The Difference by John O. Corliss

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Washington, D.C. · Nov 5, 1903

The Difference

By John O. Corliss

J. O. CORLISS

How many times are heard earnest appeals to men exhorting them to give up this world, that they may gain the one to come. In order to influence them to change their course of life, the glories of the eternal world are set forth in eloquent words; the city of God is described from foundation to summit,—the streets of gold, the gates of pearl, together with the precious stones with which its jasper walls are garnished,—all are pictured in glory-hues, in order to stir the hearts of men to obedience in moral things.

But this does not suffice. While heaven is a place much to be desired by the veriest sinner, the sea of glass and the river of life do not make up the sum of heaven's joys; neither does the privilege of entering the pearly gates and walking the golden streets constitute heaven what it is to be. When about leaving his disciples to return to heaven, Jesus said, “I go to prepare a place for you, . . . that where I am, there ye may be also.” John 14: 2, 3. Without the presence of Jesus, all these other things would be dreary, and unsatisfying.

The importance of his presence in order to give fulness of joy in any place, is well illustrated by the following traditional incident: A man who was born blind, having heard others frequently speak of the pleasure of sight, often wished to experience the same. Although having a loving wife and dutiful children, he was often heard to express dissatisfaction with his enforced condition. His constant plea was that he wished to behold his wife and children, whom he so dearly loved. A very skilled occulist, happening to hear of the case, came that way, and upon critical examination of the man's eyes concluded that an operation would give him the coveted joy of sight. The afflicted man gladly submitted to the operation, and to the ensuing tedious confinement, with bandaged eyes, in a dark room. But during the entire time of his imprisonment, he frequently asked when he would be able to see his wife. The answer invariably was, “Not yet, but be patient, and you will soon have the privilege.”

In due time, however, he was told that on a certain day the bandages would be removed from his eyes, and he could then see her who was the joy of his life. When the promised and long-looked-for day arrived, the anxious man could scarcely wait for the surgeon to appear and remove the obstruction from his eyes. At last, however, it was done, and when, in the dimly lighted room, the surgeon was satisfied of the success of his operation, he quietly retired, and sent the wife and children into the presence of the husband and father, that his life's desire might be satisfied. “Is this really my dear wife, and are these my devoted children?” said the man, trembling with joy at the sight of them.

“How glad I am to see you,” he said, and wept for very joy as he embraced them. “What unutterable bliss is this,” he proceeded to say, and then,—as though something was lacking to make his joy complete, he asked: “Where is he who has made me able thus to have the desire of my life gratified? Let me see him. I shall not be satisfied until I behold him, and thank him for all that he has done for me.” Similarly must one feel who first opens his eyes to behold the glories of the future world. As soon as he finds himself able to view its goodly proportions, he can not consider his joy complete until his eyes have feasted on Him who made possible such an opportunity.

So, even amid the gold and the precious stones of the New Jerusalem, the presence of the Lord must be known, for these to be enjoyable. “Where I am.” How precious the thought! Even over there one will not enter into complete happiness, without the sense of Jesus being to him “all, and in all.”