Acts 26:28

ALMOST PERSUADED

‘Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.’

Acts 26:28

Who and what was the man who used these remarkable words? He was no infidel, no scoffer at religion, no despiser of God’s Word, no inattentive listener to the truths of the Gospel. Far otherwise. He had been brought up in the holiest religion of the day. He was familiar with the Word of God, and believed what the prophets had written. He listened to the most stirring appeals of the ambassador of Christ. Surely these were evidences most remarkable, most satisfactory, most conclusive. And yet he was never truly converted to God.

I. The Agrippas of St. Paul’s day abound on every side.—There are multitudes who, like him, hear the truth, know the truth, believe the truth, and are from time to time subjects of the most serious convictions, but who have, nevertheless, never been truly converted to God. Regular in attendance at the house of God, and on the various means of grace, ready to weep at the recital of Christ’s sufferings, and yet still unsaved.

II. When will you be persuaded?—In your dying hour? When you see the end approaching? Is not this the secret hope you are cherishing? Is this the time? When disease is wasting the frame, when pain is racking the body, and when the throbs and throes of dissolving nature are shaking the earthly tenement to its centre—is this a time to seek the Lord? Is this rational? That a business, the most momentous of life, on which is suspended the destiny of your soul for ever and ever, and compared with which the most important concerns of this world are as nothing, can be crushed within the limits of a dying hour! Yet this is the hope you are secretly cherishing. Thus your life is a mockery of God. God asks you—presses you—for a life devoted to Him; and you are secretly, yet consciously and wilfully, putting Him off.

—Rev. F. Whitfield.

(SECOND OUTLINE)

WHY NOT A CHRISTIAN?

This is one of the few instances in which it is absolutely necessary to correct the Authorised Version. Agrippa did not mean that he was almost persuaded to be a Christian, but just this—‘With but little persuasion thou wouldest fain make me a Christian.’ St. Paul pleaded for Christ persuasively enough, but Agrippa was not open to conviction.

If you pressed for a reason those who still neglect the call of Christ, you would find it would be one of the following five.

I. Some have difficulties about the Bible.—The Bible is not a scientific primer nor a handbook on geology and astronomy. The words ascribed to Galileo are worth quoting: ‘The Scriptures were given to man, not to teach him how the heavens go, but to teach him how to go to Heaven.’ The Bible does not pretend to explain everything; it tells us distinctly that ‘now we know in part.’

II. Others complain of the inconsistent lives of many who profess to be Christians.—Men say they are just as mean and greedy and grasping and selfish as the people of the world. There is no doubt much truth in this. Some people draw us to Christ as the flowers draw us to the garden, others repel us from Him. But then you must judge the Christian faith by Christ Himself.

III. Then another objection is—‘I am not good enough.’—If you say so, then open your New Testament and read how Christ received the worst of sinners. Bishop Andrewes said, ‘I am made of sin.’ So ‘be of good cheer,’ and no longer say, ‘I am not good enough,’ because there is a welcome for all who come.

IV. There are business difficulties.—Extraordinary adulteration is practised in food and medicine. It is very difficult to be always honest and tell the truth. ‘If you don’t do this, somebody else will,’ was said to George Eliot’s hero, Felix Holt. ‘Then somebody else shall. I won’t.’

V. It is a lack of humility that prevents multitudes from coming to Christ.—To renounce their own righteousness and flee to Christ alone with ‘nothing’ in their hands: men will not do this: it is too humbling: so they make the great refusal as Agrippa did. Such persons have never mourned over the evil of their own hearts.

Rev. F. Harper.

Illustration

‘A rich Jew once visited a friend of mine, and said to him: “I have come to you, sir, because I am to be married to a Christian girl, and they tell me it is best for me to become a Christian, and they have recommended me to see you. Tell me, what is Christianity?” And my friend pointed to a crucifix which was lying on his study table, and said to the Jew, “That is it.” The Jew answered: “That? Why, that is a peasant Jew whom we killed in Palestine, nearly two thousand years ago; surely you don’t expect me, an educated Jew, to accept that?” “No,” my friend said, “I do not. You have made a mistake, you have not looked at the thing I pointed at,” and he pointed again. And over the Figure on the Cross was one word, “Others.” And the Jew looked, and rising from his chair he said: “My God, man, I never knew it was that. It is too much. Why, He gave all He had for others, it is too much. Is that your Christianity?” “Yes,” said my friend, “nothing else.” Then said the Jew: “I cannot be a Christian, I am too rich.” And in the hall downstairs, as he was going, he said to my friend, “You will find a cheque for fifty pounds upstairs; spend it for your poor. To-night I dine in the West End, but I shall not drink one glass of champagne the less on account of that money; it will make no difference to me at all, but He gave all—ah, it is too big; I never saw it before. I cannot be a Christian.” ’