Not Far From The Kingdom Of God

“And as he was going forth into the way, there ran one to him, and kneeled to him, and asked him, Good Teacher, what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life? And Jesus said unto him, Why callest thou me good? None is good save one, even God. Thou knowest the commandments, Do not kill, Do not commit adultery, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Do not defraud, Honour thy father and mother. And he said unto him, Teacher, all these things have I observed from my youth. And Jesus looking upon him loved him, and said unto him, One thing thou lackest: go, sell whatsoever thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come, follow me. But his countenance fell at the saying, and he went away sorrowful: for he was one that had great possessions.”—Mark 10:17–22 R.V.

“And one of the scribes came, and heard them question together, and knowing that he had answered them well, asked him, What commandment is the first of all? Jesus answered, The first is, Hear, O Israel; The Lord our God is one Lord; and thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength. The second is this, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these. And the young man said unto him, Well, Master, thou hast said truth; for to love God with all thy heart, and with all thy strength, and to love his neighbor as himself, is more than whole burnt offerings and sacrifices. And when Jesus saw that he answered discreetly, he said unto him, Thou are not far from the kingdom of God.”—Mark 12:28–34

I call your attention to two sentences, one taken out of the first narrative and the other from the second: “One thing thou lackest”—“Thou are not far from the kingdom of God.”

I am not concerned whether these two young men I have read about are the same young men or not; I am not interested, for the moment, as to whether these are two accounts of different young men or of the same young man at different times, but I am going to take those two stories and make a composite picture out of them and weave them into one and draw from those two stories this great truth,—“Thou art not far from the kingdom of God.”

There are times when it is necessary, in order to get the full truth of the Bible, to group together, as I have done in these two instances, passages of Scripture. For example, whenever you have leisure to read the Gospel of Luke, I would draw your attention to three strange, related incidents:

The first is in the house of Simon, the Pharisee. He invited Jesus to dine with him, and, as they were dining and reclining at the table, a woman who was a sinner—a bad woman of the town, whom everybody knew, found her way into the house and came to the feet of Jesus and began to weep there and to wash His feet with her tears and to wipe them with the hair of her head. Everybody knew this woman that she was a bad woman, and Simon the Pharisee, looked at the scene and said, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known what manner of woman this is that toucheth him, for she is a sinner. He does not know, if He did, He never would have let that sinner touch Him.”

In the 15th chapter of Luke, these are the opening words: “Then drew near all the publicans and sinners for to hear him, and the Scribes and Pharisees murmured and said, This man receiveth unto Himself sinners, and eateth with them.” Then he told them that three-fold parable of “The Lost Sheep,” “The Lost Coin,” and “The Lost Son.”

The next instance is in the 19th chapter, “As Jesus was passing through Jericho, there was a man named Zacchaeus, who was short of stature, who was very desirous of seeing Jesus.” He was a publican, that is, he was of the despised, villainous, dishonest craft among the Jews. He was so desirous of seeing Jesus that he climbed into a tree. Jesus saw him and asked him to come down from the tree and went with this sinful man into his house. And when the Pharisees saw it, they marveled and said, He had gone to be a guest with a man that was a sinner.”

Before you can catch the drift of thought in the minds of those Pharisees against the Christ, you must group these narratives together, and you will see that their minds were so blighted and dwarfed that they thought nobody could touch pitch and not be defiled; that Jesus could not go into that man’s house; could not let that woman touch Him without being defiled by it. Jesus, in these stories, showed the great, wonderful truth that He could be near to a man and, instead of contracting a man’s sins, lift that man up and give him His righteousness.

Oh yes, He saw that woman. He knew what manner of woman she used to be; but that woman had met Jesus before she crossed the threshold of that Pharisee’s house. She would never have gone into his house if Jesus had not been there. You may reckon on that. She knew what kind of a reception she would get from that cold-hearted Pharisee. She went because she had met Jesus, and her tears were tears of gratitude: he had forgiven her many sins.

“And Jesus answering said unto Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee, Seest thou this woman? You think I do not know. You do not understand that instead of being defiled by her sin, I have sent over to her my righteousness. I see her as she is—saved.”

