R Arrows

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Ready to die.

Old George the Third, who, whatever the faults of his early days, was undoubtedly a godly man in his old age, would have a mausoleum prepared for himself and family; and when Mr. Wyatt, the architect, went to see him by his own order, he did not know how to speak to the old king about his grave; but George said, "Friend Wyatt, do not mind speaking about my tomb. I can talk as freely to you about the preparation of a place for me to be buried in as I could about a drawing room for me to hold my court in; for I thank God that I am prepared to do my duty if I live, and to sleep in Jesus if I die." There are but few, I think, of his rank who could talk so; but every wise man ought to see to it, that, as he must die, he is ready for it—ready for the bar of God.

Real life imitated.

Multitudes of religious people are like waxworks, well proportioned, and you might mistake them by candle light for life; but in the light of God you would soon discover a mighty difference, for the best that human skill can do is but a poor imitation of real life. Dressed in the garments of family religion, and adorned with the jewels of modern virtue, you may be nothing beyond "a child of nature finely dressed, but not the living child." God's living children may not seem to be quite so handsome, not so charmingly arrayed as you are, and in their own esteem they may not be worthy to consort with you, but there is a solemn difference between the living child and the dead child, however you may try to conceal it.

Real pleasure.

"Well, Jack, old fellow," said one who met a man who had lately joined the church, "I hear you have given up all your pleasures. "No, no," said Jack; "the fact lies the other way. I have just found all my pleasures, and have only given up all my follies." Every Christian man can confirm that way of putting it. We who have believed in Jesus have lost no real pleasures, but we have gained immensely in that direction.

Recognition in Heaven.

I cannot forget old John Ryland's answer to his wife: "John" she said, "will you know me in heaven?" "Betty," he replied, "I have known you well here, and I shall not be a bigger fool in heaven than I am now; therefore I shall certainly know you there." That seems to be clear enough. We read in the New Testament, "They shall sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven;" not sit down with three unknown individuals in iron masks, or three impersonalities who make part of the great Pan, nor three spirits who are exactly alike as pins made in a factory; but Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

Reconciliation. The only way for anybody to understand the bliss of reconciliation is to be reconciled himself. I have told you, I think, the story of the boy at the mission house to whom the missionary gave a piece of white sugar. He had never seen it before, and when he reached home, he told his father about this sweet stuff. His father said, "Is it like so and so?" The boy could not answer his father's questions, and so he ran down the street to the teacher, and said, "Teacher, please give me a lump of the white stuff for my father; he wants to know how sweet it is, and I cannot tell him. He must eat it for himself." Reconciliation to God has a sweetness in it which he only knows who enjoys it.

Record—kept by God. Our Lord does not call for the time sheet every night, but a time sheet is kept all the same; and there will be a day for passing in the checks, and we shall have to answer for what we have done.

Reflection of self. The reflection of self in the Word is very like life. You have perhaps seen a dog so astonished at his image in the glass that he has barked fiercely at himself. A parrot will mistake its reflection for a rival. Well may the creature wonder, since every one of its movements is so accurately copied; it thinks itself to be mocked. Under a true preacher men are often so thoroughly unearthed and laid bare that even the details of their lives are reported. Not only is the portrait drawn to the life, but it is an actually living portrait which is given in the mirror of the Word. There is little need to point with the finger, and say, "Thou art the man," for the hearer perceives of his own accord that he is spoken of.

Religion all important.

If religion is important, it is all important. If it is anything, it is everything. If false, leave it altogether, and if true, love it altogether. To show how the joy of religion is proportioned to the degree of it, I sometimes tell a story. It is a parable most instructive and fully to the point, and therefore I cannot help repeating it. It is a story of a man in America, who was fond of growing the choicest apples. He asked a neighbor to come up to his orchard and taste his apples, which he greatly praised as the best in the world. This high praise he sang many times in his friend's ear; but he could not get him to come to his place to taste the fruit. He asked him again and again to come, but he would not. He therefore hinted there must be a reason for his refusal. "Well," said the other, "the truth is, one day I was driving by your orchard and I saw an apple or two that had dropped into the road. I picked one up and tasted it, and it was, without exception the sourest thing in creation. I am much obliged to you, but I have had enough for one lifetime." "Oh!" said the owner, "do you know I went forty miles to buy those sour apples, and I planted them all along the hedge; for I thought they would be good for boys, and keep them from stealing the apples. They are a fine sort for that particular purpose. But if you will come and see me, I will lead you inside the orchard, past those first two or three rows, and you will find a sweetness and flavor which will fill your mouth with delight." "I see," said the other, "I see." Do you also see my drift? All around the outside of religion, there are sour fruits of prohibitions, rebukes, repentances, and self-denials, to keep hypocrites out. Have you never seen how long they pull their faces, as if their religion did not agree with them? and that is because they have eaten the sour apples on the outskirts. But, oh, if you would come near to the faith and joy which are in Jesus Christ, if you would give all your heart to heavenly pursuits, you would find it quite another thing: then would your heart rejoice with joy unspeakable, and full of glory.

