Citizenship In Heaven

Citizenship In Heaven
A SERMON DELIVERED ON SUNDAY EVENING, OCTOBER 12, 1862, BY REV. C. H.
SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.
"For our conversation is in Heaven; from where also we look for the
Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ."
Philippians 3:20.
THERE can be no comparison between a soaring seraph and a crawling
worm. Christian men ought so to live that it were idle to speak of a
comparison between them and the men of the world. It should not be a
comparison but a contrast. No scale of degrees should be possible. The
Believer should be a direct and manifest contradiction to the
unregenerate. The life of a saint should be altogether above and out of
the same list as the life of a sinner.
We should compel our critics not to confess that moralists are good,
and Christians a little better. But while the world is darkness, we
should manifestly be light. And while the world lies in the Wicked One,
we should most evidently be of God, and overcome the temptations of
that Wicked One. Wide as the poles asunder are life and death, light
and darkness, health and disease, purity and sin, spiritual and carnal,
Divine and sensual. If we were what we profess to be, we should be as
distinct a people in the midst of this world, as a white race in a
community of Ethiopians. There should be no more difficulty in
detecting the Christian from the worldling than in discovering a sheep
from a goat, or a lamb from a wolf.
Alas, the Church is so much adulterated, that we have to abate our
glorying, and cannot exalt her character as we would. "The precious
sons of Zion, comparable to fine gold, how are they esteemed as earthen
pitchers, the work of the hands of the potter!" O for the time when
"our conversation shall be in Heaven," and the ignoble life of the man,
whose god is his belly, and whose end is destruction, shall be rebuked
by our unworldly, unselfish character. There should be as much
difference between the worldling and the Christian as between Hell and
Heaven, between destruction and eternal life.
As we hope at last that there shall be a great gulf separating us from
the doom of the impenitent, there should be here a deep and wide gulf
between us and the ungodly. The purity of our character should be such
that men must take knowledge of us that we are of another and superior
race. God grant us more and more to be most clearly a chosen
generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a peculiar people, that
we may show forth the praises of Him who has called us out of darkness
into His marvelous light.
Brethren, tonight I exhort you to holiness, not by the precepts of the
Law–not by the thunderings from Sinai–not by the perils or
punishments which might fall upon you if you are unholy. But by the
privileges to which you have been admitted. Gracious souls should only
be urged by arguments from Divine Grace. Whips are for the backs of
fools, and not for heirs of Heaven. By the honorable citizenship which
has been bestowed upon you, I shall beseech you to let your
conversation be in Heaven. And I shall urge that most prevailing
argument, that the Lord Jesus Christ is coming, and therefore we should
be as men that watch for our Lord, diligently doing service unto Him,
that when He comes He may say unto us, "Well done, good and faithful
servants." I know that the Grace which is in you will freely answer to
such a plea.
Our text, I think, might be best translated thus–"Our citizenship is
in Heaven." The French translation renders it, "As for us, our
burgessship is in the heavens." Doddridge paraphrases it, "But we
converse as citizens of Heaven, considering ourselves as denizens of
the New Jerusalem and only strangers and pilgrims upon earth."
I. The first idea which is suggested by the verse under consideration
is this–if our citizenship is in Heaven, then WE ARE ALIENS HERE. We
are strangers and foreigners, pilgrims and sojourners in the earth, as
all our fathers were. In the words of Sacred Writ, "Here we have no
continuing city," but, "we desire a better country, that is an
heavenly." Let us illustrate our position. A certain young man is sent
out by his father to trade on behalf of the family–he is sent to
America, and he is just now living in New York.
A very fortunate thing it is for him that his citizenship is in
England. Though he lives in America and trades there, yet he is an
alien and does not belong to that afflicted nation. For he retains his
citizenship with us on this side of the Atlantic. Yet there is a line
of conduct which is due from him to the country which affords him
shelter, and he must see to it that he does not fail to render it.
Since we are aliens, we must remember to behave ourselves as aliens
should, and by no means come short in our duty. We are affected by the
position of our temporary country.
