We watched the wreck with great anxiety. The life-boat had been out some hours, but could not reach the vessel through the great breakers that raged and foamed on the sand bank. The boat appeared to be leaving the Norwegian crew to perish; but it was only to get round the sand bank. My eye was to the glass; “I think I see the boat leaving the vessel,” said I to my friend. “Just you look.” He did so. “Yes, there she is,” said he, “plain enough, but I have lost her again. Why, dear! dear! the vessel has gone down.” Yes, it was so. But a very few minutes after the captain and sixteen of the perishing crew had been taken off, the vessel went down. We were having a meeting to read the word of God on the Monday night, and five of the rescued sailors came in. They were so deeply interested in hearing the Gospel preached, that the whole sixteen “besought that the same words might be preached to them,” the next night. It was very affecting to look at these sixteen men, rescued from the very jaws of death. There was an aged sailor of near sixty, and a boy about fifteen. A Norwegian Bible had been washed on shore, a beloved brother turned to the passages in it, as I spoke in English; some could understand me, whilst the mate read the Norwegian texts, and interpreted to the others. It was a solemn meeting. We had provided supper, and asked whether they would have tea or coffee. They replied they had come for neither, but to hear the word of God.
I said, “When your vessel had struck, and those immense waves were rolling over the deck, suppose I had taken a speaking trumpet, and, standing on the shore, had hailed you with these words, ‘I invite you to come on shore and then you will be safe.’ Would that have been good news for you?” “Oh no, sir,” said they, “that would not have met our case at all.” Well, then, when the life-boat had come three miles, and was now only one hundred yards from you, suppose the captain of the boat had said, “There, we have done our part, you must now do yours.” Would that have met your case? “Oh, no; that would have been no better than staying on shore.” Of course not, they might as well have attempted three miles, in such a sea, as one hundred yards. Every sea that struck them threatened to send them to the deep. In such a storm, free will, will not help a man a yard. In their case there was the will, but where was the power? One more question, “When the lifeboat came to you in the storm, did you expect it had brought some tools to repair your old ship? or did you expect to be taken off the old vessel and put in the life-boat?” “Oh, no; the vessel was a total wreck,” said they. They well knew that she was past mending. Two of her masts were gone, and if they had stayed mending her, only a few minutes, they must have gone down, to rise no more in this world. They had to be taken off the vessel and strapped fast to the lifeboat. That is a noble life-boat, The Jessie Knowles, she is so built that she cannot sink. I think she was buried four times in the waves, but rose, and emptied herself each time. What a mercy there was such a life-boat at Southport; but for her, there was no way of escape for those poor men. It is a solemn thing for seventeen men, in health and strength, all to go down in a moment to a watery grave. It was a fearful storm, and many long hours had passed, darkness had come on, but at last they emerged from the darkness, and all were saved.
I tried to illustrate the gospel by the manner of their rescue; some believed the message, and I doubt not I shall meet them at the coming of the Lord.
I showed them that by nature, every man is in the very condition that they had been in — a total wreck. The power of Satan, and the awful billows of sin beating on the soul, are of far greater strength than those waves that rolled over the ship. Poor man, when he really awakes to his true condition, he finds, like the stranded vessel, he has lost both his masts. Yes, and if even he has the will, where is the power to escape? The Apostle Paul, describing his own experience when in the flesh, on the old ship, says, “For to will is present with me; but how to perform that which is good I find not.”
When the blessed Jesus was upon earth, man’s condition was fully proved. He came to His own, but His own received Him not. He invited men to come unto Him; but they rejected, and slew Him. Such is the crew of the old vessel — to which, by nature, my reader belongs.
What a wreck is humanity, and in what a storm. No, the gospel is not a mere invitation to the sinner, to give up his sins, to come out of the storm, and come serve Christ on shore. No, it shows me how Jesus gave his precious blood to come and serve me in, and save me from, the storm. All rejected the invitation to the gospel supper. None came but those that were fetched, yea, compelled to come in, (Luke 14:16-23.) Such is man, and such is God. Sin has abounded, grace has much more abounded.
