The Misery of those who lose the Saint's Rest.
§ 1. The Reader, if unregenerate, urged to consider what the loss of
heaven will be. § 2. (I.) The loss of heaven particularly includes,
§ 3. (1.) The personal perfection of the saints; § 4. (2.) God himself;
§ 5. (3.) all delightful affections towards God; § 6. (4.) the blessed
society of angels and glorified spirits. § 7. (II.) The aggravations of
the loss of heaven. § 8. (1.) The understanding of the ungodly will
then be cleared; § 9. (2.) also enlarged: § 10. (3.) Their consciences
will make a true and close application: § 11 (4.) Their affections will
be more lively; § 12-18. (5.) Their memories will be large and strong.
§ 19. Conclusion of the chapter.
§ 1. If thou, reader, art a stranger to Christ, and to the holy nature
and life of his people, who are before described, and shalt live and die
in this condition, let me tell thee, thou shalt never partake of the
joys of heaven, nor have the least taste of the saint's eternal rest. I
may say, as Ehud to Eglon, _I have a message to thee from God_;[246]
that as the word of God is true, thou shalt never see the face of God
with comfort. This sentence I am commanded to pass upon thee; take it as
thou wilt, and escape it if thou canst. I know thy humble and hearty
subjection to Christ would procure thy escape; he would then acknowledge
thee for one of his people, and give thee a portion in the inheritance
of his chosen. If this might be the happy success of my message, I
should be so far from repining, like Jonas, that the threatenings of God
are not executed upon thee, that I should bless the day that ever God
made me so happy a messenger. But if thou end thy days in thy
unregenerate state, as sure as the heavens are over thy head, and the
earth under thy feet, thou shalt be shut out of the rest of the saints,
and receive thy portion in everlasting fire. I expect thou wilt turn
upon me, and say when did God shew you the Book of Life, or tell you who
they are that shall be saved, and who shut out? I answer, I do not name
thee, nor any other; I only conclude it of the unregenerate in general,
and of thee, if thou be such a one. Nor do I go about to determine who
shall repent, and who shall not; much less, that thou shalt never
repent. I had rather shew thee what hopes thou hast before thee, if thou
wilt not sit still, and lose them. I would far rather persuade thee to
hearken in time, before the door is shut against thee, than tell thee
there is no hope of thy repenting and returning. But if the foregoing
description of the people of God does not agree with the state of thy
soul, is it then a hard question, whether thou shalt ever be saved? Need
I ascend up into heaven to know, that _without holiness no man shall see
the Lord_; or, that only _the pure in heart shall see God_, or, that
_except a man be born again, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God_?
Need I go up to heaven, to inquire that of Christ, which he came down to
earth to tell us; and sent his Spirit in his apostles to tell us; and
which he and they have left upon record to all the world? And though I
know not the secrets of thy heart, and therefore cannot tell thee by
name, whether it be thy state, or no; yet if thou art but willing and
diligent, thou mayest know thyself, whether thou art an heir of heaven
or not. 'Tis the main thing I desire, that if thou art yet miserable,
thou mayest discern and escape it. But _how_ canst thou _escape, if thou
neglect_ Christ and _salvation_? 'Tis as impossible as for the devils
themselves to be saved. Nay, God has more plainly and frequently spoken
it in Scripture of such sinners as thou art, than he has of the devils.
Methinks a sight of thy case should strike thee with amazement and
horror. When Belshazzar _saw the fingers of a man's hand that wrote upon
the wall, his countenance was changed, and his thoughts troubled him, so
that the joints of his loins were loosed, and his knees smote one
against the other_:[247] What trembling then should seize on thee, who
hast the hand of God himself against thee, not in a sentence or two, but
in the very scope of the Scriptures, threatening the loss of an
everlasting kingdom? Because I would fain have thee lay it to heart, I
will shew thee——the nature of thy loss of heaven,—together with its
aggravations.
[Footnote 246] Judges iii, 20.
[Footnote 247] Daniel v, 5, 6.
§ 2. (1.) In their loss of heaven the ungodly lose—the saint's personal
perfection,—God himself,—all delightful affections towards God, and the
blessed society of angels and saints.
