"Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit."--Luke, xxiii. 46.
In the death of Jesus, there were elements of fearfulness, which the
believer can know nothing of. It was with Him the execution of a penal
sentence. The sins of an elect world were bearing him down! The very
voice of His God was giving the tremendous summons, "Awake, O sword,
against my shepherd!" Yet His was a death of _peace_, nay, of _triumph_!
Ere He closed His eyes, light broke through the curtains of thick
darkness. In the calm composure of filial confidence He breathed away
His soul--"Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit!" What was the
secret of such tranquillity? This is His own key to it--"I have
glorified Thee on the earth; I have finished the work which Thou gavest
me to do."
Reader! will it be so with _you_ at a dying hour? will _your_ "work" be
done? Have you already fled to Jesus? Are you reposing in Him as your
only Saviour, and following Him as your only pattern? Then--let death
overtake you when it may--you will have nothing to do _but to die_! The
grave will be irradiated with His presence and smile. He will be
standing there as He did by His own tomb of old, pointing to yours,
tenanted with angel forms, nay, Himself as the "Precursor," showing you
"_the path of life!_" There can be no true peace till the fear of death
be conquered by the sense of sin forgiven, through "the blood of the
Cross." "Not till then," as one has it, "will you be able to be a quiet
spectator of the open grave at the bottom of the hill which you are soon
to descend." "The sting of death is _sin_, but thanks be to God who
giveth us the victory through the Lord Jesus Christ!"
Seek now to live in the enjoyment of greater filial nearness to your
covenant God; and thus, when the hour of departure _does_ come, you will
be able, without irreverence, to take the very words of your dying Lord,
and make them your own--"FATHER! into Thy hands I commend my spirit."
FATHER! It is going HOME! the heart of the child leaping at the thought
of the paternal roof, and the paternal welcome! "Son, thou art ever with
me, and all that I have is thine!"
It is said of Archbishop Leighton, that he "was always happiest when,
from the shaking of the prison-doors, he was led to hope that some of
those brisk blasts would throw them open, and give him the release he
coveted." Christian! can you dread _that_ which your Saviour has already
vanquished? _Death!_ It is as the angel to Peter, breaking the
dungeon-doors, and leading to open day; it is going to the world of your
birthright, and leaving the one of your exile; "it is the soldier at
night-fall, lying down in his tent in peace, waiting the morning to
receive his laurels." Oh! to be ever living in a state of holy
preparation! the mental eye gazing on the vista-view of an opening
Heaven! feeling that _every moment_ is bringing us nearer and nearer
that happy _Home_! soon to be within reach of the Heavenly threshold, in
sight of the Throne! soon to be bending in adoring rapture with the
Church triumphant--bathing in floods of infinite glory--"LIKE
HIM,"--"seeing HIM _as He is_," and that _for Ever and Ever_!
"AND EVERY MAN THAT HATH THIS HOPE IN HIM PURIFIETH HIMSELF,
EVEN AS HE IS PURE!"