But Will He Not Despise Me Now?

 •  8 min. read  •  grade level: 5
So said one a few hours before she died; still unconverted; but evidently beginning to turn round to the Lord. It was a moment of unspeakable interest. The eternal happiness or misery of an immortal soul quivered in the balances of truth.
She was a clever, reasoning, woman; and having been thrown at a certain period of her life amongst those who speak of Christ as nothing more than a mere man, she embraced, and with the natural activity of her mind, sought to spread the soul-ruining opinions of her new friends. The orthodox faith which affirms that the Lord Jesus Christ is both God and man in one person, she assumed to believe was false. Therefore, according to this fatal heresy, He could not be the Savior of her soul. She was now taught to trust in herself—in her good works, especially in works of charity—and in the general mercy of God for salvation. Strong feelings of opposition used to arise in her mind when she was told that nothing but the blood of Jesus Christ could cleanse away her sins, and fit her for heaven. The very thought of such a thing was rejected with scorn. “Never, no never, could I believe such a thing—I can’t; it’s impossible;” is the style of answer we have heard from such lips, even when apparently anxious about the future.
In conversing with such minds, we are made to feel that there is much more to contend with than the mere darkness or indifference of nature. There is the power of Satan who has blinded the mind, hardened the heart, and seared the conscience. He is in full possession of such souls. As in the case of Joshua the high priest, he stands at their right hand—the symbol of power—ready to resist every attempt to show them the truth, and every desire on their part to receive it. Painfully solemn things will sometimes he said by such; but we know where the blasphemy comes from, and can have patience with the ensnared soul and also deep compassion for its fearful state; faith sees it in the foul grasp of the fiend of hell, and knows that Jesus only can take the prey from the mighty.
But the time came while yet in the prime of life, that the one immediately before us must lie down and die. To human pride and an unbroken will this was disappointing and humiliating; but it could not be put off; it could not be avoided; disease was there and doing its work. No love, no kindness, no power on earth could stay its course; she must die, and die soon. The most terrible feelings came over her mind as to what might be after death. She could not persuade herself that she was prepared. Doubts filled and harassed her mind; all that she had been taught to trust in vanished as utterly worthless. Reasoning was now useless; it failed to satisfy her anxiety; she was as it were left alone in the dark; nothing to rest on; nothing to hold by; all refuge failed her; yet she could not receive the testimony of God to the all-sufficiency of the blood of Jesus—she could not bear to give the undivided glory of her salvation to one who was in her estimation nothing more than a Moses or an Elias. Yet she was convinced of sin, and that with her sins she could never enter into heaven; how to be pardoned and cleansed was the great question now.
“Only by the blood of Jesus Christ, God’s Son,” was the faithful reply, from a friend who stood at her bedside. “No, never will I bow to Him as God,” was the rebellious feeling of her heart. She refused; she was distressed; she was restless; death was near; what was to become of her? Again, she was told by the same friend, to look to Jesus as a lost, ruined, and hell-deserving sinner, and she would be saved at once—that God was ready beforehand with everything for her; but she must honor His Son as co-equal with Himself, in being, power, and glory. This was the one difficulty with her. To surrender her heart to Jesus as Savior and Lord, would be doing violence to every feeling of her nature; and would be giving the he to her past profession. No, she could not do it; and yet she sighed and groaned for something she needed but could nowhere find.
Day after day passed, and the mighty struggle increased. The friend referred to sent a written request to the meeting for prayer. It was so worded as to impress the importance of the case on all hearts. Earnest prayer was made night after night. And there, most probably, as in most cases —in the prayer-meeting—the answer came—the work was done. Still, the report was, “No hearty yielding yet to the name of Jesus; but increasingly anxious.” Satan was unwilling to let go his hold. Having beguiled the soul to the brink of hell, was he there to lose his prey? But faith too held a firm grasp; “Look to Jesus; confess Him as Savior and Lord; His blood cleanseth from all sin; and trust in Him alone, and all will be well;” were the encouraging words spoken to her. But we need not attempt to trace the different aspects of the terrible struggle during the last nine days of her life; it is with the closing scene we have now to do.
The Lord in mercy heard prayer; this was evident from her anxiety continuing. As the end drew near, her heart began to yield, the power of old associations became feebler, all outward things were passing away, she was more by herself before God. But can it be true that He is really God as well as man? she was now disposed to inquire. “Yes, Ο yes,” was the immediate answer given. “Look unto me,” He says Himself, “and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth, for I am God and there is none else.” He is a just God and a Savior. The Just died for the unjust, that He might bring us to God. What love! Mrs.—, Ο think of it! believe it! What love in God’s Son to come down from heaven to be a man and die—to die that we might live! All that is required for our salvation is done; we have only to look to Jesus—to look in the spirit of faith and dependence, and we are saved.
While she was being thus spoken to, the grace of God was at work in her soul. We believe the Lord had rebuked Satan; she was free, and ready now to receive the truth; still she was in darkness and doubt; but then came the never-to-be-forgotten dawning of an eternal day “But will He not despise me now?” This was, we doubt not, the cry of a breaking heart. The friend who stood by her bedside wisely answered: “If He despises you, you will be the first He has ever despised in this world.” This word of wondrous love broke the last link with her former self, and men and things. The work was done; she confessed the Lord Jesus. The thought of a love that could bear with so much disdainful pride and opposition—and so long —brought her to His feet in faith and love.
The friend who had been so interested in her now put the following plain questions: “Do you now really believe that Jesus is God?” “Yes, I do.” “And do you now really believe that His blood has cleansed all your sins away?” “Yes, I do.” She had great difficulty in speaking; the end was near; the Lord spared her about twenty-four hours; thus giving her a brief opportunity to confess her faith in the precious blood of Jesus, God’s Son, as the only way of salvation; and to own Jesus as Savior and Lord—her Lord and her God.
Yes! my dear reader, so did one live; so did one repent, believe, and die. Let men of all creeds and of all opinions hear it; and let men of no creed—of no religious opinion— if there be such, hear it; let the learned and the unlearned—the savage and the sage—hear it; nay, let the hell-inspired debaser of the Son of the ever blessed, hear it. Hear what? Hear this, “that if he despises thee, thou wilt be the first He has ever despised in this world.” But remember, that if thou shouldst despise, lightly esteem, or even neglect the Lord Jesus—the only Savior of sinners, thou must be lost—lost forever—lost in the fiery depths of hell. But how awful the reflection would be in that place of unmitigated woe, and how deep its agony—I am here for despising Him who never despised the chief of sinners even in the eleventh hour, or ever once spurned from His feet a penitent soul of Adam’s race. Now, just now, without delay, my dear reader, turn to the Lord, believe His word, and trust in Himself. “A broken and a contrite heart, Ο God, thou wilt not despise,” stands in the records of His ways with mankind. Hear, then, my dear reader, and believe it true; “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” “Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.” Psalm 51:17; Matt. 11:28; John 6:37.