Let me illustrate this; and perhaps you will be better able to understand it. Suppose I am dying of consumption, which I inherited from my father or mother. I did not get the disease by any fault of my own, by any neglect of my health; I inherited it, let us suppose. A friend happens to come along: he looks at me, and says: “Moody, you are in a consumption.” I reply, “I know it very well; I do not want anyone to tell me that.” “But,” he says, “there is a remedy.” “But, sir, I do not believe it. I have tried the leading physicians in this country and in Europe; and they tell me there is no hope.” “But you know me, Moody; you have known me for years.” “Yes, sir.” “Do you think, then, I would tell you a falsehood?” “No.” “Well, ten years ago I was as far gone. I was given up by the physicians to die; but I took this medicine and it cured me. I am perfectly well: look at me.” I say that it is “a very strange case.” “Yes, it may be strange; but it is a fact. This medicine cured me: take this medicine, and it will cure you. Although it has cost me a great deal, it shall not cost you anything. Do not make light of it, I beg of you.” “Well,” I say, “I should like to believe you; but this is contrary to my reason.”
Hearing this, my friend goes away and returns with another friend, and that one testifies to the same thing. I am still disbelieving; so he goes away, and brings in another friend, and another, and another, and another; and they all testify to the same thing. They say they were as bad as myself; that they took the same medicine that has been offered to me; and that it has cured them. My friend then hands me the medicine. I dash it to the ground; I do not believe in its saving power; I die. The reason is then that I spurned the remedy. So, if you perish, it will not be because Adam fell; but because you spurned the remedy offered to save you. You will choose darkness rather than light. “How then shall ye escape, if ye neglect so great salvation?” There is no hope for you if you neglect the remedy. It does no good to look at the wound. If we had been in the Israelitish camp and had been bitten by one of the fiery serpents, it would have done us no good to look at the wound. Looking at the wound will never save anyone. What you must do is to look at the Remedy—look away to Him who hath power to save you from your sin.
Behold the camp of the Israelites; look at the scene that is pictured to your eyes! Many are dying because they neglect the remedy that is offered. In that arid desert is many a short and tiny grave; many a child has been bitten by the fiery serpents. Fathers and mothers are bearing away their children. Over yonder they are just burying a mother; a loved mother is about to be laid in the earth. All the family, weeping, gather around the beloved form. You hear the mournful cries; you see the bitter tears. The father is being borne away to his last resting place. There is wailing going up all over the camp. Tears are pouring down for thousands who have passed away; thousands more are dying; and the plague is raging from one end of the camp to the other.
I see in one tent an Israelitish mother bending over the form of a beloved boy just coming into the bloom of life, just budding into manhood. She is wiping away the sweat of death that is gathering upon his brow. Yet a little while, and his eyes are fixed and glassy, for life is ebbing fast away. The mother’s heartstrings are torn and bleeding. All at once she hears a noise in the camp. A great shout goes up. What does it mean? She goes to the door of the tent. “What is the noise in the camp?” she asks those passing by. And someone says: “Why, my good woman, have you not heard the good news that has come into the camp?” “No,” says the woman, “Good news! What is it?” “Why, have you not heard about it? God has provided a remedy.” “What! for the bitten Israelites? Oh, tell me what the remedy is!” “Why, God has instructed Moses to make a brazen serpent, and to put it on a pole in the middle of the camp; and He has declared that whosoever looks upon it shall live. The shout that you hear is the shout of the people when they see the serpent lifted up.” The mother goes back into the tent, and she says: “My boy, I have good news to tell you. You need not die! My boy, my boy, I have come with good tidings; you can live!” He is already getting stupefied; he is so weak he cannot walk to the door of the tent. She puts her strong
