109SermonsbyJCRyle (continued)
by. I do implore him to change his plan—and to change it without delay! One said on his death-bed, "If I had served my God half as well as I have served my king, he would not have left me in my trouble." I fear it will be said of many, one day, "If they had read their Bibles as diligently as they read their newspapers, they would not have been devoid of consolation when they needed it most."
The Bible applied to the heart by the Holy Spirit, is the only treasury of consolation. Without it we have nothing to depend on; "our feet will slide in due time" (Deut. 32:35). With it we are like those who stand on a rock. That man is ready for anything—who has got a firm hold of God's promises.
Once more, then, I say to every reader, arm yourself with a thorough knowledge of God's Word. Read it, and be able to say, "I have hope, because it is thus and thus written! I am not afraid, because it is thus and thus written!" Happy is that soul who can say with Job, "I have esteemed the words of his mouth—more than my necessary food!" (Job 23. 12).
3. Let us examine, in the last place, the particular text Paul quotes in enforcing the duty of contentment. He tells the Hebrews, "God has said—I will never leave you, nor forsake you."
It matters little to what person in the Trinity we ascribe these words, whether to Father, Son, or Holy Spirit. It all comes to the same in the end. They all are engaged to save man in the covenant of grace. Each of the three Persons says, as the other two, "I will never leave you, nor forsake you."
There is great sweetness in this peculiar promise. It deserves close attention. God says to every man or woman, who is willing to commit his or her soul to the mercy that is in Christ, "I will never leave you, and never forsake you." I, the eternal Father, the mighty God, the King of kings, "will never leave you." The English language fails to give the full meaning of the Greek. It implies, "never—no never—no, nor ever leave you!"
Now, if I know anything of this world, it is a world of "leaving, forsaking, parting, separation, failure, and disappointment." Think how immense the comfort of finding something which will never leave nor fail.
Earthly good things leave us. Health, money, property, friendship, all make themselves wings and flee away. They are here today—and gone tomorrow. But God says, "I will never leave you!"
We leave one another. We grow up in families full of affection and tender feelings, and then we are all thoroughly scattered. One follows his calling or profession one way, and another in another. We go north and south, and east and west, and perhaps meet no more. We meet our nearest friends and relations only at rare intervals, and then to part again. But God says, "I will never leave you."
We are left by those we love. They die and diminish, and become fewer and fewer every year. The more lovely—like flowers—the more frail, and delicate, and short-lived, they seem to be. But God says, "I will never leave you."
Separation is the universal law everywhere—except between Christ and his people. Death and failure stamp every other thing; but there is no separation in the love of God to believers.
The closest relation on earth—the marriage bond—has an end. Marriage is only "until death us do part." But the relation between Christ and the sinner who trusts in him, never ends. It lives when the body dies. It lives when flesh and heart fail. Once begun, it never withers. It is only made brighter and stronger by the grave. "I am persuaded," says Paul, "that neither life, nor death, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature—shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord!" (Romans 8:38, 39).
But this is not all. There is a peculiar depth of wisdom in the words, "I will never leave—nor forsake." Observe, God does not say, "My people shall always have pleasant things; they shall always be fed in green pastures, and have no trials—or trials very short and few." He neither says so, nor does he appoint such a lot to his people. On the contrary, he sends them affliction and chastisement. He tries them— by suffering. He purifies them—by sorrow. He exercises their faith— by disappointments. But still, in all these things he promises, "I will never leave—nor forsake."
Let every believer grasp these words, and store them up in his heart. Keep them ready, and have them fresh in your memory; you will need them one day. The Philistines will be upon you; the hand of sickness will lay you low; the king of terror will draw near; the valley of the shadow of death will open up before your eyes. Then comes the hour when you will find nothing so comforting, as a text like this— nothing so cheering, as a realizing sense of God's companionship.
Stick to that word "never." It is worth its weight in gold. Cling to it as a drowning man clings to a rope. Grasp it firmly, as a soldier attacked on all sides grasps his sword. God has said, and will stand to it, "I will never leave you!"
"Never!" Though your heart often faints, and you are sick of self, and your many failures and infirmities; even then the promise will not fail.
"Never!" Though the devil whispers, 'I shall have you at last! In little while, your faith will fail, and you will be mine!' Even then, God will keep his Word.
"Never!" Though waves of trouble go over your head, and all hope seems taken away. Even then the Word of God will stand.
"Never!" When the cold chill of death is creeping over you, and friends can do no more, and you are starting on that journey from which there is no return. Even then—Christ will not forsake you.
"Never!" When the Day of Judgment comes, and the books are opened, and the dead are rising from their graves, and eternity is beginning. Even then the promise will bear all your weight. Christ will not leave his hold on your soul.
Oh, believing reader, trust in the Lord forever, for he says, "I will never leave you!" Lean back all your weight upon him—do not be afraid. Glory in his promise. Rejoice in the strength of your consolation. You may say boldly, "The Lord is my helper—and I will not fear."
I conclude this paper with three practical remarks. Consider them well, reader, and lay them to heart—
(1.) Let me tell you why there is so little contentment in the world. The simple answer is, because there is so little grace, and true religion. Few know their own sin; few feel their desert; and so few are content with such things as they have. Humility, selfknowledge, a clear sight of our own utter vileness and corruption, these are the true roots of contentment.
(2.) Let me tell you, secondly, what you should do, if you would be content. You must know your own heart, seek God for your portion, take Christ for your Savior, and use God's Word for your daily food.
Contentment is not to be learned at the feet of Gamaliel, but at the feet of Jesus Christ. He who has God for his friend and heaven for his home—can wait for his good things, and be content with little here below.
(3.) Let me tell you, lastly, that there is one thing with which we ought never to be content. That thing is a little religion, a little faith, a little hope, and a little grace. Let us never sit down satisfied with a little of these things. On the contrary, let us seek them more and more.
When Alexander the Great visited the Greek philosopher Diogenes, he asked him if there was anything that he wanted, and that he could give him. He got this short answer: "I want nothing but that you should stand from between me and the sun." Let the spirit of that answer run through our religion. One thing there is which should never satisfy and content us, and that is, "anything that stands between our souls and Christ."
