I WAS on my way to a distant village to preach the gospel to sinners, and on arriving at the Station, found I was a little before time, but there was a great number of people there before me, and as the time approached when the little door was to be lifted and the tickets handed through the aperture, the place was densely thronged by the eager crowd, pressing and pushing, impatient to get the first turn. Knowing the train would not go without us, I stood aside, content to take my turn when the crush had ceased, and as we had to wait some five minutes more I had time to meditate a little upon the scene before me.
I could not help contrasting this eager, impatient crowd, waiting at that little narrow aperture, to purchase a ticket to enable them to reach their destination, with the door of life, which God has opened for the reception of all who would enter His home and rest—for all Who would accept eternal life as His gift.
Each traveler had an object before him, and to attain that was content to bear the pressure before and behind, rather than be defeated of his purpose, and in more than one case, where a little advantage was gained, the angry flush was seen upon the countenance. It seemed surprising how much inconvenience that impatient crowd could bear, till it pleased the man behind the little door to lift his panel and satisfy the demands of his earnest spectators.
I say the contrast was striking as to eternal things, for God by His servant declares when He opened His door, that, instead of an eager multitude waiting and pressing to enter in, there was not one—not even seeking after Him; so that if He is to have one guest at His banquet-board, He must Himself seek the sinner.
How little man thinks about God, or what God has done for him in order to save him, is apparent everywhere I go. Man thinks of himself, and if he thinks of death, and it strikes a terror into his soul, he tries to soothe himself by making the best of it. Even Railway Companies, while offering to carry people at a very low rate to some place where they may spend a few fleeting hours of pleasure, put up the startling intelligence that they may not reach the place. Many things might occur on a journey: a collision, or the train might be run off the rails, and death may make a terrible havoc of the holiday folk; but then, on the payment of a trifle, a large sum of money shall be paid to the survivors.
There was that little tablet with its three lines of figures for its different classes of insurances placed just before the small opening, where you had to stoop to gain a view of the man behind, so near to your gaze that you could not help seeing it. It seemed to me a warning, and told me of the uncertainty of life; how frail, how short, yet how little cared for! One young man who was traveling my way, looked at the figures on the little placard, and after receiving his ticket, put down two pence for an insurance ticket, and with the forethought of a man of business, put the ticket into an envelope, directed it with his pencil, and dropped it into the box on the platform, and observing "that if he were killed, his friends would have a nice round sum.”
“Wasn't I going to take an insurance ticket?" he asked.
“Oh no," I said, "I am not expecting an accident, or I would not go. I put my trust in God to give us traveling mercies. I look to Him to give the driver and the guard wisdom and care; and when I know I am in my right path, I can sit as quietly here as at home.”
Who can tell how much God is caring for that train full of passengers, because there is one—perhaps only one—of His children on some errand of mercy; or, it may be that God allows the collision because a disobedient child is there whose conscience has to be reached in discipline. Is a disobedient Jonah asleep? the whole ship shall creak, and the whole crew be affrighted by the pressure of the storm that is raging around. It takes a great storm to arouse some consciences.
That little tablet, like a host of other things, tells of want of faith in the living God. Did any trust Him without a full and gracious answer to his soul?
On taking my seat, I found the compartment not only had its compliment of passengers, but an undue quantity of luggage, which would have been much safer with the man in the break-van, but the owners would on no account part with their boxes and parcels. For my own part in natural things, and divine things, too, I like to have a free, unencumbered spirit; and if I must have luggage, I put it under the seat, or over-head, or trust it to him whose business it is to care for travelers. Sometimes in my journeyings I fall in company with a traveler who has so many boxes—every one of which may be marked, "SELF, WITH CARE," that is a positive burden to be long in his company. I feel it to be so, because, through God's grace, all my luggage, comprising sin, self, and care, is behind in the left-luggage room. Ah! no, blessed be God, it is more than that, it is like the useless rubbish in the "Unclaimed Department," which is all cleared out and consumed after a time. The cross has made an end of me and my belongings. Did I say useless? ah, worse than that, the burden was positively contagious. And what is so contagious as sin? Therefore it had to be burned up. So I say, with a thankful heart, it is all gone. I don't want to go to that "left luggage" office to look after my loathsome luggage. It would not even be remembered, as God says, "Thy sins and thine iniquities will I remember no more.”
I sometimes fall in with a dear christian who is surrounded with such a variety of boxes and parcels, that there is no getting near him. Haven't you sometimes sought a little intercourse with a christian, and found that to get at his heart, you have to cut through a host of bundles? Sometimes it is through a row of houses, or it may be a growing business, or a great cash box; things that not only fill the heart, but the hands, too, so that you can scarcely get even a brotherly salutation. There are times when these things demand attention, and there are times when the packages should be laid on the shelves; for says the apostle, "I would have you without carefulness." I like the simple faith of an old christian in the country, who, when speaking of circumstances, said, "God knows every slice of bread and butter I shall want." That is the sort of company I like to travel in, and that is what I call traveling on the "high level." The reason, perhaps, of so much perplexity of heart, and sorrow, too, is because we will travel on the "low level." All these things bring so vividly before my mind the condition and position of the believer in Christ, whose conscience is clear, whose heart is free: the one by the work of Christ, the other by the person of Christ.
