Sinclair Ferguson encourages us to get serious about sin:

Paul’s exposition [Colossians] provides us with practical guidance for mortifying sin. . . .
   1. Learn to admit sin for what it really is. Call a spade a spade—call it “fornication” (v.5), not “I’m being tempted a little”; call it “uncleanness” (v. 5), not “I’m struggling with my thought life”; call it “covetousness, which is idolatry” (v. 5), not “I think I need to order my priorities a bit better.” . . .
   2. See sin for what it really is in God’s presence. “Because of these the wrath of God is coming” (3:6). . . . See the true nature of sin in light of its punishment. . . . Take a heaven’s-eye view of sin and feel the shame of that in which you once walked (3:7; cf. 6:21).
   3. Recognize the inconsistency of your sin. You have put off the “old man,” and have put on the “new man” (3:9–10). . . . New people live new lives. Anything less is a contradiction of who we are “in Christ.”
   4. Put sin to death (v. 5). It is a “simple” as that. You cannot “mortify” sin without the pain of the kill. There is no other way!
   But notice that Paul sets this in a very important broader context. The negative task of putting sin to death will not be accomplished in isolation from the positive call of the gospel to “put on” the Lord Jesus Christ (Rom. 13:14).
   Paul spells this out in Colossians 3:12–17. Sweeping the house clean simply leaves us open to further invasion of sin. But when we understand the “glorious exchange” principle of the gospel of grace, then we begin to make some real advances in holiness. Sinful desires and habits not only must be rejected but exchanged for Christ-like graces (3:12) and actions (3:13). As we are clothed in Christ’s character and His graces are held together by love (v. 14), not only in our private lives but also in the church fellowship (vv. 12–16), Christ’s name and glory will be manifested and exalted among us (3:17).

—Sinclair Ferguson, In Christ Alone: Living the Gospel Centered Life (Reformation Trust, 2007), 220–221.

Sinclair Ferguson on persecution and suffering:

In God’s workshop in this world, suffering is the raw material out of which glory is forged (1 Peter 1:7; 4:12–13). That is standard New Testament teaching. But there is a subtle development of it in Peter: “If you are reproached for the name of Christ, blessed are you, for the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you” (1 Peter 4:14, emphasis added).
   The prospect of future glory has been a great consolation to believers throughout the ages. But Peter is saying more than that. Glory belongs not only to the “there and then”; it is part of the “here and now” of suffering. The Spirit who uses our sufferings to produce glory gives advance indications of the final product in the lives of believers.
   We get a glimpse of that sometimes in older Christians who have seen trials; we see that there is a grace in them that eludes definition. It is etched into their lives from beyond. A touch of the glory of the future world seems already to clothe them in the present one.
   Peter’s bottom line is this: don’t be surprised by suffering (1 Peter 4:12).
   But how can twenty-first-century Christians be un-surprised in times of suffering? We can only do so by being delivered from a faulty understanding of what it means to be a Christian. Jesus was crucified by this world. To become a Christian means by definition to follow a cross-bearing Savior and Lord. it means to be identified with Him in such a way that opposition to Him will inevitably touch us.
   Paul said that he bore in his body the marks of Jesus (Gal. 5:16). So perhaps we should ask:

Hast thou no scar?
No hidden scar on foot, or side, or hand?
I hear thee sung as mighty in the land;
I hear them hail thy bright, ascendant star.
Hast thou no scar?

Hast thou no wound?
Yet, I was wounded by the archers, spent.
Leaned me against the tree to die, and rent
By ravening wolves that compassed Me, I swooned:
Hast thou no wound?

No wound, no scar?
Yet as the Master shall the servant be,
And pierced are the feet that follow Me.
But thine are whole. Can he have followed far
Who hast no wound or scar?*

   Are you a marked man or woman?

—Sinclair Ferguson, In Christ Alone: Living the Gospel Centered Life (Reformation Trust, 2007), 203–204.

*Amy Carmichael

James 5:14–18:

14 Is anyone among you sick? Let him call for the elders of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord. 15 And the prayer of faith will save the one who is sick, and the Lord will raise him up. And if he has committed sins, he will be forgiven. 16 Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working. 17 Elijah was a man with a nature like ours, and he prayed fervently that it might not rain, and for three years and six months it did not rain on the earth. 18 Then he prayed again, and heaven gave rain, and the earth bore its fruit.

Sinclair Ferguson on “the prayer of faith”:

. . . in the past century and a half, much has been written and said particularly about “the prayer of faith.” The focus has been on mountain-moving prayer by which we simply “claim” things from God with confidence that we will receive them because we believe that He will give them.
   But what exactly is the prayer of faith?

