LIFE, in the abstract,—the actual motor of consciousness,—is something beyond man's power to analyze. Its origin and subtle power place it among those things which lie beyond the precincts of human reasoning, where it must remain among the secret things of Him who has power to vail Himself and yet reveal the majesty of His power. The facts of life's existence and power may be observed and carefully noted, but the secret of its animating proclivities has never been fathomed.
There are denominated various kinds of life, plant, animal, etc.; but, after due study, all must finally be agreed that the life in all is the same so far as its mysterious virtues are concerned; for, let it depart from plant or animal, to science there is no known method of restoration. Then life in any form must have its seat of empire beyond the circuit of human thought. Its origin is absolutely divine.
But, altho life is of divine nature, it does not perform exactly the same functions for all alike. Possessed by trees and plants, it produces fiber, leaf, and expansion, but no power of locomotion. The lower animals have the power denied vegetation, yet are refused the social and commercial privileges of those still above them. Humanity is endowed with intelligent speech, yet, as already seen in the matter of life, there are some depths of knowledge to which it is not permitted to penetrate. Life, then, is not itself the knowledge; for if it were, its possession by man would give him all knowledge, even that which is infinite. Again, its possession by plants would also bestow upon them the power of thought. Further still, there could not be the difference now seen in the intelligence of men. Then the robust, vigorous, strong-bodied man would be the intelligent one, independent of cultivated powers, while the pale, weak, under-sized person would be far below him.
Life is, therefore, but the motive power conferred,—loaned by God,—that destiny may be wrought out in the way its possessor wills. When a being, whether animal or human, lays down life, he goes to the one common place,—back to the original element from whence he came. This is plainly set forth by the inspired wise man: "That which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts; even one thing befalleth them: as the one dieth, so dieth the other; yea, they have all one breath; so that a man hath no pre-eminence above a beast; for all is vanity. All go unto one place; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again." Eccl. 3:19, 20. Thus is established the fact that in the matter of life and death man is governed the same as every other creature. So far as observation goes, all are ready to testify to the truthfulness of the last statement of the sacred writer, but there has been some indistinctness of sentiment regarding the disposition of the animating power which leaves the body. Let us therefore linger a moment here.
In the formation of man the two elements of his make-up are distinctly noticed, and each placed in its proper setting: "The Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life: and man became a living soul." Gen. 2:7. Notice that a perfect man was formed out of earth, and then simply animated,—made a living creature,—by breathing into him life from God. In other words, man, complete in every part and function, was formed, yet lacking the animation by which the various parts were to be supplied with executive ability. This was supplied by the breath of God's life, which made man responsible to God for the use made of his creature functions.
Inasmuch as the perfect machinery thus created was to be operated by the motive power of God's being, it was certainly optional with God as to what that power should be permitted to do. He surely could not permit it to operate in violation of the perfect principles of His own being, for that would be to sanction wrong. He therefore restricted the use of that life, to be in harmony with his own divine will as exercised in heaven. So long as man was willing to do this, there was nothing in the law of his being or in the decree of heaven that could take from him the gift of that life. But the moment he should undertake to use the life of God to operate his functions contrary to God's will, it was then God's prerogative to take away from man the life by which he was misrepresenting his Maker.
As God joined together the earthly form and His own life, in order to connect Himself with His creation, and be seen through it, so when that creation no longer reflected divinity in the use to which it put God's life, it was necessary for the separation of the two to take place,—God to take back His own to Himself, as it was, and let the other resolve back to its original state. On this point man was put fairly on guard. Placing a test in the garden where man was enjoying God's life, the Lord said to him, "Of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it; for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die." Gen. 2:16, 17.
Thus the issue was squarely placed. In the man's mind, the life he possessed was not absolutely his, to do with as he pleased, but God's, to be used as He willed. It was also plain to him that when he should undertake to use God's life in wrong-doing, he would forfeit that life to God, whose life it was. So, then, as long as the intrusted life would be used by man to reveal and glorify God, it would be permitted to remain in his keeping, but always as God's own treasure.
But the story of man's disloyalty has been heralded to every part of creation, and its results duly noted: "Wherefore, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned." Rom. 5:12. Man now comes into the world, and sooner or later he gives up the life that animated him, and lies down in silence. The separation of life and body, the final leave-taking of earthly scenes, is quickly passed, and, as already found, the body goes back to mother earth.
All this because the animating power of life refuses longer to tenant the earthly tabernacle. But what of its exit? Whither is it bound? and for what purpose? The story is a simple one, and quickly told: "Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was; and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it." Eccl. 12:7. Thus when the dust goes back to be as it was, the animating spirit, by which it had moved, thought, and spoken, returns to God, the Giver. It having fulfilled its mission in extending probation to man, that he might signify his desire to serve God for the continuation of its privileges, it passes back to the great Fountain of life, the bosom of Jehovah. Ps. 36:9.
Had not the love of God provided a restoration of His life to those who signify a desire for it, the separation of God's life from the physical man would have been the end of all such connection. Indeed, God could not supply indefinitely to any one His own pure life with which to continue in sin and blasphemy. So, in order to regain God's life, man must break with sin, espouse the service of God, and so represent Him in the earth as the signal of desire to live forever with God. But man can not by his own goodness so fully represent God as to retain life perpetually. To receive it again as it was first given, it must be as a gift from God, its absolute Owner. Rom. 6:23. The process by which this is brought about must, however, be the theme of another paper.