"I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength." Philippians 4:11-13
Many Shall Come
by J. C. Ryle
"Many shall come from the east and west—and shall sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 8:11
The words of Scripture which head this page were spoken by our Lord Jesus Christ. You may take them either as a prophecy or as a promise. In either point of view they are deeply interesting, and contain much food for thought. Take the words as a prophecy, and remember that they are sure to be fulfilled. The Bible contains many predictions of things most unlikely and improbable, which have yet proved true. Was it not said of Ishmael, the father of the Arabian race, that he was to be "a wild man, his hand against every man, and every man's hand against him?" (Gen. 16:12). We see the fulfillment of those words at this very day, when we look at the tribes in the Sudan, or observe the ways of the Bedouins. Was it not said of Egypt that it was finally to become "the basest of kingdoms," and its inhabitants a people who could neither govern themselves nor be governed? (Ezek. 29:15). We see the fulfillment of those words at this very day along the whole valley of the Nile, and every statesman in Europe knows it to his sorrow. It will be just the same with the prophecy before our eyes. "Many shall sit down in the kingdom of heaven."
Take the words as a promise. It was spoken for the encouragement of the Apostles, and of all Christian ministers and teachers down to the present day. We are often tempted to think that preaching, and teaching, and visiting, and trying to bring souls to Christ does no good, and that our labor is all thrown away. But here is the promise of One who "cannot lie," and never failed to keep His word. He cheers us with a gracious sentence. He would have us not faint or give way to despair. Whatever we may think, and however little success we may see, there is a Scripture before us which cannot be broken, "Many shall sit down in the kingdom of heaven."
I. We have first in these words, the number of those who shall be saved. Our Lord Jesus Christ declares that they shall be "many."
How strange that word "many" sounds! Will any be saved who are not born again, washed in Christ's blood, and sanctified by the Holy Spirit? Will any be saved who have not repented of sin, believed on the Lord Jesus for forgiveness, and been made holy in heart? None, none, certainly none. If men and women can be saved without repentance, faith and holiness—we may as well throw the Bible away, and give up Christianity altogether!
But are there many people of this kind to be seen in the world? Alas! there are very few. The believers whom we see and know are "a little flock." "Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leads unto life; and few there be that find it" (Matt. 7:14). Few are to be seen in towns, and few in country parishes! Few among the rich, and few among the poor! Few among the old, and few among the young! Few among the learned, and few among the unlearned! Few in palaces, and few in cottages! It is an abiding sorrow with all true Christians, that they meet so few with whom they can pray, and praise, and read the Bible, and talk of spiritual things. They often feel to stand alone. Many are the people who never go to any place of worship from the first day of January to the last day of December, and seem to live without God in the world. Few are the men and women who do anything for the cause of Christ upon earth, or appear to care whether those around them are lost or saved. Can any one deny these things? Impossible! Yet here is our Lord Jesus Christ saying, "Many shall sit down in the kingdom of heaven."
Now, why did our Lord say so? He never made a mistake, and all that He says is true. Let me try to throw some light on this question.
(a) There shall be "many" when all are gathered together who have died in the Lord, from Abel, the first saint, down to the last who is found alive when the trumpet sounds, and the resurrection takes place. They shall be a "multitude, which no man can number" (Rev. 7. 9).
(b) There shall be "many" when all the believers of every name, and nation, and people, and tongue—the Old Testament saints, like Enoch, and Noah, and Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and Moses, and David, and the Prophets—the saints of the New Testament, like the Apostles—the saints among the primitive Christians, and the Reformers—when all these are brought together, they will be "a multitude which no man can number."
(c) There will be "many" when the true Christians are gathered together, who are now scattered over the face of the globe, and not known either by the Church or the world. There are not a few who belong to no congregation, and are not numbered in any list of communicants, though their names are in the Lamb's book of life. Some of them live and die in great neglected parishes unknown and unvisited. Some of them get hold of the truth by hearing the Gospel preached by missionaries at home or abroad; but the preacher has never known them, and they have never been formally enrolled in the list of converts. Some of them are soldiers and sailors, who stand alone in regiments and on board ship, and are not understood by their companions. There are myriads of such persons, I believe, who live the life of faith, and love Christ, and are known to the Lord, though not known by men. These also will make a large addition to the "multitude which no man can number."
The plain truth is, that the family of God will be found at last much larger than most of us suppose it is. We look at the things we see with our own eyes, and we forget how much there is going on in the world, in Europe, Asia, Africa, and America, which our eyes never see at all. The inner life of the vast majority of all around us is a hidden thing, of which we know nothing. We do not think of the ages that are past, and the countless millions who are now "dust and ashes," though each in his turn fell asleep in Christ and was carried to heaven. No doubt it is perfectly true that "Wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leads to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat" (Matt. 7:13). It is fearful to think what an immense majority of all around us appear dead in sin, and utterly unprepared to meet God. But, for all that, we must not underrate the number of God's children. Even supposing they are in a minority, when judged by human estimate, they will still prove at last to be very many in the kingdom of glory, an enormous company, "a multitude which no man can number."
Is any reader of these pages disposed to laugh at religion, because those who profess it decidedly are few in number? Are you secretly inclined to despise those who read their Bibles, and make a conscience of keeping their Sundays holy, and trying to walk closely with God? Are you afraid of making a profession yourself, because you think there will be so few with you and so many against you, and you do not like to be singular, and stand alone? Alas! there have always been many like you! When Noah built the ark, there were few with him, and many mocked at him—but he was found to be in the right at last. When the Jews were rebuilding the wall of Jerusalem after the return from Babylon, Sanballat and Tobiah scoffed at them, and said, "What do these feeble Jews?" When the Lord Jesus Christ left the world, only a hundred and twenty disciples met together in the upper chamber in Jerusalem, while the friends of the unbelieving Pharisees, and scribes, and priests were numbered by tens of thousands. But the disciples were right, and their enemies were wrong. When bloody Mary sat on the throne, and Latimer and Ridley were burnt at the stake, the friends of the Gospel seemed very few, and their enemies were a great majority. Yet the Reformers were right, and their enemies were wrong.
Take care of what you are doing! Beware of judging vital Christianity by the small number of those who seem to profess it. You may have the crowd with you now, and the laugh may be on your side—but a day is coming when you will open your eyes with amazement, and find out, perhaps too late, that the very people whom you despised were not few, but many, a vast company, "a multitude which no man can number."
Is any reader of this paper disposed to be cast down and discouraged, because he loves Christ, and tries to serve Him, but finds himself almost entirely alone? Does your heart sometimes fail you, and your hands hang down, and your knees wax faint, because you so seldom meet anyone whom you can pray with, and praise with, and read with, and talk with about Christ, and open your heart to without fear? Do you ever mourn in secret for lack of company? Well, you are only drinking the cup which many have drunk before you. Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and Joseph, and Moses, and Samuel, and David, and the Prophets, and Paul, and John, and the Apostles were all people who stood very much alone. Do you expect to fare better than them?
