_We are confident and willing rather to be absent from the body_,
_and to be present with the_ LORD. _Wherefore we labour_, _that_,
_whether present or absent_, _we may be accepted of Him_.
THE apostle had been speaking, in the preceding chapter, of the troubles
and persecutions which he daily endured, and of the hopes and
consolations—the life by faith rather than by right—which made their
endurance easy. Having touched upon the theme, he could not but enlarge
upon it; and doing so, his ardent expectations carried him out of the
present, and made him covet and attempt to grasp the future. Before his
enlightened eye and spiritualised heart, his affliction was light and its
continuance brief; the present state was but as a tent, quickly to be
taken down, and then in its place should be digged the deep foundation
and reared the abiding edifice of a building of GOD eternal in the
heavens. Outstretched, then, were his thoughts, and desires, and earnest
were his prayers, not so much to get rid of what he had, as to attain
what he hoped for and was promised. He knew indeed that the tabernacle
must be removed; that his present state must cease—either by actual death
or by a change, which the quick at CHRIST’S coming must undergo, much the
same as death; he felt the burthen which was upon him; he yearned and
groaned to be rid of it; but looking to the end he disregarded the way;
dwelling, not upon the change but what was to come after it, he sought
not death, but life. He longed, not to be unclothed, but clothed upon.
Nay, recognising the good, and so the desirableness of this life,
shrinking too naturally from the thought of dissolution, he would keep
the present till he had the future, he would have what he wanted _added_
to what he possessed, rather than _substituted_ for it. Present life was
in many respects dear to him; he would that the evil were purged away
from it, and the good left; and then that the good were augmented,
enfolded, absorbed by the transcendent, satisfying perfect blessedness
which GOD had promised, and for the attaining whereof He had bestowed His
effectually working Spirit.
At this point he seems to have sobered himself, or perhaps rather to have
designedly exhibited the latent soberness and contentedness which had
guided him all along. “We are confident,” he says, that is, of good
cheer, well comforted, easily bearing what is, patiently waiting for the
future; preferring, indeed (if a preference be allowed), to be absent
from the body and fully present with the LORD; but still chiefly
animated, not by a selfish yearning for the quickest attainment of peace
and glory, but by the noble, GOD-adoring ambition, of being and doing
that which is divinely approved. “Wherefore, in view of all that is and
shall be, we make it our chief aim, we devote ourselves, not so much to
reach heaven, to gratify self, as whether on earth or in heaven, to enjoy
the approval and favour of God.” “Be silent,” he would say, “ye groans
for deliverance; check yourselves, ye eager aspirations for glory; let
principle rule rather than desire, and let the principle be, whether we
live let us live unto the LORD, whether we die let us die unto the LORD.
Let not dying or living be the engrossing thought, but that whether we
live or die we may be the LORD’S.”
In this, as in so many other respects, our bright exemplar, Paul, shows
us both what we may allow and what we should aim at.
And first he shows us that even the saint—the approved of GOD—may shrink
from the thought of dissolution. “We groan, being burthened, because”
(this is the right translation) “we would not be unclothed,” we would not
die. I envy not the man—there is something unnatural, yea, and
unspiritual, too, in him—who does not shrink from the first thought of
death coming to himself or to those whom he loves. For death, in its
best form, is a remembrancer of the wrath of GOD against the sinner, and
it is in a sense a triumph—no matter that it is short—it is a defiling
and withering touch—no matter that it shall soon be wiped away, and its
blasting undone—of the foul and fierce enemy of GOD and holy man. It is
that, too, which cuts asunder the ties which we are allowed and
encouraged to fasten here between ourselves and loved friends and
delightful pursuits and pleasing possessions. It is that, too, which
abruptly closes the period of probation and preparation for heaven; which
stays all cleansing and perfecting, which says imperatively to us, “No
more shall you remove, no more shall you acquire—as you are shall you
face GOD—stereotyped are you for eternity.” It is that, too, which
enthrals and deadens the one half of us, though it liberates and quickens
the other, which separates the body from GOD, while it joins the spirit
to Him, which, while it exalts the latter to Paradise, consigns the
former to the grave, to corruption, to temporary annihilation. Terrible
is death to many, awful to all—undesirable even to the saint—and only
tolerable because not so much of the soul’s immediate gain as of the
body’s future hope. For if it were proposed to us to choose for eternity
between perfect disembodied bliss, and very imperfect bliss in the body,
there is no one, I conceive, who knows the capabilities of the body, both
of rendering to GOD and receiving of Him, who would not prefer, and I
think rightly, life in the flesh to life out of it.
