“If our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ.” 2 Corinthians 4:3

Satan blinds the minds of unbelievers through hiding the light of the Gospel of Christ, and he does this by substituting his own gospel.
The gospel of Satan is not a program of anarchy. It does not promote strife and war—but aims at peace and unity. It does not seek to drag down the natural man—but to improve and uplift him. It advocates education and cultivation, and appeals to the “best that is within us.” It endeavors to occupy man so much with this world—that he has no time or inclination to think of the world to come. It propagates the principles of self-sacrifice, charity and benevolence; and teaches us to live for the good of others, and to be kind to all. It appeals strongly to the carnal mind and is popular with the masses, because it ignores the solemn facts—that by nature man is a fallen creature, alienated from the life of God, dead in trespasses and sins, and that his only hope lies in being born again.

The gospel of Satan teaches salvation by works. It inculcates justification before God, on the ground of human merits. It is a bloodless gospel, and presents a crossless Christ, who is received merely, as the Ideal Man.

The apostles of Satan are not saloon-keepers and white-slave traffickers—but are for the most part ordained ministers! Their message may sound very plausible, and their aim appear very praiseworthy—yet we read of them, “For such men are false apostles, deceitful workmen, masquerading as apostles of Christ. And no wonder, for Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light. It is not surprising, then, if his servants masquerade as servants of righteousness.” (2 Corinthians 11:13-15).

In Proverbs 14:12 we read, “There is a way that seems right to a man—but in the end it leads to death.” This “way” which ends in “death” is the Devil’s Delusion—the gospel of Satan—a way of salvation by human attainment. It is a way which “seems right,” that is to say, it is presented in such a plausible way that it appeals to the natural man. It is set forth in such a subtle and attractive manner, that it commends itself to the minds of its hearers. By virtue of the fact that it appropriates to itself religious terminology, sometimes appeals to the Bible for its support (whenever this suits its purpose), holds up before men lofty ideals, and is proclaimed by those who have graduated from our theological institutions, countless multitudes are decoyed and deceived by it!
It as been said with considerable truth, that the way to Hell is paved with good intentions. There will be many in the Lake of Fire who lived with good intentions, honest resolutions and exalted ideals; who were just in their dealings and charitable in all their ways; men who prided themselves in their integrity—but who sought to justify themselves before God by their own righteousness; men who were moral and kind—but who never saw themselves as guilty, lost, hell-deserving sinners, needing a Savior. Such is the way which “seems right.” Such is the way that commends itself to the carnal mind and recommends itself to multitudes of deluded ones today. The Devil’s Delusion is that we can be saved by our own works, and justified by our own deeds!

“He saved us—not by works of righteousness that we had done, but according to His mercy.” Titus 3:5

– A.W Pink

“For we don’t have a high priest who can’t be touched with the feeling of our infirmities.” Hebrews 4:15

The child of God, spiritually taught and convinced, is deeply
sensible of his infirmities. Yes, that he is encompassed with
infirmities—that he is nothing else but infirmities. And therefore
the great High Priest to whom he comes as a burdened sinner—to
whom he has recourse in the depth of his extremity—and at
whose feet he falls overwhelmed with a sense of his helplessness,
sin, misery, and guilt—is so suitable to him as one able to
sympathize with his infirmities.
We would, if left to our own conceptions, naturally imagine that
Jesus is too holy to look down in compassion on a filthy, guilty
wretch like ourselves. Surely, surely, He will spurn us from His
feet. Surely, surely, His holy eyes cannot look upon us in our
blood—guilt—filth—wretchedness—misery—and shame. Surely,
surely, He cannot bestow one heart’s thought—one moment’s
sympathy—or feel one spark of love towards those who are so
unlike Him. Nature, sense, and reason would thus argue, “I must
be holy, perfectly holy—for Jesus to love—I must be pure,
perfectly pure—spotless and sinless, for Jesus to think of. But that
I, a sinful, guilty, defiled wretch—that I, encompassed with
infirmities—that I, whose heart is a cage of unclean birds—that I,
stained and polluted with a thousand iniquities—that I can have
any inheritance in Him—or that He can have any love or
compassion towards me—nature, sense, reason, and human
religion in all its shapes and forms, revolts from the idea.”
It is as though Jesus specially address Himself to the poor,
burdened child of God who feels his infirmities, who cannot boast
of his own wisdom, strength, righteousness, and consistency—but
is all weakness and helplessness. It seems as if He would address
Himself to the case of such a helpless wretch—and pour a sweet
cordial into his bleeding conscience. We, the children of God—we,
who each know our own plague and our own sore—we, who carry
about with us day by day a body of sin and death, that makes us
lament, sigh, and groan—we, who know painfully what it is to be
encompassed with infirmities—we, who come to His feet as being
nothing and having nothing but sin and woe—we do not have a
High Priest who is unable to sympathize with our infirmities, but
One who carries in His bosom that sympathizing, merciful, feeling,              tender, and compassionate heart!

