By the whole family, we mean the whole vast multitude of the children of God, “the whole family in heaven and earth;” now divided for awhile into two classes, the living and the departed; but really one in Christ, and about to be one in their common enjoyment of the blessings of his advent. Of these two portions neither has reached beyond the range of hope. The blessedness of the departed is unbounded now, but there are greater things in store for them; their cup seems full, but it shall be fuller still when Christ comes. The resurrection, not the death-bed, is the hope of the believer. We look not so much to the day when we enter the grave, and dear friends in bitter weeping part with us, as to the happy hour when we shall quit it, and those same friends rejoicing rise with us.
To this long expected hour the passage clearly refers, “For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. For this we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive and remain, shall not prevent them which are asleep. For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the Archangel, and with the trump of God; and the dead in Christ shall rise first.”
The first point to be here noticed is clearly the resurrection. Death has been already said to be but a sleep, for it is not permanent. “She is not dead but sleepeth,” may be applied to her whom we left in the grave on Friday. That grave shall shortly give up its tenant, and very body, that tendering beloved body, shall arise again in fresh life and beauty. As the springs from the acorn, and the butterfly from the chrysalis, so shall that animated form rise forth with a fresh and heavenly animation; that very hand shall hold the palm, and that very voice unite once more in the praises of her Lord.
But though the same, it will be infinitely more glorious. You have seen lately a beautiful planet shedding its soft light over the ocean, and, evening after evening, it has appeared very lovely, but yet how far does it fall short in splendour of a summer’s sun in a cloudless sky! Just such we are taught in 1 Cor. xv, 41, is the wonderful difference between the dying and rising body. It was a bright and beautiful star that has been shedding forth its lovely light these many years in the midst of you; but, though beautiful, it is not to be compared to what we are about to behold in the resurrection. It was sown in corruption, little by little laying her low; but it shall be raised in incorruption, no more to be silenced by disease, or to give up through decay of strength. It was sown in dishonour and though dearly loved must be buried from the view; but it shall be raised in glory, to form a part of the triumphant retinue of the King of Kings. It was sown in weakness, and perhaps it was one of the most beautiful features of her character that that weakness was so meekly met, and so cheerfully submitted to; but it shall be raised in power, the power of undying strength, and everlasting life from God. It was sown a natural body, subject to the multiplied infirmities of a ruined, fallen, sin-stricken humanity: and none felt their hindrances more than she did; but it shall rise a spiritual body, fully fitted for spiritual work, without impediment and without decay. Can we wonder then that with such a prospect full in view, the Apostle should write to the bereaved Thessalonians, and remind them “concerning those which are asleep, that they sorrow not even as others which have no hope?”
But this is not all. There is another blessing promised, and that is reunion.
The great sorrow of this day is separation. It is a sense of separation, of loss, and bereavement, that has drawn forth so many tears. Indeed there is little besides to cause a tear. As far as she is concerned there is no cause for sorrow. If ever there was one of whom it might be said “she fought a good fight, she has finished her course, she has kept the faith,” it was of her. She was one who walked before God faithfully, who loved affectionately, who laboured cheerfully, who trusted simply, who rejoiced unfeignedly, and now she has sunk gently into the arms of her Lord, to repose there in perfect peace till the time comes when she shall be called forth to accompany His advent. Can we say there is sorrow in all this? Can we exclude the thoughts of even joy at such a conclusion of such a course? Yes, there is sorrow, and that because there is separation, and wherever there is true affection, the separation, however peaceful, must leave a void which nothing else upon earth can fill. The home is left desolate after all, and however sweet the assurance for the departed above, the heart still aches when left alone to tread a solitary path below. How beautifully then is this met in the passage! There is to be a reunion as well as a resurrection. We shall not rise separately, but as a reunited body in Christ. There is one beautiful clause that clearly teaches this,—“Then we which are alive and remain, shall be caught up, together with them, in the clouds.” So that our blessed Lord when he comes against will not merely restore life, but companionship. He will undo all that death is doing. Death kills, He raises; death divides, He unites; death keeps us at a distance from those who are gone before, He brings us once more together, so that with them we should have the joy of one common life and glory. Nor will the ties of life be lost or forgotten in that new and sacred fellowship. The strong affections which God has planted will not be obliterated in the grave; for you remember that remarkable passage in this very epistle, in which the Apostle anticipates the joy of meeting these very Thessalonians at that blessed hour. In chap. ii, 19, he says “What is our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing? Are not even ye in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his coming?” He clearly then expected to meet and recognize these converts at that day. For nearly 1800 years both he and they have slept in their graves, but the close and intimate tie that then united them shall appear with undiminished strength in their resurrection, and the risen Apostle shall rejoice in his risen converts before the Lord. Then will be the day for the regathering of broken families, and the healing of broken hearts. Then will be the reunion of the minister with the people, of the parent with the child, of the brother with the sister, of the husband with the wife; a reunion without the possibility of separation, for there shall be no more death, and the promise is that together with them we shall ever be with the Lord.