Take comfort, and have faith. There is more grace in the world than you can see, and more Christians traveling towards heaven than you are aware of. Elijah thought he stood alone, when there were "seven thousand in Israel who had not bowed the knee to Baal." Take comfort, and look forward. Your good time is coming. You will have plenty of company by-and-by. You will find many and not few in the kingdom of heaven—many to welcome you—many to rejoice and praise with—many with whom you will spend a blessed eternity. How pleasant it is to meet a single saint now for a few short hours! How it cheers and refreshes us, like snow in summer or sunshine after clouds! What, then, will it be when we shall see an enormous company of saints, without a single unconverted sinner to spoil the harmony; all men and women of faith, and none unbelievers; all wheat and no chaff; "a multitude which no man can number!" Surely the "many" we shall see in heaven will make ample amends for the "few" that we now see upon earth.
II. We have, secondly, in our Lord Jesus Christ's words, the dwellings and position of those who shall be finally saved. It is written "that they shall come from the east and the west."
There can be little doubt that this expression is a proverbial one. It must not be taken literally, as if the saved were not to come from the north and south, but only from the rising and setting of the sun. We find the same expression in the 103rd Psalm, where it is said, "As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us." The meaning is simply this: The saved shall come from different places—from distant places—and from places where you would have thought it most unlikely they would be found.
(a) They will not all have belonged to one church. There will be Episcopalians, and Presbyterians, and Independents, and Baptists, and Methodists, and Plymouth Brethren, and many other kinds of Christians whom I have neither space nor time to name. However much they may disagree and dispute now, they will have to agree at last. They will find to their amazement that the points upon which they were of one mind were a vast quantity, and the points on which they differed were very few. They will all be able to say with one heart, "Hallelujah! praise to Him who loved us, and washed us from our sins in His own blood!" And they will all be able to reply with one voice, "Amen, amen!" The anthem in heaven, said good George Whitefield, will be to all eternity, "What has God wrought!" The points of earthly disagreement will have dropped off, and melted like snow in spring. The common teaching of the Holy Spirit will stand out clear and plain before every eye in heaven. At length there will be one real Church, without spot or blemish or any such thing, without quarreling, controversy, or dissension, all wheat and no tares, all sound members and none unsound.
(b) They will come from various countries in every part of the globe, from Greenland's icy mountains, and the scorching regions of the tropics, from India and Australia, from America and from China, from New Zealand and the islands of the Pacific Ocean, from Africa and from Mexico. Some will have laid their bones in solitary graves like Henry Martyn in Persia, with none to do them honor in their death. Some will have been buried at sea with a sailor's funeral. Some will have died the death of martyrs, and been burnt to ashes like our own Reformers. Some will have fallen victims to malignant climates, or heathen violence at missionary stations. And some will have died like Moses, in places where no human eye saw them. But they shall all come together, and meet again in the kingdom of heaven. It matters little where we are buried, and how we are buried, and in what kind of a grave. China is just as near to heaven as England is, and the sea shall give up her dead at the same moment as the land. Our coffin, and our funeral, and the burial service, and the long procession of mourners, are all matters of very secondary importance. The one point we should aim to make sure, from whatever place we may come, is to be among those who "shall sit down in the kingdom of heaven."
(c) They shall come from utterly different ranks, classes, and professions. Heaven will be a place for servants as well as masters, for maids as well as mistresses, for poor as well as rich, for the unlearned as well as the learned, for tenants as well as landlords, for subjects as well as rulers, for the pauper as well as the queen. There is no royal road to heaven, and there will be no class distinctions when we get there. At length there will be perfect equality, perfect fraternity, and perfect freedom. It will matter nothing whether we had much money on earth, or none at all. The only question will be whether we have really repented of our sins, really believed on the Lord Jesus, and were really converted and sanctified people. There will be no preference given to those who have come from monasteries, nunneries, or hermits' caves.
It is very likely that those who have done their duty in that state of life to which God called them, and have carried Christ's cross in the Army or the Navy, in Parliament or at the Bar, in the bank or the merchant's office, behind the counter or at the bottom of a coal-pit, will be found in the first rank in the kingdom of heaven. It is not necessary to wear a peculiar dress, or to put on an austere countenance, and to retire from the world, in order to sit down in the kingdom of heaven.
(d) They shall come from most unlikely places, and from positions in which you would have thought the seed of eternal life could never have grown up in a soul. Saul, the young Pharisee, came from the feet of Gamaliel, and from persecuting Christians, and rose to be the great Apostle of the Gentiles, who turned the world upside down. Daniel lived in Babylon, and served God faithfully in the midst of idolatry and heathenism. Peter was once a fisherman on the sea of Galilee. Matthew was a public tax-gatherer, who spent his days in receiving custom. Luther and Latimer began life as devoted Papists, and ended life as devoted Christians. John Bunyan, the author of "Pilgrim's Progress," was once a careless, thoughtless, swearing, young man in a country village. George Whitefield served in a public house at Gloucester, and spent his early days in cleaning pots and carrying out beer. John Newton, the author of well-known hymns and letters, was once the captain of a slave-ship on the coasts of Africa, and saw no harm in buying and selling human flesh and blood. All these truly "came from east and west," and seemed at one time in their lives the most unlikely people in the world to come to Christ, and "sit down in the kingdom of heaven." But they did come unmistakably, and they are an everlasting proof that our Lord Jesus Christ's words are strictly true. Men and women may "come from the east and west," and yet be found at last in the kingdom of eternal happiness and glory.
Let us learn never to despair of the salvation of anyone, as long as he lives. Fathers ought never to despair of prodigal sons. Mothers ought never to despair of self-willed, headstrong daughters. Husbands should never despair of wives, nor wives of husbands. There is nothing impossible with God. The arm of grace is very long, and can reach those who seem very far off. The Holy Spirit can change any heart. The blood of Christ can cleanse away any sin. Let us pray on, and hope on, for others, however unlikely their salvation may appear to be at present. We shall see many in heaven whom we never expected to see there. The last may yet prove first, and the first last. The famous Grimshaw of Yorkshire, when he died, left his only son unconverted, careless, thoughtless, and indifferent to true religion. The day came when the young man's heart was changed, and he walked in the steps of his father. And when he lay upon his deathbed, one of his last words was, "What will my old father say when he sees me in heaven!" "Surely the arm of the Lord is not too short to save!" Isaiah 59:1
Let us learn not to sorrow "as those who have no hope," when we part from friends who are true Christians, and part, perhaps, forever. The separations and goodbyes of this world are probably some of its most painful things. When the family circle is broken up, when the old nest begins to lose its inhabitants, when the young man sets sail for Australia, New Zealand, or the Fiji Islands, with no hope of returning for ten or twelve years—when these things take place, it is a sore trial to flesh and blood. I have witnessed scenes on the landingstage at Liverpool, when the great steamships are about to start for America, which might bring tears to the eyes of the most coldhearted stranger. The partings of this world are terrible things; but true faith in Christ and the resurrection to eternal life through Him, takes the sting out of the worst of partings. It enables a believer to look beyond the things seen to the things unseen, to the coming of the Savior, and our gathering together unto Him. Yes, it is a pleasant thing to remember, as the great ship moves away, and we wave our last adieux, "it is but a little time, and we shall see them all again to part no more." God's people shall come together from east and west, and we shall all meet at last "in the kingdom of heaven," and go out no more.
