, believing they must wait until they are "better" or have reached a state of "full assurance." The author’s goal is to transform this objector into a participant by correcting their theology of grace.

The Ministers are addressed as secondary figures, tasked with the heavy responsibility of correctly administering these ordinances. They are urged to be "faithful and experimental," ensuring that they do not wound the feelings of the flock with excessive length in their prayers or overly rigid demands.

In Its Own Voice

“I remark, then, that there are certain external Laws, which Jesus has issued out, and ought to be attended to; not one of them is grievous; but this yoke is easy, and this burden is light.”

The author introduces the idea that the ordinances of the church are intended to be a source of comfort rather than a heavy obligation for the believer.

“The Lord’s Supper ought always to follow Baptism—the one is preparatory to the other, and none but those who submit to the one, ought to be admitted to the other.”

This line establishes the author's insistence on a specific, chronological order of religious observance as a sign of obedience to the Law-Giver.

“All the fitness he requireth, is to feel your need of him.”

In a concluding poetic flourish, the author summarizes his central argument that spiritual poverty, rather than spiritual perfection, is the only valid qualification for participating in the Lord's Supper.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an exploration of the relationship between divine authority and human comfort. It addresses the fundamental tension between the feeling of personal unworthiness and the command to participate in a communal act of faith. The author argues that religious ordinances are not hoops to be jumped through to earn favor, but are instead "food for an immortal mind," provided by a loving Father for the nourishment of his children. The book questions what it means to be a "subject" of Christ, concluding that obedience is not a cold, legalistic requirement, but a dynamic, love-driven response to the sacrifice of the Redeemer.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of Dissenting theology or the development of nineteenth-century devotional writing will find this a fascinating, if sometimes demanding, artifact. It offers a clear, unvarnished look at the internal landscape of an era where religious life was defined by the tension between strict adherence to "ordinances" and the desire for emotional assurance.

The reading experience is intense and focused. The author’s prose is highly oratorical, packed with scriptural allusions and a vivid, almost startling level of detail regarding the physical sufferings of Christ. This emotional fervor is balanced by his surprisingly practical, sometimes crusty, advice on how to conduct a prayer meeting or manage a family's evening devotions.

The book is not without its difficulties. The prose is dense, reflecting the stylistic habits of its period, and the author’s tone can feel quite severe when he turns his attention to "Antinomians" or those he deems unworthy. A modern reader must navigate the period-specific moralizing and the author’s blunt dismissal of other religious traditions. However, for those who appreciate the cadence of a nineteenth-century pulpit and a deep dive into the logic of grace, this work remains a potent, if challenging, historical record of a faith that sought to find comfort in the smallest details of obedience.