exlim/blb
2
0
Fork 0
Code Issues Pull Requests Actions Packages Projects Releases Wiki Activity
blb/Comm/charles_spurgeon/sermons/0056.html

648 lines
36 KiB
HTML
Raw Blame History

<html>
<head>
<title>Blue Letter Bible: Text Commentaries</title>
<script src="../../../js/basepath.js" type="text/javascript"></script>
<script src="./js/nav.js" type="text/javascript"></script>
<script src="./js/MainHeader.js" type="text/javascript"></script>
<script>
PriorSectionURL = './Comm/charles_spurgeon/sermons/0055.html';
PriorSection = '';
NextSectionURL = './Comm/charles_spurgeon/sermons/0057.html';
NextSection = '';
Title = 'Heaven';
commTitle = 'The New Park Street Pulpit';
</script>
<script src="./js/Comms/CHS.js" type="text/javascript"></script>
<h4 style="text-align: center">
A Sermon<br>
(No. 56)<br>
Delivered on Sabbath Morning, December 16th, 1855, by the<br>
REV. C. H. SPURGEON<br>
At New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.<br>
</h4>
<p class="scripture">
"As it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither
have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath
prepared for them that love him. But God hath revealed
<i>them</i> unto us by his Spirit; for the Spirit searcheth all
things, yea, the deep things of God."— <a onClick="return mV('1Cr', 2, '9-10');">1Cr 2:9-10</a>
</p>
<p class="indent">
HOW very frequently verses of Scripture are misquoted! Instead
of turning to the Bible, to see how it is written, and saying,
"How readest thou?" we quote from one another; and thus a
passage of Scripture is handed down misquoted, by a king of
tradition, from father to son, and passes as current among a
great number of Christian persons. How very frequently at our
prayer meetings do we hear our brethren describing heaven as a
place of which we cannot conceive! They say, "Eye hath not
seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of
man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love
him;" and there they stop, not seeing that the very marrow of
the whole passage lies in this—"But God hath revealed them
unto us by his Spirit." So that the joys of heaven (if this
passage alludes to heaven, which, I take it, is not quite so
clear as some would suppose), are, after all, not things of
which we cannot conceive; for "God hath revealed them unto us
by his Spirit."
</p>
<p class="indent">
I have hinted that this passage is most commonly applied to
heaven, and I shall myself also so apply it in some measure,
this morning. But any one who reads the connexion will discover
that the apostle is not talking about heaven at all. He is only
speaking of this—that the wisdom of this world is not able
to discover the things of God—that the merely carnal mind
is not able to know the deep spiritual things of our most holy
religion. He says, "We speak the wisdom of God in a mystery,
even the hidden wisdom, which God ordained before the world
unto our glory: Which none of the princes of this world knew:
for had they known it, they would not have crucified the Lord
of glory. But as it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear
heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things
which God hath prepared for them that love him. But God hath
revealed them unto us by his Spirit; for the Spirit searcheth
all things, yea, the deep things of God." And then he goes on
lower down to say, "But the natural man receiveth not the
things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him:
neither can he know them, because they are spiritually
discerned." I take it, that this text is a great general fact,
capable of specific application to certain cases; and that the
great fact is this—that the things of God cannot be
perceived by eye, and ear, and heart, but must be revealed by
the Spirit of God; as they are unto all true believers. We
shall take that thought, and endeavour to expand it this
morning, explaining it concerning heaven, as well as regards
other heavenly matters.
