The Spirit and the Bride Say, Come.
By N. Orcutt
“And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take of the water of life freely.” Rev. 22:17. As broad as the remedial system instituted for fallen man, are the invitations of the gospel of Christ. During the brief years of his public ministry, from his lips were heard the gracious words: “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” “If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink.” When he had finished his labors as a teacher, he ascended to his Father, to officiate as a minister of the sanctuary, and of the true tabernacle, which the Lord pitched, and not man; leaving other agencies to carry forward the work, upon earth, which he had begun. Since then, the Spirit extends the gathering call, addressing no particular class; the invitation is to all. A feast has been prepared, a provision made as boundless as the wants of those addressed. “The Spirit and the bride say, Come.” Not only the Spirit—the Comforter—extends to the erring, who have strayed from the fold, the gracious invitation; but the bride also says, Come. The bride—the New Jerusalem—allures by her charms, her beauty, her glory—her gates of pearl, her streets of gold, her foundations of precious stones; by her heavenly society—the company of the good and pure, and the angelic host; by the presence of the great God, in majesty enthroned, and of the Lamb, not seen in humble guise, a homeless wanderer, as when he came to earth to do, to suffer, and to die, to provide the rich feast to which all are so freely bidden, but as a conquering king, the proper object of universal praise and adoration, from every intelligent creature in a clean universe; by the “pure river of the water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb; by the tree of life, in the midst of the street, with its twelve manner of fruits, gathered every month, with its healing leaves for the nations of the saved. No night, no sorrow, no curse, no death there! Exempt from all that could hinder the felicity of those who gather to partake of the wedding feast, possessing the combination of all possible attractions, all joining to extend the cordial invitation of the Master of assemblies: Come and partake of the fruit of life's fair tree. Come drink of life's healing stream. Come and see the King in his beauty. Come and find rest. “And let him that heareth say, Come.” Many that have heard are obeying this injunction. With Abraham, the father of the faithful, they look “for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God.” And as they press forward to taste its joys, to share its glories, enjoying, as they journey, the earnest, the foretaste, they speak of those joys and glories to their fellows, and with earnest entreaties strive to woo them away from earth's fading pleasures, to share with them the rich provision made. Happy for those who have heard if they fully realize the responsibility resting upon them, and so, by word and deed, say, “Come,” that finally they may hear the Master say, “Well done.” And happy for those who receive the invitation through them, if, with joy, they hear, and, with gladness and earnest purpose, obey. “And let him that is athirst come.” Here are living waters, of which if a man drink he shall never thirst; they “shall be in him a well of water, springing up into everlasting life;” waters abundant, inexhaustible, which no drought can effect, no demand exhaust. “And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.” None need stay away. The aged may come in their weakness and infirmity. If they accept the invitation, they may satisfy their thirst, be strengthened in their weakness, clothed with the vigor of immortal youth, and share in the nuptial feast. The middle-aged, in the strength and vigor of manhood, may come. There is room for them. There is provision made for their wants. There is work in the vineyard for them to do. The great harvest-field is white; precious sheaves are to be gathered, and whoso reapeth receiveth wages. And what joy to sit down at last on the verdant banks of life's flowing river, with those who, through our instrumentality, have been induced to come—come, that they, too, might have life. And the young may come, with strong bodies, with minds fresh and vigorous, with large ability to labor, and large capacities for enjoyment. They may come before the best part of their lives has run to waste, their best energies been spent in the enemy's service, and here find abundant employment for their faculties and strength, and an ample supply for all their wants. They may be abundantly blessed in their labors here, and enjoy felicity, infinite in measure, and unending in duration, in the elysian fields of paradise restored. The rich may come, if, clad with humility, they come in Heaven's appointed way, and find acceptance while they drink largely of the pure water of life. The poor may freely come, and where caste is unknown, standing on a level with the honored of earth, share in the rich provision made. The white, the black, the bond, the free, the Jew, the Gentile,—all are invited, all may come. As the waters of the cool limpid spring, the purling brook, and the flowing river, are free to all: so is the water of life. “Without money and without price,” are the terms. If any remain and suffer in a dry and thirsty land, it is their own fault. “Ho! every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy, and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk, without money and without price.” Ye way-worn pilgrims, lonely and weary, come, drink, and be refreshed. Ye weak and trembling, heavy-laden, almost discouraged, come, and find in these waters courage and strength to face the enemy, to endure hardships, to overcome. Ye careless and indifferent, come. The invitation is to you. The way you travel is fraught with danger, and ends in death. The path of obedience is a path of safety. Oh! come to life's healing stream. Here are life, and joy, and peace. Heed the generous invitation. Avail yourselves of the benefits of the fountain, opened for sin and uncleanness. Come. Come now. Oh! let us, together, praise God for the fullness of the provision, and the freeness of the invitation. “And whosoever will, let him take of the water of life freely.” “All you that are weary and sad, come!
And you that are cheerful and glad, come!
In robes of humility clad, come!
The Saviour invites you to-day.
“Let youth in its freshness and bloom, come!
Let man in the pride of his noon, come!
Let age on the verge of the tomb, come!
Let none in his pride stay away.”