menu_book Chapter 9

Section 9. Of David and His Friends. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Read by Matt Crawford. David and His Friends. A series of revival sermons by Lewis Albert Banks. section 9 the volcano in the heart my heart was hot within me while i was musing the fire burned

then spake i with my tongue psalm 39 verse 3 several years ago one july day i climbed the sides of Vesuvius, the famous volcano which overlooks the Bay of Naples, I never shall forget that day. I climbed upward through the vineyards and fig orchards, growing where lava streams used to run, and out upon the mountain beyond the line of vegetation to the volcanic rock. The mountain was in a state of eruption, which added very greatly to the interest and the danger. Very

close to the path over which we climbed during the last stage of the journey, great heaving masses of red-hot lava oozed out through the fissures in the mountainside. As we climbed near the top, hot, blinding smoke issued from the cracks in the rocks between our feet. We were getting high enough now to hear the deep-toned thunder of the explosions from the crater. Ever and anon, the mountain quivered and shook beneath our feet. The smoke above filled the sky with its clouds.

As we neared the top, we had to be careful where we stepped, for our shoes were now burning hot, and our feet were scorching while our heads were in a whirl. We pressed forward to the edge of the crater, and a moment later we were looking on the most splendid and thrilling scene I have ever witnessed. A scene more awful, more sublime than my wildest imagination in its most exaggerated flight had ever dreamed or painted. As I looked down into the gaping crater, my first thought was

that a mountain was smothering for breath. You have noticed a great freight locomotive just pulling out with its long line of cars. It's heaving puff, puff, puff. Multiply that by a hundred thousand, and you may have some conception of a burning mountain taking its breath. That deep, heaving pulse was as constant and as regular as the beating of my heart, and through the smoke and ashes thousands of feet high, every minute or two came a deep rumble-like thunder, and out

through the smoke were shot hundreds of rocks, some of them of immense size, and thrown many of them a thousand feet into the air. With the stones came up the melted lava. It fell all about the sides of the crater, still molten, running like water as it fell. Then, if the wind blew aside the heavy curtains of smoke for a moment, I got a glimpse of the great sheets of lurid flame that came up from the mountain's burning heart. It thrilled, exalted, intoxicated me. I seemed to

live ten years in a single hour. I had a new vision of the greatness and majesty of the god who weighs the mountains in a balance, who toucheth the hills and they smoke. The fascination of such a sight has something terrible about it, and I can understand how a distinguished traveler, a year or two later, standing there at the edge of the crater as I did that day, was so fascinated and drawn to the brink that he toppled over and

lost his life in the yawning cauldron. As I descended the mountain again, it was with a new thought of the risk of life and property incurred by all the people who lived about the base of Vesuvius. We cross over a great molten river. The lava is hard and solid enough now, but it is gnarled and twisted like the current of a great stream flowing over rapids. A river a thousand yards wide and twenty feet deep, that less than thirty years ago burned its way down the mountain

through smiling vineyards. As you look at that, you know that no man within reach of that mountain is safe. You look down on old Pompeii at the left, and remember that a little over 1800 years ago there was on that spot a lovely, beautiful city. It was the center of wealth and luxury. Then suddenly, from that lofty crater, more than 3,000 feet above, the great pillars of flame and smoke burst into the air. Streams of melted lava rolled down the sides of the mountain.

Vast clouds of ashes began to fall like burning snow in the street. This hoarded shower continued to fall until it was a foot deep, then two feet. Then it covered the doors of the houses. It blocked the streets, and the work of desolation and death went on until the tallest houses were covered over. And a city bright and gay and beautiful, full of luxury and art and human life, was buried out of sight.

and for seventeen centuries lost to the world. And today the traveler to Vesuvius feels that no vineyard or cottage or village in all the region about the mountain's foot is safe for an hour. Men get careless and gay. They become reckless about it and eat and drink and are merry.

