Street Meeting, Seventh

Last November 9th Sabbath, our hearts were truly anxious, knowing that one of the mightiest tempests of the year would pass near our location. How could we forget the recent, grievous suffering in the Visayas, where the floods drove poor souls to the very roofs of their houses to save their families and few earthly goods? The destruction was widespread, and many lives were lost. Until today, many regions are still without electricity. This new storm was much larger, covering the entire archipelago. To prepare my own dwelling, I did cut down some trees lest they fall and crush our roof. My chief concern, however, was for the little children of the Sabbath school and our devoted brethren who will be commuting to our place for fellowship. I could not bear to have them travel through a storm. Despite the situation, I sent word that our gathering will still continue, but we petitioned our Father for a brief, precious window of calm that we might gather and render Him the worship due His Name. When our appointed hour arrived, at the very time the weather forecast said the storm would hit, the sky was dark, yet peaceful. The Almighty granted us a sweet stillness, only a gentle breath of wind passing by. We were thus miraculously enabled to finish our worship of the Lord that blessed morning. What grace! Thanks be to our Father, who yet hears our particular petition.

It has been impressed upon me, as a sacred duty—a principle of sound stewardship that I must now commit to writing. The arduous labours of any public ministry are well known to any who have attempted them. We spend ourselves, pouring out the water of life upon the thirsty ground, and for six occasions—six regular outings where the Word of the Lord is proclaimed before the people—this work must continue. Yet, a man must also tend his inner garden, and a shepherd must feed the flock. The last gathering would have been our seventh street meeting. But in our Lord's providence He guided us to a most precious realization. Therefore, I hold it that after these six public efforts, the seventh assembly must needs be called for, exclusively for the flock. This is not a retreat from the world, but a necessary provision. It is a time for the quiet, blessed ministry of the Word, where the dear sheep of the pasture may receive their special portion of spiritual sustenance. The soul cannot live forever upon the clamor of the street; it requires the deep, rich feeding found only in deliberate, collected devotion. This arrangement, then, shall surely stand as a testament to the wise economy of grace.

Today, this Lord's Day, the Sixteenth, would have marked the eighth street meeting. But I would note here, that we do not keep a ledger of how much we have done, nor do we seek vain glory in the number of our public labors. Our only ambition is the simple obedience to the unmerited favor of our Redeemer! We are merely following where His loving hand doth lead.

Before the gathering ventures out, before the reading of the Holy Scripture is exposed to the ears of the general public, we first feed our own souls. For a full hour before the street meeting begins, the saints gather—those whose eyes the Lord hath already touched—for a time of sacred fellowship and a special exposition of the very text we intend to proclaim. It is only right that those whose spiritual eyes and ears has been opened should receive a deeper, more intentional portion of living water. They are prepared to receive the rich, profound meaning of the Word. But for those poor souls still wandering in darkness, still dead in their comprehension for lack of the illuminating Spirit—we approach them with a different pleading, one suited to their great need. Thus, our preparation ensures that strength is given to the living, before the seed of truth is sown upon the ground where dead men's bones lay.

We search the holy pages, and find no rigid dictate that binds the assemblies of the faithful to brick and mortar, to consecrated halls alone. No, no! We stand in the full glow of our God-given freedom, and therefore, it is beyond all contestation that we carry our services directly into the public square and within public hearing. For I ask, what good purpose does a burning candle serve if it is placed beneath a basket? (Matthew 5:15, Mark 4:21, Luke 8:16, Luke 11:33) Our duty is to reflect the truth of the good news of Christ for all to see, not to hide it. Consider this most tender and profound truth: The Most High God did not conceal His wondrous Gospel from us, awaiting our hesitant steps. No, He came to us. When we were yet strangers and far off, Christ descended from the heavenly glory and sought us out in our despair. We did not come to Him first; He came to us. And thus, it is a solemn certainty and a pressing burden upon my soul: The unsaved multitudes will not, of their own accord, flock to our doors. We must, therefore, in humble imitation of our Lord, rise and go forth to them. Let us carry the glorious light of Christ into the very darkness where we once dwelt, and tell our fellow beggars that Christ hath unlocked the door of our prison, and is offering us true freedom, true reconciliation with God, true righteousness, true bread, and true peace.