III. We have, thirdly, in our Lord Jesus Christ's words, the future portion and reward of those who shall be finally saved. It is written, "they shall sit down in the kingdom of heaven."
That expression, "sit down," is a very pleasant and comfortable one to my mind. Let us sift it, and examine it, and see what it contains. In the judgement day believers shall STAND with boldness at the right hand of Christ, and say, "Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who is he that condemns? Christ Jesus, who died--more than that, who was raised to life--is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us." (Romans 8:33, 34). But when the judgement is passed and over, and the eternal kingdom begins, they shall "SIT DOWN."
(a) Sitting down implies a sense of CONFIDENCE and being at home. If we were in the presence of a stern judge, or of a king clothed in awful majesty, we should not dare to sit down. But there will be nothing to make believers afraid in the kingdom of heaven. The sins of their past lives will not make them tremble and feel alarmed. However many, however great, and however black, they will all have been washed away in Christ's precious blood, and not one spot will remain. Completely justified, completely absolved, completely forgiven, completely "accepted in the Beloved," they will be counted righteous before God for the sake of Him who was made sin for us, though He knew no sin (2 Cor. v. 21).
Though the sins of their lives "were as scarlet, they shall be made white as snow; and though red like crimson, they shall be as wool." Their sins will be "remembered no more;" "sought for, and not found;" "blotted out as a thick cloud;" "cast behind God's back;" "plunged in the depths of the sea." Believers will need no purgatory after they die. It is ignorance and unbelief to think so. Once joined to Christ by faith, they are complete in the sight of God the Father, and even the perfect angels shall see no spot in them. Surely they may well sit down; and feel at home! They may remember all the sins of their past lives, and be humbled at the recollection of them. But those sins will not make them afraid.
The sense of daily failure, weakness, imperfection, and inward conflict, will no longer mar their peace. At last their sanctification will be completed. The war within shall come to a perfect end. Their old besetting sins and infirmities will have dropped off, and melted away. At length they shall be able to serve God without weariness, and attend on Him without distraction, and not be obliged to cry continually, "Wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death?" (Romans 7:24). Who can tell the blessedness of all this while we are yet in the body? Here in this world we do not realize the completeness of our justification, and "groan, being burdened" by reason of our imperfect sanctification. Our best endeavors after holiness are accompanied by a sorrowful consciousness of daily failure. But when "the old man" is at last entirely dead, and the flesh no longer lusts against the spirit—when there is an end of indwelling sin, and the world and the devil can no longer tempt us, then at last we shall understand what God has prepared for them that love Him. We shall "sit down in the kingdom of heaven." But this is not all.
(b) Sitting down implies REST, and a complete cessation of work, and toil, and conflict. There is a rest which remains for the people of God. Here in this life we are never still. The Word of God tells us that the Christian must "walk," and "run," and "work," and "labor," and "fight," and "groan," and "carry the cross," and wear the
"armor," and stand like a sentinel on guard in an enemy's land. It is not until we enter the kingdom of heaven that we must expect to "sit down."
Work for Christ, no doubt, is pleasant, and even in this life brings a rich reward—the reward of a happy conscience, a reward which the mere politician, or merchant, or man of pleasure, can never reap, because they only seek a corruptible crown. "They who drink of these waters shall thirst again." But even the Christian's work is exhausting to flesh and blood; and so long as we dwell in a mortal body, work and weariness will go together. The very sight of sin in others, which we cannot check, is a daily trial to our souls. No doubt the fight of faith is a "good fight," but there never can be fighting without wounds, and pain, and fatigue. The very armor the Christian is bid to put on is heavy. The helmet and the breastplate, the shield and the sword, without which we cannot overcome the devil, can never be worn without constant exertion. Surely it will be a blessed time when our enemies will all be slain, and we can lay aside our armor in safety, and "sit down in the kingdom of heaven."
In the meantime let us never forget that the time is short. Even the devil knows that, and has great wrath because he has but a short time (Rev. 12:12). Let us work on, and fight on—in full assurance of hope, with the blessed recollection that it shall not be forever. When the great battle of Waterloo was raging, and the outcome of the day seemed to tremble in the balance, it is said that the Duke of Wellington kept calmly turning his eyes to the left, in the confident expectation that in a little time his Prussian allies would appear, and his victory would be sure. Let this kind of hope animate our souls when we are bearing the labor and heat of the day. Our King is soon coming, and when he comes we shall "sit down," and toil and fight no more!
IV. The fourth and last thing which the words of our Lord Jesus Christ contain is, the COMPANY which those who are finally saved shall enjoy forever.
Now, company is one great secret of happiness. Man is by nature a social being. It is a rare exception indeed to find anyone who likes to be always alone. A palace filled with untold wealth and luxuries, would at last be little better than a prison—if we lived in it entirely alone. A cottage with congenial companions is a happier dwellingplace than a royal castle with—no one to speak to, no one to listen to, no one to exchange mind with, no one to converse with, but one's own poor heart. We all need someone to live with and love. Even the solitary dweller on a island, like Robinson Crusoe, is never satisfied to dwell alone.
Our blessed Lord, who formed man out of the dust of the earth, and made him what he is, knows that perfectly well. When, therefore, it describes the future portion of His believing people, He takes care to tell us what kind of company they shall have in the kingdom of heaven. He says that the saved shall "sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob" in the world to come.
Now, what does that expression mean? Let us look at it, analyze it, and see what it contains.
The companions of the saved in the eternal world, shall be all the believers who have ever lived on earth from the beginning to the end. The old soldiers, the old pilgrims, the old servants of Christ, the old members of Christ's family—all, in a word, who have lived by faith and served Christ, and walked with God, these shall form the company in which the saved shall spend an endless existence.
They shall see all the old worthies of whom they read in the Old Testament, the Patriarchs, the Prophets, and the holy kings, who looked forward to the coming of Christ, but died without seeing Him. They shall see the New Testament saints, the Apostles, and the holy men and women who saw Christ face to face. They shall see the early fathers who died for the truth, and were thrown to the lions, or beheaded under the persecution of the Roman emperors. They shall see the gallant Reformers who revived the Gospel out of the dust on the Continent, and unstopped the wells of living water which Rome had filled up with rubbish.
