Perhaps one of the most affecting indications of Judson’s entire consecration to Christ, as his one object and theme, was afforded when he revisited Boston in broken health, after an absence of thirty years.
He was announced to address an assembly of many hundreds who had gathered from great distances to hear him. He arose at the close of the usual service, and as all eyes were fixed and every ear intent, he spoke for about fifteen minutes, with great pathos, of the “precious Saviour”; of His great love and what He had done for us, and of what we owed to Him; then he sat down again, visibly affected.
The people listened with great attention, but when the meeting was over, a friend of Mr. Judson said to him, “I am afraid the people were a little disappointed today.”
“Were they?” replied Mr. Judson; “I am sorry; but as I know my voice is still weak, perhaps they could not all hear what I said.”
“No, I do not think there was any difficulty in hearing you,” was the reply; “what I mean is— knowing, as they do, that you have lived so long among the heathens, and traveled so many thousands of miles, I think they rather expected you would tell them some interesting story.”
“Well, did I not tell them the most interesting of all stories?” he asked. “I told them to the best of my ability of One who loved them even unto death; of One who came all the way from heaven to earth, to seek and to save that which was lost.”
“Yes, I know that,” said his friend; “but still I think they expected something rather different.”
“Did they? Well, I am glad that they have it to say that a man who had traveled thirty thousand miles and who had just come from the heathens, had nothing better to tell them than the wondrous story of the dying love of the Lord Jesus. My business is to preach the gospel of Christ; and when I can speak at all, I dare not trifle with my commission. When I looked upon these people today, and, remembering where I should next meet them, how could I stand up and furnish food for vain curiosity— tickle their fancy with amusing stories, however decently strung together on a thread of religion? That is not what Christ meant when He said, ‘Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.’ When I meet my Master, I should not like Him to say to me, ‘I gave you one opportunity of telling those people about Me, and you let it slip that you might talk about yourself and your doings.’”