A Gospel Address, delivered at the Victoria Hall, Exeter,
by Heyman Wreford.
The Man and His Future.
WE have seen a little what manner of man Paul was, and the manner of his life. We may be sure he never had a doubt as to his salvation. There was always the “longing to depart and to be with Christ.” From the day of his conversion to the day of his passing into heaven, the vision of his glorified Saviour was before him. And he who keeps Christ in view has heaven in sight. And he who has heaven in sight must soon be there. Enoch had his translation, “he was not, for God took him.” Moses had his Pisgah, and Elijah his chariot of fire. Paul’s coronation day was in view. When near the end of his faithful life he writes to Timothy, “I have fought the good fight.” He had been true to God and to his Saviour. His life had been one long battle with the enemies of his Lord; but for the gospel of God he had fought to the end. It was a good fight. Others had fallen out from the ranks of God and left the battle-field for the world, but his undaunted heart had never failed him. His battle-cry was, “I can do all things through Christ, which strengtheneth me.” And “in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him that loved us.” He wore the armor of God, and stood fast in the Lord. And now, as he nears the gates of heaven, old and worn and gray, scarred with conflict and longing for rest, he looks back upon the battle-fields of his strenuous life. He can see the print of his knees upon the desert sands where he knelt to pray; he can view the places where he raised his Ebenezers, and his strong heart realized the faithfulness of God. He has no fear of death or the grave. “Death is swallowed up in victory.” His triumph song from victorious fields of service is, “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”
I must pause for a moment to tell you of one I visited some years ago, whose triumphant departure I shall never forget.
“I’ve Got the Victory.”
I was requested one day to visit a dying man in one of the courts of Exeter. I found him lying injured, reading a well-worn Testament. He held out his hand, with a glad smile of welcome, but how thin his face was! What ravages disease had made in his poor wasted body! and how brightly his eyes shone, as if the lamp of life were flickering up before going out! As I stood in the room near him, his wife, with soft words of love, was doing what she could to ease him. The cough seemed to tear him to pieces, and left him well-nigh breathless. She went and sat by the window, through which the spring sun shone into the room, and I took her place by the bed.
“Are you happy?” I put the question, looking straight into his eyes. He returned my glance and answered.
“ Yes.”
“How long have you known the Lord?”
“Since I have been here,” he replied.
“And how did you find salvation?”
“Through reading this little book”; and as he spoke he pointed to a Testament on his pillow. “It has been my companion here. Before I was ill, I used to read the newspaper and nothing else. I never thought about my soul, but since I’ve been here I’ve been thinking and reading, and I have found the Lord.”
Here the cough stopped him. After a while he continued: “I was afraid to give up my work, afraid to take to my bed (I thought of the wife and children), but I had to. And I think now how good He was to me, not to cut me off in my sins, but to give me a chance.”
I said, “He is ever good.”
“Yes,” he replied, “I can say now, ‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.’”
“You are not afraid of death?” I said. “No, the sting is gone.”
“The sting of death is sin,” I added.
“Yes,” he said, lifting his hands and clasping them, and shouting till the room rang, while his face shone, and his eyes filled with rapture. “Yes, sin is gone, and I’ve got the victory, sir, the victory, thanks be to God who giveth me the victory. Praise Him, praise Him for it!
“Yes,” I said, “we will thank Him.”
He cried again, “Bless Him! bless Him!” and then we were silent for awhile. I knelt and thanked God for the peace he had — asked that he might be kept peaceful — prayed, at his desire, for his wife and children; and while I prayed they wept.
Next time I saw him we talked together of heaven. It seemed as we spoke as if it came nearer and nearer to us, and the reality of it deepened upon the heart.
“You will soon see His face,” I said.
“Yes,” he softly answered, “and I shall wait for you.”
I read, “And they shall see his face, and his name shall be in their foreheads. And there shall be no night there, and they need no candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light, and they shall reign forever and ever.”
