SOME years ago I was taking leave of an intimate friend of mine, captain of the S.S. "Cadiz." The vessel had just been repaired and painted, and was ready to put to sea. At the moment of parting, I said to him, "I should be pleased to go with you.”
“Come, then, if you wish.”
“Oh! it cannot be this time.”
So we parted, taking an affectionate leave of each other.
A few days later I read in a newspaper that the S.S. "Cadiz" had gone ashore in a dense fog while entering the Bay of Biscay, and that my friend and two sailors had fared better than the rest of the crew. On seeing the vessel about to go to pieces, they cast themselves into the sea, and by swimming were able to reach a rock that was situated a short distance from the wreck, from which they were rescued by a passing vessel.
Ponder, reader, on the uncertainty of life. You do not know when you, too, will go. It may be soon. And in that case, are you prepared?
Perhaps you trust that all is well, but you should be sure. The crew of the S.S. "Cadiz" believed themselves secure, but they were not. The fog deceived the sailors, and they did not see their peril. If only the sun had shone out and dispersed the fog, it would have shown them that they were going to certain death.
The same thing happens now, only in a far more serious way. Many are surrounded with the mists of indifference; while others sail in the midst of unbelief and superstition, and need the divine light to illumine their hearts to reveal to them their peril, and dissipate the darkness in which they are.
These shipwrecked sailors, who saved their lives, left the vessel that was foundering, and took refuge on the rock. The Rock, Christ, is the only place of security. Leave, then, this shipwrecked world—leave it as did the sailors of this narrative their wrecked vessel. Flee from its coming destruction, as Lot fled out of Sodom. "Escape for thy life." Hide thyself in Christ, and thus thou shalt be safe and sure.
Reader, trust in the Rock eternal instead of the bark that is doomed. C. K.