Put a ring on his hand. - Luke
xv: 22.
I will not rehearse the familiar story
of the fast young man of the parable. You know
what a splendid home he left. You know what a
hard time he had. And you remember how after
that season of vagabondage and prodigality he resolved
to go and weep out his sorrows on the bosom of parental
forgiveness. Well, there is great excitement one
day in front of the door of the old farmhouse.
The servants come rushing up and say: “What’s
the matter? What is the matter?”
But before they quite arrive, the old man cries out:
“Put a ring on his hand.” What a
seeming absurdity! What can such a wretched mendicant
as this fellow that is tramping on toward the house
want with a ring? Oh, he is the prodigal son.
No more tending of the swine-trough. No more longing
for the pods of the carob-tree. No more blistered
feet. Off with the rags! On with the robe!
Out with the ring! Even so does God receive every
one of us when we come back. There are gold rings,
and pearl rings, and carnelian rings, and diamond
rings; but the richest ring that ever flashed on the
vision is that which our Father puts upon a forgiven
soul.
I know that the impression is abroad
among some people that religion bemeans and belittles
a man; that it takes all the sparkle out of his soul;
that he has to exchange a roistering independence for
an ecclesiastical strait-jacket. Not so.
When a man becomes a Christian, he does not go down,
he starts upward. Religion multiplies one by ten
thousand. Nay, the multiplier is in infinity.
It is not a blotting out it is a polishing,
it is an arborescence, it is an efflorescence, it
is an irradiation. When a man comes into the kingdom
of God he is not sent into a menial service, but the
Lord God Almighty from the palaces of heaven calls
upon the messenger angels that wait upon the throne
to fly and “put a ring on his hand.”
In Christ are the largest liberty, and brightest joy,
and highest honor, and richest adornment. “Put
a ring on his hand.”
I remark, in the first place, that
when Christ receives a soul into His love, He puts
upon him the ring of adoption. Eight or ten years
ago, in my church in Philadelphia, there came the representative
of the Howard Mission of New York. He brought
with him eight or ten children of the street that
he had picked up, and he was trying to find for them
Christian homes; and as the little ones stood on the
pulpit and sung, our hearts melted within us.
At the close of the services a great-hearted wealthy
man came up and said: “I’ll take this
little bright-eyed girl, and I’ll adopt her as
one of my own children;” and he took her by
the hand, lifted her into his carriage, and went away.
The next day, while we were in the
church gathering up garments for the poor of New York,
this little child came back with a bundle under her
arm, and she said: “There’s my old
dress; perhaps some of the poor children would like
to have it,” while she herself was in bright
and beautiful array, and those who more immediately
examined her said that she had a ring on her hand.
It was a ring of adoption.
There are a great many persons who
pride themselves on their ancestry, and they glory
over the royal blood that pours through their arteries.
In their line there was a lord, or a duke, or a prime
minister, or a king. But when the Lord, our Father,
puts upon us the ring of His adoption, we become the
children of the Ruler of all nations. “Behold
what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us,
that we should be called the sons of God.”
It matters not how poor our garments may be in this
world, or how scant our bread, or how mean the hut
we live in, if we have that ring of Christ’s
adoption upon our hand we are assured of eternal defenses.
Adopted! Why, then, we are brothers
and sisters to all the good of earth and heaven.
We have the family name, the family dress, the family
keys, the family wardrobe. The Father looks after
us, robes us, defends us, blesses us. We have
royal blood in our veins, and there are crowns in
our line. If we are His children, then princes
and princesses. It is only a question of time
when we get our coronet. Adopted! Then we
have the family secrets. “The secret of
the Lord is with them that fear Him.” Adopted!
Then we have the family inheritance, and in the day
when our Father shall divide the riches of heaven
we shall take our share of the mansions and palaces
and temples. Henceforth let us boast no more
of an earthly ancestry. The insignia of eternal
glory is our coat of arms. This ring of adoption
puts upon us all honor and all privilege. Now
we can take the words of Charles Wesley, that prince
of hymn-makers, and sing:
“Come, let us join our
friends above,
Who have obtained
the prize,
And on the eagle wings of
love
To joy celestial
rise.
“Let all the saints
terrestrial sing
With those to
glory gone;
For all the servants of our
King,
In heaven and
earth, are one.”
I have been told that when any of
the members of any of the great secret societies of
this country are in a distant city and are in any
kind of trouble, and are set upon by enemies, they
have only to give a certain signal and the members
of that organization will flock around for defense.
And when any man belongs to this great Christian brotherhood,
if he gets in trouble, in trial, in persecution, in
temptation, he has only to show this ring of Christ’s
adoption, and all the armed cohorts of heaven will
come to his rescue.
Still further, when Christ takes a
soul into His love He puts upon it a marriage-ring.