</p>
<p class="indent">
Every prophet who has stood upon the borders of a new
dispensation might have uttered these words with peculiar
force. He might have said, as he looked forward to the future,
God having touched his eye with the anointing eye-salve of the
Holy Spirit, "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have
entered into the heart of man, the things that God hath
prepared for them that love him; but God hath revealed them
unto us by his Spirit." We will divide the economy of free
grace into different dispensations. We commence with the
<i>patriarchal</i>. A patriarch, who like Abraham was gifted
with foresight, might have looked forward to the Levitical
dispensation, glorious with its tabernacle, its Shekinah, its
gorgeous veil, its blazing altars; he might have caught a
glimpse of Solomon's magnificent temple, and even by
anticipation heard the sacred song ascending from the assembled
thousands of Jerusalem; he might have seen king Solomon upon
his throne, surrounded with all his riches, and the people
resting in peace and tranquillity in the promised land; and he
might have turned to his brethren who lived in the patriarchal
age, and said, "'Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have
entered the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared
for them that love him' in the next dispensation. Ye know not
how clearly God will reveal himself in the Paschal
Lamb—how sweetly the people will be led, and fed, and
guided, and directed all the way through the
wilderness—what a sweet and fair country it is that they
shall inhabit; Eye hath not seen the brooks that gush with
milk, nor the rivers that run with honey; ear hath not heard
the melodious voices of the daughters of Shiloh, nor have
entered into the heart of man the joys of the men of Zion, 'but
God hath revealed them unto us by his Spirit.'"
</p>
<p class="indent">
And so, moreover, at the close of the Levitical dispensation,
the <i>prophets</i> might have thus foretold the coming
glories. Old Isaiah, standing in the midst of the temple,
beholding its sacrifices, and the dim smoke that went up from
them, when his eyes were opened by the Spirit of God,
said—"Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have
entered the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared
for him that love him." He saw by faith Christ crucified upon
the cross; he beheld him weltering in his own blood in
Gethsemane's garden; he saw the disciples going out of
Jerusalem, to preach everywhere the Word of God; he marked the
progress of Messiah's kingdom, and he looked down to these
latter days, when every man under his own vine and fig tree
doth worship God, none daring to make him afraid; and he could
well have cheered the captives in Babylon in words like
these,—"Now ye sit down and weep, and ye will not sing in
a strange land the songs of Zion; but lift up your heads, for
your salvation draweth nigh. Your eye hath not seen, nor your
ear heard, the things which God hath prepared for them that
love him; but he hath revealed them unto me by his Spirit." And
now, beloved, we stand on the borders of a new era. The
mediatorial dispensation is almost finished. In a few more
years, if prophecy be not thoroughly misinterpreted, we shall
enter upon another condition. This poor earth of ours, which
has been swathed in darkness, shall put on her garments of
light. She hath toiled a long while in travail and sorrow. Soon
shall her groanings end. Her surface, which has been stained
with blood, is soon to be purified by love, and a religion of
peace is to be established. The hour is coming, when storms
shall be hushed, when tempests shall be unknown, when whirlwind
and hurricane shall stay their mighty force, and when "the
kingdoms of this world shall become the kingdoms of our Lord
and of his Christ." But you ask me what sort of kingdom that is
to be, and whether I can show you any likeness thereof. I
answer, no; "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have
entered the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared
for them that love him,' in the next, the millenial
dispensation; "But God hath revealed them unto us by his
Spirit." Sometimes, when we climb upwards, there are moments of
contemplation when we can understand that verse, "From whence
we look for the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, who shall be
revealed from heaven," and can anticipate that thrice blessed
hour, when the King of kings shall put on his head the crown of
the universe, when he shall gather up sheaves of sceptres, and
put them beneath his arm—when he shall take the crowns
from the heads of all monarchs, and welding them into one,
shall put them on his own head, admist the shouts of ten
thousand times ten thousand who shall chaunt his high praises.
But it is little enough that we can guess of its wonders.
</p>
<p class="indent">
But persons are curious to know what kind of dispensation the
Millennial one is to be. Will the temple, they ask, be erected
in Jerusalem? Will the Jews be positively restored to their own
land? Will the different nations all speak one language? Will
they all resort to one temple? and ten thousand other
questions. Beloved, we cannot answer you. "Eye hath not seen,
nor ear heard, neither have entered the heart of man, the
things which God hath prepared for them that love him." We do
not profess to understand the minutiae of these things. It is
enough for us to believe that a latter-day glory is
approaching. Our eyes glisten with joy, in the full belief that
it is coming; and our hearts swell big at the thought that our
Master is to reign over the wide, wide world, and to win it for
himself. But if you begin questioning us, we tell you that we
cannot explain it. Just as under the legal dispensation there
were types and shadows, but the mass of the people never saw
Christ in them, so there are a great many different things in
this dispensation which are types of the next, which will never
be explained till we have more wisdom, more light, and more
instruction. Just as the enlightened Jew partially foresaw what
the Gospel was to be by the law, so may we guess the Millennium
by the present, but we have not light enough: there are few who
are taught enough in the deep things of God to explain them
fully. Therefore we still say of the mass of mankind—"Eye
hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered the heart of
man, things which God hath prepared for them that love him. But
God hath revealed them <i>unto us</i> by his Spirit," in some
measure, and he will do so more and more, by-and-bye.