A person trading in New York or Boston, though a freeman of the city of
London, will find himself very much affected by the trade of the United
States–when the merchants of his city suffer, he will find himself
suffering with them, the fluctuations of their money market will affect
his undertakings and the stagnation of commerce will slacken his
progress. But if prosperity should happily return, he will find that
when the coffers of their merchants are getting full, his will be the
better. And the happy development of trade will give buoyancy to his
own ventures.
He is not of the nation, and yet every trembling of the scale will
affect him. He will prosper as that nation prospers, and he will suffer
as that nation suffers. That is to say, not as a citizen, but as a
trader. And so we, in this country, find that though we are strangers
and foreigners on earth, yet we share all the inconveniences of the
flesh. No exemption is granted to us from the common lot of manhood. We
are born to trouble, even as others, and have tribulation like the
rest. When famine comes we hunger. And when war rages we are in danger.
We are exposed to the same climate, bearing the same burning heat, or
the same freezing cold. We know the whole train of ills, even as the
citizens of earth know them. When God in mercy scatters liberally with
both His hands the bounties of His Providence, we take our share.
Though we are aliens, yet we live upon the good of the land, and share
the tender mercies of the God of Providence. Therefore we have to take
some interest in it. And the good man, though he is a foreigner, will
not live even a week in this foreign land without seeking to do good
among the neighbors with whom he dwells.
The good Samaritan sought not only the good of the Samaritan nation but
of the Jews. Though there was no sort of kinship among them (for the
Samaritans were not, as we have often heard erroneously said, first
cousins or relations to the Jews. Not a drop of Jewish blood ever ran
in the Samaritans' veins. They were strangers brought from Assyria.
They had no relation to Abraham whatever), yet the good Samaritan,
finding himself traveling between Jericho and Jerusalem, did good to
the Jew, since he was in Judea. The Lord charged His people by His
servant Jeremiah, "Seek the peace of the city where I have caused you
to be carried away captives, and pray unto the Lord for it: for in the
peace thereof shall you have peace."
Since we are here, we must seek the good of this world. "To do good,
and to communicate, forget not." "Love you your enemies and do good and
lend, hoping for nothing again. And your reward shall be great, and you
shall be the children of the Highest: for He is kind unto the
unthankful and to the evil."
We must do our utmost while we are here to bring men to Christ, to win
them from their evil ways, to bring them to eternal life, and to make
them, with us, citizens of another, and a better land. For, to tell the
truth, we are here as recruiting sergeants for Heaven. Here to give men
the enlisting money, to bind upon them the blood red colors of the
Savior's service, to win them to King Jesus, that, by-and-by, they may
share His victories after having fought His battles.
Seeking the good of the country as aliens, we must also remember that
it behooves aliens to keep themselves very quiet. What business have
foreigners to plot against the government, or to intermeddle with the
politics of a country in which they have no citizenship? An Englishman
in New York had best be without a tongue just now. If he should
criticize the courage of the generals, the accuracy of their
dispatches, or the genius of the President, he might meet with rather
rough usage. He will be injudicious, indeed, if he cannot leave America
to the Americans.
So, in this land of ours, where you and I are strangers, we must be
orderly sojourners, submitting ourselves constantly to those that are
in authority, leading orderly and peaceable lives, and, according to
the command of the Holy Spirit through the Apostle, "honoring all men,
fearing God, honoring the King." "Submitting ourselves to every
ordinance of man for the Lord's sake." I cannot say that I delight in
political Christians. I fear that party strife is a serious trial to
Believers, and I cannot reconcile our heavenly citizenship with the
schemes of the hustling and the riot of the polling-booth.
You must follow your own judgment here, but for my part, I am a
foreigner even in England, and as such I mean to act. We are simply
passing through this earth and should bless it in our transit but never
yoke ourselves to its affairs. An
Englishman may happen to be in Spain–he wishes a thousand things were
different from what they are, but he does not trouble himself much
about them–says he," If I were a Spaniard I would see what I could do
to alter this government but, being an Englishman, let the Spaniards
see to their own matters. I shall be back in my own country by-and-by,
and the sooner the better."
