THERE is a superstition in some of the northern counties of England that a person cannot die comfortably if there is a pigeon’s feather in his pillow; and many a dying man, ere now, has had his pillow changed by those who have watched his last hours, in hope that they could thereby remove the disturbing thing.
Perhaps you are inclined to smile at the folly of such people, or at least to pity their ignorance or stupidity. But wait a moment. This is not the only popular delusion in connection with the bed of the dying. Here is another, and one far worse in its effects upon others. Many people consider that if a man dies “peacefully,” as it is called—that is, without restless tossings or any outward sign of excruciating pain, such as distortion of countenance and the like—he has certainly gone to heaven. Yet if we take our stand on the truth of Scripture, there is no more ground for one thought than for the other. Both are delusions. Indeed, it is not of the righteous, but of the wicked, not of those who die in the Lord, but of those who die in their sins, that it is said, “They have no bands in their death” (Psa. 73:44For there are no bands in their death: but their strength is firm. (Psalm 73:4)).
It is well to remember that there may be two causes of outward uneasiness, one through physical pain, the other through smarting of conscience; one because of the state of a dying body, the other because of the state of an undying soul, and this in view of its entering into the immediate presence of God. “The spirit shall return unto God who gave it” (Eccl. 12:77Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it. (Ecclesiastes 12:7)).
It is related of Sir Walter Raleigh, that when his executioner gave him the choice of position on the block on which he was to be beheaded, he said, “It matters little in which direction my head falls, if my heart is right.” When Richard Baxter, the author of those two God-used little books, Calls to the Unconverted and The Saints’ Everlasting Rest, was dying, he said to one who visited him, “I have pain, for there is no arguing against one’s senses, but I have peace, I HAVE PEACE.” With intense bodily suffering he had the calmest, sweetest rest of heart and conscience, for he had Christ.
And should the writer or reader of these lines be called to die before this year is out, it will matter very little what his body may be, passing through, and still less what kind of pillow his head may be placed upon. If Christ is His, through faith in His precious blood there will be no stain on his conscience, and, through the knowledge of the God who provided such a Saviour and gave such a gift, no fear in his heart. All, all will be well.
“It is growing dark, mother, growing dark,” said a dying child in Yorkshire, “but Jesus is lighting me through.” Happy homegoing!
But what must it be to be without Him at such a moment? If still a stranger to this blessed and (to those who know Him) never-absent Friend, take timely advice, and seek to make His acquaintance at once.
“’Tis Jesus, ’tis Jesus, our Saviour from above,
’Tis Jesus, ’tis Jesus, ’tis Jesus whom we love.”
“Seek ye the Lord while He may be found, call ye upon Him while He is near.” No other friend can say what He can say, “I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.” And this He does say to the one who trusts Him. Blessed Saviour!
In conclusion note this. You may depart with an agonizing physical struggle, yet go to be with Christ notwithstanding. You may “die easy,” as men speak, and wake in hell! Nay, if you die without Christ, whether on the lap of luxury or on the hard stones of a public thoroughfare, as God is true, your doom will be as inevitable as it will be unalterable. Oh, what a thorn in your pillow will the thought of unforgiven sins prove to be; but the sharpest thorn of all will be the remembrance of slighted grace. God save my reader from such an end. Fall down before Him at once and through Christ and His all-availing sacrifice seek His mercy.
“Jesus can make a dying bed
As soft as downy pillows are,
While on His breast I lay my head
And breathe my life out sweetly there.”
GEO. O.