ion of
grandeur. No wrapping out of sight of the Godhead. Any fifty of the
most brilliant sunsets that you ever saw on land or sea would be dim
as compared with the cerulean appearance on that day when Christ
rolls through, and rolls on, and rolls down in His glory. The air will
be all abloom with His presence, and everything from horizon to
horizon aflame with His splendor.

Elijah rode up the sky-steep in a chariot, the wheels of whirling fire
and the horses of galloping fire, and the charioteer drawing reins of
fire on bits of fire; but Christ will need no such equipage, for the
law of gravitation will be laid aside, and the natural elements will
be laid aside, and Christ will descend swiftly enough to make speedy
arrival, but slowly enough to allow the gaze of millions of
spectators. In his glory! Glory of form, glory of omnipotence, glory
of holiness, glory of justice, glory of love. In His glory! An
unveiled, an uncovered God descending to meet the human race in an
interview which will be prolonged only for a few hours, and yet which
shall settle all the past and all the present and all the future, and
be closed before the end of that day, which will close, not with
setting sun, but with the destruction of the planet as a snuffers
takes off the top of a burned wick.

It is a solemn time in a court-room when there is an important case on
hand, and the judge of the Supreme Court enters, and he sits down, and
with gavel strikes on the desk commanding bar and jury and witnesses
and audience into silence. All voices are hushed, all heads are
uncovered. But how much more impressive when Christ shall take the
judgment seat on the last day of the last week of the last month of
the last year of the world's existence, and with gavel of thunder-bolt
shall smite the mountains, commanding all the land and all the sea
into silence.

Can you have any doubt about who it is on the seat on the judgment
day? Better make investigation, to see whether there are any scars
about Him that reveal His person. Apparel may change. You can not
always tell by apparel. But scars will tell the story after all else
fails. I find under His left arm a scar, and on His right hand a scar,
and on His left hand a scar, and on His right foot a scar, and on His
left foot a scar. Oh, yes, He is the Son of Man in His glory. Every
mark of wound now a badge of victory, every ridge showing the fearful
gash now telling the story of pain and sacrifice which