The Articles of Ellen Gould Harmon White as printed in the Signs of the Times.
August 28, 1879 The Sufferings of Christ
Filed under: EG White Articles

By Mrs. E. G. White.
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(Concluded.)

felt much as will feel when the vials of shall be poured out upon them. Black like a pall of will gather about their guilty , and then they will realize to the fullest extent the of . has been purchased for them by the and of the . It might be theirs if they would accept of it willingly, gladly; but none are compelled to yield to the . If they refuse the benefit, if they choose the and of , they can have their choice, and at the end receive their wages, which is the and . They will be , separated from the presence of , whose they had despised. They will have lost a life of , and sacrificed , for the for a season.

and trembled in the expiring agonies of Christ, because had removed the assurance he had heretofore given his beloved Son of his approbation and acceptance. The of the world then relied upon the evidences which had hitherto strengthened him, that his Father accepted his labors and was pleased with his work. In his dying agony, as he yields up his precious life, he has by faith alone to trust in Him whom it has ever been his joy to obey. He is not cheered with clear, bright rays of hope on the right hand nor on the left. All is enshrouded in oppressive gloom. Amid the awful darkness which is felt even by sympathizing nature, the Redeemer drains the mysterious cup to its dregs. Denied even bright hope and confidence in the triumph which will be his in the near future, he cries with a loud voice, “Lord, into thy hands I commit my spirit.” He is acquainted with the character of his Father, his justice, his mercy, and great love. In submission he drops into the hands of his Father. Amid the convulsions of nature are heard by the amazed spectators the dying words of the Man of Calvary, “It is finished.”

Nature sympathized with the sufferings of its Author. The heaving earth, the rent rocks, and the terrific darkness, proclaimed that it was the Son of God that died. There was a mighty earthquake. The vail of the temple was rent in twain. Terror seized the executioners and spectators as they beheld the sun veiled in darkness, and felt the earth shake beneath them, and saw and heard the rending of the rocks. The mocking and jeering of the chief priests and elders was hushed as Christ commended his spirit into the hands of his Father. The astonished throng began to withdraw, and grope their way in the darkness to the city. They smote upon their breasts as they went, and in terror, speaking scarcely above a whisper, said among themselves, “It is an innocent person that has been murdered. What if, indeed, he is, as he asserted, the Son of God?”

Jesus did not yield up his life till he had accomplished the work which he came to do, and exclaimed with his departing breath, “It is finished!” Satan was then defeated. He knew that his kingdom was lost. Angels rejoiced as the words were uttered, “It is finished.” The great plan of redemption, which was dependent on the death of Christ, had thus far been carried out. And there was joy in Heaven that the sons of Adam could, through a life of obedience, be finally exalted to the throne of God. Oh, what love! What amazing love! that brought the Son of God to earth to be made sin for us, that we might be reconciled to God, and elevated to a life with him in his mansions in glory. And oh! what is man that such a price should be paid for his redemption?

When men and women can more fully comprehend the magnitude of the great sacrifice which was made by the Majesty of Heaven in dying in man’s stead, then will the plan of salvation be magnified, and reflections of Calvary will awaken sacred and living emotions in the Christian’s heart. Praises to God and the Lamb will be in their hearts and upon their lips. Pride and self-worship cannot flourish in the hearts that keep fresh in memory the scenes of Calvary. This world will appear of but little value to those who appreciate the great price of man’s redemption.

All the riches of the world are not of sufficient value to redeem one perishing soul. Who can measure the love Christ felt for a lost world, as he hung upon the cross, suffering for the sins of guilty men? This love was immeasurable, infinite. 

Christ has shown that his love was stronger than death. Even when suffering the most fearful conflicts with the powers of darkness, his love for perishing sinners increased. He endured the hidings of his Father’s countenance, until he was led to exclaim in the bitterness of his soul, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” His arm brought salvation. The price was paid to purchase the redemption of man, when, in the last soul-struggle, the blessed words were uttered, which seemed to resound through creation, “It is finished.”