The words of St. Paul exhibit in himself, and seem to allow in others,
this shrinking from dissolution, this desire to keep the body, albeit
changed, perfected, caught up into the heavens; to be spared the pulling
down of the earthly tabernacle, even to make way for the heavenly eternal
building.
But St. Paul goes on to show that this desire was secondary to that of
exchanging faith for sight, imperfection for perfection. He would not on
any account remain earthy: he longed for the fullest and most glorious
presence of GOD, and if it needs must be that the desired change and
attainment could only be brought about by dissolution, oh, then he was
ready, he was willing rather to be absent from the body. He returned
from the shrinking; he rallied from the fear; he was confident, well
content, and desirous to die.
And herein he is the pattern of a true Christian. He is not so in love
with death that he can see nothing in it to shrink from or fear, nothing
to disturb him. He does not so hate this life as to hurry to be quit of
it. With all its trials, and disappointments, and hindrances, and
miseries, there is much in it which is dear to him, in which he finds
delight, from which he is loth to part. GOD, too, is felt here, and seen
by faith, and bestows appreciable blessings; here GOD’S work is to be
done, here GOD’S glory to be promoted. Therefore “to live is CHRIST.”
But still there are greater and better things beyond. There is a place
where trouble never comes, where happiness is perfect, whose company, and
possessions, and pleasures, are such, that nought on earth is worth
having or thinking of in comparison of them. There is a state in which
GOD’S work may be done as angels do it, without hindrance from within or
without; in which glory to GOD is easily, and fully, and delightfully
rendered. There is a presence of GOD which is visible and palpable,
where His voice is clearly heard, where He is beheld face to face, where
the everlasting arms are substantially felt as they embrace and uphold,
where His love is perfectly realised and enjoyed, and perfectly
reciprocated.
What can be valued, or can interest in comparison of all this? What can
content that is short of this? What can deter from the seeking of this?
what valley seem dark and uninviting at the end of which this glory
shines? what way be dreary and lonely, along which GOD’S rod and staff
are offered as supporters and comforters? This being the end and the
aim, if to attain it death must be passed through, then welcome death!
We are confident, full of cheer at the prospect, eager to set out—“To die
is gain.”
But the best feature of the Christian, as exhibited in St. Paul, remains
for us to gaze on. After all, it is not the holiest ambition to aspire
to heaven; it is not the highest vocation to enrich and perfect self.
GOD has made us capable of heavenly bliss. He offers it to us. He would
have us seek it; He blesses and will reward the seeking. But still He
did not make and redeem us, He does not sanctify us only or chiefly for
this. The Christian’s vocation is the service of GOD. The end of his
being is the glory of GOD. And so our chief thoughts, and aspirations,
and endeavours, are not to be deliverance from troubles, perfection in
joy, getting out of the present into the future, exchanging earth for
heaven; but, being and doing what GOD approves, wherever, in whatever
circumstances, GOD appoints. “Wherefore we labour, that whether present
or absent we may be accepted of Him;” that whether it pleases GOD to come
to us while we are in the body, or to call us to Him out of the body, He
may find us prepared for what in either case awaits us; “for we must all
appear before the judgment-seat of CHRIST, that every one may receive
according to the things done in the body.”
The Christian may shrink from the first thought of death, and wish not to
be unclothed. He ought to aspire to heaven, and that he may reach it, be
well content, willing rather, to be absent from the body. But above all
he must labour in whatever state he is, therein so to be serving GOD, as
to have His present acceptance and always to be prepared for His coming
judgment.
