By William Booth (1829-1912)
On one of my recent journeys, as I gazed from the coach window, I
was led into a train of thought concerning the condition of the
multitudes around me. They were living carelessly in the most open
and shameless rebellion against God, without a thought for their
eternal welfare. As I looked out of the window, I seemed to see them
all . . . millions of people all around me given up to their drink
and their pleasure, their dancing and their music, their business
and their anxieties, their politics and their troubles. Ignorant -
willfully ignorant in many cases - and in other instances knowing
all about the truth and not caring at all. But all of them, the
whole mass of them, sweeping on and up in their blasphemies and
devilries to the Throne of God. While my mind was thus engaged, I
had a vision.
I saw a dark and stormy ocean. Over it the black clouds hung
heavily; through them every now and then vivid lightening flashed
and loud thunder rolled, while the winds moaned, and the waves rose
and foamed, towered and broke, only to rise and foam, tower and
break again.
In that ocean I thought I saw myriads of poor human beings plunging
and floating, shouting and shrieking, cursing and struggling and
drowning; and as they cursed and screamed they rose and shrieked
again, and then some sank to rise no more.
And I saw out of this dark angry ocean, a mighty rock that rose up
with it’s summit towering high above the black clouds that overhung
the stormy sea. And all around the base of this great rock I saw a
vast platform. Onto this platform, I saw with delight a number of
the poor struggling, drowning wretches continually climbing out of
the angry ocean. And I saw that a few of those who were already safe
on the platform were helping the poor creatures still in the angry
waters to reach the place of safety.
On looking more closely I found a number of those who had been
rescued, industriously working and scheming by ladders, ropes, boats
and other means more effective, to deliver the poor strugglers out
of the sea. Here and there were some who actually jumped into the
water, regardless of the consequences in their passion to "rescue
the perishing." And I hardly know which gladdened me the most - the
sight of the poor drowning people climbing onto the rocks reaching a
place of safety, or the devotion and self-sacrifice of those whose
whole being was wrapped up in the effort for their deliverance.
As I looked on, I saw that the occupants of that platform were quite
a mixed company. That is, they were divided into different "sets" or
classes, and they occupied themselves with different pleasures and
employments. But only a very few of them seemed to make it their
business to get the people out of the sea.
But what puzzled me most was the fact that though all of them had
been rescued at one time or another from the ocean, nearly everyone
seemed to have forgotten all about it. Anyway, it seemed the memory
of its darkness and danger no longer troubled them at all. And what
seemed equally strange and perplexing to me was that these people
did not even seem to have any care - that is any agonizing care -
about the poor perishing ones who were struggling and drowning right
before their very eyes . . . many of whom were their own husbands
and wives, brothers and sisters and even their own children.
Now this astonishing unconcern could not have been the result of
ignorance or lack of knowledge, because they lived right there in
full sight of it all and even talked about it sometimes. Many even
went regularly to hear lectures and sermons in which the awful state
of these poor drowning creatures was described.
I have always said that the occupants of this platform were engaged
in different pursuits and pastimes. Some of them were absorbed day
and night in trading and business in order to make gain, storing up
their savings in boxes, safes and the like.
Many spent their time in amusing themselves with growing flowers on
the side of the rock, others in painting pieces of cloth or in
playing music, or in dressing themselves up in different styles and
walking about to be admired. Some occupied themselves chiefly in
eating and drinking, others were taken up with arguing about the
poor drowning creatures that had already been rescued.
But the thing to me that seemed the most amazing was that those on
the platform to whom He called, who heard His voice and felt that
they ought to obey it - at least they said they did - those who
confessed to love Him much were in full sympathy with Him in the
task He had undertaken - who worshipped Him or who professed to do
so - were so taken up with their trades and professions, their money
saving and pleasures, their families and circles, their religions
and arguments about it, and their preparation for going to the
mainland, that they did not listen to the cry that came to them from
this Wonderful Being who had Himself gone down into the sea. Anyway,
if they heard it they did not heed it. They did not care. And so the
multitude went on right before them struggling and shrieking and
drowning in the darkness.
And then I saw something that seemed to me even more strange than
anything that had gone on before in this strange vision. I saw that
some of these people on the platform whom this Wonderful Being had
called to, wanting them to come and help Him in His difficult task
of saving these perishing creatures, were always praying and crying
out to Him to come to
them!
Some wanted Him to come and stay with them, and spend His time and
strength in making them happier. Others wanted Him to come and take
away various doubts and misgivings they had concerning the truth of
some letters He had written them. Some wanted Him to come and make
them feel more secure on the rock - so secure that they would be
quite sure that they should never slip off again into the ocean.
Numbers of others wanted Him to make them feel quite certain that
they would really get off the rock and onto the mainland someday:
because as a matter of fact, it was well known that some had walked
so carelessly as to loose their footing, and had fallen back again
into the stormy waters.
