03.12. THE SAVIOR'S INVITATION contd

The felicity of the redeemed will be eternal. In those brighter skies the Sun of Righteousness will never set: there He shall always shine in meridian splendor; and from His gladdening and life-giving beams all mourning shall forever flee away. There, God will be our God forever and ever. Blessed thought! Eternity is the crowning glory of the felicity of the redeemed. ’But Israel shall be saved in the Lord with an everlasting salvation: you shall not be ashamed nor confounded world without end.’ ’And they shall reign forever and ever.’ The crown which they wear is an incorruptible one- a crown of glory, that fades not away. The kingdom which they inherit is an everlasting one. The house which is prepared for them by an ascended Savior, is ’eternal in the heavens,’ and from it they ’shall go no more out.’

How delightful, in a world like this, where the dearest ties are so quickly broken, where the cup of joy is so soon emptied, to think of that unchanging day beyond the grave- of those blessed scenes of permanent delight- of joys the most rapturous- of a fellowship the most sweet, intimate, and enduring- of a whole eternity of love! What consolation is there in the thought of the endlessness of heaven’s joys! How it expands the affections of the soul, and raises them above this passing world! How it bears us above the cares, the trials, and afflictions of our pilgrimage, and causes these very tribulations to redound to our future, everlasting welfare!

Now, who is not ready to come to the Savior for those heavenly felicities? He has prepared them for believers: and it is His royal prerogative to bestow them upon all who come to Him. His own language is; ’I give unto them eternal life.’ This includes all the blessings of glory. How clear and emphatic the language! Yes, Jesus will bring His redeemed ones to the City of light, the heavenly Jerusalem, dwell with them, put new songs of praise in their mouths, remove from them all sorrow and pain, give them fullness of joy, invest them with white robes, and crown them with immortality.
And now, shall we remain away from the Savior, since the fountain of eternal life- of supreme bliss- is with Him? and since He so freely dispenses His divine favors? Let us repair to Him for these felicities, and He will enrich us ever more. Let us come with faith in the blood of His cross; and when we pass from earth, we shall dwell in those mansions which have been prepared by His grace, and enjoy all those pleasures which flow in the presence of God.

COME TO THE SAVIOR NOW. ’Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.’ How solemn and important are these words; and how deeply do they concern us pilgrims of a day, pressing on to an eternal abode! Now is the time for us to come to the Savior: now is our day of salvation. Today, if you will hear His voice, harden not your hearts.’ The present moment only is ours; the very next may find our spirits before the bar of God. How invaluable then, to us, is this moment for securing a saving interest in the Savior, and the joys of heaven! The invitations of the gospel are given in the present tense, because of the shortness of time, the brevity and uncertainty of life, and the impossibility of obtaining redemption beyond the grave. Let us here reflect on these momentous topics.

How many souls have gone down to the pit of the lost, by refusing or neglecting to come to the Savior in this accepted time and day of salvation- now. Many still imagine they will have time enough to attend to the important concerns of salvation. Before them long years of earthly pleasure rise up in prospect; while, perhaps, tomorrow the current of life will suddenly stop in their veins, and the icy hand of death lay them low in the dust. ’Today man is, tomorrow he is not seen.’ In the Scriptures the brevity of our life is expressed under various similitudes, such as the flower of the field- the wind- a leaf driven to and fro- a shadow- a runner- the swift ships- an eagle hastening to the prey- an handbreadth- a span- a vanity- a dream- a tale that is told. ’My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and are spent without hope.’ ’Behold, You have made my days as an handbreadth; and my age is as nothing before You: verily, every man at his best state is altogether vanity.’ ’Our days on earth are as a shadow, and there is none abiding.’ ’For what is your life? It is like vapor, that appears for a little time, and then vanishes away.’ ’All flesh is grass, and all the goodness thereof is as the flower of the field: the grass withers, the flower fades.’ ’In the morning it flourishes, and grows up; in the evening it is cut down, and withers.’

’Like tender flowers, we open the bud,
And greet the morning ray;
But before it is noon we droop and fade,
The creatures of a day.
Yet on this little day of life
What mighty things depend
Eternal torments, or the joy
That knows no bound nor end.’

We should come to the Savior now because our time is short, and its continuance every moment uncertain to us. ’Remember how short my life is, how empty and futile this human existence!’ ’The time is short.’ Oh, the brevity of time! Oh, the rapidity of its flight! Look back on past years- how quickly have they gone! And how swiftly does the present moment fly, still bearing our life away! How few properly weigh the value of time! What multitudes spend its golden hours on empty joys, refusing to come to the Savior for the glories of immortality! And how many never stop to think of the endless joys or griefs which are suspended on time’s flying moments! Let us regard the voice which calls us to the Savior now- this precious instant, Now. This moment ’strive to enter in at the strait gate.’ ’Seek the Lord while He may be found, call upon Him while He is near.’ ’Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with your might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, where you go.’

