What a moving picture. A town in France has been wrested from the Germans by our brave British soldiers. They march through the emancipated streets amid the sobbing and the shouting of those whom they have delivered. Rank after rank, with fixed bayonets, they pass along, and everywhere they are acclaimed. A proud day this for the victors—a proud day also for those who have been rescued. These grand soldiers have opened the gates of freedom for the oppressed. The oppressor has been defeated and has no more power over them.
What a picture of salvation! We, as sinners, were in the hands of an enemy far worse than the Germans. We were “led captive by the devil at his will,” we were the prey of the destroyer. There was no hope in our lives, and “we sat in darkness and the shadow of death.” But the day of our redemption came―we were not saved by an army―but by One. Not with the playing of joyful music and the shouting of rejoicing hosts, but our salvation came ‘mid darkness, storm and death. The cry of a breaking heart went up to heaven when we were redeemed. “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” Shouts of hatred and derision rose against the One who came to deliver us out of the hands of the devil.
The hand that was going to emancipate a lost world was nailed to a cross; and the love that felt for us as no other love could, had to find vent in the sublime petition sent to God in Heaven, by the Son of God crucified, “Father I forgive them, they know not what they do.” Yes, He died, “The Just for the unjust, to bring us to God.” We are saved by His death, we are healed by His stripes, rest comes to us through His weariness, and solace for our souls from His deep agony. He wept that He might wipe away our tears. He went through the dark gates of death, that He might open for us the portals of the skies. He paid for us, the vast indemnity that holiness and righteousness demanded as the price of our pardon. To save us, He took our place—bore the judgment of our sins-and bids us to believe on Him and be eternally saved.