1 THESS., IV., 17.

“So shall we ever be with the Lord.”

WE read in the third chapter of Genesis of the introduction of death into

our world—how sin alienated GOD from man and man from GOD, how those who

had been endowed with the best faculties of enjoying bliss, who were

surrounded by all desirable blessings, who dwelt beneath the bright sun

of GOD’S favour, were by an act of unbelief and wilfulness, suggested by

the evil one, driven angrily into the outer world, where toil, and pain,

and manifold misery were thenceforth to be their lot.

We are sometimes tempted to think, that the actual punishment of our

first parents was less than that they had been threatened with. “In the

day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die,” was GOD’S assurance;

but when they ate they did not die,—as we account dying; they were but

banished from the Garden of Eden, and prevented from returning, by

cherubims who kept the entrance, and a flaming sword which turned every

way. It was indeed a sad reverse—a wilderness instead of a garden—sorrow

instead of joy—toil instead of rest—curses instead of blessings: but it

was not the threatened death. They did not die.

So we are wont to think: but we err therein; they did die, brethren.

This reverse _was_ death. Death (what GOD means by death) is not

annihilation—not ceasing to be; it is protracted existence apart from

GOD, and the blessings of His right hand, and the light of His

countenance. More truly did they die when they entered upon this state

of existence, than when, hundreds of years afterwards, their bodies

stiffened, and their breath ceased, and their flesh turned to corruption

in the grave. It is a misconception—a practical unbelief of immortality,

which makes us think otherwise. The soul does not perish—does not

slumber; living once, it lives ever, and ever knows and feels its

existence. The separation of it from the body alters its circumstances,

uncasing it—depriving it of one of its appendages—breaking off its

connexion with a material and natural world; but not destroying it. No;

it lives on, and lives on (in its spiritual relations) as it did before,

save that the withdrawal of bodily senses enables and _obliges_ the

spiritual senses to exercise themselves to the full, and so intensifies

the feelings, and completes the realisation of the spiritual state.

Suppose that in the moment that Adam was driven out of Paradise, he had

actually died, that his soul had been immediately separated from the

body; what would have been the state of that soul? The same, really, as

it was while he lived—banishment from the presence of GOD, with the

consequent absence of what was desirable, and presence of what was

hateful. He would have _felt_ it more. Having nothing else to gaze on,

the blankness of the spiritual world around him, save where evil spirits

stood revealed, would have been more terrible. The desires would have

been more intolerable when there was nothing to divert attention from

them, and the constrained employments more distasteful. Hopelessness,

too, of remedy in that fixed state, which is to have no change but that

of increase throughout eternity, would have caused his death to _appear_

a greater reality, but it would not have _made_ it a greater reality.

The continuance of bodily existence palliated death; a natural world

spread before his eyes diverted his gaze from the spiritual “void”;

natural pain even, and sorrow, and toil, beguiled his thoughts and

feelings, in a measure, from spiritual miseries; but still he _was_ dead,

though he knew it not fully. His state was like to that of the child who

sleeps calmly in the dark; but when it wakes, cries and starts in terror.

There was darkness all along; but only when the eyes were opened was it

fully perceived—_felt_.

Now, natural death is like this _waking_; it does not so much transfer us

to another state, as show us clearly in what state we are; whether in the

presence of GOD, or banished from Him. To be in outer darkness, where

hope never comes, where the sun of heaven sends forth no rays; to be

punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the LORD, and

from the glory of His power, this is death _completed_. Surely, then, to

be without GOD in the world; to be removed from His favouring, and

comforting, and guiding presence; to live only in such unconscious

dependence on Him as the beasts that perish; to have but the good things

of our own finding; this is death _begun_: this is to have a name to

live, and yet be dead, to be as really dead as are the spirits of the

doomed-departed, except that we know not fully (which is part of death)

the misery of our condition; and (blessed be GOD!) that we may as yet

live again, and be restored to His presence, because Christ has opened

the gates of Paradise, and bids His angels gently drive us in, if we

will; yea, calls to us Himself, and entreats us to enter; to have again

the condition—spiritualised, exalted, perfected—of unfallen Adam.

