THERE is only One who can truly say “I will give you rest,” and this could not be truly said were He not divine.
No mere human being, as creature, can say to his fellow “I will give you rest”; there must be a greatness in the Person so speaking which no creature can possess. We have never heard of any religion which gives rest, though it is quite true that “the Church,” as Rome calls herself, offers to such as submit to her authority rest from perplexity and doubt. But rest of heart, of conscience, rest in view of death, of God’s judgment, of one’s own sins, rest in the love of a Person who is our Friend, no Church professes to bestow. A very great deal of what is called “rest” by the Church referred to has to be bought in one way or other; it knows very little of giving, because it is human.
Jesus Himself offers rest to us, and He Himself says “Come unto Me, and I will give you rest.” We have to go to Him, Himself, for this priceless reward. It is entirely a personal matter: Jesus personally gives the rest—we personally receive it. Such as have gone to Him, as He says, have the rest. Others may say, “We do not credit the possession of rest,” because they have it not, and no one can truly declare what the rest is save he who has it. The evidence that we have the rest lies within our own hearts and consciences.
Let our reader look carefully into these familiar words, “Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest,” and ask Himself whether he has had the personal dealings with Christ the words prove to be necessary. “Come unto Me”! Think of Christ in His divine glory, in His human tenderness―think of Him as now, at this moment, looking into your heart, and as speaking these very words to you yourself, and be personal with yourself as you meditate upon His saying.
Rest is offered to you for time, for eternity, rest in the full view of your sins, and in the full sense of Christ’s cross; how have you treated these words of Jesus, “Come unto Me”?