Most people think of “fellowship” as the awkward twenty minutes after a church service involving lukewarm coffee and small talk about the weather. We use the word so often in our circles that it has lost its edge. We claim to have fellowship with God as if it were a casual hobby or a mental state we slip into when life gets hard. But if we are honest, our private lives often look nothing like our public prayers. We talk about the Light while living in the shadows of our own secrets.

Hugh Binning, a Scottish pastor from the 1600s, wrote a collection of sermons titled Fellowship with God that acts like a spiritual mirror. It is uncomfortable to look into, but it is the only way to see if we are actually spiritually alive or just going through the motions. As a pastor who holds to the Westminster Confession, I found Binning’s work to be a necessary correction to the cheap, easy religion that plagues our pews. He does not offer a list of “five ways to feel better.” He offers a vision of God so bright that it either changes you or exposes you as a fraud.

Real Knowledge Shows Up in Your Feet

We live in a time where people think they are growing spiritually because they listen to three podcasts a week or can argue about the finer points of the Shorter Catechism. Binning challenges this immediately. He argues that you only truly know as much of God as you love and obey. If your knowledge stays in your head and never reaches your hands, it is not divine knowledge at all. It is just more information.

He describes divinity as a “practical science.” This means its goal is not just to be known, but to be done. The whole point of the Bible is to move our hearts to adore God and our feet to follow Him. If we use the Scriptures only for debate or curiosity, we are using them the wrong way. Real knowledge of God is living knowledge. It is an influence that warms the heart and changes the way we treat our neighbors and our families.

“Practice is real knowledge, because it is living knowledge. It is the very life and soul of Christianity, when there needs no more but the intimation of his will to carry the whole man.”

God is Light and He Won’t Blend with Your Darkness

Binning starts by stripping away our excuses. He points out that if we want to walk with God, we have to understand who He is. The Bible tells us that God is light. This is not just a poetic thought; it is a description of His absolute purity and holiness. Light does not mix with darkness. It chases it away. If we claim to have a relationship with this God but continue to live in the dark corners of sin and ignorance, Binning says we are simply lying to ourselves.

This is a hard truth for the modern ear. We like to think of God as a vague, permissive grandfather who ignores our flaws. But Binning argues that the very nature of God makes this impossible. You cannot be in the sun and stay in the shade at the same time. To have fellowship with God, there must be a change in us. We must be transformed into some likeness of His nature. He is the original light, and we must become a derivative light, reflecting His beauty and holiness in our own lives.

“What communion then can light have with darkness? Either the light must become darkness, or the darkness become light; either the light must leave its glorious purity, and forsake its nature, which cannot be admitted, or else the darkness of men’s souls must be wiped off, and abolished by the brightness of God’s light.”

The Ridiculous Nature of the Religious Lie

One of the most striking parts of this book is how Binning mocks the hypocrisy of the average person in the church. He points out that in nature, everything is what it appears to be. A lion roars like a lion. A horse acts like a horse. Only humans possess the strange, broken ability to claim one identity while living another. We take on the name of “Christian,” which implies we are one with Christ, yet our talk is worldly and our actions are selfish.

Binning calls this a “monstrous” thing. It is an absurd violation of reason. We try to combine things that cannot stay together. We want the comfort of the gospel without the change of heart the gospel demands. This is not just a small mistake; it is a “black constellation of lies” that dishonors God. If our tongues speak of grace while our hands do the work of the world, we are making our religion a hollow shell.

“And is not this a staple-known rule in nature, that every thing is known by the effects of it? A lion by his roaring, a lark by its singing, a horse by his neighing, and an ox by his lowing, &c. All these speak forth nothing but sincerity… O how doth this condemn those who pretend to this high calling of Christianity! and yet there is no way left to discern them by.”

You Can’t Have the Blood Without the Water

Binning makes it clear that you cannot have the blood of Christ to wash away your guilt if you do not also have the water of the Spirit to wash away your love of sin. These are two “golden streams” that always run in the same channel. Many people want the blood to avoid hell, but they have no interest in the water to become holy. Binning warns that if you try to divide these, you lose both.

The goal of being forgiven is so that we can return to the work we were made for: glorifying God. Being washed is not a license to go back to the mud; it is a rescue so that we can walk in the light of His commands. This balance between being forgiven and being changed is the very core of the Christian life. If we only want the pardon, we don’t actually want God; we just want an escape from the consequences.

“The cleansing blood and the purifying light, these are the entire and perfect sum of the gospel. Purification from sin, the guilt of sin, and the purity of walking in the light flowing from that, make up the full complexion of Christianity; which are so nearly conjoined together, that if they be divided they cease to be.”

Knowing the Specific Plague of Your Own Heart

A major reason why our fellowship with God is so weak is that our confessions are too general. We say, “Lord, forgive me for being a sinner,” but we never name the actual sins. Binning argues that the true seeker after God must know “the plague of his own heart.” We need to go into the secret rooms of our souls and find the specific pride, the specific greed, and the specific malice that is hiding there.

General confession is often a way to hide from God. It is a way to admit fault without taking any real responsibility. Binning calls us to a deep, daily inspection of ourselves. We should not be afraid of what we find, because the blood of Christ is sufficient for it all. But we cannot expect to be clean if we refuse to see the dirt.

“What prayer or supplication soever be made by any man, which shall know the plague of his own heart, and spread forth his hands, then hear thou in heaven, and forgive every man whose heart thou knowest.”

Jesus is a Real Advocate, Not a Legal Loophole

For the person who truly wants to walk with God, the realization of their own sin can be crushing. When we see the purity of the “Light,” we see the depth of our own stains. Binning gives a beautiful takeaway for the discouraged soul. He shows us that when we fail—and we will fail—we have an Advocate with the Father. This is Christ Jesus the Righteous.

What is fascinating is how Binning explains Christ’s role in the court of heaven. He does not plead that we are innocent. He does not make excuses for our bad behavior. Instead, he pleads that the debt has already been paid. He presents his own sacrifice as the reason we should go free. The Judge is also our Father, which means He is not looking for a reason to condemn us, but has provided a way to save us. This gives the believer a “satisfied though guilty” status that provides real peace.

“But he pleads satisfied, though guilty—he presents his satisfactory sacrifice, and the savour of that perfumes heaven, and pacifieth all.”

Why You Should Read This Book

If you feel like your spiritual life is a performance where you are always trying to stay in character, you need to read this book. Hugh Binning does not offer a cheap version of grace. He shows that the Reformed faith is not a cold system of logic, but a warm, living relationship with a God who is big enough to actually save us and holy enough to actually change us.