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IN CHRIST’S STEAD

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Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jan 31, 1878

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 51, No. 5.

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“IN CHRIST’S STEAD.”

My neighbor is an old man. I had never known him until the other day, when he sent for me. I have always thought him singular; for I live shut up in myself, and have learned next to nothing of people around me. I was surprised to find him richly attired in what seemed to be his ordinary dress; it was like that of a foreign ambassador I had once met at court.
“You did not know, then, that I was the representative of a King,” he said regretfully. “I have striven to bear my honors meekly; yet I must have failed in loyalty, or you would have known what splendor and sovereignty I officially represent in these provinces, subjugated, but half rebellious.”
“Half rebellious!” I stammered, ashamed to think what a dreamer I had been, and how ignorant. Imagine my surprise—I might rather say my horror—when the old man, scarcely noticing my manner, went on to tell me that, as his health had failed, he was about to be recalled to court, and he had been authorized by his King to offer me his diplomacy. Then, awaiting no answer, he proceeded to magnify his office. I heard with kindling imagination of an existent realm grander than any I had dreamed of in history or fable, of an army actually unnumbered—an army never routed, never retreating; but militant, triumphant, wherever were its banners or its legions. Most wonderful of all was the diplomat’s story of his Monarch. He bowed his head, and beneath his breath whispered to me of such unutterable glory, such magnificence, such power without limit, that instinctively I drew back from the mere mortal who was its exponent. Presently he uplifted his face, and it was so reverently tender, that the wonder in me lost itself in longing; for how can I tell you of the loveliness, the unheard-of mercy, the sweet, fatherly patience—of his King? He so adored his Sovereign that in his soul he reflected his image, and I, looking therein as in a mirror, saw that image.
When he ceased speaking, I said, “I would willingly be in the service of such a Lord; but I am not fitted for the honor. I do not know the people to whom you are sent, or even the cause you present.”
“I am only fitted because I go in my King’s name. He has sent me with good tidings to the poor, to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, to set at liberty them that are bruised, to preach the acceptable year of my Lord. This is the commission of all sent out from his court. They are sent to provinces full of the poor, and the bruised, and the broken-hearted; moreover, wherever we go, we are to show to men our Master, as I have shown him to you, that the ignorant and the rebellious may know of his power and of his mercy. There are many, very many sent thus from court; but all go with one message: a ‘wonderful, wonderful sentence.’”
“May I know it?” I asked, half afraid.
“Certainly. It is this: ‘Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us, we pray you, in Christ’s stead, be ye reconciled to God.’”
“I remember to have heard of God—of this Christ, your King,” I answered then.
“Yes, and we ambassadors are also called Christians. There are very many of us in the neighboring city. To think what a grand and awful responsibility is laid upon us! We are here ‘in Christ’s stead.’”
I instantly resolved, as he said this, that I could never assume such an office. Perhaps the old man divined my thoughts, for he said, “Go into the city to-morrow and learn more of this thing.”
Then, as he seemed weary, I left him. Very early next day I started out, after a night of more anxiety than I had ever spent. When I thought of some time “seeing the King in his glory, and the land that is afar off,” I was eager with heart and soul to embrace the proffered title. But the magnitude of one idea humbled me below all such aspirations—“in Christ’s stead.” It echoed and re-echoed in my mind. The King’s ambassadors must do the King’s work as the King himself would do it. Soon I found myself in the heart of the city, in the market place. I should have passed through the crowd without stopping, had I not come suddenly upon a group who were buying and selling gold. One man’s face held me motionless; such an agony of desire was stamped on it, as he saw his neighbor’s gain, such gloating delight in his own success!
“I want to paint that face and call it Avarice,” whispered an artist at my elbow.
He pushed me one side to get nearer, and I saw on that miser as he sprang frantically back and forth in his haste—I saw the ambassador’s robe! I must have wandered a long time after this, lost in questionings and wonder, muttering to myself, “In Christ’s stead! to preach the gospel to the poor, to heal the broken-hearted!” I grew greatly indignant, and resolved to expose this unworthy officer to my friend, that word might be sent back to court.
But before the sun went down I saw strange—such strange things. Only to remember the surprise and bewilderment, the grief and anger, of that day sickens and wearies me. I shall not recall it in detail. I lost half my faith in men. Returning at night to the old ambassador, I found him bent over his official papers, studying them with a face which, when uplifted, seemed filled with positive rapture. He greeted me warmly, and then asked: “You have been talking with, and learning of, some other Christians who have received this ministry—some who have renounced the hidden things of dishonesty, not walking in craftiness, but by manifestation of the truth commending themselves to every man’s conscience in the sight of God. You have seen such, my friend?”
I forgot how it would seem to him. I broke the quiet of his evening hour by a burst almost of fury: “I have, indeed, seen your King’s ambassadors! I saw one standing among men fast losing all their manhood, men who needed warning, help, pardon, the force of a pure, noble example. He stood there—‘in Christ’s stead’—and he reached to them a wine-cup! All day long I have watched for them. Some have bartered away their robes and lost their commissions; some ridicule the office they pretend to fill; many have forgotten the message with which they were sent. They are wretched hypocrites. You are an enthusiast and see all things in a nebulous glory. I am, to be sure, convinced of your sincerity, but equally am I convinced that your King cannot be what you believe him, or his followers would not want to disgrace their calling as his servants.”
The old man shrank as if struck by a blow; then tears filled his eyes and choked his voice, until my heart was smitten with remorse. He wrung his feeble hand sobbing: “They do not! they will not realize they are in Christ’s stead! O my friend, it is not right to judge of the Master by a few of his subjects. There are some also—I have to confess it with shame—there are many like those you have met to-day. Why have you happened only upon these last? In every land and clime you will find true-hearted, noble ambassadors, doing the King’s work as he would have it done. I hoped you would have had your whole soul set on fire with love and enthusiasm for his cause. Oh! if you could know of him as we his servants do!” And forgetting himself again in his zeal to communicate to me his admiration and affection, he lost all trouble; at the end of his appeal he grasped my hand, crying, “Now, as though God did beseech you by us, we pray you, in Christ’s stead, be ye reconciled to God.”
I cannot tell how or why, but I forgot those faithless ambassadors whom I had met. I felt only this man’s ardor, and quickened desires sprang up within me to join in this service which so stirred every impulse of his soul. I told him this, and went home. The next day he was recalled to court. I am in doubt, in trouble. I think of the old man with reverence, with an undefined longing. I remember the frantic gold buyer with disgust. All the time there echo through my soul the words, “In Christ’s stead.”—Christian Weekly.