Poor heavy-burdened christian, let me bring another illustration before your gaze. Look at that strong porter with his huge luggage basket and trolly—why, dear me, it receives all the luggage that is in the van, and see how easily he bears it away to the appointed place. Does not that bring before your mind the gracious care of Him who cares for and watches over you with a Father's thoughtful care? He who bears up "the world, and they that dwell therein," will He sink beneath your tiny bit? Trust Him! and you shall rejoice in a freed spirit. And you, poor sinner, do you like the heavy bale of sin and sins so much that you don't want to get rid of them? On the cross, where Jesus atoned for sin by the sacrifice of Himself, He was the sin-bearer. Was your portion borne there? or is it left for that day when it will have to be claimed? Some men's sins go on before to judgment, and some follow after, says the Word of God. Where are yours? You may forget them, but God cannot, and in that searching day they will be brought to light, and however carefully packed all will be seen, and if you do not believe in the name of the only-begotten Son of God, you and yours will have to be consumed in the fire which never can be quenched; for if you have to do with God out of Christ you will find Him a consuming fire. But He desires not the death of a sinner, and in order that you might not perish, He gave up His Son to the death of the cross.
Sometimes, when I want to be perfectly free from personal luggage when going on a long journey, I send it all on before, so that all I have to do is to step in and to step out; what a precious thought is that! I stept in at first through God's grace, and am borne along by His almighty power and grace He caring for me in all my need throughout the journey, and when shall have come its end, it will be stepping out, just one step out of a scene of death and sorrow, and darkness and sin, into the presence of the Lord, where there is fullness of joy and pleasures for evermore, sin left behind, consumed and gone; hopes and affections packed up and gone before—the affections set upon Him who fills all heaven with His glory. This reminds me of an old writer who years ago sang,
"What have I here? My thoughts and joys
Are all packed up and gone,
My eager soul would follow them
To Thine eternal throne.
What have I in this barren land?
My Jesus is not here;
Mine eyes will ne'er be blest until
My Jesus cloth appear.
My Jesus is gone up to heaven
To get a place for me,
For 'tis His will that where He is,
There should His servants be.
I have a God that changeth not,
Why should I be perplexed?
My God, that owns me in this world,
Will own me in the next.
My dearest friends they dwell above, -
Them will I go to see;
And all my friends in Christ below
Will soon come after me.”
Whither are you going, reader? on what line do you travel—upward or downward? it must be one or the other. If you are called away, will it be true of you that there is that left behind in the left-luggage office which you must claim, and which will be consumed with you? Solemn though! May you accept what God is giving so freely, that is, eternal life through faith in His beloved Son, for he that believeth on the Son of God, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into judgment.
The day of the great white throne will be a searching one. Everything will be brought to light-all the hidden things of darkness will be revealed. Not an action will escape the scrutinizing eye of Him who sits upon that throne. What will avail the filthy rags of self-righteousness for a covering? There will be no mistake as to whose are the works. Yours will not be mistaken for another's—nor another's for yours. If to stand before the highest judges of the land, at an earthly tribunal, would make you tremble, how much more will the heart quail when summoned before that terrible throne? I only desire to bring the solemnity of it before you, that you may accept God's salvation, and find in Him a Savior instead of a Judge. He is not going to bring those into judgment whose sins and judgment He bore away. They shall share with Him a glorious eternity.
Let me ask you to read the following solemn words: "And I saw a great white throne, and him that sat on it, from whose face the earth and the heaven fled away; and there was found no place for them. And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; and the books were opened; and another book was opened, which is the book of life: and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works. And death and hell were cast into the lake of fire. This is the second death. And whosoever was not found written in the book of life was cast into the lake of fire." (Rev. 20:11-1511And I saw a great white throne, and him that sat on it, from whose face the earth and the heaven fled away; and there was found no place for them. 12And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; and the books were opened: and another book was opened, which is the book of life: and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works. 13And the sea gave up the dead which were in it; and death and hell delivered up the dead which were in them: and they were judged every man according to their works. 14And death and hell were cast into the lake of fire. This is the second death. 15And whosoever was not found written in the book of life was cast into the lake of fire. (Revelation 20:11‑15))
That is the solemn portion of all who reject Christ. May you, dear reader, not be found among those who shall be summoned there in that great and terrible day. Turn not away from Him that speaks from heaven, who bids you look to Him and be saved; and that you may know that your name is written in the Lamb's book of life. What quietness of heart there is when the word of God is relied on and trusted in. "The beloved disciple" in his epistle says in conclusion: "This is the record, that God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. He that hath the Son hath life; and he that hath not the Son of God hath not life." (1 John 5:11, 1211And this is the record, that God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. 12He that hath the Son hath life; and he that hath not the Son of God hath not life. (1 John 5:11‑12).)