THE hot July sun was shining in a cloudless sky; hardly a breeze stirred, as I walked down one of the busy streets in St. Helier’s. One after another passed me, some laughing, some swearing, some full of business, others bent upon pleasure, but all speeding on to eternity. The busy part of the town was soon left for a bye street, and I stopped at a small inn and walked into the tap-room.
“Does B— live here?” I asked of a neat-looking woman.
“Yes, sir, you will find him upstairs; but he is very ill,” she replied.
“A friend sent me here who thought he might like to see me and have a chat, and then, you see, I have been two years on the sea myself, so I can meet him like an old sailor.”
I was soon shown up the sanded staircase, and passed into a large, upper room. As I entered, the poor sailor for whom I was praying met my gaze. He was a pleasing-looking young man, but very thin, and with a bright hectic flush on his face. He lay on his bed, where he had been for two long years, unable to move, his complaint being violent and continued rheumatism. By his side was a table, with a dirty-looking pipe upon it, and on his bed, a low weekly paper. His appearance was painful to witness. No smile of joy, no beam of hope—but dark and wretched; in fact, I could only say to myself, “even as others which have no hope.”
“A sufferer, I see, my friend,” I said, as I sat down by his side; and, after a few kind words, I asked him to tell me a little of his past life. His confidence was won, and he told me how he had served on board a man-of-war, and while on the coast of Newfoundland, had taken a chill which he had neglected; violent pains had seized him, and from the hospital at Halifax he had come home some few years back, a helpless cripple, thoroughly broken in health. “And here I am, sir, much worse, and with no hope of getting better.”
“And now, dear fellow, tell me,” I said, “how about eternity? Are you ready to meet God?” He winced under the question, turned his head away, and a cloud shadowed brow; he could not answer me.
“How about all those sins, dear fellow, those numbers of sins you have committed?”
“I have done my best,” he burst out, “have done my best,” and he paused.
“But you are afraid to meet God like that and eternity is before you, and you speeding on to it.”
His face flushed, he breathed hard, and then, unable to restrain himself, he burst into a flood of tears, moaning, “I want to be reconciled to God. Oh! I want to be reconciled to God.”
“Thank God for that,” broke from his lips; “that is a cry of need. It is your sins that trouble you,” I said, “those black sins that stick to you, and which are dragging you to hell; you feel you cannot meet God as you are, and now they are a barrier between you and God. Now, listen, and I will tell you how, as a God of light, God revealed His love. I mean how God, who is infinitely pure and holy, shows His love to a sinner. Come with me, some eighteen hundred years back, to a scene outside Jerusalem.” My friend was now listening most intently. “Do you see three crosses? Look at those on either side, a malefactor hangs on each of these; they deserved to be there; look at the middle one, Who is that? It is one who has done nothing amiss—who is He? God’s only begotten, dearly-beloved Son, in the form of man, without sin, a sinless one. He trod this earth, and the path He trod—blessing and curing, healing and bringing to life as He passed on—led Him to that cross, and there He hung; on Him were laid our sins, and for us He was punished, and there, by the sacrifice of Himself, He put them away, removing forever out of God’s sight and remembrance, that which now troubles you, and which stood between us and God, like a barrier.
“‘God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’ (John 3:1616For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. (John 3:16).) The work was all done when He died; but God raised Him, and seated Him at His own right hand, and now, as one who knows Him as my Saviour, I have come to beseech you, in His stead, to be reconciled to God. Why, you say? ‘For He hath made Him to be sin for us, who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him’ (2 Cor. 5:2121For he hath made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin; that we might be made the righteousness of God in him. (2 Corinthians 5:21)).”
After praying I left my friend, promising to send him a text for his wall, and to call again in two days. As promised, I called, but what a change! The dirty pipe gone, the newspaper not to be seen, and instead the large text on the wall, and on the bed a hymnbook and opened Bible. Look, too, at his face; all care has vanished, and in its place is a sweet smile of peace.
“Oh, sir!” he cried out, “I am now reconciled, quite reconciled to God. Christ did it all, and He is my Saviour.”
I sat by his side, the tears of joy dimmed both our eyes; with his thin hand in mine, he said, “After you left I thought it all over; I saw I could do nothing to put away my sins, which kept me from God, and then I thought, God is love. He loves me. He gave Jesus to die for me because He so loved me, and Jesus has done it all. Oh! Jesus, I said, Thou art mine, and at that moment, raptures filled my heart, and I felt the load fall off. Yes, sir, I felt it fall right off, and it is all right.” We could both praise God now, and so we did. What light! what love!
I soon after left the island to preach in the adjoining one; another visit assured me it was all right, and we parted, but to meet again. Three months passed by, and still his poor body held out, but he was fading away, like a cloud passing away for the glory to shine; he had no doubts, his only anxiety was for his sister’s conversion.
One day a dear evangelist, who was preaching in the island, called upon him. “I am going to my Saviour,” the dying young man said, “to be with the Lord, to enjoy His presence,” and his frail body shook as he laughed for real joy.
No clouds crossed his sky now, already he could dimly see the glory, and soon would know more of the love of that One who did not spare His own Son, but freely gave Him up for us all.
Dear reader, may I ask you, are you ready to meet God?
“Abba, Father! we adore Thee,
While the hosts in heaven above,
E’en in us now learn the wonders
Of Thy wisdom, grace, and love.
Soon before Thy throne assembled,
All Thy children shall proclaim
Abba’s love as shown in Jesus,
And how full is Abba’s name!”
W.S.W.