Church of Christ Studies

The Savior's Invitation

While looking over this large audience, I was just thinking by way of comparison: I live in one of the smallest counties of Tennessee. There are practically as many gathered in this auditorium to-night as there are in the entire county from whence I came; and by way, therefore, of comparison, I think of the wonderful, wonderful responsibility that rests upon me in trying to speak to you and trying to impress you with the thought that not only will last throughout the realm of time, but will carry its influence into the boundless beyond.

 

I am hoping and praying as I speak that nothing unsound or possibly detrimental may be announced. I want to talk to you about the Savior's invitation. It is found in Matt. 11: 28-30.

 

But, preparatory to that, there are some passages of scripture that may be of interest by way of further introduction. Let me call your attention before I read to the geography connected with these verses. About seventy miles north of the sea called the "Dead Sea" is the one known as "Galilee," "Tiberias," "Chinnereth," or "Gennesaret." On the shores thereof are three prominent cities. On the north is the city of Bethsaida; then just a little distance west is Chorazin; then, swinging down to the west, is the city of Capernaum, in which the Savior lived toward the latter part of his career; toward the southwest is the little town of Nazareth, in which the Savior's early life was spent.

 

Now, commencing with verse 20 of this chapter, there are these words: "Then began he to upbraid the cities wherein most of his mighty works were done, because they repented not: Woe unto thee, Chorazin! woe unto thee, Bethsaida! for if the mighty works which were done in you, had been done in Tyre and Sidon [the Old Testament cities on the Phoenician coast], they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes. But I say unto you, It shall be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon at the day of judgment, than for you. And thou, Capernaum, which art exalted unto heaven [not that Capernaum was any higher topographically than the others, because they were all upon a plane; but in the way of privileges, advantages, and special favors this was said], shalt be brought down to hell: for if the mighty works, which have been done in thee, had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until this day." Now to the text direct (verses 28-30): "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."

 

I want to say to this audience that there is one lesson to be derived from the first part of this scripture that I believe ought to strike home, and that is this: that people are accountable unto God to-night not only for what they know, but for what they could find out. And if there is any lesson at all, it is this: there will be more consideration shown in the day of judgment for those cities that never had an opportunity to hear God's message than for those that have had these privileges and rejected them.

 

That leads me to state to you that Nashville, Tenn., is quite an unfavorable city from which to pass to the judgment unprepared. I would much rather take my start from the Congo State, in Africa, than to go from Tennessee. I would much rather live and die in the South Sea Islands and risk favors at the hand of God in the day of judgment than to pass from this that you properly style, perhaps, the very "Athens of the South," and from a country in which Bibles are printed and distributed, a country where the gospel of Christ can be heard on every hand.

 

I would like to impress upon you the solemnity and seriousness of our passing from this enlightened, if not entirely Christian, land. We are accountable unto God Almighty for what we learn while tabernacling here below. Notwithstanding the fact that cities wherein Christ had wrought his mighty works, wherein he had been a citizen, had rejected him and his teachings and spurned his invitation, he graciously said to them: "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." I think that in this is an evidence of his superhumanity and his divinity. Our disposition, when we preach and beg and persuade and wear our lives out in an effort to benefit mankind, and be absolutely and flatly refused, is to say: "The back of my hand to you ;" "Go to it ;" "Suffer the consequences;" "I am done." But Christ understood the awfulness of their course much better than did they. He could doubtless say: "You know not what manner of people you are; and, notwithstanding your insult and the fact that you have rejected me, I still say with loving heart, beckoning hand, and tender voice: 'Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."' Remember, no king, no prophet, no priest, no bard, no seer that had ever lived had dared to offer such an invitation as this.

 

I ask you, ladies and gentlemen, does it seem egotistic and out of the realm of propriety for Jesus Christ to stand with extended arms and say to all the world: "Come unto me?" Why, it would be the very embodiment of a puffed up, unduly inflated spirit if I were to make a statement like that. Were I to come to the city of Nashville, "rocksurrounded and rock-founded," and say to her people, "Come unto me," there would be a thousand voices saying: "Sir, who are you? From whence came you? What right have you to say, 'Come?' And what assurance, if we accept your invitation, that any benefit will be derived therefrom?" But the man that said this had lived in a little, despised town. "He shall be called a Nazarene," because of the fact that the very name of the village in which he lived carried with it the stigma of reproach. But when he made this statement, he had already stood on "Jordan's stormy banks" and had been acknowledged as the Son of God, in whom Heaven was well pleased. Not only so, but he had gone out into the wilderness all alone to meet the archenemy of mankind—to be weighed in the balance. From this mighty conflict he had come forth triumphant and victorious. Well might the angelic host come and minister unto him.

 

To have extended such an invitation and to have made such a promise without conscious ability to perform it would have been a mockery and a solemn trifling with the wants and woes of mankind, of which even his enemies admit Jesus was incapable.

 

I ask: Who is included in this invitation ? It is not addressed unto irresponsible idiots, it does not include innocent babes, it is not for the untaught heathen, it does not apply to the impenitent soul; but unto every one that is weary, that has labored, and is conscious of being heavily ladened, Christ said: "Come, rest."

