A SHORT time since, I was asked to go and see a poor dying woman, who was concerned about her soul, but evidently very ignorant as to the true ground of a sinner’s peace with God.
On entering the cottage, I was struck with the neatness and arrangement of everything. Nothing seemed out of its proper place. A young woman showed us up a small narrow staircase to the attic, where the sick one lay. The same air of cleanliness and comfort was visible in the sick chamber as in the room below.
Immediately my eyes rested on the sick woman, I felt convinced she was passing through deep exercise of mind, and that her time here would be very short. There was much that was interesting in her countenance. Her face had assumed that clay-like appearance which takes place after life is gone. Her eyes were large, black, and piercing most expressive of great concern within. Pale death sat on the cheek, while something like the full energy of life sparkled in the eye. Such was the contrast.
On taking her hand and observing that she seemed very weak, she replied, “Yes, sir; I am very weak; but I am very glad to see you. Miss―has been speaking to me about you.”
“Do you think that the Lord will soon remove you to another world?”
“Oh yes, sir; I cannot long be here.”
“Dying is always a solemn thing, is it not?”
“Oh yes, very―very!”
“Are you happy in the prospect of appearing before God after death?”
“Not always.”
“Are you sometimes?”
“At times I am.”
“Why are you not always happy?”
“Oh, I am far from being what I ought to be!”
“Is not that changeableness, think you, owing rather to the foundation on which you are resting?”
“I suppose so I am not sure. I am not sure I am saved.”
“Will you tell me what is the ground of your hope before God?”
Now she seemed to summon up all her strength, and with an air of confidence and self-complacency, she repeated, without faltering, the following lines―
“‘Tis religion that can give
Sweetest pleasures while we live;
‘Tis religion can supply
Solid comfort when we die.”
“Yes indeed, dear woman,” I replied, “that is quite true, provided your religion be divine; but there is such a thing as human religion, as well as divine.” She was evidently a little troubled at this saying, and looked at me very keenly. “The Pharisees, you know, were very religious, and yet they rejected Christ. Their religion was not divine surely. They despised the very One in whom God delighted.”
“Yes, I know―that is quite true about them; but they were hypocrites.”
“Well, I admit that; but who knew they were hypocrites? Jesus only could take off the mask, and show what they really were. The common people thought them very good. And no doubt many of them were sincere, though blinded. Paul himself was both sincere and zealous when he was a Pharisee, though he hated the very name of Christ. So that a person may be as religious as a Pharisee, and not be saved.”
“Well, then,” she exclaimed, “what is the difference?”
“DIVINE RELIGION, the Bible says, is ‘pure and undefiled;’ so that it must come from heaven. To be religious, then, in God’s sense, is to be like Christ―to be possessed of His life, filled with His Spirit, and walking in His steps. HUMAN RELIGION is attending to the forms of Christianity, without divine life in the soul―form without power―profession without reality. You know as well as I do, that a person may be very sincere, and attend church or chapel regularly; sing psalms and hymns; hear sermons; say prayers, and yet have no saving interest in Christ; no divine life in the soul. Human forms, however sincerely attended to, will never meet God’s righteous demands, or wash away our many sins. And these are the things which concern you most, are they not?”
“Oh yes―oh yes. What am I to do?”
“Well, there is one thing I want to ask you―Is the solemn question about sin settled between God and your own conscience?”
“Oh, tell me!” she cried, with the deepest earnestness, “am I saved?―am I saved?”
“If you are a true believer in the Lord Jesus Christ, you are.”
“Oh, I believe; but are my sins washed away?”
‘The blood of Jesus Christ, God’s Son, cleanseth us from all sin.’ ‘Without shedding of blood there is no remission.’ Can you depend entirely on the blood?”
By this time, the poor woman seemed to feel that her former foundation was crumbling beneath her feet, and all her hopes were perishing. She cried most bitterly, “Oh, I am not saved! I am not fit to die! what am I to do?” her head rolling from one end of the pillow to the other, and her large, dark eyes gazing on me in the most pitiful manner. It was enough to rend one’s heart. I was silent for a little, and lifted up my heart for direction. I was afraid she would expire. Many thoughts passed through my mind. She became a little calmer. I felt encouraged to say a little more, and quietly repeated some passages of scripture. But she very soon got excited again about her sins. Nearly the whole of our conversation after this was about the value of the blood of Jesus, as meeting the case of every sinner that believeth in Him. She spoke a great deal about her many sins, and asked if the blood of Christ could put all these away. I sheaved her from the scriptures, that there were many in heaven now, who had been guilty of far greater sins than hers. This she was slow to believe, and still spoke about her sinfulness. Not a word now about―
“‘Tis religion that can give.”
She had lost all hope in her former religiousness, but did not see how she could be saved by only believing in Jesus. Her sins were her great trouble, and how she was to be pardoned. I assured her that the blood of Jesus was a perfect remedy for all sins―great sins and little sins; and that while it was needed for the very least sin, it was all-sufficient for the greatest. I tried to make this precious truth plain to her in the following way: ―
“Suppose,” I said, “that you were guilty of every sin that you have known or heard of, and saw them all written against you there, on the wall before your eyes―the sin of swearing, lying, stealing, drinking, and murder: well, suppose you were really guilty of all these, and many more, the blood of Jesus Christ could wash them all away, just as easily as the sin of a little child in saying ‘No’ to her mother. The child that naughtily said ‘No’ to her mother needs the blood of Jesus to cleanse away her sin, as really as the person who is guilty of all these. Not a particle of sin can ever be put away from God’s sight but by the blood of His own Son.”
