"Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said"--
"Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will
give you rest."--Matt. xi. 28.
The Gracious Invitation.
Gracious "word" of a gracious Saviour, on which the soul may confidingly
repose, and be at peace for ever? It is a _present_ rest--the rest of
_grace_ as well as the rest of _glory_. Not only are there signals of
peace hung out from the walls of heaven--the lights of Home glimmering
in the distance to cheer our footsteps; but we have the "shadow" of this
"great Rock" in a _present_ "weary land." Before the Throne alone is
there "the sea of glass," without one rippling wave; but there is a
haven even on earth for the tempest-tossed--"We which have believed DO
enter into rest."
Reader, hast thou found this blessed repose in the blood and work of
Immanuel? Long going about "seeking rest and finding none," does this
"word" sound like music in thine ears--"_Come unto Me_?" All other peace
is counterfeit, shadowy, unreal. The eagle spurns the gilded cage as a
poor equivalent for his free-born soarings. The soul's immortal
aspirations can be satisfied with nothing short of the possession of
God's favour and love in Jesus.
How unqualified is the invitation! If there had been one condition in
entering this covenant Ark, we must have been through eternity at the
mercy of the storm. But all are alike warranted and welcome, and none
_more_ warranted than welcome. For the weak, the weary, the sin-burdened
and sorrow-burdened, there is an open door of grace.
Return, then unto thy rest, O my soul! Let the sweet cadence of this
"word of Jesus" steal on thee amid the disquietudes of earth. Sheltered
in Him, thou art safe for time, safe for eternity! There may be, and
_will_ be, temporary tossings, fears, and misgivings,--manifestations of
inward corruption; but these will only be like the surface-heavings of
the ocean, while underneath there is a deep settled calm. "Thou wilt
keep him in perfect peace" (_lit._ peace, peace) "whose mind is stayed
on Thee." In the world it is care on care, trouble on trouble, sin on
sin; but every wave that breaks on the believer's soul seems sweetly to
murmur, "Peace, peace!"
And if the foretaste of this rest be precious, what must be the glorious
consummation? Awaking in the morning of immortality, with the unquiet
dream of earth over--faith lost in sight, and hope in fruition;--no more
any bias to sin--no more latent principles of evil--nothing to disturb
the spirit's deep, everlasting tranquillity--the trembling magnet of
the heart reposing, where alone it can confidingly and permanently rest,
in the enjoyment of the Infinite God.
"THESE THINGS HAVE I SPOKEN UNTO YOU, THAT IN ME YE MIGHT HAVE PEACE."