world. It is but a little while; we know not when, but it is sure to
come. God's word has gone forth that this world shall be rolled
together like a scroll, and shall be on fire. What then will become of
your soul? It is a loving call, "Now come, thou and all thy house,
into the ark." Twenty four hours before the rain began to fall, Noah's
ark, if it had been sold at auction, would not have brought as much as
it would be worth for kindling wood. But twenty four hours after the
rain began to fall, Noah's ark was worth more than all the world.
There was not then a man living but would have given all he was worth
for a seat in the ark. You may turn away and laugh.
"I believe in Christ!" you say; "I would rather be without Him than
have Him."
But bear in mind, the time is coming when Christ will be worth more to
you than ten thousand worlds like this. Bear in mind that He is
offered to you now. This is a day of grace; it is a day of mercy. You
will find, if you read your Bible carefully, that God always precedes
judgment with grace. Grace is a forerunner of judgment. He called
these men in the days of Noah in love. They would have been saved if
they had repented in those one hundred and twenty years. When Christ
came to plead with the people in Jerusalem, it was their day of grace;
but they mocked and laughed at Him. He said: "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem,
thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto
thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a
hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not!" Forty
years afterward, thousands of the people begged that their lives might
be spared; and eleven hundred thousand perished in that city.
In 1857 a revival swept over this country in the east and on to the
western cities, clear over to the Pacific coast. It was God calling
the nation to Himself. Half a million people united with the Church at
that time. Then the war broke out. We were baptized with the Holy
Ghost in 1857, and in 1861 we were baptized in blood. It was a call of
mercy, preceding judgment.
Are Your Children Safe?
The text which I have selected has a special application to Christian
people and to parents. This command of the Scripture was given to Noah
not only for his own safety, but that of his household, and the
question which I put to each father and mother is this: "Are your
children in the ark of God?" You may scoff at it, but it is a very
important question. Are all your children in? Are all your
grandchildren in? Don't rest day or night until you get your children
in. I believe my children have fifty temptations where I had one. I am
one of those who believe that in the great cities there is a snare set
upon the corner of every street for our sons and daughters; and I
don't believe it is our business to spend our time in accumulating
bonds and stocks. Have I done all I can to get my children in? That is
it.
Now, let me ask another question: What would have been Noah's feelings
if, when God called him into the ark, his children would not have gone
with him? If he had lived such a false life that his children had no
faith in his word, what would have been his feelings? He would have
said: "There is my poor boy on the mountain. Would to God I had died
in his place! I would rather have perished than had him perish." David
cried over his son: "Oh, my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom, would
God I had died for thee!" Noah loved his children, and they had
confidence in him.
Someone sent me a paper a number of years ago, containing an article
that was marked. Its title was: "Are all the children in?" An old wife
lay dying. She was nearly one hundred years of age, and the husband
who had taken the journey with her, sat by her side. She was just
breathing faintly, but suddenly she revived, opened her eyes, and
said:
"Why! it is dark."
"Yes, Janet, it is dark."
"Is it night?"
"Oh, yes! it is midnight."
"Are all the children in?"
There was that old mother living life over again. Her youngest child
had been in the grave twenty years, but she was traveling back into
the old days, and she fell asleep in Christ asking, "Are all the
children in?"
Dear friend, are they all in? Put the question to yourself now. Is
John in? Is James in? Or is he immersed in business and pleasure? Is
he living a double and dishonest life? Say! where is your boy, mother?
Where is your son, your daughter? Is it well with your children? Can
you say it is?
After being superintendent of a Sunday school in Chicago for a number
of years, a school of over a thousand members, children that came from
godless homes, having mothers and fathers working against me, taking
the children off on excursions on Sunday, and doing all they could to
break up the work I was trying to do, I used to think that if I should
ever stand before an audience I would speak to no one but parents;
that would be my chief business. It is an old saying--"Get the lamb,
and you will get the sheep." I gave that up years ago. Give me the
sheep, and then I will have someone to nurse the lamb; but get a lamb
and convert him, and if he has a godless father and mother, you will
have little chance with that child. What we want is godly homes. The
home was established long before the Church.
I have no sympathy with the idea that our children have to grow up
before they are converted. Once I saw a lady with three daughters at
her side, and I stepped up to her and asked her if she was a
Christian.
"Yes, sir."
Then I asked the oldest daughter if she was a Christian. The chin
began to quiver, and the tears came into her eyes, and she said,
"I wish I was."
The mother looked very angrily at me and said, "I don't want you to
speak to my children on that subject. They don't understand." And in
great rage she took them all away from me. One daughter was fourteen
years old, one twelve, and the other ten, but they were not old enough
to be talked to about religion. Let them drift into the world and
plunge into worldly amusements, and then see how hard it is to reach
them. Many a mother is mourning to-day because her boy has gone beyond
her reach, and will not allow her to pray with him. She may pray _for_
him, but he will not let her pray or talk _with_ him. In those early
days when his mind was tender and young, she might have led him to
Christ. Bring them in. "Suffer the little children to come unto Me."
Is there a prayerless father reading this? May God let the arrow go
down into your soul! Make up your mind that, God helping you, you will
get the children in. God's order is to the father first, but if he
isn't true to his duty, then the mother should be true, and save the
children from the wreck. Now is the time to do it while you have them
under your roof. Exert your parental influence over them.
I never speak to parents but I think of two fathers, one of whom lived
on the banks of the Mississippi, the other in New York. The first one
devoted all his time to amassing wealth. He had a son to whom he was
much attached, and one day the boy was brought home badly injured. The
father was informed that the boy could live but a short time, and he
broke the news to his son as gently as possible.
"You say I cannot live, father? O! then pray for my soul," said the
boy.
In all those years that father had never said a prayer for that boy,
and he told him he couldn't. Shortly after, the boy died. That father
has said since that he would give all that he possessed if he could
call that boy back only to offer one short prayer for him.
The other father had a boy who had been sick some time, and he came
home one day and found his wife weeping. She said:
"I cannot help but believe that this is going to prove fatal."
The man started, and said: "If you think so, I wish you would tell
him."
But the mother could not tell her boy. The father went to the sick
room, and he saw that death was feeling for the cords of life, and he
said:
"My son, do you know you are not going to live?"
The little fellow looked up and said: "No; is this death that I feel
stealing over me? Will I die to-day?"
"Yes, my son, you cannot live the day out."
And the little fellow smiled and said: "Well, father, I shall be with
Jesus tonight, shan't I?"
"Yes, you will spend the night with the Lord," and the father broke
down and wept.
The little fellow saw the tears, and said: "Don't weep for me. I will
go to Jesus and tell Him that ever since I can remember you have
prayed for me."
I have three children, and if God should take them from me, I would
rather have them take such a message home to Him than to have the
wealth of the whole world. Oh! would to God I could say something to
stir you, fathers and mothers, to get your children into the ark.
HUMILITY.
"Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart."--Matthew 11:29.
There is no harder lesson to learn than the lesson of humility. It is
not taught in the schools of men, only in the school of Christ. It is
the rarest of all the gifts. Very rarely do we find a man or woman who
is following closely the footsteps of the Master in meekness and in
humility. I believe that it is the hardest lesson which Jesus Christ
had to teach His disciples while He was here upon earth. It almost
looked at first as though He had failed to teach it to the twelve men
who had been with Him almost constantly for three years.
