Warnings in Christian preaching emphasize the urgent call to repentance and the peril of ignoring God's voice, highlighting the spiritual dangers awaiting delay or rejection (Hebrews 3:15). Illustrations often use images of imminent physical danger—storms, rising tides, or diverging paths—to depict the critical need for timely heeding of divine admonitions (Proverbs 1:24-27).
Ignoring warnings about spiritual danger leads to destruction despite urgent calls to safety.
Look at that man in a boat on Niagara River. He is only about a mile from the rapids. A man on the bank shouts to him, "Young man, young man, the rapids are not far away; you'd better pull for the shore." "You attend to your own business; I will take care of myself," he replies. Like a great many people here, and ministers, too, they don't want any evangelist here--don't want any help, however great the danger ahead. On he goes; sitting coolly in his boat. Now he has got a little nearer, and a man from the bank of the river sees his danger, and shouts: "Stranger, you'd better pull for the shore; if you go further, you'll be lost. You can be saved now if you pull in." "Mind your business, and you'll have enough to do; I'll take care of myself." Like a good many men, they are asleep to the danger that's hanging over them while they are in the current. And I say, drinking young man, don't you think you are standing still. You are in the current, and if you don't pull for a rock of safety you will go over the precipice. On he goes. I can see him in the boat laughing at the danger. A man on the bank is looking at him, and he lifts up his voice and cries, "Stranger, stranger, pull for the shore; if you don't you'll lose your life;" and the young man laughs at him--mocks him. That is the way with hundreds in Chicago. If you go to them and point out their danger, they will jest and joke at you. By and by he says: "I think I hear the rapids--yes, I hear them roar;" and he seizes his oars and pulls with all his strength, but the current is too great, and nearer and nearer he is drawn on to that abyss, until he gives one unearthly scream, and over he goes. Ah, my friends, this is the case with hundreds in this city. They are in the current of riches of pleasure, of drink, that will take them to the whirlpool.
Wild dancing invites Satan's influence and God's sudden judgment.
Where wildness and disorder are visible in the dance, there Satan, death, and all kinds of mischief, are likewise upon the floor. For this reason, I could wish that the dance of death were painted on the walls of all ball-rooms, in order to warn the dancers not, by the levity of their deportment, to provoke the God of righteousness to visit them with a sudden judgment.
— Gothold
Various proverbs illustrate being caught between two dangers, highlighting life's difficult choices.
Flying from the bull, I fell into the river. — Spanish. — To shun Charybdis, and strike upon Scylla. — Latin. — A precipice ahead, wolves behind. — Latin. — To be between the Devil and the deep sea. — English. — To be between the hammer and the anvil. — French.
A Christian officer's warning to flee wrath led to a young man's conversion.
In former days, when a military company was to be called out, the notice delivered to each of the members was called "the warning." An officer, who was a Christian, having given the warning to a young man, was playfully accosted by another young man, who was not a member of the company, with the question, "Have you not a warning for me too?" The officer replied, "Yes, I have a warning for you: I warn you to flee from the wrath to come." This unexpected reply proved an arrow from the Lord's quiver; and to it the young man ascribes his conversion.
People often ignore clear danger, falsely believing things will last longer than they will.
A Swiss traveller describes a village situated on the slope of a great mountain, of which the strata shelve in the direction of the place. Huge crags directly overhanging the village, and massive enough to sweep the whole of it into the torrent below, have become separated from the main body of the mountain by great fissures, and now scarcely adhere to it. When they give way, the village must perish; and the catastrophe may happen any day. For years past, engineers have been sent to measure the width of the fissures; and report them constantly increasing. The villagers, for more than one generation, have been aware of their danger; subscriptions have been once or twice opened to enable them to remove: yet they live on in their doomed dwellings from year to year, fortified against the ultimate certainty and daily probability of destruction by the common sentiment, "Things may last their time, and longer."
Those who delay responding to God's call risk missing pardon and facing judgment.
There is a story, told in ancient history of a certain king who lighted a lamp, and had it hung in his palace: be then sent heralds forth to bring every criminal and rebel to his presence, that they might obtain pardon. Those who came while the lamp was burning were set free; but those who delayed till the lamp had gone out, or who altogether neglected the invitation, met with a terrible death.