§ 3. (1.) The glorious personal perfection which the saints enjoy in
heaven, is the great loss of the ungodly. They lose that shining lustre
of the body, surpassing the brightness of the sun at noon-day. Though
the bodies of the wicked will be raised more spiritual than they were
upon earth, yet that will only make them capable of the more exquisite
torments. They would be glad then, if every member were a dead member,
that it might not feel the punishment inflicted on it; and if the whole
body were a rotten carcass, or might lie down again in the dust. Much
more do they want that moral perfection which the blessed partake of;
those holy dispositions of mind; that cheerful readiness to do the will
of God; that perfect rectitude of all their actions. Instead of these,
they have that perverseness of will, that loathing of good, that love to
evil, that violence of passion, which they had on earth. 'Tis true,
their understandings will be much cleared by the ceasing of former
temptations, and experiencing the falsehood of former delusions. But
they have the same dispositions still; and fain would they commit the
same sins, if they could; they want but opportunity. There will be a
greater difference between these wretches, and the glorified Christian,
than there is betwixt a toad, and the sun in the firmament. The _rich
man's purple, and fine linen, and sumptuous fare_, did not so exalt him
above _Lazarus, while at his gate full of sores_.
§ 4. (2.) They shall have no comfortable relation to God, nor communion
with him. _As they did not like to retain God in their knowledge_; but
said unto him, _Depart from us, for we desire not the knowledge of thy
ways_; so God will abhor to retain them in his household. He will never
admit them to the inheritance of his saints, nor endure them to stand in
his presence, but _will profess unto them, I never knew you, depart from
me, ye that work iniquity_. They are ready now to lay as confident
claim to Christ and heaven, as if they were sincere believing saints.
The swearer, the drunkard, the whore-master, the worldling, can say, Is
not God our Father, as well as yours? But when Christ separates his
followers from his foes, and his faithful friends from his deceived
flatterers, where then will be their presumptuous claims? Then they
shall find, that God is not their Father, because they would not be his
people. As they would not consent that God by his Spirit should dwell in
them, so the tabernacle of wickedness shall have no fellowship with him,
nor the wicked inhabit the city of God. Only they that walked with God
here, shall live and be happy with him in heaven. Little does the world
know what a loss that soul hath, who loses God! What a dungeon would
earth be, if it had lost the sun? What a loathsome carrion the body, if
it had lost the soul? Yet all these are nothing to the loss of God. As
the enjoyment of God is the heaven of the saints, so the loss of God is
the hell of the ungodly. And as the enjoying of God is the enjoying of
all, so the loss of God is the loss of all.
§ 5. (3.) They also lose all delightful affections towards God. That
transporting knowledge; those delightful views of his glorious face; the
inconceivable pleasure of loving him; the apprehensions of his infinite
love to us; the constant joys of his saints, and the rivers of
consolation with which he satisfies them. Is it nothing to lose all
this? The employment of a king in ruling a kingdom, does not so far
exceed that of the vilest slave, as this heavenly employment exceeds
that of an earthly king. God suits men's employments to their natures.
Your hearts, sinners, were never set upon God in your lives, never
warmed with his love, never longed after the enjoyment of him; you had
no delight in speaking or hearing of him; you had rather have continued
on earth, if you had known how, than be interested in the glorious
praises of God. Is it meet then that you should be members of the
celestial choir.
§ 6. (4.) They shall be deprived of the blessed society of angels and
glorified saints. Instead of being companions of those happy spirits,
and numbered with those triumphant kings, they must be members of the
corporation of hell, where they shall have companions of a far different
nature and quality. Scorning and abusing the saints, hating them, and
rejoicing in their calamities, was not the way to obtain their
blessedness. Now you are shut out of that company, from which you first
shut out yourselves; and are separated from them, with whom you would
not be joined. You could not endure them in your houses, nor towns, nor
scarce in the kingdom. You took them as Ahab did Elijah, for the
_troublers of the land_; and, as the apostles were taken, for _men that
turned the world upside down_. If any thing fell out amiss, you thought
all was owing to them. When they were dead or banished, you were glad
they were gone, and thought the country well rid of them. They molested
you by faithfully reproving your sins. Their holy conversation troubled
your consciences, to see them so far excel you. It was a vexation to
you, to hear them pray or sing praises in their families. And is it any
wonder if you be separated from them hereafter? The day is near when
they will trouble you no more. _Betwixt them and you will a great gulf
be fixed._ Even in this life, while the saints were _mocked_,
_destitute_, _afflicted_, _tormented_, and while they had their personal
imperfections; yet, in the judgment of the Holy Ghost, they were such
_of whom the world was not worthy_.[248] Much more unworthy will the
world be of their fellowship in glory.
