There is a place where a man, stripped of every pretense, falls before a holy God with nothing left to plead but mercy. Such was David when he wrote these words. The prophet Nathan had come to him; the sword of conviction had pierced his soul; his sin with Bathsheba and the blood of Uriah were laid bare before the eyes of Him with whom we have to do. David does not bargain. He does not excuse. He does not merely beg to escape the consequences of what he has done. From the depths of a broken and contrite spirit he cries, "Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me." Mark it well, beloved — he asks not for a clean record, but for a clean heart. He has touched the root of the matter, and the root is within.
Here is the cry that every honest soul must one day pray. We may wash the outside of the cup and the platter, but the Lord looks upon the heart. There is a deeper defilement than the sins we commit — there is the carnal nature, the inbred corruption, the bent toward sinning that no resolution can master and no reformation can remove. David did not say, "Help me to do better." He said, "Create" — a word that calls for the almighty power of God, the same power that spoke worlds into being out of nothing. Only God can make a heart clean. The carnal mind is enmity against God, and it must not merely be pardoned but purged. This is the second definite work of grace, the sanctifying baptism that goes down to the depths and burns out what justification alone does not touch.
And how shall this cleansing come? Not by tears alone, not by the striving of the flesh, but by the precious blood of Jesus Christ, who "loved the church, and gave himself for it; That he might sanctify and cleanse it." The blood that justifies the sinner also sanctifies the saint wholly. When the believer comes in utter consecration, laying all upon the altar, the Holy Ghost descends as a refining fire and purifies the heart by faith, even as He did the hearts of the disciples at Pentecost. This is no small grace, no optional blessing for a favored few. It is the will of God, even your sanctification — and out of that clean heart flows the baptism of the Holy Ghost with the evidence of speaking in tongues, and power to live free from sin in this present evil world.
A clean heart cannot keep company with the world's defilement. The soul God has purified will draw back from the things that grieve the Spirit; it will love the separated life, walk in the fear of the Lord, and count nothing too dear to lay down for holiness. "Follow peace with all men, and holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord." We do not chase after experiences for their own sake; we chase after God, that He may possess us wholly and dwell in a temple swept clean for His glory.
Is your heart clean tonight? Not your reputation, not your church attendance, not your good intentions — your heart. If the Spirit has searched you and found the carnal nature still alive, do not run from the altar; run to it. Fall there as David fell. Repent of every known sin, consecrate every part of your life, hold nothing back, and tarry until the fire falls and the work is done. Let the blood be applied, let the Holy Ghost come in, and rise a sanctified, Spirit-filled believer.
For the Lord is coming soon, and He comes for a people made ready — a glorious church, not having spot or wrinkle, holy and without blemish. He will not gather the half-cleansed and the world-loving, but those whose hearts have been made pure and who watch for His appearing. The midnight cry will sound, and the door will shut. O sinner, O lukewarm saint, pray David's prayer now while mercy lingers: "Create in me a clean heart, O God." Cry it until heaven answers.
"Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me."
— Psalm 51:10