But there is always a feeling of uncertainty and unrest in the air. They know that the heart of the mountain is on fire, that down in its great subterranean caverns the cauldrons are boiling and no man can tell what day or hour it will again spit forth its flame pour out its rivers of burning lava and snow under the cities

about its foot with its desolating storms of ashes. I have told you this story because it seems to me that there is no other illustration that so truly indicates what David means in this text. David says, sir, of a desolated and ruined life. A man sometimes carries a volcano of evil in his heart

for a long time without an eruption, and he begins to think he is going to be able to hold down the boiling thoughts and imaginations of evil, and be master over them forever. Vesuvius was once so quiet for a hundred and thirty years that trees grew on the side of the mountain, and cattle grazed on the inside of the mouth of the crater. The people, living on its sides, looked on the stories of the past eruptions as idle tales, and did not believe there would be any like them in the future.

But suddenly the heart of the mountain burst forth in flames. Enormous stones, one of them 25 tons in weight, were thrown 15 miles. Rivers of lava poured from the summit, and 3,000 people perished. So we see men who have held under the hatches their evil thoughts and their impure imaginations and their vengeful feelings for a long time, and they begin to sneer at other men who are not able to control their feelings and are overcome by their passions and their appetites. Then suddenly the wicked heart within them bursts forth in vicious words and unholy deeds,

and the fair and smiling life is scorched and burned, and all the green leaves of hope are withered, and a promising career is wrecked and destroyed. No man can trust an impure heart. All the history of mankind bears its testimony. That was the difficulty with Cain.

Down in his heart he cherished envy and jealousy against his brother Abel. Adam did not know it. Eve did not know it. Abel was unconscious of it, but down in Cain's heart it smoldered and burned. God reasoned with him about it and pointed out the danger. God said to him in substance,

You are as dear to me as is Abel. If you will turn over a new leaf and do right, Your sacrifice will be as precious to me as is his. But take care, Cain, and get that vicious envy out of your heart. For if you go on doing wrong and let that grow, sin croucheth at the door.

But Cain did not hearken. It burned in his soul, smothered out all his joy and all his love for his brother. For a long time, all the outward sign of this feeling was that Cain grew sullen and morose in his appearance. His countenance fell. But one day Cain and Abel met in the field.

Then came the eruption. I have no doubt it was far more terrible than Cain had dreamed of. I have no doubt it was far from his intention to kill Abel, but his heart had been hot within him so long that he felt he must pour out some of his spite and hatred to Abel's face. He meant to give him a tongue lashing he would not soon forget,

but when he had once given vent to his spiteful spirit, the stream of boiling hatred from his heart was beyond his power, and he killed him, and his brother's blood ran into the ground and cried unto heaven, and Cain fled from it a poor, guilty, hunted thing, shocked at the crime which had been all the while locked up in his heart. Many a man might take warning at this. The great dangers of life are not outside of us. A heart that is not open to God, that does not welcome

God's sunshine of love, becomes a foul cell in which are all sorts of evil and horrible things. You remember what Jesus says about people who have let envy and jealousy rankle in their bosoms until they get to be hatred. Christ says that such people are whited sepulchres full of dead men's bones. That means that in God's thought you are already guilty of the murder of the man or woman whom you hate. It may be you have never spoken a hard word to him. Possibly you have

always veiled, even in your looks, your antagonism. You have never lifted your hand to harm a hair of his head, but down in your heart the smoldering fires of envy and jealousy and vengeance have been boiling, and in the secret chambers of your soul the clear eyes of Christ see that you have already killed the man or woman, and the bones lie there. Envy and jealousy and anger and hatred permitted to smolder in the heart always mean the possible murderer, and so of every other sin that

desolates human life. All the sins of self-indulgence and lust and passion that burn down the smiling vineyards and fig orchards of health and innocence and beauty and goodness, and leave lives that are scorched and blackened and ruined. All these begin in the heart, in the heart that is held back from God and becomes the lurking place of evil and vicious things. When we take into consideration these things, we can understand God's thought when he says, Son, give me thine heart. If we give our

hearts to God and he is permitted to cleanse them and purify them so that our thoughts and imaginations and purposes are right, our lives will take care of themselves. Christ compares the heart to a fountain. He says that sweet water will never come from a bitter fountain. If our hearts are bitter, our words and our deeds will be bitter. You remember how it was when the Israelites came to the bitter waters of Marah. God directed Moses to take the branches of a tree and cast them into

the waters and they were sweetened. So God sweetens the waters of our lives by making our hearts pure and wholesome. We can understand now what David meant when he said, Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. If the heart is clean and the spirit is right, good words and pure deeds will follow. We can understand from this what Jesus meant when he talked to Nicodemus at night and said to him,

Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. He was but saying to him that his heart, the very fountain of his life, must be changed and transformed. And, thank God, that is what Jesus is ready to do for us. He does not mock us when he asks us to give him our hearts.

