Only a Mirage by S. Thurston

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Washington, D.C. · Jan 28, 1904

Only a Mirage

By S. Thurston

S. THURSTON

It was in midsummer, and we were out from Los Angeles, Cal., one day's ride on the south-bound train. The orange and olive groves, interspersed with vineyards, had all been left far behind, with nothing to greet the eye but the arid wastes of southern Arizona, when to my surprise there appeared in the distance a lake with portions of its banks skirted with trees and rocky cliffs, casting their shadows into its placid waters.

I thought, Surely the train will soon make a curve, and we shall at least make a brief halt at what seems to be an oasis in the desert. But no, on rushed the train in its forward course, and if possible with increasing speed, though it did seem to me that a great mistake was made in not touching at the one refreshing spot. Stations and side-line roads had been passed as indicated by the folder-guide. These and the direction indicated by the unfailing compass, all gave sure evidence that this was the right train on the right road, and would in due time reach the city of New Orleans at the end of the journey.

I continued to gaze with intense interest upon the lake scene, when, to my surprise, it began to vanish, and soon it had given place to only barren waste. The on-speeding train had carried me to a point from which I was able to discover the deception, and in broken tones I could only say, Surely it is only a mirage. My remaining on the train was the very means by which its fraudulent nature was discovered. I had witnessed many mirages, but never one so thoroughly deceptive. Had I been with private conveyance, doubtless, like many others before, I should have driven weary miles in search of leafy shade and rocky shore, lured on to lose my way, and perish in the desert.

I thought, O, how many during the ages have left the car of salvation propelled by redeeming love, to follow some satanic mirage, only to perish in dry places! And it is a sad fact, that, with all the human wreckage of the past strewn along the sandy waste of time, it is even as the Lord hath said, “In the latter times some shall depart from the faith.” Yes, just now when God’s great, threefold, closing message is fast filling and lighting the earth with the glory of God, some mirage will suddenly flash up, in some respects closely resembling the work of God, and some will see great light in it, and immediately forsake the train of truth, leaving behind their first love with all its rich experience, and soon they will be added to the wreckage on the desert waste.

Brethren, we had better stay with this great central line of truth, the commandments of God and the faith of Jesus, and in due time, like the railroad train, it will carry us to a point where we shall be able to detect every passing latter-day error. Already Sinai and Calvary have been left far behind, and we are nearing the very borders of Canaan. Everything about the construction of the road has been carefully examined again and again. The gospel rail has been found to be securely spiked by the prophets to the foundation law-tie. All side lines of truth merge into this great straight-forward line. The desert waste is around us; the deceptions of Satan are more cunningly wrought than ever before, hence the more deceptive. To the already delayed train, the word is, “Delay shall be no longer.” The lever is being turned; the Spirit’s power, the unfailing compass, the increasing speed, all are sure indications that this is the right train, on the right road, cutting short our pilgrimage to the much-desired New Jerusalem at the end of the journey.

Brother pilgrim, this is not a city amid the miasms of a sluggish, muddy, swamp-banked Mississippi River,—not a city with funeral car, or marble slab and monument. No, no! but a real, golden city, with gem-set wall and pearly gates, with on-flowing river, made broad with crystal life water. Its banks are skirted with life’s tree of trees, all making glad the city and people of God.

“But of all the joys beyond the tide, The welcome on that golden strand, The best shall be from Him who died To bring us to that shining land.”