But the passage carries us one step higher still, viz: to the uninterrupted enjoyment of the presence of our Lord himself.
There is first the resurrection, then the reunion, but the crowning promise of the whole is an everlasting fellowship with Christ himself. “So shall we ever be with the Lord.” Now this must ever be the longing desire of the child of God. Nothing created can ever satisfy the soul that is born again of the Spirit. Friends may cheer, and counsel, and animate, and sympathize, but they cannot really satisfy, and a union with Christ is the only thing that can give abiding peace. You, whose privilege it was to kneel beside the loved and departed one in prayer, and to unite in the outpouring of the soul before her God, you can well remember how ardently she thirsted for Him; not merely for his gifts but for himself, that we might be satisfied with his love and filled with his Spirit. It was this ardent desire that led to her early rising in winter and summer, in order that she might make use of the blessed privilege of communion with God. It was this that made the Lord’s day a delight to her soul, for she could rejoice in it as one altogether separated unto him. She thirsted to have her soul filled with the love of Christ, and when we reflect on such a character, what a power is there in the promise, “So shall we ever be with the Lord”! Then all thoughts will be absorbed in him, all hearts satisfied in him; and whether we be found among the living to be changed, or the dead to be raised, all will be one in him, to behold his glory, to hear his voice, to wonder at his love, and though faintly, yet sinlessly, to reflect his character. “Beloved now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be, but we know,” we do not merely think, or hope, but we know, “that when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.”
Such then is the blessed hope with which our God has directed us to comfort each other in the day of sorrow; and though our perception of it be but imperfect, we must all admit that it is sufficient. If this be not enough what more can we require? But before we close it is important that we all bear in mind that there is a limitation to the promise; not indeed as to the excellence of its rich gifts, but as to the persons by whom these gifts will be enjoyed; and there are two short clauses in the passage, which though short are very full, and mark with the utmost clearness who those are that shall be partakers of this blessed life. They are those who “sleep in Jesus”; or in other words those who are “dead in Christ.” The whole work is the simple result of the great and perfect redemption wrought out by our Blessed Lord. If it had not been for the atonement there could have been no forgiveness, and no fellowship with God; and without his resurrection there could be none to follow for his people. All springs from redeeming Love, and all is enjoyed simply though Christ. Those that are without Christ must be given up to hopeless sorrow, for to them the passage is without its joy. But to those who are in him; not merely in his church, but in him; forgiven through his blood, justified through his righteousness, baptized by his Spirit into his body, to them the words are full of inexpressible consolation, and present a prospect so brilliant that it may well raise the heart above the sorrow of the intervening separation.
The great, grand, lesson for the day is therefore this, that we each one seek, and that without delay, for this unchanging union with Christ. You have seen amongst you the fruits of such a union, you have had residing in your midst for the last twenty-five years one who was without a doubt in Christ; who, I would rather say, is in Christ, who is with Christ, and who will rise in Him at his appearing. You have seen the character formed on such a union. You have witnessed the holy peace, the warm affection, the brightness of Christian joy, the tender and ever ready sympathy, the untiring zeal for souls, the patient labour, and the earnest endeavour to bring poor sinners to their Saviour. All this you have seen yourselves. Nor must we lay it down simply to natural character or inborn qualifications. We do not exclude these, for there was undoubtedly a beautiful character as the basis; but it was the union with Christ that gave to all its true beauty. It was the gift of the Holy Spirit earnestly sought in unceasing supplication before God. There never yet was one more ready to confess her own utter nothingness, or who felt more deeply that Christ Jesus, and Christ Jesus alone, was her every and only hope. And we must enjoy the same union if we would glorify God. Do we wish to walk in the steps of those that are gone before, or rather to follow Him whom they followed? We must seek the strength to do so in this union with Christ. Do we want to overcome sin, to fight manfully against the corruption of a depraved and fallen nature? Our only hope, and, thanks be to God! it is sufficient, is in this union with Christ. Do we desire to labour for God, and like her that is gone, to spend the powers which He has given in the delightful effort to gather in poor sinners to his kingdom? As the work must be for Christ, so the power must be in Christ, and the whole blessing granted through a union with Him. Do we wish to be able to meet the day of sorrow, and when the heart is overwhelmed to repose peacefully in the sure fidelity and tender sympathy of a gracious God who has loved us with an everlasting love? Again are we driven to the necessity of the same union, for through Him it is that the Holy Comforter descends into the soul. And do we desire to pass peacefully through the valley of the shadow of death, to be kept at peace when all around us fails, when the outward man decays, when the voice becomes silent, and the eye dim? Do we wish then to fall asleep in perfect safety? Our hope must be in that same blessed union with that same blessed Saviour; for not merely in the present may we then look up and say “I will fear no evil for thou art with me,” but we may look beyond the valley and add “Them that sleep in Jesus will God bring with him.”