The Great Supper by G. E. Shipman, M. D.

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Sep 9, 1875

The Great Supper.

By G. E. Shipman, M. D.

“BLESSED are they which are called to the marriage supper of the Lamb.” Rev. 19:9.

I am going to a great supper; will you go with me? I know it will be something far beyond anything that you or I have ever conceived of, for it is to be given by the great King himself. Besides, when invitations are given out a long while beforehand, some great thing is to be expected; but the invitations to this supper were given out, not months, but many, many years ago, and, all this while, preparations have been making.

I know it will be a great event; for the supper is to be given in the palace of the great King; not in any remote part of his dominion, however fair, but in the very center; in the chief palace of the chief city; in that city which has no need of the light of the sun nor of that of the moon; where no night has ever cast a shade over the inhabitants; where no sickness nor sorrow nor sighing ever enter; where the inhabitants shall never say, “I am sick.” What supper was ever spread in such a place as this before?

But more than this, I know it will be a marvelous supper by the guests invited; marvelous as to their number—no man can number them; countless throngs; every age since that of the first man, every clime, every language, will be here represented—but yet more marvelous as to their degree; every one shall be a king, and shall wear all the insignia of endless dominion.

But do not look so curiously at me. I know what you want to say, it is that you do not think that I, at least, look much like a king. I know I do not, to you, but you are no judge of kings. My Father, who has invited me, knows what kings are; true, I am not a king by birth, but by adoption, yet I am none the less a king, and, as such, I am invited to this supper. Besides, you have not yet seen me with my crown and royal robe on; perhaps if you had you would think better of me; you will so see me one day, and then you will think that I am a king indeed. That spotless robe! No fuller on earth could make a robe so white; it was washed in most precious blood; all the treasures of earth could not buy one like it; it was obtained for me at a cost beyond all expression, and the crown is a fit companion-piece for it—a proper emblem of a dominion which shall never pass away.

Do you ask me in what the entertainment consists? Neither can I speak of this very precisely. There will be music there—rare, ravishing music—not such music as we make on earth in those few, fitful moments when we can break away from the grasp of some of our lusty foes and know not how soon they may be upon us again—mixed more or less with weariness or fear—but music, expressive of joy unspeakable, songs such as conquerors sing. There will be at least 144,000—all masters of song—who will join in praise of the Giver of the feast, and in a song of joy and triumph. Then we shall doubtless hear the exploits of those who have followed the Master through many a fearful fight; they will tell of their fierce conflicts, and show the trophies which they took from the foe, and then perhaps, ever and anon, we shall all break out in the grand chorus, “Unto Him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and his Father; to him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.” We can sing with a good relish there; all our conflicts will be behind us; we shall have entered upon our rest, to go no more out forever. There will be no weariness to shorten those royal

revels, no pressing cares, no urgent engagements, no interruptions of any kind. Our royal Host will say, “Eat, O friends; drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved,” and every one shall leave the table fully satisfied. Could you ask any more?

But I see you look wistfully now. It seems to you that you would like to sit down with those kings and revel in those eternal delights. You look as if the door had been left partly open and you had caught a glimpse of that royal company, or an odor of the banquet, or a sound of the celestial harmony. Come, then, for all things are now ready. I am authorized to invite you. “Let him that heareth say, Come,” nay, you have an invitation of your own, “Whosoever will, let him come,” so I ask you again. WILL YOU GO WITH ME?—G. E. Shipman, M. D.