In the first place, death is the separation of the immortal spirit from the mortal body, and the body alone now lies sleeping in the grave. When we assembled around that opened grave on Friday, it was to leave there the body. We committed her body to the grave, “earth to earth, dust to dust, ashes to ashes.”
And this body may be justly said to sleep. It sleeps, for it is without feeling. There is no pain or languor now, no advancing illness, or exhaustion from decaying strength. This is all over now, and the poor body sleeps in Jesus.
Then again it is a sleep, for the time of labour has now passed. That beautiful and cheerful activity which for twenty-five years has been such a blessing and example to this place, is now over. The night is come when she cannot work, and let us who remain learn the lesson that while the day lasts, we must be, like her, most vigorously employed for God.
And lastly it is a sleep, for it is not permanent, but only for a time. The night is quickly passing; already we see the streaks of morning; and when the Son of Righteousness appears, the sleeping body shall spring from the couch of its slumber, and take its place in the great company before the throne of a risen Lord.
Thus the body may be well said to sleep in the tomb. But the immortal spirit who shall fetter, who shall entomb it? The immortal spirit never sleeps, it needs no sleep, for it knows no fatigue, and the language of the Scripture is, “They rest not day and night, saying Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come.” Rev. iv, 8.
But again, with reference to the soul itself, the present state is well represented by the figure of sleep, and for this reason: that sleep is the season of repose, and the repose of those we love above is perfect. You remember the voice heard from heaven, the voice of the Holy Ghost bearing testimony on this peaceful subject, “I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, ‘Write, blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: Yea saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours.” They rest, therefore, in sweet repose, but repose is not insensibility. It involves no want of consciousness, and accordingly you have two passages apparently conflicting, but really in perfect harmony, the one saying that they rest, the other that they rest not, for the one refers to labours, the other to thanksgiving; the one describes the perfection of repose, the other the equal perfection of joyous, unceasing, and unfatigued activity.
Thus as to all that shall harass, distress, and grieve, there is repose or sleep. The world may be distracted by war and all its horrors, but the soul above is undisturbed by the tumult, for no storm can ruffle the calm surface of the sea of glass. There may be bitter sorrow filling many a broken heart, but it is unknown there, for as God himself has undertaken to wipe away all tears from their eyes. No fears or doubts are known there, for they are all allayed and scattered by the actual presence and perceptible love of their Saviour himself in the very midst of them. Above all there is no sin there. While sin lasts there can be no repose; but there, sin never enters; it may be sought for, but cannot be found, for it is all blotted out by the blood of the Lamb, and is remembered no more before the throne of God. And so it is with the beloved spirit now departed. She has wept, and those who knew her best remember well what a true mourner she was, and how deep was her feeling of heartfelt grief when it pleased God to remove from her the dear relatives whom she tenderly loved. But she weeps no more; every tear is dry, and every sorrow passed for eternity. She has had her fears, her doubts, her conflicts of soul, but there are none now; her race is run, she rests in her Lord, she sleeps in Jesus. She has struggled against sin, she has wrestled with God for holiness, as many of you know well, who have had the privilege of uniting with her in the outpourings of her soul before the throne. But it is all past now. There is not a spot in the white robe: she reposes a spotless conqueror before God.
As to all that may distress, therefore, there is repose. But as to the sinless emotions of a living soul, we have the clearest evidence of Scripture that there is all the joy of activity without fatigue. No! there is no stupor, nor any want of consciousness to that light and lovely spirit. It is all life now, and life unfettered by the clogs and hindrances of decaying flesh. Memory is not dormant, for remember the vivid glow of gratitude with which the living ones before the throne adore the Lamb for having redeemed them by his blood from the various nations of mankind. Nor hope, for in that same song we find the joyful anticipation of their future reign. Nor praise, for the language of heaven is full of praise; and wherever the ransomed spirits speak it is in praise. Think not that the love is lost or deadened, for these sweet hymns in which so many amongst you have so often rejoiced to join with the departed. It is dangerous in such a matter to attempt to draw aside the veil, and we must not venture to let go imagination; but yet it seems as though we could almost perceive the new joy at the new song; the deep emotion, the elevated expression, and the hallowed animation with which she has already taken her place in the blessed chorus before the throne of her Lord.
When, therefore, we speak of sleeping in Christ, we must not understand a state of insensibility, or any want of consciousness; but of sacred rest, of conscious, intelligent rest, in the peaceful enjoyment of the presence of the Lord. But as stated already, this rest, however glorious, is only the intermediate state, and it is mentioned as it were, incidentally, while drawing your thoughts to the crowning point—the grand expectation of the church of Christ.
II. Let us consider then, secondly, The bright hope of the whole family.