Association with the Dramatic

Interestingly, it is in the letter of James (who has so much to say about works) that the term occurs. It climaxes the marvelous teaching on prayer that punctuates the entire letter (see 1:5–8; 4:2–3; 5:13–18). . . .
   Elijah’s praying is used as an example not because it produce miracle-like effects but because it gives us one of the clearest of all illustrations of what it means for anyone to pray with faith: it is believing God’s revealed Word, taking hold of His covenant commitment to it, and asking Him to keep it.

The Prayer of a Righteous Person

Shutting up the heavens was not, after all, a novel idea that originated in the fertile mind of Elijah. In fact, it was the fulfillment of the promised curse of the covenant Lord: “If you do not obey the Lord your God . . . these curses will come upon you. . . . The sky over your head will be bronze, the ground beneath you iron. The Lord will turn the rain of your country into dust and powder” (Deut. 28:15, 22–24, NIV). . . .
   This, then, is the prayer of faith: to ask God to accomplish what He has promised in His Word. That promise is the only ground for our confidence in asking. Such confidence in not “worked up” from within our emotional life; rather, it is given and supported by what God has said in Scripture.
   Truly “Righteous” men and women of faith know the value of their heavenly Father’s promises. They go to Him, as children do to a loving human father. They know that if they can say to an earthly father, “But, father, you promised . . . ,” they can both persist in asking and be confident that he will keep his word. How much more our heavenly Father, who has given His Son for our salvation! We have no other grounds of confidence that He hears our prayers, we need none.

Legitimate Prayer

. . . Some Christians find this disappointing. It seems to remove the mystique from the prayer of faith. Are we not tying down our faith to ask only for what God already had promised? But such disappointment reveals a spiritual malaise: would we rather devise our own spirituality (preferably spectacular) than God’s (frequently modest)?
   The struggles we sometimes experience in prayer, then, are often part of the process by which God gradually brings us to ask for only what He has promised to give, the struggle is not our wrestling to bring him to give us what we desire, but our wrestling with His Word until we are illuminated and subdued by it, saying, “Not my will, but Your will be done.” Then, as Calvin again says, we learn “not to ask for more that God allows.”
   This is why true prayer can never be divorced from real holiness. The prayer of faith can be made only be the “righteous” man whose life is being more and more aligned with the covenant grace and purposes of God. In the realm of prayer, too (since it is a microcosm of the whole of the Christian life), faith (prayer to the covenant Lord) without works (obedience to the covenant Lord) is dead.

—Sinclair Ferguson, In Christ Alone: Living the Gospel Centered Life (Reformation Trust, 2007), 145–147.

Sinclair Ferguson laments the desire of many for direct revelation from God:

Why, then, should Christians today—by contrast with their fathers—be so thirsty to experience immediate personal revelation from God (“God told me . . .”) when His desire for us is the ongoing work of the Spirit opening up our understanding through mediated revelation of the New Testament?
   There seem to be three reasons:
   1. It may appear to be more exciting, more obviously supernatural, to have direct revelation rather than Bible revelation. It seems to many people to be more “spiritual,” more “divine,” more “personal.”
   2. To many people, it feels much more convincing to be able to say, “God told me . . .” than to say, “The Bible tells me. . . .”
   3. Direct revelation makes it unnecessary to engage in painstaking Bible study and careful consideration of Christian doctrine in order to know the will of God. By comparison with immediate revelation, Bible study seems—to be frank—boring. Although rarely said, underlying all of this is a sinister thought: the Bible is not very clear. By contrast, it is assumed that direct revelation cannot possibly be misunderstood.

—Sinclair Ferguson, In Christ Alone: Living the Gospel Centered Life (Reformation Trust, 2007), 107.

While I agree that all three of Ferguson’s reasons are correct, I think the third is the most common, and perhaps the one that leads to rationalizing (I know, an odd word in this context) the first two. I believe most Christians are just too lazy to do the hard work of Bible study. The less apathetic among them fall back on the entirely sentimental reasons one and two.

All this is very sad, because those people are going to learn absolutely nothing from God, because God is not going to speak to them. Yes, my subjectively-guided friend, you read that right. If you claim that God has spoken to you, I don’t believe you. I don’t think you are lying (unless you say it on TBN; then I’m quite convinced you’re making it up); I just think you are deluded, mistaking the voices in your head for the Holy Spirit.