Why they thought, when He went into the house with Zacchaeus who was a robber and a thief, that therefore Jesus must be contaminated; but, when Zacchaeus came out of the house, he stood before the people and said, “Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor, and if I have taken anything from any man wrongfully, I restore it fourfold.” That man caught the honesty of Jesus; he caught the infection of holiness instead of Jesus catching the infection of sin.

And you will never understand the wonderful power that Jesus has to get next to a man and yet keep Himself far from him, and lift that man up to Him until you get those three stories together.

The same is true of this narrative that brings before us the great question, How near a man can be to being a Christian and yet not be one. It is a wonderful story, when you have leisure read it. It is in the tenth and twelfth chapters of Mark.

The critics are surrounding the Christ, and they are asking Him all kinds of questions about marriage and about divorce, and about the resurrection and whether we shall know our loved ones in heaven; family questions, questions of taxes to Caesar, questions about children and all kinds of questions. Then over there, in the distance, is a runner, a young man. He is in haste, he is running. You see him as he comes nearer; you see his dress,—He is a nobleman, he is wealthy, he was raised in the lap of luxury, his dress betokens that he is a ruler of the Jews. He came from the Sanhedrin, the great Jewish Council. The crowd separates as they see this magnificent noble young man. I see him now, not as artists saw him, the rich young ruler standing in front of the Christ. He was not standing. He came and fell on his knees and looked up into the face of the Christ and said, “Teacher, teacher, there is something lacking in my life. What is it that I lack? What shall I do to inherit eternal life?”

I tell you, in my judgment, that is the most wonderful picture in the bible. The artist has not caught that picture yet. I have not seen the picture of the young ruler kneeling in the dusty streets of that Judean city. I think it is a wonderful picture. It is more wonderful to me than the picture of Christ saving the dying thief or the harlot. It is a great thing for Christ to save a man from the depth of sin and lift him up. He does that, as I have read in these two narratives of that lost woman and that lost man. That is a wonderful thing, but something more wonderful than that is when Christ takes nobility and selfish education and luxury and the magnificence of human life and compels it into His service. This is the glory of the kingdom of God, that the kings do bring their glory and their wealth into it. Here is the picture of a splendid, noble young man, seeking to know the way of eternal life. It is a wonderful picture, and I have sometimes thought that the church is making a great mistake. She is afraid to bid for the millionaire; she is afraid to bid for the soul of a banker, for the soul of a man at the head of a corporation, for the big, big men of big affairs. There is danger of the church becoming one great big Salvation Army in seeking the lost only among the down and outs instead of bidding for the lost among them that are up on the top.

I like that story for that reason. It is a wonderful picture. Jesus gives him an answer, and I like the answer of the Master. In the first place I notice this: The text says that Jesus looked at him and loved him. How can any one help but love to see a young man in the magnificence of his youth, with talent and powers and ability and elegance kneeling in front of the Christ and yielding himself to the service of Jesus Christ the Lord.

I think one of the most wonderful pictures in the New Testament is the conversion of Saul of Tarsus. I wonder if you have ever seen it? I am reminded of the story in the Acts when Paul was arrested. He said, “Can I talk to these people before you put me in jail?”

They said, “Sure,” and they looked at him and said, “Canst thou talk Greek?”

He replied, “I was brought up at the university in Tarsus.”

At another time, when they were going to rush him into prison, he stood on the steps of the tower of Antonius and said, “May I talk to the Jews?” and he opened his mouth and talked Hebrew. And the text says, “When they saw that he talked Hebrew, they listened.” He was a Hebrew, brought up at the feet of Gamaliel, the greatest Jewish scholar that ever lived.

Then when they took him and intended to beat him, he said to the centurion, “It is lawful to beat a Roman?”

“What,” said the centurion, “are you a Roman?”

He said, “Yes.”

The centurion said, “With a great price obtained I this freedom.”

“But,” Paul said, “I was free born.”

“Paul, Greek—Hebrew—Roman! Greek culture; Hebrew passion for religion; Roman powerful world evangelization—all that for Christ! “Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?” That’s a picture, when the glory of man is laid at the feet of the Christ. That’s the picture in this text. It is not the picture of a down and out; it is the picture of the university man, of the college man, the man of wealth. That is what God wants.

I thought, as Mr. Rader was speaking this morning, as he read, “Separate me Barnabas and Paul for the work of foreign missions.” Why, Paul was the greatest scholar and the most wonderful man in the early church, but the Holy Ghost said, “Pick out the best man you can and send him to the foreign field.” Now, we usually send some other kind.