My brethren, thus think of death, and of life. Do not make so much of

the heaving of the last sigh; the drawing of the last breath; as though

the battle of life were fought, and the victory achieved on a death-bed;

as though the soul began its banishment when it quits the body. Many,

whose flesh has long since mouldered into dust, have never really died;

and many, who still walk the earth, full of energy, and vigour, and what

man calls life, are really dead. To live, is to be with GOD: to live for

ever, is to be with GOD for ever. To die, is to be without GOD: to die

for ever, is to be without GOD for ever. “If,” says Christ, “a man keep

my sayings, he shall never see death.” “Whosoever liveth and believeth

on me, shall never die.” “He that hath the Son hath life, and he that

hath not the Son of GOD hath not life.”

I have said thus much to suggest to your consideration a very important,

life-directing truth, viz.: that the heavenly life and the second death,

both have their beginning on this side the grave; that GOD, for Christ’s

sake, vouchsafes His presence, to those who seek and honour it, to guide,

and comfort, and strengthen, and sanctify them; and where He is there is

real life: on the other hand, that GOD withdraws Himself from those who

disregard, or slight Him; and where He is not, there is death, the second

death—capable, as yet, of being overcome, and put to an end; but more

likely to prevail permanently in proportion as it is not felt; and even

now working many of its miserable effects on all, not excepting the most

hardened and apathetic who are subject to it. Try, dear brethren, to

impress yourselves with this truth. Do not merely _hope_ for eternal

life, or _fear_ the second death _beyond the grave_, _after you die_.

Try to secure the one (the actual possession of it, I mean), and to avoid

the other, in _this_ life, by earnestly seeking and sustaining the real,

the proffered presence with you, and in you, of the life-giving and

upholding GOD.

But, there is a better presence, a more perfect life, spoken of in the

text. To this I would refer, as furnishing truest consolation, exciting

liveliest hopes, and stimulating to holiest exertions,—“eternal abode

with GOD in heaven.” When the minister of Christ would comfort the

mourning relatives of a departed saint, and, as the phrase is, improve

the occasion to their good, he does not forbid them to feel and express

sorrow, for he remembers that Christ wept at the tomb of Lazarus, but

only charges them to set bounds to their sorrow, and prepare to stay it

presently; because, it is merely a _natural_, and not a _Christian_

feeling; because, if continued, it becomes a selfish, inconsiderate

bemoaning of their personal loss; a virtual denial that the departed is

at rest, and in bliss; a rejection of the hope that they shall meet

again, in a better and abiding home. “So shall we ever be with the

LORD.” What mean these words? We know in theory (many of us, let me

hope, experimentally), what it is to be with GOD, or to have Him with us

_here_. It is not simply to dwell in the same world with Him, near Him,

close to Him, by His permission, under His observance and government, as

the omnipresent GOD. No! it is not the _necessary_, but a _special_

presence which we mean. A presence like that which accompanied the

Israelites through the wilderness; which actually went with them, guided

them, fed them, helped them in difficulties, reproved them in

transgressions, interested Itself specially in their circumstances, and

manifested that interest, not only by its doings, but by a sight of

Itself in a pillar of fire, or a pillar of a cloud.

Again, like that presence, it is not constant; the pillar is sometimes

withdrawn. There is, occasionally, no answer given by Urim and Thummim;

we are left to fight, now and then, in our own strength only, and then we

fail; we hunger, we thirst, and no Divine supply comes; we mourn, and

there is no spiritual comfort; we murmur, and there is no reproof; we

sin, and there is no chastisement: GOD, for the time, is absent from our

camp.