Now, that is not a whim of mine: “And I
will betroth thee unto Me forever; yea, I will betroth
thee unto Me in righteousness, and in judgment, and
in loving-kindness, and in mercies.” (Hosea
ii: 19.) At the wedding altar the bridegroom puts
a ring upon the hand of the bride, signifying love
and faithfulness. Trouble may come upon the household,
and the carpets may go, the pictures may go, the piano
may go, everything else may go the last
thing that goes is that marriage-ring, for it is considered
sacred. In the burial hour it is withdrawn from
the hand and kept in a casket, and sometimes the box
is opened on an anniversary day, and as you look at
that ring you see under its arch a long procession
of precious memories. Within the golden circle
of that ring there is room for a thousand sweet recollections
to revolve, and you think of the great contrast between
the hour when, at the close of the “Wedding March,”
under the flashing lights and amid the aroma of orange-blossoms,
you set that ring on the round finger of the plump
hand, and that other hour when, at the close of the
exhaustive watching, when you knew that the soul had
fled, you took from the hand, which gave back no responsive
clasp, from that emaciated finger, the ring that she
had worn so long and worn so well.
On some anniversary day you take up
that ring, and you repolish it until all the old luster
comes back, and you can see in it the flash of eyes
that long ago ceased to weep. Oh, it is not an
unmeaning thing when I tell you that when Christ receives
a soul into His keeping He puts on it a marriage-ring.
He endows you from that moment with all His wealth.
You are one Christ and the soul one
in sympathy, one in affection, one in hope.
There is no power in earth or hell
to effect a divorcement after Christ and the soul
are united. Other kings have turned out their
companions when they got weary of them, and sent them
adrift from the palace gate. Ahasuerus banished
Vashti; Napoleon forsook Josephine; but Christ is
the husband that is true forever. Having loved
you once, He loves you to the end. Did they not
try to divorce Margaret, the Scotch girl, from Jesus?
They said: “You must give up your religion.”
She said: “I can’t give up my religion.”
And so they took her down to the beach of the sea,
and they drove in a stake at low-water mark, and they
fastened her to it, expecting that as the tide came
up her faith would fail. The tide began to rise,
and came up higher and higher, and to the girdle,
and to the lip, and in the last moment, just as the
wave was washing her soul into glory, she shouted the
praises of Jesus.
Oh, no, you can not separate a soul
from Christ! It is an everlasting marriage.
Battle and storm and darkness can not do it. Is
it too much exultation for a man, who is but dust
and ashes like myself, to cry out this morning:
“I am persuaded that neither height, nor depth,
nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present,
nor things to come, nor any other creature shall separate
me from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus my
Lord”? Glory be to God that when Christ
and the soul are married they are bound by a chain,
a golden chain if I might say so a
chain with one link, and that one link the golden ring
of God’s everlasting love.
I go a step further, and tell you
that when Christ receives a soul into His love He
puts on him the ring of festivity. You know that
it has been the custom in all ages to bestow rings
on very happy occasions. There is nothing more
appropriate for a birthday gift than a ring.
You delight to bestow such a gift upon your children
at such a time. It means joy, hilarity, festivity.
Well, when this old man of the text wanted to tell
how glad he was that his boy had got back, he expressed
it in this way. Actually, before he ordered sandals
to be put on his bare feet; before he ordered the
fatted calf to be killed to appease the boy’s
hunger, he commanded: “Put a ring on his
hand.”
Oh, it is a merry time when Christ
and the soul are united! Joy of forgiveness!
What a splendid thing it is to feel that all is right
between me and God. What a glorious thing it is
to have God just take up all the sins of my life and
put them in one bundle, and then fling them into the
depths of the sea, never to rise again, never to be
talked of again. Pollution all gone. Darkness
all illumined. God reconciled. The prodigal
home. “Put a ring on his hand.”
Every day I find happy Christian people.
I find some of them with no second coat, some of them
in huts and tenement houses, not one earthly comfort
afforded them; and yet they are as happy as happy can
be. They sing “Rock of Ages” as no
other people in the world sing it. They never
wore any jewelry in their life but one gold ring, and
that was the ring of God’s undying affection.
Oh, how happy religion makes us! Did it make
you gloomy and sad? Did you go with your head
cast down? I do not think you got religion, my
brother. That is not the effect of religion.
True religion is a joy. “Her ways are ways
of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.”
Why, religion lightens all our burdens.
It smooths all our way. It interprets all our
sorrows. It changes the jar of earthly discord
for the peal of festal bells. In front of the
flaming furnace of trial it sets the forge on which
scepters are hammered out. Would you not like
to-day to come up from the swine-feeding and try this
religion? All the joys of heaven would come out
and meet you, and God would cry from the throne:
“Put a ring on his hand.”
You are not happy. I see it.
There is no peace, and sometimes you laugh when you
feel a great deal more like crying. The world
is a cheat. It first wears you down with its
follies, then it kicks you out into darkness.
