Nobody can serve two masters, but everybody must serve one master. It is the greatest mistake possible to imagine that man is a free agent, and able to do his own independent pleasure. Man is a sinner—every man is a sinner, and
At conversion a man changes his master. He who once served sin, Satan, and pleasure, becomes a servant of Jesus Christ—to love, follow, serve, and obey Him who died for him on the cross, who lives for him in heaven, and who is soon coming to take him to His home of eternal glory.
On the deck of a battleship many years ago, stood a young man of noble birth, as men would say. The world smiled upon him and offered him of its best. His ship had cleared for action, and shot and shell were falling fast, hurling their victims in one moment into eternity.
Rapidly there passed before his mind the realities of life and death. Quick as thought the scales of conscience weighed out the respective values of time and eternity; of the world and Christ, and there on that deck his choice was made. He passed from the service of Satan, and ranged himself under the standard of the King of Kings.
What led him to this decision I cannot say. Whether the fear of impending death, the dread of judgment to come, or the terrors of an unknown hereafter, I know not. Did the burden of his own personal sins begin to weigh so heavily on his conscience that he was forced to flee for refuge to the Lord Jesus Christ?—this I cannot say. But one thing I know, he there and then trusted Christ for salvation, and stepped off that battleship a new creature in Christ.
He had made a new start in life, and enlisted under the banner of a new Master. Christ henceforth, and not the world, became his all absorbing object. For many years after this he devoted himself indefatigably to His blessed service, renouncing altogether the empty pomp’s and pleasures of this poor passing world.
O worldly pomp and glory,
Your charms are spread in vain,
I’ve found a deeper pleasure
I’ve found a truer gain;
Where Christ my place prepareth,
There is my blest abode,
There shall I gaze on glory,
There shall I dwell with God.
Early in his Christian life he had occasion to pass through L., and wrote to a relative asking if he might stay the night on his way.
“Certainly,” was the reply, the letter adding, while he would be welcome, there happened that night to be a great dinner party, which to him, with his changed life, might prove distasteful; but it went on to say he might, if he preferred, remain in his own apartments, and not appear at the dinner.
This kind thoughtfulness on the part of his relative seemed just to suit the visitor’s taste, so settling himself down to a quiet evening all by himself, he was looking forward to some hours of feeding upon the Bread of Life, and reading what had now become to him the Book of books.
Suddenly the thought of his own selfishness flashed before him. He said to himself:
“Are you not in all probability the only one beneath this roof who could point a single one of that gay and worldly company to Christ? And yet you are going to selfishly sit down and enjoy yourself.” In a moment his decision was made; he sent word that he would join the party at dinner.
It fell to him to take in to dinner a young lady just “come out.” She was extremely pretty, but worldly to a degree, the most frivolous of that glittering company. How was he to approach such an one on the solemn subject of the soul? Trembling from head to foot, as he conducted her along the corridor, he blurted out something to her about Christ and her soul’s salvation. What he said he could scarcely remember, but the effect upon the young lady seemed disastrous. She turned away with scorn and contempt.
O, that long interminable dinner! Would it never come to an end? Would the floor not open to receive him? Could he not escape from the brilliantly lighted hall? For the rest of that evening not one look did she give him, not one word did she address to him.
At length he got to his own room, and there flung himself on his knees, and prayed to God to undo the mischief that his mistaken zeal had effected. Glad, too, he was to take his departure the following day.
Months passed, when one day he received an urgent message to come and see this very lady. As he entered the room where she lay, now nearing eternity, she stretched out her hand, saying:
“I could not die without seeing you, and begging your pardon for the rude and disgraceful way I treated you that night. I hated you for what you said. But O! I want to tell you that your words stuck to me, and God has used them to bring me to Himself. Go on with your blessed work for there are many moving in society, who, beneath a frivolous exterior, hide an aching heart. You may be laughed at and despised—but go on—go on!”
Christian reader, Christ is not only your Saviour, but your Master. Serve Him all the time, and be ever ready to drop a word, for we never can tell “whether shall prosper, either this or that.” Sow thy seed.
Does an anxious, troubled soul read these lines? We point you here and now to the Lord Jesus Christ, once crucified by man, now glorified by God. Through His name forgiveness of sins is preached to all who will believe.