Many who profess to be Christians become excited over worldly enterprises, and their interest is awakened for new and exciting amusements, while they are cold-hearted, and appear as if frozen in the cause of God. But here is a theme, poor formalist, which is of sufficient importance to excite you. Eternal interests are here involved. The scenes of Calvary call for the deepest emotions. Upon this subject you will be excusable if you manifest enthusiasm. That Christ, so excellent, so innocent, should suffer such a painful death, bearing the weight of the sins of the world, our thoughts and imaginations can never fully reach, so that we can comprehend the length, the breadth, the height, and the depth, of such amazing love. The contemplation of the matchless love of the Saviour, should fill and absorb the mind, touch and melt the soul, refine and elevate the affections, and completely transform the whole character. The language of the apostle is, “I determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ and him crucified.” And we may look toward Calvary, and also exclaim, “God forbid that I should glory save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world.”

Considering at what an immense cost our salvation has been purchased, what will be the portion of those who neglect so great salvation? What will be the punishment of those who profess to be followers of Christ, yet fail to bow in humble obedience to the claims of their Redeemer, and who do not take the cross, as humble disciples of Christ!

Some have limited views of the atonement. They think that Christ suffered only a small portion of the penalty of the law of God, and that while the wrath of God was felt by his dear Son, they suppose that he had, through all his painful sufferings, the evidence of his Father’s love and acceptance, and that the portals of the tomb before him were illuminated with bright hope. Here is a great mistake. Christ’s keenest anguish was a sense of his Father’s displeasure. His mental agony because of this was of such intensity that man can have but faint conception of it.

With many the history of the humiliation and sacrifice of our divine Lord does not stir the soul and affect the life any more, nor awaken deeper interest, than to read of the death of the martyrs of Jesus. Many have suffered death by slow tortures. Others have suffered death by crucifixion. In what does the death of God’s dear Son differ from these? It is true he died upon the cross a most cruel death; yet others for his dear sake have suffered equally, as far as bodily torture is concerned. Why, then, was the suffering of Christ more dreadful than that of other persons who have yielded their lives for his sake? If the sufferings of Christ consisted in physical pain alone, then his death was no more painful than that of some of the martyrs.

But bodily pain was only a small part of the agony of God’s dear Son. The sins of the world were upon him, and also the sense of his Father’s wrath as he suffered the penalty of the law. It was these that crushed his divine soul. It was the hiding of his Father’s face, a sense that his own dear Father had forsaken him, which brought despair. The separation that sin makes between God and man was fully realized and keenly felt by the innocent, suffering Man of Calvary. He was oppressed by the powers of darkness. He had not one ray of light to brighten the future. And he was struggling with the power of Satan, who was declaring that Christ was in his hands, and that he was superior in strength to the Son of God, that God had disowned his Son, and that he was no longer in the favor of God any more than himself. If he was indeed still in favor with God, why need he die? God could save him from death.

Christ yielded not in the least degree to the torturing foe, even in his bitterest anguish. Legions of evil angels were all about the Son of God, yet the holy angels were bidden not to break their ranks and engage in conflict with the taunting, reviling foe. Heavenly angels were not permitted to minister unto the anguished spirit of the Son of God. It was in this terrible hour of darkness, the face of his Father hidden, legions of evil angels enshrouding him, the sins of the world upon him, that the words were wrenched from his lips, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”

We should take larger, broader, and deeper views of the life, sufferings, and death of God’s dear Son. When the atonement is viewed correctly, the salvation of souls will be felt to be of infinite value. In comparison with the worth of everlasting life everything else sinks into insignificance. But how have the counsels of this loving Saviour been despised by many. The heart’s devotions have been to the world, and selfish interests have closed the door against the Son of God. Hollow hypocrisy and pride, selfishness and gain, envy, malice, and passion, have so filled the hearts of many that Christ can have no room.

He was eternally rich, “yet for our sakes became poor, that we through his poverty might be made rich.” He was clothed with light and glory, surrounded with hosts of heavenly angels awaiting to execute his commands. Yet he put on our nature, and came to sojourn among sinful men. “Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God.” Here is love that no language can express. Our souls should be enlivened, elevated, and enraptured with the theme of the love of the Father and the Son. “And every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself, even as he is pure.” The followers of Christ should learn here to reflect back in some degree that mysterious love, preparatory to joining all the redeemed in ascribing “Blessings, and honor, and glory, and power unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb forever and ever.”

