I Had Nothing to Do - Only to Enter in

 •  6 min. read  •  grade level: 7
 
MR. N. was a fine old man; he had been for some forty years head-gardener in one family, and was living on a pension which his long and faithful services had procured for him.
It is difficult to define his spiritual condition, but as far as his expressions went, he gave me the impression that he was, in homely phrase, on very good terms with himself.
Being informed that N. was very ill, I went to visit him. His illness was simply the weakness of old age, for he was in his eightieth year. His mind was clear, and he was well able to converse. My first desire was to ascertain his real condition of soul. I said, “And, now, how is it as to your future? I suppose you are doing your best?”
He replied with great earnestness, “Oh, yes, I pray day and night.”
“Well, and now as to your sins, what about them?”
After earnest reflection, he replied with tremulous lips, dwelling on each slowly uttered word, “I think some of them are forgiven.”
There had evidently been an earnest survey on his part, and the issues dependent on his condition in this respect seemed to present themselves to his mind in great reality. It was as if he dared not say, “all were forgiven,” and yet the converse “none forgiven,” was either an admission too fearful to make in view of the consequences involved, or he was clinging to some hope that his “prayers,” his “best,” had procured or would procure some sort of remission of sin.
He was depending on his unceasing prayers—his earnestness—his sincerity, doubtless energized by the thought of soon having to meet God; and all was vague, dark uncertainty.
God connects certainty as to salvation with simple faith in the testimony He has given as to the person and work of His beloved Son the Lord Jesus Christ, therefore it could only be uncertainty with our aged friend.
His remark above quoted led me to present, as much as possible in the words of scripture, GOD’S SALVATION. I endeavored to show that “salvation,” “grace,” “mercy,” “peace” —the various precious terms in which God proclaims His blessed news—suppose man to be in the deepest need of such treatment on His part. Beyond this that God’s righteousness is presented for man’s acceptance on the ground of faith (Rom. 3) Man has no righteousness of his own before God—faith implying that man had no part in producing the righteousness, and must be a receiver and only a receiver. God’s salvation is full, complete, worthy of God and of His Eternal Son, through Whom alone this salvation could come, and that it is brought to us (Titus 2:1111For the grace of God that bringeth salvation hath appeared to all men, (Titus 2:11)). Then, further, it cannot possibly be “some” sins forgiven. It must be “all” or none; eternal life given and possessed, or “God’s wrath abiding on” the sinner.
I spent an hour with him unfolding the blessed truths of the gospel, which so strongly condemn sin, and yet which so fully present the perfect and only remedy to the sinner.
He asked me to pray for him before I left I mention this by way of contrast with what followed at my next interview. I left him with the words “The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin.” (1 John 1:77But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin. (1 John 1:7)), adding, “Would you have your ‘some’ put instead of God’s precious ‘all’?
On calling a fortnight later I found him very much worse. He was not able to spear without effort; but every word was all the more carefully chosen, and his manner and tone of utterance gave his expressions mon than usual force. As I entered I began with a word of sympathy, but before I could read his bedside, it evoked from him a loud ejaculation of “Better—much better.” On looking at his face I knew the words could not refer to his poor body, and I was therefore greatly cheered.
“It is all right now,” he said.
I asked, “How about your sins—is it some?”
“Oh, no, they are all gone.”
“Well, now, tell me all about it—you could not say this a fortnight ago.”
“No, I could not;” and he added in a kind, fatherly sort of way, “You need not doubt it—It is all right now.”
“I had no thought as to doubting you—I wish only to share the joy with you.”
“Oh,” he said, “I had nothing to do, only to enter in.” (John 10) After a pause, looking up with an intelligent, appreciating gaze, he added, “He showed me.” — “Bless the Lord that He should let me see it all NOW!”
What a retrospect there was in that “now” of his. Nearly eighty years spent—well, at all events, in the sin and folly of such hopes as he had been building upon, and “now”—at last—after such patience and long-suffering of our God, to have his eye opened to see that he was, to use his own words, “a poor vile sinner” before God, and to find before it was too late that it is Christ who saves. What mercy—what grace! The thought of it seemed to overwhelm him.
His beautifully simple explanation, though short, presented really the two sides, so to speak, of salvation. On man’s side, “Nothing to do—only to enter in.” On Christ’s side— “He showed me.” The former surely speaks of grace, but I felt there was also a sanctifying power in his hastening on to the latter—to give all the glory, all the praise to Him Who had saved him.
“I am a poor, vile sinner, hut what a weight is now taken off me,” he said, smiting his breast as he spoke. Then, looking up, he said, “And this is nothing to what it will be.”
He did not ask me to pray for him this time, as I have remarked, but together we rendered praise and thanksgiving to our God and Father for His matchless grace.
When I spoke of sending him some little delicacy next day, he said, “I may not be here to want it;” and when I left him, “Good bye; we shall meet above if not again here.” He was now sweetly calm about everything.
A week later it was very difficult for him to speak. “I am happy,” he managed to say several times. Alluding to his inability to eat much, and as if glad at the thought of soon having done with it forever, he said, “I want heavenly food.” This led to a remark that Christ was first his Saviour, then his Food.
One who saw him the next day wrote of him as follows:—
“The words ‘It is finished’ were on his mind. He repeated them several times in course of conversation. I asked him if he were afraid at the thought of eternity, and with such a bright happy expression, he looked at me, and said, ‘Oh no, not now; it’s all right now.’”
He bore happy, triumphant testimony to his own son, among others; and he fell asleep in Christ May 12th, 1876. A. F.