A Feast by C. M. Willis

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jun 6, 1865

A Feast.

By C. M. Willis

"THERE they made him a supper, and Martha served; but Lazarus was one of them that sat at the table with him." John xii, 2. Often while reading this record of John, has my mind been peculiarly impressed with this particular verse; and in imagination I have often pictured to myself that singular group. I say singular, because history does not record another such a scene. In the person of that poor dusty wayfarer, scoffed at by the mocker, despised by the proud of earth's groveling worms, rejected by those to whom he would do good, we behold the great Messiah, the mighty Counselor, the Son of God! The kind friend of this humble family, they were ever ready to receive him with smiles of welcome, and listen with rapt attention to his words of wisdom. Nor do I wonder that while listening to his instructions, Mary should forget that supper needed serving.

And seated at the same table, with looks of admiration, we see Lazarus. He who but a short time before was a resident of the charnel house; whose beaming eyes were closed and expressionless in death; whose noble brow was clammy with the damps of the grave; on whom corruption and worms had begun their work; And the sisters while they watched his falling strength, had summoned to his bedside their beloved friend, and while he lingered, they waited, hoped, and prayed, still wondering at his delay, till disease has accomplished its work, and their brother lies a lifeless corpse; and he from whom they expected relief, still away. But a divine purpose lay hidden under this seeming desertion. The time had come for him to assert his Sonship by an indisputable display of miraculous power. He came at last, and while this proof of the existence of sin drew tears of pity

from his eyes, he could raise a prayer of thanksgiving that his Father deigned to hear prayer. This manifestation was not to gratify the curious, or to display his triumph over the cynical scoffer, or the vain philosopher; it was for the benefit of his followers, and the honest-hearted ones, that they might become confirmed that he truly was the Son of God.

A voice low and solemn, so solemn that it hushed the awe-stricken listeners into silence, is heard saying, "Father I thank thee thou hast heard me. And I knew that thou hearest me always." But when that solemn voice proclaimed in thunder tones, "Lazarus come forth," death's iron bars were broken; the dead heard and obeyed; and the voice of the scoffer was silenced.

And thus we find them seated at the table, Lazarus the redeemed from death, and Christ the mighty Conqueror. And yet how humble! The majesty of the King is laid aside, and he appears as the loving friend of his entertainers.

And from this interesting scene my mind goes forward to one of still greater interest, when this humble individual, scorned and derided as he then was, shall again make his appearance amid earthly scenes, not as a poor prisoner in the hands of cruel scorners, bearing a heavy cross, spit upon, buffeted and despised; but he shall go forth on a white horse, with his eyes as a flame of fire, and on his head many crowns; while out of his mouth goeth a sharp sword, that with it he may smite the nations. Then as his thunders shake creation, his voice, rolling majestically from pole to pole, shall bid the dead arise and come to judgment.

Dear reader, there will be no idle spectator gazing on that scene with disinterested curiosity, as at the grave of Lazarus. Every one has a deep, an eternal interest pending then. Which is it, eternal life or eternal death? Now is the time to decide this question, and all must there abide by the decision here made. And when the great feast is then prepared and the invitation given for the fowls of the air to gather to the supper of the great God, to eat of the flesh of kings, and of captains, and of mighty men, the flesh of horses and them that sit on them, and of all men bond and free, great and small, dear reader, where will you and I be? And O guilty sinner, where will you be? Pause and consider! Shall it be our flesh, and the flesh of our children or our neighbors that shall help to furnish that feast? Oh let us with fear and trembling be up and doing our duty, that we may be sheltered under the outstretched wings of the great Protector, escape the terrors of that day, and clear our skirts of the blood of others.

I fear we do not sufficiently consider these things. Every one that does, cannot avoid having an earnest desire for the welfare of others. I fear we are too great idlers in the vineyard of the Lord. If we fail to live out the truths we profess, or cast an unholy influence around us, will it avail us to use the plea of Cain and ask, "Am I my brother's keeper?" Assuredly not. The answer would come back, "Thy brother's blood crieth unto me from the ground." Knowing therefore the terrors of the Lord, let us each one strive to be a living witness against the iniquities of others, that though they refuse to receive reproof from our lips, our conscientious lives may testify against them. There is much to do, and if we fold our hands and wait for God to convert the world, sudden destruction will overtake us.

But we can look beyond these earthly feasts, though honored by heavenly guests, beyond the dreadful feast of the fowls of the earth, at the closing scenes of time. We hear with joy of yet another feast being prepared. When the wicked have received the reward due to their sins; and the earth is cleansed from the stains which it has received from the presence of sin; and the desert shall have budded and blossomed like the rose, when the city of God shall descend to earth as a bride adorned for her husband, while the righteous nations enter in—then will there be a "feast of fat things, a feast of wine on the lees; of fat things full of marrow, of wine on the lees well refined." Isa. xxv, 6. Put the question to any one you meet, ask them at which of these feasts they would prefer to be a guest, and in every case the honest answer would be, a guest in the heavenly kingdom. And yet how few comparatively, are striving. Every one has some lamented

friend who they believe will enjoy a seat at that table.

Can you bear the thought that that respected parent, that loved companion, brother or sister, or smiling little one, dearer than life itself, whom you saw lowered into the yawning grave, with agony untold, shall come forth to occupy a seat at that heaven-spread table, and the door be shut, and you hear the Master say, "Depart, I never knew you?"

The thought should make you tremble. And yet it is not too late to secure a seat there. Though it may cost you humility, crosses, groans and tears, Heaven is purchased at a cheap rate even then. And Christ himself shall serve us, and it will be a continual feast; a continual time of rejoicing. And why not? The last tear is shed, for God has dried it. The last dying friend is restored, and death is vanquished. The last temptation is overcome, for God has banished the tempter. Nothing more now, but to go in and inherit the kingdom prepared from the foundation, shout songs of victory and glory to God and the Lamb; drink of the waters flowing from the throne; partake of the fruits of the tree of life and die no more. What a feast! And all who will may partake. Blessed privilege! Who will refuse!

C. M. WILLIS.