Jenny @ 5:55 pm
September 12, 1878 New England Camp-Meeting
Filed under: EG White Articles

This has been a very important meeting. From the first we have had a large attendance from the outside, a good attentive congregation. Much labor was required. New churches had been raised up since our last camp-meeting. Precious souls had accepted the truth, and these all needed meat in due season. All needed to be carried forward to a deeper and more thorough knowledge of practical godliness. The Lord gave me freedom in bearing my testimony.

Sabbath, Brother Goodrich gave a discourse in the morning. In the afternoon I was lifted above my infirmities and had freedom in speaking to the people. An invitation was given for those to come forward who wanted to be Christians, and those who had backslidden from God. Between two and three hundred responded. Fervent and effectual prayers were offered. Those who came forward were then divided in companies occupying four tents. A minister was appointed to each tent to labor for those who had come forward and who needed help. These meetings were a success, precious victories were gained. The evening following the Sabbath, Brother Smith spoke from these words, “Great and marvelous are thy works,” &c.

Sunday morning the weather was cloudy with some rain, which prevented so large an attendance from the outside as might otherwise have been expected; but as the prospect brightened for a fair day, the numbers increased rapidly, each train bringing more or less, until in the afternoon the crowd on the ground showed quite a marked contrast to that assembled on any other day during the meeting.

Elder Smith spoke in the morning upon the subject of the sanctuary, showing that the disappointment in the time was not a failure after all. After singing, Brother Farnsworth presented the subject of the Sabbath in the New Testament, showing conclusively that there is no evidence therein for the observance of Sunday. At half past one, Elder Haskell preached. Subject: Who changed the Sabbath. At three o’clock I took the stand, speaking upon the subject of temperance. I spoke one hour, while the people listened with the deepest attention.

A gentleman from Boston, the guardian of a home for orphan children in that city, desired an opportunity of speaking a few words and taking up a contribution for the benefit of the home for the friendless, which is supported purely by charity. He brought with him four of the children, from eight to twelve years of age, who sung little songs very prettily. The remarks on this occasion were brief, but to the point, and all were interested in the home for the fatherless and motherless.

The meetings had been held with but little intermission from nine o’clock until nearly six. The people upon the ground were more quiet than usual upon such occasions.

Monday morning, meeting at the tent commenced at half-past five. I spoke about thirty minutes upon the necessity of economy in dress and in the expenditure of means. There is danger of becoming reckless and careless in the use of the Lord’s money. Young men who engage in tent labor should be careful not to indulge in unnecessary expense. The wants of the cause are many, as tents are entering new fields, and as the missionary work is enlarging. The most rigid economy should be used in this matter without stinginess. It is easier to run up a bill than to settle it. There are many things that would be convenient and enjoyable that are not needful, and that can be dispensed with without actual suffering. It is very easy to multiply expenses for hotel bills and railroad fare that might be avoided, or very much lessened. We have passed over the road to and from California twelve times, and have not expended one dollar for meals at the restaurants or in the attached dining car. We eat our meals from our lunch baskets. After being three days out, the food becomes quite stale, but a little milk or warm gruel supplies our lack.

Our morning meeting was held in the tent. I spoke again about thirty minutes in reference to genuine sanctification, which is nothing less than a daily dying to self, and daily conformity to the will of God. Paul’s sanctification was a constant conflict with self. Said he, “I die daily.” His will and his desires every day conflicted with duty and the will of God. Instead of following inclination, he did the will of God, however unpleasant and crucifying to his nature.

The reason many in this age of the world make no greater advancement in the divine life is because they interpret the will of God to be just what they will to do. They do exactly as they desire, and flatter themselves they are conforming to God’s will. They please themselves in everything, and therefore have no conflicts with self. Many are successful for a time in the conflict against selfish desires for pleasure and ease. They are sincere and earnest; but grow weary of protracted effort, of daily death, of ceaseless turmoil, and resisting Satan’s temptations. Indolence seems inviting, death to self, repulsive; and they close their drowsy eyes and fall under temptation instead of resisting it. The pride of life, fashionable sins, do not seem so very repulsive to them.