Jesus looked at him and loved him. I like that. Do you know some people think there is nothing nice or admirable in people who are not Christians? They believe in total depravity and in natural depravity and original sin to such an extent that they cannot see anything beautiful or admirable in a man that is not a Christian. Now, Jesus looked at this young fellow,—magnificent, noble, clean, moral, sweet, pure: and it says, “Jesus looked on him and loved him.” I like that. When I see a young man and a young woman of parts, of talents, of nobility, or magnificent presence, and yet not a Christian, I say in my soul, “Oh, I covet you for Christ.” It was the very magnificence of that young fellow that made Christ long to have him as His disciple.

There stood on the football field of the College of California a fine looking young fellow—six foot four, broad shoulders, weighing almost two hundred pounds. The coach of the football team came along and looked at this great big, magnificent chap and said, “You ought to make a whale of a football player. Why don’t you come into the game?” That coach was on the lookout for great big, broad-shouldered fellows, and, when he saw one, he longed to have him in his team. That young fellow went into the team and became a star player.

I say whenever a minister or a worker sees a magnificent young fellow or young woman, his heart out to cry out in envy for that man or woman to become a follower of Jesus Christ.

Now, that is the story. He looked at him, and He loved him, and He said to him, “You are almost a Christian; you are not far from being one. Thou art not far from the kingdom of God.” That is interesting. Then the kingdom of God has a definite boundary line that marks it off.

I was up in Canada some weeks ago, preaching in Winnipeg, and I thought I would cross over and visit my boy who had his first church in Dakota. He met me about thirty miles over the Canadian line, and we rode thirty miles into the United States. After we had ridden about thirty miles, we came to a wooden gate. He said, “Out here is the dividing line between Canada and the United States.” That was the line: one step there, Canada—British subjects; one step over the line, American citizen,—a clearly defined boundary line.

“Now,” said Jesus, “the kingdom of God has a definite and clear and decided boundary line. Now that is something to note in this narrative. Our Lord says that some men are further away from the kingdom of God than others; some a mile off, some just one step within the line—just one step, they are almost in.

This young fellow was not a thousand miles away—just a step. And I am looking into the faces of men and women in this church who are just a step away from being a Christian, and it is you I am after tonight.

Let us look at this man. He said, “What lack I yet?”

Jesus said, “You lack one thing.”

What was it he lacked? Well, he did not lack a knowledge of the Bible, of the Scriptures. He knew them. He knew them well for he said to Jesus, “Thou hast said truth, for to love God will all thy heart, and with all thy mind, and all thy strength, and thy neighbor as thyself is better than all burnt sacrifices and offerings.” He was quoting from Isaiah. He knew the Scriptures; he had studied them; he was ready with an answer; he knew the truth.

He was like a great many other people who know the Scriptures; they know their Bible; they can tell truth from error; they can tell whether a sermon is orthodox or heterdox; they know their catechism. You know your Scriptures, and that is a great thing to have been brought up in a home where the Scriptures are read, to have been sung to sleep by snatches of Christian hymns and the quotation of Bible verses is a wonderful thing. It brings a person near to the kingdom of God, and it is much easier to deal with a person who knows the way of life than it is with one who does not know.

I remember visiting the County Hospital, and I went from bed to bed in the ward, talking to one after another. Finally I came to one man and talked to him about Christ. He did not know anything about Christ; he did not know there was such a person ever lived; he knew nothing about the Bible. He had never read the Bible or had it read to him. I sat there for thirty minutes, trying to tell that man of Jesus, but I could not get it into his mind. I left that bed and went to the next bed and talked to a young fellow there who was about twenty or twenty-two years of age. After talking for a moment or two, he said, “I know what you mean.” He had been brought up a Lutheran. He had learned his catechism and his Bible history. He said, “You mean this,” and he quoted a passage from the Bible and explained it from the catechism, and within five minutes I was praying with that man, and he yielded himself to Christ. It brought him near to the kingdom. It was a great joy.