They shall see the blessed martyrs of our own land, who brought about the glorious Protestant Reformation, and gave the Bible to our countrymen in the English tongue, and cheerfully died at the stake for the cause of the Gospel. They shall see the holy men of the eighteenth century, Whitefield, and Wesley, Romaine, and their companions, who, in the face of bitter opposition, revived religion in the Church of England. Above all, they shall see their own friends who fell asleep in Christ, and whom they once followed to their graves with many tears, and see them with the comfortable thought that they shall part no more. Surely the thought of such companionship as this should cheer us as we travel on the narrow way! It is a good thing yet to come.
There is little happiness in company—unless there is entire sympathy and congeniality of taste. It is one of the heaviest trials of a true Christian upon earth—that he meets so few people who are entirely of one mind with him about religion. How often in society he finds himself obliged to hold his tongue and say nothing, and to hear and see many things which make his heart ache, and send him back to his own home heavy and depressed! It is a rare privilege to meet two or three occasionally to whom he can open his heart, and with whom he can speak freely, without fear of giving offence or being misunderstood. But there will be an end of this state of things, in the kingdom of heaven. Those who are saved will find none there—who have not been led by the same Spirit, and gone through the same experience as themselves.
There will not be a man or woman there—who has not felt deeply the burden of sin, mourned over it, confessed it, fought with it, and tried to crucify it. There will not be a man or woman there—who has not fled to Christ by faith, cast the whole weight of his soul upon Him, and rejoiced in Him as his Redeemer. There will not be a man or woman there—who has not delighted in the Word of God, poured out his soul in prayer at the throne of grace, and striven to live a holy life. In a word, there will be none there—who have not known something of repentance toward God, faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ, and holiness of life and conversation. It is pleasant to meet a few people of this kind on earth as we travel along the narrow way which leads to heaven. It refreshes us like a brook by the way, and is like a little peep within the veil. But what will it be when we see "a multitude, which no man can number," of saints completely delivered from all sin, and not one single unconverted person among them to mar the harmony!
What shall it be when we shall meet our own believing friends once more, at last made perfect, and find that their besetting sins, and our own besetting sins, have all passed away, and there is nothing left in us—but grace without corruption! Yet all this is to come when we pass within the veil. The inhabitants are not to be a mixed multitude unable to understand one another. They are all to be of one heart and of one mind. We are not to sit down amidst ignorant, godless, and unconverted people, but "with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven." Heaven itself would be no heaven if all sorts of characters got there—as some people falsely teach. There could be no order and no happiness in such a heaven. There must be fitness for "the inheritance of the saints in light" (Col. 1. 12).
(1) And now, reader, before you lay down this paper, ask yourself whether you shall be found among the many who shall "sit down in the kingdom of heaven." The question demands an answer. I charge you to give your soul no rest until you can answer it in a satisfactory way. Time is passing quickly away, and the world is growing old. The signs of the times ought to set us all thinking. "The distress of nations with perplexity" seems to increase every year. The wisdom of statesmen seems utterly unable to prevent wars and confusion in every direction. The progress of art, and science, and civilization appear entirely powerless to prevent the existence of enormous moral evils. Nothing will ever cure the diseases of human nature— but the return of the Great Physician, the Prince of Peace, the second coming of Jesus Christ Himself. And when He comes, shall you be found among the "many" who shall "sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven?"
Why should you not be found among the many? I know no reason except your own indolence and laziness, or your own determined love of sin and the world. An open door is before you! Why not enter into it? The Lord Jesus Christ is able and ready to save you—why not commit your soul to Him, and lay hold on the hand which He holds out from heaven? I repeat that I know no reason why you should not be found among the "many" at the last day.
You imagine that there is time enough, and no need of hurry or immediate decision. You had better take care what you are saying. It is not given to all men and women to live to eighty years, and then die quietly in their beds. The notice to leave this mortal body sometimes comes very suddenly, and men and women are summoned to go forth in a moment into the unseen world! You had better use time while you have it, and not make shipwreck on that miserable rock, "a convenient season."
Are you afraid that people will laugh at you, and mock you—if you begin to care for your soul, and to seek a place in the kingdom of heaven? Cast the cowardly feeling behind your back, and resolve never to be ashamed of religion. Alas! Where are too many who will find at last that they were laughed out of heaven—and laughed into hell! Fear not the reproach of man, who at most can only injure your body. Fear Him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell. Lay hold boldly on Christ—and He will give you the victory over all that you now fear. He who enabled the Apostle Peter, who once ran away and denied his Master, to stand firm as a rock before the Jewish council, and at length to die for the Gospel, the Lord I say is still living at the right hand of God, and is able to save to the uttermost all who come to God by Him, and to make you more than conqueror!
Do you think that you will not be happy if you seek to have your soul saved, and to sit down in the kingdom of heaven? Cast aside the unworthy thought as a lying suggestion of the devil. There are no people so truly happy as true Christians. Whatever a sneering world may please to say—believers have food to eat which the world knows not, and inward comforts which the world cannot understand. There is no gloominess in true religion, and no true religion in looking gloomy, sour, or austere. In spite of cross and conflict, the true Christian has an inward peace compared to which the world has nothing to give; for it is a peace which trouble, bereavement, sickness, and death itself cannot take away! The words of the Master are strictly true, "Peace I leave with you, My peace I give unto you: not as the world gives, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid" (John 14. 27). If men and women want to be truly happy, they should strive to be among those who "shall sit down in the kingdom of heaven."
(2) Last, but not least, let me wind up all by offering a word of exhortation and encouragement to those who have reason to hope that they are among the many who shall sit down in the kingdom of heaven.
Would you have much joy and peace in believing? Try to do all the good you can in the world. There is always much to be done, and few to do it. There are always many living and dying in ignorance and sin —and no one goes near them, and tries to save their souls. We live in days when there is little real Christian work done to mend the evils of the times! If all the Christians in all our churches laid themselves out to go among those who are without God in the world, with the Bible in their hands, and Christ-like loving sympathy in their hearts—they would soon be far happier than they are now—and the face of society would soon be changed. Idleness is one great cause of the low spirits of which so many complain. Too many, far too many Christians, seem quite content to go to heaven alone, and to care nothing about bringing others into the kingdom of God.
If you try to do good in the right way—you never need doubt that good will be done. Many a Sunday school teacher comes home on Sunday night with a heavy heart, and imagines that his or her labor is all in vain. Many a home visitor returns from his rounds, and thinks he is producing no effect. Many a minister comes down from his pulpit desponding and cast down, imagining that his preaching is to no purpose. But all this is disgraceful unbelief. There is often far more going on in hearts and consciences than we see.