There is no compromise in the word of God for those who conform to the world. The Son of God was manifested that he might draw all men unto him. But he came not to lull the world to sleep - not to send peace, but a sword. The followers of Christ must walk in the light of his glorious example, and, at whatever sacrifice of ease or selfish indulgence, at whatever cost of labor or sufferings we must maintain the constant battle with self, exalt the gospel standard, and push forward the triumphs of the cross.

We called on those who desired to be baptized, and who were keeping the Sabbath for the first time, to come forward. Twenty-five responded. These bore excellent testimonies. One gentleman of intelligence said he had seen light upon the Sabbath commandment since these meetings commenced. He stated that he had kept the first day strictly according to the canons of Rome, but he now saw that he had not been keeping the day the Lord had sanctified and blessed. But from this time, as long as God spared his life, he should keep the seventh day specified in the fourth commandment. He also stated that the members of his church had attended these meetings, and were very much interested and stirred in regard to the things they had heard.

We had a good attendance from those residing in the vicinity where our camp-meeting was held. The spirit of the meeting is having a moulding influence upon the community. The spirit of the Lord has been in our midst. My testimony has been well received. I have been strengthened and blessed of God. While trying to water others, my own soul has been watered.

We were pleased to meet here our old friends of the cause whose acquaintance we made above thirty years ago. Our much respected Brother Hastings is as deeply interested in the truth today as he was then. We were pleased to meet Sister Temple, and Sister Collins of Dartsmouth, Mass., and Brother and Sister Wilkenson at whose house we had been entertained more than thirty years ago. The pilgrimage of some of these dear ones may close ere long, but if faithful unto the end they will receive a crown of life.

We were interested to meet Brother Kimbal who is a mute and has been a missionary among the mutes. Through his persevering labors, quite a little army have accepted the truth. We meet this faithful brother at our yearly camp-meetings surrounded by several of his mute converts. Some one who is interested, who has ears to hear, writes out some portion of the discourse, and he sits surrounded by his mute friends actively preaching to them with his hands. He has freely used his means to advance the missionary work, thus honoring God with his substance. By and by, if faithful, he will receive a precious reward. Twenty-two received baptism.

We hope that the influence of this meeting will continue, that conviction will deepen, and that all who profess the truth will strive for the unity of the faith, and that oneness which Christ prayed might exist among his disciples, and with all those who should believe on their word. An early meeting of Tuesday morning closed the camp-meeting at this place.
                                                                  E. G. W.

Jenny @ 9:51 pm
February 10, 1876 Mrs. Ellen G. White.
Filed under: EG White Articles

