By The Editor
The Morning Cometh.
My Dear Friends,
The darkness of eternal night is shadowing the world today. The storm sweeps across the skies and the clouds fly before it. The tempest is gathering, and the portents of a coming awful judgment are manifest. Ah! what of the night? What of the night? It is deepening around us; the clouds of modernism, and atheism and rationalism are making it dark; the shadows of ritualism and spiritism are clustering thick; the darkness of a thousand false creeds is falling upon men. How dark the night is! “Men love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evil.” The Christian shudders to hear the blasphemer curse, and the infidel and the Modernist rave, and to listen to the mocking of unbelief that first startled the peace of Eden’s bowers.
What of you, my reader? Have you decided for Christ, or are you still determined in the face of coming judgment to go on in sin, and brave the sinner’s doom?
I hear one say, I must make money, must strive in my business, in my office, or my farm. Yes, there are many who love sixpence more than they do Christ; and others who would sell Him for a railway share, or house, or land, or business. And Christ is coming.
Ah! my readers, stay no longer in the place, of death, occupied among the tombs and sepulchers of this world, but come forth boldly for the Lord. The sneer of the scoffer was heard in apostolic times, and Peter spoke of those who said, “Where is the promise of His coming?” God has been laughed at in every age of the world’s night of sin and death; and the devil laughs at those who laugh at God. Today, God’s preachers stand and cry, “The Lord is coming; judgment will fall on the sinner’s head; come to Jesus.” The scoffer answers, “Preacher, where is the promise of His coming? I don’t believe in hell, there is no future punishment.” Again the mocking voice comes, the language of the night, “What rubbish you Christians speak; you say you are saved; are happy now, and will be happy forever; you don’t fear death, you would like to die. You warn us of the night of the tomb, and the terrors of the grave! Ah! Ah! Christian, what of the night?
As I listen, I hear another scoffer say, “You tell me that the blood of Jesus cleanses sin, and that He died for sinners; that He will pardon all who come; that God’s Son suffered in the darkness, nailed to a cross―that He is the Light of the world, and it is night away from Him.”
I pause still; and as I pause I seem to hear the mocking voices say, “You Christians believe that Christ is coming again; that He may came at any moment, and that those who will be left behind will be eternally lost―that repentance of sin leads to forgiveness of sin; and that the shadows of a life of sin make the darkness of the sinner’s night. Ah! Ah! Christian! What of the night? Yes, these wild voices of the night shout their defiance to God and His Christ, to the Father and the Son, and they gather strength as they voice their unbelief until at last they seem to thunder out together: “Where’s your heaven? Where’s your hell? Where’s your salvation? Where’s your damnation? Where’s your peace? Where’s your woe? Where’s your devil? Where’s your Jesus? Where’s your coming Christ? What of the night?”
We have lingered for awhile about the night, and listened to its voices. Now we come to the morning.
“The morning cometh.” The children of the day watch for the morning light to shine―the morning star to appear. Can you say I am a child of the day, an heir of glory? Scoffer you have said salvation was all rubbish; happiness in Christ a delusion; heaven a dream, and hell an invention. You have said the blood of Jesus cannot wash away sin. You have challenged God’s power to save, and Christ’s love to sinners. You have laughed at the thought of the coming of Christ. You have let the Modernist tear your Bible to pieces and defame the Christ of God. But the morning cometh. We wait and watch. The peace of the morning has shone into our hearts, and the promise of it cheers us on. You have said to us “Where’s your heaven, your Christ, your salvation, your joy?” Where? In the heaven where He is, treasured up, for those who believe, in the golden storehouses of the better land, but given to those who believe now: “In His presence there is fullness of joy, at His right hand pleasures for evermore.” The morning cometh after nights of longing and hours of pain. A young girl is dying in a hospital ward. A lady bends over her and says, “Will you tell me your name, dear?” “Agnes.” “You have listened to a sweeter voice than mine?” “Yes,” she softly said, “Here in this bed He met me, my loving Saviour, in the night, four months ago. He came and spoke peace to my soul. He saw me suffering, and He spoke to me, and I am going to be with Himself.” The next day the lady came and found the girl dying. She knelt by the bed and put her ear close to her mouth and heard her whisper, “He gave me peace! perfect peace! abiding peace! soon I shall have everlasting peace with Him.” And so she died. The morning had come after the night of pain. Some years ago a night of wakefulness was mine. I was restless, uneasy, and eager for the day. The shadows of the summer night seemed to have fallen about my heart. I saw the first streak of the dawn in the sky, and I opened my window to watch the morning. There were no sounds of man to be heard; but the breath of the young day kissed my cheek, and from the trees I heard the martin song of the feathered choir. As I gazed the peace of the morning seemed to fill my heart, and when I knelt to pray my soul was eased. I thought, a brighter morn is coming, a “morning without clouds.” I shall be glad to see that morning, whether I behold it through the gates of death, or when my Master calls me home. Oh, hasten blessed time! The days pass on, and when I gaze on heavens fair with creation’s light, I think, perhaps Christ will come! Not yet, but the morning cometh. When evening shadows fall, I say, “Perhaps He will lift the shadows with the brightness of His coming!” Not yet, but the morning cometh. I lie down to sleep, and as I say, “Good-night” to Jesus, I think, “He may wake me to gaze upon His face;” for the morning cometh. Yes, I shall see the Morning Star — the Sun of Righteousness―the light of heaven― “the Lamb is the Light thereof.” Oh! my readers, are you the children of the day? Are you waiting for the morning?
The morning light will flash upon the Christian’s eyes in that blest moment when the Lord descends to meet His people in the air. The scoffer says, “Where is the promise of His coming?” The Christian answers, “Here, in my heart, I hold it fast until He come, as something He has given me; a promise from Himself.” So I wait and watch.
Dear friends, I have endeavored to bring to your notice this month some of the heresies that are preached far and wide. I ask you to pray that the truth as it is in Jesus may be maintained by those who have confessed their faith in Him, and that the spread of His Word may be the means of bringing many a penitent sinner to His feet.
Yours for Christ’s sake,
Heyman Wreford.
We want testaments continually. If any of our readers would send us some we should thank God. We also want Gospel Booklets and tracts for our parcels. If you cannot give the hooks, we shall be most glad of your help to get them.