Conversely, if you are willing to buckle down and “be diligent to present yourself approved to God as a workman who does not need to be ashamed, accurately handling the word of truth,”* you will “[increase] in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man,”† and be “[sanctified] in the truth.”‡

Sinclair Ferguson on revival:

   In his Distinguishing Marks of a Work of the Spirit of God, Jonathan Edwards draws on 1 John 4 to show that all true works of God share several features:
   1. A high esteem for Christ.
   2. The overthrow of Satan’s Kingdom in our hearsts.
   3. A reverent view of, and close attention to, God’s Word in Scripture.
   4. The presence of the Spirit of truth convincing us of the reality of eternity and the depth of our sin and need.
   5. A deep love for both God and man.
   But what does this mean in real-life terms?

A Microcosmic View

. . . Many years ago, I witnessed revival in its most microcosmic form in a sudden, unexpected, and remarkable work of God’s Spirit on a friend. The work was so dramatic, the effect so radical, that news of it spread quickly to different parts of the country. . . . I [asked] my friend . . . What this remarkable experience had involved. The answer was illuminating. Five things seemed to have happened . . .
   1. A painful exposure of the particular sin of unbelief occurred. Listening to preaching was a staple of my friend’s spiritual diet, but what came with overpowering force was a sense that God’s Word had actually been despised inwardly. God’s own Word, preached in the power of the Spirit, stripped away the mask of inner pride and outward reputation for spirituality. There was a fearful exposure to sin.
   2. A powerful desire arose to be free from all sin. A new affection came, as if unbidden, into the heart. Indeed, a desire seemed to be given actually to have sin increasingly revealed and exposed in order that it might be confessed, pardoned, and cleansed. Disturbing though it was, there was a sweetness of grace in the pain.
   3. The love of Christ now seemed marvelous beyond measure. A love for Him flowed from a heart that could not get enough of Christ, ransacking Scripture to discover more and more about Him.
   4. A new love for God’s Word was born—for reading it, for hearing it expounded and applied, and especially for knowing every expression of God’s will, so that it might be obeyed.
   5. A compassionate love for others now flowed. It came from this double sense of sin and need on the one hand and grace and forgiveness on the other. Christian witness ceased to be a burdenand became the ecpression of Spirit-wrought and powerful new affections.
   It was thus for King David:

Have mercy upon me, O God . . . According to the multitude of Your tender mercies, blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions, and my sin is always before me. Against You, You only, have I sinned, and done this evil in Your sight. . . . Purge me . . . Wash me. . . . Create in me a clean heart, O God. . . . My tongue shall sing aloud of your righteousness.

—Psalm 51:1–4, 7, 10, 14

—Sinclair Ferguson, In Christ Alone: Living the Gospel Centered Life (Reformation Trust, 2007), 103–104.

Sinclair Ferguson on the giving of the Holy Spirit:

. . . the coming of the Spirit indicated that a heavenly transaction had taken place. The often-overlooked words of Acts 2:33 record it: “being exalted to the right hand of God, and havin received from the Father the promise of the Holy Spirit. . . .”
   Here, momentarily, a door into heaven is opened and we are given a glimpse into the fellowship between the Son and the Father. The ascended Son comes to the Father. What will he say? “Father, do you remember what you promised the Great King? You said, ‘Ask of me, and I will give you the nations for your inheritance, and the ends of the earth for your possession’ (Ps. 2:8). You said about the Suffering Servant, ‘Behold, My Servant . . . Kings shall shut their mouths at him. . . . He shall see his seed, He shall prolong His days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in His hand. . . . I will divide Him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong, because he poured out his soul unto death . . .’ (Isa. 52:13, 15; 53:10, 12). Father, fulfill your promises to me.”
   How was this world-wide dominion to be established? All authority now belonged to Jesus. He had promised that the disciples would receive the Holy Spirit and He would give them power to become witnesses in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and then to the ends of the earth. The disciples, therefore, would go into all the world proclaiming Jesus. He would be with them to the end—through the presence of the Spirit-witness.

—Sinclair Ferguson, In Christ Alone: Living the Gospel Centered Life (Reformation Trust, 2007), 90–91.

Think what Spirit dwells within thee,
What a Father’s smile is thine,
What thy Savior died to win thee;
Child of heaven, should’st thou repine?

—from the hymn “Jesus, I My Cross Have Taken” by Henry F. Lyte, quoted by Sinclair Ferguson, In Christ Alone: Living the Gospel Centered Life (Reformation Trust, 2007), 78.