It was sweet to see his face as he heard those glorious words, and the look in his eyes as he gazed, seemingly, at the heaven I was reading about. I have seen many pass away peacefully, but he was wonderfully happy.
He felt in his heart the throbbing joy of a conqueror. “I’ve got the victory,” seemed to shine out in every lineament of his face. “Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors, through Him that loved us.” I saw the truth of that text before me, as I gazed upon him. He was happy because he knew what Christ had done for him, and how completely he was identified with Christ in the glory where He is gone. I do not know if you, my hearer, catch the idea I want to convey. He had such implicit confidence and undaunted faith that Christ had died for him — saved him, and that he was going to be with Christ.
It was all plain and intensely real. Can you say that? “He died for me.” “He loved me and gave himself for me.”
I saw him several times before he died.
One day he said, “I used to go and hear you preach very often. I used to like to listen, and I wish — I wish had done something for Christ. It’s my only regret now. I’ve wasted my life. I should like to work for Christ.” Then, turning directly to me, he raised his hands and placed them on my shoulders and said, “But go on, sir, go on with your work. ‘Tis glorious work, and God will bless you in it.” I was deeply moved at his earnest face and glowing words. He died a few days after. I was not with him when he died, but his wife told me how happy he was, I shall see him in heaven, I know. Oh, think, sinner, of the happiness he had. Come to the Saviour, who gave him rest and peace, and come now. You shall have the victory, if you believe in Him who fought the fight for sinners. He knew that his sins were gone. Do you? “Jehovah hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all.” Do you believe that? “But now, once in the end of the age, hath He appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself.” To put it away! Think of that. Can you rest upon the finished work of Jesus and rejoice because your sins are “borne away”? The one you have been hearing of could say his sins were gone. God says to the believer, “Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool,” and “your sins and your iniquities will I remember no more.” When you know by faith in Christ your sins are gone, you will be able to say with Him, “I’ve got the victory.” Yes, “thanks be to God who giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ.”
“His be the Victor’s name,
Who fought the fight alone;
Triumphant saints no honor claim,
His conquest was their own.”
Deathbeds such as these prove the reality of Christ’s salvation. The Christ that Paul knew and loved and served was known and loved by one poor and obscure in our city, but in his measure he was as happy in Christ as Paul was.
“I have finished my course, I have kept the faith.” The warrior of Christ was going in to see the Captain of his salvation; to ground his arms of warfare at his Master’s. feet. With weakening physical powers, he felt the strength of God upon him. He could testify in Caesar’s household of the truth of God. He feared no earthly tyrant. The manner of his death was nothing to him. To be with Christ was everything. There were no clouds as his sun set; no shadows as he passed from earth to heaven. The “light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ,” lit up with surpassing splendor his pathway to the skies.
So pass away the saints of God. They triumph in the triumphs of their risen Lord. They fight the good fight, they finish their course, they keep the faith. And now, in closing, let us thank God for the life-work of this great apostle; and although no earthly monument marks the place where his body lies, and no stately mausoleum rises over his remains, yet he lives in the inspired Word, and millions have rejoiced in the glory of his life for God. In every age Christians have sat at his feet and listened to his glowing words. The Christ of God was his theme, and he never tired in telling out the splendor of His love. His true heart was filled with unswerving loyalty to Christ. He passed through every experience of christian living, and found Christ all-sufficient. He was troubled on every side, yet not distressed; he was perplexed, but not in despair; he was persecuted, but not forsaken; he was cast clown, but not destroyed. His marvelous intellect was consecrated to God’s service, and in that service he had perfect freedom. No shackles of bondage restrained his soaring soul. There were no limitations in his world-wide sphere of service. He went from land to land, the accredited ambassador of Christ. Free, he preached the gospel; in bonds he preached it still.
And in eternity with the “One who loved, him and gave Himself for him,” he will meet with millions who have learned the truth through him. And in that eternity, the perfect love that filled his soul on earth will be the theme of his undying praise.