</p>
<p class="indent">
And this brings us to make the application of the subject to
<i>heaven itself</i>. You see, while it does not expressly mean
heaven here, you may very easily bring it to bear upon it; for
concerning heaven, unto which believers are all fast going, we
may say "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered
the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them
that love him. But God hath revealed them unto us by his
Spirit."
</p>
<p class="indent">
Now, beloved, I am about to talk of heaven for this reason: you
know, I never preach any funeral sermons for anybody, and never
intend. I have passed by many persons who have died in our
church, without having made any parade of funeral sermons; but,
nevertheless, three or four of our friends having departed
recently, I think I may speak a little to you about heaven, in
order to cheer you, and God may thus bless their departure. It
is to be no funeral sermon, however—no eulogium on the
dead, and no oration pronounced over the departed. Frequent
funeral sermons I utterly abhor, and I believe they are not
under God's sanction and approval. Of the dead we should say
nothing but that which is good: and in the pulpit we should say
very little of that, except, perhaps, in the case of some very
eminent saint; and then we should say very little of the man;
but let the "honour be unto him that sitteth upon the throne,
and unto the Lamb for ever."
</p>
<p class="indent">
Heaven—then, what is it? First, what is it not? <i>It is
not a heaven of the</i> SENSES—"Eye hath not seen it."
What glorious things the eye hath seen! Have we not seen the
gaudy pageantry of pomp crowding the gay streets. We have seen
the procession of kings and princes; our eyes have been feasted
with the display of glittering uniforms, of lavished gold and
jewels, of chariots and of horses; and we have perhaps thought
that the procession of the saints of God may be dimly shadowed
forth thereby. But, oh it was but the thought of our poor
infant mind, and far enough from the great reality. We may hear
of the magnificence of the old Persian princes, of palaces
covered with gold and silver, and floors inlaid with jewels;
but we cannot thence gather a thought of heaven, for "eye hath
not seen" it. We have thought, however, when we have come to
the works of God, and our eye hath rested on them: surely we
can get some glimpse of what heaven is here. By night we have
turned our eye up to the blue azure, and we have seen the
stars—those golden-fleeced sheep of God, feeding on the
blue meadow of the sky, and we have said, "See! those are the
nails in the floor of heaven up yonder;" and if this earth has
such a glorious covering, what must that of the kingdom of
heaven be? And when our eye has wandered from star to star, we
have thought, "Now I can tell what heaven is by the beauty of
its floor." But it is all a mistake. All that we can see can
never help us to understand heaven. At another time we have
seen some glorious landscape; we have seen the white river
winding among the verdant fields like a stream silver, covered
on either side with emerald; we have seen the mountain towering
to the sky, the mist rising on it, or the golden sunrise
covering all the east with glory; or we have seen the west,
again, reddened with the light of the sun as it departed; and
we have said, "Surely, these grandeurs must be something like
heaven; we have clapped our hands, and exclaimed—
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
"Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood,<br>
Stand dressed in living green."
</p>
<p>
We have imagined that there really were fields in heaven, and
that things of earth were patterns of things in heaven. It was
all a mistake:—"Eye hath not seen" it.
</p>
<p class="indent">
Equally does our text assert that "the ear hath not heard" it.
