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The Cleansing Blood

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Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Apr 7, 1909

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 36, No. 14.

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The Cleansing Blood

By Mrs. L. D. Avery-Suttle

By Mrs. L. D. Avery-Suttle
Once in the deep and solemn night A vision passed before my sight: The gates of heaven stood ajar, And through the blazing skies afar, Swift toward the shining, heavenly dome, Bright legions bore earth’s ransomed home.
At length, the while I stood amazed, As ’mong the white-robed throng I gazed, I saw one I had known on earth,— A puny cripple from his birth,— To whom I spake: “I scarce did know Thy face and form of long ago. For once thy face was lined with care, Thy head was crowned with silvery hair, Thy body bent, until I trow It scarce can be the same as now. For now, how beautiful is thy face, Right regal is thy form of grace, No longer bent, no longer bowed— Art thou the same?” I cried aloud.
“The same,” he said, “but glorified; One drop of BLOOD from Him who died Upon Mount Calvary’s rugged side— One drop of BLOOD hath cleansed my soul, And made my new-born body whole.”
And then, methought, aloud he sung Till heaven’s echoing arches rung.
Then, ’mong the rest, one passed me by,— I knew him by his shining eye. “What! art thou here in this fair land Where all is innocent and pure? I knew thee when to touch thy hand Was more than Virtue could endure. I knew thee when the very smile Upon thy sensual lip was vile. I knew thee when thy father wept, And thy poor mother plead in vain; Pray tell me; hast thou found a Cure To purge away thy soul’s dark stain?”
Quick made he answer, while his face Grew fair with heaven’s celestial light, His words were few but full of grace, His kindling eye with love was bright: “Praise ye the Lord!” he joyful said, For Christ hath healed my sin-sick soul,— Hath poured upon my guilty head The cleansing BLOOD which maketh whole.”
And then the angels round the throne Brake out anew with joyful voice: “All worthy is the Lamb alone, Let all the universe rejoice.”
Another passed. “What! art thou here!” Again I asked in accents clear. “I knew thee many, many years Within the earthland, full of tears, I knew thee, friend, when thou wast bound By the red, poisonous cup of hell. When howling demons compassed round— Thy low estate no man might tell. And thou didst struggle, oft, in vain; Thou could’st not break the accursed chain.
“Yet here thou art in this fair land, No demons now about thy head, No cup of death is in thy hand,— Thou hold’st a harp of gold instead. Who sought thee in thy low estate And brought thee e’en to heaven’s gate?”
With bated breath and wondering eye I listened while he made reply: “Emmanuel hath saved my soul, Tho overwhelmed by sins’ dark flood; My wounds and bruises made He whole, And washed me in His precious BLOOD. I know not why He cleansed my soul, I know not how He made me whole, I know not why; but this I ween; Because He loves me, I AM CLEAN!”
Another passed. “I, too, am here!” He cried in accents low and clear: “Ah, once when I was sick with sin, I heard Him call my humble name, Quick made I answer: ‘Lord, come in, For I am sick and bruised and lame.’
“The dews of night were on His head, Indeed, I could not say Him nay, His blessed feet were pierced and bled, For He had sought me night and day, I know not why He cleansed my soul, I know not how He made me whole, I know not why; but this I ween: Because he loves, I am clean!”
Then heavenly music, sweet and long, Rolled up from that redeemed throng, And every creature heard I sing, In heaven and earth and in the sea, Till whirling suns with praise did ring For Him who died on Calvary: “Ye gates of pearl, wide open fling,— Welcome Emmanuel, our King.”