Let us seriously reflect on the shortness of time, that we may be led to seek the Savior now, while the day of grace continues- while the golden scepter of forgiveness is extended to us. Today the portals of heaven are opened for us; tomorrow they may be closed upon us FOREVER. Then let us not say with Felix, ’Go your way for the time; when I have a convenient season, I will call for you.’ Let us instantly flee to the cross of Jesus. When we have such a brief space in which to attend to the interests of our souls, should we put off those momentous spiritual concerns until what we call a more convenient season, since ’death stands watching at our side, eager to stop the living tide?’ What folly, what infatuation for pilgrims, who tarry here but a night, to pursue a course of procrastination in matters of religion! If we refuse or neglect to come to the Savior now, we may never have another opportunity. Tomorrow’s sun may rise on our lifeless remains. The grave may be ready to receive us, and the green turf to cover us.
Such has been the case with thousands, who were dreaming of long years of earthly happiness, and neglecting the blessed Savior and His great salvation. While in health, death has come up into their windows; and they have suddenly passed away as a vision of the night. Some of them, doubtless, thought of coming to the Savior in future days, but alas, ’tomorrow’ never rose on them. They failed to improve the present hour; and now, all of life’s precious moments have fled- they have forever lost that ’inestimable treasure, time’- they have lost their souls- they have lost heaven- they have lost all that is good, and incurred all that is evil. ’How are they brought into desolation, as in a moment! they are utterly, consumed with terrors.’ ’One dies in his full strength, being wholly at ease and quiet.’ ’Moreover, no man knows when his hour will come. Like fish in a net or birds in a snare, people are often caught by sudden tragedy.’

How little do we think of the shortness of time and the nearness of eternity. And how seldom do we take into serious consideration the weighty concerns which are suspended on the present hour. If we had more just conceptions of the vanity and brevity of our life, we would be more diligent in attending to our spiritual concerns at the present time. Look again at the shortness and frailty of human life. Look at past generations. Where are they now? In the grave- the land of darkness and forgetfulness. How brief has been their existence! They have passed away like the morning cloud and early dew. Look at the present generation. How it vanishes! In a little while, every living thing that now moves on the face of the earth, will have forever disappeared from it. Look forward to future generations. The same great change will take place with regard to them. All, all are marching to the grave and their places on earth shall know them no more. Oh, that we might be induced by these reflections to come to the Savior NOW. Oh, that we might lay these things to heart. ’Oh, that they were wise, that they understood this, that they would consider their latter end.’ ’Your fathers, where are they? and the prophets, do they live forever.’ ’Where are the men,’ asked Chalmers, in one of his most thrilling and solemn discourses- ’Where are the men who a few years ago gave motion and activity to this busy theater? Where are those farmers who lived on the ground that you now occupy? Where are those laboring poor who dwelt in your houses and villages? Where are those ministers who preached the lessons of piety, and talked of the vanity of this world? Where are those people who, on the Sabbaths of other times, assembled at the sound of the church-bell, and filled the house in which you are now sitting? Their habitation is the cold grave, the land of forgetfulness . . . . . And we are the children of these fathers, and heirs to the same awful and stupendous destiny. Ours is one of the many generations who pass in rapid succession through this region of life and of sensibility. The time in which I live is but a small moment of this world’s history. When we rise in contemplation of ages that are past, the momentary being of an individual shrinks into nothing. It is the flight of a shadow; it is a dream of vanity; it is the rapid glance of a meteor; it is a flower which every breath of heaven can wither into decay; it is a tale which as a remembrance vanishes; it is a day which the silence of a long night will darken and overshadow. In a few years our heads will be laid in the cold grave, and the green turf will cover us. The children who come after us will tread upon our graves; they will weep for us a few days; they will talk of us a few months; they will remember us a few years; then our memory shall disappear from the face of the earth, and not a tongue shall be found to recall it. How perishable is human life, yet no man lays it to heart!’
How short is the space between us and the grave! What is our life? It is truly a vapor, that appears for a little time, and then vanishes away. What is time? It is a stream which is rapidly bearing us all to the boundless ocean of eternity. In a little while a mighty angel will stand with one foot upon the sea and one upon the earth, and with uplifted hands swear by Him that lives forever and ever, that time shall be no longer. Let us ask again, with all seriousness, WHAT IS TIME?