Ignoring timely warnings about repentance can lead to sudden death and eternal regret.
A Christian mother warned her pleasure-loving daughter of her danger, as she was preparing for a ball. She replied, "Time enough yet for me to attend to religion." Two weeks after, she was suddenly stricken down, and died in a few hours, exclaiming, "Oh that all young people were present, that I might warn them not to do as I have done! I am going to receive my everlasting fate. I am going to dwell with devils."
Avoiding the hard path of faith leads to destruction through easier, deceptive routes.
Formality and Hypocrisy came also with Christian to the foot of the hill; but when they saw that the hill was steep and high, and that there were two other ways to go,—and supposing also that these two ways might meet again with that up which Christian went, on the other side of the hill,—therefore they were resolved to go in those ways. Now, the name of one of those ways was Danger, and the name of the other Destruction. So the one took the way which is called Danger, which led him into a great wood; and the other took directly up the way to Destruction, which led him into a wide field full of dark mountains, where he stumbled and fell, and rose no more. Bunyan.
Staying on the path of duty prevents spiritual wandering and danger.
Old Humphrey has a good paper against wandering from the path of duty, suggested by a notice at the entrance of a park: "Take notice. In walking through these grounds, you are requested to keep the footpath." Bunyan has supplied the same theme for solemn warning, in the pilgrim straying into By-path Meadow. Bowes.
Small errors can lead believers into destructive spiritual whirlpools beyond control.
Let us beware of the first wrong direction of thought and feeling; however minute the degree, fearful may be the after-deviations. The voyager enters a current which seems propitious; there is no apparent diversion from his course; his bark speeds well; his oar does not toil, nor his sail strain; in his confidence, all promises success.
But, while he examines, scarcely does it seem that he has advanced. Much again and again reminds him of what he has noticed just before. A strange familiarity impresses his sense. Still, current flows into current; while onward and buoyant is his track. Soon he feels an unnatural vibration. Where he glided, he now whirls along. The truth seizes upon him: he is sweeping a whirlpool. Long since, he has entered the verge of a maelstrom, and he is now the sport of its gyrations. No power is left his helm or mast; he is the trembling, unresisting prey. He hears the roar; he is drawn into the suck of the vortex. Not only the circle lessens, the very surface slopes; the central funnel and abyss, dark-heaving, smooth, vitreous, yawns. The mariner shrieks, the skiff is swallowed up, where the waters only separate to close, where the outermost attraction was but the minister to the famine of this devouring maw. Dr. R. W. Hamilton.
Drunkenness leads to foolish and dangerous situations despite temporary comfort.
Three Irishmen, who had drunk pretty freely of whiskey at a tavern in Dublin, were loud in their praise of its virtues as they reeled along the banks of the Liffey. One of them had just declared that whiskey was meat and drink to a man; when his foot slipped, and he fell into the river. "There, Pat," said one of his friends, "you are fully provided for: you had meat and drink, and you now have got washing and lodging." Percy.
A drunken man’s failed attempt to harm a cow sobered him permanently.
An eccentric old clergyman said, that, the first time he was intoxicated, he took a hand-sled and ascended a high hill, to have a good slide over the snow. At the bottom, he saw a cow lying down, and thought to himself that he could hit that cow as easy as not, and knock her into a thousand pieces. He struck the cow, just as he intended; but, instead of demolishing her, it came near knocking him into nonentity. It sobered him effectually; and he has never been drunk since.
Mistaking a false light leads to destruction, illustrating the need for spiritual discernment.
A splendid new ship, with a rich cargo and large company of passengers, was wrecked on the Irish coast. Every precaution was taken; but a light appeared which was not noted on the chart, which the captain mistook for one that was there. Instead of running out to sea, as he supposed, they were rushing upon the rocks.
Rejecting the light leads to spiritual ruin, like a woman lost in darkness and storm.
