The Popular Hope, and Our's.
By Uriah Smith
It has ever been the aim of the great enemy of all truth, to corrupt the pure teachings of the Word of God, with the baneful poison of superstition and error; to instill into the minds of men, among sentiments which they may have formed correctly, other sentiments which are wrong, that their views of truth may be perverted, that they may build upon a false foundation, and be deluded with a false hope. A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump. One great point on which he has effected a wide departure from the teachings of the Word of God, is, the Christian's hope—the condition of the saints, and their reward, hereafter—the prize to which they may look during their earthly pilgrimage. The popular creeds of the present day throughout the length and breadth of the land, give fearful proof of this assertion. The Bible presents to the eye of the Christian, a glorious reward, tangible and real; yet so many vague mysticisms are thrown around it by the doctrines and suppositions of men, that the harmony and beauty of the sacred teachings are lost sight of, the glories of the reward are dispelled, and the Christian's hope is spiritualized away into the emptiness of nothing. The promises are, that the Lord will create a new heaven and a new earth, [Isa. lxv, 17; lxvi, 22; Rev. xxi, 1, 5; 2 Pet. iii, 13.] wherein dwelleth righteousness; that the kingdom and dominion and the greatness of the kingdom under the whole heaven, shall be given to the people of the saints of the Most High, and they shall possess it forever, even forever and ever; [Dan. vii, 18, 27;] that the meek shall inherit the earth; [Ps. xxxvii, 11; Matt. v, 5;] that there is a glorious city, having the glory of God, whose light is like unto jasper stone clear as crystal, whose streets are pure gold, as it were transparent glass, whose gates are pearl, and whose foundation is garnished with all manner of precious stones; into which those shall have right to enter, who have kept the commandments of God and the faith of Jesus; and its location will be on the new earth, when the tabernacle of God shall be with men, Isa. lxv, 18; Heb. xi, 10; xii, 22; xiii, 14; Rev. iii, 12; xxi. Such are the plain teachings of the Word; yet the sentiments of popular theology are, that the abode of the saints is in some far off region, "beyond the bounds of time and space;" that their inheritance is spiritual, not real; and that they themselves are formless, viewless, ethereal substances, floating through the immensity of space. If we had no better hope than that, dark as this old earth is, I would cling to it as long as I could. If that is what they would term, "out of the body," I would much prefer to remain "in the body." If that is man's only hope, I cannot say with them, "I hope that I have a hope." It was once remarked by a person while conversing upon the view that the earth restored to its Eden beauty, as real as "the earth that now is," was to be the final home of the saints; that they were to inhabit it forever, free from all sorrow, pain and death, and know and see each other face to face—Why, said he, that cannot be: that is just what would suit the world: that is just what the wicked would like. The remark that the wicked would like it, was very true, but the sentiment which prompted it, was wrong. Here is a great mistake into which many have apparently fallen. They seem to think that religion with all its attributes, and its final reward, must be something, for which the world could have no desire; hence when any state of happiness is named, for which the heart of man, in his fallen condition, would truly long, they think it can be no part of true religion. 'Tis true that those who are the servants of sin, alienated from God and his love, have no relish for purity and holiness, and the Christian life; but when the time comes and they see the Christian's final reward, then they will see something that is to be desired, something which they would like; and piercing will be their anguish, when they realize their loss. However much they may then desire it, one thing is certain, they cannot obtain it. Eye hath not seen, says Paul, [1 Cor. ii, 9,] nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him. But because mortal man cannot comprehend them, does it follow that they are any the less real? When we read of the mighty and glorious city, [Rev. xxi,] with its streets of gold, as it were transparent glass, its rich and massive gates of pearl, and its gorgeous foundation stones, does it detract from its glory so far as we can comprehend it, to realize that it is a literal city? that it is enduring substance, and our eyes shall behold it as we now behold the things of earth? And when we think upon the earth renewed, does it not enhance its beauty and loveliness, to think that it will be a living reality, and not a baseless shadow? Brethren, we have a glorious hope. We know for what we toil. We know whither we are journeying. The kingdom is before us; and the King himself has given us the conditions of an entrance therein: If ye would enter into life, keep the commandments. With the lamp of prophecy to guide us, with the Blessed Hope to cheer us, with God and good angels to guard and protect us, we can endure to the end; we can gain an entrance into that everlasting kingdom, an entrance into that city which hath no need of the sun neither of the moon to shine in it; for the glory of God lightens it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.