I asked an aged man, a man of cares,
Wrinkled, and curved, and white with hoary hairs;
"Time is the warp of life," he said, "Oh tell,
The young, the fair, the gay, to weave it well!"
I asked the ancient, venerable dead,
Sages who wrote, and warriors who bled;
From the cold grave a hollow murmur flowed,
"Time sowed the seed we reap in this abode!"
I asked a dying sinner, before the tide
Of life had left his veins- "Time!" he replied;
"I’ve lost it! ah, the treasure!" and he died.
I asked the golden sun and silver spheres,
Those bright chronometers of days and years;
They answered, "Time is but a meteor glare,"
And bade us for Eternity prepare.
I asked the Seasons, in their annual round,
Which beautify or desolate the ground;
And they replied (no oracle more wise),
"Tis folly’s blank, and wisdom’s highest prize!"
I asked a lost spirit, but oh, the shriek
That pierced my soul! I shudder while I speak!
It cried, "a particle! a speck! a mite
Of endless years, duration infinite!"
Of inanimate things my dial I
Consulted, and it made me this reply-
"Time is the season fair of living well,
The path of glory, or the path of Hell!"
I asked my Bible and it said,
"Time is the present hour, the past is fled;
Live! live today! tomorrow never yet
On any living being rose or set!"
I asked Old Father Time himself at last;
But in a moment he flew swiftly past-
His chariot was a cloud, the viewless wind
His noiseless steeds; which left no trace behind.
I asked a mighty angel, who shall stand
One foot on sea, and one on solid land;
"By Heaven," he cried, "I swear the mystery’s o’er;
"Time was," he cried, "but Time shall be no more!"

We should come to the Savior now, because is at the door. And what is eternity- vast, boundless ETERNITY? Who can properly speak of it? Who can unfold the mighty import of this single word, ETERNITY? No one. And let us remember that we are candidates for eternity- heirs of everlasting bliss or woe! Oh, then, let us endeavor to feel that we are walking on the very borders of the eternal world; and prepare, by coming the Savior now, for that land of solemn, unchanging realities- for an eternity of glory in heaven.

Let us come to the Savior now, because the salvation of our souls is precious, and their loss unspeakably great. The present time is called the day of salvation; and the passing hours are given to us, that we may attend to the all-important concerns of our undying souls. And how solemn the thought that ’every moment that God gives to man, shall return at the appointed day, and make its report of every deed, and whisper, and thought before the judgment throne!’ The soul is of divine origin, and it shall live through all eternity in supreme bliss; or inconceivable misery. How important then is the salvation of an immortal spirit! Who can properly estimate the value of a single soul ? It is worth infinitely more than the whole world. ’For what shall it profit a man,’ asks the Savior Himself; ’if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?’ How dreadful, beyond conception or description, for an immortal spirit to be hastening to the pit of the lost, despising the merciful, invitations of the blessed Redeemer! Who can describe the miseries of a lost soul, when the door of the bottomless pit has closed upon it forever? In the thrilling language of Robert Hall, ’But what, my brethren, if it be lawful to indulge such a thought, what would be the funeral obsequies of a lost soul? Where shall we find the tears fit to be wept at such a spectacle? Or could we realize the calamity in all its extent, what tokens of commiseration and concern would be deemed equal to the occasion? Would it suffice for the sun to veil his light, and the moon her brightness; to cover the ocean with mourning, and the heavens with sackcloth; or, were the whole fabric of nature to become animated and vocal, would it be possible for her to utter a groan too deep, or a cry too piercing, to express the magnitude and extent of such a catastrophe? ’

To prevent so great a loss as that of the soul, let us come to the Savior now, cast ourselves at His footstool, and implore His rich mercy. Let us now listen to His entreating voice, and behold Him knocking at the door of our hearts. Let us now open the door, and He will come in, and sup with us. ’Behold, I stand at the door, and knock; If any man hears my voice, and opens the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and be with me.’ Then all things will be ours- all the blessings of the everlasting covenant- all the glories of heaven. Then, when we are about to finish our earthly course- when we stand on the banks of Jordan, and see the crown of glory shining for us in the promised land beyond the shores of time, we may sweetly and joyfully sing-

’My race is over, the prize is won,
My everlasting bliss begun,
And every evil gone.
See, see, the trooping angels come,
Upon their wings to bear me home,
Sent from my Father’s throne.
I see the palm that I shall bear,
And crown of glory my head shall wear,
Bought with my Savior’s blood;
Warm on my heart I feel the joy,
Which ever shall my harp employ;
I live on angels’ food.
My breast in fire seraphic glows,
I drink the stream of life that flows
Pure from the throne divine.
My Savior’s face I now shall see,
Who died and rose again for me,
And in His presence shine.
Now, now I shall forever share
The place of rest His hands prepare,
And join the hymning band,
That sing, while kindling rapture swells
Each bosom, endless glory dwells
In our Emmanuel’s land.
Come now, attending angels, come,
And waft me to my promised home;
Haste, haste, the skies explore-
I mount, I fly, I burst away,
I mingle with eternal day,
And sin and weep no more.’

