_IMMORTALITY._
"What is man, that Thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that
Thou visitest him?"--Psalm viii. 4.
One or two remarks on the meaning of certain expressions in this Psalm
are necessary before we proceed. The second verse is pictorial, and
has a martial character. Two hosts are seen facing each other. A
beautiful world and a wonderful universe are in view of both.
Children, in their conscious or unconscious admiration of what they
see, and in the early and universal instinct by which they attribute
it to the hand of a great God, effectually rebuke the unbelief of
scoffers and all haters of God, who persistently refuse to recognise
Him in His works. So, even to-day, the simple and pious intuitions of
the race face, fight, and conquer all materialism. The beautiful and
significant application of these words found in the account of our
Lord's triumphal entry into Jerusalem points for all time to the duty
of giving Christian teaching to the young. In our Christian homes and
our Sunday-schools lies the great bulwark against the spread of
infidelity. Such teaching acts on the future. "Instead of the fathers
shall be the children," a generation to serve God. These will become
fathers in their turn. "Take care of the children, and the adults will
take care of themselves."
"What is man, that Thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that
Thou visitest him?" At first sight, it would seem as though the
Psalmist were contrasting the littleness of man with the greatness of
the universe. And, indeed, he does use a word to denote man which
points to his weakness. But this is only David's starting-point in his
aim to correct the impression. The Psalm reveals, not the littleness,
but the greatness of man. "When I consider Thy heavens, the work of
Thy fingers, the moon and the stars which Thou hast ordained; what is
man, that Thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that Thou
visitest him?" How little he looks! Yet how great he must be! "For
Thou makest him to want little of a Divine standing; Thou crownest him
with honour and glory; Thou makest him to have dominion over the work
of Thy hands; Thou puttest all under his feet--all sheep and oxen,
and also beasts of the field, the fowl of the air, and the fish of the
sea--whatsoever passeth through the paths of the sea."
One of the subtlest, and, to a certain degree, one of the most
plausible of the objections of unbelief has been the attempt to instil
into men's minds the idea that it is presumptuous on their part to put
confidence in the apparently sublime, but really fallacious, prospects
which Christianity offers to them with regard to their destiny beyond
this world. God is too great, it is said, and man is too little for us
to admit the thought that God takes such an interest in man, both for
this world and for the next, as the Bible affirms. The tendency of
modern thought is largely in the direction of this view.
It would be easy to overtax our attention by going into too wide a
field. I will speak only of the Christian idea of an immortal and
heavenly life hereafter. It is this which is imperilled; it is this
which is called in question. I have nothing to do now with the debated
question of future punishment. Let me re-state the form of scepticism
with which I have to deal. It is said to be presumptuous to suppose
that we, the creatures of a day, are to be hereafter lifted up to a
state of perfect blessedness, which is to last for ever, in the
presence of God; and we are recommended to leave this dream aside, and
to be content with the position we occupy here and now. "You have much
to be thankful for, even as things are. Let it not be thought a
hardship, if death should prove to be the end of man."
The lines of thought as they start from this point are numerous, and
one is tempted to follow them out. But we must forbear, for the sake
of attending simply to our one purpose. I may, however, point out to
you how partial and unreal is the view which is thus taken of man's
position and of his aspirations. Given the utmost of outward and
present satisfaction, man universally is not content with this. But
how many millions of human beings there are in the world at this
moment to whom the present life can scarcely be said to have been any
boon at all! How many more millions of such beings have lived in the
past. The very ground we tread everywhere cowers beneath human sorrow.
Is it not a cruel mockery to say to the suffering, the enslaved, the
down-trodden: "Be grateful for what you have; it is vain, foolish,
wrong for you to expect or to wish for more"? Some such advice as
this may be given if our Christian hopes are tenable; but if they are
not, we do but insult the suffering if we speak to them in this
fashion.