I believe that if we are humble enough we shall be sure to get a great
blessing. After all, I think that more depends upon us than upon the
Lord, because He is always ready to give a blessing and give it
freely, but we are not always in a position to receive it. He always
blesses the humble, and, if we can get down in the dust before Him, no
one will go away disappointed. It was Mary at the feet of Jesus, who
had chosen the "better part."
Did you ever notice the reason Christ gave for learning of Him? He
might have said: "Learn of me, because I am the most advanced thinker
of the age. I have performed miracles that no man else has performed.
I have shown my supernatural power in a thousand ways." But no: the
reason He gave was that He was "meek, and lowly in heart."
We read of the three men in Scripture whose faces shone, and all three
were noted for their meekness and humility. We are told that the face
of Christ shone at His transfiguration; Moses, after he had been in
the mount for forty days, came down from his communion with God with a
shining face; and when Stephen stood before the Sanhedrim on the day
of his death, his face was lighted up with glory. If our faces are to
shine we must get into the valley of humility; we must go down in the
dust before God.
Bunyan says that it is hard to get down into the valley of
humiliation, the descent into it is steep and rugged; but that it is
very fruitful and fertile and beautiful when once we get there. I
think that no one will dispute that; almost every man, even the
ungodly, admires meekness.
Someone asked Augustine, what was the first of the religious graces,
and he said, "Humility." They asked him what was the second, and he
replied, "Humility." They asked him the third, and he said,
"Humility." I think that if we are humble, we have all the graces.
Some years ago I saw what is called a sensitive plant. I happened to
breathe on it, and suddenly it drooped its head; I touched it, and it
withered away. Humility is as sensitive as that; it cannot safely be
brought out on exhibition. A man who is flattering himself that he is
humble and is walking close to the Master, is self-deceived. It
consists not in thinking meanly of ourselves, but in not thinking of
ourselves at all. Moses wist not that his face shone. If humility
speaks of itself, it is gone.
Someone has said that the grass is an illustration of this lowly
grace. It was created for the lowliest service. Cut it, and it springs
up again. The cattle feed upon it, and yet how beautiful it is.
The showers fall upon the mountain peaks, and very often leave them
barren because they rush down into the meadows and valleys and make
the lowly places fertile. If a man is proud and lifted up, rivers of
grace may flow over him and yet leave him barren and unfruitful, while
they bring blessing to the man who has been brought low by the grace
of God.
A man can counterfeit love, he can counterfeit faith, he can
counterfeit hope and all the other graces, but it is very difficult to
counterfeit humility. You soon detect mock humility. They have a
saying in the East among the Arabs, that as the tares and the wheat
grow they show which God has blessed. The ears that God has blessed
bow their heads and acknowledge every grain, and the more fruitful
they are the lower their heads are bowed. The tares which God has sent
as a curse, lift up their heads erect, high above the wheat, but they
are only fruitful of evil. I have a pear tree on my farm which is very
beautiful; it appears to be one of the most beautiful trees on my
place. Every branch seems to be reaching up to the light and stands
almost like a wax candle, but I never get any fruit from it. I have
another tree, which was so full of fruit last year that the branches
almost touched the ground. If we only get down low enough, my friends,
God will use every one of us to His glory.
"As the lark that soars the highest builds her nest the lowest; as the
nightingale that sings so sweetly, sings in the shade when all things
rest; as the branches that are most laden with fruit, bend lowest; as
the ship most laden, sinks deepest in the water;--so the holiest
Christians are the humblest."
The _London Times_ some years ago told the story of a petition that
was being circulated for signatures. It was a time of great
excitement, and this petition was intended to have great influence in
the House of Lords; but there was one word left out. Instead of
reading, "We humbly beseech thee," it read, "We beseech thee." So it
was ruled out. My friends, if we want to make an appeal to the God of
Heaven, we must humble ourselves; and if we do humble ourselves before
the Lord, we shall not be disappointed.
As I have been studying some Bible characters that illustrate
humility, I have been ashamed of myself. If you have any regard for
me, pray that I may have humility. When I put my life beside the life
of some of these men, I say, Shame on the Christianity of the present
day. If you want to get a good idea of yourself, look at some of the
Bible characters that have been clothed with meekness and humility,
and see what a contrast is your position before God and man.
One of the meekest characters in history was John the Baptist. You
remember when they sent a deputation to him and asked if he was Elias,
or this prophet, or that prophet, he said, "No." Now he might have
said some very flattering things of himself. He might have said:
"I am the son of the old priest Zacharias. Haven't you heard of my
fame as a preacher? I have baptized more people probably, than any man
living. The world has never seen a preacher like myself."
I honestly believe that in the present day most men standing in his
position would do that. On the railroad train, some time ago, I heard
a man talking so loud that all the people in the car could hear him.
He said that he had baptized more people than any man in his
denomination. He told how many thousand miles he had traveled, how
many sermons he had preached, how many open-air services he had held,
and this and that, until I was so ashamed that I had to hide my head.
This is the age of boasting. It is the day of the great "I."
My attention was recently called to the fact that in all the Psalms
you cannot find any place where David refers to his victory over the
giant, Goliath. If it had been in the present day, there would have
been a volume written about it at once; I don't know how many poems
there would be telling of the great things that this man had done. He
would have been in demand as a lecturer, and would have added a title
to his name: G. G. K.,--Great Giant Killer. That is how it is to-day:
great evangelists, great preachers, great theologians, great bishops.
"John," they asked, "who are you?"
"I am nobody. I am to be heard, not to be seen. I am only a voice."
He hadn't a word to say about himself. I once heard a little bird
faintly singing close by me,--at last it got clear out of sight, and
then its notes were still sweeter. The higher it flew the sweeter
sounded its notes. If we can only get self out of sight and learn of
Him who was meek and lowly in heart we shall be lifted up into
heavenly places.
Mark tells us, in the first chapter and seventh verse, that John came
and preached saying, "There cometh one mightier than I after me, the
latchet of whose shoes I am not worthy to stoop down and unloose."
Think of that; and bear in mind that Christ was looked upon as a
deceiver, a village carpenter, and yet here is John, the son of the
old priest, who had a much higher position in the sight of men than
that of Jesus. Great crowds were coming to hear him, and even Herod
attended his meetings.
When his disciples came and told John that Christ was beginning to
draw crowds, he nobly answered: "A man can receive nothing, except it
be given him from heaven. Ye yourselves bear me witness that I said, I
am not the Christ, but that I am sent before Him. He that hath the
bride is the bridegroom: but the friend of the bridegroom, which
standeth and heareth him, rejoiceth greatly because of the
bridegroom's voice: this my joy therefore is fulfilled. He must
increase, but I must decrease."
It is easy to read that, but it is hard for us to live in the power of
it. It is very hard for us to be ready to decrease, to grow smaller
and smaller, that Christ may increase. The morning star fades away
when the sun rises.
"He that cometh from above is above all: he that is of the earth is
earthly, and speaketh of the earth: He that cometh from heaven is
above all, and what He hath seen and heard, that He testifieth; and no
man receiveth His testimony. He that hath received His testimony hath
set to his seal that God is true. For He whom God hath sent speaketh
the words of God: for God giveth not the Spirit by measure unto Him."
