True Rest | AdventAI

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Nov 8, 1864

True Rest.

If thou should'st fail to find true rest, On earth, thou'lt find it not in Heaven; Here must it dwell within thy breast, Or thou must tempest-tost be driven.

For what is rest? not indolence Of body or of mind or soul; Not in the loss of sight or sense, Not in the grave our earthly goal.

It is not freedom from the ills Which flesh is heir to—sickness, pain, Malice that wounds, or Death that kills, Temptation's lure or penury's chain.

In vain in nature's solitude 'Tis fondly sought—in hermit's cell Where stranger footsteps ne'er intrude— On mountain top, in silent dell; It reigns not in the peasant's cot, Nor in the palace of the king. It is not found by chance or lot; 'Tis not a partial, birthright thing.

Gold cannot buy, nor valor win, Nor power command, nor station gain it, Whatever bears the taint of sin, Unpurified cannot obtain it.

Thou mayest have beauty, wit and parts That shall secure thee vast acclaim, And be the idol of all hearts, And gather universal fame; And by the potentates of earth Be honored as a chosen guest; And be exalted from thy birth— Yet never know one hour of REST.

Thou mayest upon thy very knees Have gone on many a pilgrimage, And far excelled all devotees That ever trod this mortal stage, In self-inflicted agonies, All sinful lusts to crucify; In vain thy tears, and groans, and cries, REST by such acts thou canst not buy.

Thou mayest have joined some chosen sect, And given thy sanction to a creed, And been pronounced among the elect, And zealous been in word and deed— Most orthodox of proselytes Strict in observing seasons, days, Church order, ceremonies, rites, Constant at church to pray and praise Munificent in all good works, That with the gospel may be blest All heathen tribes, Jews, Greeks and Turks, Yet still a stranger be to REST.

For what is REST? 'Tis not to be Half saint, half sinner, day by day; Half saved, half lost, half bound, half free; Half in the fold and half astray; Faithless this hour, the next most true; Just half alive, half crucified; Half washed and half polluted too; To Christ and Belial both allied!

Now trembling at Mount Sinai's base, Anon on Calvary's summit shouting One instant boasting of free grace— The next God's pardoning mercy doubting Now sinning, now denouncing sin, Filled with alternate joy and sorrow; To-day feel all renewed within, But fear a sad relapse to-morrow!

All ardent now and eloquent, And bold for God with soul on fire, At once complete extinguishment Ensues, and all the sparks expire;

O, most unhappy of mankind, In thee what contradictions meet, Seeing thy way yet groping blind; Most conscientious, yet a cheat! This is 'the old man with his deeds,' Striving to do his very best. 'Tis crucifixion that he needs— Self-righteous, how can he know rest?

What then is REST? It is to be Perfect in love and holiness, From sin eternally made free; Not under law but under grace.

Once cleansed from guilt, forever pure; Once pardoned, ever reconciled; Once healed, to find a perfect cure; As Jesus blameless, undefiled; Once saved, no more to go astray; Once crucified, then always dead; Once in the new and living way, True ever to our living Head; Dwelling in God and God in us; From every spot and wrinkle clear, Safely delivered from the curse; Incapable of doubt or fear.

It is to have eternal life, To follow where the Saviour trod, To be removed from earthly strife— Joint-heirs of Christ and sons of God, Never from rectitude to swerve, Though by the powers of hell pursued, To consecrate, without reserve, All we possess in doing good.

It is to glory in the cross, Endure reproach, despise the shame, And wisely count as dung and dross, All earthly grandeur, homage, fame, It is to be all prayer and praise, Not in set form or phrase expressed, But ceaseless as angelic lays— This, only this, is CHRISTIAN REST.

He who, believing, hath obtained THIS REST, shall ne'er be troubled more Though round him lions fierce, unchained, For his destruction rage and roar.

He may be famishing for bread, Or be of men the jest and mirth, And have no where to lay his head, No spot to call his own on earth; Temptation with its endless wiles May strive to turn his feet aside, And flattery with its treacherous smiles May hope to flush some latent pride;

He may be hunted as a beast— As heretic dragged to the stake Placed on the rack Revenge to feast, And Bigotry's fierce wrath to slake; Or whether death or hell assail, It matters not; within his breast Is joy and peace that cannot fail; Nought shall destroy his CHRISTIAN REST.