I noticed another thing. This man was candid and orthodox. He said, “Well, Master, thou hast said truth.” He believed, as many others do, in the Bible as the Word of God. You believe in it; you believe in the deity of Christ; you believe in the inspiration of the Scriptures; you believe in the stoning merits of Christ’s death. You are orthodox. You say, “I believe that with all my heart.” That is a wonderful thing. Many a man has to fight hard intellectually to get that point in Christian experience, and many a man today is far away from being a Christian because he cannot accept the things that you accept. It is a great thing for a person to be candid and orthodox and hold and understand the truth. But that did not bring him into the Kingdom. It brought him near to it.

I noticed another thing. He was moral and clean and pure in mind. He could stand before Jesus, who read men through, and say what he did. If he had not been true; if he had been a hypocrite; if he had been impure, immoral, Jesus would have read him through and through as He did the Pharisees, and He would have threshed him with the flail of His eloquence. But He looked at that young fellow and saw that he was moral, pure, true, and upright, and He loved him for his cleanness, his morality, and his uprightness. This brought him near to the kingdom, but it did not bring him in.

Paul was a moral man. In describing his condition before his conversion, he said he was “an Hebrew of the Hebrews, as touching the law, blameless”; but that did not save him. Morality never saves a man.

You, through the kind care of Christian parents, may have been saved from grosser sins of immorality that curse the lives of men. You have been kept pure and true and clean. That is wonderful. You have not a tainted past to blight your memory, but that does not make you a Christian. You may be near to the kingdom; you may be very near becoming a Christian, but this man with all his morality was not in the kingdom.

Another thing, notice this young man had real, deep concern and conviction about his soul, and I want to tell you it would take a good deal of concern for some of you well dressed people to leave your seats and come and kneel down in this sawdust, and yet that is what that rich young ruler did. He fought his way through the crowd and came and knelt in the dusty street at the feet of Jesus and said, “Master, Master, I have lived right, I have been clean, I have read the Bible, I have studied the Scriptures, I have tried to be a moral young man; but there is something lacking in my life. I am not satisfied. Master, what lack I yet?”

That man had discovered a religious lack in his life, just as you have. You are not satisfied. Clean, moral, religious you may be with a knowledge of your Bible, orthodox in your faith, believing all that the Bible says, and yet, in your heart of hearts, you know there is something lacking to give you peace and assurance that you are Christ’s and you are disturbed about it, and you are concerned about it.

Sir Simpson, the discoverer of chloroform, especially in its use in connection with operations so that you can put a person under chloroform for a few hours and cut their body and slash it, and they do not feel one bit of pain,—one of the greatest blessings that ever came into the profession of surgery, was being given a banquet one night to praise him and eulogize him for this wonderful discovery; and the toastmaster stood up and said, “Dr. Simpson, what do you consider to be the greatest discovery of your life?”

Well, he was a great surgeon, and, as I said, the discoverer of chloroform. He stood up and said, “You ask me what I consider the greatest discovery of my life, I will tell you. The greatest thing I ever discovered in all my life was that I was a sinner and that Jesus Christ was a mighty Saviour.”

Oh yes, now this young ruler had discovered that he was a sinner, but he had not yet discovered that Christ was a mighty Saviour.

Some who are reading these words have all these moral qualities and characteristics, but you have discovered in your heart of hearts that you are unable to cleanse yourself of sin. You have no peace, and you say, “What do I lack to move me out into clearness of light and peace and joy?” A man may have deep convictions of sin and not be a Christian, not be in the kingdom. He may be near to it; he may be just one step away. Near to but not in. What was it this young man lacked? Jesus said he lacked one thing. One, one, ONE! The dahlia would be the empress of flowers but for one thing. She would excel the American beauty, but for one thing. The dahlia has no fragrance, no perfume. Florists and scientists have done their best in order to supply that want, but the lack of that one thing keeps the dahlia from being the empress of all flowers.

There is a great ocean liner ready to plough the deep,—beautiful, magnificent boat, fine cabins, fine saloons, magnificent dining room, splendid engine, fine officers, splendidly equipped, a floating palace; but I do not go on board her if she has not got one little thing. It is a needle that a little child finding will think it is a toy and play with it, but, if that steamer has not that one little compass, that needle, I do not go aboard her. She may have all the rest, but the one thing is the thing she needs.

Supposing I am a prisoner, and I am trying to escape, and I get out of my cell, and I am scaling the walls, and I mount the ladder step by step, rung after rung, until I get to the top—just one rung more; but what good are the fifty rungs, if I am one run short of reaching safety? Just one, one thing.