Religious ostriches.

What numbers of professors I have known who go into one place of worship, and hear one form of doctrine, and apparently approve it, because the teacher is "a clever man!" They hear an opposite teaching, and they are equally at home, because again it is "a clever man!" They join with a church, and you ask them, "Do you agree with the views of that community?" They neither know nor care what those views may be; one doctrine is as good as another to them. Their spiritual appetite can enjoy soap as well as butter; they can digest bricks as well as bread. These religious ostriches have a marvellous power of swallowing everything; they have no spiritual discernment, no appreciation of truth. They follow any clever person, and in this prove that they are not the sheep of our Lord's pasture, of whom it is written, "A stranger will they not follow; for they know not the voice of strangers."

Religious routine.

I have heard of soldiers sleeping while on the march, and I have known some good people to sleep while praying, till I have thought that their prayers were a kind of pious snore. They go on with the old phrases without considering what they mean by them. They are like crickets, whose notes are ever the same. "I sleep," says the spouse, "but my heart waketh;" but these might more truly say, "I do not sleep, and yet my heart is not awake." Many prayers are like a grocer's or draper's account: Ditto, ditto, ditto. The petitions are as per usual. It is dreary when we have the shell of a prayer before us, but have no oyster in it. The brother's lips are here in prayer, but his soul has gone home to his shop, or to his farm. The sails of his mill go round as the wind blows, but he is not grinding anything, there is no grist in the mill, no intelligent, loving desire. Let us get out of the ruts of phrases and set petitions. Mere routine religion is hateful, and yet how easily we fall into it. Let us not rest on our oars, and hope to make progress by the impetus already gained.

Remembrancer—Lord's. A high office is that of remembrancer to the King of kings. Every Christian holds this eminent position. Oriental kings maintained an officer whose business it was to remind the king of those promises he had made aforetime. He said this to that courtier, that to the other; but his majesty had plenty of other things to think of, and therefore, every now and then, his remembrancer would say, "Please your majesty, you promised to do this and that, may it please you to perform your word." Now, the Lord has appointed His praying people to be His remembrancers. I should never have dared to use such an expression had I not found it in the inspired Word itself. The Lord says in Isaiah xliii, 26, "Put me in remembrance." The Lord cannot forget; but in condescension to our forgetfulness, He bids us act as if He could do so, and put Him in remembrance. By calling the promise to the Lord's remembrance, we are ourselves made to be the better acquainted with it. I find that a remembrancer was also appointed in our English courts, to remind the officers of their duty to their sovereign; and this is also a part of our work, to remind the world that there is a God, and that He claims obedience from His creatures. Brethren, fulfil your office.

Repentance. The best expectancy is that which doth with patience wait. Our esteemed brother, Mr. Lockhart, tells a story of one of his members, of the name of Carey—a royal name that! She was very sick and near to die, but she expressed a desire to live, at which he was somewhat astonished, for he knew her to be so well prepared to depart. She wished to stay here for a while for a good and laudable reason. There was one thing which she could see here on earth, which she could not see in heaven, and she wished to remain here to see it again and again. "What is that?" Mr. Lockhart asked. "It is the tear of repentance on the sinner's cheek: I want to see a great many more of those before I go home."

Repentance—True.

I remember the story of Thomas Olivers, the famous cobbler convert, who was a loose living man till he was renewed by grace through the preaching of Mr. Wesley, and became a mighty preacher, and the author of that glorious hymn, "The God of Abraham praise." This man, before conversion, was much in the habit of contracting debts. He says, "I felt as great sorrow and confusion as if I had stolen every sum I owed." Now, he was not repentant for this one debt, or that other debt, but for being in debt at all, and therefore, having a little coming to him from the estate of a relative, he bought a horse, and rode from town to town, paying everybody to whom he was indebted. Before he had finished his pilgrimage he had paid seventy debts, principal and interest, and had been compelled to sell his horse, saddle, and bridle to do it. During this eventful journey he rode many miles to pay a single sixpence: it was only sixpence, but the principle was the same, whether the debt was sixpence, or a hundred pounds. Now as he that hates debts will try to clear himself of every sixpence, so he that repents of sin repents of it in every shape. No sin is spared by the true penitent. He abhors all sin.

Reserve of Christians.

It is a pity that Christian people so often shut themselves up within themselves. This is a particular fault of English people; you shall travel all over the world, in the same railway carriage with an Englishman, and he will not say a word to you. Christian people would get much good from one another if they would not be so distant. Many precious children of God have sat side by side by the hour together, and out of undue reserve, which they have thought most proper, they have failed to communicate, and have missed the opportunity of a sacred commerce of thought and experience which would have enriched them both.