The kind of unbelief we are anxious to check is spreading. Among the
masses, in many directions, the desire to apprehend spiritual
realities, and to be ruled by them, is increasingly small; the battles
of life and thought are on behalf of the interests of a day; and even
among well-disposed persons the hold of fundamental truth is seriously
relaxed. Hence the necessity for our seeking to strengthen our
cherished convictions, and to discern clearly and grasp firmly "the
faith once delivered to the saints."
If the views we animadvert upon were entertained merely by the
ignorant and the uncultured, we should not so much wonder; but we
_are_ perplexed when we find them so prevalent amongst the wise of
this world, and even by not a few who are reputed to be masters of
human science. It is true that their advancing knowledge gives them
vaster conceptions of the universe which they so unweariedly explore;
but is it not strange that that vaster knowledge does not enhance
their estimate of man, since he _can_ explore so widely and _can_
comprehend so much? Why should religious faith decrease in proportion
as human knowledge is accumulated?
I take the psalm before us as furnishing a triumphant and lasting
reply to the kind of unbelief in question. In Nature, first, God shows
us His estimate of man. The ascent is easy from Nature to Grace, in
which the Divine estimate is raised to its highest point.
We are invited to look around. Can there be any doubt that this
beautiful world, with its immense treasures known and unknown, its
bountiful harvests of every order on land and sea, and its marvellous
variety of life, animate and inanimate, was formed for our sakes? Was
not everything the earth contains made for our use and enjoyment, in
measure increasing with every new discovery? The fruits of the ground,
with each returning season, are prepared for our wants, and in that
preparation, every season, with its sunshine and its shade, its
dryness and its rain, its dews and its storms, is incessantly engaged.
All nature is occupied in the successful attempt to answer the initial
question, "What shall we eat? what shall we drink? and wherewithal
shall we be clothed?" The dress we wear brings innumerable animals
under tribute. "We have dominion over all sheep and oxen, yea, and the
beast of the field, the fowl of the air, and the fish of the sea, and
whatsoever passeth through the paths of the sea." Everything tells us
that, in this world, we are kings--"a little," only a little, "lower
than the angels"--the gods. Between man and the inferior animals there
is as great a distance as between the master and his slave;--nay more,
as between the artizan and his instruments. The irrational animal is
much nearer to the inanimate creation than to man since the end and
purpose of both is to minister to man. This world, therefore, was
manifestly made for us. Who ventures to doubt it? Least of all can it
be doubted by the discoverers of earth's profounder secrets.
We are invited to look still further afield. This world, which is made
for us, is not independent or alone. It is in no sense self-sustained.
It is part of a wonderful and incomprehensible whole. Other great
creations concur in its maintenance. The sun enlightens, warms, and
fertilizes it. The moon and the stars exert manifold influences upon
it. The whole host of heaven has been brought into co-ordinate and
helpful relation to it--yes, _it_: the world which exists _for us_!
"When I consider Thy heavens, the work of Thy fingers, the moon and
the stars which Thou hast ordained;" when I consider the manifold
bearings of Thy universe upon man--what _is_ man! What _must_ he be!
In certain aspects, indeed, apparently small; but, by all these
tokens, how great! We do not say that we are the only moral and
spiritual beings in the midst of so many worlds. We do not know, but
we may accept the probability that God has created beings capable of
adoring and loving Him everywhere. But we do say--and science combines
with Scripture to compel us to say--that these worlds have been in
part created for us, just as our world has been in part created for
them. This is clear. The most sceptical of men cannot venture to doubt
it; nor do they. It is only needful that we should carefully observe
in order to become convinced of this marvellous fact.
So much, then, for what nature teaches. The psalmist sought to learn
the lesson, and it is right that we should seek to learn it too.
