essed
saints and angels of God. Oh, when I look in the faces of the precious
people of God, and believing, think of this day, what a refreshing
thought is it! Shall we not there remember, think you, the pikes which
we passed through here; our fellowship in duty and in sufferings; how
oft our groans made as it were one sound, our conjunct tears but one
stream, and our conjunct desires but one prayer. And now all our praises
shall make up one melody, and all our churches one church; and all
ourselves but one body; for we shall be one in Christ, even as He and
the Father are one.
It is a question with some whether we shall know each other in heaven or
no. Surely there shall no knowledge cease which we now have, but only
that which implieth imperfection! And what imperfection can this imply?
Nay, our present knowledge shall be increased beyond belief. It shall be
done away, but as the light of candles and stars is done away by the
rising of the sun, which is more properly a doing away of our ignorance
than of our knowledge. Indeed, we shall not know each other after the
flesh; nor by stature, voice, colour, complexion, visage, or outward
shape, but by the image of Christ and spiritual relation, and former
faithfulness in improving our talents we shall know and be known.
Again, a further excellence is this--it will be unto us a _seasonable_
rest. When we have passed a long and tedious journey, and that through
no small dangers, is not home then seasonable? When we have had a long
and perilous war, and have lived in the midst of furious enemies, and
have been forced to stand on a perpetual watch, and received from them
many a wound, would not a peace with victory be now seasonable? Some are
complaining under the pressure of the times--weary of their taxes, weary
of their quarterings, weary of plunderings, weary of their fears and
dangers, weary of their poverty and wants, and is not rest yet
seasonable? Some of us languish under continual weakness, and groan
under most grievous pains, weary of going, weary of sitting, weary of
standing, weary of lying, weary of eating, weary of speaking, weary of
waking, weary of our very friends, weary of ourselves. Oh, how oft hath
this been mine own case--and is not rest yet seasonable?
A further excellence is that this is a _suitable_ rest. Gold and earthly
glory, temporal crowns and kingdoms could not make rest for saints. Such
as their nature and desire such will be their rest.
|