So these people used to meet and get up as high on the rock as they
could, and looking towards the mainland (where they thought the
Great Being was) they would cry out, "Come to us! Come and help us!"
And all the while He was down (by His Spirit) among the poor
struggling, drowning creatures in the angry deep, with His arms
around them trying to drag them out, and looking up - oh! so
longingly but all in vain - to those on the rock, crying to them
with His voice all hoarse from calling, "Come to Me! Come,
and help Me!
And then I understood it all. It was plain enough. The sea was the
ocean of life - the sea of real, actual human existence. That
lightening was the gleaming of piercing truth coming from Jehovah’s
Throne. That thunder was the distant echoing of the wrath of God.
Those multitudes of people shrieking, struggling and agonizing in
the stormy sea, was the thousands and thousands of poor harlots and
harlot-makers, of drunkards and drunkard makers, of thieves, liars,
blasphemers and ungodly people of every kindred, tongue and nation.
Oh what a black sea it was! And oh, what multitudes of rich and
poor, ignorant and educated were there. They were all so unalike in
their outward circumstances and conditions, yet all alike in one
thing - all sinners before God - all held by, and holding onto, some
iniquity, fascinated by some idol, the slaves of some devilish lust,
and ruled by the foul fiend from the bottomless pit!
"All alike in one thing?" No, all alike in two
things - not only the
same in their wickedness but, unless rescued, the same in their
sinking, sinking . . . down, down, down . . . to the same terrible
doom. That great sheltering rock represented Calvary, the place
where Jesus had died for them. And the people on it were those who
had been rescued. The way they used their energies, gifts and time
represented the occupations and amusements of those who professed to
be saved from sin and hell - followers of the Lord Jesus Christ. The
handful of fierce, determined ones, who were risking their own lives
in saving the perishing were true soldiers of the cross of Jesus.
That Mighty Being who was calling to them from the midst of the
angry waters was the Son of God, "the same yesterday, today and
forever" who is still struggling and interceding to save the dying
multitudes about us from this terrible doom of damnation, and whose
voice can be heard above the music, machinery, and noise of life,
calling on the rescued to come and help Him save the world.
My friends in Christ, you are rescued from the waters, you are on
the rock, He is in the dark sea calling on you to come to Him and
help Him. Will you go? Look for yourselves. The surging sea of life,
crowded with perishing multitudes rolls up to the very spot on which
you stand. Leaving the vision, I now come to speak of the fact - a
fact that is as real as the Bible, as real as the Christ who hung
upon the cross, as real as the judgment day will be, and as real as
the heaven and hell that will follow it.
Look! Don’t be deceived by appearances - men and things are not what
they seem. All who are
not on the rock are in the sea! Look
at them from the standpoint of the great White Throne, and what a
sight you have! Jesus Christ, the Son of God is, through His Spirit,
in the midst of this dying multitude, struggling to save them. And
He is calling on you to
jump into the sea - to go right away to His side and help Him in the
holy strife. Will you jump? That is, will you go to His feet and
place yourself absolutely at His disposal?
A young Christian once came to me, and told me that for some time
she had been giving the Lord her profession and prayers and money,
but now she wanted to give Him her life. She wanted to go right into
the fight. In other words, she wanted to go to His assistance in the
sea. As when a man from the shore, seeing another struggling in the
water, takes off those outer garments that would hinder his efforts
and leaps to the rescue, so will you who still linger on the bank,
thinking and singing and praying about the poor perishing souls, lay
aside your shame, your pride, your cares about other people’s
opinions, your love of ease and all the selfish loves that have kept
you back for so long, and rush to the rescue of this multitude of
dying men and women.
Does the surging sea look dark and dangerous? Unquestionably it is
so. There is no doubt that the leap for you, as for everyone who
takes it, means difficulty and scorn and suffering. For you it may
mean more than this. It may mean death. He who beckons you from the
sea however, knows what it will mean - and knowing, He still calls
to you and bids to you to come.
You must do it! You cannot hold back. You have enjoyed yourself in
Christianity long enough. You have had pleasant feelings, pleasant
songs, pleasant meetings, pleasant prospects. There has been much of
human happiness, much clapping of hands and shouting of praises -
very much of heaven on earth.
Now then, go to God and tell Him you are prepared as much as
necessary to turn your back upon it all, and that you are willing to
spend the rest of your days struggling in the midst of these
perishing multitudes, whatever it may cost you.
You must do
it. With the light that is now broken in upon your mind and the call
that is now sounding in your ears, and the beckoning hands that are
now before your eyes, you have no alternative. To go down among the
perishing crowds is your duty. Your happiness from now on will
consist in sharing their misery, your ease in sharing their pain,
your crown in helping them to bear their cross, and your heaven in
going into the very jaws of hell to rescue them.
Now what will you do?
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