So with Christians here. They are content very much to let the
potsherds strive with the potsherds of the earth. Their politics
concern their own country, they do not care much about any other. As
men they love liberty and are not willing to lose it even in the lower
sense. But, spiritually, their politics are spiritual, and as citizens
they look to the interest of that Divine republic to which they belong.
They wait for the time when, having patiently borne with the laws of
the land of their banishment, they shall come under the more beneficent
sway of Him who reigns in Glory, the King of kings and Lord of lords.
If it is possible, as much as lies in you, live peaceably with all men,
and serve your day and generation still, but build not your soul's
dwelling place here, for all this earth must be destroyed at the coming
of the fiery day.
Again, let us remember that as aliens we have privileges as well as
duties. The princes of evil cannot draft us into their regiments. We
cannot be compelled to do Satan's work. The king of this world may make
his vassals serve him, but he cannot raise a conscription upon aliens.
He may order out his troops to this villainy, or to that dastardly
service, but the child of God claims an immunity from all the commands
of Satan. Let evil maxims bind the men that own their sway– we are
free and own not the prince of the power of the air. I know that men of
this world say we must keep up appearances. We must be respectable. We
must do as others do. We must swim with the tide. We must move with the
crowd.
But not so the upright Believer–"No," says he, "Do not expect me to
fall in with your ways and customs. I am in Rome, but I shall not do as
Rome does. I will let you see that I am an alien, and that I have
rights as an alien, even here in this foreign land. I am not to be
bound to fight your battles, nor march at the sound of your drums."
Brethren, we are soldiers of Christ. We are enlisted in His army. And
as aliens here, we are not to be constrained into the army of evil. Let
lords and lands have what masters they will, let us be free, for Christ
is our Master still. The seventy thousand whom God has reserved, will
not bow the knee to Baal. Be it known unto you, O world, that we will
not serve your gods, nor worship the image which you have set up.
Servants of God we are, and we will not be in bondage unto men.
As we are free from the conscription of the State, we must remember,
also, that we are not eligible to its honors. I know you will say that
is not a privilege. But it is a great benefit if looked at aright. An
Englishman in New York is not eligible for the very prickly throne of
the President. I suppose he could not well be made a governor of
Massachusetts or any other State, and, indeed, he may be well content
to renounce the difficulties and the honor, too. So also, the Christian
man here is not eligible to this world's honors. It is a very ill omen
to hear the world clap its hands and say, "Well done," to the Christian
man. He may begin to look to his standing and wonder whether he has not
been doing wrong when the unrighteous give him their approbation.
"What, did I do wrong," said Socrates, "that yonder villain praised me
just now?" And so may the Christian say, "What, have I done wrong, that
So-and-So spoke well of me, for if I had done right, he would not? He
has not the sense to praise goodness–he could only have applauded that
which suited his own taste. Christian Brothers and Sisters, you must
never covet the world's esteem. The love of this world is not in
keeping with the love of God. "If any man love the world, the love of
the Father is not in him." Treat its smiles as you treat its threats,
with quiet contempt. Be willing rather to be sneered at than to be
approved, counting the Cross of Christ greater riches than all the
treasures of Egypt.
O harlot world, it were a sad dishonor to be your favorite! Tire your
head and paint your face, you Jezebel, but you are no friend of ours,
nor will we desire your hollow love. The men of this world were mad to
raise us to their seats of honor, for we are aliens and citizens of
another country. When the Pope sent a noted Protestant statesman a
present of some silver goblets, he returned them with this answer–"The
citizens of Zurich compel their judges to swear twice in the year that
they will receive no presents from foreign princes, therefore take them
back." More than twice in the year should the Christian resolve that he
will not accept the smiles of this world and will do no homage to its
glory.
"We fear the Greeks even when they bear gifts." Like the Trojans of
old, we may be beguiled with presents even if unconquered in arms.
