no difference with a soul whether it comes up to His judgment seat out
of a life of selfish ease and indulgence or out of a life of
self-sacrifice and restraint? When every possible offer of mercy is
held out to men on earth and they will not accept it, will it be all
the same as if they had availed themselves of it, when they come before
the judgment seat of Christ? Why, that would be to mock at the meaning
of the Incarnation and the Atonement. It would be to cast scorn and
contempt on the agony in the Garden and the Crucifixion. It would make
unnecessary all the prayer and preaching. What possible need is there
for men to preach a gospel of salvation unless there is danger of
condemnation? If we are all going to be saved anyway, no matter
whether we accept God's love in Christ or not, of what use is the
Church? Why should we be anxious any more about our children? What
difference does it make whether they go to the bad here in this world,
if in the world to come they will all be saved? For eternity will be
so much grander and sweeter and more enduring than time, that we might
as well take it easy here and not pay much attention to the message,
'God so loved the world'--that is, if we are going to be saved anyway.
"Why should we care very much if it does say in the revelation of God's
Word that the wicked shall go away into everlasting punishment, if we
don't believe it? Why, the wicked will stand just as good a chance of
eternal glory as the good, if the judgment seat of Christ does not mean
a separation of the good from the bad. Let us close our churches and
go home. Let us eat and drink and dance and be merry, for to-morrow we
die; and after death the judgment, and after the judgment glory and joy
and power and peace and life eternal in the presence of God. It is
true we scorned Him on earth, but that will make no difference; He will
receive us just the same. It is true we refused to believe in His only
begotten Son after all He suffered of shame and agony for us; but that
makes no difference; He will say, 'Enter thou into the joy of thy
Lord.' It is true we made fun of Christians, and mocked at prayer and
sneered at faith; but that is not much to be afraid of. It is true we
hated our neighbour, and would not forgive an insult; but that is a
little thing. It is true when the Holy Spirit pleaded with us a year
or six months ago to confess Christ in public we told Him to leave us;
we were ashamed to do it in the presence of men, to confess Him who
spread out His arms on a cross of bitterest agony for us; but for all
that we feel sure that when we march up to the judgment seat of Christ
He will treat us just the same as He treats the disciples who have laid
down their lives for the Master.
"Then let us tear out of the Bible every line that speaks of
retribution or punishment or judgment--for we don't like those
passages: they hurt our feelings,--and let us leave only those words
that speak of love and mercy and forgiveness: for those words are the
only ones that can be true; for those words don't make us feel
uncomfortable.
"Away with everything that hurts our feelings, that makes us anxious,
that sends us to our knees in prayer, that makes us confess Christ and
live a life of self-denial and service! for when the judgment seat is
prepared and Christ sits down there and we appear before Him, He will
receive us just as we come before Him--the pure and the impure; the
self-sacrificing and the selfish; the humble and the proud; the
believer and the unbeliever; infidels and scoffers and cowards and
despisers of God's love on the earth; all the class of men who point to
weak and imperfect Christians as an excuse for their own weak lives;
the drunkards and the liars and the oppressors of the poor; the people
who heard a thousand sermons full of Gospel truth and despised them
because of some imperfection in delivery or elocution; all those men
who went through life the betrayers of the home; the selfish
politicians, who betrayed their country; the men who read the Bible and
believed only the parts that didn't hurt their sensitive feelings; the
young men who lived fast lives and sowed wild oats because a wicked and
false public sentiment made them think it was excusable and perhaps
necessary; and all other men and women who lived as they pleased,
regardless of God and eternity--when all these shall appear before the
judgment seat of Christ He will look upon them all alike, and with a
smile of gracious pardon will reach out His almighty arm and sweep them
all together into a heaven of eternal bliss, there to reign with Him in
glory and power, world without end!
"But is this what Christ taught the world? Suppose what we have said
is true: it turns His whole life into a splendid mockery. Foolishness
and absurdity could go no further than to create a life like His and to
put into His mouth such teachings as we have received, if at the
judgment seat all souls, regardless of their acts in this world, are
received on an equal footing into eternal life. And where is there any
room in the teaching of Christ for a purgatory? Do we believe that
there is one? Is it not the plain teaching that after the judgment the
destiny of souls is fixed for ever?
"But what could man wish more? Will he not have opportunity enough to
accept the mercy of God before that time? Does he not have
opportunity? If any soul appears at the judgment and complains that he
did not have a fair chance, will that gracious Judge condemn him if his
complaint be true? We know He will not. But the facts of the judgment
are these: at that time, whenever it is, upon the souls of men will be
passed for their acts in the earthly life a verdict that will determine
their everlasting destiny; and that verdict will be both just and
merciful. For the Crucified One could not pronounce otherwise. Those
who have despised and neglected and disbelieved and refused to confess
Him, shall be separated from Him for ever; but those who have confessed
and believed and tried to live like Him, shall be in His presence
continually. There will be a division of souls. It will not be based
on wealth or position, or birth or education, or genius, but on
Christlikeness--on that divine and eternal thing we call character.
Everything else shall go away into destruction, into death, into
punishment, into banishment from God. Banishment from God will be
hell--a hell not made by God, but by man himself, who had an
opportunity--nay, a thousand opportunities--every day of his life to
accept the bliss of heaven, but of his own selfish choice rejected
every one of them and went to his own place.
"But some soul starts up and says, 'You are not preaching the Gospel;
you are preaching fear, hell, torments. Is this your boasted love of
God?' Yes; for what am I preaching, if not the love of God, when I
say, 'God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that
whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting
life?' Is there no danger of perishing? Why did Christ come then?