Oh! have we not on the Sabbath day sometimes heard the sweet
voice of the messenger of God, when he has by the Spirit spoken
to our souls! We knew something of heaven then, we thought. At
other times we have been entranced with the voice of the
preacher, and with the remarkable sayings which he has uttered;
we have been charmed by his eloquence; some of us have known
what it is to sit and weep and smile alternately, under the
power of some mighty man who played with us as skilfully as
David could have played on his harp; and we have said, "How
sweet to hear those sounds! how glorious his eloquence! how
wonderful his power of oratory! Now I think I know something of
what heaven is, for my mind is so carried away, my passions are
so excited, my imagination is so elevated, all the powers of my
mind are stirred upon so that I can think of nothing but of
what the preacher is speaking about!" But the ear is not the
medium by which you can guess anything of heaven. The "ear hath
not heard" it. At other times perhaps you have heard sweet
music; and hath not music poured from the lungs of
man—that noblest instrument in the world—or from some
manufacture of harmony, and we have thought, "Oh! how glorious
this is!" and fancied, "This is what John meant in the
Revelation—'I heard a voice like many waters, and like
exceeding great thunders, and I heard the voice of harpers
harping with their harps;' and this must be something like
heaven, something like the hallelujahs of the glorified." But
ah! beloved, we made a mistake. "Ear hath not heard" it.
</p>
<p class="indent">
Here has been the very ground of that error into which many
persons have fallen concerning heaven. They have said that they
would like to go to heaven. What for? For this reason: <i>they
looked upon it as a place where they should be free from bodily
pain</i>. They should not have the head-ache or the tooth-ache
there, nor any of those diseases which flesh is heir to, and
whenever God laid his hand upon them they began to wish
themselves in heaven, because they regarded it as a heaven of
the senses—a heaven which the eye hath seen or the ear
heard. A great mistake; for although we shall have a body free
from pain, yet it is not a heaven where our senses shall
indulge themselves. The labourer will have it, that heaven is a
place,
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
Where on a green and flowery mount<br>
His weary soul shall sit.
</p>
<p>
Another will have it that heaven is a place where he shall
<i>eat to the full, and his body shall be satisfied</i>. We may
use these as figures; but we are so degenerate that we are apt
to build a fine Mahometan heaven, and to think, there shall we
have all the delights of the flesh; there shall we drink from
bowls of nectared wine; there shall we lavishly indulge
ourselves, and our body shall enjoy every delight of which it
is capable. What a mistake for us to conceive such a thing!
Heaven is not a place for the delight of mere sense; we shall
be raised not a sensual body, but a spiritual body. We can get
no conceptions of heaven through the senses; they must always
come through the Spirit. That is our first thought. It is not a
heaven to be grasped by the senses.
</p>
<p class="indent">
But, secondly, <i>it is not a heaven of the</i> IMAGINATION.
Poets let their imaginations fly with loosened wings, when they
commence speaking of heaven. And how glorious are their
descriptions of it! When we have read them, we say, "And is
that heaven? I wish I was there." And we think we have some
idea of heaven by reading books of poetry. Perhaps the preacher
weaves the filigree work of fancy, and builds up in a moment by
his words charming palaces, the tops of which are covered with
gold, and the walls are ivory. He pictures to you lights
brighter than the sun; a place where spirits flap their bright
wings, where comets flash through the sky. He tells you of
fields where you may feed on ambrosia, where no henbane
groweth, but where sweet flowers cover the meads. And then you
think you have some idea of heaven: and you sit down and say,
"It is sweet to hear that man speak; he carried me so away; he
made me think I was there; he gave me such conceptions as I
never head before; he worked on my imagination." And do you
know, there is not a greater power than imagination. I would
not give a farthing for a man who has not imagination; he is of
no use, if he wishes to move the multitude. If you were to take
away my imagination I must die. It's a little heaven below, to
imagine sweet things. But never think that imagination can
picture heaven. When it is most sublime when it is freest from
the dust of earth, when it is carried up by he greatest
knowledge, and kept steady by the most extreme caution,
imagination cannot picture heaven. "It hath not entered the
heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that
love him." Imagination is good, but not to picture to us
heaven. Your imaginary heaven you will find by-and-by to be all
a mistake; though you may have piled up fine castles, you will
find them to be castles in the air, and they will vanish like
thin clouds before the gale. For imagination cannot make a
heaven. "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it
entered the heart of man to conceive" it.