Again, like that presence, it does not secure us from trials. We have

long marches, and powerful adversaries; we journey on in perils in the

wilderness, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils of our

own countrymen (our fellow Christians), in perils by the heathen; in

weariness and painfulness; in watchings often; in hunger and thirst; in

fastings often; in cold and nakedness; in deaths oft. GOD, peradventure,

is with us all the while; but it is through the world of tribulation He

leads us, not by a miraculously smooth and safe path. His presence is

manifested in occasional glimpses. His voice is heard in disjoined

words. His arm is felt in intermittent upholdings. I cannot well

picture this presence to those who have no experience of it; I need not

do so to those who have realised it: but all may see that, in this lower

world, we are not ever with the LORD in the fullest manifestation of His

presence; in the constant upholding of His arm; in entire exemption from

trials; in perfect fruition of blessings. That may not be on earth. The

sun may lighten up our dark hovel; but it is a hovel still. Divine help

may lessen our labour; but we must labour still. Divine consolation may

soothe us in our losses; but we are to suffer losses still. Howsoever

GOD be with us; whatsoever He does for us; the wilderness is still a

wilderness.

But the wilderness has a limit; its limit is what we call death. To the

faithful, that bourne is like the Jordan,—when they have crossed it, they

shall be in the promised land, the land that floweth with milk and honey,

where GOD’S abiding, glorious temple is set up; wherein there remaineth

rest and joy for the people of GOD. Whoso entereth that land, shall be

ever with the LORD, enjoying His most complete and satisfying presence.

“Father, I will that those whom thou hast given me may be with me where I

am, that they may behold my glory.” This prayer shall then be realised.

They shall see the King in His beauty, and the land that is now afar off.

There shall be no more curse; but the throne of GOD and of the Lamb shall

be in their dwelling: they shall serve Him, and they shall see His face:

with what feelings and emotions, at present we can form no adequate

conceptions; but we know that it shall be with joy: that they shall love

and praise Him; that it shall be their untiring, unalloyed delight to

gaze upon His glory, to sing His praises, to share His love.

And they shall be like Him. As, in this world, they have borne the image

of the earthly Adam, so, in that, they shall bear the image of the

heavenly. That image, lost in the fall, must indeed begin to be resumed

here in regeneration, and be more and more put on in life-long conversion

to GOD. By contemplating Christ, and watching His countenance, as we are

allowed to see it here, we must gradually assume His features, and be

changed into His image. But we must see Him, not in faint resemblances,

and bare outline, but as He is, before we can be wholly like Him. Then,

but not before, shall we be transfigured, and glorified, and changed from

glory to glory; body and spirit advancing in excellence, and

intelligence, and love, and bliss, till they become what and as Christ

is,—reaching unto the full stature of a man in Christ JESUS, satisfied

with the perfect assumption of His likeness.

Yes, and as they gaze ever on Him, so shall He on them. No sin shall

cause the LORD to hide His face from them; no discipline shall require

His occasional withdrawal; no cloud shall obscure heaven’s sky; no frown

shall be seen; no reproof heard. _He_ shall not try them. _Evil_ shall

not approach to tempt them. A Saviour’s love shall surround them; not to

carry them through a wilderness, not to keep them in tribulations, but to

lead them beside the clear fountains of peace; to plant them all around

His throne, where with eyes wiped of all tears, they shall feast on His

presence, and, with adoring souls and bodies, rest in His love.

And shall not the sharing of this presence with others augment their

bliss? _We_ (they and us) shall be ever with the LORD. All the sons of

GOD shall there meet together, and dwell with the LORD. Man, I need not

tell you, is a social being: he is formed for company; he cannot be fully

happy alone. It is by sharing his good things that he comes to enjoy

them; it is by speaking of them, that he comes to feel them. (Would that

Christians could be brought to act on this admitted truth, as

Christians!) In this world there is no greater enjoyment than to

associate with a band of fellow-countrymen, journeying towards the same

place, with kindred tastes, and tempers, and hopes. Oh! what then shall

be the blessedness of association in heaven with the whole body of the

saints? Think of being associated in the presence, and favour, and

adoration of GOD, with holy angels; with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob;

with David, and Daniel, and Mary, and John, and Paul; and all the others

whose praise is in the Gospel! Think of meeting, in heaven, with all the

primitive Christians and martyrs; with all the perfected saints who once

walked on earth with us; with our relatives, our parents, our brothers

and sisters, our children, our bosom friends: to be re-united with them

in bonds that shall never be broken; where all are happy; where every eye

looks to JESUS, where every heart leaps to Him; each mouth is opened in

His praise; each knee is bent in His adoration; where GOD is the centre

and the circumference, and heaven the roof and the floor! And all this

for ever—uninterrupted, unending, growing fresher, intensified, better

appreciated by the rolling on of eternity. _So_ shall we ever be with

the LORD.

