Sermon Illustration

Some time ago a New York millionaire sat by his window, knowing that the hour of his death was drawing near, and, seeing a street-sweeper at work below, said; “I would give every penny of my fortune if I could change places with that man—if I could have my health back again.

There trudged along a Scottish highway years ago a little, old-fashioned mother. By her side was her boy. The boy was going out into the world. At last the mother stopped. She could go no farther. “Robert,” she said, “promise me something?” “What?” asked the boy. “Promise me something?” said the mother again.

Spurgeon tells a tale of a young man who made an open profession of the gospel. His father, greatly offended, gave him this advice: “James, you should first get yourself established in a good trade, and then think of the matter of religion.” “Father,” said the son, “Jesus Christ advises me differently; He says, ‘Seek ye first the kingdom of God’ ” ( Matt. 6:33 ).

Travelers tell us that there is, near the Jaffa gate at Jerusalem, a small terrace on the top of a hill, called the “Terrace of Indecision.” The ground is so level that the rain, falling upon it, seems at a loss which way to go. Part of it is carried over the west side, where it flows into the Valley of Roses, and gives life, fertility, beauty, and fragrance to the Sharon lilies and roses. The rest flows down the east side into the Valley of Tophet and onward to the Dead Sea. Every life has its terrace of indecision. On the decision of each one hangs his future of helpful life or of death.

Charles Spurgeon relates: “I can scarcely recall the details of a little incident in Russian history which might illustrate the emergency; but the fact, as far as my memory serves, was this. The Czar had died suddenly, and in the dead of night one of the counselors of the empire came to the Princess Elizabeth and said to her, ‘You must come at once and take possession of the crown.’ She hesitated, for there were difficulties in the way, and she did not desire the position.

When Moody and Sankey were conducting services in the mining region of England, coming out of the services one night, they noticed a man sitting just underneath the gallery. Although everybody else had left the church, he still remained. Mr. Moody sat down beside him, and found that he had been a constant attendant upon the services, and that he had determined this night that he would not leave the building until he had settled the question of his soul’s salvation. After prayer and the study of the Bible the matter was settled.

A young fellow heard a preacher from the olden days, and was greatly moved, and the preacher said: “When you have a religious impression, the time to act upon it is right then. The time when you hear God’s call, in which you ought to respond is right then.” And the young fellow walked down the aisle and publicly made his surrender to Christ, saying: “It shall be right now that I take Christ as my Savior.”

A few years ago I was living in a suburban town about twelve miles west of St. Louis, Missouri. One night I ran to catch a train to take me there and just managed to swing up on the back platform of the last car as it was pulling out. Feeling lucky that I had just caught it, I settled down for a nap till I reached my station. After about twenty minutes I looked out of the window to see where I was, and found the train was running right by the station at which I wished to get off.

A revival swept through the university at Princeton, New Jersey. Aaron Burr came to the president of the university and said: “Mr. president, I have made up my mind to consider the claims of Christ. Now, Mr. President, what would you do?” And the old president of the university gave him this advice: He said, “Burr, if I were you, I would wait until the excitement of the revival had subsided, and then I would think it out carefully.” Aaron Burr bowed his head a moment, and then he said, “Mr. President, that is exactly what I will do.” And, it is stated as a fact, that never again in his life did he express a desire to be a Christian, and they say he died without such an expression.

McIan of Glencoe meant to surrender, no doubt about it, when in 1691 William III gave the word that all royalists must take the oath or take the consequences. McIan meant to surrender, to go to the place where all the Highland chieftains were to go, and take the oath of allegiance, but he said, “I will be the last. I will go at just the last moment. The others have gone ahead, the others have been at Inverness weeks ago, to take the oath,” and he started a few days before the thirty-first of the previous month, really meaning to take the oath: but a snowstorm came on and detained him, causing him struggle and stumble through the snows.