This first step being taken, another follows. Man is an object of the
manifold agencies of myriads of worlds. He is so _as man_; and the
relative position he holds, intellectually, morally, or socially, to
his fellow men, has nothing to do with the fact. Nature ministers to
the Caffre and the Hottentot as truly as to the man of most advanced
civilization; the only difference being in the use which the two
opposite classes can make of nature. Why, then, should man refuse to
believe that he is an object of solicitous love to that God who
created him, who made him what he is, and who thus crowned him with
glory and honour? Why should he refuse to believe that God loves him
enough to send His Son to die for him, and thus to save him from the
wreck of his being through sin? Especially, why should he refuse to
believe this when he is assured of it by Him who testified that He was
that Son of God--by Jesus, the man _par excellence_, the God-man? Why
should it be doubted that man is an object of interest to angels, who
are said to rejoice over every sinner that repenteth? Why should it be
doubted that God has provided for him a fairer home than this, that
immortality and heaven are the things which God has in reserve for
him? Why should it be doubted that an everlasting salvation has been
provided for him through such a sacrifice as that of Christ? If sun,
moon, and stars have been made for the service of man, why should it
be hard to believe that God, who counts the stars, and calls them all
by their names, should also heal the broken in heart, and bind up
their wounds?
The prospect of human destiny as opened up by Christianity is grand;
but not too grand to be ascribed to Him who created the universe, and
so arranged it that it should constitute one vast system of
ministration to us. When we see God thus working for man, we cannot be
surprised that angels should be glad to serve him too. Neither can we
wonder that the Son of God should come to save him. The wonder begins
with man's primary relation to the "all things," for our knowledge of
which we are not dependent upon revelation at all. Science teaches us
that; and revelation only endorses it. That is wonderful enough; but
accepting it as a fact, all that revelation teaches, but which science
could not have discovered, follows naturally enough. The facts of
revelation concerning man may be accepted the more implicitly because
they really have their basis in the facts of science. The whole is in
perfect harmony. The one and the other are both represented--and
consistently so--as concurring in the great cause of human happiness.
Try now from the greatness of the means to estimate the greatness of
the end. Is eternal life too much for a being whom the worlds combine
to sustain, to feed, and to bless? Is a heaven of holiness and of love
too much for a being whom angels are delighted to protect? No! The
wonderful thing would be if, after having combined these vast and
various forces to maintain our earthly existence, an Almighty and
All-good God should for ever quench our life after its brief day upon
the earth!
It may be objected that this is a low and selfish view to take of the
matter. It may be said that it is not the life of the individual, but
the life of the race that has to be considered; and that it is enough
for us to live, after we are gone, in the good remembrances of those
who will survive us, and to hope that what we are doing will advance
the interests of those who will follow us. An immortality such as this
is in reality no immortality at all. An unconscious immortality! A
public recognition of what we have been when we shall be no longer! A
public gratitude, which may at best be but precarious to those to whom
it is due, when they are believed to have dropped into nothingness and
thus to be no longer capable of receiving and enjoying it! A progress
merely confined to material interests! And who are sharing in it
to-day? The few who are strong enough to hold their own in the battle
of life! They, and only they! All this is supreme nonsense. The
aspirations of the heart are against it. If man's life ends here, it
was not worth while for him to be born. Millions, in that case, might
justly look up to God and say, "Remember how short my time is:
wherefore hast Thou made all men in vain?"
Nevertheless, lest we should be exalted to pride and self-importance,
let us remember that the grandeur of our destiny is not determined and
measured by our merits, but by the immensity of the Divine goodness.
What have we which we have not received? And since we have received
it, why should we boast as if it were all of our own making?
Ah, it is because Satan can compare our hopes with our rights, and can
help us to do so too, that he succeeds in injecting doubts into our
hearts. Our reply must be, that the eternal and blessed life which we
anticipate is not of _reward_, but of _grace_; not a payment, but a
gift--a gift in harmony with all God's other gifts, but still the
greatest gift of all; and that instead of inflating us with pride, it
may well place us at His feet in lowliest, devoutest thankfulness. By
sin we had forfeited all; but "where sin hath abounded, grace doth
much more abound." God loved the man whom He had created with such
power, and whom He had placed in so commanding a position; and because
He loved him, He resolved to provide a great redemption for him.
What a ground have we here for hope! And what a plea for
evangelisation!