Forswear then, the grandeur and honor of this fleeting age. Say in
life, what a proud cardinal said in death, "Vain pomp and glory of the
world, I hate you." Pass through Vanity Fair without trading in its
vanities, cry- ing, in answer to their "What will you buy?"–"We buy
the Truth of God." Take up the pilgrim's song and sing it always–
"The things eternal I pursue,
And happiness beyond the view
Of those who basely pant
For things by nature felt and seen.
Their honors, wealth and pleasures mean,
I neither have nor want.
Nothing on earth I call my own–
A stranger to the world unknown,
I all their goods despise.
I trample on their whole delight,
And seek a country out of sight–
A country in the skies."
Furthermore, as aliens, it is not for us to hoard up this world's
treasures. Gentlemen, you who know the exchange of New York, would you
hoard up any extensive amount of Mr. Chase's green-backed notes? I
think not. Those stamps which officiate in the States in lieu of copper
coinage I should hardly desire to accumulate. Perhaps the fire might
consume them, or if not, the gradual process of wear and tear which
they are sure to undergo might leave me penniless before long. "No,
Sir," says the British trader, "I am an alien. I cannot very well
accept payment in these bits of paper. They are very well for you,
perhaps.
"They will pass current in your state but my riches must be riches in
England, for I am going there to live directly. I must have solid gold,
old English sovereigns, nothing else but these can make me rich."
Brethren, so it is with us. If we are aliens, the treasures of this
world are like those bits of paper, of little value in our esteem. And
we should lay up our treasure in Heaven, "where neither moth nor rust
does corrupt and where thieves do not break through nor steal." The
money of this world is not current in Paradise. And when we reach its
blissful shore, if regret can be known, we shall wish that we had laid
up more treasure in the land of our fatherhood, in the dear fatherland
beyond the skies.
Transport your jewels to a safer country than this world. Be rich
toward God rather than before men. A certain minister collecting for a
Chapel, called upon a rich merchant, who generously gave him fifty
pounds. As the good man was going out with sparkling eye at the
liberality of the merchant, the tradesman opened a , and he said, "Stop
a minute, I find by this letter, I have lost this morning a ship worth
six thousand pounds." The poor minister trembled in his shoes, for he
thought the next word would be, "Let me have the fifty pound check
back."
Instead of it, it was "Let me have the check back a moment," and then
taking out his pen he wrote him a check for five hundred pounds. "As my
money is going so fast, it is well," said he, "to make sure of some of
it, so I will put some of it in God's bank." The man, you doubt not,
went his way astonished at such a way of dealing as this, but indeed
that is just what a man should do, who feels he is an alien here and
his treasure is beyond the sky–
"There is my house and portion fair;
My treasure and my heart are there,
And my abiding home–
For me my elder Brethren stay,
And angels beckon me away,
And Jesus bids me come."
II. It is our comfort now to remind you that although aliens on earth,
WE ARE CITIZENS IN HEAVEN.
What is meant by our being citizens in Heaven? Why, first that we are
under Heaven's government. Christ, the king of Heaven, reigns in our
hearts. The laws of Glory are the laws of our consciences. Our daily
prayer is, "Your will be done on earth as it is in Heaven." The
proclamations issued from the Throne of Glory are freely received by
us. The decrees of the Great King we cheerfully obey. We are not
without Law to Christ. The Spirit of God rules in our mortal bodies.
Divine Grace reigns through righteousness, and we wear the easy yoke of
Jesus. O that He would sit as king in our hearts, like Solomon upon his
throne of gold. Yours are we, Jesus, and all that we have, You rule
without a rival.
As citizens of the New Jerusalem, we share Heaven's honors. The glory
which belongs to beatified saints belongs to us, for we are already
sons of God, already princes of the blood imperial. Already we wear the
spotless robe of Jesus' righteousness. Already we have angels for our
servitors, saints for our companions, Christ for our Brother, God for
our Father, and a crown of immortality for our reward. We share the
honors of citizenship, for we have come to the general assembly and
Church of the First-Born, whose names are written in Heaven. "Beloved,
now are we the sons of God, and it does not yet appear what we shall
be: but we know that when He shall appear, we shall be like He is. For
we shall see Him as He is."