 

There are some things right upon the surface that are implied in this invitation. First of all, it carries with it the implication that those invited are away. I would not think of inviting a man to come to me if he already were heart to heart and hand in hand and in perfect accord. The very fact that the invitation is announced implies that those for whom it was intended are aloof—separate and apart. Therefore, the Savior said: "Come."

 

But how came humanity away from the Christ? And why do they stand subjected to the need of an invitation of this kind? Strange as it is, you can hardly enter upon any kind of a discussion but that there are different and varied answers. A great many people would answer that the human family was born away from God and away from Christ; hence the doctrine of depravity and the miraculous operation of the Spirit. The doctrine of depravity suggests, as is found in some of the creeds, that "all men are conceived and born in sin." I want to say to you, frankly and emphatically, that I do not believe one single syllable of any such doctrine. And that is not all. The man does not live on the top side of God's green earth that can turn to the Bible and read such a statement therefrom. "O." says one, "does not the Bible say in Ps. 51: 5: 'Behold, I was shapen in iniquity; and in sin did my mother conceive me?'" Yes, I know that passage; but think of it just a moment. Does that prove that when a child is born upon the earth it has a heart as black as midnight darkness? I think not, but it is only indicative of the character of the mother and reflects not upon the child thus born.

 

Let me ask you: Does this total depravity come from the father or from the mother? If you say it comes from the father, then you have the~wrong scripture, for this verse does not say a word about the father. If you say, on the other hand, that depravity comes from the mother, then look what you have done! Jesus Christ himself was born of a woman; and if depravity is transmitted by the mother of whom we are born, then the Son of God had a streak of depravity in him.

 

Well, how came the world away? Without stopping to further that line of argument, which might be interesting to some, I repeat: How came it away? I want to answer in the language of Holy Writ (Isa. 59: 1, 2): "Behold, the Lord's hand is not shortened, that it cannot save; neither his ear heavy, that he cannot hear: but your iniquities have separated between you and your God, and your sins have hid his face from you, that he will not hear." Every man, therefore, to-night who is accountable stands away from God, not because of the fact that was so born, but because of his own sins, his own transgressions, and his individual iniquities. Hence, the Savior said: "Come."

 

But not only that. Since man is the one that has departed, he is the one that must return. As a matter of fact, I never spend much time in begging, pleading, and persuading God and Christ and the Holy Spirit to come into our midst to revive, to convict, and to convert. I think I understand the philosophy of the Christian religion with reference to these matters. God is willing, Christ is ready, the Holy Spirit is always beckoning and never turns away a single soul. Therefore man is the one upon whom the effort must be put forth. "Knowing therefore the terror of the Lord, we persuade men," rather than God or Christ or the Spirit. So Come!

 

Now, may I draw a picture from the Bible as to what condition characterizes every sinner in this attitude? In Eph. 2: 12 Paul said of those people previous to their conversion: "That at that time ye were without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers from the covenants of promise, having no hope, and without God in the world." There stands the picture, drawn by inspiration, of the status of every man and every woman who has not accepted the gospel call—without Christ, aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, strangers to the promise, without God and without hope in this world. Our intellect cannot save us. Our wealth avails nothing. Our political preferment and prominence, prestige and power, amount absolutely to nothing. Our ancestry, though it be of the finest, has no effect. Unless we accept the Savior's invitation and respond unto Heaven's call, all is lost. As your friend, I want to say to you, calmly and yet earnestly, there is no heaven for any man that refuses thus to do. "O." some may say, "that is mighty hard !" I cannot help it. I did not do it. The Savior thus declared.

 

Well, note further, we are away from God because of our own sins. We stand subjected unto the things thus mentioned. Not only that; Jesus said in John 8: 24, "If ye believe not that I am he, ye shall die in your sins ;" and in verse 21: "If you die in your sins, where I am, you cannot come." But this invitation implies another thing— namely, that those invited have the power, the liberty, and the ability to accept the call. What would you think of me if I were to hold out something attractive, wonderfully interesting, and especially desired by some child, and say, "Come unto me," when I knew that it was absolutely impossible? Let me present the picture after this fashion: Here is a little girl with golden curls, beautiful, just at the age to become exceedingly interesting and attractive; but there is a great iron stake driven down ten feet into the bosom of Mother Earth. The child is led up by the side of it. A chain of iron is wound about her feet and around her body until not a muscle can be moved. Knowing her condition, I step back here with a pretty little doll, one beautifully dressed, with golden slippers, that goes to sleep as you put it down, and I say to the child: "I know that you cannot come; but if you will, this doll shall be yours." You answer and say: "Sir, you hard-hearted, cold, and cruel soul, why tantalize and torment the child by offering that which you know it cannot accept?"

 

That is not as hard a picture as sometimes is painted of an alien sinner. The world would have me to believe that he is bound in the clutches of depravity—that he has ears, but he cannot hear; he has eyes, but he cannot see; he has limbs, but he cannot walk; he has a tongue, but he cannot talk. He is as dead as Lazarus ever was. And yet they picture Christ as saying to that poor sinner: "I know you cannot move. I understand you are helpless; but if you will come unto me, I will give you rest." Let me say that I could not respect a Christ of that kind. Such an one is not the God of the Bible nor the Christ that died for sinners upon the earth. When he said, therefore, "Come unto me, all ye that labor," it implies that man has the power and the ability to accept the call.