[Footnote 248] Hebrews xi, 36-38.
§ 7. (11.) I know many will be ready to think, they could spare these
things in this world well enough, and why may they not be without them
in the world to come? Therefore to shew them that this loss of heaven
will then be most tormenting, let them now consider—their understandings
will be cleared to know their loss, and have more enlarged apprehensions
concerning it—their consciences will make a closer application of it to
themselves,—their affections will no longer be stupefied,—nor their
memories be treacherous.
§ 8. (1.) The understandings of the ungodly will then be cleared, to
know the worth of that which they have lost. Now they lament not their
loss of God, because they never knew his excellence; nor the loss of
that holy employment and society, for they were never sensible what they
were worth. A man that has lost a jewel, and took it but for a common
stone, is never troubled at his loss; but when he comes to know what he
lost, then he laments it. Though the understandings of the damned will
not be sanctified, yet they will be cleared from a multitude of errors.
They now think that their honors, estates, pleasures, health, and life,
are better worth their labor, than the things of another world; but when
these things have left them in misery, when they experience the things
which before they did but read and hear of, they will be of another
mind. They would not believe that water would drown, till they were in
the sea, nor the fire burn, till they were cast into it; but when they
feel, they will easily believe. All that error of mind which made them
set light by God, and abhor his worship, and vilify his people, will
then be confuted and removed by experience. Their knowledge shall be
increased, that their sorrows may be increased. Poor souls! they would
comparatively be happy, if their understandings were wholly taken from
them, if they had no more knowledge than ideots, or brute beasts; or if
they knew no more in hell, than they did upon earth, their loss would be
less trouble to them. How happy would they then think themselves, if
they did not know there is such a place as heaven! Now, when their
knowledge would help to prevent their misery, they will but know, or
will not read and study that they may know; therefore, when their
knowledge will but feed their consuming fire, they shall know whether
they will or not. They are now in a dead sleep, and dream they are the
happiest men in the world; but when death awakes them, how will their
judgments be changed in a moment? and they that would not see, shall
then see, and be ashamed.
§ 9. (2.) As their understanding will be cleared, so it will be more
enlarged, and made more capacious to conceive the worth of that glory
which they have lost. The strength of their apprehensions, as well as
the truth of them, will then be increased. What deep apprehensions of
the wrath of God, the madness of sinning, the misery of sinners, have
those souls that now endure this misery, in comparison with those on
earth, that do but hear of it? What sensibility of the worth of life has
the condemned man that is going to be executed, compared with what he
was wont to have in the time of his prosperity? Much more will the
actual loss of eternal blessedness make the damned exceedingly
apprehensive of the greatness of their loss; and as a large vessel will
hold more water than a shell, so will their more enlarged understandings
contain more matter to feed their torment, than their shallow capacity
can now do.
§ 10. (3.) Their consciences also will make a truer and closer
application of this doctrine to themselves, which will exceedingly tend
to increase their torment. It will then be no hard matter to them to
say, "This is my loss! and this is my everlasting remediless misery!"
The want of this self-application is the main cause, why they are so
little troubled now. They are hardly brought to believe that there is
such a state of misery; but more hardly to believe that it is like to be
their own. This makes so many sermons lost to them, and all threatenings
and warnings in vain. Let a minister of Christ shew them their misery
ever so plainly and faithfully, they will not be persuaded they are so
miserable. Let him tell them of the glory they must lose, and the
sufferings they must feel, and they think he means not them, but some
notorious sinners. It is one of the hardest things in the world, to
bring a wicked man to know that he is wicked, or to make him see himself
in a state of wrath and condemnation. Though they may easily find by
their strangeness to the new birth, and their enmity to holiness, that
they never were partakers of them; yet they as verily expect to _see
God_, and _be saved_, as if they were the most sanctified persons in the
world. How seldom do men cry out, after the plainest discovery of their
state, _I am the man_? or acknowledge, that if they die in their present
condition, they are undone for ever? But when they suddenly find
themselves in the land of darkness, feel themselves in scorching flames,
and see they are shut out of the presence of God for ever; then the
application of God's anger to themselves, will be the easiest matter in
the world; they will then roar out these forced confessions, "O my
misery! O my folly! O my inconceivable, irrecoverable loss!"