As citizens, we have common rights in all the property of Heaven. Those
wide extensive plains we sung ofjust now are ours. Ours the yonder
harps of gold and crowns of glory. Ours the gates of pearl and walls of
chrysolite. Ours the azure light of the city that needs no candle nor
light of the sun. Ours the river of the Water of Life, and the twelve
manner of fruits which grow on the trees planted at the side thereof.
There is nothing in Heaven that belongs not to us, for our citizenship
is there. "Things present, or things to come, all are ours. And we are
Christ's. And Christ is God's."
And as we are thus under Heaven's government, and share its honors and
partake of its possessions, so we today enjoy its delights. Do they
rejoice over sinners that are born to God–prodigals that have
returned? So do we. Do they chant the glories of triumphant Grace? We
do the same. Do they cast their crowns at Jesus' feet? Such honors as
we have, we cast there, too. Do they rejoice in Him? So, also, do we.
Do they triumph, waiting for His second advent? By faith we triumph in
the same. Are they tonight singing, "Worthy the Lamb"? We also have
sung the same tune, not to such glorious notes as theirs, but with as
sincere hearts. With minstrelsy not quite so splendid, but we hope as
sincere, for the Spirit gave us the music which we have, and the Spirit
gave them the thunders of their acclamations before the Throne. "Our
citizenship is in Heaven."
Brethren, we rejoice to know, also, that as the result of our being
citizens, or rather I ought to have said as the cause of it, our names
are written in the roll of Heaven's freemen. When, at last, the list
shall be read, our names, by His Grace, shall be read, too. For where
Paul and Peter, where David and Jonathan, where Abraham and Jacob shall
be found, we shall be found, too. Numbered with them we were in the
Divine purpose, reckoned with them we were in the purchase on the
Cross, and with them shall we sit down forever at the tables of the
blessed. The small and the great are fellow citizens and of the same
household.
The babes and the perfect men are recorded in the same great registry,
and neither death nor Hell can erase a single name. Our citizenship,
then, is in Heaven. We have not time to expand that thought. John
Calvin says of this text, "It is a most abundant source of many
exhortations, which it were easy for anyone to elicit from it." We are
not all Calvin. But even to our smaller capacities, the subject appears
to be one not readily exhausted, but rich with unfathomable joy.
III. We must now come to our third point, which is OUR CONVERSATION IS
IN HEAVEN. Our walk and acts are such as are consistent with our
dignity as citizens of Heaven. Among the old Romans, when a dastardly
action was proposed it was thought a sufficient refusal to answer,
"Romanus sum–I am a Roman."
Surely it should be a strong incentive to every good thing if we can
claim to be freemen of the Eternal City. Let our lives be conformed to
the glory of our citizenship. In Heaven they are holy, so must we
be–so are we if our citizenship is not a mere presence. They are
happy, so must we be rejoicing in the Lord always. In Heaven they are
obedient–so must we be, following the faintest monitions of the Divine
will. In Heaven they are active, so should we be, both day and night
praising and serving God. In Heaven they are peaceful, so should we
find a rest in Christ, and be at peace even now.
In Heaven they rejoice to behold the face of Christ, so should we be
always meditating upon Him, studying His beauties, and desiring to look
into the Truths of God which He has taught. In Heaven they are full of
love, so should we love one another as Brethren. In Heaven they have
sweet communion, one with another. So should we, who though many, are
one body, be every one members one of the other. Before the Throne they
are free from envy and strife, ill-will, jealousy, emulation,
falsehood, anger. So should we be–we should, in fact, seek while we
are here, to keep up the manners and customs of the good old
fatherland, so that, as in Paris, the Parisian soon says, "There goes
John Bull," so they should be able to say in this land, "there goes a
heavenly citizen, one who is with us and among us but is not of us."
Our very speech should be such that our citizenship should be detected.
