THERE lies an emigrant ship in a certain harbor. She is to sail shortly with several hundreds of passengers, who are already on their way to her from all parts of the country, and of all occupations; and they are all going to the ship by all manner of ways, and by different conveyances — some walking, some riding, some driving, some sailing, some by train. No matter how they get there, they must all board her by the narrow gangway on foot. But observe, when once on board they are all carried by the same ship, over the same tract of sea, to the same destination.
That destination, no matter what it may be, you may compare to heaven, the ship to Christ, the gangway to faith, and the passengers, coming from all parts in various ways to the gangway, to poor sinners coming in all sorts of ways, at all sorts of times, and by all sorts of means, to this saving point — believing or trusting Christ alone. And oh, if once in this ship, how sure is heaven! This ship will “weather the storm” indeed! It won’t go down. It won’t be wrecked. The ark was a type of it. How safe was Noah! O soul, if we had you only safe in Christ, we should be happy about you. We should certainly meet on “yonder side.” “I am the Way” —not a way, or a good way, or the best way, but THE Way — the only Way.
Don’t, I beseech you, as too many do, confound Christ with heaven; don’t think, when we say, “Come to Christ,” that we mean merely turn good and get to heaven. There is no road to heaven in that direction. There is a board up, so to speak, to that effect. The flames of Sinai will scorch to death every soul who attempts to get to heaven by that way.
The road is by Calvary — “I am the Way,” says Christ. So when we say, “Come to Christ,” we mean what we say; come to Christ and have dealings with Him, in order to get to heaven. Christ is not only THE Way, but the whole Way. He is the first step, and the last, to heaven — the beginning and the ending, the Alpha and the Omega.
J. G.