Sidebilder
PDF
ePub

SERMON DCXXIII.

BY REV. WILLIAM WHITTAKER,

PLAINFIELD, N. J.

IMMORTALITY.

"If a man die, shall he live again ?"—JOB xiv. 14.

THE belief of a future state of happiness or misery seems to have been coeval with the existence of man. The Almighty revealed the doctrine of the soul's immortality to the original progenitors of the human race, and by them it has been transmitted to their posterity. It is beyond all controversy that the whole nation of the Jews, with the exception of the Sadducees, did believe in a state of rewards and punishments after death, even before "life and immortality were brought to light by the gospel." The truth of this remark will appear perfectly obvious to the unprejudiced mind, by a reference to the answer which Abraham returned to the question of Dives, when he requested him to send Lazarus to warn his five brethren, lest they also should come into the same place of torment. Abraham said unto him, "they have Moses and the prophets, let them hear them. If they hear not Moses and the prophets; neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead." Now this passage proves conclusively that the Old Testament scriptures do contain evidence sufficient to convince the most skeptical, that there is beyond the grave, a heaven for the righteous, and a hell for the wicked.

This doctrine will receive further confirmation from the Mosaic account of the creation, recorded in the second chapter of the Book of Genesis: "And the Lord God formed man out of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul." In this declaration, there is an evident distinction between the material and the immaterial part of man the body and the soul; in accordance with the language of Solomon, recorded in the twelfth chapter of Ecclesiastes, and the seventh verse: "Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was, and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it."

Another argument in favor of the immortality of the soul, and a future state, is derived from the language of David when speaking of the death of his child. "I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me." Now the consciousness that David should follow his child to the dark and silent tomb, and that the stern tyrant would hold them both in his iron grasp forever, could not infuse one drop of consolation into his bruised and

135

broken spirit. It was the firm conviction that he should meet it again, in a brighter and a better world, beyond the ravages of death, that enabled him to submit with becoming fortitude and resignation to the mysterious and painful dispensation of divine Providence.

Job, under all the afflictions and persecutions which he was called to endure in this present life, was supported by the assurance that his "Redeemer liveth,-that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth-whom he shall see for himself, and his eyes should behold and not another."

From the several instances which we have thus noticed, it must be obvious to the reflecting mind, that the doctrine of a future state was believed by the great body of the Jewish nation before the introduction of the Gospel dispensation.

If we pass from the Scriptures of the Old Testament to the philosophical writings of ancient Greece and Rome, we shall find many beautiful and sublime passages relating to a life beyond the grave. Their sages and philosophers felt the seeds of mortality within them; they saw daily instances of it round about them, but how far the power of death reached, they knew not. They beheld the body deposited in the grave; but whether man had an immortal part which would survive the ravages of death and live forever, was a problem which they could not solve. Such thoughts as these, we may suppose, would naturally arise in the mind of a reflecting heathen, and we therefore conclude that they must have had some indistinct conceptions of a future state of existence. They talked much of their Elysian fields, where the souls of the good would enjoy pleasure and delight, and of Tartarus, where the wicked would be punished forever.

Socrates, in the full prospect of his own dissolution, makes use of the following language: "Death would be very hard to me, if I were not persuaded that when I depart hence, I shall go to the wise God, and to those who are already departed this life, without doubt, abundantly better, and much happier than those who are left behind." After his condemnation, he is represented as saying to his judges: "I have a good hope that it will happen well to me, that I am thus sent to death. What delight to live and converse with the immortal heroes and poets of antiquity. It becomes you also, my friends, to be of good comfort with regard to death, since no evil, in life or death, can befall virtuous men, whose true interest is ever the concern of Heaven." Likewise, the great Cyrus, in a similar manner, is said to have thus expressed his hopes on his death bed to his own children: "Think not that when I shall leave you, I shall be nowhere or nothing, for even whilst I continued with you, ye could not see my soul, but ye only knew it to be in this body by my actions. And so, in like manner after death, ye may believe that my soul lives, though ye see it not, for never could I be persuaded to

think that a soul which lives in a mortal body should die when it leaves it, or that the soul should be without sense when it escapes from its senseless companion, the body; but quite the contrary, that then it begins properly to live, and to be most wise and happy when it is broken loose from the chains of an encumbering flesh."

Such was the language of the most enlightened heathen, in relation to that most important inquiry: "If a man die, shall he live again?" before the clearer light of the gospel shed its illuminating beams upon the world. But as mankind approached nearer to the Christian dispensation, their views assumed a more definite and tangible form, just as the "rising sun shineth brighter and brighter unto the perfect day." Some founded their notions of a future state, on the immortal and spiritual nature of the soul-some from the strong desire of immortality implanted in the human breast, and others from the unequal distribution of good and evil in the present life, or the seeming inequalities in the dispensations of divine Providence. It is true, that after all, they were involved in great darkness on the subject; all their investigations ended only in doubt and uncertainty, yet the bare possibility of living again after death, afforded them a degree of consolation, and they were willing to hope that it might prove true.

