Hark! universal nature shook and groan'd, 'Twas the last trumpet--see the Judge enthroned: Rouse all your courage at your utmost need, Now summon every virtue, stand and plead. What! silent? Is your boasting heard no more? That self-renouncing wisdom, learn'd before, Had shed immortal glories on your brow, That all your virtues cannot purchase now. All joy to the believer! He can speak, Trembling yet happy, confident yet meek. Since the dear hour that brought me to Thy foot, And cut up all my follies by the root, I never trusted in an arm but Thine, Nor hoped but in Thy righteousness divine: My prayers and alms, imperfect and defiled, Were but the feeble efforts of a child; Howe'er perform'd, it was their brightest part, That they proceeded from a grateful heart: Cleansed in Thine own all purifying blood, Forgive their evil, and accept their good: I cast them at Thy feet, my only plea Is what it was, dependence upon Thee: While struggling in the vale of tears below, That never failed, nor shall it fail me now. Angelic gratulations rend the skies, Pride falls unpitied never more to rise, Humility is crown'd, and Faith receives the prize.
"Wherefore I say unto thee, Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much: but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little."--Luke vii. 47.
It has been observed that the Bible records with great minuteness events which a secular historian would deem beneath his notice, whilst, on the other hand, matters of great secular importance are passed over unmentioned. What ordinary historian would think of narrating such a story as the one we have in the verses before us? The Bible records it because it is a history of souls. To a Bible historian, the conversion of a soul is an event of unique sublimity, and everything that can illustrate it is felt to be a source of deepest interest. The history of outward events will pass into oblivion; the history of souls will be read in eternity.
The narrative before us is one of the most beautiful and touching in the gospel record. It was a saying of Gregory the Great: "Whenever I think of this story I am more inclined to weep over it than to preach upon it." It is just the tale to prompt deep, quiet feeling rather than elaborate disquisition. It contains an illustration in real life of the old promise: "A bruised reed shall He not break, and the smoking flax shall He not quench." It declares the Saviour's matchless sympathy for the sinner, and the most broken-hearted sinner's hope in Him. It teaches these lessons for all time, since in Christ and in His system of Redemption there can be no change. Let us look at the narrative somewhat closely, and may God help us to see in it Christ as the refuge of the lost, and the thankfulness to Him which must possess the soul whom He has saved. When we have said all we can, there will yet remain much more to be felt.