</p>
<p class="indent">
Our next point is, that <i>it is not a heaven of the</i>
INTELLECT. Men who take to themselves the title of intelligent,
and who very humbly and modestly call themselves philosophers,
generally describe heaven as a place where we shall know all
things; and their grandest idea of heaven is, that they shall
discover all secrets there. There the rock which would not tell
its origin shall bubble forth its history; there the star which
would not tell its date, and could not be made to whisper of
its inhabitants, shall at once unravel all its secrets; there
the animal, the fashion of which could scarcely be guessed at,
so long had it been buried amongst other fossils in the earth,
shall start up again, and it shall be seen of what form and
shape it really was:—there the rocky secrets of this our
earth that they never could discover will be opened to them;
and they conceive that they shall travel from one star to
another star, from planet to planet, and fill their enobled
intellect, as they now delight to call it, with all kinds of
human knowledge. They reckon that heaven will be to understand
the works of the Creator: and concerning such men as Bacon and
other great philosophers, of whose piety we generally have very
little evidence, we read at the end of their
biographies—"He has now departed, that noble spirit which
taught us such glorious things here, to sip at the fountain of
knowledge, and have all his mistakes rectified, and his doubts
cleared up." But we do not believe anything of the kind.
Intellect! thou knowest it now! "It hath not entered into the
heart of man." It is high; what canst thou know? It is deep;
what canst thou understand? It is only the Spirit that can give
you a guess of heaven.
</p>
<p class="indent">
Now we come to the point—"He hath revealed it unto us by
his Spirit." I think this means, that it was revealed unto the
apostles by the Spirit, so that they wrote something of it in
the Holy Word; but as you all believe that, we will only hint
at it, and pass on. We think also that it refers to every
believer, and that every believer does have glimpses of heaven
below, and that God does reveal heaven to him, even whilst on
earth, so that he understands what heaven is, in some measure.
I love to talk of the Spirit's influence on man. I am a firm
believer in the doctrine of impulse, in the doctrine of
influence, in the doctrine of direction, in the doctrine of
instruction by the Holy Spirit; and I believe him to be an
interpreter, one of a thousand, who reveals unto man his own
sinfulness, and afterwards teaches him his righteousness in
Christ Jesus. I know there are some who abuse that doctrine,
and ascribe every text that comes into their heart as given by
the Spirit. We have heard of a man who, passing by his
neighbour's wood, and having none in his own house, fancied he
should like to take some. The text crossed his mind—"In
all these things Job sinned not." He said, "There is an
influence from the Spirit; I must take that man's wood."
Presently, however, conscience whispered, "Thou shalt not
steal;" and he remembered then that no text could have been put
into his heart by the Spirit, if it excused sin or led him into
it. However we do not discard the doctrine of impulse, because
some people make a mistake; and we shall have a little of it
this morning—a little of the teaching of God's gracious
Spirit, whereby he reveals unto us what heaven is.
</p>
<p class="indent">
First of all, we think a Christian gets a gaze of what heaven
is, <i>when in the midst of trials and troubles he is able to
cast all his care upon the Lord</i>, because he careth for him.
When waves of distress, and billows of affliction pass over the
Christian, there are times when his faith is so strong that he
lies down and sleeps, though the hurricane is thundering in his
ears, and though billows are rocking him like a child in its
cradle, though the earth is removed, and the mountains are
carried into the midst of the sea, he says, "God is our refuge
and strength, a very present help in trouble." Famine and
desolation come; but he says, "Though the fig tree shall not
blossom, neither shall there be fruit on the vine, though the
labour of the olive shall fail, and the field shall yield no
increase, yet will I trust in the Lord, and stay myself on the
God of Jacob." Affliction smites him to the ground; he looks
up, and says, "Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him." The
blows that are given to him are like the lashing of a whip upon
the water, covered up immediately, and he seems to feel
nothing. It is not stoicism; it is the peculiar sleep of the
beloved. "So he giveth his beloved sleep." Persecution
surrounds him; but he is unmoved. Heaven is something like
that—a place of holy calm and trust—
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
"That holy calm, that sweet repose,<br>
Which none but he who feels it knows.<br>
This heavenly calm within the breast<br>
Is the dear pledge of glorious rest,<br>
Which for the church of God remains,<br>
The end of cares, the end of pains."
