A man was very ill. Many times a clergyman had read to him the prayers for the sick; he had told the sick man that he was a great sinner. But the clergyman himself did not know God's love to sinners! How could he say aught to make the poor man less miserable?
The preacher's visit was repeated several times, but the sick man received no comfort; he could only groan under his load of sins. Weighted down, he longed for comfort and relief. Hoping for a word of encouragement, he sent his son one Sunday morning to fetch the clergyman on his way from church.
“It is no use for me to go," said he. "Your father never seems to feel any better.”
“Please, sir," answered the boy; "Father said I must not go back without you.”
“Well, I'll take my sermon and read it to him," he decided.
He found the sick man in great distress about his soul; but with a cheery greeting he said, "I've brought my sermon to read to you." Seating himself, he began reading the text, that beautiful one in Isa. 53, fifth verse: "But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon Him; and with His stripes we are healed.”
“Wait!" called out the dying man. "Read that again, sir. 'Wounded for our transgressions.' Then He was wounded for mine! I have it!" he exclaimed. "'Bruised for my iniquities.' Why didn't you tell me that before, sir? But I have it now, thank God! I am saved.”
Soon afterward, in full assurance of faith, he fell asleep in Christ, resting on His finished work.