Let us now turn the light upon ourselves. Have we been decreasing of
late? Do we think less of ourselves and of our position than we did a
year ago? Are we seeking to obtain some position of dignity? Are we
wanting to hold on to some title, and are we offended because we are
not treated with the courtesy that we think is due us? Some time ago I
heard a man in the pulpit say that he should take offence if he was
not addressed by his title. My dear friend, are you going to take that
position that you must have a title, and that you must have every
letter addressed with that title or you will be offended? John did not
want any title, and when we are right with God, we shall not be caring
about titles. In one of his early epistles Paul calls himself the
"least of all the apostles." Later on he claims to be "less than the
least of all saints," and again, just before his death, humbly
declares that he is the "chief of sinners." Notice how he seems to
have grown smaller and smaller in his own estimation. So it was with
John. And I do hope and pray that as the days go by we may feel like
hiding ourselves, and let God have all the honor and glory.
"When I look back upon my own religious experience," says Andrew
Murray, "or round upon the Church of Christ in the world, I stand
amazed at the thought of how little humility is sought after as the
distinguishing feature of the discipleship of Jesus. In preaching and
living, in the daily intercourse of the home and social life, in the
more special fellowship with Christians, in the direction and
performance of work for Christ--alas! how much proof there is that
humility is not esteemed the cardinal virtue, the only root from which
the graces can grow, the one indispensable condition of true
fellowship with Jesus."
See what Christ says about John. "He was a burning and shining light."
Christ gave him the honor that belonged to him. If you take a humble
position, Christ will see it. If you want God to help you, then take a
low position.
I am afraid that if we had been in John's place, many of us would have
said: "What did Christ say,--I am a burning and shining light?" Then
we would have had that recommendation put in the newspapers, and would
have sent them to our friends, with that part marked in blue pencil.
Sometimes I get a letter just full of clippings from the newspapers,
stating that this man is more eloquent than Gough, etc. And the man
wants me to get him some church. Do you think that a man who has such
eloquence would be looking for a church? No, they would all be looking
for him.
My dear friends, isn't it humiliating? Sometimes I think it is a
wonder that any man is converted these days. Let another praise you.
Don't be around praising yourself. If we want God to lift us up, let
us get down. The lower we get, the higher God will lift us. It is
Christ's eulogy of John, "Greater than any man born of woman."
There is a story told of Carey, the great missionary, that he was
invited by the Governor-general of India to go to a dinner party at
which were some military officers belonging to the aristocracy, and
who looked down upon missionaries with scorn and contempt.
One of these officers said at the table: "I believe that Carey was a
shoemaker, wasn't he, before he took up the profession of a
missionary?"
Mr. Carey spoke up and said: "Oh no, I was only a cobbler. I could
mend shoes, and wasn't ashamed of it."
The one prominent virtue of Christ, next to His obedience, is His
humility; and even His obedience grew out of His humility. Being in
the form of God, He counted it not a thing to be grasped to be on an
equality with God, but He emptied Himself, taking the form of a
bond-servant, and was made in the likeness of men. And being found in
fashion as a man, He humbled Himself, and became obedient unto death,
yea, the death of the cross. In His lowly birth, His submission to His
earthly parents, His seclusion during thirty years, His consorting
with the poor and despised, His entire submission and dependence upon
His Father, this virtue that was consummated in His death on the
cross, shines out.
One day Jesus was on His way to Capernaum, and was talking about His
coming death and suffering, and about His resurrection, and He heard
quite a heated discussion going on behind Him. When He came into the
house at Capernaum, He turned to His disciples, and said:
"What was all that discussion about?"
I see John look at James, and Peter at Andrew,--and they all looked
ashamed. "Who shall be the greater?" That discussion has wrecked party
after party, one society after another--"Who shall be the greatest?"
The way Christ took to teach them humility was by putting a little
child in their midst and saying: "If you want to be great, take that
little child for an example, and he who wants to be the greatest, let
him be servant of all."
To me, one of the saddest things in all the life of Jesus Christ was
the fact that just before His crucifixion, His disciples should have
been striving to see who should be the greatest, that night He
instituted the Supper, and they ate the Passover together. It was His
last night on earth, and they never saw Him so sorrowful before. He
knew Judas was going to sell Him for thirty pieces of silver. He knew
that Peter would deny Him. And yet, in addition to this, when going
into the very shadow of the cross, there arose this strife as to who
should be the greatest. He took a towel and girded Himself like a
slave, and He took a basin of water and stooped and washed their feet.
That was another object lesson of humility. He said, "Ye call me Lord,
and ye do well. If you want to be great in my Kingdom, be servant of
all. If you serve, you shall be great."
When the Holy Ghost came, and those men were filled, from that time on
mark the difference: Matthew takes up his pen to write, and he keeps
Matthew out of sight. He tells what Peter and Andrew did, but he calls
himself Matthew "the publican." He tells how they left all to follow
Christ, but does not mention the feast he gave. Jerome says that
Mark's gospel is to be regarded as memoirs of Peter's discourses, and
to have been published by his authority. Yet here we constantly find
that damaging things are mentioned about Peter, and things to his
credit are not referred to. Mark's gospel omits all allusion to
Peter's faith in venturing on the sea, but goes into detail about the
story of his fall and denial of our Lord. Peter put himself down, and
lifted others up.
If the Gospel of Luke had been written to-day, it would be signed by
the great Dr. Luke, and you would have his photograph as a
frontispiece. But you can't find Luke's name; he keeps out of sight.
He wrote two books, and his name is not to be found in either. John
covers himself always under the expression--"the disciple whom Jesus
loved." None of the four men whom history and tradition assert to be
the authors of the gospels, lay claim to the authorship in their
writings. Dear man of God, I would that I had the same spirit, that I
could just get out of sight,--hide myself.
My dear friends, I believe our only hope is to be filled with the
Spirit of Christ. May God fill us, so that we shall be filled with
meekness and humility. Let us take the hymn, "O, to be nothing,
nothing," and make it the language of our hearts. It breathes the
spirit of Him who said: "The Son can do _nothing_ of Himself!"
Oh to be nothing, nothing!
Only to lie at His feet,
A broken and emptied vessel,
For the Master's use made meet.
Emptied, that He might fill me
As forth to His service I go;
Broken, that so unhindered,
His life through me might flow.
REST.
Some years ago a gentleman came to me and asked me which I thought was
the most precious promise of all those that Christ left. I took some
time to look them over, but I gave it up. I found that I could not
answer the question. It is like a man with a large family of children,
he cannot tell which he likes best; he loves them all. But if not the
best, this is one of the sweetest promises of all: "_Come unto Me, all
ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my
yoke upon you, and learn of Me, for I am meek and lowly in heart: and
ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and My burden
is light_."
There are a good many people who think the promises are not going to
be fulfilled. There are some that you do see fulfilled, and you cannot
help but believe they are true. Now remember that all the promises are
not given without conditions. Some are given with, and others without,
conditions attached to them. For instance, it says, "If I regard
iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear me." Now, I need not pray
as long as I am cherishing some known sin. He will not hear me, much
less answer me. The Lord says in the eighty fourth Psalm, "No good
thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly." If I am not
walking uprightly I have no claims under the promise. Again, some of
the promises were made to certain individuals or nations. For
instance, God said that He would make Abraham's seed to multiply as
the stars of heaven: but that is not a promise for you or me. Some
promises were made to the Jews, and do not apply to the Gentiles.