I may take a number of naughts and zeroes, a hundred of them and they amount to nothing, but when I take a digit, the smallest of them, the figure one, these zeroes become millions. One, one, ONE!

One thing means something, and when Jesus said, “One thing one thing thou lackest,” the young man began to look up.

I was in a train a little while ago, and the conductor came around and said, “Tickets, please. Show your tickets.” There was a man beside me who took out his pocketbook and brought out his card case—theatre ticket, concert ticket, baseball ticket, a dozen different tickets; but no railroad ticket. The conductor said, you have to pay your fare or get off. Those tickets are all right, but, on this train, you have to have one ticket, and that is the railroad ticket. ONE THING.

One thing! What was it? It was not reverence that he lacked. He had that. He came and knelt at the feet of the Teacher. It was not religion, he had it. It was not orthodoxy, he had it. It was not conviction of need, he had it. It was not a knowledge of the Scripture, he had it. What was it? One thing, and Christ put a test to him, and the test revealed the one thing that was necessary to bring him into the kingdom of God. He was on the borderline, just on this side of the gate. One step would take him clear into the kingdom. What was the one step? This young fellow had assented with his understanding. He had said, “Well, Master, Thou hast said truth. I believe every word that Thou hast said; I believe the Bible! But I know there is something wrong in me, I lack something.” His intellect had comprehended, but his heart had not comprehended. Up to this point the head was the prominent thing.

Now Jesus Christ puts the test to the heart. He said to him, “Do you want to be perfect? Do you want to know what is the trouble? I will tell you what your trouble is. Your trouble is summed up in one word,—that is lack of abandonment to me. Sell all that thou hast and give to the poor, and come, come, follow me, come follow me, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven.”

What this young fellow lacked, the step that he needed to take was the step of open, clear, definite, out and out surrender to the side of Jesus; and, when Jesus put that test (you may call it a severe test, but I tell you no test is too severe that stands between God and a man’s soul, and Jesus put the test). Peter shrank at the test and said, “That is too hard, cut it in half. Say, ‘sell half of your goods.’” Ah, Jesus Christ does not want disciples at the expense of quality. What the church of Christ needs today is not more members, but a better stamp of members, and Jesus is not going to lower the standard. He says, “Forsake all, leave the crowd, leave the world, cross this line. See these disciples of mine; they have left all. Come and follow us, let the world see that you have decided for me. No secret discipleship.” No man can be a secret disciple. No man can be a silent partner. It is not Jesus Christ and Company. There is not Jesus Christ and Company. It is Jesus Christ and William Evans or Jesus Christ and Paul Rater. You cannot put “Company” after Jesus Christ. You can put your name. That is the one that that you keep. Money has kept many a man from stepping clean over to the side of Jesus Christ. Jesus said, “Come out boldly on my side, throw in your lot with my disciples, let the crowds see you do it.”

So you see him. It is the most pitiable sight my eyes have ever seen,—that magnificent, splendid young fellow, showing the breadth of his shoulders and marching away from the Christ. I do not know that he ever came back, just like some of you are going to do. You are in his condition exactly. You are going to show the breadth of your shoulders to Jesus Christ, and you are going out sorrowful because you are not willing to take that one step which will bring you straight over into the kingdom.

I remember reading a story that happened in the centuries long gone by. I stood one day in the amphitheatre, in the Colosseum in Rome, and I said to the guide who was showing me around the place, “Take me into the box where the Neroes and Caesars sat and looked on the massacres in the arena.” He took me to a box and I sat there a minute, and I recalled the “thumb down or the thumb up of the emperor,” and I recalled the story that I had read of one Roman emperor who wanted to build a colosseum, one that would excel in beauty and architecture and splendor all that had preceded it! And he promised a great reward to the architect who would put up such a colosseum. After the lapse of four years, the colosseum was built: a wonderful, magnificent structure. The day of opening came. The colosseum was crowded, row upon row in the great colosseum, matron and maid; soldier and civilians, a great sea of people. Down there in the arena snorting wild beasts. Open the gates! Just then a trumpet sounds, but the gates are not opened. The emperor, the emperor, THE EMPEROR! with all his royal retinue of retainers come into the amphitheatre and take their places in the boxes. Beside of the emperor is the architect, who is the guest of honor for the day.

