WE read in the book of Esther, that whosoever ventured uninvited into the presence of the sovereign of Persia was put to death, unless the king held out the golden scepter to the intruder; this was the signal of his safety. On a certain occasion Esther the queen, at the peril of her life, approached the king unbidden, who graciously extended the scepter towards her, and thus delivered her from death.
When one thinks of the holiness, majesty and glory of God, and the wretched, ruined, sinful state of man, it seems impossible that the latter should ever get into the divine presence; yet the gospel reveals that the scepter, held in the hand of the King of heaven, is, in this day of grace, favorable to the sinner. He holds it for the purpose of giving life and peace to every one who seeks an interview with Him.
None could enter the presence of the Eastern king uninvited without incurring the penalty of death; but inspiration assures us that none can come to God today without obtaining eternal life; that, instead of holding aloof from man, and leaving him to perish, His invitation has gone out to every sinner beneath the sun— “Come!” and “him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out.”
If it is strange intelligence to you that God gives a hearty welcome to a sinner, know that the explanation is found in the fact that He is seated on a blood-sprinkled throne; the blood of Jesus is before Him in all its untold value and preciousness, the sign of a perfect, sinless life offered up for the salvation of a ruined world; and while this is so it is impossible that He could do other than extend the golden scepter—signal of acceptance—towards every perishing sinner that flees to Him. Do you not know, my reader, that Christ’s blood was shed to enable God to do this, and that He is acting righteously towards His Son in receiving and forgiving sinful men?
The mighty monarch, whose kingdom reaches from India to Ethiopia, sits upon his royal throne, in the royal house, on the third day.
In her apartments Queen Esther sits, troubled and perplexed. Her own fate and that of her nation trembles in the balance, for the king’s commandment has gone forth for the destruction of the Jewish nation, of which she is a member.
An audience with the king is absolutely necessary, yet how shall she obtain one? The inflexible law of the Persians condemns to death whosoever enters the royal presence uncalled. What shall she do? If she goes not in, she dies; if she enters, she dies; unless—and here is a gleam of hope—unless the monarch exercises his prerogative, and pardons the intrusion. Her mind is made up; she will venture into the august presence unbidden. “If I perish, I perish,” she says, and, rising up, she enters the royal house, and draws near to him. The king’s eye falls upon her. It is a fateful moment. Shall she live or die? Her eager gaze is fixed upon the scepter in the king’s hand. Will it move towards her? Ah, yes! See! in kingly condescension he stretches it towards the trembling intruder. She touches it; all is well. Esther is safe.
Sinner, you need not hesitate to go into the presence of heaven’s great King. There the question of life or death has not to be decided; there is no uncertainty as to the issue of that interview. Life only is to be found there.
It is true that Sinai’s law pronounces a terrible curse upon every transgressor. It is true also that you have violated that law, and merited that curse. But come with me for a moment to the place where Jesus died. There, on that accursed tree, the Son of God bore the curse that you might live and not die.
Men looked at that cross, and saw a Man dying the death of a criminal. God looked, and beheld His beloved Son suffering shame and enduring judgment in the stead of sinful man. Then from that cross went up to heaven a mighty plea for sinners; it reached the ears of the God of Light, and was forthwith answered by the rending of the veil. The gates of the heavenly paradise were thenceforth open to a lost world.
The throne of judgment is converted into a throne of grace. From the lips of the God of love proceeds the sweet word, “COME.” Its sound reaches to the uttermost parts of the earth; it penetrates the hearts of myriads of fallen men and women. Hope springs up where despair had reigned. It is life instead of death; blessing instead of cursing; salvation in place of judgment. Wonderful news! Listen, ye travelers towards a lost eternity,
GOD RECEIVES SINNERS!
Oh, my readers, believe it! You will never perish by going to Him. You will perish if you don’t. Esther had only a faint hope that Ahasuerus might spare her life. There is a divine certainty that you will be accepted by God. His truth and righteousness stand pledged to receive you. However much you may have merited His wrath, you will find nothing but mercy. Though your sins are as scarlet, you will leave His presence whiter than snow.
Yes, wonderful as it may appear, it is perfectly true that, today the presence of God is the only refuge and place of safety for the sinner. An earthly law may guard the presence of an earthly potentate from the intrusion of unbidden subjects; but the holy presence of the King of heaven is open to all. This dispensation is God’s great reception-day. Sinners are invited to approach Him. Have you had an audience with Him yet? Have you drawn near and touched the golden scepter held out so lovingly to you by the God you have sinned against? In plain language, Have you ever come to Him in the quiet and privacy of your chamber, and told Him what a poor, ruined wreck of a sinner you are, but that your trust is in the Saviour’s blood? If you have, then you have touched the scepter; you are saved.
But, alas! millions still distrust God, and avoid having to do with Him as they would avoid death itself.
Oh, ye despairing sinners, did ye never read those marvelous words in 2 Cor. 5:20— “Be ye reconciled to God”?
Who is the pleader here? Man with God? Nay, God with man. It is not the rebel seeking reconciliation with the offended king, but the offended God beseeching the rebel to be reconciled to Him. It is not the sinner beseeching God, but God beseeching the sinner. It is strangely wonderful, and how little understood. But this is grace, dear reader—the grace of God towards a lost world. Have you obeyed the gracious summons? If you have not, be persuaded and come at once. “My sins! my sins!” you exclaim. Ah, you forget the BLOOD! “The holiness of God is so infinite and unchanging,” you say. True; but the BLOOD is before Him, that precious blood whose value is equal to the infinite claims of His holiness. He whose righteousness demanded such a sacrifice ere the great sin question could be settled, has delivered a mighty testimony to its value in the gracious welcome He accords to every returning prodigal.
Myriads have fled to that place where, but for the blood, judgment must have met them; but instead of judgment they have found the scepter in God’s holy hand pointing towards them, blessed symbol of all-powerful mercy, of forgiving love exercised in righteousness. The blood of Jesus has put it there, and the blessed God finds His happiness in extending that scepter towards every sinner who approaches Him, hating and confessing his sins, and trusting to the blood.
Queen Esther came before the king attired in her royal apparel. She stood before him in what belonged to her. She appeared before the throne in her proper character. She knew the haughty Ahasuerus well, and had evidently weighed over in her mind what was likely to touch his heart, and the sequel proved how wisely she had acted. As the lovely intruder stood there, robed in the rich attire of royalty, Ahasuerus looked towards her. Forthwith he recognized his beautiful queen, and the scepter straightway made the longed-for movement.
You, my fellow-sinner, if you desire salvation, must come before God in your proper character—that of a sinner. You must appear before Him in what belongs to you—your sins. Do not seek to be what you are not. Go not in the way of Cain, who approached God with a gift, ignoring the fact that he was a sinner, and that divine righteousness demanded satisfaction, Make not the mistake of the Pharisee, who, when he came into God’s, temple, thanked Him that he was not as other men were. Come to Him this moment just as you are, a lost one, with nothing but your sins and your need, and God will look at you and will say, That is a poor sinner for whom my Son died, and pardon will instantly be yours.
W. H. S.