'Seeing that ye look for such things.' What things? Peter has been
drawing a very vivid and solemn picture of the end, in two parts, one
destructive, the other constructive. Anticipating the predictions of
modern science, which confirm his prophecy, he speaks of the dissolution
of all things by fervent heat, and draws therefrom the lesson: 'What
manner of persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation and
godliness?'
But that dissolution by fire is not, as people often call it, the 'final
conflagration.' Rather is it a regenerating baptism of fire, from which
'the heavens and the earth that now are'--like the old man in the fable,
made young in the flame--shall emerge renewed and purified. The lesson
from that prospect is the words of our text.
Now I am not going to dwell upon that thought of a new heaven and a new
earth renewed by means of the fiery change that shall pass upon them,
but simply to remark that there is a great deal in the teaching of both
Old and New Testaments which seems to look in that direction. It is, at
least, a perfectly tenable belief, and in my humble judgment is
something more, that this earth, the scene of man's tragedy and crime,
the theatre of the display of the miracle of redeeming love, emancipated
from the bondage of corruption, shall be renewed and become the seat of
the blessed. They who dwell in it, and it on which they dwell pass
through analogous changes, and as for the individuals, the 'new
creation' is the old self purified by the fire of the Divine Spirit into
incorruption and righteousness, so the world in which they live shall,
in like manner, be 'that new world which is the old,' only having
suffered the fiery transformation and been glorified thereby.
But passing from that thought, which, however interesting it may be as a
matter of speculation, is of very small practical importance, notice,
still further, the essential part of the hope which the Apostle here
sets forth--viz., that that order of things towards which we may look is
one permeable only for feet that have been washed and made clean.
'Therein dwelleth righteousness.' _Righteousness_ there, of course, is
the abstract for the concrete; the quality is put for the persons that
exhibit it. And just as the condition of being at home in this present
material world is the possession of flesh and blood, which puts
creatures into relationships therewith, and just as it is impossible for
a finite, bodyless spirit to move amongst, and influence, and be
influenced by, the gross materialities of the heavens and the earth that
now are, so is it impossible for anything but purity to be at rest in,
or even to enter into that future world. 'The gates' of the New
Jerusalem 'shall not be closed day nor night'; but through the ever-open
gates none can pass except they who have washed their robes and made
them white in the blood of the Lamb. There stand at the gates of that
Paradise unseen, the repulsions of the angel with the flaming sword,
and none can enter except the righteous. Light kills the creatures of
the darkness.
'How pure that soul must be
Which, placed within Thy piercing sight,
Shall shrink not, but with calm delight
Can live, and look on Thee!'
Thus, then, brethren, an order of things free from all corruption, and
into which none can pass but the pure, should be the vision that ever
flames before us. Peter takes it for granted that the anticipation of
that future is an inseparable part of the Christian character. The word
which he employs, by its very form, expresses that that expectance is
habitual and continuous. I am afraid that a great many so-called
Christians very seldom send their thoughts, and still less frequently
their desires, onwards to that end. In all your dreams of the future,
how much space has been filled by this future which is no dream? Have
you, in these past days, and do you, as a matter of habitual and
familiar occupation of your mind, let your eyes travel on beyond and
above the low levels of earth and peradventures, to fix them on that
certainty?
Opticians make glasses with three ranges, and write upon a little bar
which shifts their eyepieces, 'Theatre,' 'Field,' 'Marine.' Which of the
three is your glass set to? The turn of a button determines its range.
You can either look at the things close at hand, or, if you set the
eyepiece right and use the strongest, you can see the stars. Which is it
to be? The shorter range shows you possibilities; the longer will show
you certainties. The shorter range shows you trifles; the longer, all
that you can desire. The shorter range shows you hopes that are destined
to be outgrown and left behind; the longer, the far-off glories, a
pillar of light which will move before you for ever. Oh, how many of the
hopes that guided our course, and made our objective points in the past,
are away down below the backward horizon! How many hopes we have
outgrown, whether they were fulfilled or disappointed. But we may have
one which will ever move before us, and ever draw our desires. The
greater vision, if we were only wise enough to bring our lives
habitually under its influence, would at once dim and ennoble all the
near future.