Now they are ready for the sports to begin. Call out the Christians! I see a door open. I walked down through that door into the dungeons where the Christians were kept in the days gone by. I walked up the steps into the arena. Out of that door a line of Christians, men and women, followers of Christ, come. They are to be killed. What have they done? Are they anarchists? No. Nihilists? No. Insurrectionists? No. Murderers? No. For what cause? They bear the name of Christ. Those were the days when it took men with blue blood to be Christians. Call out the Christians! They came. Let loose the lions! See the gates go up—those snorting beasts. I saw them. Soon you hear the crunching of bones. Soon the arena is stained scarlet with the blood of the martyrs.

The time has come to honor the architect. The emperor rises and makes a speech and turns around, to the architect. The architect stands. The crowd gives three cheers for the architect. Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah! Speech, speech! The architect stands there and listens to the crowd as it applauds and hurrahs. Then he looks down into the arena, then he looks at the emperor with the crown of laurel in his hands to put on the brow of the architect. Again the crowd cries, speech, speech! Again the architect looks into the arena on the mangled forms of the Christians, then at the crowd, then up to heaven he lifted his right hand and said, “In the name of Christ, the Nazarene, I too, am a Christian”; and he, too, was cast into the arena. That’s courage. That’s following.

You and I are not called upon, thank God, to make that sacrifice today; but we are called upon to come out clearly and boldly and unequivocally, without shame or fear of favor, come out on the side of Christ and say, “I am a Christian. Christ is mine.” That is the only thing that is going to bring you into the kingdom.

Why is it? Why do men and women wait? Why did this young man stay on the borders of the kingdom? Why didn’t he come in? Why don’t you come in? Shall I tell you why? Now, do not be angry with me. You have not got the nerve to come in. You would be angry with me if I called you a coward, but that is what I mean, and the only reason you are not out and out for Christ today is because you have not the moral courage, the moral backbone to say, “Yes sir, I will come out clearly and boldly for my Saviour.” You examine your own heart and tell me.

I could stand here tonight and give an appeal and say, “Those of you who are almost Christians, but who yet feel there is something in your life that you lack, you have never openly, boldly confessed Jesus Christ before the world, come out boldly on His side. Those of you who will do this, leave your seats and come here out and out for Christ.” You won’t come, some of you. Why? You fear your companions. You say, “They will see me and laugh at me.” Is that it? Well, sum it up, my friend. It is weakness, and weakness is cowardice, and a coward is to be despised. I wonder if you ever read that verse in Revelation carefully, “But the fearful and unbelieving, and abominable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death.” We say the “fearful,” the Bible does not say that. In the Greek it says the “cowards.” He that overcometh shall inherit all things but the “fearful,” the “coward,” the unbeliever, he inherits nothing, and there are men and women who would be out and out for Christ if they had backbone enough.

I read in history of a man called “Red Rufus,” and the strange thing about this “Red Rufus” was this, he had a shield with which he went to battle. On one side of the shield it said, “Good God,” and on the other side it said, “Good Devil,” and whichever side offered the greatest advantage, he turned it. Now you know there are some people who are straddling the fence like that, some who won’t come out and out for Christ, for they say, “If I do, of course, I cannot do this and I cannot do that. If my friends see me stand up and say, ‘I give myself to Christ,’ they will know I should not do this and do that, and I like to do this and that.” Sometimes a man does not come out clearly because there is advantage, perhaps, in the middle course.

If there is one thing in nature that I do not like, it is a chameleon, that thing that changes its color. If you put it on a brown desk, it will be brown; if you put it on a pink flower, it will be pink; if you put it on a blue flag, it will be blue. There are people in this world that are just like that. If they came out clear and boldly for Christ, it would not allow them to straddle the fence. I do not like to see this.

Is it possible that this young man loved sin more than he loved Christ? Tell me the reason why you do not come out boldly for Christ. Is it because you love sin more than you do Jesus; because you love wrong more than you love right? Am I to believe that that is the reason why you do not yield to Christ, that it is because you love the wrong more than you love the Christ and the right? May I say this?

One more thing. Perhaps the reason you do not step over the line is because you say, “Well, next week I will.” And you put it off. You expect to step over the line some time, but not now.