Then there are promises without conditions. He promised Adam and Eve
that the world should have a Savior, and there was no power in earth
or perdition that could keep Christ from coming at the appointed time.
When Christ left the world, He said He would send us the Holy Ghost.
He had only been gone ten days when the Holy Ghost came. And so you
can run right through the Scriptures, and you will find that some of
the promises are with, and some without, conditions; and if we don't
comply with the conditions we cannot expect them to be fulfilled.
I believe it will be the experience of every man and woman on the face
of the earth, I believe that everyone will be obliged to testify in
the evening of life, that if they have complied with the condition,
the Lord has fulfilled His word to the letter. Joshua, the old Hebrew
hero, was an illustration. After having tested God forty years in the
Egyptian brick-kilns, forty years in the desert, and thirty years in
the Promised Land, his dying testimony was: "Not one thing hath failed
of all the good things which the Lord promised." I believe you could
heave the ocean easier than break one of God's promises. So when we
come to a promise like the one we have before us now, I want you to
bear in mind that there is no discount upon it. "Come unto Me, all ye
that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."
Perhaps you say: "I hope Mr. Moody is not going to preach on this old
text." Yes: I am. When I take up an album, it does not interest me if
all the photographs are new; but if I know any of the faces. I stop at
once. So with these old, well-known texts. They have quenched our
thirst before, but the water is still bubbling up--we cannot drink it
dry.
If you probe the human heart, you will find a want, and that want is
rest. The cry of the world to day is, "Where can rest be found?" Why
are theaters and places of amusement crowded at night? What is the
secret of Sunday driving, of the saloons and brothels? Some think they
are going to get it in pleasure, others think they are going to get it
in wealth, and others in literature. They are seeking and finding no
rest.
Where Can Rest be Found?
If I wanted to find a person who had rest I would not go among the
very wealthy. The man that we read of in the twelfth chapter of Luke,
thought he was going to get rest by multiplying his goods, but he was
disappointed. "Soul, take thine ease." I venture to say that there is
not a person in this wide world who has tried to find rest in that way
and found it.
Money cannot buy it. Many a millionaire would gladly give millions if
he could purchase it as he does his stocks and shares. God has made
the soul a little too large for this world. Roll the whole world in,
and still there is room. There is care in getting wealth, and more
care in keeping it.
Nor would I go among the pleasure seekers. They have a few hours'
enjoyment, but the next day there is enough sorrow to counterbalance
it. They may drink the cup of pleasure to-day, but the cup of pain
comes on to-morrow.
To find rest I would never go among the politicians, or among the
so-called great. Congress is the last place on earth that I would go.
In the Lower House they want to go to the Senate; in the Senate they
want to go to the Cabinet; and then they want to go to the White
House; and rest has never been found there. Nor would I go among the
halls of learning. "Much study is a weariness to the flesh." I would
not go among the upper ten, the "bon-ton," for they are constantly
chasing after fashion. Have you not noticed their troubled faces on
our streets? And the face is index to the soul. They have no hopeful
look. Their worship of pleasure is slavery. Solomon tried pleasure,
and found bitter disappointment, and down the ages has come the bitter
cry, "All is vanity."
Now, there is no rest in sin. The wicked know nothing about it. The
Scriptures tell us the wicked "are like the troubled sea that cannot
rest." You have, perhaps been on the sea when there is a calm, when
the water is as clear as crystal, and it seemed as if the sea were at
rest. But if you looked you would see that the waves came in, and that
the calm was only on the surface. Man, like the sea, has no rest. He
has had no rest since Adam fell, and there is none for him until he
returns to God again, and the light of Christ shines into his heart.
Rest cannot be found in the world, and thank God the world cannot take
it from the believing heart! Sin is the cause of all this unrest. It
brought toil and labor and misery into the world.
Now for something positive. I would go successfully to someone who has
heard the sweet voice of Jesus, and has laid his burden down at the
cross. There is rest, sweet rest. Thousands could certify to this
blessed fact. They could say, and truthfully:
I heard the voice of Jesus say,
"Come unto me and rest.
Lay down, thou weary one, lay down,
Thy head upon my breast."
I came to Jesus as I was,
Weary and worn and sad.
I found in Him a resting-place,
And He hath made me glad.
Among all his writings St. Augustine has nothing sweeter than this:
"Thou hast made us for Thyself, O God, and our heart is restless till
it rests in Thee."
Do you know that for four thousand years no prophet or priest or
patriarch ever stood up and uttered a text like this? It would be
blasphemy for Moses to have uttered a text like it. Do you think he
had rest when he was teasing the Lord to let him go into the Promised
Land? Do you think Elijah could have uttered such a text as this,
when, under the juniper-tree, he prayed that he might die? And this is
one of the strongest proofs that Jesus Christ was not only man, but
God. He was God-Man, and this is Heaven's proclamation, "Come unto Me,
and I will give you rest". He brought it down from heaven with Him.
Now, if this text was not true, don't you think it would have been
found out by this time? I believe it as much as I believe in my
existence. Why? Because I not only find it in the Book, but in my own
experience. The "I wills" of Christ have never been broken, and never
can be.
I thank God for the word "give" in that passage. He doesn't sell it.
Some of us are so poor that we could not buy it if it was for sale.
Thank God, we can get it for nothing.
I like to have a text like this, because it takes us all in. "Come
unto me all ye that labor." That doesn't mean a select few--refined
ladies and cultured men. It doesn't mean good people only. It applies
to saint and sinner. Hospitals are for the sick, not for healthy
people. Do you think that Christ would shut the door in anyone's face,
and say, "I did not mean _all_; I only meant certain ones"? If you
cannot come as a saint, come as a sinner. Only come!
A lady told me once that she was so hard-hearted she couldn't come.
"Well," I said, "my good woman, it doesn't say all ye soft-hearted
people come. Black hearts, vile hearts, hard hearts, soft hearts, all
hearts come. Who can soften your hard heart but Himself?"
The harder the heart, the more need you have to come. If my watch
stops I don't take it to a drug store or to a blacksmith's shop, but
to the watchmaker's, to have it repaired. So if the heart gets out of
order take it to its keeper, Christ, to have it set right. If you can
prove that you are a sinner, you are entitled to the promise. Get all
the benefit you can out of it.
Now, there are a good many believers who think this text applies only
to sinners; It is just the thing for them too. What do we see to-day?
The Church, Christian people, all loaded down with cares and troubles.
"Come unto me all ye that labor." All! I believe that includes the
Christian whose heart is burdened with some great sorrow. The Lord
wants you to come.
Christ the Burden-Bearer.
It says in another place, "Casting all your care upon Him, for He
careth for you." We would have a victorious Church if we could get
Christian people to realize that. But they have never made the
discovery. They agree that Christ is the sin-bearer, but they do not
realize that He is also the burden-bearer. "Surely He hath borne our
griefs and carried our sorrows." It is the privilege of every child of
God to walk in unclouded sunlight.
Some people go back into the past and rake up all the troubles they
ever had, and then they look into the future and anticipate that they
will have still more trouble, and they go reeling and staggering all
through life. They give you the cold chills every time they meet you.
