Jesus Only by T. L. Cuyler

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, Cal. · Jan 28, 1886

Jesus Only.

By T. L. Cuyler

It is very probable that Christ's transfiguration took place upon Mount Hermon. The outlook from that summit carried the eye from Lebanon, with its diadem of glittering ice, southward to the silvery mirror of Gennesaret; but it was not that vision of natural beauty that the disciples looked at chiefly; they saw "Jesus only." Two illustrious prophets, Moses and Elijah, had just made their miraculous appearance on the top of the mount; but neither of these mighty men appeared any longer to the disciples' view; they "saw no man save Jesus only."

In this expression we find the clue to the power of apostolic preaching. That solitary figure on the mount became the central figure to the eyes and hearts of the apostles. One person occupied their thoughts; one person filled all their most effective discourses. It was no such benevolent charlatan as poor Renan has lately attempted to portray; it was the omnipotent and holy Son of God. They saw in him "God manifest in the flesh;" they saw in him an infinite Redeemer, a divine model, an ever-living intercessor and friend. And they saw no one save Jesus only. Paul gave utterance to the heart of the whole apostolic brotherhood when he said, "I determined to know nothing among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified." Has not this been the key-note to the best sermons of the best ministers ever since? Is not that the most powerful sermon that is the most luminous with Christ? Depend upon it that the pulpit, the Sabbath-school, and the volume which God honors with the richest success, are those which present "no man save Jesus only."

Here, too, is a clue to the best method of dealing with awakened and inquiring hearts. We are too prone to send the unconverted to a prayer-meeting, or to reading good books, or to listening to some popular Boanerges. The experiences of many a troubled inquirer have been somewhat like those of the woman to whom a faithful minister once said,—

"Have you been in the habit of attending church?"

"Yes, I have been to every church in town; but the little comfort I get soon goes away again, and leaves me as bad as before."

"Do you read the Bible at home?"

"Sir, I am always reading the Bible; sometimes I get a little comfort; but it soon leaves me as wretched as ever."

"Have you prayed for peace?"

"Oh! sir, I am praying all the day long; sometimes I get a little peace after praying; but I soon lose it. I am a miserable woman."

"Now, madam, when you went to church, or prayed, or read your Bible, did you rely on these means to give you comfort?"

"I think I did."

"To whom did you pray?"

"To God, sir; to whom else should I pray?"

"Now read this verse, 'Come unto me, and I will give you rest.' Jesus said this. Have you gone to Jesus for rest?"

The lady looked amazed, and tears welled up into her eyes. Light burst in upon her heart, like unto the light that flooded Mount Hermon on the transfiguration morn. Everything else that she had been looking at—church, Bible, mercy seat, and minister—all disappeared, and to her wondering, believing eyes there remained no man save Jesus only. She was liberated from years of bondage on the spot. The scales fell from her eyes, and the spiritual fetters from her soul. Jesus only could do that work of deliverance; but he did not do it until she looked to him alone.

This incident, which has been given at length in one of the American Tract Society's narratives, reached us during the first years of our ministry. With this "open secret" in our hand, we approached the first Roman Catholic that ever attended upon our preaching. He had turned his troubled eye for a long time to the holy virgin, and to sainted martyrs in the calendar. He had often been to a priest, never to a Saviour. We set before him Jesus only. He looked up and saw the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world. "My Romish mother," said he to us, "would burn up my Bible if she knew I had one in my house." But she could not burn out the blessed Jesus from his emancipated and happy heart.

Next we took this simple revelation to a poor invalid of threescore and ten. His sight was failing, and the vision of his mind was as blurred and dim as the vision of his body. We set before him, in our poor way, Jesus only. The old man could hardly see the little grandchild who read aloud to him. But he could see Jesus with the eye of faith. The patriarch who had hardened under seventy years of sin, became a little child. The skepticism of a lifetime vanished when the Holy Spirit revealed to his searching, yearning look the divine form of a Saviour crucified.

We never forgot these lessons learned in our ministerial boyhood. From that time to this, we have found that the only sure way of bringing light and peace to anxious inquirers is to direct them away from themselves, away from ritualities and stereotyped forms, away from agencies of every kind, away from everything save Jesus only. John the Baptist held the essence of the gospel on his tongue when he cried out, "Behold the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sin of the world." My anxious friend, be assured that you never will find pardon for the past, and hope for the future; you never will know how to live, or be prepared to die, until you look to Jesus only.

Here is a hint for desponding Christians. You are harassed with doubts. Without are fightings, and within are fears. Why? Because you have tried to live on frames and feelings, and they ebb and flow like the sea-tide. You have rested on past experiences, and not on a present Saviour. You have looked at yourself too much, and not to him who is made to you righteousness and full redemption. Do you long for light, peace, strength, assurance, joy? Then do your duty, and look to Jesus only.

When the godly minded Oliphant was on his dying bed, they read to him that beautiful passage in the seventh chapter of Revelation, "And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." (It is the passage which poor Burns could never read with a dry eye.) The old man exclaimed, "Perhaps that is so. The Bible tells me that there is no weeping in Heaven; but I know I shall cry the first time I see my Saviour!" He was right. The first object that would enchain his view on entering the gates of glory, would not be the jeweled walls, or the shining ranks of the seraphim. It would not be the parent who bore him, or the pastor who taught him the way of life. But amid the myriad glories, the thousand wonders, of that wonderful world of light and joy, the believer's eye, in its first enrapturing vision, shall "see no man save Jesus only."