She was evidently greatly interested in all this―her eyes constantly turning to the wall, as if she saw her sins written there. It seemed reality to her. But she could find no relief. The scene was most touching. I again sought to direct her attention to the blessed Jesus. “The moment you believe in Him,” I said, “and trust in His precious blood, you will be cleansed and saved from all your sins. Do think on what God’s word says, ‘The blood of Jesus Christ, his Son, cleanseth us from all sin.’ Now, if you believe that word to be true, and place all your trust and confidence in the shed blood of His dear Son, you will not only be pardoned, cleansed and saved, but you will be quite happy. Your peace will be made with God. The very instant you trust Jesus you are saved. ‘Blessed are all they that put their trust in Him.’”
She began to be more calm, but was evidently under deep conviction, and asked a great many questions. After a little prayer, I proposed to leave, when she again began to speak about her sins, and about being saved, and got into such an agony of spirit, that she cried, “You must let me know that I am saved―I must be saved;” looking as if she would catch hold of me.
It was difficult to answer her, and most desirable to soothe her. “How sweet,” I said, “are the words of the blessed Jesus to the weary and heavy laden: ‘Come unto me I―will give you rest.’ ‘Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out.’ Here, and here alone, the burdened heart finds relief, and the weary soul quiet eternal rest. Only rest here, lay your weary soul on Jesus, leave it there, and be at rest. He will put your sins far away, but keep you near to Himself. Oh do! cast all on Him, trust all to Him, confide only in Him. Do venture your all on Him―He will never fail you, nor forsake you. Only trust Him and all shall be well―forever well.”
Seeing her tolerably quiet, I left. But I can never forget the speaking expression of her eye, as I withdrew from her bedside.
Oh! what a solemn lesson to all who are either living carelessly or trusting to mere empty forms. They will be found worse than useless on a deathbed. Human religiousness and divine Christianity are very different things when we come to die. Nothing short of living connection with Christ, and resting on the sure foundation of His finished work, will save a soul. Dear reader, are you on this Rock? Has death no sting for you? Are you ready―waiting for the Lord’s coming?
Next day―Wednesday―I sent her some suitable tracts of a large type, but my friend found her no better―still restless, and speaking about the two kinds of religion and the blood of Jesus. On Thursday, when the same kind friend called, she found her even more unhappy, and still talking only of the same things. Friday morning came, and the usual call was made; but, oh, what a change had taken place! The moment she saw her countenance, she felt sure there was a happy change. She looked so calm and peaceful. The fierce eye was softened, and every feature was at rest. When the question was asked, how she felt this morning, she instantly replied, “Quite happy now!”
“I am thankful to hear that. What is it makes you so happy now?”
“RESTING IN THE BLOOD. All that Mr.―said to me about the blood of Jesus came to me during the night―so clear. It is all true; I am happy now, resting in the blood.”
At this moment, she took from under her pillow the tracts I had sent her, and laid them down on a small table at the bedside, signifying by the act, as it was understood, “I am done with these now, I have found Jesus, I am at rest in Him.” She was evidently sinking fast, but all was peace.
On being asked, “Would you like to see Mr.―again?” “Yes, very much,” she replied; “but tell him I shall soon be with Jesus. I will meet him in heaven.”
She fell asleep the same day about four p.m.
A few days after this, I called to see the young woman already mentioned. I found she was sister to the departed, and had given up her place as a domestic servant to take care of her sister and the children. (The husband, being a laboring man, was out all day). This accounted for the house being so orderly. Although she was not a Christian, I was desirous to hear what she had to say of her sister, and, at the same time, to speak plainly to herself. One part of our conversation may be profitable to mention, as revealing the fearful ignorance which prevails in the minds of many as to the way of salvation.
“Ever after the Tuesday,” she said, “my sister was more restless, and more difficult to please; but on Thursday she was quite irritable. I was wishing you had never called. I could not lay the pillow aright, or do anything to please her. ‘Dear me,’ I said, ‘what is the matter?’ ‘Oh, if I knew that my sins were pardoned,’ she exclaimed. ‘Well,’ said I to her, ‘if you pray to God, I am sure he will forgive you your sins.’ ‘Are yours forgiven?’ she sharply replied. ‘No; I know mine are not forgiven, because I have never asked.’ ‘Oh, no! that is not the way, Mr.―says we can only be pardoned through faith in the blood of Jesus.’”
Night came on, and it was arranged that the young woman should go to bed, and the husband sit up. He stretched himself on two chairs by his wife’s bedside, so that she could wake him if she wanted anything; but to the great surprise of both husband and sister, they were allowed to sleep undisturbed until the morning. The God of all grace had visited her during the lonely hours of midnight with the light, peace, and joy of His salvation.
When they looked at her in the morning, she was lying perfectly quiet, and told them she did not want anything. She was quite happy. She saw it all now. The Lord had done it by the teaching of His own blessed Spirit, and by means of His own written word. This is conversion―true conversion. Many are religious, as this woman was, but are they converted? This is the solemn question. Without true conversion―being born again, no amount of religiousness, however sincere, however constant, can save the immortal soul. “Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” May the Lord bless the above narrative to the awakening of many souls from the fatal slumbers of a false profession, and to His name be all the praise and the glory. Amen.