I once happened to be on a visit to a great castle situate on the top of a hill. There was a steep cliff, at the bottom of which was a rapid river. Late one night, there was a person anxious to get home from that castle, in the midst of a thunderstorm. The night was blackness itself. The woman was asked to stop till the storm was over; but she declined: next they begged her to take a lantern, that she might be able to keep upon the road from the castle to her home. She said she did not require a lantern, but could do very well without one. She went. Perhaps she was frightened by the storm (I know not the cause); but in the midst of the darkness she wandered from the path, and fell over the cliff: the next day that swollen river washed to the shore the poor lifeless body of this foolish woman. Bp. Villiers.
Missing the right path near the goal can lead to fatal consequences.
A young lady lost her life near the summit of Mt. Washington, only a few feet from the path, and only a few rods from the "Tip-Top House." In the fog, she missed her way, and perished when almost at the place of rest she sought.
Ministers must warn sinners now of their danger before it's too late.
There was a foolish law among the Lacademonians, that none should tell his neighbor any ill news be fallen him; but every one should be left to find it out for himself. There are many that would be glad if there were a law that would tie up ministers' mouths from scaring them with their sins. Most are more careful to run from the discourse of their misery than to get out of the danger of it; are more offended with the talk of hell than troubled for that sinful state that shall bring them thither. But, alas! when, then, shall ministers have a fitting time to tell sinners of their danger, if not now? Hereafter there remain no more offices of love to be done for them. Hell is a pest-house: there cannot be written so much on the door of it, as, "Lord, have mercy on them that are in it."
Seeing death led Walden to repent and preach, showing the value of heeding warnings.
Walden, a merchant of Lyons, seeing one drop down dead in the streets, went home and repented, changed his life, and became a preacher, and was the father and the founder of the people called Waldenses. 'Tis good to take warning by others' harms, and, by the sight of their death, to look after our own life. Venning.
Ignoring a warning about rising tides led a traveler to be trapped, illustrating judgment.
A traveller who was pursuing his journey on the Scotch coast was thoughtlessly induced to take the road by the sands as the most agreeable. This road, which was safe only at low tides, lay on the beach between the sea and the lofty cliffs which bound the coast. Pleased with the view of the inrolling waves on the one hand, and the abrupt and precipitous rocks on the other, he loitered on the way, unmindful of the sea, which was gradually encroaching upon the intervening sands. A man, observing from the lofty cliffs the danger he was incurring, benevolently descended, and, arresting his attention by a loud halloo, warned him not to proceed. "If you pass this spot, you lose your last chance of escape. The tides are rising. They have already covered the road you have passed, and they are near the foot of the cliffs before you; and by this ascent alone you can escape." The traveller disregarded the warning. He felt sure he could make the turn in the coast in good time, and, leaving his volunteer guide, he went more rapidly on his way. Soon, however, he discovered the real danger of his position. His onward journey was arrested by the sea. He turned in haste; but, to his amazement, he found that the rising waters had cut off his retreat. He looked up to the cliffs; but they were inaccessible. The waters were already at his feet. He sought higher ground, but was soon driven off. His last refuge was a projecting rock; but the relentless waters rose higher and higher; they reached him; they arose to his neck: he uttered a despairing shriek for help, and no help was near, as he had neglected his last opportunity for escape. The sea closed over; and it was the closing-in upon him of the night of death. Biblical Treasury.
Warnings must be given before danger strikes, emphasizing urgency in salvation.
Warn the boatman before he enters the current; and then, if he is swept down the rapids, he destroys himself. Warn the man before he drinks the cup of poison: tell him it is deadly; and then, if he drinks it, his death lies at his own door. And so, let us warn you before you depart this life; let us preach to you while as yet your bones are full of marrow, and the sinews of your joints are not loosed. Spurgeon.
Removing warnings leads to disaster, showing the importance of heeding God's alerts.
There is a story which tells of a bell which was suspended on a rock of the ocean dangerous to navigation. The waves of the ocean, beating upon it, caused it to give a noise of warning to keep off the approaching mariner. It is said, that, at one time, some pirates destroyed the bell to prevent the warning. Not long after, these very pirates struck upon this rock, and were lost. How many there are who take pains to hush or remove the voice of warning coming forth from the point of danger, who, as soon as the warning ceases, founder upon the rock of temptation, and are lost forever! Dr. McCosh.