§ 11. (4.) Then will their affections likewise be more lively, and no
longer stupified. A hard heart now makes heaven and hell seem but
trifles. We have shewed them everlasting glory and misery, and they are
as men asleep; our words are as stones cast against a wall, which fly
back in our faces: we talk of terrible things, but it is to dead men; we
search their wounds, but they never feel us; we speak to rocks, rather
than to men; the earth will as soon tremble as they. But when these dead
souls are revived, what passionate sensibility! what working affections!
what pangs of horror! what depth of sorrow will there then be! How
violently will they fly in their own faces! How will they rage against
their former madness! The lamentations of the most affectionate wife for
the loss of her husband, or of the tenderest mother for the loss of her
children, will be nothing to theirs for the loss of heaven. O the
self-accusing and self-tormenting fury of those forlorn creatures! How
will they even tear their own hearts, and be God's executioners upon
themselves! As themselves were the only meritorious cause of their
sufferings, so themselves will be the chief executioners. Even Satan, as
he was not so great a cause of their sinning as themselves, he will not
be so great an instrument of their torment. How happy would they think
themselves then, if they were turned into rocks, or any thing that had
neither passion nor sense! How happy, if they could then feel, as
lightly as they were wont to hear! if they could sleep out the time of
execution, as they did the time of the sermons, that warned them of it!
But their stupidity is gone; it will not be.
§ 12. (5.) Their memories will moreover be as large and strong as their
understandings and affections. Could they but lose the use of their
memory, their loss of heaven being forgot, would little trouble them.
Though they would account annihilation a singular mercy, they cannot lay
aside any part of their being. Understanding, conscience, affections,
memory, must all live to torment them, which should have helped to their
happiness. As by these they should have fed upon the love of God, and
drawn forth perpetually the joys of his presence, so by these must they
feed upon his wrath, and draw forth continually the pains of his
absence. Now they have no leisure to consider, nor any room in their
memories for the things of another life; but then they shall have
nothing else to do; their memories shall have no other employment. God
would have had the doctrine of their eternal state _written on the posts
of their doors, on their hands and hearts_; he would have had them mind
it, and _mention it when they lay down and rose up, when they sat in
their house, and when they walked by the way_; and seeing they rejected
this counsel of the Lord, therefore it shall be written always before
them in the place of their thraldom, that which way soever they look,
they may still behold it.—It will torment them to think of the greatness
of the glory they have lost. If it had been what they could have spared,
or a loss to be repaired with any thing else, it had been a small
matter. If it had been health, or wealth, or friends, or life, it had
been nothing. But, oh! to lose _that exceeding eternal weight of
glory_!—It will also torment them to think of the possibility they once
had of obtaining it. Then they will remember, "Time was, when I was as
fair for the kingdom as others. I was set upon the stage of the world,
if I had played my part wisely and faithfully, I might now have had
possession of the inheritance. I might have been among yonder blessed
saints, who am now tormented with these damned fiends. The Lord did _set
before me life and death_; and having chose death, I deserve to suffer
it. _The prize_ was held out before me; if I had _run well_, I might
have _obtained it_; if I had _striven_, I might have had _the victory_;
if I had _fought_ valiantly, I had been _crowned_."—It will yet more
torment them to remember, that their obtaining the crown was, not only
possible, but very probable. It will wound them to think, "I had once
the gales of the Spirit ready to have assisted me. I was purposing to
be another man, to have cleaved to Christ, and forsook the world. I was
almost resolved to have been wholly for God. I was once even turning
from my base seducing lusts. I had cast off my old companions, and was
associating myself with the godly. Yet I turned back, lost my hold, and
broke my promises. I was _almost persuaded to be a real Christian_, yet
I conquered those persuasions. What workings were in my heart, when a
faithful minister pressed home the truth! O how fair was I once for
heaven! I almost had it, and yet I have lost it! Had I _followed on to
seek the Lord_, I had now been blessed among the saints."