</p>
<p class="indent">
But there is another season in which the Christian has heaven
revealed to him; and that is, <i>the season of quiet
contemplation</i>. There are precious hours, blessed be God,
when we forget the world—times and seasons when we get
quite away from it, when our weary spirit wings its way far,
far, from scenes of toil and strife. There are precious moments
when the angel of contemplation gives us a vision. He comes and
puts his finger on the lip of the noisy world; he bids the
wheels that are continually rattling in our ears be still; and
we sit down, and there is a solemn silence of the mind. We find
our heaven and our God; we engage ourselves in contemplating
the glories of Jesus, or mounting upwards towards the bliss of
heaven—in going backward to the great secrets of electing
love, in considering the immutability of the blessed covenant,
in thinking of what wind which "bloweth where it listeth," in
remembering our own participation of that life which cometh
from God, in thinking of our blood-bought union with the Lamb,
of the consummation of our marriage with him in realms of light
and bliss, or any such kindred topics. Then it is that we know
a little about heaven. Have ye never found, O ye sons and
daughters of gaiety, a holy calm come over you at times, in
reading the thoughts of your fellowmen? But oh! how blessed to
come and read the thoughts of God, and work, and weave them out
in contemplation. Then we have a web of contemplation that we
wrap around us like an enchanted garment, and we open our eyes
and see heaven. Christian! when you are enabled by the Spirit
to hold a season of sweet contemplation, then you can
say—"But he hath revealed them unto us by his Spirit;" for
the joys of heaven are akin to the joys of contemplation, and
the joys of a holy calm in God. But there are times with
me—I dare say there may be with some of you—when we
do something more than contemplate—when we arise by
meditation above thought itself, and when our soul, after
having touched the Pisgah of contemplation by the way, flies
positively into the heavenly places in Christ Jesus. There are
seasons when the Spirit not only stands and flaps his wings
o'er the gulf, but positively crosses the Jordan and dwells
with Christ, holds fellowship with angels, and talks with
spirits—gets up there with Jesus, clasps him in his arms,
and cries, "My beloved is mine, and I am his; I will hold him,
and will not let him go." I know what it is at times to lay my
beating head on the bosom of Christ with something more than
faith—actually and positively to get hold of him; not only
to take him by faith, but actually and positively to feed on
him; to feel a vital union with him, to grasp his arm, and feel
his very pulse beating. You say. "Tell it not to unbelievers;
they will laugh!" Laugh ye may; but when we are there we care
not for your laughter, if ye should laugh as loud as devils;
for one moment's fellowship with Jesus would recompense us for
it all. Picture not fairy lands; this is heaven, this is bliss.
"He hath revealed it unto us by his Spirit."
</p>
<p class="indent">
And let not the Christian, who says he has very little of this
enjoyment be discouraged. Do not think you cannot have heaven
revealed to you by the Spirit; I tell you, you can, if you are
one of the Lord's people. And let me tell some of you, that one
of the places where you may most of all expect to see heaven is
at the Lord's table. There are some of you, my dearly beloved,
who absent yourselves from the supper of the Lord on earth; let
me tell you in God's name, that you are not only sinning
against God, but robbing yourselves of a most inestimable
privilege. If there is one season in which the soul gets into
closer communion with Christ than another, it is at the Lord's
table. How often have we sang there,
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
"Can I Gethesemane forget?<br>
Or there thy conflicts see,<br>
Thine agony and bloody sweat,<br>
And not remember thee?
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">>
Remember thee and all thy pains,<br>
And all thy love to me,—<br>
Yes, while a pulse, or breath remains,<br>
I will remember thee."
</p>
<p>
And then you see what an easy transition it is to heaven:—
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
"And when these failing lips grow dumb,<br>
And thought and memory flee;<br>
When thou shalt in thy kingdom come,<br>
Jesus, remember me."
</p>
<p>
O my erring brethren, ye who live on, unbaptized, and who
receive not this sacred supper, I tell you not that they will
save you—most assuredly they will not, and if you are not
saved before you receive them they will be an injury to
you;—but if you are the Lord's people, why need you stay
away? I tell you, the Lord's table is so high a place that you
can see heaven from it very often. You get so near the cross
there, you breathe so near the cross, that your sight becomes
clearer, and the air brighter, and you see more of heaven there
than anywhere else. Christian, do not neglect the supper of thy
Lord; for it thou dost, he will hide heaven from thee, in a
measure.
