There are many sermons today on many things from pyscho-babble, name it and claim it, watered down religion and on it goes. I guess that's why I like T.De Witt Talmage; he preaches Jesus in all His glory. This excerpt from a sermon titled "Sunset" is based on the scripture
"Abide with us, for it is toward evening"
For the flavor, I'll include the beginning and the end.
"It is a dismal thing to be getting old without the rejuvenating influence of religion. When we step on the down grade of life and see that it dips to the verge of the cold river, we want to behold some one near who will help us across it. When the sight loses its power to glance and gather up, we need the faith that can illumine. When we feel the failure of the ear, we need the clear tones of that voice which in olden times broke up the silence of the deep with cadences of mercy. When the axe-men of death hew down whole forests of strength and beauty around us and we are left in solitude, we need the dove of divine mercy to sing in our branches. When the shadows begin to fall and we feel that the day is far spent, we need most of all to supplicate the strong, beneficent Jesus in the prayer of the villagers, "Abide with us, for it is toward evening....."
"Trouble is an apothecary that mixes a great many draughts, bitter, and sour and nauseous, and you must drink some one of them. Trouble puts up a great many packs, and you must carry some one of them. There is no sandal so thick and well adjusted but some thorn will strike through it. There is no sound so sweet but the undertakers screw-driver grates through it.
In this swift shuttle of the heart some of the threads must break. The journey from Jerusalem to Emmaus will soon be ended. Our Bible, our common-sense, our observation reiterates in tones that we can not mistake, and ought not to disregard; it is toward evening.
Oh, then, for Jesus to abide with us! He sweetens the cup. He extracts the thorn. He wipes the tear. He hushes the tempest. He soothes the soul that flies to Him for shelter. Let the night swoop and the euroclydon toss the sea. Let the thunders roar--- soon all will be well. Christ in the ship to soothe his friends. Christ on the sea to stop its tumult. Christ in the grave to scatter darkness. Christ in the heavens to lead the way. Blessed all such. His arms will inclose them.
If earthly estate take wings, He will be an incorruptible treasure. If friends die, He will be their resurrection. Standing with us in the morning of your joy, and in the noonday of our prosperity.
He will not forsake us when the luster has faded, and it is toward evening."