The Dawn of Better Things
W. B. Mackenzie, M. A. Luke 15:11-32 And he said, A certain man had two sons:… "He came to himself." He never had come anywhere to so good a purpose. He had come to a far country and gained much knowledge at a very, very dear rate. He had come to strange doings, and seen strange characters, whose face it had been a mercy never to have seen. He has seen the world, and some of its mysteries of iniquity, and paid dearly for it; but now, at length, he comes to himself. He had always been a stranger there, unwilling to converse seriously with his own proud, flattering, deceived heart. Sometimes, in such cases as this, a young man cannot communicate with his friends; letters are intercepted, communication cut off. One of Satan's plans is this, to put a barrier to prevent the prodigal coming to himself. No prisoner was ever so vigilantly watched — none so guarded with high walls, and gates, and bars, and spikes, as the sinner, to keep him from coming to himself. He is worked hard, he is deceived, he is blinded and led astray; he is kept from church; his Sundays are desecrated; his Bible taken away, or left unread; while bad books are laid on his table, and greedily devoured. Every avenue seems blocked up by which the prodigal might come to himself. Come now to himself, let us hear what he thinks and speaks to himself about. "How many hired servants of my father have bread enough and to spare, and I here perish with hunger." The first thing that now stands, like a spectre, in the chamber of his dark and troubled mind, is the long-excluded image of his father. "There," thought he, "far, far away, there is my father; his house, once my home, enriched with every comfort; and the servants, hirelings as they are, yet not a want have they that is unsupplied; and his own son, in this place, perishing with hunger!" The recollection comes home fresh and vivid to his mind's eye; he sees them all again. And then, looking round on the sad reality of his dreary desolation, his strength failing from hunger, he is touched and humbled by the contrast — I here, in this wretched country, perish with hunger. There is the picture of an awakened sinner. God be thanked for this. He is at length come to himself. The dream is broken. "Why," says he — "why should I sit here to starve? I will arise and go to my father." Do you ask me whence came that godly purpose? I answer, from the Friend. of publicans and sinners. It was no spontaneous resolution that sprung up of itself, among the better purposes of that young man's nature. No, no. Sinners do not repent and turn to God in that fashion of themselves. Let us give the praise to whom the praise is due. "No man can come to Me, except the Father, which hath sent Me, draw him." The sense of his wretchedness drew him — his dread of perishing — the tender recollections of his father's love, and his well-known mercy — the desire springing up in his heart, and the hope of pardon springing up in his breast- these are the drawings of the Father's grace, and these prevailed to bring his godly purposes to good effect. (W. B. Mackenzie, M. A.) Parallel Verses KJV: And he said, A certain man had two sons: WEB: He said, "A certain man had two sons.