the wise little mother who made the ark of bulrushes long ago had found
a grave, I suppose, in the brick-fields of Egypt. Did it mean that he
came back to them all in the life unseen when he was "gathered to his
people"?
David seemed to think that he would know his dead child. "I shall go
to him but he shall not return to me."
Our Lord assumes that Dives and Lazarus knew each other. And in
another passage He uses a very homely illustration of a friendly
gathering when He speaks of those who shall "sit down with Abraham and
Isaac and Jacob in the Kingdom." And again in His advice about the
right use of riches. "Make to yourselves friends by the means of the
mammon of unrighteousness that when ye die they may receive you into
the everlasting habitations" (Luke xvi. 9). Surely, that at least
suggests recognition and a pleasant welcoming on the other side.
I remember well, how in the pain of a great bereavement, His words to
the penitent thief came into my life like a message from the Beyond.
"To-day thou shalt be with Me in Paradise." I put myself in the place
of that poor friendless man taking his lonely leap off into the dark
and felt what a joy and comfort it must have been. "To-day we shall be
together again at the other side." Not, "I will remember thee," but,
"Thou shalt be with Me." Not, by and by when I come in My Kingdom, but
"To-day." If anybody knew, surely Jesus knew. If His words meant
anything surely they meant we shall be conscious of each other, we
shall know each other as the two friendless ones who hung on the cross
together.
Then I see St. Paul (though he is referring to the later stage of
existence) comforting bereaved mourners with the thought of meeting
those whom Christ shall bring with Him. Where would be the comfort of
it if they should not know them? He expects to meet his converts and
present them to Christ. How could he say this if he thought He would
not know them?
I wonder if anybody really doubts it after all. Just think of it!
With Christ in Paradise and not knowing or loving any comrade soul! Is
that possible in the land of love? With our dear ones in Paradise and
never a thrill of recognition as we touch in spiritual intercourse the
mother, or wife, or husband, or child for whose presence we are
longing! Cannot you imagine our wondering joy when our questionings
are set at rest? Cannot you imagine the Lord in His tender reproach,
"Oh, thou of little faith, wh
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