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It seems then, that Christians may forget Christ!
There could be no need for this loving exhortation, if there were
not a fearful supposition that our memories might prove
treacherous. Nor is this a bare supposition: it is, alas! too well
confirmed in our experience, not as a possibility, but as a
lamentable fact. It appears almost impossible that those who have
been redeemed by the blood of the dying Lamb, and loved with an
everlasting love by the eternal Son of God, should forget that
gracious Savior; but, if startling to the ear, it is, alas! too
apparent to the eye to allow us to deny the crime.
Forget him who never forgot us! Forget him who poured his blood
forth for our sins! Forget him who loved us even to the death! Can
it be possible? Yes, it is not only possible, but conscience
confesses that it is too sadly a fault with all of us, that we
suffer him to be as a wayfaring man tarrying but for a night. He
whom we should make the abiding tenant of our memories is but a
visitor therein. The cross where one would think that memory would
linger, and unmindfulness would be an unknown intruder, is
desecrated by the feet of forgetfulness.
Does not your conscience say that this is true? Do you not find
yourselves forgetful of Jesus? Some creature steals away your
heart, and you are unmindful of him upon whom your affection ought
to be set. Some earthly business engrosses your attention when you
should fix your eye steadily upon the cross. It is the incessant
turmoil of the world, the constant attraction of earthly things
which takes away the soul from Christ.
While memory too well preserves a poisonous weed, it suffers the
rose of Sharon to wither. Let us charge ourselves to bind a
heavenly forget-me-not about our hearts for Jesus our Beloved,
and, whatever else we let slip, let us hold fast to him.
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