Bible Emblems Part 10

"'Ye waves,' he whispered, 'peace, be still.'

They calmed like a pardoned breast."

Once more propitious breezes waft them onward, till the morning dawn slowly glimmers in the eastern sky, and reveals, in dim outline, the mountain summits of the other side.

In all this I think I see something which reflects the lights and shades of a true Christian life. How does the believer at his conversion set out for heaven with the consciousness that Christ is with him. How, after the throes of conviction are past, does he expatiate in the sweet peace of believing, and rejoice in hope of the glory of G.o.d. How little dreams the convert of coming danger. How propitious the opening of his voyage. Often is his course so quiet that he suspends his watch, and loses sight of the near presence of Christ. Seasons come when he grows negligent, and perhaps feels no more of Christ's near presence with him than the disciples on the sea thought of their sleeping Master. Christ is not gone from him; but his ardent love towards Him has abated, and he no longer has that felt consciousness of His value he once had, nor does he realize his dependence as he should.

Trials come; temptations thicken; doubts and fears arise; Satan hara.s.ses him, and inward corruptions start into life again. Then is the soul tossed, like the disciples on the sea; then does the struggling believer look round for his Saviour, and cry, "Save, Lord, or I perish." Such trials of our faith come in the regular course of a Christian towards the other side, like the storm-belts near the tropics which lie in the sailor's route from one hemisphere to the other, and through which he must steer his way.

You and I, Christian, have sailed in such lat.i.tudes, and heard the winds of temptation blow, and felt the waves of distress dash over our frail bark. Thus we learned our weakness; thus were we humbled; thus were we taught to watch and pray; thus did we fly to Christ, and cry, "Lord, carest thou not that we perish?"

And it was his voice alone that stilled the tempest, and hushed the conflict of the soul. How sweet the peace of the believer after seasons of sore spiritual temptations! Great is the peace felt in the new-born soul when first it hears the voice of forgiveness; but there are other scenes, subsequent experiences, when, after fierce contests with l.u.s.ts and pa.s.sions, the Saviour gives the victory. Then when it is over there is a deeper tranquillity in the soul than was ever felt before. Then when we have weathered out the rough gales, and the heart has become sanctified and humbled, and we have got as it were out of sight of land on this side, then do we reach a clearer atmosphere, and enjoy the refreshing gales of the Spirit, which, like the trade-winds, bear us steadily along to port.

It appears that the disciples' expedition over the sea of Galilee was propitious in its beginning and at its close: their troubles lay along the middle pa.s.sage. We may remark how this is generally the case with the Christian's voyage to heaven. Generally his latter course is tranquil as he draws near to the other side. Ofttimes indeed he catches glimpses of the shining sh.o.r.e, and on the sunlit hills beyond descries something like the domes and turrets of the celestial city. Ofttimes when well over towards the other side faith brightens almost into vision; he seems to hear the distant music, and grows impatient to step ash.o.r.e. We watch his dying pillow till his heaving breast lies still. He has reached his eternal home; he has pa.s.sed over unto the other side.

I have thus endeavored to employ the narrative of the evangelist to ill.u.s.trate some of the prominent features of a Christian's life. He leaves the world of sin and vanity in obedience to the effectual call of the Holy Spirit. His destination is the better country on the other side.

The Master who called him goes with him all the way, delivers him from the trials and dangers which beset him, and guides him over the sea of life to the heavenly sh.o.r.e.

How does this description compare with your own experience? Have you truly obeyed the call of Christ, and embarked for the other side? While the sailing order of our text is before you, it is a good time to heave the lead, and take an observation. On what course are you sailing, and what progress are you making in your voyage? Ah, may we not ask some who professed once to leave all for Christ, whether after all the stir and preparation of your setting sail you have not put back into the old port you set out from? Are you not still living in your sins?

Others may not have travelled far, though it be months or years since you started. Alas, there are not a few professing Christians who seem never to lose sight of land this side. Years may have fled, but they have not got many leagues at sea yet. Clinging to earthly things; in love with the pleasures, fashions, and follies of this life; hankering for wealth or position, they do little else than hug these sh.o.r.es of vanity, and coast along among the green isles of temptation which are near them. Heave the lead, my brother, and see where you are. The Master's orders are, "_To the other side_." And if you have been loitering in these waters of worldliness and carnality, it becomes you, by repentance, prayer, and self-denial, to change your course and steer straight for heaven.

Others in the heavenly voyage may have reached the storm-belts, where dangers threaten and skies grow dark. The waves of affliction dash over the soul; doubts and misgivings trouble you; crosses and discouragements beset your way, and often you tremble lest you be a castaway: but courage, my brother; if _Christ_ be with you, you need not fear. Call to Jesus in the storm, and you shall ride it out. Think not that you have lost your course. If Christ be in the ship, if the soul has found him near, then head right to the wind and keep your course for heaven. "These light afflictions, which are but for a moment, work out for us an exceeding and eternal weight of glory."

And, my aged friends, may I not describe you as well-nigh over the sea of life, and nearing the other sh.o.r.e? Tell us, ye weather-beaten saints, have you not got through the rough middle pa.s.sage, and heard the voice of Jesus say to the storms, "Peace, be still?" Scores of years have pa.s.sed since you embarked with Christ; the world has changed, you have changed, and you are evidently nearing port: tell us, do you not feel that the night is far spent, and the day is at hand? Is not Christ nearer and nearer to you by faith, and do you not hope to be with him soon in glory?

Christian, don't you sometimes see land on the other side? Are not the hills of Beulah in the distance, and the celestial gates? Oh tell us, as you near the other side does not faith catch glimpses of the redeemed and the Redeemer? Christian, you are almost home. Death will soon furl the sail, and moor you by the sh.o.r.e.

My impenitent friend, the call of the gospel comes to you substantially in our text to "pa.s.s over unto the other side." Oh when will you give up this world, and live for heaven? Though you may refuse to obey the call, you cannot stay here long. Life has another side, and you must, ere long, depart. There is an eternity to which you are going--a dim, dark, dismal sh.o.r.e, on which you will be cast at death, far off from heaven.