They put on a whining voice, and tell you what "a hard time they have
had." I believe they embalm them, and bring out the mummy on every
opportunity. The Lord says, "Cast all your care on Me. I want to carry
your burdens and your troubles." What we want is a joyful Church, and
we are not going to convert the world until we have it. We want to get
this long-faced Christianity off the face of the earth.
Take these people that have some great burden, and let them come into
a meeting. If you can get their attention upon the singing or
preaching, they will say, "Oh, wasn't it grand! I forgot all my
cares." And they just drop their bundle at the end of the pew. But the
moment the benediction is pronounced they grab the bundle again. You
laugh, but you do it yourself. Cast your care on Him.
Sometimes they go into their closet and close their door, and they get
so carried away and lifted up that they forget their trouble; but they
just take it up again the moment they get off their knees. Leave your
sorrow now; cast all your care upon Him. If you cannot come to Christ
as a saint, come as a sinner. But if you are a saint with some trouble
or care, bring it to Him. Saint and sinner, come! He wants you all.
Don't let Satan deceive you into believing that you cannot come if you
will. Christ says, "Ye will not come unto Me." With the command comes
the power.
A man in one of our meetings in Europe said he would like to come, but
he was chained, and couldn't come.
A Scotchman said to him, "Ay, man, why don't you come chain and all?"
He said, "I never thought of that."
Are you cross and peevish, and do you make things unpleasant at home?
My friend, come to Christ and ask Him to help you. Whatever the sin
is, bring it to Him.
What Does it Mean to Come?
Perhaps you say, "Mr. Moody, I wish you would tell us what it is to
come." I have given up trying to explain it. I always feel like the
colored minister who said he was going to _confound_, instead of
_expound_, the chapter.
The best definition is just--come. The more you try to explain it, the
more you are mystified. About the first thing a mother teaches her
child is to look. She takes the baby to the window, and says, "Look,
baby, papa is coming!" Then she teaches the child to come. She props
it up against a chair, and says, "Come!" and by and by the little
thing pushes the chair along towards mamma. That's coming. You don't
need to go to college to learn how. You don't need any minister to
tell you what it is. Now will you come to Christ? He said, "Him that
cometh unto Me, I will in no wise cast out."
When we have such a promise as this, let us cling to it, and never
give it up. Christ is not mocking us. He wants us to come with all our
sins and backslidings, and throw ourselves upon His bosom. It is our
sins God wants, not our tears only. They alone do no good. And we
cannot come through resolutions. Action is necessary. How many times
at church have we said, "I will turn over a new leaf," but the Monday
leaf is worse than the Saturday leaf.
The way to heaven is straight as a rule, but it is the way of the
cross. Don't try to get around it. Shall I tell you what the "yoke"
referred to in the text is? It is the cross which Christians must
bear. The only way by which you can find rest in this dark world is by
taking up the yoke of Christ. I do not know what it may include in
your case, beyond taking up your Christian duties, acknowledging
Christ and acting as becomes one of His disciples. Perhaps it may be
to erect a gamily altar; or to tell a godless husband that you have
made up your mind to serve God; or to tell your parents that you want
to be a Christian. Follow the will of God, and happiness and peace and
rest will come. The way of obedience is always the way of blessing.
I was preaching in Chicago to a hall full of women one Sunday
afternoon, and after the meeting was over a lady came to me and said
she wanted to talk to me. She said she would accept Christ, and after
some conversation she went home. I looked for her for a whole week,
but didn't see her until the following Sunday afternoon. She came and
sat down right in front of me, and her face had such a sad expression.
She seemed to have entered into the misery, instead of the joy, of the
Lord.
After the meeting was over I went to her and asked her what the
trouble was.
She said: "Oh, Mr. Moody, this has been the most miserable week of my
life."
I asked her if there was anyone with whom she had had trouble and whom
she could not forgive.
She said: "No, not that I know of."
"Well, did you tell your friends about having found the Savior?"
"Indeed I didn't, I have been all the week trying to keep it from
them."
"Well," I said, "that is the reason why you have no peace."
She wanted to take the crown, but did not want the cross. My friends,
you must go by the way of Calvary. If you ever get rest, you must get
it at the foot of the cross.
"Why," she said, "if I should go home and tell my infidel husband that
I had found Christ I don't know what he would do. I think he would
turn me out."
"Well," I said, "go out."
She went away, promising that she would tell him, timid and pale, but
she did not want another wretched week. She was bound to have peace.
The next night I gave a lecture to men only, and in the hall there
were eight thousand men and one solitary woman. When I got through and
went into the inquiry meeting, I found this lady with her husband. She
introduced him to me (he was a doctor, and a very influential man) and
said:
"He wants to become a Christian."
I took my Bible and told him all about Christ, and he accepted Him. I
said to her after it was all over:
"It turned out quite differently from what you expected, didn't it?"
"Yes," she replied, "I was never so scared in my life. I expected he
would do something dreadful, but it has turned out so well."
She took God's way, and got rest.
I want to say to young ladies, perhaps you have a godless father or
mother, a sceptical brother, who is going down through drink, and
perhaps there is no one who can reach them but you. How many times a
godly, pure young lady has taken the light into some darkened home!
Many a home might be lit up with the Gospel if the mothers and
daughters would only speak the word.
The last time Mr. Sankey and myself were in Edinburgh, there were a
father, two sisters and a brother, who used every morning to take the
morning paper and pick my sermon to pieces. They were indignant to
think that the Edinburgh people should be carried away with such
preaching. One day one of the sisters was going by the hall, and she
thought she would drop in and see what class of people went there. She
happened to take a seat by a godly lady, who said to her:
"I hope you are interested in this work."
She tossed her head and said: "Indeed I am not. I am disgusted with
everything I have seen and heard."
"Well," said the lady, "perhaps you came prejudiced."
"Yes, and the meeting has not removed any of it, but has rather
increased it."
"I have received a great deal of good from them."
"There is nothing here for me. I don't see how an intellectual person
can be interested."
To make a long story short, she got the lady to promise to come back.
When the meeting broke up, just a little of the prejudice had worn
away. She promised to come back again the next day, and then she
attended three or four more meetings, and became quite interested. She
said nothing to her family, until finally the burden became too heavy,
and she told them. They laughed at her, and made her the butt of their
ridicule.
One day the two sisters were together, and the other said: "Now what
have you got at those meetings that you didn't have in the first
place?"
"I have a peace that I never knew of before. I am at peace with God,
myself and all the world." Did you ever have a little war of your own
with your neighbors, in your own family? And she said: "I have
self-control. You know, sister, if you had said half the mean things
before I was converted that you have said since, I would have been
angry and answered back, but if you remember correctly, I haven't
answered once since I have been converted."
The sister said: "You certainly have something that I have not." The
other told her it was for her too, and she brought the sister to the
meetings, where she found peace.
Like Martha and Mary, they had a brother, but he was a member of the
University of Edinburgh. He be converted? He go to these meetings? It
might do for women, but not for him. One night they came home and told
him that a chum of his own, a member of the University, had stood up
and confessed Christ, and when he sat down his brother got up and
confessed; and so with the third one.
When the young man heard it, he said: "Do you mean to tell me that he
has been converted?"
