The Shelf Behind the Door

I came to Je­sus long ago

All la­den down with sin

I sought Him long for par­don­ing grace;

He would not take me in.

At last I found the rea­son why

As light came more and more;

I had a shelf with id­ols on

Just in be­hind the door.

That shelf be­hind the door—

Don’t use it any more;

But quick­ly clean that cor­ner out

From ceil­ing to the floor;

For Je­sus wants His tem­ple clean

He can­not bless you more

Unless you take those id­ols out

From in be­hind the door.

I tore it down and threw it out

And then the bless­ing came;

But e’er I got the vic­to­ry

And felt the ho­ly flame

Beelzebub came rush­ing up

And said with aw­ful roar

You can­not live with­out a shelf

Right here be­hind the door.

So many peo­ple of to­day

Are des­ti­tute of pow­er;

’Tis plain to see they can­not stand

Temptation’s try­ing hour.

By way of an apo­lo­gy

My weak­ness is their cry;

’Tis all be­cause of id­ols they

Are us­ing on the sly.

Some smoke and chew to­bac­co

and

Some love their fan­cy dress;

Others have wronged their fel­low men

Refusing to con­fess.

They wond­er why they are not blest

As in the days of yore;

The rea­son why is on the shelf

Just in be­hind the door.

That lit­tle shelf be­hind the door

Will cause you much dis­tress;

Especially about the time

You think of be­ing blest.

While plead­ing for the vic­to­ry

Before the Lord in pray­er

How many times you think about

The id­ols hid­den there.

Your soul is dark

you sure­ly know

You have no peace with God;

You daily trem­ble lest you feel

The chast­en­ing of His rod.

The bless­èd Ho­ly Spir­it puts

This quest­ion o’er and o’er:

What are you go­ing to do about

This shelf be­hind the door?

You need not go to for­eign lands

To find a house­hold god

To look upon id­ola­try

You need not go a rod

But in this land where Gos­pel light

Is shin­ing all around

If you should look be­hind the door

An id­ol could be found.

Some hy­po­crites may look like saints—

From men their id­ols hide;

But what about the judg­ment day

Beyond death’s fear­ful tide?

That hid­den spot be­hind the door

Will be a pub­lic place

Where God and men and an­gels

too

Shall ev­ery id­ol trace.