We should not be able to live long in a house without men finding out
what we are. A friend of mine once went across to America, and landing,
I think, at Boston, he knew nobody. But hearing a man say, when
somebody had dropped a cask on the quay, "Look out there, or else you
will make a Coggeshall job of it," he said, "You are an Essex man I
know, for that is a proverb never used anywhere but in Essex–give me
your hand." And they were friends at once.
So there should be a ring of true metal about our speech and
conversation, so that when a Brother meets us, he can say, "You are a
Christian, I know, for none but Christians speak like that, or act like
that." "You also were with Jesus of Nazareth, for your speech betrays
you." Our holiness should act as a sort of beacon by which we know how
to give the grip to the stranger, who is not a real stranger, but a
fellow citizen with us, and of the household of faith.
Oh, dear Friends, wherever we wander, we should never forget our
beloved land. In Australia, on the other side the world, or in the Cape
of Good Hope, or wherever else we may be exiled, surely every
Englishman's eye must turn to this fair island–and with all her
faults, we must love her still. And surely let us be where we may, our
eyes must turn to Heaven, the happy land unstained by shadow of fault.
We love her still and love her more and more, praying for the time when
our banishment shall expire, and we shall enter into our Fatherland to
dwell there forever and ever.
Shenstone says, "The proper means of increasing the love we bear our
native country is to reside some time in a foreign land." Sure am I
that we who cry, "Woe is me, for I dwell in Mesech and sojourn in the
tents of Cedar!" are sure to add, "O that I had wings like a dove, for
then would I fly away and be at rest."
IV. The text says, "Our conversation is in Heaven," and I think we may
also read it, as though it said, "OUR COMMERCE IS IN HEAVEN." We are
trading on earth, but still the bulk of our trade is with Heaven. We
trade for trinkets in this land but our gold and silver are in Heaven.
We commune with Heaven and how? Our trade is with Heaven by meditation,
we often think of God, our Father, and Christ, our Brother. And, by the
Spirit, the Comforter, we are brought in contemplative delight to the
general assembly and Church of the First-Born, whose names are written
in Heaven. Brethren, do not our thoughts sometimes burn within us, when
we trade with that blessed land? When I have sent the ships of
understanding and consideration to that land of Ophir, which is full of
gold, and they have come back again laden with all manner of precious
things, my thoughts have been enriched–my soul has longed to journey
to that good land.
Black and stormy are you, O sea of death, but I would cross you to
reach that land of Havilah, which has dust of gold. I know that he who
is a Christian will never have his mind long off that better land. And
do you know we sometimes trade with Heaven in our hymns? They tell us
of the Swiss soldiery in foreign countries, that there is a song which
the band is forbidden to play, because it reminds them of the cowbells
of their native hills. If the men hear it, they are sure to desert, for
that dear old song revives before their eyes the wooden chalets and the
cows and the pastures of the glorious Alps and they long to be away.
There are some of our hymns that make us homesick, until we are hardly
content to stop, and therefore, well did our poet end his song–
"Filled with delight, my raptured soul, Can here no longer stay. Though
Jordan's waves around us roll, Fearless we launch away." I feel the
spirit of Wesley, when he said–
"O that we now might see our Guide! O that the word were given! Come,
Lord of Hosts, the waves divide, And land us all in Heaven.
In times of high, hallowed, heavenly harmony of praise, the songs of
angels seem to come astray and find their way down to us. And then our
songs return with them, hand in hand, and go back to God's Throne,
through Jesus Christ.
We trade with Heaven, I hope, too, not only thus by meditation and by
thought, and by song, but by hopes and by loves. Our love is toward
that land. How heartily the Germans sing of the dear old fatherland.
But they cannot, with all their Germanic patriotism, they cannot beat
the genial glow of the Briton's heart, when he thinks of his
fatherland, too. The Scotchman, too, wherever he may be, remembers the
land of "brown heath and shaggy wood." And the Irishman, too, let him
be where he will, still thinks the "Emerald Isle" the first gem of the
sea.
It is right that the patriot should love his country. Does not our love
fervently flame towards Heaven? We think we cannot speak well enough of
it, and, indeed, here we are correct, for no exaggeration is possible.
