of a true Christian life. How does the believer at his conversion set out
for heaven with the consciousness that Christ is with him. How, after the
throes of conviction are past, does he expatiate in the sweet peace of
believing, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God. How little dreams the
convert of coming danger. How propitious the opening of his voyage. Often
is his course so quiet that he suspends his watch, and loses sight of the
near presence of Christ. Seasons come when he grows negligent, and perhaps
feels no more of Christ's near presence with him than the disciples on the
sea thought of their sleeping Master. Christ is not gone from him; but his
ardent love towards Him has abated, and he no longer has that felt
consciousness of His value he once had, nor does he realize his dependence
as he should.
Trials come; temptations thicken; doubts and fears arise; Satan harasses
him, and inward corruptions start into life again. Then is the soul
tossed, like the disciples on the sea; then does the struggling believer
look round for his Saviour, and cry, "Save, Lord, or I perish." Such
trials of our faith come in the regular course of a Christian towards the
other side, like the storm-belts near the tropics which lie in the
sailor's route from one hemisphere to the other, and through which he must
steer his way.
You and I, Christian, have sailed in such latitudes, and heard the winds
of temptation blow, and felt the waves of distress dash over our frail
bark. Thus we learned our weakness; thus were we humbled; thus were we
taught to watch and pray; thus did we fly to Christ, and cry, "Lord,
carest thou not that we perish?"
And it was his voice alone that stilled the tempest, and hushed the
conflict of the soul. How sweet the peace of the believer after seasons of
sore spiritual temptations! Great is the peace felt in the new-born soul
when first it hears the voice of forgiveness; but there are other scenes,
subsequent experiences, when, after fierce contests with lusts and
passions, the Saviour gives the victory. Then when it is over there is a
deeper tranquillity in the soul than was ever felt before. Then when we
have weathered out the rough gales, and the heart has become sanctified
and humbled, and we have got as it were out of sight of land on this
side, then do we reach a clearer atmosphere, and enjoy the refreshing
gales of the Spirit, which, like the trade-winds, bear us steadily along
to port.
It appears that the disciples' expedition over the sea of Galilee was
propitious in its beginning and at its close: their troubles lay along the
middle passage. We may remark how this is generally the case with the
Christian's voyage to heaven. Generally his latter course is tranquil as
he draws near to the other side. Ofttimes indeed he catches glimpses of
the shining shore, and on the sunlit hills beyond descries something like
the domes and turrets of the celestial city. Ofttimes when well over
towards the other side faith brightens almost into vision; he seems to
hear the distant music, and grows impatient to step ashore. We watch his
dying pillow till his heaving breast lies still. He has reached his
eternal home; he has passed over unto the other side.
I have thus endeavored to employ the narrative of the evangelist to
illustrate some of the prominent features of a Christian's life. He
leaves the world of sin and vanity in obedience to the effectual call of
the Holy Spirit. His destination is the better country on the other side.
The Master who called him goes with him all the way, delivers him from the
trials and dangers which beset him, and guides him over the sea of life to
the heavenly shore.
How does this description compare with your own experience? Have you truly
obeyed the call of Christ, and embarked for the other side? While the
sailing order of our text is before you, it is a good time to heave the
lead, and take an observation. On what course are you sailing, and what
progress are you making in your voyage? Ah, may we not ask some who
professed once to leave all for Christ, whether after all the stir and
preparation of your setting sail you have not put back into the old port
you set out from? Are you not still living in your sins?
Others may not have travelled far, though it be months or years since you
started. Alas, there are not a few professing Christians who seem never to
lose sight of land this side. Years may have fled, but they have not got
many leagues at sea yet. Clinging to earthly things; in love with the
pleasures, fashions, and follies of this life; hankering for wealth or
position, they do little else than hug these shores of vanity, and coast
along among the green isles of temptation which are near them. Heave the
lead, my brother, and see where you are. The Master's orders are, "_To the
other side_." And if you have been loitering in these waters of
worldliness and carnality, it becomes you, by repentance, prayer, and
self-denial, to change your course and steer straight for heaven.
Others in the heavenly voyage may have reached the storm-belts, where
dangers threaten and skies grow dark. The waves of affliction dash over
the soul; doubts and misgivings trouble you; crosses and discouragements
beset your way, and often you tremble lest you be a castaway: but courage,
my brother; if _Christ_ be with you, you need not fear. Call to Jesus in
the storm, and you shall ride it out. Think not that you have lost your
course. If Christ be in the ship, if the soul has found him near, then
head right to the wind and keep your course for heaven. "These light
afflictions, which are but for a moment, work out for us an exceeding and
eternal weight of glory."
And, my aged friends, may I not describe you as well-nigh over the sea of
life, and nearing the other shore? Tell us, ye weather-beaten saints, have
you not got through the rough middle passage, and heard the voice of Jesus
say to the storms, "Peace, be still?" Scores of years have passed since
you embarked with Christ; the world has changed, you have changed, and you
are evidently nearing port: tell us, do you not feel that the night is far
spent, and the day is at hand? Is not Christ nearer and nearer to you by
faith, and do you not hope to be with him soon in glory?
Christian, don't you sometimes see land on the other side? Are not the
hills of Beulah in the distance, and the celestial gates? Oh tell us, as
you near the other side does not faith catch glimpses of the redeemed and
the Redeemer? Christian, you are almost home. Death will soon furl the
sail, and moor you by the shore.
My impenitent friend, the call of the gospel comes to you substantially in
our text to "pass over unto the other side." Oh when will you give up this
world, and live for heaven? Though you may refuse to obey the call, you
cannot stay here long. Life has another side, and you must, ere long,
depart. There is an eternity to which you are going--a dim, dark, dismal
shore, on which you will be cast at death, far off from heaven.