Let us then, dear friends, not desecrate that wondrous faculty of
looking before as well as after which God has given to us, by wasting it
upon the nothings of this world, but heave it higher, and anchor it more
firmly in the very Throne of God Himself. And for us let one solemn,
blessed thought more and more fill with its substance and its light the
else dim and questionable and insufficient future, and walk evermore as
seeing Him who is invisible, and as hasting unto the coming of the day
of the Lord.
II. Then, secondly, note the definite aim which this clear hope should
impress upon life.
If you knew that you were going to emigrate soon, and spend all your
life on the other side of the world, in circumstances the outlines of
which you knew, you would be a fool if you did not set yourself to get
ready for them. The more clearly we see and the more deeply we feel that
future hope, which is disclosed for us in the words of my text, the more
it will prescribe a dominant purpose which will give unity, strength,
buoyancy, and blessedness to any life. 'Seeing that ye look for such
things, be diligent.' For what? 'That ye may be found of Him in peace,
without spot, and blameless.'
Now mark the details of the aim which this great hope impresses upon
life, as they are stated in the words of my text. Every word is weighty
here. 'That ye may be _found_.' That implies, if not search, at least
investigation. It suggests the idea of the discovery of the true
condition, character, or standing of a man which may have been hidden or
partially obscured before--and now, at last, is brought out clearly.
With the same suggestion of investigation and discovery, the same phrase
is employed in other places; as, for instance, when the Apostle Paul
speaks about being 'found naked,' or as when he speaks about being
'found in Him, not having mine own righteousness.' So, then, there is
some process of examination or investigation, resulting in the
discovery, possibly for the first time, of what a man really is.
Then note, 'Found _in Him_,' or as the Revised Version reads it, 'in His
sight.' Then Christ is the Investigator, and it is before 'those pure
eyes and perfect judgment' that they have to pass, who shall be admitted
into the new heavens and the new earth, 'wherein dwelleth
righteousness.'
Then mark what is the character which, discovered on investigation by
Jesus Christ, admits there: 'without spot and blameless.' There must be
the entire absence of every blemish, stain, or speck of impurity. The
purer the white the more conspicuous the black. Soot is never so foul as
when it lies on driven snow. They who enter there must have nothing in
them akin to evil. 'Blameless' is the consequence of 'spotless.' That
which in itself is pure attracts no censure, whether from the Judge or
from the assessors and onlookers in His court.
But, further, these two words, in almost the same identical form--one of
them absolutely the same, and the other almost so--are found in Peter's
other letter as a description of Jesus Christ Himself. He was a Lamb
'without blemish and without spot.' And thus the character that
qualifies for the new heavens is the copy of us in Jesus Christ.
Still further, only those who thus have attained to the condition of
absolute, speckless purity and conformity to Jesus Christ will meet His
searching eye in calm tranquillity and be 'found of Him _in peace_.'
The steward brings his books to his master. If he knows that there has
been trickery with the figures and embezzlement, how the wretch shakes
in his shoes, though he may stand apparently calm, as the master's keen
eye goes down the columns! If he knows that it is all right, how calmly
he waits the master's signature at the end, to pass the account! The
soldiers come back with victory on their helmets, and are glad to look
their captain in the face. But if they come back beaten, they shrink
aside and hide their shame. If we are to meet Jesus Christ with quiet
hearts, and we certainly shall meet Him, we must meet Him 'without spot
and blameless.' The discovery, then, of what men truly are will be like
the draining of the bed of a lake. Ah, what ugly, slimy things there are
down in the bottom! What squalor and filth flung in from the houses, and
covered over many a day by the waters! All that surface work will be
drained off from the hearts of men. Shall we show slime and filth, or
shall we show lovely corals and silver sands without a taint or a speck?
