Were there but such clear and deep impressions upon our own souls of those glorious things which we daily preach, oh what a change would it make in our sermons, and in our private course of life!

Oh what a miserable thing it is to the Church and to themselves, that men must preach of heaven and hell, before they soundly believe that there are such things, or have felt the weight of the doctrines which they preach!

It would amaze a sensible man to think what matters we preach and talk of; what it is for the soul to pass out of this flesh, and appear before a righteous God, and enter upon unchangeable joy or unchangeable torment!

Oh, with what amazing thoughts do dying men apprehend these things! How should such matters be preached and discoursed of!

Oh the gravity, the seriousness, the incessant diligence, which these things require!

I know not what others think of them; but for my part, I am ashamed of my stupidity, and wonder at myself that I deal not with my own and others’ souls, as one that looks for the great day of the Lord; and that I can have room for almost any other thoughts or words; and that such astonishing matters do not wholly absorb my mind.

I marvel how I can preach of them slightly and coldly, and how I can let men alone in their sins, and that I do not go to them, and beseech them, for the Lord’s sake, to repent, however they may take it, and whatever pains or trouble it may cost me! I seldom come out of the pulpit, but my conscience smiteth me that I have been no more serious and fervent in such a case. It accuseth me not so much for want of ornaments or elegancy, nor for letting fall an unhandsome word; but it asketh me,

‘How couldst thou speak of life and death with such a heart? How couldst thou preach of heaven and hell in such a careless, sleepy manner? Dost thou believe what thou sayest? Art thou in earnest or in jest? How canst thou tell people that sin is such a thing, and that so much misery is upon them and before them, and be no more affected with it? Shouldst thou not weep over such a people, and should not thy tears interrupt thy words? Shouldst not thou cry aloud and show them their transgressions, and entreat and beseech them as for life and death?’

Truly, this is the peal that conscience doth ring in my ears, and yet my drowsy soul will not be awakened.

—Richard Baxter, The Reformed Pastor (Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth, 1656/1974), 203-204.

Read the rest of this magnificent work, full of zeal, passion and evangelistic fervor, here. I am convinced that every Christian believer that has a desire and calling to go into the ministry in any manner of service to God should and must read this book at least once.

Dear Mr. Baxter says it so plainly! How ashamed am I of my stupidity, of my infidelity! Is this the extents of a feeling heart for the fates of others? O, that we may repent from such practical atheism and apathy!