Why did He say the things He did? Why did He speak of the condemnation
of the wicked and unbelieving if that were not a part of the Gospel?
The Gospel is glad tidings; but what makes it glad tidings? The danger
we are in. What is salvation? It is the opposite of being lost. We
cannot have one without the other. So I am preaching the Gospel here
to-day when I say, 'We must all appear before the judgment seat of
Christ.' There will be no fear to us then if we believe in Him, if we
have lived His life here, if the things done in the body are good. And
more than that: as long as this earth life continues, God's mercy is
with us every moment.
"It is possible some soul is here who for years has lived selfishly
within his own little round of pleasure. He looks back on a life of
uselessness, of neglect of all that Christ did for him. He this day
hears the voice of God. He listens; he repents; he cries out, smiting
on his breast, 'God be merciful to me a sinner!' What then will God
do? Will He reject him because he is old in sin? because he has wasted
beautiful years? When he appears before the judgment seat will Christ
say, 'You repented too late on earth! You cannot be saved now'? No!
even if after a hundred years of shame and sin a soul with its outgoing
breath, in genuine repentance and faith in the Son of God, cries out
for mercy, that cry will be answered and he will be saved. What less
of glory and power such a soul may experience in the realms of glory,
we may not be able to tell. But he himself will be saved.
"Is not God merciful, then? Let no man depart from this house of God
fearful or despairing. The earthly life is full from beginning to end
with the love of an Almighty Father. Shall men complain because they
cannot have all of this life and all of the other too in which to
repent and be forgiven? 'Now is the accepted time; behold, now is the
day of salvation.' 'To-day if ye will hear His voice, harden not your
hearts.'
"Men of Barton, you have heard the word of God proclaimed from this
desk to-day. Young men, will you wait until you are old in sin and
shame before you will repent and be saved? How do you know you will
live to be old men? And what a life to live, even if you were sure of
a hundred years, to pour out the dregs at last as an offering to Christ
just to escape hell! O all men, hear ye this day the message of
Christ! He is a Saviour of sinners. It is not necessary that any man
go away from this service unsaved. You may believe here and now.
Won't you do it? 'Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be
saved.' Then go home and pray, rejoicing. And if the Almighty call
you out and away from this prison of clay into His resplendent presence
this very night, what will you have to fear? Not one thing. You have
put your trust in Him. Your sins are all forgiven. You can appear
before His judgment seat and await your verdict with a calm and joyful
soul. For you know as you gaze into the loving countenance of your
Redeemer and Judge that when He turns and speaks to you He will say,
'Come, ye blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you
from the foundation of the world.' Truly God is love!"
The prayer that followed the sermon seemed to bring all the souls in
the church very close to God. The events of the past week had stirred
the town deeply. The awful disaster so near them; the speech of Mr.
Hardy in the town hall; rumours of the experience he was having--all
these had prepared the audience for just such a sermon on Sunday
morning. Men bowed their heads and prayed in that house who had not
done such a thing sincerely in many years.
Robert had many inquiries concerning himself and Clara to answer at the
close of the service. He finally went up and thanked the minister for
what he had said, and spoke as he never had spoken before in
encouragement of his pastor's work. But it seemed to him that he must
hasten homewards. The time was growing short; he must have the rest of
it with the dear ones in the home.
What need to describe the details of the afternoon? Robert Hardy had
the joy of knowing that all his children were with him, and at dark
James came over and asked if he might join the circle. He did not know
all that Mr. Hardy had gone through, but the children had told him
enough to make him want to be with the family.
"Why, come right in and join the circle, James! You're one of us,"
cried Mr. Hardy cheerfully. So James drew up his chair, and
conversation was continued. They were sitting in the room upstairs,
where Clara lay facing an open fire. The doctor had called in the
middle of the afternoon, and brought two other skilled surgeons and
physicians at Mr. Hardy's request. It was a singular case, and nothing
special could be done. This was the unanimous opinion after deep
consultation, and after remaining some time the doctors had withdrawn.
When it grew dark, Alice started to turn on the lights, but her father
said: "Let us sit in the firelight." So they drew close together, and
in an awe looked upon him who seemed so sure that. God would call him
away at midnight. Who shall recount the words that were uttered? the
exact sentences spoken? the fears and hopes and petitions and tears of
the wife? the commands of the father to his boys to grow up into the
perfect manhood in Jesus Christ? the sweet words of love and courage
that passed between him and his wife and daughters? These things
cannot be described; they can only be imagined.
So the night passed. It was after eleven o'clock; the conversation had
almost ceased and all were sitting hushed in a growing silence, when
Clara spoke again, so suddenly and clearly that they were all startled
and awed by it:
"Father! mother! where have I been? I have had such a dream! Where
are you? Where am I?"
Mrs. Hardy arose, and with tears streaming down her face kneeled beside
the bed and in a few words recalled Clara to her surroundings. The
girl had come out of her strange unconsciousness with all her faculties
intact. Gradually she recalled the past, the accident, the dream of
her father. She smiled happily on them all, and they for a while
forgot the approach of midnight and its possible meaning to Mr.
Hardy--all but himself. He kneeled by the bed, at the side of his
wife, and thanked God that his dear one was restored. Suddenly he rose
to his feet and spoke aloud, quietly, but clearly: "Did you not hear
someone calling?" His face was pale but peaceful. He bent down and
kissed Clara, embraced his sons, drew his wife to him, and placed his
hand on Bessie's head; then, as if in answer to a command, he gently
kneeled down again by his chair and as his lips moved in prayer the
clock struck once more the hour of twelve. He continued kneeling
there, nearer God than he had ever been in all his life before.
Thus Robert Hardy's Seven Days came to an end.