This imperfection, which blasts so much happiness in this world, will never find its way into our heavenly home. For the soul not only sees that He who loved her from eternity will continue to do so everlastingly; she not only sees the utter impossibility of God's ever despising her; but she, at the same time, sees the impossibility of her ever proving false to Him. She not only sees God as He is, but she also sees everything else as it is. However beautiful, therefore, creatures may be in heaven, she always sees in God a beauty and perfection so vastly, so infinitely superior, that it is impossible for her to be captivated by creatures, as she was in this world. She loves all the companions of her bliss, it is true; but she loves them all in God, and for God. She loves them because they are His, and because he loves them. She loves them too, because they are so holy, so beautiful, and so much like God, and, therefore, deserving of her love. But her chiefest, her absorbing love is centred in God, and remains centred there forever. Never can there come a day when she will see a growing coldness in God for her. Never shall there dawn a day when she will discover in herself a growing coldness for God; and, consequently, there never shall be a day when her exceeding happiness will fade away or be lessened. Rather, she sees the dawn of a glorious day when her happiness will be increased, perfected, and completed in the resurrection of the body—a day when other joys and pleasures will be added to those she now enjoys in the Beatific Vision.
CHAPTER V.
THE BEAUTY AND GLORY OF THE RISEN BODY.
We have seen in the foregoing chapters that, in the Beatific Vision, the human soul sees, loves, and enjoys God, and that her essential happiness consists in that unfailing, blessed vision. But, although the blessedness she now enjoys is far greater than words can express, it is not yet integral or complete, and never will be, except when she is again clothed in her own body, beautified, and glorified after the likeness of her Saviour's body.
However, although her happiness is not yet complete, you must not therefore imagine that the hast shadow of sadness or unhappiness hangs over her. For, as we have seen, her will is now totally conformed to God's will. It follows that although she sees other joys and pleasures in store for her, and desires them, these desires do not in the hast mar her exceeding happiness. She wills the resurrection of her body as God wills it, and because He wills it, and because also her body is absolutely necessary to complete her human nature, which essentially consists of both soul and body. We shall begin our meditations on the resurrection of the body by first contemplating the beauty and splendor of the glorified body. In order to form some idea of the perfect beauty and splendor of form which is in store for us, we must first look at some of the transformations which take place in the natural order. These will aid us, very materially, in arriving at a conception, more or less perfect, of the glorious transformation which the power of God will work in us at the resurrection.
When we examine the kingdoms of nature, we discover that the gross matter which surrounds us in shapeless masses, is susceptible of forms and organizations so perfect, refined, and beautiful, that we may, in some sense, call these forms glorified matter. It is, certainly, matter glorified far above inferior forms in the natural order. Let us take a few examples.
What is the diamond? It is nothing more than crystallized carbon, or charcoal. There is nothing in the whole range of science which can be so easily and so positively proved as this. The famous diamond Koh-i-noor, or mountain of light, which now sparkles in the British crown, and which is worth more than half a million of dollars, could, in a few moments, be reduced to a thimbleful of worthless coal-dust. Yet, how great a difference, in appearance and value, between that precious gem and a thimbleful of coal-dust! Again, what are other gems, such as the ruby, the sapphire, the topaz, the emerald, and others? They are nothing more than crystallized clay or sand, with a trifling quantity of metallic oxide or rust, which gives to each one its peculiar color. Yet, what a difference between these sparkling and costly jewels and the shapeless clod or sand which we trample under foot!
If we now look for a moment into the vegetable kingdom, we see this glorification of matter still more wonderfully displayed. Of what are all plants composed? They are all composed of four elements of matter, which have no remarkable beauty of their own. In scientific language they are called carbon or charcoal, oxygen, hydrogen, and nitrogen. By the power and the laws of life these are transformed into that endless variety of beauty and color, odor and taste, so striking in the vegetable world. Hence, the most beautiful flowers, and their exquisite perfumes, as well as the delicious fruits to which they give birth, are all made of the very same elements of matter as the bark, the wood, and the root of the tree that bears them. Yet, what a difference between the coarse tree and the delicate flower! What a difference, too, between the tasteless bark or the wood of the tree, and the luscious fruit that hangs in clusters from its branches!
Now if, in the natural order, God can and does transform coarse and shapeless matter into forms so beautiful and so glorious, what shall we say of the beauty and perfection into which He will change our vile bodies! For all these transformations which we now witness belong to the natural order, and are the result of the laws which govern matter in this world of imperfection; whereas our transformation in the resurrection depends on the immediate act of God's almighty power. The difference, therefore, between our present corruptible body and the glorified body, will be greater by far than the difference we now see between charcoal and the diamond, or between the exquisitely shaped flower and the coarse shrub that bears it.
Having said this much to aid us in forming some idea of the glorified body, we shall now proceed to examine one of its attributes, which St. Paul mentions, when he says: "It is sown in dishonor, it shall rise in glory."* Our bodies were indeed sown in dishonor, in the company of worms, and a prey to corruption. They had been honored by the presence of an immortal spirit, the very image of the living God. They had been honored by the Holy Ghost, who made them His temple. They had been honored, too, by the presence of Jesus Christ, who made them His tabernacle, every time we received Him in holy communion. But death has struck them down; the spirit has fled; they lie cold and motionless, and corruption begins to assert its empire over them. Our nearest and dearest friends hasten to throw them into the dark and silent grave, where they return into their original dust. Then, indeed, our bodies are "sown in dishonor." But when the fulness of time shall have come, these same dishonored bodies "shall rise in glory."