Rest at home.

Home is the place of special rest. At home we are unloaded of all the world's huge load. The advocate takes off his gown, and says, "Lie there, Mr. Barrister, and let the father come to the front! "The tradesman takes off his apron, the warrior his harness, the bearer his yoke, for he is at home; and if a man may rest anywhere on earth it must surely be in his own habitation. Is not our God our rest? O beloved, is there indeed beneath the sun any repose for a poor soul except in God? There remaineth a rest for the people of God, and that rest is God Himself. "Return unto thy rest, O my soul; for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee."

Rest greatly needed. In Cromwell's time, a writer tells us that he walked all down Cheapside in the early morning and found all the blinds down, because at every house they were having family prayer. Where will one go to find such a state of things in this burning age? You are up in the morning and at it; and all day long you are at it, and at it, and at it. Little rest is given to our minds, and yet we want holy rest.

Rest of knowing.

I remember well a minister, whom I much respect, saying to me, "I wish I could feel as you do. You have certain fixed principles about which you are sure, and you have only to state them and enforce them; but I am in a formative state; I make my theology fresh every week." Dear me, I thought, what a hopeless state for progress and establishment! If the student of mathematics had no fixed law as to the value of numbers, but made a new multiplication table every week, he would not make many calculations. If a baker were to say to me, "Sir, I am always altering the ingredients in my bread: I make a different bread every week," I should be afraid the fellow would poison me one of these days. I would rather go to a man whose bread I had found good and nourishing. I cannot afford to experiment in the bread of life. Beside, there is an intellectual unrest in all this kind of thing, which is escaped from when we come to love the Word of the Lord as we love our lives. Oh, the rest of knowing within your very soul that the truth you rest upon is a sure foundation!

Restless minds. A mind on wheels knows no rest; it is as a rolling thing before the tempest. Struggle against the desire for novelty, or it will lead you astray as the will o' the wisp deceives the traveller. If you desire to be useful, if you long to honor God, if you wish to be happy, be established in the truth, and be not carried about by every wind of doctrine in these evil days, "Be ye steadfast, unmovable."

Restrained from sin.

We have not been so bad as others because we could not be. A certain boy has run away from home. Another boy remained at home. Is he, therefore, a better child? Listen! he had broken his leg, and could not get out of bed. That takes away all the credit of his staying at home. Some men cannot sin in a certain direction, and then they say to themselves, "What excellent fellows we are to abstain from this wickedness!" Sirs, you would have done it if you could, and therefore your self praise is mere flattery. Had you been placed in the same position as others, you would have acted as others have done, for your heart goes after the same idols.

Reward for service.

You remember the old Romish legend, which contains a great truth. There was a brother who preached very mightily, and who had won many souls to Christ, and it was revealed to him one night in a dream, that in heaven he would have no reward for all he had done. He asked to whom the reward would go, and the angel told him it would go to an old man who used to sit on the pulpit stairs and pray for him. Well, it may be so, but both would most likely share their Master's praise. We shall not be rewarded, however, simply according to our apparent success.

Riches abused.

I knew a brother who, when he had a little money, rejoiced to have it because he gave to the cause of God abundantly. I believe that he is worth a hundred times as much as he was then, and he gives a hundredth part of what he used to do when he was poorer. In proportion as his pocket has grown golden his heart has grown bronzy. He has gone down in himself in proportion as he has gone up in his property, and now he does not enjoy things as he used to do. He is a poor creature to what he once was; even in his own esteem he is not the happy man he once was.

Ridicule endured.

I wonder when I hear some people say, "I cannot stand being laughed at." "Does laughter break bones?" "But ridicule is very sharp." "Is it? Do the wounds bleed?" "Well," cries one, "a keen sarcasm from a wit stings you!" "Does it? Have you no cure for such bites? "Some of us have in our minds been like Marcus Arethusa, who was stung to death by wasps; and yet we are none the worse, but rather are we all the better, for there remains no place whereon a new sting can operate.

Righteousness.

I saw a pedler one day, as I was walking out; he was selling walking sticks. He followed me, and offered me one of the sticks. I showed him mine—a far better one than he had to sell—and he withdrew at once. He could see that I was not likely to be a purchaser. I have often thought of that when I have been preaching: I show men the righteousness of the Lord Jesus, but they show me their own, and all hope of dealing with them is gone. Unless I can prove that their righteousness is worthless, they will not seek the righteousness which is of God by faith.

Real faith will find a way out of perplexity, or will make one.

Religion without a heart is a wretched affair.

Remove grace out of the gospel, and the gospel is gone.

Repentance, apart from Christ, will need be repented of.

Repentance puts us in a lowly seat. Revivals are our jubilees.