THE sudden illness of a beloved servant of Christ called me some years ago into the Western Highlands of Scotland. As it was to be a comfort to the patient, and those round her, I remained a few days, staying with them in the comfortable farmhouse where they had secured lodgings for some weeks for change of air. The evening following my arrival, we gathered a few of the country-folk into the farm-kitchen for a little gospel meeting. It was an out-of-the-way, picturesque, but lonely spot, so that gospel services were of rare occurrence, and gladly hailed, though, as it was then the height of the wheat-harvest season, only those who were in thorough earnest came, after a hard day’s work.
Among my auditors I noticed two interesting-looking children, about twelve or thirteen years of age. They turned out to be part of the farmer’s family, being twin-sisters. At the close of the meeting, I intimated that I would preach on the morrow evening at a schoolhouse some three miles distant. The Word of God was with power, and these two dear children were arrested by it, which was evidenced by their close attention, and an urgent request to their father to be allowed to attend the meeting of the following evening.
To this request the cautious farmer gave a negative response, not that he disliked the meeting, but that he would need their services to carry food to the reapers, go messages, and help generally in the harvest field, and he thought they could not thus toil all day and walk six miles at night. Much disappointed, the young truth-seekers pressed their suit again, and promised to rise as early as he liked, and work as hard as he pleased, if only they might go.
Their earnestness carried the day, and having obtained consent, they retired cheerfully to rest, rose early next morning, toiled all day in the burning sun, and at sun-down set off together for the meeting. Little wonder, thought I, if God should bless such earnest souls.
That night many gathered together: the third of John was my theme, and I noticed the intense eagerness with which the young couple heard the word of life. “Marvel not that I said unto thee, Ye must be born again;” and, “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted up; that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life,” showed the two musts in their full force. Man―every man―must be born again, and to this end Jesus must die. But who is this Son of Man giving Himself for others? That query verse 16 answered. “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” The Son of Man is no less than the Son of God. A human being, but a divine person. In Him the heart of God is made known, and God is seen loving and giving, while man’s part is believing and having. How simple! And “whosoever” was shown to be any one, every one, ―each poor sinner that believes God’s Word.
I felt sure God was blessing His Word, and when the meeting broke up, and we were on our way home, I quite expected to find among the blessed the earnest young souls who cared to travel six miles for the gospel after a hard day’s work. Nor was I disappointed. Overtaking Violet, I asked her if she had understood the gospel. “Oh yes, sir, I see it all clearly now, and I believe in Jesus, and know I have eternal life.” A little more conversation assured me of the dear child’s real faith in the Lord; so leaving her, I quickened my steps; and was soon alongside of Marion.
“Well, Marion, are you saved also, as well as Violet?” was my query. “Yes, sir, I believe I am; I see tonight that Jesus died for me, and I believe in Him,” was her response, while the youthful face was as bright and joyous as the one I had just left. I could only praise the Lord as I saw the girls were twin-sisters in grace as well as in nature.
Slackening our steps a little, Violet overtook us, whereupon I introduced them to each other in their new relationship as sisters in the Lord, each welcoming the other with great gladness on hearing of her conversion. Then, as we walked on, I sought to instruct them a little, and confirm their newborn faith. Just before we reached home, I said, “I want to ask you each one question more: When was it that Jesus put your sins away?” In a moment Violet replied, “Oh, tonight, sir.” Turning to her sister for her reply, I had a moment to wait, and then the little maiden firmly said, “When He died on the cross.”
“Right, my child, right,” said I; “it was when He was on the cross He bore them, and there He atoned for them, and then He put them away from God’s sight forever. You and your sister have got the knowledge of that blessed fact this night for the first time in your history, but the work was done when Jesus died.”
I have often heard of my young friends, since then, as following the Lord, and trust to meet them in glory with Him. I narrate this simple story, because so many earnest souls are not clear on the last point alluded to. Many a true and honest soul is troubled about sins, and afraid of being finally lost on account of those committed after conversion. They put it thus: “I believe Jesus bore my sins up to the time when I was converted, but what about those I am guilty of since?” Let me ask you a question, When Christ died on the cross how many sins had you or I committed? None; we were not either of us born; but still, blessed be His name, I know He bore mine, ―all of them too. “Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree,” says Peter, and this is enough for me. He bore them when He died; He forgives them when I believe. That is a great difference. He blotted them out on the cross. I know they are pardoned, and blotted out, when I believe Him; and I know it, not because I feel it, but because God says it.
W. T. P. W.