When we talk of that land of Eschol, our mouths are watering to taste
its clusters. Already, like David, we thirst to drink of the well that
is within the gate. And we hunger after the good corn of the land. Our
ears are wanting to have done with the discords of earth, that they may
open to the harmonies of Heaven. And our tongues are longing to sing
the melodious sonnets, sung by flaming ones above. Yes, we do love
Heaven, and thus it is that we prove that our commerce is with that
better land.
Brethren, just as people in a foreign land that love their country
always are glad to have plenty of letters from the country, I hope we
have much communication with the old fatherland. We send our prayers
there as letters to our Father, and we get His letters back in this
blessed volume of His Word. You go into an Australian settler's hut,
and you find a newspaper. Where from, Sir? A gazette from the south of
France, a journal from America? Oh no, it is a newspaper from England,
addressed to him in his old mother's handwriting, bearing the postage
stamp with the good Queen's face in the comer.
And he likes it, though it is only a newspaper from some little
pottering country town, with no news in it. Yet he likes it better,
perhaps, than the "Times" itself, because it talks to him about the
village where he lived, and consequently touches a special string in
the harp of his soul. So must it be with Heaven. This book, the Bible,
is the newspaper of Heaven, and therefore we must love it. The sermons
which are preached are good news from a far country. The hymns we sing
are notes by which we tell our Father of our welfare here, and by which
He whispers into our soul His continued love to us. All these are, and
must be pleasant to us, for our commerce is with Heaven.
I hope, too, we are sending a good deal home. I like to see our young
fellows, when they go out to live in the bush, remember their mother at
home. They say, "She had a hard struggle to bring us up when our father
died, and she scraped her little together to help us to emigrate." John
and Tom mutually agree, "the first gold we get at the diggings we will
send home to mother." And it goes home. Well, I hope you are sending a
great many things home.
Dear Friends, I hope as we are aliens here, we are not laying up our
treasure here, where we may lose it, but packing it off as quickly as
we can to our own country. There are many ways of doing it. God has
many banks. And they are all safe ones. We have but to serve His
Church, or serve the souls which Christ has bought with His blood, or
help His poor, clothe His naked, and feed His hungry–and we send our
treasures beyond sea in a safe ship. And so we keep up our commerce
with the skies.
V. Time has gone. Those clocks will strike when yours ought not. There
is a great reason why we should live like aliens and foreigners here,
and that is because CHRIST IS COMING SOON. The early Church never
forgot this. Did they not pant and thirst after the return of their
ascended Lord? Like the twelve tribes, day and night they instantly
watched for Messiah.
But the Church has grown weary of this hope. There have been so many
false prophets who tell us that Christ is coming, that the Church
thinks He never will come. And she begins to deny, or to keep in the
background the blessed doctrine of the second advent of her Lord from
Heaven. I do not think the fact that there have been many false
prophets should make us doubt our Lord's true word. Perhaps the very
frequency of these mistakes may show that there is truth at the bottom.
You have a friend who is ill, and the doctor says he cannot last long.
He must die. You have called a great many times expecting to hear of
his departure but he is still alive. Now the frequent errors of the
physicians do not prove that your friend will not die one of these
days, and that speedily, too. And so, though the false prophets have
said, "Lo, here," and "Lo, there," and yet Christ has not come–that
does not prove that His glorious appearing will never arrive.
You know I am no prophet. I do not know anything about 1866. I find
quite enough to do to attend to 1862. I do not understand the visions
of Daniel or Ezekiel. I find I have enough to do to teach the simple
word such as I find in Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, and the Epistles
of Paul. I do not find many souls have been converted to God by
exquisite dissertations about the battle of Armageddon, and all those
other fine things. I have no doubt prophesying is very profitable, but
I rather question whether they are so profitable to the hearers, as
they may be to the preachers and publishers.
I conceive that among religious people of a certain sort, the abortive
explanations of prophecy issued by certain doctors gratify a craving
which irreligious people find its food in novels and romances. People
have a panting to know the future. And certain divines pander to this
depraved taste, by prophesying for them and letting them know what is
coming by-and-by. I do not know the future and I shall not pretend to
know. But I do preach this, because I know it, that Christ will come,
for He says so in a hundred passages.