Wealth can dangerously lead one away from God without awareness of the risk.
Mr. Cecil had a rich hearer, who, when a young man had solicited his advice, but who had not, for some time, had an interview with him. Mr. C. one day went to his house on horseback, being unable to walk, and, after the usual salutations, addressed him thus:—"I understand you are very dangerously situated!" Here he paused, and his friend replied, "I am not aware of it, sir." "I thought it was probable you were not; and therefore I have called on you. I hear you are getting rich; take care, for it is the road by which
### 375. RII
If Universalism is true, the preacher is unnecessary; if false, he is unwanted.
Mr. W., a Universalist, preaching at the village of M—, where a large congregation had come out to hear something new, endeavored to convince his hearers that there is no punishment after death. At the close of his sermon, he informed the people, that if they wished, he would preach there again in four weeks; when Mr. C., a respectable merchant, rose, and replied, "Sir, if your doctrine is true, we do not need you; and if it is false, we do not want you."
A Universalist leader fails to convince a doctor who rejects Universalism despite debate.
Dr. Harris, of Dunbarton, walking out one day in one of the large villages of a neighboring State, he met one of the champions of Universalism. It was Gen. P—, the leader and main supporter of the large Universalist society, which had for many years existed in that place. He was a high-minded man, quite wealthy, and very influential—having a good deal of general information, and considerable skill in argument—which last he did not hesitate to use whenever and wherever opportunities were presented. He and Dr. H. were personally strangers;
but knowing something of each other by reputation, they readily introduced themselves. The General very soon lifted up his standard, and began his war of words—not doubting that, though he might fail to convince his opponent, he should at least show him that he was no ordinary combatant: but knew well on what ground he stood and how to wield the sword of sectarian warfare to good advantage. The Doctor heard him through: then calmly turned to him, and said—"General P— it is of no use for us to contend. We shall probably not convince each other, by arguments ever so protracted. But there is one thing in relation to this matter which deserves consideration.
It is this. I can treat your religion just as I please, I can turn from it, as an utter abomination; I can despise it;
I can spit on it, and trample it under my feet—and yet after all I SHALL BE
SAVED—shu'n't I, Gen. P—!" The
General, of course, was obliged to assent, or give up the doctrine. There was no room for evasion. "But," added the Doctor, while the General was writhing at the contempt thus thrown upon his gods, "it will not do for you to treat my religion so. If you do, you
ARE A LOST MAN!" This was enough—
nothing more was said.
An infidel accuses Universalists of inconsistent Bible use and affirms the reality of hell.
An infidel in the town of C., Allegany
Co., N. Y., meeting one day with a
Universalist, addressed him in a strain like the following. "You Universalists are the most inconsistent theorists in the world. You say there is no future punishment, and yet you profess to believe the Bible, and, what is more absurd, attempt to prove your doctrine from the
Bible! You stretch out one passage interminably, and cut another short off;
you pull connected sentences apart, and put disconnected sentences together;
and you set prophets at war with prophets, apostles at war with apostles, and each one at war with himself. As sure as your Bible is true, so surely there is a hell. For my own part, I do not believe there is a hell any more than yourself; but, more consistent, I throw the doctrine of future punishment out of my creed, by first throwing out the Bible itself. And there is no other way to appear consistent. Get clear of that old book, and then you can easily get rid of the rest."
A Universalist preacher says after death you go where you want, causing audience laughter and dismissal.
About the year 1823, a celebrated Universalist preached in the court-house at New-Haven, Ct., and at the close of his sermon had some disputation with a clergyman of the city. After hearing the debate awhile, one of the audience took the liberty to ask the following questions:—"Reverend sir, is it our duty to believe in the salvation of all men?" "Yes," answered the preacher. Said the other, "Where shall we go when we die if we do not believe it?" "Go where you have a mind to!" said the preacher. This powerfully affected the risible feelings of the audience, and broke up the meeting.
#### 426. Death of Universalists.
