“AT this time of year many houses withdraw their travelers and practically close their business.”
That time is the brief interval between Christmas and New Year; for it is then that not only are days the shortest, but, as if by common consent, everyone must have a holiday, and a laying aside of business that is not absolutely unavoidable. Hence it was that the above sentence was uttered.
He who spoke was a commercial traveler, and he apparently was not over well pleased with the result of his day’s labor. He had taken few orders, and found his ordinary customers little inclined to deal with him.
He seemed therefore depressed. I felt for him, as he, in a friendly manner, opened his heart to a stranger, and I longed to lead his thoughts to a line of things where disappointment need never be.
Hence I said that I knew a House which never closed, and whose travelers could always find more business than they could possibly accomplish!
He was surprised, and asked what House that could be.
In reply I told him that I alluded to His House who said to His servant, “Go out into the highways and hedges, and compel them to come in, that my House may be filled” (Luke 14:2323And the lord said unto the servant, Go out into the highways and hedges, and compel them to come in, that my house may be filled. (Luke 14:23)). He who speaks here is God. It is therefore God’s House that is Heaven. The servant is sent forth on his errand of mercy, and his one business is to “compel” people to come in, in order that the House may be filled. Wonderful thought! Then I told my foot-traveler, as we journeyed together in the train, that the work of Christ’s servants is to invite others to the joys of that House. Their work has lasted continuously now for above eighteen hundred years―the House is not yet filled (shortly, though, the last seat may be taken), and that my happy business at that very moment, ere the year should close, was to invite him!
“Will you come?” said I.
But come where? To a House? Nay, more!
To a feast? Nay, more! To a sinner’s Saviour?
Yes, and to pardon, and love, and life! To God!
Yes, and to a Father-God, and His Father’s House, and all the joys and bliss of eternal heaven.
“Will you come?” I asked him.
I felt a little of the glorious dignity of being a traveler for such a House at that moment, and that from my lips went forth such a divine invitation―“Will you come?” For how soon may heaven’s “Come” be changed to eternity’s “Depart,” and the long bright year of salvation sink into everlasting night―how soon!
“Will you come?” was my query.
“We cannot always answer that question,” was the withering rejoinder.
Why not? If God says to a sinner “Come,” why should he not respond?
Just because he does not want to. His wicked will is at work. That is the reason!
And I, too, was disappointed in this particular case. But who, after all, is the loser?
So I thought that if you won’t, someone else will, That House is to be filled somehow, and Christ’s travelers must just go on in quest of those who feel their need, and who by His grace will spring to His invitation. Only, ye rejecters, take heed; this call, this “Come, and welcome!” may not bide your time nor your pleasure. You will hear it once for the last time―and then?
“Come” or “Depart” which? “Come unto me,” or “Depart from me”? One or other it must be! But, reader, which?
Once more, “Will you come?”
J. W. S.