Chapter XXXIV (34) · Young Sabbath-keepers
August 22, 1857, at the House of Prayer in Monterey, I was shown that many have not yet heard the voice of Jesus, and the saving message has not taken hold of the soul, and worked a reformation in the life. p. 250, Para. 3, [2SG].
Many of the young, I saw, have not the Spirit of Jesus. The love of God is not in their hearts, therefore all the natural besetments hold the victory instead of the Spirit of God and salvation. p. 251, Para. 1, [2SG].
Those who really possess the religion of Jesus, will not be ashamed nor afraid to bear the cross before those who have more experience than they have. They will, if they earnestly long to be right, desire all the help from older Christians they can get. Gladly will they be helped by them; and a heart that is warmed by love to God will not be hindered by trifles in the Christian course. They will talk out what the Spirit of God works in. They will sing it out, pray it out. It is the lack of religion, lack of holy living that makes the young backward. Their life condemns them. They know they do not live as Christians should, therefore they have not confidence toward God, or before the church. p. 251, Para. 2, [2SG].
Why the young feel more liberty when the older ones are absent, is, they are with those of their kind. Each think they are as good as the other. All fail of the mark, but measure themselves by themselves, and compare themselves among themselves, and have neglected the only perfect and true standard. Jesus is the true pattern. His selfsacrificing life is our example. p. 251, Para. 3, [2SG].
I saw how little the pattern was studied. How little exalted before them. How little do the young suffer, or deny self, for their religion. To sacrifice is scarcely thought of among them. They entirely fail of imitating the pattern in this respect. I saw that this was the language of their lives, Self must be gratified, pride must be indulged. They forget the Man of sorrows, who was acquainted with grief. The sufferings of Jesus in Gethsemane, his sweating as it were great drops of blood in the garden, the platted crown of thorns that pierced his