On
the morning of October 23, 1879, about two o'clock, the Spirit of the
Lord rested upon me, and I beheld scenes in the coming judgment.
Language fails me in which to give an adequate description of the things
which passed before me and of the effect they had upon my mind.
The
great day of the execution of God's judgment seemed to have come. Ten
thousand times ten thousand were assembled before a large throne, upon
which was seated a person of majestic appearance. Several books were
before Him, and upon the covers of each was written in letters of gold,
which seemed like a burning flame of fire: “Ledger of Heaven.” One of
these books, containing the names of those who claim to believe the
truth, was then opened. Immediately I lost sight of the countless
millions about the throne, and only those who were professedly children
of the light and of the truth engaged my attention. As these persons
were named, one by one, and their good deeds mentioned, their
countenances would light up with a holy joy that was reflected in every
direction. But this did not seem to rest upon my mind with the greatest
force.
Another book was opened, wherein were recorded the sins
of those who profess the truth. Under the general heading of
selfishness came every other sin. There were also headings over every
column, and underneath these, opposite each name, were recorded, in
their respective columns, the lesser sins.
Under
covetousness came falsehood, theft, robbery, fraud, and avarice; under
ambition came pride and extravagance; jealousy stood at the head of
malice, envy, and hatred; and intemperance headed a long list of fearful
crimes, such as lasciviousness, adultery, indulgence of animal
passions, etc. As I beheld I was filled with inexpressible anguish and
exclaimed: “Who can be saved? who will stand justified before God? whose
robes are spotless? who are faultless in the sight of a pure and holy
God?”
As
the Holy One upon the throne slowly turned the leaves of the ledger,
and His eyes rested for a moment upon individuals, His glance seemed to
burn into their very souls, and at the same moment every word and action
of their lives passed before their minds as clearly as though traced
before their vision in letters of fire. Trembling seized them, and their
faces turned pale. Their first appearance when around the throne was
that of careless indifference. But how changed their appearance now! The
feeling of security is gone, and in its place is a nameless terror. A
dread is upon every soul, lest he shall be found among those who are
wanting. Every eye is riveted upon the face of the One upon the throne;
and as His solemn, searching eye sweeps over that company, there is a
quaking of heart; for they are self-condemned without one word being
uttered. In anguish of soul each declares his own guilt and with
terrible vividness sees that by sinning he has thrown away the precious
boon of eternal life.
One
class were registered as cumberers of the ground. As the piercing eye
of the Judge rested upon these, their sins of neglect were distinctly
revealed. With pale, quivering lips they acknowledged that they had been
traitors to their holy trust. They had had warnings and privileges, but
they had not heeded nor improved them. They could now see that they had
presumed too much upon the mercy of God. True, they had not such
confessions to make as had the vile and basely corrupt; but, like the
fig tree, they were cursed because they bore no fruit, because they had
not put to use the talents entrusted to them.
This class had made self
supreme, laboring only for selfish interests. They were not rich toward
God, not having responded to His claims upon them. Although professing
to be servants of Christ, they brought no souls to Him. Had the cause of
God been dependent on their efforts, it would have languished; for they
not only withheld the means lent them of God, but they withheld
themselves. But these could now see and feel that in occupying an
irresponsible position in reference to the work and cause of God they
had placed themselves on the left hand. They had had opportunity, but
would not do the work that they could and should have done.
The
names of all who profess the truth were mentioned. Some were reproved
for their unbelief, others for having been slothful servants. They had
allowed others to do the work in the Master's vineyard, and to bear the
heaviest responsibilities, while they were selfishly serving their own
temporal interests. Had they cultivated the abilities God had given
them, they could have been reliable burden bearers, working for the
interest of the Master. Said the Judge: “All will be justified by their
faith and judged by their works.” How vividly then appeared their
neglect, and how wise the arrangement of God in giving to every man a
work to do to promote the cause and save his fellow men. Each was to
demonstrate a living faith in his family and in his neighborhood, by
showing kindness to the poor, sympathizing with the afflicted, engaging
in missionary labor, and by aiding the cause of God with his means. But,
like Meroz, the curse of God rested upon them for what they had not
done. They had loved that work which would bring the greatest profit in
this life; and opposite their names in the ledger devoted to good works
there was a mournful blank.
The
words spoken to these were most solemn: “You are weighed in the
balances, and found wanting. You have neglected spiritual
responsibilities because of busy activity in temporal matters, while
your very position of trust made it necessary that you should have more
than human wisdom and greater than finite judgment. This you needed in
order to perform even the mechanical part of your labor; and when you
disconnected God and His glory from your business, you turned from His
blessing.”
The
question was then asked: “Why have you not washed your robes of
character and made them white in the blood of the Lamb? God sent His Son
into the world, not to condemn the world, but that through Him it might
be saved. My love for you has been more self-denying than a mother's
love. It was that I might blot out your dark record of iniquity, and put
the cup of salvation to your lips, that I suffered the death of the
cross, bearing the weight and curse of your guilt. The pangs of death,
and the horrors of the darkness of the tomb, I endured, that I might
conquer him who had the power of death, unbar the prison house, and open
for you the gates of life. I submitted to shame and agony because I
loved you with an infinite love, and would bring back my wayward,
wandering sheep to the paradise of God, to the tree of life. That life
of bliss which I purchased for you at such a cost, you have disregarded.
Shame, reproach, and ignominy, such as your Master bore for you, you
have shunned. The privileges He died to bring within your reach have not
been appreciated. You would not be partaker of His sufferings, and you
cannot now be partaker with Him of His glory.” Then were uttered these
solemn words: “He that is unjust, let him be unjust still: and he which
is filthy, let him be filthy still: and he that is righteous, let him be
righteous still: and he that is holy, let him be holy still.” The book
then closed, and the mantle fell from the Person on the throne,
revealing the terrible glory of the Son of God.
The
scene then passed away, and I found myself still upon the earth,
inexpressibly grateful that the day of God had not yet come, and that
precious probationary time is still granted us in which to prepare for
eternity. Testimonies for the Church, Vol 4, pp. 384-387
