J.C. Ryle
“Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” —Matthew 11:28.
Let us consider the promise held out: “I will give you rest.”
Rest is a pleasant thing, and a thing that all seek after. The merchant, the banker, the tradesman, the soldier, the lawyer, the farmer, all look forward to the day when they shall be able to rest. But how few can find rest in this world! How many pass their lives in seeking it, and never seem able to reach it! It seems very near sometimes, and they fancy it will soon be their own. Some new event happens, and they are as far off rest as ever.
The whole world is full of restlessness and disappointment, weariness and emptiness. The very faces of worldly men let out the secret; their countenances give evidence that the Bible is true; they find no rest. “Vanity and vexation of spirit” is the true report of all here below. “Who will show us any good?” is the bitter confession of many now, just as in David’s time.
Take warning, young men and women. Think not that happiness is to be found in any earthly thing. You do not have to learn this by bitter experience. Realise it while young, and do not waste your time in hewing out “cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water.”
But Jesus offers rest to all who will come to Him.
“Come unto Me,” he says, “and I will give you rest.”
He will give it. He will not SELL it, as the Pharisee supposes—so much rest and peace in return for so many good works. He gives it freely to every coming sinner, without money and without price. He will not LEND, as the Arminian supposes, so much peace and rest, all to be taken away by-and-by if we do not please Him; He gives it for ever and for ever. His gifts are “without repentance.”
“But what kind of rest will Jesus give me?” some men will say. “He will not give me freedom from labour and trouble. What kind of rest will He give?” Listen a few minutes, and I will tell you.
He will give you rest from fear of sin. The sins of the man who comes to Christ are completely taken away; they are forgiven, pardoned, removed, blotted out. They can no longer appear in condemnation against him. They are sunk in the depths of the sea.
Ah! brethren, that is rest.
He will give you rest from fear of the law. The law has no further claim on the man who has come to Christ.
Its debts are all paid; its requirements are all satisfied. Christ is the end of the law for righteousness. Christ has redeemed us from the curse of law. “Who shall lay anything to the charge of God’s elect in the day of Judgment?” No believer can run his eye over the fifth chapter of Matthew, and not feel comforted. And that is rest.
He will give you rest from fear of hell. Hell cannot touch the man who has come to Christ. The punishment has been borne, the pain and suffering have been undergone by another, and he is free. And that, too, is rest.
He will give you rest from fear of the devil. The devil is mighty, but he cannot touch those who have some to Christ. Their Redeemer is strong. He will set a hedge around them that Satan cannot overthrow. He may sift and buffet and vex, but he cannot destroy such. And that, too, is rest.
He will give you rest from fear of death. The sting of death is taken away when a man comes to Christ.
Jesus has overcome death, and it is a conquered enemy.
The grave loses half its terrors when we think it is “the place where the Lord lay.” The believer’s soul is safe whatever happens to his body. His flesh rests in hope. This also is rest.
He will give you rest in the storm of affliction. He will comfort you with comfort the world knows nothing of. He will cheer your heart, and sustain your fainting spirit. He will enable you to bear loss patiently, and to hold your peace in the day of wrath. Oh! this is rest indeed.
I know well, brethren, that believers do not enjoy so much rest as they might. I know well that they “bring a bad report of the land,” and live below their privileges. It is their unbelief; it is their indwelling sin. There was a well near Hagar, but she never saw it. There was safety for Peter on the water, but he did not look to Jesus, and was afraid. And just so it is with many believers: they give way to needless fear—are straitened in themselves.
But still there is a real rest and peace in Christ for all who come to Him. The man that fled to the city of refuge was safe when once within the walls, though perhaps at first he hardly believed it; and so it is with the believer.
And, after all, the most downcast and complaining child of God has got a something within him he would not exchange for all the world. I never met with one, however low and desponding, who would consent to part with the rest and peace he had, however small. Like Naboth he prizes his little vineyard like a kingdom. And this shows me that coming to Christ can give rest.
Be advised, every one of you who is now seeking rest in the world. Be advised, and come and seek rest in Christ. You have no home, no refuge, no hiding-place, no portion. Sickness and death will soon be upon you, and you are unprepared. Be advised, and seek rest in Christ. There is enough in Him and to spare. Who has tried and did not find? A dying Welsh boy said, in broken English, “Jesus Christ plenty for everybody.” Know your privileges, all you who have come to Christ. You have something solid under foot and something firm under hand. You have a rest even now, and you shall have more abundantly.
Let me speak to those who have not yet come to Christ.
Why do you not come? What possible reason can you give? What excuse can you show for your present conduct?
Will you tell me you have no need? What! no sin to be pardoned—no iniquity to be covered over! There is no state so bad as that of utter insensibility. Beware, lest you only awake to hear the word “Depart.”
Will you tell me you are happy without Christ?
I do not believe you. I know you are not. You dare not look into your heart,—you dare not search your conscience. It is the happiness of a tradesman who is bankrupt and does not look at his books. There is no happiness out of Christ.
Take heed. Every morning you are in awful danger. You stand on the brink of hell. Let a fever, an accident, an attack of disease carry you off, and you are lost for ever. Oh! take the warning. Escape for your life. Flee, flee to Christ!
Let me speak to those who have not come to Christ, but mean to some day. I marvel at your presumption. Who are you, that talk of meaning? You may be dead in a week. Who are you that talk of meaning? You may never have the will or opportunity, if not to-day. How long will you go on halting between two opinions? You must come to Christ some time—some day; why not now? The longer you stay away, the less chance there is of your coming at all; and the less happiness will you have in the world.
“Take heed, therefore, lest, a promise being left us of entering into His rest, any of you should seem to come short of it.”
Many meant to have come in the robes, but put it off till too late. If like the Levite you put off your journey till late in the day, you must not wonder if the sun has gone down when you are far from home. Come now.
Let me speak to those who have come to Christ indeed.
You are often cast down and disquieted within you. And why? Just because you do not abide in Christ and seek all rest and peace in Him. You wander from the fold: no wonder you return weary, footsore, and tired. Come again to the Lord Jesus and renew the covenant. Believe me, if you live to be as old as Methuselah, you will never get beyond this: a sinner saved by the grace of Christ. And think of the sinner’s end.
Rest in Christ, and so rest indeed.
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