 Her Life, Christian Experience, and Labors.
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I felt that I could only claim what they called justification. In the word of God I read that without holiness no man should see God. Then there was some higher attainment that I must reach before I could be sure of eternal life. I studied over the subject continually, for I believed that Christ was soon to come, and feared he would find me unprepared to meet him. Words of condemnation rang in my ears day and night, and my constant cry to God was, What shall I do to be saved? In my mind the justice of God eclipsed his mercy and love. 
I had been taught to believe in an eternally burning hell, and the horrifying thought was ever before me that my sins were too great to be forgiven, and that I should be forever lost. The frightful descriptions that I had heard of souls lost in perdition sank deep into my mind. Ministers in the pulpit drew vivid pictures of the condition of the damned. They taught that God never proposed to save any but the sanctified. The eye of God was upon us always, every sin was registered and would meet its just punishment. God himself was keeping the books with the exactitude of infinite wisdom, and every sin we committed was faithfully recorded against us. 
The devil was represented as eager to seize upon his prey and bear us to the lowest depths of anguish, there to exult over our sufferings in the horrors of an eternally burning hell, where, after the tortures of thousands upon thousands of years, the fiery billows would roll to the surface the writhing victims, who would shriek, “How long, O Lord, how long?” Then the answer would thunder down the abyss, “Through all eternity!” Again the molten waves would engulf the lost, carrying them down into the depths of an ever restless sea of fire. 
While listening to these terrible descriptions, my imagination would be so wrought upon that the perspiration would start from every pore, and it was difficult to suppress a cry of anguish, for I seemed to already feel the pains of perdition. Then the minister would dwell upon the uncertainty of life. One moment we might be here, and the next in hell, or one moment on earth, and the next in Heaven. Would we choose the lake of fire and the company of demons, or the bliss of Heaven with angels for our companions. Would we hear the voice of wailing and the cursing of lost souls through all eternity, or sing the songs of Jesus before the throne. 
Our Heavenly Father was presented before my mind as a tyrant, who delighted in the agonies of the condemned; not the tender, pitying Friend of sinners who loves his creatures with a love past all understanding, and desires them to be saved in his kingdom. 
My feelings were very sensitive. I dreaded giving pain to any living creature. When I saw animals ill-treated my heart ached for them. Perhaps my sympathies were more easily excited by suffering, because I myself had been the victim of thoughtless cruelty, resulting in the injury that had darkened my childhood. But when the thought took possession of my mind that God delighted in the torture of his creatures, who were formed in his image, a wall of darkness seemed to separate me from him. When I reflected that the Creator of the universe would plunge the wicked into hell, there to burn through the ceaseless rounds of eternity, my heart sank with fear, and I despaired that so cruel and tyrannical a being would ever condescend to save me from the doom of sin. 
I thought that the fate of the condemned sinner would be mine, to endure the flames of hell forever, even as long as God himself existed. This impression deepened upon my mind until I feared that I should lose my reason. I would look upon the dumb beasts with envy, because they had no soul to be punished after death. Many times the wish arose that I had never been born. 
Total darkness settled upon me and there seemed no way out of the shadows. Could the truth have been presented to me as I now understand it, my despondency would have taken flight at once, much perplexity and sorrow would have been spared me. If the love of God had been dwelt upon more and his stern justice less, the beauty and glory of his character would have inspired me with a deep and earnest love for my Creator. 
I have since thought that many inmates of the lunatic asylums were brought there by experiences similar to my own. Their tender consciences have been stricken with a sense of sin, and their trembling faith dared not claim the promised pardon of God. They have listened to descriptions of the orthodox hell until it has seemed to curdle the very blood in their veins, and burnt an impression on the tablets of their memory. Waking or sleeping, the frightful picture has ever been before them, until reality has become lost in imagination, and they see only the wreathing flames of a fabulous hell and hear only the shrieking of the damned. Reason has become dethroned and the brain is filled with the wild phantasy of a terrible dream. Those who teach the doctrine of an eternal hell, would do well to look more closely after their authority for so cruel a belief. 
I had never prayed in public, and had only spoken a few timid words in prayer-meeting. It was now impressed upon me that I should seek God in prayer at our small social meetings. This I dared not do, fearful of becoming confused, and failing to express my thoughts. But the duty was impressed upon my mind so forcibly that when I attempted to pray in secret I seemed to be mocking God, because I had failed to obey his will. Despair overwhelmed me, and for three long weeks no ray of light pierced the gloom that encompassed me about. 
My sufferings of mind were intense. Sometimes for a whole night I would not dare to close my eyes, but would wait until my twin sister was fast asleep, then quietly leave my bed and kneel upon the floor, praying silently with a dumb agony that cannot be described. The horrors of an eternally burning hell were ever before me. I knew that it was impossible for me to live long in this state, and I dared not die and meet the terrible fate of the sinner. With what envy did I regard those who realized their acceptance with God. How precious did the Christian’s hope seem to my agonized soul. 