Let no man dare bind us where the Word of God has left us free.

In our systematic study through the blessed life of our Christ, our text fell at a most timely and piercing illustration, straight from the Savior’s own lips, recorded in the thirteenth chapter of the Book of Luke. 

The Narrow Door (Luke 13:22-30).

It rings forth a most vital directive—a spiritual command of infinite consequence. We are not merely asked to lightly approach, but to strive and to agonize—to pour out every ounce of spiritual strength and effort that lies within us—that we might enter in through that straitened door. For, the Master of the House will most surely soon rise up. There is a coming hour when, all the appointed guests being safely gathered within the fold, He shall shut the door, after which no man can ever open again. (Revelation 3:7) And then, alas, those poor souls standing on the outside—who in that moment will finally desire entrance—will find that their fervent knocking and their piteous cries are all in vain. The time for striving shall be past, and they shall be eternally shut out from the blessed presence within. 

This image of the shut door does indeed paint for us a truth so tangible and so terrifying. It lays bare the dreadful reality of the soul that has delayed and sought the Redeemer only when the hour of grace is forever past. What unimaginable horror. To stand, finally, before the awful Judgment Seat of Christ Himself. To at last, comprehend the full measure of wasted opportunities. To yearn, in that irreversible moment, to undo the negligence and to change the wicked courses of action that were so carelessly pursued during the days of your mortal pilgrimage. The time for amendment is gone, the season for repentance is closed. You cannot change one jot or tittle of your life once the final summons has sounded. May this deepest terror awaken every soul that slumbers in their sin, and professes a comfortable and belittling view of Christ, lest they face the divine Judge with nothing but the ashes of regret. Knowing therefore, the terror of the Lord, we desperately strive to persuade men: be reconciled to God through Jesus Christ. (2 Corinthians 5:11, 20)

If we have yet to see with our eyes, to hear with our ears, and to conceive with our hearts, the things that God hath prepared for those who love Him—we have also yet to see with our eyes, to hear with our ears, and to conceive with our hearts, the terror that God hath prepared for those who hate Him.

Holy Writ hath made abundantly clear to us. The very pages of Scripture attest to a fearful possibility: that a man's spiritual eyes may finally be opened to what is right and just, only to find that it is tragically too late for his soul to find its anchor in salvation! There is a coming day—a dreadful reckoning—when the scales shall fall from the eyes of many, and they shall begin to see the terrible necessity of the Lord's Grace. But alas, for these souls, they shall repent too late, they shall stretch forth their hand to believe too late, their lips shall utter a plea for prayer too late, they shall earnestly seek salvation too late, and their desperate hearts shall finally desire God too late! May the Lord grant us the grace to heed this warning, lest we miss the appointed season and find ourselves weeping outside the door of mercy!

The Judgment of the Almighty is sweeping like a terrible, cleansing wind across the face of our very nation. Every coffin borne upon the street, every funeral procession we observe, stands as a stark, silent witness to the fact that the wages of sin are being exacted right before our very eyes!

Yet, amidst this sorrowful panorama, Praise God! The Kingdom of Heaven is not in retreat! It is powerfully marching forward! Through the miraculous power of the Holy Spirit, the Kingdom advances by the Gospel witness of every faithful believer—that one who, like a prophet of old, raises his voice as a trumpet above the rooftops. It is our duty to stand between the gap, and sound a clear and certain warning of the impending and sure doom that will violently sweep the soul that remains stubbornly unrepentant.

But our message does not end in despair. Nay! We must also issue the gracious call to repent and to believe in that only Name—the blessed Name of Jesus Christ—which is given for the salvation of all men who are appointed to be saved! It is a dual labor: the warning of the coming Judgement, and the pointing to the Ark of Salvation.