Life is precious. And even in its humblest form, it beats death every time. This is gloriously true in spiritual things! Better to be the least in the kingdom of heaven than the greatest outside of it. The smallest spark of grace outshines the most impressive display of unregenerate human nature. Where the Holy Spirit implants divine life in the soul, there is a precious deposit that all the refinements of education cannot equal.

The thief on the cross excels Caesar on his throne! Lazarus among the dogs is better than Cicero among the senators. The simplest Christian, who can barely read, is superior in God's sight to Plato himself. Life is the badge of nobility in the spiritual realm. Without it, people are just specimens of the same lifeless material—some polished, some rough—but all needing to be quickened, for they are dead in trespasses and sins.

A living, loving gospel sermon, however simple and uncouth in style, is worth more than the finest discourse devoid of unction and power. A living dog keeps better watch than a dead lion—and is of more service to his master! Just so, the poorest spiritual preacher is infinitely to be preferred to the exquisite orator who has nothing but clever words and empty sound.

The same holds true of our prayers and worship. When the Holy Spirit quickens them, they are acceptable to God through Jesus Christ, even if we think them worthless. But our grand performances? When our hearts are absent, they're nothing but dead lions—mere carrion in the sight of the living God.

O for living groans, living sighs, living despondencies, rather than lifeless songs and dead calms! Better anything than death! Even the snarlings of the dog of hell will at least keep us awake. But dead faith? Dead profession? What greater curses can a man have?

Quicken us! Quicken us, O Lord!