 

In John 5:39, 40 there is this statement of Jesus unto the Jews: "Search the scriptures; for in them ye think ye have eternal life: and they are they which testify of me." Now note: "And ye will not come to me, that ye might have life." He did not say that they could not. The Lord never intimated that it was beyond their power, but he said the reason that you have not life is because you Will not; and I say to you tonight, based upon the same declaration of God's word, if any man accountable to God is lost at the last day, it will be no fault of God nor of Christ nor of the Spirit, but it will be because of the fact that he will not accept the Savior's invitation.

 

I think one of the saddest scenes pictured in all the Bible is revealed in Matt. 23: 37. It is said of the Savior during the passion period of his life. Bidding farewell to the city of Jerusalem, he went across the valley of Jehosophat, on beyond the garden of Gethsemane, and climbed the heights of the Mount of Olives, from whose summit he looked back and gave the expression: "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 !" Thus is the Savior's lamentation and regret: "Jerusalem, weep not for me; weep for yourselves. I would have tenderly gathered you together, I would have hovered you under my wing, I would have protected and sheltered you; but you would not."

 

There is the truth. If at last on the left hand we are placed and he says, "Depart into everlasting fire," and we ask, "Why?" the answer is: "Because you would not."   There is the trouble. God provided, Christ died for us, the Holy Spirit has made it known, and gospel preachers throughout the ages have warned us and beckoned us. Yet we are lost. Why ? Because we would not.

 

So, I say, this invitation implies not only that those invited are away, but that they have the power and the liberty to accept the Savior's call.

 

But next, and last for the present, it implies that their condition will be benefitted if they will but respond to the call. I could not fancy nor imagine the spotless Son of God inviting suffering, sighing, sinful humanity to come unto him unless he meant it for their good and for their profit.

 

Are you weary? Are you heavy laden? Are you careworn? Have you burdens? If so, Christ says: "Come unto me, and I will give you rest. I will remove all of those." That is: "I will forgive your sins; and the man that cometh unto me, howsoever burdened he may have been, I will in no wise cast him aside. I will take your burdens myself, and bear them gently away, and give you rest therefrom." But that is not all. I think his promise not only implies rest from sin, from the worry and anxiety that sin necessarily brings with it and which attaches thereto, but it extends far beyond that. Outstripping the confines of time and launching out into the depths of the boundless beyond, that promise contemplates the final rest that remains for the people of God.

 

I would like to call your attention to the sweetness, the beauty and the attractiveness of that rest. Unto the man who has risen in the early morn with the voice of the birds, who has toiled during the day in an honorable occupation, and who, as the evening shadows gather and twilight comes stealing across the path, wends his way back to a humble home, conscious of a day's work well done, rest is, indeed, sweet. When the business man, upon whom responsibilities and cares have been placed, has finished his task, when his work has been checked up and all things made correctly to balance, he rejoices to be free from toil and from obligations no longer his.

 

I think I know the sweetness of that rest which comes to those who spend their time in preaching the gospel of the Son of God. I know the pleasure that attaches thereto and the joy that necessarily comes as a result of having told the story. I can appreciate the rest that comes after the meeting has closed and after labors have been expended. When, care-worn and bowed down by a sense of responsibility both to men and God, and when finally the benediction has been said, he can look back, conscious that he has not shunned to declare the whole counsel of God, and then return to those who love him best, I think there is a joy and sweetness that but few can appreciate.

 

When that old mariner out on the bosom of the ocean, storm-tossed and tempest-driven, approaches the other shore and sees the light in the distant land, he is filled with joy and pleasure that others cannot understand. When the armistice of the last war was signed and our own boys in far-away France set sail for their homes, sweethearts, kindred, and friends, there was a thrill that filled the soul; and when they at last laid aside their uniform of khaki and the cares no longer theirs, they entered into the fullness of that rest for which they had sighed.

 

As an encouragement to those of us that are trying to deny ourselves, that are trying to crucify the lusts of the flesh and to mortify the deeds of the body, let me say that after a while, when our forms shall have bended low, when our cheeks have been furrowed by the finger of time, when hoary hairs bedeck our brows, when we shuffle off all that is mortal and the Captain of our salvation bids us to stand on the quiet plains of a never-ending eternity, we shall enter into that rest that passeth understanding and appreciate in all its fullness what the Savior meant when he said: "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden."

 

I come, therefore, at the close of this talk to-night, to ask again: Are there any of you in this audience who will accept the Savior's earnest call? You have listened patiently to this effort of mine. Won't you believe in him with all your heart? Won't you from your sins turn away? Won't you publicly confess that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God ? Won't you walk down into the water and in the name of the sacred three be buried with the Lord, to rise and walk in newness of life, and then walk it until by and by God shall see fit to touch you with the finger of his love and bid you come home? If such there are, while together we stand and sing, the invitation is gladly tendered.