We want to feel this and to act upon it. To put self with even its most
innocent instincts and best interests and noblest aspirations somewhat
aside, that GOD may be more nearly all in all; to be less filled with
groaning and coveting on our own account and more occupied in serving and
glorifying CHRIST. It is well not to love this world, to have realised
its vanity and misery, to have broken the links that would bind us to it,
to refuse to find our perfect joy in aught that belongs to it. It is
well to yearn for deliverance from all that vexes and hinders and hurts;
to desire ardently—even to pray earnestly and continually for—presence
with the LORD, and all that that presence implies, in Paradise, in
Heaven. But when by GOD’S grace we have come to this state, we are not
perfect, we have not _begun_ to be perfect. No! we have only qualified
ourselves in mind and heart for the commencement of that which is
demanded of us in life, the single, contented, glad, immediate, and
constant service of GOD in the state and circumstances in which He has
placed us.
Brethren, we are all dwelling in tabernacles, tents that have no firm
foundation; which are to be taken down and soon. The general judgment
may tarry, CHRIST may not come in His glorious majesty, and meet us while
in the body: but if not then _death_ will surely come, and out of the
body we must go to meet CHRIST. How soon shall that be? How soon shall
we meet Him? Do you ever give these things a serious thought? Do you
ever consider that the apparently capricious last enemy is wont to take
the young and strong as often as the old and feeble, and, _as_ he
chooses, sometimes to sound the warning note from afar off, sometimes to
come silently, suddenly as a thief in the night? Do you feel—I single
out each man, each woman, each child that hears me, and in GOD’S name I
ask that individual—Do you feel that _you_ may be Death’s next victim,
that ere the day is over you may be gone to your account, or at least the
seeds of mortal disease may be beginning to grow in you? Oh, do not
resist this appeal by persuading yourselves that the thing is improbable.
Let it be enough that you know (and you do know) that it is possible,
and, if possible, that you ought to entertain the possibility.
Well now, let me farther ask, Are you prepared, are you preparing to die?
Are you going to leave the vast concerns of an eternal state to the
consideration of a moment, a moment too which may be denied you, if not
by the instant cutting of life’s thread, by mortal fears and lingerings,
and recoilings, by the engrossing pains of the body, by the locking up of
the senses in stupor or delirium? Are you putting off concern; heedless
of thought and preparation for meeting GOD? Are you calculating upon
being able to think and feel aright when you will, to ask and obtain
pardon for all that is wrong, to be excused for all deficiencies in a
moment, to do the work of life on a sick-bed, to satisfy GOD with the
dregs of the cup of life, to become a passive recipient of the necessary
holiness which GOD bids all acquire actively? Do you suppose it will
suffice to think of these things when the doctor tells you you cannot
recover; to send for the clergyman to teach and move you when the faculty
of heeding is well nigh gone, to pray for you, if you are unable to pray
for yourself, to sigh over your body, if, alas! the soul has fled? Or
are you now more or less possessed with religious thought and feeling,
sitting loose to this world, weaning yourselves more and more from it,
nerving yourselves for the last hour, sighing over and confessing your
sins, trusting to CHRIST’S mercy, aspiring to heaven, praying for
acceptance? Whether you are indifferent to or merely postponing concern,
for self’s best interests, or whether you are already absorbed by self’s
best interests, let me remind you—without presuming to set any bounds to
GOD’S mercy, without disputing that GOD has sometimes received those who
first turned to Him on a death-bed, without caring to satisfy those who
want to know how little religion will save a man—let me remind you, I
say, and do not be weary of the repetition, that to be truly acceptable
to GOD, it is not enough that you entertain some religious thoughts, and
go through some religious forms at the last, or even that you are filled
with religious thoughts and feelings all your life long, you must be
serving GOD now, in the day of your ability, at the call of every
opportunity, in whatever state and circumstances you are placed, doing it
as so much work set you to do and presently to be scrutinised and
accounted for, rendering it as the faithful, grateful homage of a
pardoned and sanctified and loving sinner. Let this be your rule, a rule
to be observed not only in theory but in practice also; not only in the
rendering of obedience, but in the treating of all that you have, and the
accepting of all that happens to you, as from the LORD—“Whether we live,
we live unto the LORD, or whether we die, we die unto the LORD.”
SERMON XVIII.
RELIGIOUS ZEAL.