The Epistles of Paul are full of the advent, and Peter's, too, and
John's letters are crowded with it. The best of saints have always
lived on the hope of the advent. There was Enoch–he prophesied of the
coming of the Son of Man. So there was another Enoch who was always
talking of the coming, and saying, "Come quickly." I will not divide
the house tonight by discussing whether the advent will be
premillennial or postmillennial, or anything of that. It is enough for
me that He will come, and, "in such an hour as you think not, the Son
of Man will come."
Tonight He may appear, while here we stand. Just when we think that he
will not come, the thief shall break open the house. We ought,
therefore, to be always watching. Since the gold and silver that you
have will be worthless at His advent. Since your lands and estates will
melt to smoke when He appears. Since, then the righteous shall be rich
and the godly shall be great, lay not up your treasure here, for it may
at any time vanish, at any time disappear, for Christ at any moment may
come.
I think the Church would do well to be always living as if Christ might
come today. I feel persuaded she is doing ill if she works as if He
would not come till 1866, because He may come before, and He may come
this moment. Let her always be living as if He would come now, still
acting in her Master's sight, and watching unto prayer. Never mind
about the last vials–fill your own vial with sweet odors and offer it
before the Lord. Think what you like about Armageddon. But forgot not
to fight the good fight of faith. Guess not at the precise era for the
destruction of Antichrist, go and destroy it yourself, fighting against
it every day. But be looking forward and hastening unto the coming of
the Son of Man. And let this be at once your comfort and excitement to
diligence–that the Savior will soon come from Heaven.
Now, I think you foreigners here present–and I hope there are a great
many true aliens here–ought to feel like a poor stranded mariner on a
desolate island. You have saved a few things from the wreck and built
yourself an old log hut. You have a few comforts round about you, but
for all that you long for home. Every morning you look out to sea and
wonder when you shall see a sail. Many times while examining the wide
ocean to look for a ship, you have clapped your hands, and then wept to
find you were mistaken. Every night you light a fire that there may be
a blaze, so that if a ship should go by, they may send relief to you.
Ah, that is just the way we ought to live. We have heard of one saint
who used to open his window every morning when he woke, to see if
Christ had come. It might be fanaticism, but better to be enthusiastic
than to mind earthly things. I would have us look out each night, and
light the fire of prayer, that it may be burning in case the ships of
Heaven should go by–that blessings may come to us poor aliens and
foreigners who need them so much. Let us wait patiently till the Lord's
convoy shall take us on board, that we may be carried into the glories
and splendor of the reign of Christ.
Let us always hold the log hut with a loose hand and long for the time
when we shall get to that better land where our possessions are, where
our Father lives, where our treasures lie, where all our Brethren
dwell. Well said our poet —
"Blest scenes,
Through rude and stormy seas I onward press to You."
My Beloved Friends, I can assure you it is always one of the sweetest
thoughts I ever know, that I shall meet with you in Heaven. There are
so many of you members of this Church, that I can hardly get to shake
hands with you once in a year. But I shall have plenty of time, then,
in Heaven. You will know your pastor in Heaven better than you do now.
He loves you now, and you love him. We shall then have more time to
recount our experience of Divine Grace, and praise God together, and
sing together, and rejoice together concerning Him by whom we were
helped to plant and sow, and through whom all the increase came–
"I hope when days and years are past, We all shall meet in Heaven, We
all shall meet in Heaven at last, We all shall meet in Heaven."
But we shall not all meet in glory. Not all, unless you repent. Some of
you will certainly perish, unless you believe in Christ. But why must
we be divided? Oh, why not all in Heaven? "Believe in the Lord Jesus
Christ and you shall be saved." "He that believes and is baptized shall
be saved but he that believes not shall be damned." Trust Christ,
Sinner, and Heaven is yours and mine, and we are safe, by His Grace,
forever. Amen.