The Renovation of the Earth.
Very fearful, indeed, is the scene which St. Peter (2 Pet. iii, 10) brings before us. But, then, I beg you to examine, and see it is not a universal destruction of which he speaks. Its purpose is the perdition of the ungodly, the sweeping away of the banded enemies of God, the uprooting of all His foes, the breaking in pieces of all combinations against Him. And after this is accomplished, the earth is to put on a new phase of beauty, in which no one discordant element shall again appear. This destruction was accomplished once by a flood. It will be again by fire. In the flood the apostle says, "The earth perished." Moses says it was "destroyed." How did it perish? How was it destroyed? Simply in reference to its state for a time as an habitable globe. No other destruction was wrought by the flood. None other will be by the fire. The earth is to be purified from the presence of the banded enemies of our Lord and his Christ. Its imprisoned fires are to be let loose. Earthquakes shall rend it. Volcanic eruptions shall change it. The heavens, i. e., the atmosphere, shall pass away with a great noise, is very descriptive in this phrase. It is passed by with a rushing sound, as of a tornado. It is a fearful commotion, but it does not at all convey the idea of universal destruction. The description of the apostle very strikingly reminds one of the terrors attending the eruptions of the great volcanoes. "One cannot," says Bishop Berkley, "form a juster idea of the noise emitted by the mountain, (Vesuvius), than by imagining a mixed sound made up of the raging of a tempest, the murmur of a troubled sea, and the roaring of thunder and artillery, confused altogether. Though we heard this at the distance of twelve miles, yet it was very terrible." In 1744 the flames of Cotopaxi rose three thousand feet above the brink of the crater, and its roarings were heard at the distance of six hundred miles. (Dick.) Of an eruption from Kilauea Hawaii, here is the following account: "The lavas rolled on, sometimes sluggishly and sometimes violently. It swept away forests in its course, at times parting and inclosing islets of earth and shrubbery, and at other times undermining and bearing away masses of rock and vegetation on its surface. Finally, it plunged into the sea with loud intonations. The burning lava, on meeting the waters, was shivered like melting glass into millions of particles, which were thrown up in clouds that darkened the sky, and fell like a storm of hail over the surrounding country. Vast columns of steam and vapors rolled off before the wind, whirling in ceaseless agitation, and the reflected glare of the lavas formed a fiery firmament overhead. For three weeks this terrific river disgorged itself into the sea, without abatement."—Dana's Geology, U. S. Exploring Expedition*, p. 190. The intense heat of the fountain and stream of lava, caused an influx of cool air from every quarter. This created terrific whirlwinds, which, constantly stalking about, like so many sentinels, bade defiance to the daring visitor.—American Journal of Science, Sept. 1852, p. 258. Now, you have but to enlarge this scene. You have but to suppose the imprisoned fires, that glow beneath the surface of the earth, to be let loose, in order to realize the terrific grandeur of the event sketched by St. Peter. And so perfect is the preparation for this, that Mr. Lyell says: "When we consider the combustible nature of the elements of the earth, so far as they are known to us; the facility with which their compounds may be discomposed, and enter into new combinations, the quantity of heat which they evolve during these processes; when we recollect that water itself is composed of two gases, which by their union produce intense heat; we may be allowed to share the astonishment of Pliny that a single day should pass without a general conflagration.—Principles of Geology, vol. ii, p. 451. As yet the hand that formed these elements restrains them. He will do so until his designs are accomplished. They are powerless against Him. When the appointed time has come, those restraints will be lifted off. He who kindled these fires will summon them to their work. He will let loose the imprisoned elements; the instrumentalities that have slumbered so long will come forth to their mission. When this is done, the new heavens and the new earth appear, and a new order of things is set up. And so St. Paul teaches when he says: "And thou, Lord, in the beginning hast laid the foundation of the earth, and the heavens are the work of thy hand. They shall perish, but thou remainest." But how perish? The next verse answers, "And as a vesture shalt thou fold them up, and they shall be changed." Heb. i, 10, 12. Aye, that is it. "Changed!" The curse shall be lifted off. The blight of sin shall rest upon the works of God no more. Now, all creation is subject to unholy uses. The sun shines on the evil, as well as on the good. The moon and the stars look down on wrong and oppression and crime. The sighing of the prisoner, the down-trodden and the oppressed, goes forth on every breeze. The earth nourishes those who defy its maker and theirs. The rains fall on the lands of those who are rebels against God, and tyrants over man. All the courses of nature minister to those who harden themselves in opposition to His will, and the very air that bears life and blessings upon its wings, is returned in curses to Him who bade it blow! The earth was made teeming with wondrous beauty. Now, thorns, thistles, and noxious weeds infest it. Tempests sweep across it, earthquakes rend its bosom, pestilence and disease go forth through every land, and decay and death reign everywhere with resistless sway, but in all these respects it shall be cleansed. It shall be restored to beauty, equal to that which first adorned it. Again, it shall lie in the light of its Creator's smile, but that Creator shall then assume the dearer name, and wear the brighter crown of its Redeemer. No cloud of sin shall darken it again. A beauty, a glory, and a blessedness worthy of its Redeemer's work, shall be its everlasting portion, and God's will shall then "Be done on earth, as it is in Heaven." Then the scene which the poet has sketched from the volume of the Book shall be realized, and "One song employ all nations, and all cry,
Worthy the Lamb, for He was slain for us.
Worthy the Lamb, the hills and plains reply.
The dwellers in the vales and on the rocks,
Shout to each other, and the mountain tops
From different mountains catch the flying joy,
Till nation after nation taught the strain,
Earth rolls the rapturous hosanna round!" I know not, brethren, how this theme may affect you, but for myself, I confess I cannot dwell upon it without a quickening pulse at the thought of the final and glorious triumph which it sets before us. I bless God for the bright glimpses of the splendors which shall mark the Redeemer's reign. It is a wondrous privilege to be permitted to look forward and contemplate the period of his glorious return to earth. It is a blessed thing to turn the eye of faith upon the brightness of his many crowns. And, as we dwell thereon, that which places a hope firmer than an adamantine rock, beneath our feet, is that the pathway to those crowns leads up from the foot of the cross—the cross of Christ. Oh, it shall yet be the central figure of all creation's history! From it shall go forth the mighty attraction, that shall hold the universe together. And as worlds revolve around their central sun, so shall the universe move in its mighty orbit, round the central fact of Christ and Him crucified. On that cross the Saviour won his crown. His agony and bloody sweat, his cross and passion, invest it with all its glories. The brightness of the one would have had no existence but for the shame and humiliation of the other. And his example here points out a great truth to us. If we would attain to the glory of His kingdom, we must seek and find an interest in his cross. Faith in Jesus Christ must unite us with his death, or we shall have no share in all the blessings which that death secured. The cross must lead us to the crown. Only in its shadow are we safe; only in the death which it sets forth can we attain to life; only through the shame which it records can we receive a title to the glory and blessedness of the everlasting kingdom.—Lectures on Daniel.