It will occur to every reflecting mind that we have in Scripture a few interesting examples of that change, without dying, from the present to a higher state of being, which the theory of Dr. Smith supposes would have been the happy lot of all mankind had they not sinned. By faith Enoch was translated, that he should not see death. He walked with God, and he was not; for God took him. Gladly would philosophys here interpose a thousand questions as to the manner in which this wonderful change took place; but the Scriptures are silent. It was enough for the heart of piety that God was the author of the change. And so, in the case of Elijah, we have the sublimely simple description only—And it came to pass, as they still went on and talked, that, behold, there appeared a chariot of fire, and horses of fire, and parted them both asunder; and Elijah went up by a whirlwind into heaven. Except the transfiguration of Christ, which appears to have been of an analogous character, these are all the actual examples of translation on record. But the apostle declares that, in the closing scene of this world’s history, this same change shall pass upon multitudes. Behold, I show you a mystery. We shall not all sleep; but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump; for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. Abundant evidence is, therefore, before us, that the great change which death now causes us to pass through with fear and dread, might as easily have been, for the whole human family, a transition delightful in anticipation and joyful in experience.
The second theory which will reconcile science and revelation on the subject of death, is one long since illustrated by Jeremy Taylor. And since he could have had no reference to geology in proposing it, because geology did not exist in his day, we may be sure, either that he learnt it from the Bible, or that other branches of knowledge teach the existence of death as a general law of nature, as well as geology.
“That death, therefore,” says Taylor, “which God threatened to Adam, and which passed upon his posterity, is not the going out of this world, but the manner of going. If he had staid in innocence, he should have gone placidly and fairly, without vexatious and afflictive circumstances; he should not have died by sickness, defect, misfortune, or unwillingness. But when he fell, then he began to die; the same day, (God said,) and that must needs be true; and, therefore, it must mean upon that very day he fell into an evil and dangerous condition, a state of change and affliction; then death began; that is, man began to die by a natural diminution, and aptness to disease and misery. Change or separation of soul and body is but accidental to death; death may be with or without either; but the formality, the curse, and the sting,—that is, misery, sorrow, fear, diminution, defect, anguish, dishonor, and whatsoever is miserable and afflictive in nature,—that is death. Death is not an action, but a whole state and condition; and this was first brought in upon us by the offence of one man.”
In more recent times, the essential features of these views of Taylor have been adopted by the ablest commentators and theologians, and sustained by an appeal to Scripture.[9] The position which they take is, that the death threatened as the penalty of disobedience has a more extended meaning than physical death. It is a generic term, including all penal evils; so that when death is spoken of as the penalty of sin, we may substitute the word curse, wrath, destruction, and the like. Thus, in Gen. ii. 17, we might read, In the day thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely be cursed: and in Rom. v. 12, By one man sin entered into the world, and the curse by sin, &c. In his commentary on this passage, Professor Stuart says, “I see no philological escape from the conclusion that death, in the sense of penalty for sin in its full measure, must be regarded as the meaning of the writer here.” The same may be said of many other passages of Scripture, where the term death is used.
According to this exposition, the death threatened as the penalty of transgression embraces all the evils we suffer in this life and in eternity; among which the dissolution of the body is not one of the worst. Indeed, some writers will not admit that this was included at all in the penalty. Such, of course, find no difficulty in the geological statement that literal death preceded man’s existence. But from the declaration in 1 Cor. xv. 22, As in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive, it seems difficult to avoid the conclusion, that the death of the body was brought in upon the race by Adam’s transgression. According to Taylor’s view, however, we might reasonably suppose that what constituted the death threatened to Adam was not the going out of the world, but the manner of going, and that, had he continued holy, a change of worlds might have taken place, but it would not have been death.
Now, there are some facts, both in experience and revelation, that give to these views an air of probability. One is, the mild character of death in many cases, when attended by only a few of the circumstances above enumerated, as constituting its essence. I believe that experience sustains the conclusion already drawn as to the inferior animals, when not aggravated by human cruelty. Pain is about the only circumstance that gives it the character of severity; and this is usually short, and not anticipated. Nor can it be doubted, as a general fact, that, as we descend along the scale of animals, we find the sensibility to suffering diminish. But in the human family we find examples still more to the point. In all those cases in which there is little or no disease, and a man in venerable old age feels the powers of life gradually give way, and the functions are feebly performed, until the heart at length ceases to beat, and the lungs to heave, death is merely the quiet and unconscious termination of the scene, so far as the physical nature is concerned. The brain partakes of the gradual decay, and thus the man is scarcely conscious of the failure of his powers, because his sensibilities are so blunted; and therefore, apart from sin, his mind feels little of the anguish of dissolution, and he quietly resigns himself into the arms of death,—
“As sweetly as a child,
Whom neither thought disturbs, nor care encumbers,
Tired with long play, at close of summer’s day,
Lies down and slumbers.”
If now, in addition to this physical preparation for his departure, the man possesses a deep consciousness of forgiven sin, and a firm hope of future and eternal joy, this change, which we call death, becomes only a joyful translation from earth to heaven; and though the man passes from our view,—
“He sets,
As sets the morning star, which goes not down
Behind the darkened west, nor hides obscured
Among the tempests of the sky, but melts away
Into the light of heaven.”
Nay, when such faith and hope form an anchor to the soul, it is not necessary that the physical preparation, which I have described, should exist. The poor body may be torn by fierce disease, nay, by the infernal cruelties of martyrdom, and yet faith can rise—often has risen—over the pains of nature, in joyful triumph; and in the midst of the tempest, with her anchor fastened to the eternal Rock, she can exclaim, O death, where is thy sting! O grave, where is thy victory! Thanks be to God, which giveth me the victory through my Lord Jesus Christ. Surely such a dissolution as this cannot mean the death mentioned in the primeval curse.