There is something solemn and suggestive in seeing the guard of a train enter your carriage at night for the purpose of examining the passengers’ tickets. He has in his hand a very brilliant lamp, which he brings to bear upon each ticket, in order that nothing false may escape him. His object is not to examine the countenance, the dress, or the luggage, but, simply, the ticket. The appearance and circumstances of passengers may differ widely; but the object of the guard is to examine into the genuineness of the title on which each one holds his seat in the carriage. To this one point he directs his attention; on this he concentrates all the light which his well-polished reflector can throw out. This is very solemn and very suggestive to a thoughtful mind.
If it should happen that some impostor, someone without a ticket, or someone with a spurious ticket, has found his way into the carriage, such an one will, assuredly, dread the approach of the brilliant lamp, he will seek to avoid its concentrated beams. He will seek to skulk into a corner, or hide under a seat, or in some way or another, shirk its dreaded scrutiny. But in vain. That penetrating light illuminates every corner, makes everything manifest, detects every impostor.
On the other hand, the honest man who holds in his hand a genuine ticket, shrinks not from the light, yea, he rather courts it, and delights in its brilliance, inasmuch as, the brighter it is, the more fully and speedily it makes manifest his unquestionable title to be where he is. “For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved. But he that doeth truth cometh to the light, that his deeds may he made manifest, that they are wrought in God.” (John 3:20, 2120For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved. 21But he that doeth truth cometh to the light, that his deeds may be made manifest, that they are wrought in God. (John 3:20‑21).) A false title cannot stand the light; but a true one is thereby made manifest.
The application of this is, at once, plain and instructive. We must possess a title so divinely clear and genuine that it will stand the strictest scrutiny of “the light.” All must be brought to that light, sooner or later. The lamp of God must shine on every one’s title; and when our title is sure, we delight in having it, examined. If we are building on our efforts after righteousness, or our struggles after holiness; upon our strivings, our doings, or our feelings; upon ordinances, upon creeds, or upon churches; if our title is furnished by any of these things, or by all of them put together, it will be proved to be spurious when that bright lamp of divine holiness is brought to bear upon it. No title can be admitted as genuine save that which is furnished by “the blood of the Lamb.” This is the, grand, the only, the all-sufficient title. Some build upon their morality, some upon their charity, some upon their religion, some upon their experience, some upon their appropriation, application or realization, some upon the remarkable circumstances of their conversion. None of these will do. We must get to the very end of all these things, and take Christ as our only title. As in the days of the flood, there was but one solitary object to be seen floating over the wild watery waste, and that object was the ark, the only place of safety; so, now, that this world is under judgment, the only place of safety is in Christ. It was not the ark and something else; but the ark alone. It is not Christ and something else; but Christ alone. If, in the most hidden corner of the heart, we are adding the weight of a feather to Christ, we must get rid of that feather, before we can taste of true gospel peace. We must turn the scale upside down, and empty out the very dust of our own righteousness, and put Christ and Christ alone in the place of all. Then shall we have peace—settled peace—profound peace—eternal peace—a peace which nothing can ever disturb.
Why is it so many complain of a lack of settled peace? Because they have not come to the end of self and the world and made Christ their all. Depend upon it, reader, this is the secret of the matter. Can Christ not give settled peace? To be sure He can, if He is trusted. But He is not trusted, so long as something else, no matter what, is added to Him. If a man has not settled peace, it is because he has not accepted Christ alone as his peace, for assuredly Christ is a settled peace to all who really have Him. It is easy to profess to have Him, and, at the same time, to have fifty things as well. How can there be settled peace when this is the case? Impossible. As well might Noah have expected to be safe with one foot on the ark and the other on some floating carcass.
And, be it well remembered, it is heart-work we are speaking of. It is not head-work, or lip-work, creed-work, or sect-work. It is to have Christ in the heart, and naught in the heart but Christ. This is the true title-this, the true rest. To all who have this title, this rest, “there is not a cloud above, not a spot within,” There are no fears, no doubts, no misgivings, no inward shrinkings, no hidden anxieties, no vague hopes, no shadowy expectations. All is as sure and solid as Christ Himself. Heart and flesh may fail; earth and all its belongings may pass away; but Christ is a rock, and all who build on Him partake of His eternal stability.
Reader, what say you, now, to these things? Are you ready to have your ticket examined by the light of the lamp? Is your ticket genuine? Is your heart—your inmost heart—deeply and thoroughly assured that all is well? Have you a single misgiving as to your personal safety? Be honest. Get the matter settled, now. If you have so much as a single doubt, it is because you are not wholly done with self and occupied with Christ. Take Christ as your whole, your only title, and, then, you will enjoy perfect repose. Hundreds fail in this. They learn their lesson superficially. They get a partial view of their own ruin, and a partial view of Christ. They are, then, propped up, sustained, and carried forward, by ordinances, meetings, religiousness, Christian friends, active employment— all good enough things in their right place; but when some crisis comes, heavy illness or the near approach of death, the soul is filled with horror. It finds itself in deep waters, where the floods overflow it; in a region of cloudiness and gloom, where neither sun nor stars appear. Then, at last, it is forced to lay hold on Christ, in reality, as its whole salvation, and unutterable peace is the result.
Hence, the importance of beginning right—of “digging deep,” and finding “the Rock.” Many christians make a goal of the starting post, and, as a consequence, they are superficial and fluctuating all their journey through. Occasional gleams of sunshine, it may be, break through their ordinary gloom. While reading a good gospel tract, or hearkening to a good gospel sermon, they are lifted up and think
“They can read their title clear
To mansions in the skies.”
But, ere long, they experience the heavings and tossings of indwelling sin, and begin to doubt if they were ever really converted at all; they think they have been deceiving themselves all along, and that hell will be their portion, at the end. All this is the result of not getting thoroughly done with self, and making Christ their Alpha and their Omega in everything. Yes; it must be in everything. It is not in one thing, or two things, or three things; but in everything. It is not at this stage, or the other stage, but all the journey through. Christ must be ALL—self NOTHING. Let this lesson be thoroughly learned, and, then my reader will be able to understand and appreciate the familiar, yet solemn and suggestive illustration of “the lamp and the ticket.”