– J.C Philpot

‘True spiritual mortification does not consist in sin not being in thee, nor in its being put upon the cross daily, nor yet in its being kept upon it. There must be something more to establish perfect peace in thy conscience; and that is the testimony of God concerning the body of sin. He has provided for thy perfect deliverance from it in Christ. Everything needful for this purpose was finished by Him upon the cross. He was thy Surety. He suffered for thee. Thy sins were crucified with Him, and nailed to His cross. They were put to death when He died: for He was thy covenant-head, and thou wast legally represented by Him, and art indeed dead to sin by His dying to sin once. The law has now no more right to condemn thee, a believer, than it has to condemn Him. Justice is bound to deal with thee, as it has with thy risen and ascended Savior. If thou dost not thus see thy complete mortification in Him, sin will reign in thee. No sin can be crucified either in heart or life, unless it be first pardoned in conscience; because there will be want of faith to receive the strength of Jesus, by whom alone it can be crucified. If it be not mortified in its guilt, it cannot be subdued in its power. If the believer does not see his perfect deadness to sin in Jesus, he will open a wide door to unbelief; and if he be not persuaded of his completeness in Christ, he gives room for the attacks of self-righteous and legal tempers. If Christ be not all in all, self must still be looked upon as something great, and there will be food left for the pride of self-importance and self-sufficiency; so that he cannot grow into the death of Christ in sensible experience, further than he believes himself to be dead to sin in Christ. The more clearly and steadfastly he believes this, as the Apostle did — I am crucified with Christ — in proportion will he cleave to Christ, and receive from Him greater power to crucify sin. This believing view of his absolute mortification in Christ, is the true Gospel method of mortifying sin in our own persons. Read the sixth of the Romans, and pray for the Spirit of revelation to open it to thee. There thou wilt discover the true way to mortify sin. It is by believing that thou art planted together with Christ in His death; from thence only thy pardon flows, from thence thy daily victory.

“Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth.” Colossians 3:2

Everything upon earth, as viewed by the eyes of the Majesty of heaven—is base and paltry. Earth is after all, nothing but a huge clod of dust, and as such, as insignificant in the eyes of its Maker as the small dust of the balance, or the drop of the bucket. What, then, are its highest objects—its loftiest aims—its grandest pursuits—its noblest employments—in the sight of Him who inhabits eternity, but base and worthless? Vanity is stamped on all earth’s attainments. All earthly pursuits and high accomplishments—wealth, rank, learning, power, or pleasure— end in death! The breath of God’s displeasure soon lays low in the grave all that is rich and mighty, high and proud. But that effectual work of grace on the heart, whereby the chosen vessels of mercy are delivered from the power of darkness and translated into the kingdom of God’s dear Son, calls them out of those low, grovelling pursuits—those earthly toys—those base and sensual lusts—in which other men seek at once their happiness and their ruin.

– J.C Philpot

“Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be
saved.” Jeremiah 17:14

Here is this sin! Save me from it!—Here is this snare! Break it to
pieces!—Here is this lust! Lord, subdue it!—Here is this
temptation! Deliver me out of it!—Here is my proud heart! Lord,
humble it!—Here is my unbelieving heart! Take it away, and give
me faith—give me submission to Your mind and will. Take me as
I am with all my sin and shame and work in me everything well
pleasing in Your sight.

– J.C Philpot