Before closing this volume, we would once more earnestly invite you, as you value the salvation of your soul, the favor of God, and the joys of heaven, to come to the Savior now, and learn of Him the path to glory. Daily meditating on His Person and His redeeming work, come to Him for those heavenly blessings which He alone can confer, and which will make you eternally rich. May the Holy Spirit bring these truths borne to your heart with divine efficacy, constraining you to love the blessed Savior, to extol the riches of His grace, and to live to His glory on earth, until in heaven you shine as a star forever and ever. May your language now be that of the apostle Paul, ’For I determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ and Him crucified.’ ’God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world.’ On life’s dark and troubled ocean, may Jesus be your STAR, to guide you safely to the port of heavenly peace. Oh, while His voice of mercy sounds aloud, listen to his gracious words, ’I am the Root and the Offspring of David, and the bright Morning Star. The Spirit and the bride say, "Come!" And let him who hears say, "Come!" Whoever is thirsty, let him come; and whoever wishes, let him take the free gift of the water of life.’

Blessed Jesus, while You are waiting to be gracious, may we be enabled by Your grace to come to You, that our guilty souls may be washed in Your precious blood; that we may be clothed in Your spotless righteousness, and prepared for the mansions of never-ending bliss. You our only hope, our trust, our stay; and may all our well-springs be in You. May we now embrace You as our divine Redeemer; and daily live on Your infinite fullness. Deeply interest us in the everlasting blessings of Your atonement and intercession; and may we be no longer insensible to Your wondrous love as displayed in the work of redemption. May Your love pervade our hearts, and bring us that peace which passes all understanding. May we daily search the Scriptures, which testify of You, and be made wise unto salvation.

May we now attend to the one thing needful, remembering the time is short; that the night comes in which none can work; and that there is no salvation in the grave, on the verge of which we stand. May our souls be weaned from the vanities of this transitory world, and placed on the sublime, and holy, and unending joys of the saints’ rest, in the upper Paradise. May Your name and Your work be very precious to us in all our wanderings as pilgrims of earth. May the sincerest desires of our souls be to know more and more about the infinite excellence of Your Person, and the marvelousness of that grace, which You have so abundantly manifested to the world in Your death upon the cross for transgressors. May the great mystery of godliness- God manifested in the flesh- be the subject of our high and holy meditation in the house of our pilgrimage, until death shall bear us to the courts of the celestial Zion, where we shall see You face to face, and learn the new and everlasting songs of the general assembly and Church of the first-born.

May we now love to think of You in Your original glory with the Father, before the foundation of the world was laid, or the sky spread out, when Your delights were with the sons of men. May we delight to contemplate the object of Your glorious mission to earth, and to trace Your blessed footsteps through this valley of tears, from the manger to the cross, and from the grave up to God’s right hand. May our hearts be cheered by the sweet thought of Your continual intercession for us in heaven; and may we greatly rejoice when we look forward to Your glorious appearing at the last day. Awaken us from our spiritual slumbers; and deeply impress on our minds the interesting, important, and solemn lessons which these sacred truths teach. May the bright beams of Your grace shine into our hearts, causing us to behold Your splendor as the Sun of Righteousness, and to rejoice in Your salvation.

O blessed Savior, may we be truly guided to You; enlightened and sanctified by Your grace; and safely carried in the arms of Your love through all the agitated scenes of life to the land of eternal rest beyond the swelling of Jordan. In death may we sing of Your loving kindness, and Your power to save our souls; and when we pass the valley of mortality, oh may we find mansions of glory prepared for us in Your Father’s house, where You shall feed us, and lead unto living fountains of waters, and wipe away all tears from our eyes. Oh, grant, that in those blissful realms of everlasting light, where peace and rest forever dwell, we, may be among that happy throng who shall encompass Your throne with the songs of salvation; and behold with rapturous delight Your glory as that of the only begotten of the Father; as the glory of the Star of Jacob- the Bright and Morning Star.

’When marshaled on the nightly plain,
The glittering host bestud the sky;
One Star alone, of all the train,
Can fix the sinner’s wandering eye.
Hark! hark! to God the chorus breaks,
From every host, from every gem;
But one alone the Savior speaks,
It is the Star of Bethlehem.
Once on the raging seas I rode,
The storm was loud, the night was dark,
The ocean yawned, and rudely blowed
The wind that tossed my foundering bark.
Deep horror then my vitals froze,
Death-struck, I ceased the tide to stem;
When suddenly a Star arose,
It was the Star of Bethlehem.
It was my guide, my light, my all,
It bade my dark forebodings cease;
And through the storm and danger’s thrall
It led me to the port of peace.