He who "goes on his way weeping, bearing forth the seed; he shall come again with joy, bringing his sheaves with him" (Psalm 126:6). There are more being converted and saved than we suppose. "Many shall sit down in the kingdom of heaven" whom we never expected to see there. Let us read on, and pray on, and visit on, and speak on, and tell of Christ to everyone whom we can get at. If we are only "steadfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord," we shall find, to our amazement, that our labor was not in vain in the Lord. (1 Cor. 15:58).
But if we try to do good, we must always cultivate patience. We cannot have two heavens—a heaven here in this world—and a heaven hereafter. The battle is not yet over. The harvest-time is not yet come. The devil is not yet bound. The time when our Lord's promise shall be fulfilled, is not yet arrived. But it will arrive before long!
When the late Queen Victoria at the end of the Crimean war came forward, and with her own royal hands gave the Victoria Cross to the gallant soldiers who had earned it, that public honor made rich amends for all that those soldiers had gone through. The hardships of the trenches were all forgotten for the time, and seemed comparatively small things. What, then, will be the joy when the Captain of our salvation shall gather His faithful soldiers around Him, and give to each one a crown of glory which never fades away! Surely we may well wait in patience for that day. It is coming, and will surely come at last. Remembering that day, let us cast behind us doubts and unbelief, and set our faces steadily towards the new
Jerusalem. "The night is far spent, and the day is at hand." Not one word of the blessed promise before us shall fail! "Many shall come from the east and west—and shall sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven!"
Come!
by J. C. Ryle
"Come unto Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden—and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28.
The name of the tract before you is short—but the subject which that name unfolds is deeply important. It is the first word of a text of Scripture which deserves to be written in letters of gold. I offer that text to you as a friendly invitation: I entreat you to look at it, and ponder it well. That single text may be the salvation of your soul.
Our years are passing quickly away. As each successive stage of the year comes round, we hear of gatherings and invitations: Easter and Christmas are times when friends invite friends to come and see them. But there is one invitation which demands attention every day in the year—that invitation is the one which I bring you this day. It may be unlike any that you have yet received; but it is of unspeakable importance—it concerns the eternal happiness of your soul.
Reader, do not shrink back when you read these words. I do not want to spoil your pleasures, provided always that your pleasures are not mixed with sin. I know that there is a time to laugh, as well as a time to weep. But I do want you to be thoughtful—as well as happy; to consider—as well as to make mirth. There are some missing every Easter who a year before were alive and well; there are some every year gathering round Christmas fire-sides, who a year afterwards will be lying in their graves!
Reader, how long have you yourself to live? Will another Easter, or another Christmas find you alive? Once more I entreat you to listen to the invitations which I bring you this day. I have a message for you from my Master. He says, "Come unto Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden—and I will give you rest."
There are four points in the text before you, to which I ask your attention. On each of these I have something to say.
I. First. Who is the Speaker of this invitation?
II. Secondly. To whom is this invitation addressed?
III. Thirdly. What does the Speaker ask you to do?
IV. Lastly. What does the Speaker offer to give?
May the Holy Spirit bless the reading of this tract to your everlasting benefit. May this day be a day to be specially remembered in the history of your soul!
I. In the first place, Who is the Speaker of the invitation which heads this tract? Who is it that invites so freely—and offers so largely? Who is it that says to your conscience this day, "Come— come unto Me"?
Reader, you have a right to ask these questions. You live in a lying world. The earth is full of cheats, shams, deceptions, impostors, and falsehoods. The value of a promissory note depends entirely on the name which is signed at the bottom. When you hear of a mighty Promiser you have a right to say, Who is this? and what is His name?
The Speaker of the invitation before you is the greatest and best Friend that man has ever had. It is the Lord Jesus Christ, the eternal Son of God.
He is One who is almighty. He is God the Father's Fellow and equal; He is truly and fully God—by Him were all things made. In His hand are all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge; He has all power in heaven and earth; in Him all fullness dwells. He has the keys of death and hell. He is now the appointed Mediator between God and man— He will one day be the Judge and King of all the earth. Reader, when such a One as this speaks, you may safely trust Him. What He promises He is able to perform.
He is One who is most loving. He loved us so—that He left heaven for our sakes, and laid aside for a season, the glory which He had with the Father. He loved us so—that He was born of a woman for our sakes and lived thirty-three years in this sinful world. He loved us so—that He undertook to pay our mighty debt to God, and died upon the cross to make atonement for our sins. Reader, when such a One as this speaks—He deserves a hearing. When He promises a thing, you need not be afraid to trust him.
He is One who knows the heart of man most thoroughly. He took on Him a body like our own, and was made like man in all things, sin only excepted. He knows by experience what man has to go through. He has tasted poverty, and weariness, and hunger, and thirst, and pain, and temptation. He is acquainted with all our conditions upon earth; He has "suffered Himself being tempted." Reader, when such a One as this makes an offer, He makes it with perfect wisdom. He knows exactly what you and I need.
He is One who never breaks His word. He always fulfils His promises—He never fails to do what He undertakes. He never disappoints the soul that trusts Him. Mighty as He is, there is one thing which He cannot do—it is impossible for Him to lie. Reader, when such a One as this makes a promise, you need not doubt that He will stand to it. You may depend with confidence on His word.
Reader, you have now heard who sends you the invitation which is before you today. It is the Lord Jesus Christ. Give Him the credit due to His name—grant Him a full and impartial hearing. Believe that a promise from His month deserves your best attention—see that you refuse not Him who speaks. It is written, "If they escaped not who refused Him who spoke on earth—much more shall not we escape, if we refuse Him who speaks from heaven." (Heb. 12:25.)
II. I will now show you, in the second place, to WHOM the invitation before you is addressed.
The Lord Jesus addresses "all who labor and are heavy-laden." The expression is deeply comforting and instructive. It is wide, sweeping, and comprehensive. It describes the ease of millions in every part of the world.
Where are the laboring and heavy-laden? They are everywhere— they are a multitude that man can scarcely number; they are to be found in every climate, and in every country under the sun. They live in Europe, in Asia, in Africa, and in America; they dwell by the banks of the Seine, as well as the banks of the Thames; by the banks of the Mississippi as well as the banks of the Niger. They abound under republics as well as under monarchies; under liberal governments as well as under despotism. Everywhere you will find trouble, care, sorrow, anxiety, murmuring, discontent, and unrest. What does it mean? What does it all come to? Men are "laboring and heavyladen."
To what class do the laboring and heavy-laden belong to? They belong to every class—there is no exception. They are to be found among masters as well as among servants; among rich as well as among poor; among kings as well as among subjects; among learned as well as among ignorant people. In every class you will find trouble, care, sorrow, anxiety, murmuring, discontent, and unrest. What does it mean? What does it all come to? Men are "laboring and heavyladen."
