On July 8, 1741, thirty-seven year old Jonathan Edwards stepped behind the pulpit. Dread and fear consumed him, but not for himself. His concern was for those whom he was about to address. I’ve read that he spoke softly and simply, in monotone. His audience at any other time may have yawned at his unexcitable delivery. With urgency and quiet conviction he spoke. “O sinner! Consider the fearful danger you are in.”
He saw his audience as men walking over the pit of hell on a rotten covering with innumerable places in this covering so weak that it would not bear their weight. He saw the devil standing ready to fall upon them, and seize them as his own, at whatever moment God permitted him. He saw all men who had not turned to Christ for salvation as hanging “by a slender thread, with the flames of divine wrath flashing about it and ready every moment to burn it assunder.”
I haven’t been able to dismiss the image of that slender thread since my first reading of what many consider the most famous sermon ever given, “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.”
Edwards’ sermon was meant to bring listeners to at least some realization of the horror of their state. He believed unconverted men and women were objects of God’s great displeasure; they had offended and outraged him by turning away from his incredible goodness in providing for their salvation by sending his own son to be crucified on their behalf.
Truly, the fear of dropping into hell gripped the minds and hearts of Edwards’ listeners. It has been reported that Edwards was interrupted many times by men and women crying out, “What must I do to be saved?”
I, too, am sometimes consumed by the fear of hell. I feel Edwards’ sense of urgency. I think we can all agree with his assessment, “The world tries to prove that a man is not on the very brink of eternity, and that the next step will not be into another world, but to no avail. The unseen, unthought-of ways and means by which people suddenly go out of the world are innumerable and inconceivable.” We all know this is true. We’ve all been shocked and saddened by the unexpected death of a coworker, friend or family member.
I’m thankful that in Christ there is hope beyond the grave. We are living in the day of opportunity, the day of God’s grace. As Edwards put it: “And now you have an extraordinary opportunity, a day wherein Christ has thrown the door of mercy wide open, and stands calling and crying with a loud voice to poor sinners; a day wherein many are flocking to him, and pressing into the kingdom of God. Many are daily coming from the east, west, north and south; many that were very lately in the same miserable condition that you are in, are now in a happy state, with their hearts filled with love to him who has loved them, and washed them from their sins in his own blood.”
That door of mercy is still wide open. And Jesus is still calling, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).