I saw a football game three or four years ago out in California. I shall never forget it because my big boy played on it. It seemed as though he were going to break his neck, the way he was going at it. They had won every game up to that one, and so had the team they were playing with. I shall never forget that day. Here they were. The other side had made a goal, and his side was working up towards the opponent’s goal. They were within eighteen inches, make you (the whole field is 300 feet). They were within a foot and a half of making the goal. They had four counts to go, within eighteen inches of the goal that would have won the day for them. Then, of a sudden, we heard a revolver go off—the whistle blew, and it was over, and they lost. Why? They said, “Why, we thought we had two minutes more. They didn’t, and they did not take that one step. Eighteen inches too late!

My friends, tomorrow, next week may be too late to take that one step. The game may be over,—the gun may go off and the umpire blow the whistle. When those boys game into my machine—some of them, their shoulders were drooping, their eyes were wet—they had lost the game. Their hearts were sad. Why? Because they reckoned on two minutes that were not theirs. What will it be with you, if you reckon on time that is not yours, if you fail to make this eighteen inches? Now is the time to take that one step.

Have you ever noticed this, the danger of standing on the border land? Some of those men who became the greatest enemies of Christ were so near to becoming Christians that it is a wonder they evaded it.

Take that man, Aaron Burr, who was the traitor of America, who bartered his country. He was in a Yale University revival meeting. The invitation was given for those who wished to give themselves to Christ to leave their seats and go into the little anteroom. At that time Aaron Burr, the traitor, was a youth. He was moved, deeply moved by the Spirit of God to become a Christian and went with other young fellows down the aisle. As he passed, someone said, “Look at Aaron Burr going into the inquiry room.” Burr turned around and came back and said, “I was only fooling.”

There was Judas near enough to kiss his Master. That’s near for you, and yet he was lost. The children of Israel came to the border of the Promised Land, yet they turned back into the wilderness and their carcasses perished there, and not one of them entered into the Promised Land. Nearness is not possession.

I think the thing that broke the heart of those boys that played on my boy’s team was, not that they lost the game, but that they were within eighteen inches of the goal and lost. If they had been way down at the other end of the field, it would not have been nearly so bad.

When the Royal Charter, that British steamer had circumnavigated the globe in laying a cable, after a voyage of three years, it came within sight of Queenstown, its harbor. The captain lived close by the shore. His wife took the glasses and looked out and saw her husband’s ship and saw her husband wave his handkerchief, and she went into the house and set the table and began to prepare a meal for her husband. In four hours he would be home again with his wife and children. Those of you who have read the story of the loss of the Royal Charter, know that a great storm came up when they were just outside of Queenstown, and the Royal Charter was dashed to pieces, and not one soul was saved, and that captain within sight of his home, within sight of his wife and children, almost home, was lost. It would have been bad enough to have been lost thousands of miles away, but lost within sight of home!

During one of the severe storms that visit Colorado, a man became lost in the storm. He fought his way up and down, trying to get home, but he could not find it. His wife waited in the home and put a light in the window to guide his footsteps, but he could not see it for the storm. He passed it, still looking for home, while his wife sat within waiting for the sound of a familiar footstep which would never come again. In the morning, she started out to look for her husband, and there, as she opened the door, in front of her, within a few feet of the lamp that she had placed in the window, lay the dead body of her husband. Alas, alas, so near, yet not home.

“So near the door, and the door stood wide;
Close to the door, but not inside;
Close to the fold, yet not within;
Almost resolved to give up sin;
Almost persuaded to count the cost;
Almost a Christian and yet lost!”

Thou are not far from the kingdom of God. Step over the line, it is only a step between you and Jesus.

“Oh, tender and sweet was the Master’s voice
As He lovingly called to me,
Come over the line, it is only a step—
I am waiting, my child, for thee.

“Over the line, hear the sweet refrain,
Angels are chanting the heavenly strain:

Over the line—why should I remain
With a step between me and Jesus?

“Ah, the world is cold, and I cannot go back,
Press forward I surely must;
I will place my hand in His wounded palm,
Step over the line and trust.

“Over the line, hear the sweet refrain,
Angels are chanting the heavenly strain:
Over the line—why should I remain
With a step between me and Jesus.”

Will you step over the line?