I WAS struck the other day by the force of the first word in the well-known sentence, “Yet there is room.” (Luke 14:2222And the servant said, Lord, it is done as thou hast commanded, and yet there is room. (Luke 14:22).)
Nearly two thousands years have fled since these familiar words fell from the lips of our blessed Lord.
That there should be room when He graciously uttered them is conceivable; but when you think of the crowds of blood-bought guests who have entered the portals and taken their places at the festive board in the heavenly house, crowds from Pentecostal times, crowds from the Roman arenas, from London Srnithfields, from Parisian Bartholomews, from Spanish dungeons, crowds from the quiet bedchamber or the ocean wave.—that there should yet be room is wonderful.
How immense must be that house’ How full of love that heart which still permits the words to go forth, “Yet there is room!”
Thank God, there is room still, but how much more we cannot say.
The space may he limited; the seats are fast filling up.
Can we, are we permitted to say, “Still there’s room for millions more?” Perhaps not millions! Perhaps not thousands! Perhaps not hundreds! Perhaps not tens!
“Some guest will be the last.”
Reader, are you amongst the last ten? The Master of the house will rise up one day and close the door, then woe to him who was just on the threshold, but not over it; not far from the kingdom, but not in it. See to it that you are in side.
“Yet there is room” is true while you read this paper; it may not be true tomorrow. “Yet there is room” for the poor and halt and maimed and blind, room for any and all who take their true place before God today; but once the door is shut, no matter what plea is urged, or cry raised, or importunity used, it is then too late.
“None of these men shall taste of My supper,” is the awful verdict. “Depart from Me,” is the eternal sentence.
Friend, consider your loss should you be excluded.
“Yet there is room.”
ML 11/11/1906