Bereaved Christian, as you gaze upon the vacant place of one who is in

Paradise, advancing to this heaven, will you dare to sigh that the old

armchair, or the little cradle, is unoccupied? Would you prefer for your

loved one, as a _better_ condition, that he or she should come back and

share your sorrows, and difficulties, and perplexities, and be exposed to

toil and contamination? Will your ingratitude think lightly of what GOD

has done, and is doing, for the removed one? Will your selfishness (oh,

if the dead should know of this!) demand—“Let me have my loved one’s

company, though thereby that loved one lose GOD’S?” Oh! there is no

religion, there is no human love, in the mourner who does not smile away

the tears of worldly sorrow with the joy of this blessed consolation; who

does not turn each thought of the righteous dead into a theme of praise

for their deliverance; into a prayer, that he, too, may soon be added to

the number of those who are ever with the LORD!

Christian pilgrim, journeying through the wilderness, footsore,

beleaguered, stumbling, smitten, losing sight ever and anon of the

guiding pillar, wandering out of the path, too often unsustained,

uncomforted, do you _fear_ death? Do you shudder at and flee from the

sight of the Jordan through which angels wait to guide you; whose other

bank is in heaven? Oh! how little do you think of GOD’S abiding

presence! What a mere name is your love of Christ! How unreal was your

professed affection for those who have gone before! How foolishly blind

are you to your own best interests! What a sham is your so-called

pilgrimage, your journey to a shrine which you fear to reach! What shall

I say to those who wilfully linger in the wilderness, while the host

passes on, and the night, with all its howling terrors, is at hand; to

those who would turn back, and would cross again the Red Sea into Egypt,

while the waves are prepared to overwhelm the Egyptians—in plain terms,

to those who live not in GOD’S presence here, and seek not to have it

hereafter? Shall I describe to you the positive horrors of hell; its

gnawing worms, its devouring flames, its malignant frenzied spirits? No;

I will but warn you, that you are fast approaching an outer darkness,

where there is no enjoyment, no hope, no heaven, no Saviour, no GOD. Ye

shall be for ever without the LORD.

Brethren, one and all, what shall we do to inherit the glorious, abiding

presence of GOD? Oh! let us make much of the partial presence which is

now within our reach. “Abide in me, and I in you,” says Christ. Let us

live near to Him; let us live much in Him; let us live as He tells us.

Contemplate we Him in His holy Word; pore over it day after day, till we

see Him as in a glass; till His glory is reflected on us, and we shine

with the glorious light. Watch we for Him in all our ways, listen for

His voice, lean on His arm, fight in His strength. Feed we our desires

with heavenly food; not the quails of our own lust, but the manna from

heaven, and the water out of the rock; the bread and wine, which are meat

indeed and drink indeed. Having this hope—desiring, that is, to be ever

with Him—let us purify ourselves, even as He is pure, and study day by

day to conform ourselves more and more to His pattern.

Yes; believe in heaven, desire heaven, live for heaven. As St. Peter

says, “Add to your faith, virtue; and to virtue, knowledge; and to

knowledge, temperance; and to temperance, patience; and to patience,

godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly

kindness, charity. For if these things be in you and abound, they make

you that ye shall neither be barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of

our LORD JESUS CHRIST; and so an entrance shall be ministered unto you

abundantly, into the everlasting kingdom of our LORD and Saviour JESUS

CHRIST.”

SERMON V.

MAN’S KNOWLEDGE LIMITED.

Plain Sermons, Preached at Archbishop Tenison's Chapel, Regent Street · 第 14 / 23 题