Sinclair Ferguson on monergism:

With one command, “Lazarus, come forth!” (John 11:43) [Jesus] raised His dead friend.
   It is fascinating to notice that our Lord accomplished this by two means: prayer and His word (vv. 41–43). He is the Ezekiel-like prophet who speaks both to the bones and the spirits of those who have fallen prey to the curse of sin. He brings new life to the dead. What the prophets of God did spiritually, the Prophet of God did quite literally and physically.
   The emphasis on prayer should not go unnoticed—the apostles certainly grasped it (Acts 6:4). In addition, a pattern is illustrated that is characteristic of Christ’s ongoing activity as the giver of new life: resurrection comes by this new life (James 1:18; 1 Peter 1:23).
   Question: Surely the instrumentality of the Word (to which we actively respond) implies an activity on our part? Do we not, in this sense, contribute something to being born again?
   Answer: No more than Jesus’s command implies that Lazarus contributes life energy to his own resurrection. Lazarus comes out of the tomb because Jesus raises him from the dead, not in order that he might be raised from the dead. In him, our Lord’s words are fulfilled: “Most assuredly I say to you, the hour is coming, and now is, when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God; and those who hear will live” (John 5:25). When prayer to the father and the word of command to the dead come from the lips of Jesus, His voice opens deaf ears and raises the dead.
   What was true then remains so now (which is why we join prayer and preaching), and will continue to be at the last, when by his powerful command Christ once again will raise the dead (1 Thess. 4:16). In undiluted Monergism, He called the galaxies into being, and He gives life to the dead in the same way (Rom. 4:17).

—Sinclair Ferguson, In Christ Alone: Living the Gospel Centered Life (Reformation Trust, 2007), 70–71.

Sinclair Ferguson on the priesthood of Christ:

[O]n the Day of Atonement, Aaron slew a sacrifice, entered the Holy of Holies with the blood, and poured it out on the mercy seat between the cherubim (Lev. 16:15–16).
   This ritual was an acted parable, a copy of what Christ was to do on the great day when He made atonement. The blood of animals is both inappropriate and inadequate to provide the cleansing necessary to approach God. Animal sacrifice could not atone for human sin. Neither could any finite individual atone for sin against the infinite God. Only the blood of the divine image incarnate could cleanse our sin and enable us to enter safely into the presence of God, who is a consuming fire (Heb. 1:3; 12:29).
   The work of atonement took place in the presence of the God of heaven. Indeed, it involved a transaction within the fellowship of the persons of the eternal Trinity in their love for us; the Son was willing, with the aid of the Spirit, to experience the hiding of the Father’s face. The shedding of the blood of God’s Son opened the way to God for us (Acts 20:28). That is both the horror and the glory of our Great High Priest’s ministry.

—Sinclair Ferguson, In Christ Alone: Living the Gospel Centered Life (Reformation Trust, 2007), 54–55.

Sinclair Ferguson on the atonement:

Atonement was impossible without an incarnation. Hebrews explains why the Son of God “had to be made like his brothers in every way.” It is so “that he might make atonement for the sins of the people” (Heb. 2:17, NIV).
   Our salvation requires not only the conquest of our enemy, Satan, but the removal of a yet more terrifying enmity: the wrath of the holy God of heaven. “Purification” and “atonement” must be made “for the sins of the people” (Heb. 1:3; 2:17, NIV).
   This was made clear to the people of God in the Old Testament by the constantly repeated ritual sacrifices they were required to make. They thus learned that they deserved death because of their sins; but they also were taught that in grace God Himself provided a sacrifice to take their place.
   However, even an Old Testament believer could see that the animal sacrifices couldnot in themselves make adequate atonement (Heb. 10:11). Otherwise there would have been no need for them to be repeated. The flesh and blood of bulls and goats could not atone for the sins of human flesh and blood (Heb. 10:4)! Only human flesh and blood could be an appropriate substitute-sacrifice. So the author of Hebrews says:

When [Christ] came into the world, He said:
“. . . a body you have prepared for me.
In burnt offerings and sacrifices for sin
You had no pleasure.
Then I said, ‘Behold, I have come—
In the volume of the book it is written—
To do your will, O God.’”

—Hebrews 10:5–7

   Jesus offered Himself as the substitutionary atonement!
   Sometimes theologians have spoken misleadingly, as though the incarnation is itself the atonement (the “at-one-ment” of God and man in Christ). It is not. But without it there could be no atonement. He took our nature in order to bear our punishment. Only thus can we be at peace with God.

—Sinclair Ferguson, In Christ Alone: Living the Gospel Centered Life (Reformation Trust, 2007), 26–27.