It comes back from the massacre of a million souls
to attempt the destruction of your soul to-day.
No peace out of God, but here is the fountain that
can slake the thirst. Here is the harbor where
you can drop safe anchorage.
Would you not like, I ask you not
perfunctorily, but as one brother might talk to another would
you not like to have a pillow of rest to put your
head on? And would you not like, when you retire
at night, to feel that all is well, whether you wake
up to-morrow morning at six o’clock, or sleep
the sleep that knows no waking? Would you not
like to exchange this awful uncertainty about the
future for a glorious assurance of heaven? Accept
of the Lord Jesus to-day, and all is well. If
on your way home some peril should cross the street
and dash your life out, it would not hurt you.
You would rise up immediately. You would stand
in the celestial streets. You would be amid the
great throng that forever worship and are forever
happy. If this day some sudden disease should
come upon you, it would not frighten you. If you
knew you were going you could give a calm farewell
to your beautiful home on earth, and know that you
are going right into the companionship of those who
have already got beyond the toiling and the weeping.
You feel on Saturday night different
from the way you feel any other night of the week.
You come home from the bank, or the store, or the
shop, and you say: “Well, now my week’s
work is done, and to-morrow is Sunday.”
It is a pleasant thought. There is refreshment
and reconstruction in the very idea. Oh, how
pleasant it will be, if, when we get through the day
of our life, and we go and lie down in our bed of
dust, we can realize: “Well, now the work
is all done, and to-morrow is Sunday an
everlasting Sunday.”
“Oh, when, thou city
of my God,
Shall I thy courts
ascend?
Where congregations ne’er
break up,
And Sabbaths have
no end.”
There are people in this house to-day
who are very near the eternal world. If you are
Christians, I bid you be of good cheer. Bear with
you our congratulations to the bright city. Aged
men, who will soon be gone, take with you our love
for our kindred in the better land, and when you see
them, tell them that we are soon coming. Only
a few more sermons to preach and hear. Only a
few more heart-aches. Only a few more toils.
Only a few more tears. And then what
an entrancing spectacle will open before us!
“Beautiful heaven, where
all is light,
Beautiful angels clothed in
white,
Beautiful strains that never
tire,
Beautiful harps through all
the choir;
There shall I join the chorus
sweet,
Worshiping at the Saviour’s
feet.”
I stand before you on this Sabbath,
the last Sabbath preceding the great feast-day in
this Church. On the next Lord’s-day the
door of communion will be open, and you will all be
invited to come in. And so I approach you now
with a general invitation, not picking out here and
there a man, or here and there a woman, or here and
there a child; but giving you an unlimited invitation,
saying: “Come, for all things are now ready.”
We invite you to the warm heart of Christ, and the
inclosure of the Christian Church. I know a great
many think that the Church does not amount to much that
it is obsolete; that it did its work and is gone now,
so far as all usefulness is concerned. It is the
happiest place I have ever been in except my own home.
I know there are some people who say
they are Christians who seem to get along without
any help from others, and who culture solitary piety.
They do not want any ordinances. I do not belong
to that class. I can not get along without them.
There are so many things in this world that take my
attention from God, and Christ, and heaven, that I
want all the helps of all the symbols and of all the
Christian associations; and I want around about me
a solid phalanx of men who love God and keep His commandments.
Are there any here who would like to enter into that
association? Then by a simple, child-like faith,
apply for admission into the visible Church, and you
will be received. No questions asked about your
past history or present surroundings. Only one
test do you love Jesus?
Baptism does not amount to anything,
say a great many people; but the Lord Jesus declared,
“He that believeth and is baptized shall be
saved,” putting baptism and faith side by side.
And an apostle declares, “Repent and be baptized,
every one of you.” I do not stickle for
any particular mode of baptism, but I put great emphasis
on the fact that you ought to be baptized. Yet
no more emphasis than the Lord Jesus Christ, the Great
Head of the Church, puts upon it.
The world is going to lose a great
many of its votaries next Sabbath. We give you
warning. There is a great host coming in to stand
under the banner of the Lord Jesus Christ. Will
you be among them? It is going to be a great
harvest-day. Will you be among the gathered sheaves?
Some of you have been thinking on
this subject year after year. You have found
out that this world is a poor portion. You want
to be Christians. You have come almost into the
kingdom of God; but there you stop, forgetful of the
fact that to be almost saved is not to be saved at
all. Oh, my brother, after having come so near
to the door of mercy, if you turn back, you will never
come at all. After all you have heard of the
goodness of God, if you turn away and die, it will
not be because you did not have a good offer.
“God’s spirit
will not always strive
With hardened,
self-destroying man;
Ye who persist His love to
grieve
May never hear
his voice again.”
May God Almighty this hour move upon
your soul and bring you back from the husks of the
wilderness to the Father’s house, and set you
at the banquet, and “put a ring on your hand.”