I frequently remained bowed in prayer nearly all night, groaning and trembling with inexpressible anguish and hopelessness that passes all description. Lord have mercy! was my plea, and, like the poor publican, I dared not lift my eyes to Heaven but bowed my face upon the floor. I became very much reduced in flesh and strength, yet kept my suffering and despair to myself. 
While in this state of despondency, I had a dream that made a powerful impression upon my mind, but in no wise lifted the vail of melancholy that darkened my life. I dreamed that I saw a temple, to which many people were flocking. Only those who took refuge in that temple would be saved when time should close. All who remained outside would be forever lost. The multitudes without who were going about their various ways, were deriding and ridiculing those who were entering the temple, and told them that this plan of safety was a cunning deception, that in fact there was no danger whatever to avoid. They even laid hold of some to prevent them from hastening within the walls. 
Fearing to be laughed at and ridiculed, I thought best to wait until the multitude were dispersed or until I could enter unobserved by them. But the numbers increased instead of diminishing, and fearful of being too late, I hastily left my home and pressed through the crowd. In my anxiety to reach the temple I did not notice or care for the throng that surrounded me. On entering the building I saw that the vast temple was supported by one immense pillar, and to this was tied a Lamb all mangled and bleeding. We who were present seemed to know that this Lamb had been torn and bruised on our account. All who entered the temple must come before it and confess their sins. 
Just before the Lamb, were elevated seats upon which sat a company of people looking very happy. The light of Heaven seemed to shine upon their faces and they praised God and sang songs of glad thanksgiving that seemed to be like the music of the angels. These were they who had come before the Lamb, confessed their sins, been pardoned, and were now waiting in glad expectation of some joyful event. 
Even after having entered the building, a fear came over me, and a sense of shame that I must humiliate myself before these people. But I seemed compelled to move forward, and was slowly making my way around the pillar in order to face the Lamb, when a trumpet sounded, the temple shook, shouts of triumph arose from the assembled saints, an awful brightness illuminated the building, then all was intense darkness. The happy people had all disappeared with the brightness, and I was left alone in the silent horror of night. 
I awoke in agony of mind and could hardly convince myself that I had been dreaming. It seemed to me that my doom was fixed, that the Spirit of the Lord had left me never to return. My despondency deepened if that were possible. Soon after this I had another dream. I seemed to be sitting in abject despair with my face in my hands, reflecting like this: If Jesus were upon earth I would go to him, throw myself at his feet and tell him all my sufferings. He would not turn away from me, he would have mercy upon me, and I should love and serve him always. Just then the door opened, and a person of beautiful form and countenance entered. He looked upon me pitifully and said, “Do you wish to see Jesus? He is here and you can see him if you desire to do so. Take everything you possess and follow me.” 
I heard this with unspeakable joy, and gladly gathered up all my little possessions, every treasured trinket, and followed my guide. He led me to a steep and apparently frail stairway. As I commenced to ascend the steps, he cautioned me to keep my eyes fixed upward, lest I should grow dizzy and fall. Many others who were climbing up the steep ascent fell before gaining the top. 
Finally we reached the last step and stood before a door. Here my guide directed me to leave all the things that I had brought with me. I cheerfully laid them down, he then opened the door and bade me enter. In a moment I stood before Jesus. There was no mistaking that beautiful countenance; to no other could belong such a radiant expression of benevolence and majesty. As his gaze rested upon me I knew at once that he was acquainted with every circumstance of my life and all my inner thoughts and feelings. 
I tried to shield myself from his gaze, feeling unable to endure his searching eyes, but he drew near with a smile, and, laying his hand upon my head, said, “Fear not.” The sound of his sweet voice thrilled my heart with a happiness it had never before experienced, I was too joyful to utter a word, but, overcome with ineffable happiness sank prostrate at his feet. While I was lying helpless there, scenes of beauty and glory passed before me, and I seemed to have reached the safety and peace of Heaven. At length my strength returned and I arose. The loving eyes of Jesus were still upon me, and his smile filled my soul with gladness. His presence filled me with a holy reverence and an inexpressible love. My guide now opened the door, and we both passed out. He bade me take up again all the things I had left without. This done, he handed me a green cord coiled up closely, this he directed me to place next my heart, and when I wished to see Jesus take it from my bosom and stretch it to the utmost. He cautioned me not to let it remain coiled for any length of time, lest it should become knotted and difficult to straighten. I placed the cord near my heart and joyfully descended the narrow stairs, praising the Lord as I went, and joyfully telling all whom I met where they could find Jesus. This dream gave me hope. The green cord represented faith to my mind, and the beauty and simplicity of trusting in God began to dawn upon my benighted soul.

Jenny @ 7:38 pm