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The Password

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Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Feb 13, 1872

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 39, No. 9.

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The Password.

ONE day, having to go down to St. Katharine’s Docks from the city, I thought I should save a little journey by going through the Tower of London. So I entered the gates at the west end, and walked along some little distance, passing through archways, and over draw-bridges, till at last I approached the high wall that runs along the eastern boundary of the Tower precincts. The place where I had to go, was only just the other side of this wall, and I had but to pass through the gateway before me, and I should arrive at my destination. But at this gateway I found a policeman stationed, who opened and shut the door as the people passed to and fro; and I noticed that he spoke to each person, as he came up, before he let him through.
On coming up to the gateway, the policeman stopped me and thus accosted me: “The password, if you please, sir.” “The password? I have no password to give you,” I replied. “Then I cannot allow you to pass,” said he. “But my business is urgent, and I have but to go to these docks; you’ll let me pass surely?” “No, sir, I can not.” I tried to persuade him, but he was inflexible. “It is more than my place is worth,” said he; “I dare not let any one through without the password.”
Seeing that all expostulation was useless, I turned round with no other alternative than that of going all the way back, and walking round—altogether a walk of some distance. As I returned, my mortification was not a little increased at seeing others coming up, and on giving the password, at once allowed to go through.
In this simple incident, what an illustration we have, thought I, of another journey, and the gateway at the entrance of the Heavenly City!
How important that we should know the password!
Let us try to picture the scene. The gate is guarded, people are coming to seek for admittance. Here is one who, with confident step, marches up to the gate, and loudly knocking, demands an entrance. The password is required. “Oh,” says he, “don’t you know who I am? why, I am well known as a man of generosity. I have made good use of my wealth in relieving distress, promoting the cause of religion, and establishing churches. And, thank God, I can say, I have never offended either against the laws of my country, or the commands of my God. I am not one of those who have sunk in sin. So open the gates, and let me enter.”
But the answer is—“The gates can not be opened, as you have not given the password.”
Then up comes another. He is not so respectable a man as the former. “No,” says he, “I can not justify myself for I am a sinner indeed, my soul is guilty, and I have no good works to bring; but I’ve repented of my sins: behold my tears, my sighs, my groans, my prayers! Oh, sir, are not these enough to gain for me an entrance into the celestial city.”
Ah! the gates are still fast closed, because he can not give the password.
But look again. There is one coming with trembling step and eyes cast down—he is afraid almost to approach the gate. At last he gives a gentle rap. It is asked, “Who art thou?” “I’m a poor, undone sinner,” saith he; “I come for mercy.” “What is your plea? Do you know the password?” “JESUS ONLY,” cries the penitent. And no sooner do the words escape his lips, than the portals fly open, and ten thousand voices fill the air, “Come in, come in, dear soul, thrice welcome!”
Thus it is, dear reader; until we have been enabled to say from our inmost soul, “Jesus only,” we have not yet learned “Heaven’s password.” It is not merely taking these words upon our lips, or even having a head knowledge of the fact that Jesus only can save the soul, that will admit us into Heaven; but it is a real heart-felt experience of the truth, that we, as sinners, can do nothing, either to cleanse from sin, or to clothe with righteousness; but that for all this we must trust in “JESUS ONLY.”