§ 13. It will exceedingly torment them to remember their lost
opportunities. "How many weeks, and months, and years, did I lose, which
if I had improved I might now have been happy? Wretch that I was! could
I find no time to study the work, for which I had all my time? no time
among all my labors, to labor for eternity? Had I time to eat, and
drink, and sleep, and none to save my soul? Had I time for mirth and
vain discourse, and none for prayer? Could I take time to secure the
world, and none to try my title to heaven? O precious time! I had once
enough, and now I must have no more. I had once so much, I knew not what
to do with it; and now it is gone, and cannot be recalled. O that I had
but one of those years to live over again! How speedily would I repent!
How earnestly would I pray! How diligently would I hear! How closely
would I examine my state! How strictly would I live! But 'tis now too
late, alas! too late."
§ 14. It will add to their calamity to remember how often they were
persuaded to return. "Fain would the minister have had me escape these
torments. With what love and compassion did he beseech me! And yet I did
but make a jest of it. How oft did he convince me! And yet I stifled all
these convictions. How did he open to me my very heart! And yet I was
loth to know the worst of myself. O how glad would he have been, if he
could have seen me cordially turn to Christ! My godly friends admonished
me. They told me what would come of my wilfulness and negligence at
last; but I neither believed, nor regarded them. How long did God
himself condescend to entreat me! How did the _Spirit strive_ with my
heart, as if he was loth to take a denial! How did _Christ stand
knocking_ one Sabbath after another, and crying to me, _Open, sinner,
open thy heart to thy Savior, and I will come in, and sup with thee, and
thou with me! Why dost thou delay? How long shall thy vain thoughts
lodge within thee! Wilt thou not be pardoned, and sanctified, and made
happy? When shall it once be?_" O how the recollection of such Divine
pleadings will passionately transport the damned with self-indignation!
"Must I tire out the patience of Christ? Must I make the God of heaven
follow me in vain, till I had wearied him with crying to me, _Repent,
return_? O how justly is that patience now turned into fury, which falls
upon me with irresistible violence? When the Lord cried to me, _Wilt
thou not be made clean? when shall it once be?_ my heart, or at least my
practice, answered, _Never_. And now when I cry, How long shall it be
till I am freed from this torment? How justly do I receive the same
answer, _Never, never_."
§ 15. It will also be most cutting to remember on what easy terms they
might have escaped their misery. Their work was not to remove mountains,
nor conquer kingdoms, nor fulfil the law to the smallest tittle, nor
satisfy justice for all their transgressions. _The yoke was easy, and
the burden light_, which Christ would have laid upon them. It was but to
repent, and cordially accept him for their Savior; to renounce all other
happiness, and take the Lord for their supreme good; to renounce the
world and the flesh, and submit to his meek and gracious government; and
to forsake the ways of their own devising, and walk in his holy
delightful way. "Ah," thinks the poor tormented wretch, "how justly do I
suffer all this, who would not be at so small pains to avoid it? Where
was my understanding, when I neglected that gracious offer; when I
called _the Lord an hard master_, and thought his pleasant service a
bondage, and the service of the devil and the flesh the only freedom?
Was I not a thousand times worse than mad, when I censured the holy way
of God as needless preciseness? when I thought the laws of Christ too
strict, and all too much that I did for the life to come? What would all
sufferings for Christ and well doing have been, compared with these
sufferings that I must undergo for ever! Would not the heaven, which I
have lost, have recompensed all my losses? And should not all my
sufferings have been there forgotten? What if Christ had bid me do some
great matter; whether to live in continual fears and sorrows, or to
suffer death an hundred times over; should I not have done it? How much
more, when he only said, _Believe and be saved. Seek my face, and thy
soul shall live. Take up thy cross, and follow me, and I will give thee
everlasting life._ O gracious offer! O easy terms! O cursed wretch, that
would not be persuaded to accept them!"
