The Thoughts of the Lost Soul Concerning It
In Judas we have an instance of a lost soul, — a soul just departing to the everlasting prison-house. Of him we read, “then Judas, who had betrayed him, when he saw that he was condemned, repented himself and brought again the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders.” And his testimony respecting the blood is given in the following confession, falling from his dying lips, “I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood.”1 1 Matt, xxvii. 3, 4.
But a few hours before, he had betrayed it, he had sold it for thirty pieces of silver. But now remorse has fastened itself upon him; his conscience, which had slept, is now awaking; his guilt, like a poisoned garment, covers him round, and darts in its tortures at every pore.
One object occupies his whole vision, so that he can see no other; it is the blood he had betrayed. High above all the sins of a sin tul life, this towers, in awful pre-eminence. It is his sin of sins; the sin which sets aside every other, as if in comparison with this they did not deserve the name. One scene haunts him, like a spectre from beneath, hanging upon his steps and whispering terror into his soul, — the bargain for the blood, — the innocent blood! He cannot shake it off. It clings closer and gathers darker around him.
He is just about to go “to his own place;” and he leaves behind him his testimony to the inrfbcence of the blood. He tells us with dying lips that it is innocent blood. As he is about to plunge into hell, he turns round to his companions in guilt, and says, “it is innocent blood.”
It is its innocence that makes it so awful, even to think upon. It is its innocence that strikes into his vitals as with a scorpion’s sting. Had there been one stain upon it, his agony might not have been so hopeless, so horrible. There might have been some relief, some hope, some ray of light. But it is innocent blood Its innocence! — oh, it is this that torments him before the time. It is this that sends him howling along like some raging demoniac, seeking refuge among the tombs, — seeking refuge in hell, as if hell might be some relief, because removed from the place where the innocent blood had been sold, and was crying to heaven against its seller. Oh! he would do any thing now rather than look upon that innocent blood. He would flee to any place of darkness, where it might be hidden from his eyes!
Then, as if to double all his agony, when lie casts down the price of blood at the feet of the murderers, all the reply he meets with is the cutting bitterness of cold remorseless malignity, “what is that to us, see thou to that.” Ah! poor wretched soul, thou art lost indeed: and this is all the sympathy with which thy companions greet thee; — a foretaste of the sympathy with which devils below shall salute thee when thou goest down to their abode of woe!
We see then, that it is specially the mnocence of the blood that shall be of all others, the cutting, stinging thought of a lost soul. The blood he has slighted and trampled on was not only so precious, but so innocent! It is this that shall make hell so intolerable. The blood he has betrayed was without blemish and without spot; yet he has treated it as if it were polluted and vile! He has treated it as if it were the felon’s blood, — the blood of one whose crimes demanded its shedding. Its innocence stares him in the face. Its innocence is gall and wormwood in his cup, the sting of the worm that never dies. Oh! could he but discover one stain on it, it would help to cool his burning tongue; it would help to unloose his adamantine chain, to quench the lire that is consuming his bones. But all in vain. It is innocent blood; and shall be so for ever. Its innocence shall be the consummation of his agony. It might have exalted him to heaven; hut now it is sinking him eternally to the lowest hell.
Heedless sinner! such may shortly be thy doom! Thou despisest the blood, or at least thou slightest it. Perhaps thou art one of those who betray it, time after time, at a communion table. How awful thy condition! The wrath of God abideth on thee even now; and thou shalt shortly be in hell, if grace prevent not. There thou shalt be with Judas, hearing his bitter cries, and joining thine to his. Thou hast followed his footsteps here as a betrayer and despiser of the blood, and ere long thou must reap the recompense which he is reaping.
Thou shalt meet him and his fellows; and oh, what a meeting! “Hell from beneath is moved for thee to meet thee at thy coming.” They will recognize and salute thee. Ha! art thou too become like unto us; thou are brought down to the grave; thou art fallen from heaven; thou art cast out as an abominable branch, going down to the stones of the pit as a carcase trodden under foot. Art thou too become like one of us; — thou that hast named the name of the Redeemer, thou that hast heard the good news of his lifebringing death; thou that hast kept company with his disciples as if thou wert altogether one of them?” And as thou criest out in thine agony, cursing them as thy tempters, thou receivest no reply but the sneer of heartless mockery, “what is that to us, see thou to that.”
Thus shalt thou be eternally shut in. Whether thou wilt or not, thou must have thy companionship with Judas, with the lost, with the devil and his angels. Thou Isaiah xiv. 9. cansfc not escape. Thou canst not rise. The innocent blood presses thee down, — a heavier mill-stone than that which shall sink Babylon in the mighty waters. And as thou plungest downward in that wild abyss of smoke and fire and vapour, ascending up for ever and ever, this shall be the cry of thy tormented spirit, “I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood.”
Must it he so? Art thou resolved to perish, and to crush thy immortal spirit beneath the weight of this innocent blood? Must mercy be slighted, life rejected, and forgiveness flung away as dross? Must Satan be served, the world worshipped, self indulged, and God set clean aside as a Being better far forgotten and disowned? Must hell be chosen, when the gate of the Kingdom stands wide before thee, and the kindliest welcome proffered that ever friend gave to friend, or parent to child?
Must it be so? Is thy mind made up to brave the worst? Is thy life here to be one of reckless unbelief and folly? Wilt thou have no compassion upon thyself, but go on courting the evil, as if it were the better lot?
Heedless soul! Stand still for one moment in thy foolishness. Listen! A voice comes wildly up as from the regions beneath. It is the voice of wailing, and its burden is, “I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood.” It is the voice of Judas! His wailing is not done. It was the first awful note of it which earth heard ere he plunged beneath. But the prolongation was reserved for other ears than man’s, other realms than these of this still sweet and sunny earth. It is the faint far-off echo of that cry, that is now ascending. Man! dost thou not hear it? But a little while, and thou shalt join it, to swell its tone of infinite and eternal sadness, if thou madly mockest all warning, and persistest in thy unbelief.
Do not so. Thou hast gone near enough to the gates of hell; yet go not in. Turn back. It is not yet too late. Even thou mayest be saved. The gate of light stands as widely open as the gate of darkness. The way of life, the narrow way, is as free to thee as is the way of death.
There is still forgiveness. And the glad tidings of it are as glad as ever. No sin of thine has altered that gladness or made the tidings a forbidden joy to thee. We can tell you as truly as ever that “these things are written that thou mightest believe that Jesus is] the Christ, and that believing thou mightest have life through his name.”1
1 John xx. 81.
“The blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin.” Remember, it is all sin, — even yours. It can wash, it can pardon, it can justify even thee. Take it now, for cleansing and salvation. It will purge thy conscience; it will reconcile thee to God; it will fill thy soul with peace. And are these blessings so common and so cheap, that thou canst afford to slight or to postpone them?
The great day of reckoning for the blood draws nigh. He whose blood was shed is coming to take vengeance on its shedders. It will be a sore reckoning for millions. And who shall then attempt to scorn the accusation as if it were either idle or untrue? “Blood-guiltiness” shall then be brought in as the verdict against this world, — and in that awful verdict your name shall be found.