Suffice it to say, that the belief of a future state is common to all ages and nations of the world, where all mankind will be happy or miserable, according to their conduct in the present life. It is a fact standing prominently forth on the broad basis of man's history, from the beginning of the world up to the present hour. Proof of this fact is to be found in the most refined American, who basks in the full splendor of gospel light and liberty, and in the wildest savage who roams the desert, and scours the forest for his prey-in the most enlightened Christian, who "looks through nature, up to Nature's God," and the dark idolator who deifies a river-falls prostrate before the noon-day sun, or calls upon the stars to behold him, while he worships the silent moon in the still hour of night.

Such is the nature of man, that he cannot live contentedly upon the things of time and sense; it is not in the power of any finite object to satisfy the cravings of his rational and immortal mind. Though the world of nature is redolent of life and beauty, and teeming with wonders to call forth our gratitude and praise, yet in vain do we look for an object commensurate with our wishes, or on which the restless spirit may expend its deathless energies. Amidst all the vexations and disappointments of this life, man looks for consolation to the unseen and eternal; he penetrates the veil which hides futurity from mortal sight, and finds rest only in the paradise of God. "That is the mark we tend to, for the soul can take no lower flight, and seek no meaner goal."

How deplorable-how hopelessly wretched would the condition of man be in this vale of tears, if bereft of the cheering anticipations which the gospel of Jesus can inspire. He feels that, day by day, he is verging to the grave-that soon the frail tenement of humanity will crumble into its original elementsthat the glorious sun will shine on him no more, and that he must lie down in the place of darkness and silence. All the delights that charm and gladden him here, will soon fade and pass away before his darkened vision, and he must bid a final farewell to the dear companions of his earthly pilgrimage. While indulging in this train of melancholy reflections, he may be disposed to adopt the language of Henry Kirk White, so accordant with his own feelings. "Fifty years, and who will think of Henry? I shall sink as sinks the traveller in the crowded streets of busy London. Some short bustles caused, a few inquiries, and the crowd close in, and all's forgotten."

Now, under such a terrible revolution of nature-such a sundering of near and dear connections-such an oblivion of all that is bright and beautiful in the world within and the world. without, what but the sure and certain hope of surviving the wreck and ruin of all terrestrial things, and entering upon a state of perfect and uninterrupted beatitude, where death and the curse are known no more, can calm the troubled spirit, and give the weary rest.

The gospel not only teaches us that we shall live again after death, but permits us to indulge the pleasing hope of reunion with the loved and lost of earth. Who can go down to the silent chambers of the grave, without distraction at the thought of being separated forever from the companions of our earthly pilgrimage?

"They have not perished-no,

Kind words, remembered voices, once so sweet,

Smiles radiant long ago,

And features, the great soul's apparent seat,

All shall come back-each tie

Of pure affection shall be knit again."

SERMON DCXXIV.

BY REV. WILLIAM WHITTAKER,

PLAINFIELD, N. J.

RECOGNITION.

"For what is our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing? Are not even ye in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his coming?"-1 THESS. ii. 19.

"I must confess," says the sainted Baxter, " as the experience of my own soul, that the expectation of loving my friends in heaven, principally kindles my love to them while on earth. If I thought I should never know them, and consequently never love them after this life is ended, I should number them with temporal things, and love them as such; but I now delightfully converse with my pious friends in a firm persuasion that I shall converse with them forever, and I take comfort in those that are dead, or absent, believing that I shall shortly meet them in heaven, and love them with a heavenly love." Such have been the sentiments and feelings of the vast majority of Christians in every portion and period of the world, and they are in perfect harmony with the teachings of revelation, and the deductions of sound philosophy.

And why should we not indulge "the pleasing hope, the fond desire" of renewing in another and a better world, the fellowship of kindred hearts which has been so suddenly interrupted by the stern mandate of death. Why should we not meet and commune with those pure and holy beings, with whom we have taken sweet counsel, as we have walked together through the checkered lanes of life's weary pilgrimage to the city of habitation? Friendship, pure, warm, disinterested, and founded on religious principles, is not a flower of earth, frail as it is beautiful, which rises up before us like an oasis in the desert, to refresh and gladden our fainting spirits, and then leaves us to mourn over its faded loveliness in all the bitterness of disappointed hope. No, it is a plant of heavenly origin, and, though frequently made to bend before the blasts and storms of this uncongenial clime, yet when transplanted into the paradise above, where there" is purer air, a softer sky, and a never-setting sun,' it will put forth more vigorous and healthy shoots, and flourish in immortal youth and beauty. Shall this reasonable expectation, then, of meeting once more with the loved and lost of earth, prove a delusion-the creature of an unbridled fancy, and an over heated imagination? Shall the longing desire of the disconsolate widow, and the helpless orphan, to look once more upon

« ForrigeFortsett »