The late George Soltau gave the following personal experience as an illustration of the above grand scripture: A young man, named Ferdinand, lay dying of galloping consumption. His end was approaching, but no one had been allowed to go near him, to converse with him upon the matters of his soul. His mother was a Christian, but he stoutly refused to admit to his room any Christian who might speak to him. I was asked to go and try and see him. I said it was useless to go without his permission, but suggested that a large bouquet of roses should be sent down with the message, that the gentleman from whom the roses came would visit him if he wished. The lovely roses brought a little of the outside world into his poor, plainly furnished room, with its bare whitewashed walls. The moment he saw the flowers his eyes sparkled with delight, and he just hugged and enjoyed them for some time. Then he gave permission for me to visit him, and accordingly I went down in the afternoon. The following conversation ensued:
"I'm very ill, and cannot expect to last long."
"Is there no hope at all?"
"None whatever, I am going fast."
"Might I ask you a very personal question? Is it unpleasant to be dying? Do you dislike it very much?"
"Oh, no, I don't mind. It is not unpleasant to be dying. I feel I am going to heaven."
"If that feeling is based on some substantial facts, that is all right, and I can quite imagine it is pleasant. But tell me now, on what is the feeling you are going to heaven based?"
"Well, I have a sort of feeling like it today for the first time, and I think it will be all right."
"May I ask you what kind of a fellow you have been? Have you been what men call religious? Going to church, reading the Bible, and praying to God regularly?"
"Oh, no, I'm not one of that sort at all."
"Then are you one of the sort that has chucked up religion, but been a thoroughly moral, steady fellow, whose word could always be relied upon, and who was always upright in business and strictly moral?"
"No, I'm not one of that sort, either; I'm one of the bad sort. I lie here and I curse all day long; I curse God, I curse my mother, I curse my bed, I curse everything and everybody; I can't stop cursing anyhow."
"Then, my dear fellow, from your own showing, you have not a chance of going to heaven. Ferdinand, YOU ARE DONE FOR, CLEAN DONE FOR."
"Oh, please don't say that, don't say that, don't say that."
"Yes, I must say it again to you. YOU ARE DONE FOR. Life is gone and it will soon flicker out. You can do nothing now. You have not a chance of going to heaven. You wouldn't thank your doctor if he came in now and said, " 'Hello, old fellow, you are doing first-rate, you will recover all right,' knowing there was no hope, would you? You would say,
“‘Don’t give me any false hope.' So I am not going to give you any false hope on which to die. You have not a chance in the world."
In great agony he raised himself on his elbows, and said, "What shall I do?"
"Nothing, Ferdinand, you are done for. You can do nothing."
"What will God do?"
"That's a very sensible question, for when a man is done for, God can do something for him." "Tell me, what will God do?"
Taking my Bible in my hand I held it open, and said, "Suppose you could look into Heaven, and see `the Book of Remembrance' open. I believe you might see column after column of your life recorded; all the words, all the actions, all the thoughts. Everything would be down exactly as it has happened, and you would have very soon to go and face that record before a holy God."
"I cannot, I cannot."
"My dear fellow, you simply must. There is no alternative."
"I tell you I dare not, I dare not."
"There is no help out of it. You have to face the pages with the record of your life, whether you will or not."
"But it's awful. I simply cannot."
"Now listen, and I'll tell you what a great Friend of sinners will do for you if you wish it. There is only One Person Who has any access to that Book, and that is the Lord Jesus Christ. Your tears cannot blot out one line. Your prayers cannot touch it; only His hand can, and He is able to pass His Hand over that record, and in one instant blot out, every line, every word, so that not a single trace remains. And what is more, He says that if He does that, He will never write down a word from memory."
“‘I, even I, am He that blotteth out thy transgressions for Mine own sake, and will not remember thy sins.'
"I know Him, you do not. If I ask Him, I am sure He will do this, provided He sees you are expecting Him to do it. He will look right into your heart to see whether you expect Him to, and if He see you do, He will not delay. Shall I ask Him?"
"Ask Him quick, ask Him quick."
"And you will expect Him to do it while I am asking?"
"Yes, I'll expect Him to."
Taking his hot, wasted hand in mine, I asked the Lord to fulfill His promise and to look upon the page where that sin-stained life was recorded, and blot it all out; to efface it, so that only a clean white page might remain.
Then I left him, for he was completely exhausted. The next day, when I went up to his room, he held out his hand, saying, "He's done it, He's done it!"
"What has He done, Ferdinand?"
"What you said yesterday afternoon. I've forgotten the words, but He's done it."
"When did He do it?"
"About three o'clock in the morning, when I got a quiet spell from coughing. Mother was asleep, and the lamp was out. I said, “‘Lord, please do what I need, that the visitor said. I have forgotten the words, but you know what I mean. Please do it!' And He did.
"All of a sudden I felt a great light come into my heart, and I knew He had done it. He won't be angry because I had forgotten the words, will He? He would know what I meant all right?"
I explained it all again to him, and then said, "Ferdinand, you told me yesterday you could not stop swearing and cursing all day. How often have you cursed since three-thirty this morning?"
"Why, I have not cursed once. How curious! I have not had time or wish to do it."
"What have you been doing instead?"
"I have been blessing God, and thanking Him all the time."
So this poor dying man knew the meaning of sins blotted out by the Lord Jesus, who has the right to efface the whole record of sin, because He has made Himself personally responsible to account for it to God's holy law. In three days Ferdinand passed away, having had by his own request his first and last communion.
End