Now, in all plainness and truth, are not these the qualities to make a good Captain-" the captain of our salvation ?" He brings us love and righteousness from God, the forgiveness of sins, and His power to change our hearts are not these the gifts which may lead and bear our lives along into heaven's bright ocean of purity and bliss? Christ is the Captain. You are the ship. Have Him aboard at the head of all things. But if you won't have Him don't be surprised if, when the day of disaster shall come, it shall come because you "wouldn't be towed, and the captain was ashore." "Thou art with Me." T is told of the Prince of Orange (then King William III.) that when in 1691 he set sail for the beloved land of his birth, finding the voyage exceedingly tedious, on account of a heavy sea fog and other circumstances, which rendered it dangerous for the ships to proceed, he determined to land in an open boat. He knew that Holland was near, though the mist and fog prevented the weary sailors from seeing the coast; and, although his courtiers endeavoured to dissuade him from risking so valuable a life, he persisted in his intention. The danger was far greater than any of them anticipated. The darkness came on apace, and, instead of landing in an hour, as they had hoped to do, the little boat was tossed to and fro all night, sometimes in peril from the floating ice, sometimes from the yet more treacherous sandbank, whilst ever and anon the cold waves dashed over the little party, king and subjects alike. Lord Macaulay tells us that the most courageous mariners were anxious and troubled, but the noble William was calm and composed throughout, 1 Heb. ii. 10. evincing no fear. "For shame," he said to one of the dismayed sailors, "are you afraid to die in my company?" I have many times thought what a beautiful comment this little incident is upon the words of the sweet Psalmist, the man after God's own heart. What does he say about death? "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me." David, then, plainly declares that it was the assurance of God's presence that removed his fear of death. I have thought of this little story, too, when I have heard Christian people speak and pray about death as if it were the one thing to be dreaded above all others. To the unconverted man the thought of death must necessarily and most reasonably be an unwelcome, and even a terrible one. It is the wages of sin, and he has never been freed from the condemnation of sin. It will be the termination of the only existence for which he has made any preparation; the beginning of an existence of hopeless. despair and misery. It is terrible for these reasons, and even more terrible because he will have to meet this great event alone. He will have to struggle alone with the dark waters; no friendly hand from either side of the river will be outstretched to reach him. Riches, honour, fame, friends, and worldly pleasures will all alike fail him. Oh! if an unconverted man or woman should take up this paper, one who has never been born again of the Holy Spirit, I cannot wonder that to such an one the prospect of death should be one of gloom and darkness. I cannot even wish that it should be otherwise with you, dear unsaved reader, until sin, the "sting of death," has been taken away from your conscience by the blood of Jesus Christ. Hard indeed would be your heart; sad, oh unspeakably sad, your condition, if the prospect of meeting a just and offended God had no terror for you, produced no solemn impression upon your mind. As long as you are out of Christ you have reason to fear death; abundant reason, for death is a terrible reality, one which you cannot possibly avoid, one which, sooner or later, you will certainly have to meet. You know not how soon, therefore "Prepare to meet thy God,"1 for thou knowest not when He may send for thee, and His messenger is death. Oh, seek now His mercy, that His mercy may cover thee then; respond now to His love, that His love may be thy stay in that dark hour. Live now in His presence, and His presence shall certainly be with thee then, thy guide, thy comfort, thy support. But though it is a natural and reasonable thing for the unpardoned sinner to fear death, it is a very different thing for the child of God to do so; and yet this fear is so common, so groundless, so dishonouring to the Lord, and so perilous to our joy, that I feel constrained to say a few words, in the hope that they may, with the Divine blessing, help to remove it from some mind now in bondage. It may be well for us to remember that by entertaining a morbid fear of death, we do the very thing which it is expressly said of the Lord Jesus that He came to save His people from. In Hebrews ii. 15, we find it very plainly stated of Him that He came to "deliver them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage." This, then, was part of the mission of our Saviour, and we may learn from it His will concerning us. It is evidently contrary to His blessed purpose that we should be thus "in bondage." He has delivered us, in fact, from the curse, being "made a curse for us." He would have us live in the realisation of this deliverance, live in the full liberty and light and love which He has purchased for us at so great a cost. He has delivered us; but how? By Himself conquering death, and "him that had the power of death." Therefore, we who trust in Jesus will have to meet a conquered foe, a vanquished enemy, one who has no power to hurt us. He has also Himself tasted death; He has known all the bitterness; He has passed through the dark valley, and that valley must evermore be fragrant of Him. 1 Amos iv. 12. Where He has led, shall we fear to follow? Since He has died, shall we fear to die? Death and the grave have no attractions, indeed, apart from Him; there is a something repulsive to human nature in the dissolution of soul and body, in the "dust to dust," and the "unclothing" of which St. Paul speaks. But the Christian has no occasion to dread these things; he has rather to remember that Christ has changed that word death into "sleep," thus taking away the harshness and gloom from it. He has to remember, not the darksome grave, but the glory-land beyond; not so much the "absent from the body," as the "present with the Lord;" not the "unclothing," but the being "clothed upon." "Oh! to think of the place I am going to; to be introduced to the presence of God!" was the exclamation of the Rev. Henry Craik, when he lay upon his deathbed; and when the end was still nearer he remarked, "My mind is so full, and I am having such a happy and prosperous voyage !" Ah! it was the presence of Christ that made the voyage so "happy and prosperous;" and it is because He has promised to be with us that we need not fear. This, and this only, is our strength and comfort. We have to come back to the same point as David, “I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me." Even a conquered foe might prove too much for our unaided strength; but if the Conqueror is with us, what then? Only the cry of victory, "Thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” 1 The Prince of Orange was displeased that one of his subjects should fear to die in his presence. A greater than the Prince of Orange shall be with us; and though the fog and mist may be all around us, He knows the shore that lies just beyond the dark waters; it is His fatherland, and ours, too, through our union with Him. Shall we fear the raging of those waters, when He is 1 I Cor. xv. 57. close beside us who has promised, "I will never leave thee nor forsake thee"? What does the world think of a Christian who speaks of heaven as his home, and yet pulls a long face, and is utterly dismal and cast down at the prospect of taking the journey to that home? Can we wonder if that world questions his sincerity, questions the power of his faith, his love, his joy? Paul's testimony was not a doubtful one: he was willing to remain ; but he did not hesitate to declare that to depart and be with Christ was "far better." Peter, as much as any one, had cause to fear a death which, many years before, our Lord had told Him would be one of suffering and of martyrdom; yet he speaks most composedly of the event, as “putting off this tabernacle ;" nothing more. Whilst the beloved disciple does but transcribe the testimony (bright and glorious beyond all human words) of the Holy Spirit, "And I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours; and their works do follow them." 1 Oh! that our testimony might be clear and bright like theirs! It is true that God does not give us dying grace until dying moments; but it is equally true that He would have us trust Him now for the grace that He assuredly will give then, and believe His promise that "at eventide it shall be light." "Is death a foe to dread? the death who giveth The contemplation of our Lord's character, the memory of His love, the anticipation of the glory "that lieth on before," will best help us to enter into the spirit of eager impatience with which the sainted Samuel Rutherford wrote, "Oh, that time would post faster, and hasten our communion with that Fairest among the sons of men! But a few years 1 Rev. xiv. 13. |