</p>
<p class="indent">
Again, how sweetly do we realize heaven, <i>when we assemble in
our meetings for prayer</i>. I do not know how my brethren feel
at prayer meetings; but they are so much akin to what heaven
is, as a place of devotion, that I really think we get more
ideas of heaven by the Spirit there, than in hearing a sermon
preached, because the sermon necessarily appeals somewhat to
the intellect and the imagination. But if we enter into the
vitality of prayer at our prayer meetings, then it is the
Spirit that reveals heaven to us. I remember two texts that I
preached from lately at our Monday evening meeting, which were
very sweet to some of our souls. "Abide with us, for the day is
far spent," and another, "By night on my bed I sought him whom
my soul loveth: I sought him and found him." Then indeed we
held some foretaste of heaven. Master Thomas would not believe
that his Lord was risen. Why? Because he was not at the last
prayer-meeting; for we are told that Thomas was not there. And
those who are often away from devotional meetings are very apt
to have doubting frames; they do not get sights of heaven, for
they get their eye-sight spoiled by stopping away.
</p>
<p class="indent">
Another time when we get sights of heaven is in
<i>extraordinary closet seasons</i>. Ordinary closet prayer
will only make ordinary Christians of us. It is in
extraordinary seasons, when we are led by God to devote, say an
hour, to earnest prayer—when we feel an impulse, we scarce
know why, to cut off a portion of our time during the day to go
alone. Then, beloved, we kneel down, and begin to pray in
earnest. It may be that we are attacked by the devil; for when
the enemy knows we are going to have a great blessing, he
always makes a great noise to drive us away; but if we keep at
it, we shall soon get into a quiet frame of mind, and hear him
roaring at a distance. Presently you get hold of the angel, and
say, "Lord, I will not let thee go, except thou bless me." He
asks your name. You begin to tell him what you name was:
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
"Once a sinner, near despair,<br>
Sought thy mercy-seat by prayer;<br>
Mercy heard and set him free;<br>
Lord, that mercy came to me."
</p>
<p>
You say, "What is thy name, Lord?" He will not tell you. You
hold him fast still; at last he deigns to bless you. That is
certainly some foretaste of heaven, when you feel alone with
Jesus. Let no man know your prayers; they are between God and
yourselves; but if you want to know much of heaven, spend some
extra time in prayer; for God then reveals it to us by his
Spirit.
</p>
<p class="indent">
"Behold, ye despisers, and wonder, and perish." You have been
saying in your hearts, "The prophet is a fool, and this
spiritual man is mad." Go away and say these things; but be it
known unto you, that what ye style madness is to us wisdom and
what ye count folly "is the wisdom of God in a mystery, even
the hidden wisdom." And if there is a poor penitent here this
morning, saying, "Ah! sir, I get visions enough of hell, but I
do not get visions of heaven;" poor penitent sinner, thou canst
not have any visions of heaven, unless thou lookest through the
hands of Christ. The only glass through which a poor sinner can
see bliss is that formed by the holes in Jesus' hands. Dost
thou not know, that all grace and mercy was put into the hand
of Christ, and that it never could have run out to thee unless
his hand had been bored through in crucifixion. He cannot hold
it from thee, for it will run through; and he cannot hold it in
his heart, for he has got a rent in it made by the spear. Go
and confess your sin to him, and he will wash you, and make you
whiter than snow. If you feel you cannot repent, go to him and
tell him so, for he is exalted to give repentance, as well as
remission of sins. Oh! that the spirit of God might give you
true repentance and true faith; and then saint and sinner shall
meet together, and both shall not only know what "eye hath not
seen, nor ear heard;" but
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
"Then shall we see, and hear, and know<br>
All we desired or wished below,<br>
And every power find sweet employ<br>
In that eternal world of joy."
</p>
<p>
Till that time we can only have these things revealed to us by
the Spirit; and we will seek more of that, each day we live.
</p>
</div></div>
<div class="return"><a href="#top">Return to Top</a></div>
<script src="./js/MainFooter.js" type="text/javascript"></script>
Reference in New Issue View Git Blame Copy Permalink