§ 16. This also will be a most tormenting consideration, to remember
what they sold their eternal welfare for. When they compare the value of
the pleasures of sin, with the value of _the recompense of reward_, how
will the vast disproportion astonish them? To think of the low delights
of the flesh, or the applauding breath of mortals, or the possessing
heaps of gold; and then to think of everlasting glory. "This is all I
had for my soul, my God, my hopes of blessedness!" It cannot possibly be
expressed, how these thoughts will tear his very heart. Then will he
exclaim against his folly. "O miserable wretch! Did I set my soul to
sale for so base a price? Did I part with my God for a little dirt and
dross; and sell my Savior, as Judas, for a little silver? I had but a
dream of delight, for my hopes of heaven; and now I am awaked, it is all
vanished. My morsels are now turned to gall, and my cups to wormwood.
When they were past my taste, the pleasure perished. And is this all
that I have had for the inestimable treasure? What a mad exchange did I
make? What if I had gained all the world, and lost my soul? But, alas!
how small a part of the world was it, for which I gave up my part in
glory?" O that sinners would think of this, when they are swimming in
the delights of the flesh, and studying how to be rich and honorable in
the world! When they are desperately venturing upon known transgression,
and sinning against the checks of conscience!
§ 17. It will add yet more to their torment, when they consider that
they most wilfully procured their own destruction. Had they been forced
to sin, it would much abate the rage of their consciences; or if they
were punished for another man's transgressions; or any other had been
the chief author of their ruin. But to think, it was the choice of their
own will, and that none in the world could have forced them to sin
against their wills; this will be a cutting thought: "Had I not enemies
enough in the world (thinks this miserable creature) but I must be an
enemy to myself? God would never give the Devil, nor the world, so much
power over me, as to force me to commit the least transgression. They
could but entice, it was myself that yielded, and did the evil. And must
I lay hands upon my own soul; and embrue my hands in my own blood? Never
had I so great an enemy as myself. Never did God offer any good to my
soul, but I resisted him. He hath heaped mercy upon me, and renewed one
deliverance after another, to draw my heart to him: yea, he hath gently
chastised me, and made me groan under the fruit of my disobedience; and
though I promised largely in my affliction, yet never was I heartily
willing to serve him." Thus will it gnaw the hearts of these sinners, to
remember that they were the cause of their own undoing; and that they
wilfully and obstinately persisted in their rebellion, and were mere
volunteers in the service of the Devil.
§ 18. The wound in their consciences will be yet deeper, when they shall
not only remember it was their own doing, but that they were at so much
cost and pains for their own damnation. What great undertakings did they
engage in to effect their ruin; to resist the Spirit of God; to overcome
the power of mercies, judgments, and even the word of God; to subdue the
power of reason, and silence conscience? All this they undertook, and
performed. Though they walked in continual danger of the wrath of God,
and knew he could lay them in the dust, and cast them into hell, in a
moment; yet would they run upon all this. Oh the labor it costs sinners
to be damned! Sobriety, with health and ease, they might have had at a
cheaper rate; yet they will rather have gluttony and drunkenness, with
poverty, shame, and sickness. Contentment they might have, with ease and
delight; yet they will rather have covetousness and ambition, though it
costs them cares and fears, labor of body, and distraction of mind.
Though their anger be self-torment, and revenge and envy consume their
spirits; though uncleanness destroy their bodies, estates, and good
names; yet will they do and suffer all this, rather than suffer their
souls to be saved. With what rage will they lament their folly, and say,
"Was damnation worth all my cost and pains? Might I not have been damned
on free cost, but I must purchase it so dearly? I thought I could have
been saved without so much ado; and could I not have been destroyed
without so much ado? Must I so laboriously work out my own damnation,
when God commanded me to _work out my salvation_? If I had done as much
for heaven, as I did for hell, I had surely had it. I cried out of the
tedious way of godliness, and the painful course of self-denial; and yet
I could be at a great deal more pains for Satan, and for death. Had I
loved Christ as strongly as I did my pleasures, and profits, and honors,
and thought on him as often, and sought him as painfully, O how happy
had I now been! But justly do I suffer the flames of hell, for buying
them so dear, rather than have heaven when it was purchased to my hands!"
§ 19. O that God would persuade thee, reader, to take up these thoughts
now, for preventing the inconceivable calamity of taking them up in hell
as thy own tormentor! Say not, that they are only imaginary. Read what
Dives thought, _being in torment_.[249] As the joys of heaven are
chiefly enjoyed by the rational soul in its rational actings, so must
the pains of hell be suffered. As they will be men still, so will they
feel and act as men.
[Footnote 249] Luke xvi.