These are the details of the life's aim of a Christian man. And they may
all be gathered up into one. The end which we should seek as sovereign
and high above all others is the conformity of our character to Jesus
Christ our Lord. Never mind about anything else; let us leave all in
God's hands. He will do better for us than we can do for ourselves. Let
us trust Him for the contingent future; and let us set ourselves to
secure this, that, whether joy or sorrow, whether wealth or poverty,
whether success or failure, whether sweet companionship or solitary
tears be our lot for the rest of our lives, we may grow in grace, and in
the knowledge and likeness of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Make
that your aim, and freshness, buoyancy, enthusiasm, the ennobling of
everything in this world, and the bending of all to be contributory of
it, will gladden your days. Make anything else your aim, and you fail of
your highest purpose, and your life, however successful, will be dreary
and disappointed, and its end will be shame.
III. Lastly, notice the earnest diligence with which that aim should be
pursued, in the light of that hope.
Peter is fond of using the word which is here translated 'be diligent.'
Hard work, honest effort, continuous and persevering, is His simple
recipe for all nobleness. You will find He employs it, for instance, at
least three times in this letter, in such connections as, 'Besides this,
giving all diligence, add to your faith virtue,' and so on through the
whole glorious series; and again, 'Wherefore the rather, brethren, give
diligence to make your calling and election sure.' So, then, there is no
mystery about the way of securing the aim; work towards it, and you will
get it.
Now, of course, there are a great many other considerations to be
brought in in reference to the Christian man's means of becoming
Christlike. We should have to speak of the gifts of a Divine Spirit, of
the dependence upon God for it, and the like; but for the present
purpose we may confine ourselves to Peter's own prescription, 'be
diligent,' and that will secure it. But then the word itself opens out
into further meanings than that. It not only implies diligence: there
may be diligence of a very mechanical and ineffective sort. The word
also includes in its meaning earnestness, and it very frequently
includes that which is the ordinary consequence of earnestness--viz.,
haste and economy of time.
So I venture, in closing, just to throw my remarks into three simple
exhortations. Be in earnest in cultivating a Christlike character.
Half-and-half Christians, like a great many of us, are of no use either
to God or to men or to themselves. Dawdling and languid, braced up and
informed by no earnestness of purpose, and never having had enthusiasm
enough to set themselves fairly alight, they do no good and they come to
nothing. 'I would thou wert cold or hot.' One thing sorely wanted in the
average Christianity of this day is that professing Christians should
give the motives which their faith supplies for earnest consecration due
weight and power. Nothing else will succeed. You will never grow like
Christ unless you are in earnest about it any more than you could pierce
a tunnel through the Alps with a straw. It needs an iron bar tipped with
diamond to do it. Unless your whole being is engaged in the task, and
you gather your whole self together into a point, and drive the point
with all your force, you will never get through the rock barrier that
rises between you and the fair lands beyond. Be in earnest, or give it
up altogether.
Then another thing I would venture to say is, Make it your _business_ to
cultivate a character like that of Jesus Christ. If you would go to the
work of growing a Christ-like spirit one-hundredth part as
systematically as you will go to your business to-morrow, and stick at
it, there would be a very different condition of things in most of our
hearts. No man becomes noble and good and like the dear Lord 'by a
jump,' without making a systematic and conscious effort towards it.
I would say, lastly, Make haste about cultivating a Christlike
character. The harvest is great, the toil is heavy, the sun is drawing
to the west, the evening shadows are very long with some of us, the
reckoning is at hand, and the Master waits to count your sheaves. There
is no time to lose, brother; set about it as you have never done before,
and say, 'This one thing I do.'
And so let us not fill our minds with vain hopes which, whether they be
fulfilled or not, will not satisfy us, but lift our eyes to and stay our
anticipations on those glories beyond, as real as God is real, and as
certain as His word is true. Let these hopes concentrate and define for
us the aims of our life; and let the aims, clearly accepted and
recognised, be pursued with earnestness, with 'diligence,' with haste,
with the enthusiasm of which they, and they only, are worthy. Let us
listen to our Master, 'I must work the works of Him that sent Me while
it is day; the night cometh.' And let us listen to the words of the
servant, which reverse the metaphor, and teach the same lesson in a
trumpet call which anticipates the dawn and rouses the sleeping
soldiers: 'The night is far spent, the day is at hand. Let us cast off
the works of darkness and put on the armour of light.'