"Yes."
"Well," he said, "there must be something in it."
He put on his hat, and coat, and went to see his friend Black. Black
got him down to the meetings, and he was converted.
We went through to Glasgow, and had not been there six weeks when news
came that that young man had been stricken down and died. When he was
dying he called his father to his bedside and said:
"Wasn't it a good thing that my sisters went to those meetings? Won't
you meet me in heaven, father?"
"Yes, my son, I am so glad you are a Christian; that is the only
comfort that I have in losing you. I will become a Christian, and will
meet you again."
I tell this to encourage some sister to go home and carry the message
of salvation. It may be that your brother may be taken away in a few
months. My dear friends, are we not living in solemn days? Isn't it
time for us to get our friends into the Kingdom of God? Come, wife,
won't you tell your husband? Come, sister, won't you tell your
brother? Won't you take up your cross now? The blessing of God will
rest on your soul if you will.
I was in Wales once, and a lady told me this little story: An English
friend of hers, a mother, had a child that was sick. At first they
considered there was no danger, until one day the doctor came in and
said that the symptoms were very unfavorable. He took the mother out
of the room, and told her that the child could not live. It came like
a thunderbolt. After the doctor had gone the mother went into the room
where the child lay and began to talk to the child and tried to divert
its mind.
"Darling, do you know you will soon hear the music of heaven? You will
hear a sweeter song than you have ever heard on earth. You will hear
them sing the song of Moses and the Lamb. You are very fond of music.
Won't it be sweet, darling?"
And the little tired, sick child turned its head away, and said, "Oh
mamma, I am so tired and so sick that I think it would make me worse
to hear all that music."
"Well," the mother said, "you will soon see Jesus, You will see the
seraphim and cherubim and the streets all paved with gold"; and she
went on picturing heaven as it is described in Revelation.
The little tired child again turned its head away, and said, "Oh
mamma, I am so tired that I think it would make me worse to see all
those beautiful things!"
At last the mother took the child up in her arms, and pressed her to
her loving heart. And the little sick one whispered:
"Oh mamma, that is what I want. If Jesus will only take me in His arms
and let me rest!"
Dear friend, are you not tired and weary of sin? Are you not weary of
the turmoil of life? You can end rest on the bosom of the Son of God.
SEVEN "I WILLS" OF CHRIST.
A man when he says "I will," may not mean much. We very often say "I
will," when we don't mean to fulfil what we say; but when we come to
the "I will" of Christ, He means to fulfil it. Everything He has
promised to do, He is able and willing to accomplish; and He is going
to do it. I cannot find any passage in Scripture in which He says "I
will" do this, or "I will" do that, but it will be done.
1. The "I Will" of Salvation.
The first "I will" to which I want to direct your attention, is to be
found in John's gospel, sixth chapter and thirty-seventh verse: "_Him
that cometh unto Me I will in no wise cast out._"
I imagine someone will say, "Well, if I was what I ought to be, I
would come; but when my mind goes over the past record of my life, it
is too dark. I am not fit to come."
You must bear in mind that Jesus Christ came to save not good people,
not the upright and just, but sinners like you and me, who have gone
astray, and sinned and come short of the glory of God. Listen to this
"I will"--it goes right into the heart--"Him that cometh unto Me, I
will in no wise cast out." Surely that is broad enough--is it not? I
don't care who the man or woman is; I don't care what their trials,
what their troubles, what their sorrows, or what their sins are, if
they will only come straight to the Master, He will not cast them out.
Come then, poor sinner; come just as you are, and take Him at His
word.
He is so anxious to save sinners, He will take everyone who comes. He
will take those who are so full of sin that they are despised by all
who know them, who have been rejected by their fathers and mothers,
who have been cast off by the wives of their bosoms. He will take
those who have sunk so low that upon them no eye of pity is cast. His
occupation is to hear and save. That is what He left heaven and came
into the world for; that is what He left the throne of God for--to
save sinners. "The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which
was lost." He did not come to condemn the world but that the world
through Him might be saved.
A wild and prodigal young man, who was running a headlong career to
ruin came into one of our meetings in Chicago. The Spirit of God got
hold of him. Whilst I was conversing with him, and endeavoring to
bring him to Christ, I quoted this verse to him.
I asked him: "Do you believe Christ said that?"
"I suppose He did."
"Suppose He did! do you believe it?"
"I hope so."
"Hope so! do you believe it? You do your work, and the Lord will do
His. Just come as you are, and throw yourself upon His bosom, and He
will not cast you out."
This man thought it was too simple and easy.
At last light seemed to break in upon him, and he seemed to find
comfort from it. It was past midnight before he got down on his knees,
but down he went, and was converted. I said:
"Now, don't think you are going to get out of the devil's territory
without trouble. The devil will come to you to-morrow morning, and say
it was all feeling; that you only imagined you were accepted by God.
When he does, don't fight him with your own opinions, but fight him
with John 6:37: 'Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out.'
Let that be the 'sword of the Spirit.'"
I don't believe that any man ever starts to go to Christ, but the
devil strives somehow or other to meet him and trip him up. And even
after he has come to Christ, the devil tries to assail him with
doubts, and make him believe there is something wrong in it.
The struggle came sooner than I thought in this man's case. When he
was on his way home the devil assailed him. He used this text, but the
devil put this thought into his mind: "How do you know Christ ever
said that after all? Perhaps the translators made a mistake."
Into darkness he went again. He was in trouble till about two in the
morning. At last he came to this conclusion. Said he:
"I will believe it anyway; and when I get to heaven, if it isn't true,
I will just tell the Lord _I_ didn't make the mistake--the translators
made it."
The kings and princes of this world, when they issue invitations, call
round them the rich, the mighty and powerful, the honorable and the
wise; but the Lord, when He was on earth; called round Him the vilest
of the vile. That was the principal fault the people found with Him.
Those self-righteous Pharisees were not going to associate with
harlots and publicans. The principal charge against Him was: "This man
receiveth sinners and eateth with them." Who would have such a man
around him as John Bunyan in his time? He, a Bedford tinker, couldn't
get inside one of the princely castles. I was very much amused when I
was over on the other side. They had erected a monument to John
Bunyan, and it was unveiled by lords and dukes and great men. While he
was on earth, they would not have allowed him inside the walls of
their castles. Yet he was made one of the mightiest instruments in the
spread of the Gospel. No book that has ever been written comes so near
the Bible as John Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress." And he was a poor
Bedford tinker. So it is with God. He picks up some poor, lost tramp,
and makes him an instrument to turn hundreds and thousands to Christ.
George Whitefield, standing in his tabernacle in London, and with a
multitude gathered about him, cried out: "The Lord Jesus will save the
devil's castaways!"
Two poor abandoned wretches standing outside in the street, heard him,
as his silvery voice rang out on the air. Looking into each other's
faces, they said: "That must mean you and me." They wept and rejoiced.
They drew near and looked in at the door, at the face of the earnest
messenger, the tears streaming from his eyes as he plead with the
people to give their hearts to God. One of them wrote him a little
note and sent it to him.
Later that day, as he sat at the table of Lady Huntington, who was his
special friend, someone present said:
"Mr. Whitefield, did you not go a little too far to-day when you said
that the Lord would save the devil's castaways?"
