“Sinner, don’t you hear how He knocks? He knocks at your common sense, and says, ‘Come, and let us reason together!’ He knocks at your feelings, tells you of His sufferings, agony, and death, and says, ‘I suffered this for you!’ He knocks at your hopes; He tells you of peace and victory, of immortality and life. ‘There’s a heaven for you, only let Me in!’ He knocks at your fears, and tells you, weeping as He speaks, of the undying worm and the unquenchable fire. And all the while He pleads, and calls, and prays, and entreats, ‘Poor sinner, let Me in!’
“Sinner, don’t you hear His voice? Listen to your own conscience. That’s His voice; what does it say? Listen! It says, ‘Open the door!’ Hark to His ministers; they’re His voice. They give knock after knock, message after message, with a ‘thus saith the Lord’ Can anybody knock louder or call more tenderly than the good men who come here to say, as they do say with tears, for their Master’s sake, ‘Poor sinner, let Him in?’ Listen to your mercies; they’re His voice. If you count them they are more in number than the hairs of your head. Listen to your troubles; they’re His voice, and bid you ask Jesus in to cure them. I tell you the knockings and the voices are always at it; and Jesus is speaking through them all, as He sees your sad and desperate condition—‘Poor sinner, open the door and let Me in!’
“The wonder of it is that He waits so patient and so long. He won’t break in. It’s your house, and you can do as you like. You have liked for years to keep the devil and the world in, and you’ve had your way. If you want them turned out, it can soon be done, only give Him liberty. No, He won’t break in, but He will wait. Why, He has been waiting for some of you for twenty, thirty, or forty years, and more. It seems as though His love can’t be tired. Sometimes you nearly gave way, and put your hand on the latch; but the good impression passed away. You turned from the door, took your seat again to warm yourself by your besetting sin; and Jesus, what did He do? He listened, sighed, and wept, and waited still. Oh, how long He stands! You would not wait long if you had come to offer anybody a favour. No; you would say, ‘If they don’t want it, let them go without it.’ Oh, thank God, that Jesus doesn’t! Sinner, He has been waiting through your merry youth, waiting all along your mis-spent manhood, and now, when your back is bending, and your hair is turning grey, and you are going graveward into the shadow of death, the loving Saviour is waiting still. Hark to Him: ‘O, Ephraim, how shall I give thee up! Open to me, my beloved, for my head is filled with dew, and my locks are wet with the drops of the night! The time is very short. Sinner! poor sinner, let Me in!’
“If you’ll only admit Him, He will be a glorious and welcome guest. He says, ‘I will come into him, and sup with him, and he with me.’ It is true the heaven of heavens cannot contain Him, yet He will dwell in a humble and contrite heart, aye, and bring heaven with Him, too. Is there a poor sinner here who says, ‘No, that cannot be; I wish He were in my heart, but there’s no room; my heart is full of guests, and, alas! they have become my masters, and I’m their slave?’ Still Christ says, ‘Never mind their numbers or their power. Open the door; I will first bind the strong man, and then expel him to make joyful room for thee and Me.’
“But maybe the poor sinner is saying, ‘It can’t be, Lord, for even if Thy enemies were gone, the chamber is so dirty, and the place so filthy and unclean, that there is no place for Thy pure presence.’ ‘Never mind,’ says Jesus; ‘open the door! I will not only thrust out the tyrants, but I will wash thy heart in the fountain of My precious blood. I will purge thee with hyssop, and thou shalt be clean. I will wash thee, and thou shalt be whiter than snow.’
“Here again the poor sorrowing sinner says, ‘Yes, Lord; come in, but not to sup with me, not to sit at my table. I have nothing to set before Thee. I myself am hungry, but I have no bread.’ Still the Saviour says, ‘Never mind; open the door! I will bring the bread; I will spread the feast; I will do everything for thee; only open the door and let Me in!’ O, my brothers, my sisters, all He wants is a willing heart; an open door; an honest invitation! Give it Him now, just now. Say, ‘Come in, my Lord, come in!’ Hark! ‘I will come in, never more to leave thee, alike when skies are shining and clouds are frowning. I’ll fill thee for ever with peace and joy. Thou shalt go to the grave rejoicing, through the river of death with a song, into the home of glory, the mansions of the blest.’ Then He will say, ‘Thou didst open thy heart to Me; I will open My house to thee. Thou didst take Me for thy guest, now thou shalt sit at My table.’ The Guest of earth becomes the Host in heaven, and all who give the Saviour welcome here are sure of a glorious welcome yonder.
“But if you persist in your refusal to open the door, He will one day go away. ‘I stand,’ He says; He does not sit. Maybe from some of you He is already turning away. If He goes, you are lost. Oh, stop Him; open the door! Remember, Death is waiting as well as Jesus. Waiting, not for your hand to open, but for the bidding of the Saviour to break in. Then, Jesus has gone; then you will knock, but all in vain. You will pass through another door. It shall be shut upon you by the hand of Him who so long tried the latch of yours, and when He shuts no man can open. But, thank God, sinner,—
‘He now stands knocking at the door
Of every sinner’s heart;