A Mother Dies that her Boy may Live.
When the California gold fever broke out, a man went there, leaving
his wife in New England with his boy. As soon as he got on and was
successful he was to send for them. It was a long time before he
succeeded, but at last he got money enough to send for them. The wife's
heart leaped for joy. She took her boy to New York, got on board a
Pacific steamer, and sailed away to San Francisco. They had not been
long at sea before the cry of "Fire! fire!" rang through the ship, and
rapidly it gained on them. There was a powder magazine on board, and the
captain knew the moment the fire reached the powder, every man, woman,
and child must perish. They got out the life-boats, but they were too
small! In a minute they were overcrowded. The last one was just pushing
away, when the mother pled with them to take her and her boy. "No," they
said, "we have got as many as we can hold." She entreated them so
earnestly, that at last they said they would take one more. Do you think
she leaped into that boat and left her boy to die? No! She seized her
boy, gave him one last hug, kissed him, and dropped him over into the
boat. "My boy," she said, "if you live to see your father, tell him that
I died in your place." That is a faint type of what Christ has done for
us. He laid down his life for us. He died that we might live. Now will
you not love Him? What would you say of that young man if he should
speak contemptuously of such a mother! She went down to a watery grave
to save her son. Well, shall we speak contemptuously of such a Saviour?
May God make us loyal to Christ! My friends, you will need Him one day.
You will need Him when you come to cross the swellings of Jordan. You
will need Him when you stand at the bar of God. May God forbid that when
death draws nigh it should find you making light of the precious blood
of Christ!
A Man Drinks up a Farm.
A few years ago, I was going away to preach one Sunday morning, when a
young man drove up in front of us. He had an aged woman with him. "Who
is that young man?" I asked. "Do you see that beautiful meadow?" said my
friend, "and that land there with the house upon it?" "Yes" "His father
drank that all up," said he. Then he went on to tell me all about him.
His father was a great drunkard, squandered his property, died, and left
his wife in the poor-house. "And that young man," he said, "is one of
the finest young men I ever knew. He has toiled hard and earned money,
and bought back the land; he has taken his mother out of the poor-house,
and now he is taking her to church." I thought, that is an illustration
for me. The first Adam in Eden sold us for naught, but the Messiah, the
second Adam, came and bought us back again. The first Adam brought us to
the poor-house, as it were; the second Adam makes us kings and priests
unto God. That is redemption. We get in Christ all that Adam lost, and
more. Men look on the blood of Christ with scorn and contempt, but the
time is coming when the blood of Christ will be worth more than all the
kingdoms of the world.
All Right or all Wrong.
I remember when in the old country a young man came to me--a
minister--and said he wanted to talk with me. He said to me: "Mr. Moody,
you are either all right and I am all wrong, or else I am right, and you
are all wrong." "Well, sir," said I, "You have the advantage of me. You
have heard me preach, and you know what doctrines I hold, whereas I have
not heard you, and don't know what you preach." "Well," said he, "the
difference between your preaching and mine is that you make out that
salvation is got by Christ's death, and I make out that it is attained
by His life." "Now, what do you do with the passages bearing upon the
death?" and I quoted the passages, "Without the shedding of blood there
is no remission," and "He Himself bore our own sins by His own body on
the tree," and asked him what he did with them, for instance. "Never
preach them at all." I quoted a number of passages more, and he gave me
the same answer. "Well, what do you preach?" I finally asked. "Moral
essays," he replied. Said I, "Did you ever know anybody to be saved by
that kind of thing, did you ever convert anybody by them?" "I never
aimed at that kind of conversion; I meant to get men to heaven by
culture--by refinement." "Well," said I, "If I didn't preach those
texts, and only preached culture, the whole thing would be a sham." "And
it is a sham to me," was his reply. I tell you the moment a man breaks
away from this doctrine of blood, religion becomes a sham, because the
whole teaching of this book is of one story, and this is, that Christ
came into the world and died for our sins.
The Fettered Bird Freed.
A friend in Ireland once met a little Irish boy who had caught a
sparrow. The poor little bird was trembling in his hand, and seemed very
anxious to escape. The gentleman begged the boy to let it go, as the
bird could not do him any good; but the boy said he would not; for he
had chased it three hours before he could catch it. He tried to reason
it out with the boy, but in vain. At last he offered to buy the bird;
the boy agreed to the price, and it was paid. Then the gentleman took
the poor little thing and held it out on his hand. The boy had been
holding it very fast, for the boy was stronger than the bird, just as
Satan is stronger than we, and there it sat for a time, scarcely able to
realize the fact that it had got liberty; but in a little while it flew
away, chirping, as if to say to the gentleman, "Thank you! thank you!
you have redeemed me." That is what redemption is--buying back and
setting free. So Christ came back to break the fetters of sin, to open
the prison doors and set the sinner free. This is the good news, the
gospel of Christ--"Ye are not redeemed with corruptible things, as
silver and gold, but with the precious blood of Christ."