The Value of a Soul by G. B. Thompson

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Aug 12, 1915

The Value of a Soul

By G. B. Thompson

In endeavoring to express the love of God as revealed in the gospel, one of the greatest of Christian hymns says:—

“Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were a tribute far too small; Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my life, my soul, my all.”

I do not know that the poet fully understood all that his words express, yet they are true nevertheless. The “whole realm of nature” is a “tribute far too small” to give in exchange for the love of God in saving fallen man. Such a love, the poet says, demands more

this, demands what is of infinitely more value than the “whole realm of nature,” even “my life, my soul, my all.” Is this greater?—Yes, indeed. Is a native digging in the diamond mines of South Africa of more value than the gems which he uncovers? Is a poor degraded soul, the victim of lust and intemperance,—a member of the gutter population of some city, drawn down by the environments of sin and temptation about him,—of more value than all the stars, and suns of the universe, which circle in space? The telescope reveals millions of starry worlds circling in their orbits, and a photographic plate reveals unnumbered millions more. Is a lost soul redeemed worth more than all these? The poet has inferred this much, and what he says is in harmony with Holy Writ.

The psalmist, viewing the vastness of creation’s realms, exclaimed, “When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; what is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him?” Ps. 8: 3, 4. A soul saved in the kingdom of God is worth all his salvation cost. The universe was not of sufficient value to redeem him. All the gold and precious stones, even the gold and pearls of the eternal city, would be a “tribute far too small.” It took the crimson tide which flowed from Calvary to save him.

Tennyson, looking at man, so small in comparison with a boundless universe, was staggered with doubt as to his value. After speaking of all man has accomplished in science and art, through war, politics, and various activities, the poet said:—

“What is it all but the murmur of gnats In the gleam of a million million suns?”

Aside from Christ, man is of no value, it is true. Nations are but as the dust in the balance. But he who lays hold by faith on the eternal riches, who believes to the saving of the soul, will shine as the stars forever and ever. Had there been but one soul that would have believed in Jesus and been saved in the kingdom as the result of his suffering and death, he would have paid the price just the same, and seen of the travail of his soul and been satisfied.

Truly, to save a soul is of infinitely more value than to win a world, yea, many worlds. What a mighty incentive is this, not only to be saved ourselves, but to be the instrument in the hand of God to save others in the kingdom.

G. B. THOMPSON.