Reader, how shall we explain this? What is the cause of the state of things which I have just tried to describe? Did God create man at the beginning to be unhappy? Most certainly not! Are human governments to blame because men are not happy? At most to a very slight extent. The fault lies far too deep to be reached by human laws. There is another cause, a cause which many unhappily refuse to see— that cause is SIN.
Reader, sin and departure from God, are the true reasons why men are everywhere laboring and heavy-laden. Sin is the universal disease which infects the whole earth. Sin brought in thorns and thistles at the beginning, and obliged man to earn his bread by the sweat of his brow; sin is the reason why the whole creation groans and travails in pain, and the foundations of the earth are out of course; sin is the cause of all the burdens which now press down mankind. Most men know it not, and weary themselves in vain to explain the state of things among them. But sin is the great root and foundation of all sorrow, whatever proud man may think. How much men ought to hate sin!
Reader, are you one of those who are laboring and heavy-laden? I think it very likely that you are. I am firmly persuaded that there are thousands of men and women in the world who are inwardly uncomfortable; and yet will not confess it. They feel a burden on their hearts, which they would gladly get rid of; and yet they do not know the way. They have a conviction that all is not right in their inward man, which they never tell to anyone. Husbands do not tell it to their wives, and wives do not tell it to their husbands; children do not tell it to their parents, and friends do not tell it to their friends; but the inward burden lies heavily on many hearts! There is far more unhappiness than the world sees! Disguise it as some will, there are multitudes uncomfortable because they know they are not prepared to meet God; and you, who are reading this tract, perhaps are one.
Reader, if you are laboring and heavy-laden, you are the very person to whom the Lord Jesus Christ sends an invitation this day. If you have an aching heart, and a sore conscience; if you want rest for a weary soul, and know not where to find it; if you want peace for a guilty heart, and are at a loss which way to turn; you are the man, you are the woman, to whom Jesus speaks today. There is hope for you. I bring you good tidings. "Come unto Me," says Jesus, "and I will give you rest."
You may tell me this invitation cannot be meant for you, because you are not good enough to be invited by Christ. I answer, that Jesus does not speak to the good, but to the laboring and heavy-laden. Do you know anything of this feeling? Then you are one to whom He speaks.
You may tell me that the invitation cannot be meant for you, because you are a sinner, and know nothing about religion. I answer, that it matters nothing what you are, or what you have been. Do you at this moment feel laboring and heavy-laden? Then you are one to whom Jesus speaks.
You may tell me that you cannot think the invitation is meant for you, because you are not yet converted, and have not got a new heart. I answer, that Christ's invitation is not addressed to the converted, but to the laboring and heavy laden. Is this what you feel? Is there any burden on your heart? Then you are one of those to whom Christ speaks.
You may tell me that you have no right to accept this invitation, because you do not know that you are one of God's elect. I answer, that you have no right to put words in Christ's mouth, which God has not used—He does not say, "Come unto Me, all you that are elect." He addresses all the laboring and heavy laden ones, without any exception. Are you one of them? Is there weight within on your soul? This is the only question you have to decide. If you are, you are one of these to whom Christ speaks.
Reader, if you are one of the laboring and heavy-laden ones, once more I entreat you not to refuse the invitation which I bring you today. Do not forsake your own mercies. The harbor of refuge is freely before you—do not turn away from it. The best of Friends holds out His hand to you—let not pride, or self-righteousness, or fear of man's ridicule, make you reject His offered love. Take Him at His word. Say to Him, "Lord Jesus Christ, I am one of those whom
Your invitation suits—I am laboring and heavy-laden. Lord, what will You have me to do?"
III. I will now show you in the third place, what the Lord Jesus Christ asks you to do. Three words make up the sum and substance of the invitation which He sends you today. If you are laboring and heavy-laden, Jesus says, "Come unto Me!"
Reader, there is a grand simplicity about the three words now before you. Short and plain as the sentence seems, it contains a mine of deep truth and solid comfort. Weigh it—look at it—consider it— ponder it well. I believe that it is one half of saving Christianity, to understand what Jesus means when He says, "Come unto Me."
Mark well, that the Lord Jesus does not bid the laboring and heavyladen "go and work." Those words would carry no comfort to heavy consciences—it would be like requiring labor from an exhausted man. No! He bids them "Come!" He does not say, "Pay Me what you owe." That demand would drive a broken heart into despair—it would be like claiming a debt from a ruined bankrupt. No! He says, "Come!" He does not say, "Stand still and wait." That command would only be a mockery—it would be like promising to give medicine at the end of a week to one at the point of death." No—He says, "Come!" Today; at once; without any delay, "Come unto Me!"
But, after all, what is meant by coming to Christ? It is an expression often used, but often misunderstood. Beware that you make no mistake at this point. Here, unhappily, thousands turn aside out of the right course, and miss the truth. Beware that you do not make shipwreck at the very mouth of the harbor.
Take notice, that coming to Christ means something more than coming to church and chapel. You may fill your place regularly at a place of worship; and attend all outward means of grace, and yet not be saved. All this is not coming to Christ.
Take notice, that coming to Christ is something more than coming to the Lord's table. You may be a regular member and communicant; you may never be missing in the lists of those who eat that bread and drink that wine, which the Lord commanded to be received, and yet never be saved. All this is not coming to Christ.
Take notice, that coming to Christ is something more than coming to ministers. You may be a constant hearer of some popular preacher, and a zealous partizan of all his opinions, and yet never be saved. All this is not coming to Christ.
Take notice, once more, that coming to Christ is something more than coming to the possession of head-knowledge about Him. You may know the whole system of Evangelical doctrine, and be able to talk, argue, and dispute on every jot of it, and yet never be saved. All this is not coming to Christ.
Coming to Christ is coming to Him with the heart by simple faith. Believing on Christ is coming to Him, and coming to Christ is believing on Him. It is that act of the soul which takes place when a man, feeling his own sins, and despairing of all other hope, commits himself to Christ for salvation, ventures on Him, trusts Him, and casts himself wholly on Him. When a man turns to Christ empty— that he may be filled; sick—that he may be healed; hungry—that he may be satisfied; thirsty—that he may be refreshed; needy—that he may be enriched; dying—that he may have life; lost—that he may be saved; guilty—that he may be pardoned; sin-defiled—that he may be cleansed; confessing that Christ alone can supply his need—then he comes to Christ. When he uses Christ as the Jews used the city of refuge, as the starving Egyptians used Joseph, as the dying Israelites used the brazen serpent; then he comes to Christ. It is the empty soul's venture on a full Savior; it is the drowning man's grasp on the hand held out to help him; it is the sick man's reception of a healing medicine. This, and nothing more than this, is coming to Christ.