Taking the note from his pocket he gave it to the lady, and said:
"Will you read that note aloud?"
She read: "Mr. Whitefield: Two poor lost women stood outside your
tabernacle to-day, and heard you say that the Lord would save the
devil's castaways. We seized upon that as our last hope, and we write
you this to tell you that we rejoice now in believing in Him, and from
this good hour we shall endeavor to serve Him, who has done so much
for us."
2. The "I Will" of Cleansing.
The next "I will" is found in Luke, fifth chapter. We read of a leper
who came to Christ, and said: "Lord, if Thou wilt, Thou canst make me
clean." The Lord touched him, saying, "_I will: be thou clean_"; and
immediately the leprosy left him.
Now if any man or woman full of the leprosy of sin read this, if you
will but go to the Master and tell all your case to Him, He will speak
to you as He did to that poor leper and say. "I will: be thou clean,"
and the leprosy of your sins will flee away from you. It is the Lord,
and the Lord alone, who can forgive sins. If you say to Him, "Lord, I
am full of sin; Thou canst make me clean"; "Lord, I have a terrible
temper; Thou canst make me clean"; "Lord, I have a deceitful heart.
Cleanse me, O Lord; give me a new heart. O Lord, give me the power to
overcome the flesh, and the snares of the devil!"; "Lord, I am full of
unclean habits"; if you come to Him with a sincere spirit, you will
hear the voice, "I will; be thou clean." It will be done. Do you think
that the God who created the world out of nothing, who by a breath put
life into the world--do you think that if He says, "Thou shalt be
clean," you will not?
Now, you can make a wonderful exchange to-day. You can have health in
the place of sickness; you can get rid of everything that is vile and
hateful in the sight of God. The Son of God comes down, and says, "I
will take away your leprosy, and give you health in its stead. I will
take away that terrible disease that is ruining your body and soul,
and give you my righteousness in its stead. I will clothe you with the
garments of salvation."
Is it not wonderful? That's what He means when He says--_I will_. Oh,
lay hold of this "I will!"
3. The "I Will" of Confession.
Now turn to Matthew, tenth chapter, thirty-second verse: "_Whosoever
therefore shall confess Me before men, him will I confess also before
my Father which is in heaven_." There's the "I will" of confession.
Now, that's the next thing that takes place after a man is saved. When
we have been washed in the blood of the Lamb, the next thing is to get
our mouths opened. We have to confess Christ here in this dark world,
and tell His love to others. We are not to be ashamed of the Son of
God.
A man thinks it a great honor when he has achieved a victory that
causes his name to be mentioned in the English Parliament, or in the
presence of the Queen and her court. How excited we used to be during
the war, when some general did something extraordinary, and someone
got up in Congress to confess his exploits; how the papers used to
talk about it! In China, we read, the highest ambition of the
successful soldier is to have his name written in the palace or temple
of Confucius. But just think of having your name mentioned in the
kingdom of heaven by the Prince of Glory, by the Son of God, because
you confess Him here on earth! You confess Him here; He will confess
you yonder.
If you wish to be brought into the clear light of liberty, you must
take your stand on Christ's side. I have known many Christians go
groping about in darkness, and never get into the clear light of the
kingdom, because they were ashamed to confess the Son of God. We are
living in a day when men want a religion without the cross. They want
the crown, but not the cross. But if we are to be disciples of Jesus
Christ, we have to take up our crosses _daily_--not once a year, or on
the Sabbath, but daily. And if we take up our crosses and follow Him,
we shall be blessed in the very act.
I remember a man in New York who used to come and pray with me. He had
his cross. He was afraid to confess Christ. It seemed that down at the
bottom of his trunk he had a Bible. He wanted to get it out and read
it to the companion with whom he lived, but he was ashamed to do it.
For a whole week that was his cross; and after he had carried the
burden that long, and after a terrible struggle, he made up his mind.
He said, "I will take my Bible out tonight and read it." He took it
out, and soon he heard the footsteps of his mate coming upstairs.
His first impulse was to put it away again, but then he thought he
would not--he would face his companion with it. His mate came in, and
seeing him at his Bible, said,
"John, are you interested in these things?" "Yes," he replied.
"How long has this been, then?" asked his companion.
"Exactly a week," he answered; "for a whole week I have tried to get
out my Bible to read to you, but I have never done so till now."
"Well," said his friend, "it is a strange thing. _I was converted on
the some night_, and I too was ashamed to take my Bible out."
You are ashamed to take your Bible out and say, "I have lived a
godless life for all these years, but I will commence now to live a
life of righteousness." You are ashamed to open your Bible and read
that blessed Psalm, "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want." You
are ashamed to be seen on your knees. No man can be a disciple of
Jesus Christ without bearing His cross. A great many people want to
know how it is Jesus Christ has so few disciples, whilst Mahomet has
so many. The reason is that Mahomet gives no cross to bear. There are
so few men who will come out to take their stand.
I was struck during the American war with the fact that there were so
many men who could go to the cannon's mouth without trembling, but who
had not courage to take up their Bibles to read them at night. They
were ashamed of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, which is the power of God
unto salvation. "Whosoever therefore shall confess me before men, him
will I confess also before My Father which is in heaven. But whosoever
shall deny Me before men, him will I also deny before My Father which
is in heaven."
4. The "I Will" of Service.
The next _I will_ is the "I will" of service.
There are a good many Christians who have been quickened and aroused
to say, "I want to do some service for Christ."
Well, Christ says, "_Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men_."
There is no Christian who cannot help to bring someone to the Savior.
Christ says, "And I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto Me";
and our business is just to lift up Christ.
Our Lord said, "Follow Me, Peter, and I will make you a fisher of
men"; and Peter simply obeyed Him, and there, on that day of
Pentecost, we see the result. Peter had a good haul on the day of
Pentecost. I doubt if he ever caught so many fish in one day as he did
men on that day. It would have broken every net they had on board, if
they had had to drag up three thousand fishes.
I read some time ago of a man who took passage in a stage coach. There
were first, second and third-class passengers. But when he looked into
the coach, he saw all the passengers sitting together without
distinction. He could not understand it till by-and-by they came to a
hill, and the coach stopped, and the driver called out, "First-class
passengers keep their seats, second-class passengers get out and walk,
third class passengers get behind and push." Now in the Church we have
no room for first-class passengers--people who think that salvation
means an easy ride all the way to heaven. We have no room for second
class passengers--people who are carried most of the time, and who,
when they must work out their own salvation, go trudging on giving
never a thought to helping their fellows along. All church members
ought to be third class passengers--ready to dismount and push all
together, and push with a will. That was John Wesley's definition of a
church--"All at it, and always at it." Every Christian ought to be a
worker. He need not be a preacher, he need not be an evangelist, to be
useful. He may be useful in business. See what power an employer has,
if he likes! How he could labor with his employees, and in his
business relations! Often a man can be far more useful in a business
sphere than he could in another.
There is one reason, and a great reason, why so many do not succeed. I
have been asked by a great many good men, "Why is it we don't have any
results? We work hard, pray hard, and preach hard, and yet the success
does not come." I will tell you. It is because they spend all their
time mending their nets. No wonder they never catch anything.
