"Who is He? Is He a beggar come to ask for money?"
"No, He is no beggar; for if you look you will see that His hands are full of presents for the one inside the house."
"Is He a rent collector come to demand that which is due to Him? No; for although the house really belongs to Him, He demands nothing, He only pleads for an entrance."
"Is He an enemy to the one inside? No; He is, on the contrary, his best friend, the One to whom he owes everything."
"What a strange thing that He is kept outside!"
"Is it a strange thing?" said the minister, looking earnestly at all the people. "Is it a strange thing? Then get up at once and let Him in, for it is at your door He is knocking."
"My door!" you say. "My door! What do you mean? No one is knocking at my door."
"No one? Oh, my friends! Did you hear no knock this morning at your door—your heart's door. When the neighbours came in and told you that one in that house, whom you had seen well and strong a few hours before, was now in eternity—oh, my friends! Was it not a knock?"
"Did not the Lord Jesus, your best Friend, knock then? Did He not call as well as knock? Did you not hear Him saying, 'Are you ready to die? Oh, let Me in before it is too late!'"
"That was a very loud knock, my friends; but it is not the only time He has knocked. Day after day, week after week, year after year, ever since you were little children, He has been knocking and waiting, and knocking and waiting for you to let Him in. That night when you were so ill, and the doctor told you that you might never get better, was He not knocking then?"