THE RESURRECTION by Rev. A. Kingman Nott

Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Sep 8, 1859

THE RESURRECTION.

By Rev. A. Kingman Nott

THERE is not a departed joy, or hope, or expectation of the Christian, but will be restored to him in the resurrection of his Lord. I mourn not so much over the body or person of my friend who is gone, as I mourn over the lives and hopes that have been blasted and withered by the same touch of death and buried with him; but the resurrection of the Lord teaches me that there is a day to dawn when there will be restored to me in heaven all that I have loved and lost; and not more eagerly will I clasp to my arms the forms of those who are dear, than I will lay to my heart these blessed memories which I thought had gone perhaps for ever, and which now have come bounding back to me. I care not what or how trivial they may be, they shall all come back. There will not be a treasure over which the zealous eye of the Lord will not watch, and which his careful hand will not restore to the arms and fixed possession of his followers.

Nothing valuable, nothing dear to the Christian, is too trivial to be treasured by the Lord. Nothing good perishes. It is impossible. Out of the world's wreck, all that is worth saving will be saved. Every corner of the creation will be searched, the sea shall give up the dead that are in them. The trivialities of life! who does not know, though he may blush to have it said, that the dearest and most intimate affections of the heart are often called forth by objects so slight that we would not have another know it—the little things which we have laid away in a corner of our hearts, and upon which we doat so fondly! Has not a parent's fountain of tears been broken up by the sight of a little stray shoe which once imprisoned a tiny foot that is since enshrouded in the grave? Who does not confess this element of our nature—not of human weakness, but of human power! In the great day of the resurrection there will be nothing missing. That Jesus who, in the mighty act of conquering death, remembered to lay aside his shroud with care, and folded the napkin and put it away in a place by itself, will overlook nothing. The widow's mite will be returned a thousand fold into her bosom as a mine of overflowing wealth. The cup of cold water given to a disciple will flow back a fountain of everlasting joy. Nothing, I care not whether it be a soft ringlet or the memory of a child's smile, that has been cherished by a saint of the Lord, but will be sacredly preserved, while the earth returns to chaos, and given back to him.

Oh, then, what a glorious morn will the resurrection be! Methinks I see the glad procession coming up—a multitude, to which the throng I behold to-night is but a drop in the vast ocean whom no man can number! I see them coming up in robes of white, with crowns of everlasting joy upon their heads, and palms of victory in their hands. I hear their shouts of gladness as they cry, 'Victory! worthy is the Lamb that hath redeemed us!' Fathers and mothers grasp children long lost. Husbands and wives, separated many centuries, fall again into each other's arms. I hear a voice which calls my own name! I start as did Mary when Jesus gently uttered that word, 'Mary!' That voice! I had dreamed of it all through my life, ever since my boyhood. I know it; and the child is clasped in the arms of its mother, who cries out, 'My son!' and the child looks up and whispers, 'Mother!' in the old familiar strain, and rests again in the bosom that gave it life. I behold these reunions: no one comes alone or empty-handed, but all go with arms full and laps laden with treasures, which the grave and the sea had buried, but which now are all restored for ever with the coming back of Jesus.—Rev. A. Kingman Nott.