J.C. Ryle

It is the beginning of all true religion to know ourselves. You will never value the Gospel till you know what you are by nature, and what you deserve. I ask you, in all affection, to read carefully what I am going to say about the question,—“What is man?”

I am going to tell you the simple, naked truth. I am not going to talk nonsense, as some do, about the dignity and goodness of human nature. I will not pay compliments to human nature which it does not deserve. Life is too short and uncertain for such flattery. Let us go to the Bible and to facts.

Now, what is man? There is one broad, sweeping answer, which takes in the whole human race,—man is a sinful being. All children of Adam born into the world, whatever be their name or nation, are corrupt, wicked and defiled in the sight of God. Their thoughts. words, ways, and actions are all more or less defective and imperfect.

The evidence of the Bible on this point is clear and unmistakable.—“The imagination of man’s heart is evil from his youth.” “There is not a just man upon earth that doeth good and sinneth not.” “The heart of the sons of men is full of evil.” “There is none that doeth good, no, not one.” “All have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.” (Gen. viii. 21; Eccles. viii. 20; ix. 3; Ps. xiv. 3; Rom. iii. 23).

The evidence of facts is exactly in keeping with that of the Bible. Man always has been, and always is by nature, wicked. By bloodshed, or violence, or impurity, or robbery;—by theft, or lying, or deceit, or fraud;—by pride, or selfishness, or covetousness, or passion, or evil temper, or malice,—by one or other of these marks the true character of man is continually showing itself all over the world. As it was in the beginning, so it is now.

Is there no country on the face of the globe where sin does not reign? Is there no happy valley,—no secluded island, where innocence is to be found? Is there no place on earth where, far away from civilization, and commerce, and money, and gunpowder, and luxury, and books, morality and purity flourish?—No, reader, there is none! Look over all the voyages and travels you can lay your hands on, from Columbus down to Cook, and you will see the truth of what I am asserting. The most solitary islands of the Pacific Ocean,—islands cut off from all the rest of the world,—islands where people were alike ignorant of Rome and Paris, London and Jerusalem,—these islands have been found full of impurity, cruelty, and idolatry. The footprints of the devil have been traced in every shore. Whatever else savages have been found ignorant of, they have never been found ignorant of sin.

But are there no men and women in the world who are free from this corruption of nature? Have there not been high and exalted souls, who have every now and then lived faultless lives? Have there not been some, if it be only a few, who have done all that God required, and thus proved that sinless perfection is a possibility?—No, reader, there have been none! Look over all the biographies and lives of the holiest Christians. Mark how the brightest and best of Christ’s people have always had the deepest sense of their own defectiveness and corruption. They groan, they mourn, they sigh, they weep over their own shortcomings. It is one of the common grounds on which they meet. Patriarchs and Apostles, Fathers and Reformers, Episcopalians and Presbyterians, Luther and Calvin, Knox and Bradford, Rutherford and Bishop Hall, Wesley and Whitefield, Martin and M’Cheyne,—all are alike agreed in feeling their own sinfulness. The more light they have, the more humble and self-abased they seem to be. The more holy they are, the more they seem to feel their own unworthiness, and to glory, not in themselves, but in Christ.

Now, what does all this tend to prove? To my eyes it seems to prove that human nature is so tainted and corrupt, that, left to himself, no man could be saved. Man’s case appears to be a hopeless one without a Saviour,—and that a mighty Saviour too. There must be a Mediator, and atonement, an Advocate, to make such poor sinful beings as we are acceptable with God:—and I find what we want nowhere excepting in Jesus Christ.

Heaven for man without a mighty Redeemer,—peace with God for man without a mighty Intercessor,—eternal life for man without an eternal Saviour,—in one word, Salvation without Christ,—all alike appear to me utter impossibilities.

Reader, I lay these things before you, and ask you to consider them. I know it is one of the hardest things in the world to realize the sinfulness of sin. To say we are all sinners is one thing; to have an idea what sin must be in the sight of God is quite another. Sin is too much part of ourselves to allow us to see it as it is. We do not feel our own moral deformity. We are like those animals in creation which are vile and loathsome to our senses, but are not so to themselves, nor yet to one another. Their loathsomeness is their nature, and they do not perceive it. Our corruption is part and parcel of ourselves, and at best we have but a feeble comprehension of its intensity.

Now, consider what I have been telling you. Think quietly and calmly about it. The Lord grant you may know your own sinfulness and guilt. Once know what you really are, and you will never rest till you are a saved soul.