Blessed Jesus, thou didst not come within one hundred yards of us, and then bid us help ourselves. No, had Jesus only come to this world to invite sinners to Himself, He must have remained alone. To save, He must die. (John 12:24.) If pity led the crew of the life-boat, to go into the midst of the raging storm, right to the sinking vessel; was it not love that led the blessed One to leave the realms of glory, and descend to this world of sin; yea, to take the sinner’s place, to die for our sins, according to the scriptures? Jesus took no half measures. Infinite in love, mighty to save. Well did He count the cost. None but He fully knew the perils of that deep, into which He entered, when His soul was made an offering for sin. Before He could reach us, all God’s billows must roll over Him. Those dark, deep waters of death into which He sank. And, Prince of Life! what must that death have been to Him? Such death was never died but then. The awful weight of God’s righteous judgment on sin, and on my sins, struck His soul; fell on Him; and, as it fell, made even Him cry out, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? “ Ah, had the whole Atlantic, with one mighty swell, struck the Norwegian wreck; this would have been as nothing in comparison. And there was no way to reach poor sin-wrecked man, but through this sin-expiating death. “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up.” “Christ must needs have suffered, and risen again from the dead; and this Jesus, whom I preach unto you, is Christ.” (Acts 17:3.)
However light man, duped by the great enemy, may make of sin, God cannot make light of it. Without the shedding of blood, pardon there is none. In heaven or earth naught could be found to maintain the high consistency of God, most Holy, in pardoning sin, but the expiating death of His ever-beloved Son. Oh, sinner, “God hath spoken in His holiness, I will rejoice.” In perfect righteousness the gospel comes to every opened ear. The work is done. The wreck is reached. He sank in death, He is risen in life — in life that dies no more. “Delivered for our offenses, and raised again for our justification.”
Oh! sin-tossed, sin-wrecked soul, perishing, sinking, lost one! hear the words of thy great Deliverer, “Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my words, and believeth on him that sent me hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life.” (John 5:24.) Oh, sweetest words of heavenly certainty, to him that thus believes the wondrous love of God, in sending Jesus to the wreck. Long may you have been rowing in the dark and stormy night of sin.
Oh! do you hear His voice? He says, Do not be afraid, it is I. What love to come to you just where you are, helpless and lost. He comes with words of pardon, words of peace. Through Him is proclaimed to you the forgiveness of sins, and by Him all that believe are justified from all things. This is the plain statement of His word. (Acts 13:38.) I only ask, do you hear His words, do you believe on God that sent Him, in infinite righteousness, thus to save the lost? Then, as surely as you thus believe God, so surely you are passed from death unto life. It is thus by the word of God, that faith comes to sin-wrecked man.
The Norwegian sailors were a good deal surprised at the illustration of their not trying to mend the old ship. There is no greater, or more common mistake, than the attempt to mend the old man. The moment these sailors were taken off the wreck, and strapped to the life-boat, that moment the old vessel passed away, and they sailed in the new life-boat; if they had clung to only one rope of the old, they could not have escaped in the new. It is just so with all who are saved in Christ. “Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold all things are become new. And all things are of God,” &c. (2 Cor. 5:17.) The resurrection life-boat is entirely of God — built of God when He raised Christ from the dead. Thus God takes the once wrecked sinner, from his old condition, in the wrecked vessel of Adam the first, and places him, yea, straps him fast, with cords of never-breaking love, in the resurrection life-boat; the new creation. Hear what Jesus says of all who are in this lifeboat, “I give unto them eternal life, and they shall never perish, neither shall any pluck them out of my hand.” (John 10:28.) Oh, blessed Captain, they who know thee best, know that the sin-wrecked sailor, once in the life-boat, is as safe as those who have landed on heaven’s shore. True, he is still in the storm; but he cannot sink, he cannot perish. What confidence this gives to work out our salvation with fear and trembling!
The Norwegian sailors very gladly pulled at the oar in concert with the life-boat crew. The certainty that they could not sink, gave strength to the pull. So it was with Paul, when addressing the sin-wrecked ones in the resurrection life-boat at Philippi. Being confident that he who had begun the work would see them safe to land, he therefore bids them, joyfully, pull for the shore. Surely, I would not say one word against good works, only mind you are not pulling in the old ship. Man’s utmost effort to improve himself, is just like trying to mend a sinking ship. Still she settles lower and lower in the water, and the next sea that strikes her may be the last; and so it is with man. With all his religiousness and resolutions, he sinks lower and lower in sin, awful condition! the next sin may be the last; and then, he sinks in perdition. When the vessel is full of water, it is too late to pump. Alas, man is not only full of sin; but there is no strength in his timbers to keep it out — all is rottenness. There must be a new birth, a new creation. All hope in self, like the broken ship, must be given up. Well, reader, how is it with you? has God shown you your utterly wrecked condition? It may be, you say, “That sinking wreck is an exact picture of my state; but what am I to do? I have tried long to be better, but I only sink lower and lower? “Nay, it is not what are you to do; but, what has been done? Christ has died. God needs no more; nay, God says so, by raising Him from the dead. Now, think of the death of Jesus for sins. Do you need more? God is just in justifying—is not this enough? Oh, that, from this moment you may let go every hope, and every rope of the old ship, self, and believing what God says, through Jesus pass from death unto life!