The great matter is to hold inquiry meetings, and thus pull the net
in, and see if you have caught anything. If you are always mending and
setting the net, you won't catch many fish. Whoever heard of a man
going out to fish, and setting his net, and then letting it stop
there, and never pulling it in? Everybody would laugh at the man's
folly.
A minister in England came to me one day, and said, "I wish you would
tell me why we ministers don't succeed better than we do."
I brought before him this idea of pulling in the net, and I said, "You
ought to pull in your nets. There are many ministers in Manchester who
can preach much better than I can, but I pull in the net."
Many people have objections to inquiry meetings, but I urged upon him
the importance of them, and the minister said,
"I never did pull in my net, but I will try next Sunday."
He did so, and eight persons, anxious inquirers, went into his study.
The next Sunday he came down to see me, and said he had never had such
a Sunday in his life. He had met with marvelous blessing. The next
time he drew the net there were forty, and when he came to see me
later, he said to me joyfully,
"Moody, I have had eight hundred conversions this last year! It is a
great mistake I did not begin earlier to pull in the net."
So, my friends, if you want to catch men, just pull in the net. If you
only catch one, it will be something. It may be a little child, but I
have known a little child to convert a whole family. You don't know
what is in that little dull-headed boy in the inquiry-room; he may
become a Martin Luther, a reformer that shall make the world
tremble--you cannot tell. God uses the weak things of this world to
confound the mighty. God's promise is as good as a bank note--"I
promise to pay So-and-So," and here is one of Christ's promissory
notes--"If you follow Me, I will make you fishers of men." Will you
not lay hold of the promise, and trust it, and follow Him now?
If a man preaches the Gospel, and preaches it faithfully, he ought to
expect results then and there. I believe it is the privilege of God's
children to reap the fruit of their labor three hundred and sixty five
days in the year.
"Well, but," say some, "is there not a sowing time as well as
harvest?"
Yes, it is true, there is; but then, you can sow with one hand, and
reap with the other. What would you think of a farmer who went on
sowing all the year round, and never thought of reaping? I repeat it,
we want to sow with one hand, and reap with the other; and if we look
for the fruit of our labors, we shall see it. "I, if I be lifted up,
will draw all men unto Me." We must lift Christ up, and then seek men
out, and bring them to Him.
You must use the right kind of bait. A good many don't do this, and
then they wonder they are not successful. You see them getting up all
kinds of entertainments with which to try and catch men. They go the
wrong way to work. This perishing world wants Christ, and Him
crucified. There's a void in every man's bosom that wants filling up,
and if we only approach him with the right kind of bait, we shall
catch him. This poor world needs a Savior; and if we are going to be
successful in catching men, we must preach Christ crucified--not His
life only but His death. And if we are only faithful in doing this, we
shall succeed. And why? Because there is His promise: "If you follow
Me, I will make you fishers of men." That promise holds just as good
to you and me as it did to His disciples, and is as true now as it was
in their time.
Think of Paul up yonder. People are going up every day and every hour,
men and women who have been brought to Christ through his writings. He
set streams in motion that have flowed on for more than a thousand
years. I can imagine men going up there, and saying, "Paul, I thank
you for writing that letter to the Ephesians; I found Christ in that."
"Paul, I thank you for writing that epistle to the Corinthians."
"Paul, I found Christ in that epistle to the Philippians." "I thank
you, Paul, for that epistle to the Galatians; I found Christ in that."
And so, I suppose, they are going up still, thanking Paul all the
while for what he had done. Ah, when Paul was put in prison he did not
fold his hands and sit down in idleness! No, he began to write; and
his epistles have come down through the long ages of time, and brought
thousands on thousands to a knowledge of Christ crucified. Yes, Christ
said to Paul, "I will make you a fisher of men if you will follow Me,"
and he has been fishing for souls ever since. The devil thought he had
done a very wise thing when he got Paul into prison, but he was very
much mistaken; he overdid it for once. I have no doubt Paul has
thanked God ever since for that Philippian gaol, and his stripes and
imprisonment there. I am sure the world has made more by it than we
shall ever know till we get to heaven.
5. The "I Will" of Comfort.
The next "I will" is in John, fourteenth chapter, verse eighteen: "_I
will not leave you comfortless_."
To me it is a sweet thought that Christ has not left us alone in this
dark wilderness here below. Although He has gone up on high, and taken
His seat by the Father's throne, He has not left us comfortless. The
better translation is, "I will not leave you _orphans_." He did not
leave Joseph when they cast him into prison. "God was with him." When
Daniel was cast into the den of lions, they had to put the Almighty in
with him. They were so bound together that they could not be
separated, and so God went down into the den of lions with Daniel.
If we have got Christ with us, we can do all things. Do not let us be
thinking how weak we are. Let us lift up our eyes to Him, and think of
Him as our Elder Brother, who has all power given to Him in heaven and
on earth. He says: "Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the
world." Some of our children and friends leave us, and it is a very
sad hour. But, thank God, the believer and Christ shall never be
separated! He is with us here, and we shall be with Him in person by
and by, and shall see Him in His beauty. But not only is He with us,
but He has sent us the Holy Ghost. Let us honor the Holy Ghost by
acknowledging that He is here in our midst. He has power to give sight
to the blind, liberty to the captive, and to open the ears of the deaf
that they may hear the glorious words of the Gospel.
6. The "I Will" of Resurrection.
Then there is another _I will_ in John, sixth chapter, verse forty; it
occurs four times in the chapter: "_I will raise him up at the last
day_."
I rejoice to think that I have a Savior who has power over death. My
blessed Master holds the keys him, and I got more comfort out of that
promise "I will raise him up at the last day," than anything else in
the Bible. How it cheered me! How it lighted up my path! And as I went
into the room and looked upon the lovely face of that brother, how
that passage ran through my soul: "Thy brother shall rise again." I
said, "Thank God for that promise." It was worth more than the world
to me.
When we laid him in the grave, it seemed as if I could hear the voice
of Jesus Christ saying, "Thy brother shall rise again." Blessed
promise of the resurrection! Blessed "I will!" "I will raise him up at
the last day."
7. The "I Will" of Glory.
Now the next _I will_ is in John, seventeenth chapter, twenty-fourth
verse: "_Father, I will that they also, whom Thou hast given Me, be
with Me where I am_."
This was in His last prayer in the guest-chamber, on the last night
before He was crucified and died that terrible death on Calvary. Many
a believer's countenance begins to light up at the thought that he
shall see the King in His beauty by and by. Yes; there is a glorious
day before us in the future. Some think that on the first day we are
converted we have got everything. To be sure, we get salvation for the
past and peace for the present; but then there is the glory for the
future in store. That's what kept Paul rejoicing. He said, "These
light afflictions, these few stripes, these few brickbats and stones
that they throw at me--why, the glory that is beyond excels them so
much that I count them as nothing, nothing at all, so that I may win
Christ." And so, when things go against us, let us cheer up; let us
remember that the night will soon pass away, and the morning dawn upon
us. Death never comes there. It is banished from that heavenly land.
Sickness, and pain, and sorrow, come not there to mar that grand and
glorious home where we shall be by and by with the Master. God's
family will be all together there. Glorious future, my friends! Yes,
glorious day! and it may be a great deal nearer than many of us think.
During these few days we are here let us stand steadfast and firm, and
by and by we shall be in the unbroken circle in yon world of light,
and have the King in our midst.
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