5 Sermon Illustrations on Rest in Christ

As a clock can never stand still from running, so long as the weights and plummets do hang thereat; even so a worldly man, having infinite cares, cogitations, and anxieties hanging on his mind, can never have rest or quiet, day or night, but is enforced to be working his brains when other men sleep, to compass those trifles wherein he is encumbered. Cawdray.

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.

resting. The eyes of the sleeper ache no more with the glare of light or with the rush of tears; his ears are teased no more with the noise of strife or the murmur of suffering; his hand is no more weakened by long protracted effort and painful weariness; his feet are no more blistered with journeyings to and fro along a rugged road; there is ease for aching heads, and overtaxed nerves, and heavy hearts, in the sweet repose of sleep. On the couch, however hard, the laborer shakes off his toil, the merchant his care, the thinker his difficulties, and the sufferer his pains. Sleep makes each night a Sabbath for the day. Sleep shuts the door of the soul and bids all intruders tarry for a while. So is it with the body while it sleeps in the tomb. The weary are at rest: the servant is as much at ease as his lord. No more the worker leans on his spade, no more the thinker props his pensive head. The wheel stands still; the shuttle is not in motion; the hand which turned the one and the fingers which threw the other are quiet also. The grave shuts out all disturbance, labor, or effort. The toilworn believer quietly sleeps, as does the child weary with its play, when it shuts its eyes and slumbers on its mother's breast. Oh! happy are they who die in the Lord; they rest from their labors, and their works do follow them. We would not shun toil, for though it be in itself a curse, it is, when sanctified, a blessing; yet toil for toil's sake we would not choose. And when God's work is done, we are too glad to think that our work is done too. The mighty Husbandman, when we have fulfilled our day, shall bid His servants rest upon the best of beds, for the clods of the valley shall be sweet to them. Their repose shall never be broken until He shall rouse them up to give them their full reward. Guarded by angel-watchers, curtained by eternal mysteries, resting on the lap of mother earth, they shall sleep on, heirs of glory, till the fullness of time shall bring them the fullness of redemption.