Hearken, my beloved reader, whoever you may be, listen to a word of caution. Beware of mistakes as to this matter of coming to Christ. Do not stop short in any half-way house; do not allow the devil and the world to cheat you out of eternal life; do not suppose that you will ever get any good from Christ, unless you go straight, direct, thoroughly, and entirely to Christ Himself. Trust not in a little outward formality—content not yourself with a regular use of outward means. A lantern is an excellent help in a dark night, but it is not home. Just so, means of grace are useful aids, but they are not Christ. Oh, no! Press onward, forward, upward, until you have had personal, business-like dealings with Christ Himself.
Hearken again, my beloved reader. Beware of mistakes as to the manner of coming to Christ. Dismiss from your mind forever all idea of worthiness, merit, and fitness in yourself; throw away all notions of goodness, righteousness, and deserts. Do not think that you can bring anything to recommend you, or to make you deserving of Christ's notice. You must come to Him as a poor, guilty undeserving sinner, or you might just as well not come at all. "To him that works not but believes on Him that justifies the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness." (Romans 4. 5.) It is the peculiar mark of the faith which justifies and saves—that it brings to Christ nothing but an empty hand.
Hearken once more, my beloved reader. Let there be no mistake in your mind as to the special character of the man who has come to Christ, and is a true Christian. He is not an angel; he is not a half-angelic being, in whom is no weakness, or blemish, or infirmity —he is nothing of the kind. He is nothing more than a sinner who has found out his sinfulness, and has learned the blessed secret of living by faith in Christ. What was the glorious company of the apostles and prophets? What was the noble army of martyrs? What were Isaiah, Daniel, Peter, James, John, Paul, Polycarp, Chrysostom, Augustine, Luther, Ridley, Latimer, Bunyan, Baxter, Whitefield, Venn, Chalmers, Bickersteth, M'Cheyne? What were they all, but sinners who knew and felt their sins, and trusted only in Christ?
What were they, but men who accepted the invitation I bring you this day, and came to Christ by faith? By this faith they lived—in this faith they died. In themselves and their doings they saw nothing worth mentioning; but in Christ they saw all that their souls required.
Reader, the invitation of Christ is now before you. If you never listened to it before, listen to it today. Broad, full, free, wide, simple, tender, kind; that invitation will leave you without excuse if you refuse to accept it. There are some invitations, perhaps, which it is wiser and better to decline. There is one which ought always to be accepted—that one is before you today. Jesus Christ is saying, "Come —come unto Me!"
IV. I will now show you, in the last place—what the Lord Jesus Christ promises to give. He does not ask the laboring and heavy-laden to come to Him for nothing. He holds out gracious inducements; He allures them by sweet offers. "Come unto Me," He says, "and I will give you rest."
Rest is a pleasant thing. Few are the men and women in this weary world, who do not know the sweetness of it. The man who has been laboring hard with his hands all the week, working in iron, or brass, or stone, or wood, or clay; digging, lifting, hammering, cutting—he knows the comfort of going home on Saturday night, and having one day of rest. The man who has been toiling hard with his head all day; writing, copying, calculating, composing, sketching, planning—he knows the comfort of laying aside his papers and having a little rest. Yes—rest is a pleasant thing.
Rest is one of the principal offers which the world promises, "Come to me—and I will give you riches and pleasure." "Come with me," says the devil, "and I will give you greatest, power, and wisdom." "Come unto Me," says the Lord Jesus Christ, "and I will give you rest."
But what is the nature of that rest which the Lord Jesus promises to give? It is no mere repose of body. A man may have that and yet be miserable. You may place him in a palace, and surround him with every possible comfort; you may give him money in abundance, and everything that money can buy; you may free him from all care about tomorrow's bodily needs; and take away the need of laboring for a single hour—all this you may do to a man, and yet not give him true rest. Thousands know this too well by bitter experience. Their hearts are starving in the midst of worldly plenty; their inward man is sick and weary, while their outward man is clothed in purple and fine linen, and fares sumptuously every day! Yes—a man may have houses, and lands, and money, and horses, and carriages, and soft beds, and good fare, and attentive servants—and yet not have true rest!
The rest that Christ gives—is an inward thing. It is rest of heart, rest of conscience, rest of mind, rest of affection, rest of will. It is rest from a comfortable sense of sins being all forgiven and guilt all put away; it is rest from a solid hope of good things to come, laid up beyond the reach of disease, and death, and the grave; it is rest from the well-grounded feeling—that the great business of life is settled, its great end provided for, that in time all is well done, and in eternity heaven will be our home.
Rest such as this, the Lord Jesus gives to those who come to Him, by showing them His own finished work on the cross, by clothing them in His own perfect righteousness, and washing them in His own precious blood. When a man begins to see that the Son of God actually died for his sins, his soul begins to taste something of inward quiet and peace.
Rest such as this, the Lord Jesus gives to those who come to Him, by revealing Himself as their ever-living High Priest in heaven, and God reconciled to them through Him. When a man begins to see that the Son of God actually lives to intercede for him, he will begin to feel something of inward quiet and peace.
Rest such as this, the Lord Jesus gives to those who come to Him, by implanting His Spirit in their hearts, and witnessing with their spirits that they are God's children. They find that old things are passed away, and all things are become new. When a man begins to feel an inward drawing towards God as a father, and a sense of being an adopted and forgiven child, his soul begins to feel something of quiet and peace.
Rest such as this, the Lord Jesus gives to those who come to Him, by dwelling in their hearts as King, by putting all things within in order, and giving to each faculty its place and work. When a man begins to find order in his heart in place of rebellion and confusion, his soul begins to understand something of quiet and peace. There is no true inward happiness until the true King is on the throne.
Rest such as this, is the privilege of all believers in Christ. Some know more of it—and some less; some feel it only at distant intervals —and some feel it almost always; few enjoy the sense of it without many a battle with unbelief, and many a conflict with fear—but all who truly come to Christ, know something of this rest. Ask them, with all their complaints and doubts, whether they would give up Christ and go back to the world. You will get only one answer. Weak as their sense of rest may be, they have got hold of something which does them good, and that something they cannot let go.
Rest such as this, is within reach of all who are willing to seek it and receive it. The poor man is not so poor—but he may have it; the ignorant man is not so ignorant—but he may know it; the sick man is not so weak and helpless—but he may get hold of it. Faith, simple faith, is the one thing needful in order to possess Christ's rest. Faith in Christ is the grand secret of happiness! Neither poverty, nor ignorance, nor tribulation, nor distress can prevent men and women feeling rest of soul—if they will only come to Christ and believe.
Rest such as this, is the possession which makes men independent of all the fluctuations of life. Banks may break, and money make itself