A Light Is Approaching by John G. Matteson

Pacific Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Oakland, California · Nov 20, 1879

A Light Is Approaching.

By John G. Matteson

IT is not the light of a friendly star, neither the gentle rays of the silvery moon, nor the more brilliant rays of the sun in his splendor. It is the lurid glare of the devouring fire—the awful luster of the everlasting burnings. Isa. 33:14.

How fearful the destruction of villages and cities by the all-devouring element. How awful the convulsions of a trembling earth swallowing up man and beast, opening and shutting in fearful commotion. Terrible was the raging of the watery element in which the ancient world did perish. But more terrible—a world on fire!

“Sinners in Zion are afraid. Fearfulness hath surprised the hypocrites. Who among us shall dwell with the devouring fire? Who among us shall dwell with everlasting burnings?” The sky is ablaze with lightnings. Fearful thunders shake the air. The earth trembles. The foundations of the mountains are on fire. The hot lava pours forth like mighty cataracts. Yonder sinks into the fiery stream a great and populous city. Its costly towers tumble into ruins. The mirth and pleasure have ceased. The vain conversation is hushed in silence. Hear the frantic shrieks of despair from thousands of unhappy creatures who obeyed not the gospel of our Lord. Their wailing and weeping is more faint. Now they are silent.

The lake of fire rushes on. Now it is on my right and left. Behind me the way is closed up, and before me is nothing but darkness. Whither shall I flee? Now my fine farm and costly dwellings are to be devoured. I labored hard to satisfy my soul below, and obtain what my heart desired. I was successful. Alas, my success proves my greatest failure. I intended also to have a treasure in Heaven—treasure in Heaven!—oh! I have no treasure in Heaven. I intended to do something for the Lord in the future, but now it is too late, too late!

Here is my poor family. What shall I do for them? I did not take time to pray with them, or read to them. I was not very anxious to take them to the meeting or Sabbath-school. I have lost my interest in the kingdom, and they never had any. Oh! I remember—once my heart was touched with love divine. The warning was faithfully given. What a kind invitation I had to come to Jesus! I sought him. I found sweetness in his precious truth. The hope of immortality looked good to me. Alas! the world, the world came between me and my Saviour. I neglected such great salvation. Mercy lingers no longer. The faithful messenger warns me no more. The summer is past, the harvest is ended. Oh! what shall I do? I remember my past sins—I see them one by one. What a miserable wretch I am! How I have sinned against God, and my fellow-men, and my family—oh! my poor family!

I see yonder a glorified company. The mighty power of God shields them against these awful burnings. There is that poor brother whom I never thought much of. Yet I remember his earnest prayers. I remember how foolishly he would often divide the last he had with those who were more needy than himself. Often he would give to what he called the cause of God. I see angels and saints, an innumerable company. Where are they going, I wonder? Perhaps to the heavenly city. Yes, they are going to live with Jesus forever. Eternal life! precious gift of God! Can not I have eternal life? Must I perish here?—Perish without hope, in dark despair? Not one glimmering ray of hope? Not one?

Oh! that terrible voice: “Depart from Me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels.” Cursed be the day that I was born. Cursed be my folly and sin. I must die. I must lose honor, glory, and immortality—eternal life.

Is this a dream? Oh, no! Fearful realities, foretold by the never-erring word of prophecy, soon to be realized by thousands of poor deceived professors, who shall say: Lord, Lord, open unto us. But the Lord says: “Depart from me, ye that work iniquity.”

Dear reader, let us well consider the end of the race, and work out our own salvation with fear and trembling. Be not satisfied until God's Spirit bears witness with your spirit that you are his child, until the dear Lord shall smile to you through your penitent tears. Seek daily a new consecration to God and his work. Daily hold sweet communion with Jesus. Lay up your treasure above, and soon you will reap a rich reward.

JOHN G. MATTESON.