p. 111 | An Exhortation by J. Q. Foy

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Mar 21, 1871

An Exhortation.

By J. Q. Foy

It is a fact much to be regretted, that on occasions when God's servants have a special burden for the young, and also for backsliders, and earnest appeals are being made, indited, and sent home, by the Holy Spirit, that there are generally those who seem to be affected, and who, with those who are sincerely inquiring the way to Zion, manifest a desire to be Christians, whose hearts are not in the work, and who, perhaps, have not considered the important step that they are taking. There may be those also who have often listened to similar appeals, and perhaps as often expressed in a similar manner their interest in the matter; but not having made a full surrender, they have, by refusing to do their duty, grieved the Holy Spirit, thus wounding their own consciences, and now feel just enough to cause them to participate in the good and holy work for the present, only to mar and hinder it afterward by continuing their former course. This fact, deplorable and terrible in its consequences as it is, cannot, perhaps, be avoided. It is Satan's business to hinder the work of God, and to ruin souls; and he will make use of any and every means to effect his purpose. Perhaps none are more efficient than this. But woe to those who continue thus to aid him in his unholy work.

Dear young friend, be not thus deceived by the great enemy of your souls, nor be thus beguiled into his service. The broad road is not the way to Heaven. The way thither is a “narrow road—a rugged, thorny maze.” The carnal heart does not love it, nor can it by any means be induced to follow in it. Take Jesus for your pattern. Follow no others, only so far as they follow him, no matter how pious they may appear. Strictly follow out your convictions of duty, earnestly seeking God for a true knowledge of your own heart, and of his will concerning you. Do not dare to vary in the least from his requirements. God is long-suffering, but will not be trifled with. He is infinite in mercy, and so long as we are striving to walk humbly and carefully before him, will bear with our failures; but it will not do to presume upon his mercy. “Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him. For he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust.”

Do not stop to parley with the devil. Does he tell you that you are a great sinner? Admit it. Does he suggest that the blood of Christ is not sufficient? Remember the promise: “Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool; If ye be willing and obedient, ye shall eat the good of the land; . . . for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.” Isa. 1: 18–20. Compare, or rather contrast, this short, fleeting life with that which is to come; count the cost. Settle it in your mind which you will have. Decide that you will have eternal life, even at the expense of this, and let it be a final choice. To remain undecided will leave you more exposed to temptation. However strong your attachment to the vanities and pleasures of the world, bid them farewell forever. However painful and laborious the work of subduing the carnal heart, make up your mind it shall be done, and set about the work in earnest, relying upon God for strength. Consider it a case of life and death, and resolve never to yield while there is the least ray of hope. By yielding to little sins, you grieve the Spirit of God from you, and thus are left an easy prey to the enemy; while by bearing little crosses and performing little duties, you are strengthened for future conflicts.

When tempted to think the way too straight, or the cross too heavy, go, in your imagination, to Gethsemane, to the judgment-hall, or to Calvary. Consider at what immense cost redemption was purchased for you. Who, in view of such scenes, would wish, or even consent, to have Heaven without making any sacrifice to obtain it? It would be no Heaven to such. The very nature of the case demands that if we would reign with Christ, we must also suffer with him.

“Ne’er think the victory won, Nor lay thine armor down; Thy arduous task will not be done Till thou obtain the crown.”

Religion is that without which mortals cannot be truly happy.

It is the very essence of all goodness and true blessedness. The name, when properly defined and applied to those principles inculcated by the word of God, is itself a synonym for happiness. To the true Christian, even in his darkest hours, when the hand of affliction is laid heavily upon him, religion affords that comfort and peace which the world can neither give nor take away, and compared with which the best that this world can afford is as the shadow to the substance. Yes, to say nothing of the future bliss and glory in reserve for the Christian, to be enjoyed to all eternity, the comfort and satisfaction which the hope of these gives even in this life amply repay for all the sacrifice and self-denial they cost, and especially when we consider that we are required to sacrifice only that which would be an injury to us if persisted in. The path of duty is the only sure way to happiness; and the reason why so few of all the professed followers of Christ are able to testify to the sweets of religion, is that they have so little of it. Then why hesitate? Oh! why, unless it be that a spell from Satan be upon us? Oh! that we might be made to realize our danger, while there is hope that it may be averted. We have been warned that a fearful time is just before us. Why not make a preparation? It is an individual work. That others are without a shelter, will make our case none the better.

“Each in his lot must singly stand, And pass the final, searching test.”

God grant that we may lay up a good foundation against the time to come, that, when the toils and trials and sorrows of earth are ended, and the ransomed of the Lord shall come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads, we may be among them. J. Q. FOY. Battle Creek, Mich.