0082. The Pay for Soul-Winning

The Pay for Soul-Winning

"What is our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing? Are not even ye in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at His Coming"? (1Th_2:19).

No work is so fruitful in its rewards as the work of soul-winning. Paul had entered the city of Thessalonica and preached and alleged that Christ must needs have died, and that He must needs have been raised from the dead, and that the Jesus whom he preached was the Christ. Great persecution arose, and he was compelled to flee the city. However the living seed had been faithfully sown and the harvest was sure to follow. In later days he wrote back, in the Holy Ghost, a Letter to the saints at Thessalonica. He reminded them of the manner of entering in, he had among them, and how they turned from their idols to serve the True and the Living God; and to wait for His Son from Heaven.

Then, Paul said a word that should cheer us all. He saw those whom he had won for God as standing before the Lord in Glory. He saw, in vision, the time when the Lord should come; saw himself translated and standing with the Lord and round him standing those whom he had led to Christ–then he wrote his words, "What is our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing? Are not even ye in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at His Coming"?

And who can doubt the pay that Christ will give to the one who wins souls? He that winneth souls, he that turneth many to righteousness, shall shine as the stars in God’s galaxy of the glorified.

Illustration: A boy lay dying. He had been saved only a few months before. His mother, who sat at his side, saw a troubled look. "Son," said she, "are you not satisfied that you are saved?" "Oh, yes, mother, I have no doubt, the way is clear." Again the mother saw the look of pain. "My son, if you are saved, then why the anguish that crosses o’er your face?" "Mother," said the youth, "I was just thinking that I must meet my Lord with empty hands." This story was told a servant of our God, and he wrote the song:

"Must I go and empty handed,

Thus my dear Redeemer meet,

Not a soul with which to greet Him,

Lay no trophy at His feet.

"Oh the years of sinning wasted,

Could I but recall them now,

I would give them to my Master,

At His feet, I’d gladly bow."

Autor: R.E. NEIGHBOUR