p. 167 | HEAVEN | AdventAI

Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Oct 13, 1859

HEAVEN.

HEAVEN, we suppose, is a place: in other words, there is a locality called heaven. Our very natures ask for some region—city—building, as our home, and our own; and our Saviour's words most clearly point to such an abode; particularly his prayer for those who should believe on his name—"That they also whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory which thou hast given me." "Be with me where I am,"—it is where he went with his glorified humanity—to prepare a place for his disciples. Here we have it in language which perfectly meets the case, and comes right home to our heart. "In my Father's house are many mansions; I go to prepare a place for you." That place is heaven, certainly a heavenly place, because Christ prepares it; and especially because Christ is there, and fills it with his glory.

There will be this Infinite Presence, and also this grand negation—no sin there; "nothing that defileth, or worketh abomination, or maketh a lie." Whoever enter there, enter in a state of perfect and confirmed holiness;—all that can taint or disturb left behind. This consciousness of an eternal parting with sin, that a deforming stain nor a painful thrill can ever reach them more,—this standing up in heaven, erect and emancipate finally from the base and galling chain,—is enough to fill the soul's whole capacity with the most vivid and joyous emotions. Sin away, all evil away; rest perpetual and eternal,—"such remaineth to the people of God"—REST—a great word this in the compass of its blessedness, greater than we now can know; not torpid, indulged ease, but the incapacity of weariness; the absence of assailing temptation, of the beating storms of adversity, of the heaving blasts of passion—none of these,—but the calm, the peace, the rest of the soul. Rest, refreshment, renewing vigor amidst the ceaseless activities of service. There will be these in that world. The idea of activity—service there, is as strongly set forth in the Bible, as the idea of rest. They rest not day nor night, but serve and worship God continually. Yet heaven is a rest: and these two qualities, at once a rest and a service, make it, as one alone could not make it, heaven. It is no extravagance to imagine that the privilege of service, the opportunity of doing good,—of kindly offices, of communicating happiness, will not be wanting in heaven. Society, companionship, then, is another boon and privilege we discover, as we look through the gates into the city;—society without selfishness. Distinctions unquestionably there will be—gradations and ranks in the heavenly economy; one star differing from another star in glory. And yet no ambition, no envy,—all dwelling in harmony—all rejoicing in any honor or privilege attained by others; this distinction or honor, "like the perfumes worn on the person, becomes more sensible and grateful to others who stand near, than to the wearer himself." All will be shedding abroad the perfume of benignant affections wherever they go. There will be also the particulars of society, the recognition of friends. And will it not be something to recognize friends in such a scene, and clad in such habiliments,—something to come together, converse together, live together, with hearts all wedded as one by the pervading glow of holy love?

There will not only be the growth of affection, but, we conceive, the growth of knowledge also. We do not undertake to say that knowledge of every kind will come without effort. We may reasonably hope it will not be so; for such an arrangement must be taking away one blessed source of satisfaction, one salient spring of joy, found in the privilege of acquiring knowledge. The powers then possessed will doubtless be admirable for this service; the mind exalted, the heart made pure, the body glorified, and all adapted to the work; the appetite eager and sharp, and the greatest subjects pressing on the attention. Every inquisitive mind that goes from this world, where he saw through a glass darkly, to heaven, has a great many subjects laid by, laid over for the higher powers and the better opportunities of that state. And we may suppose they will there be the first on his docket of inquiry. Those hard-twisted, Gordian knots, he here could do nothing at all with; those he will notice, if notice he can, even there. Whatever has tried him, overtasked him, and brought him to a stand in this world, he goes there, we may suppose, with a sort of passion to master and to know. And when those higher powers and clearer lights let him into the solution, it cannot be otherwise than that his soul will feel the excitant thrill through all its emotional capacities. How many facts about Christ, for example, we have a desire to know. We can ask the questions; but earth is no place for the answer. How many deep things pertaining to the great scheme of redemption. How many wonderful things pertaining to the works of God and the worlds of immensity—the laws of his physical, as well as his moral universe—these all are beyond and above us. And all sense will abide as a study and a scrutiny for that other and that higher state. And can we there come to them, and master them, and fill our souls with them, without a heavenly satisfaction? Especially when we consider, that they all help to reveal God, the grandeur of his being, the harmony of his attributes, the ineffable glories of his essence. Can we study them, and be enlarged by them in our conceptions, without also being enlarged and exalted in our own blessedness?

Thus far we have been treating of the manifestation of God through his truth and works. We advance now to more direct matters—to heaven as the place of the immediate manifestation of the glory of the Godhead. It is no circular knowledge we now refer to; no matter of remote inference; but of direct vision. There are in the Bible some remarkable expressions, such as, "We shall see him as he is," "Shall see face to face." Here we cannot and live. There we shall and live for ever. The "face" is where all the attributes and affections concenter, and beam forth as from an unclouded sun—called by Peter "Excellent Glory,"—literally, the magnificent glory. The backside of this, the reflex and half-eclipsed stroke of it, we are told, turned Moses into a fountain of radiance, glowing too intensely for his countrymen to bear the unvailed sight of him. What a glory it shall be, when instead of the retreating backside, the near and open face shall be seen. Can you bear it? Yes; then and there. Can you imagine the effect? It will be to make you like him,—bringing you at once into a resemblance and vital union,—pervading you and flooding you with glory. It is this which refines and elevates the character, and which will make you, if there, a very partaker—putting you in possession of the Divine holiness; and what is more wonderful still, making you a partaker—putting you in possession of the Divine nature. And this fact must open upon you the flood-gates of the Divine blessedness. The glory of God becomes your glory; the rest of God, your rest; the joy of God, your joy. The mandate was, the step and the stride now is,—to enter into the joy of your Lord;—to take the possession; to let it surround and fill you; and how strangely it will ravish you;—and the joy shall grow "unspeakable and full of glory;" and love shall wake up all its intensest ardor, and praise call into service all her sweetest strains.

There will be in heaven worship, doubtless, in its gentlest song, and its loudest and universal acclaim—all the harmonies of its sound; the involved and exciting mysteries of music; the powers of its eloquence and its expression exhausted on that work of praise, when the redeemed shall cry: "Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power, and riches and wisdom and strength, and honor and glory and blessing;" then the sublime response, the thundering chorus from innumerable voices shall be heard: "Blessing and honor and glory and power, be unto Him that sitteth upon the throne and the Lamb for ever." How great a matter it will be, to be found at length in heaven. How amazing! "Then to grace how great a debtor!"

Have you a hope of heaven,—expecting to be there? And how is it with you? Are you captivated with the love of this world,—carried away with its fascinations? buried up in its cares, covered and defiled with its sweat and its dust? It is not right, not fitting? Beware, or you come short. See to it that you do not,—that yours is a heavenly spirit, a heavenly life. Then the end will be heavenly, unspeakably glorious.—Independent.