We can do it, and if we will decide to do so tonight, he will cleanse them of evil thoughts, and he will make our hearts the fountain of good thoughts, and the nesting place of earnest and pure deeds. Perhaps someone says, how can I give my heart to Christ? Well, let us take Jesus' word for it. He says, if any man will do his will, he shall know the truth.

That is, if we will do the thing we know is right to do honestly and follow it up, our knowledge will increase. Do the first duty at your hand, and you shall have light as you go on. A noted minister tells the story of a man in a New England city who was an infidel. He had 45 young men associated with him in an infidel club, of which he was president. Some revival meetings were in progress in that city, and one day the pastor of the church where the meetings were being held met this man on the street and invited him to come to the meetings.

He said, I do not know that I ought to go, but I am one who professes to believe in morality, and I think these meetings are having a good moral influence on the community, and so far they have my approbation. I'll tell you what I would like. I would like to see some of my young men go to these meetings. To be honest with you, some of the young men in our society are getting pretty far away from the path they ought to walk in,

and I suppose I am somewhat responsible for them. I would like to have them take any sort of a moral tonic that would tone them up. Said the minister, suppose you invite them to come. I am willing to ask them, was the reply. On the next day, the minister met him and said,

Did you ask the young men to come to the meetings? Yes, but none of them would go. Did you tell them you would come yourself? No, I did not. I told them I would not go.

If I should go, people would say there had been a radical change in me, and it would cause a great deal of discussion. and my action would be misunderstood. I am sure I ought not to go, the minister said. I will tell you what I will do. If you will see your young men and tell them you are going to the meeting and then let me know how many are coming with you, I will reserve a block of seats for you

and when you come and take them I will tell the people that you have come to the meetings not because you have ceased to be an infidel, but because you think this is a good moral movement, and in that way you are willing to patronize it. The infidel said, If you will do that, I will come. He came, and twenty-six of his young men were with him. They sat down in a block of reserved seats, and, of course, the people all looked at them, and the minister rose up and made the statement

as he said he would. The meeting went on, and five of those young men were converted that night, and the person who seemed happiest over it was this infidel leader. He knew nothing that would keep them from their sinful ways, and the weight of responsibility was beginning to press upon him very seriously. The next night, the young men were there again, and some others with them, and several others decided for Christ. As the days went by, the man most interested in getting

the young men to rise and confess Christ was this infidel. He did not have to worry anymore about the young men going to saloons and gambling hells and other evil places. He began to be very much relieved, and he seemed very happy when one after another took a stand for Christ. The last night of the meetings came, the people had gone out, and the pastor and one of his church workers were at the front of the church. When this man came up and said to the pastor, I have been so busy for the

last two weeks that I have not had time to take stock of my thoughts at all, and I hardly know where I stand. But if you will see me tomorrow morning at 11 o'clock, I will come to your house and have a conversation with you to see whether there is any way by which I can renounce my infidelity and become a Christian. The men both smiled and the agnostic saw what the smile meant and he said, you do not think that I am a Christian, do you? And the minister said, if you will go on as

you are doing now, you will be one of the best Christians on earth. His doubts all disappeared that night and the next time he had an opportunity, he stood up in the congregation to confess Christ. He gathered his young men into the Sunday school and became the teacher of a large Bible class. You see, this man's heart began to be changed by divine grace the moment he felt his personal responsibility toward those young men and sought to do the duty next to him in order to save them.

He did not see the end from the beginning, but Christ led him, step by step. There is one thing you know is right for you to do tonight, and that is to confess Jesus Christ. You know that is right because Christ asks it of you in the most tender and earnest way. Take the first step toward the new heart and the new life now. End of section 9.

Read by Matt Crawford, 2021.