A book written by one who knew of the first advent of the Redeemer closes, anticipating, desiring, beseeching the second,—“Even so, come, Lord Jesus” (Rev. xxii. 20). The revelation concerning that second coming is distinct and emphatic; but the exact period, when the event will happen, is wrapped in uncertainty. As when we ascend a winding river some well-known landmark appears to alter its position, seeming now distant, now near—so, at different points on the circuitous stream of life, the familiar subject of the second Advent reveals itself as a near or remote event. “It is plain,” says Archer Butler, “that that period which is distant in one scheme of things may be near in another, where events are on a vaster scale and move in a mightier orbit. That which is a whole life to the ephemera is but a day to the man; that which is in the brief succession of authentic human history is counted as remote, is but a single page in the volume of heavenly records. The coming of Christ may be distant as measured on the scale of human life, but it may be ‘near,’ and ‘at hand,’ and ‘at the door,’ when the interval of the two advents is compared, not merely with the four thousand years which were but its preparation, but with the line of infinite ages which it is itself preparing.” The uncertainty of the time of the second Advent and its stupendous issues define the attitude of the Church.
I. It is an attitude of expectancy.—1. The time of the second coming is uncertain. “But of the time and the seasons, brethren, ye have no need that I write unto you” (ver. 1). A gentle hint that all questions on that subject were unnecessary, as there was nothing more to be revealed. The untameable curiosity and reckless daring of man tempt him to pry into secrets with which he has nothing to do and to dogmatise on subjects of which he knows the least. Many have been fanatical enough to fix the day of the Lord’s coming. For a time, there has been a local excitement; the day has come and gone; the world has moved on as before, and the prophetic enthusiasts have exposed themselves to scorn and ridicule. “Of that day and hour knoweth no man” (Mark xiii. 32). This uncertainty is a perpetual stimulant to the people of God to exercise the ennobling virtues of hope, of watchfulness, of fidelity, of humility, of earnest inquiry, and of reverential awe.
2. The second coming will be sudden.—“For yourselves know perfectly that the day of the Lord so cometh as a thief in the night. For when they shall say, Peace and safety, then sudden destruction cometh upon them, as travail upon a woman with child” (vers. 2, 3). The thief not only gives no notice of his approach but takes every possible care to conceal his designs. The discovery of the mischief he has wrought takes place when it is too late. The prudent will take every precaution to avoid surprise and to baffle the subtlety and sharpness of the marauder. That which is sinful and unlawful in itself affords a resemblance to express an important truth and to admonish to duty. There is nothing more certain than that the Lord will come; nothing more uncertain when He will come; and both the one and the other should keep His people in an attitude of prayerful expectation and moral preparedness. Faith breeds fear; the more earnestly we believe, the more we tremble at the Divine threatenings. Unbelief lulls the soul into false security. What a dreadful awakening will that be, when the thunder of God’s wrath shall suddenly burst from the hitherto tranquil heavens!
3. The second coming will be terrible to the wicked.—“And they shall not escape” (ver. 3). Wicked men are never more secure than when destruction is nearest, never nearer destruction than when they are most secure. The swearer may be seized while the oath is burning on his tongue, the drunkard engulfed in judgment while the cup is trembling between his lips. The other day a certain suspension bridge was crowded with pleasure seekers; the slender erection, yielding under the unwonted strain, broke in two, and in a moment precipitated numbers into the river rolling below and into a watery grave. Not less fragile is the confidence on which the unbelieving rest; and more terrible still will be the catastrophe that will suddenly overtake them. The destruction of the wicked—of all their joy, of all they most prized in this life—will be sudden, painful, inevitable. Now there is peace, for mercy reigns; but when the great day comes there will be nothing but indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish upon every soul of man that doeth evil (Rom. ii. 8, 9).
II. It is an attitude of vigilance.—1. This vigilance is enforced on the ground of a moral transformation. “But ye, brethren, are not in darkness, that that day should overtake you as a thief. Ye are all the children of light, and the children of the day: we are not of the night, nor of darkness” (vers. 4, 5). Believers in Christ are delivered from the power of darkness, of spiritual ignorance, of godless profanity, of dark and dangerous security, and translated into the kingdom of light, of truth, of purity, and felicity. They are children of the day when the light shines the brightest, when privileges are more abundant, when opportunities multiply, and responsibility is correspondingly increased. The light of past ages was but the dawn of the effulgent day which now shines upon the world from the Gospel sun. Every inquiring and believing soul passes from the dawn to the daylight of experimental truth.
2. This vigilance must be constant.—“Therefore let us not sleep, as do others, but let us watch and be sober. For they that sleep sleep in the night; and they that be drunken are drunken in the night” (vers. 6, 7). Let us not, like the drunkards steeped in sottish slumber, be immersed in the deep sleep of sin and unconcern, neglecting duty, and never thinking of a judgment; but let us watch, and in order to do so effectually, be sober. We are day-people, not night-people; therefore, our work ought to be day-work, not night-work; our conduct such as will bear the eye of day and has no need to hide itself under the veil of night. A strict sobriety is essential to a sleepless vigilance.
III. It is an attitude of militant courage.—“But let us who are of the day be sober, putting on the breastplate of faith and love; and for an helmet the hope of salvation” (ver. 8). The Christian has to fight the enemy, as well as watch against him. He is a soldier, and a soldier on sentry. The Christian life is not one of soft, luxurious ease; it is a hard, fierce conflict. The graces of faith, love, and hope constitute the most complete armour of the soul. The breastplate and helmet protect the two most vital parts—the head and the heart. With head and heart right, the whole man is right. Let us keep the head from error and the heart from sinful lust, and we are safe. The best guards against error in religion and viciousness in life are—faith, hope, and charity; these are the virtues that inspire the most enterprising bravery. Drunkards and sluggards never make good soldiers.
IV. It is an attitude of confidence as to the future blessedness of the Church.—1. This blessedness is Divinely provided. “For God hath not appointed us to wrath, but to obtain salvation by our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us” (vers. 9, 10). The whole scheme of salvation was Divinely conceived and Divinely carried out in all its essential details. And, without discussing other methods by which the salvation of the race could be effected, it is sufficient for us to know that the infallible wisdom of God provided that the death of His Son was the most effectual method. Our sins had exposed us to the wrath of God, who had declared death to be the penalty of sin. This death Christ underwent on our behalf, in our stead, and so saved us from it. In every extremity, at every new challenge of the enemy, on each successive field of effort and peril, this is the password and battle-cry of God’s people—Christ died for us.
2. This blessedness consists in a constant fellowship with Christ.—“That whether we wake or sleep, we should live together with Him” (ver. 10). The happiest moments on earth are those spent in the company of the good, reciprocating the noblest ideas and emotions. Christ, by dying for us, has begotten us into a life of ineffable and endless felicity; and “the hope of salvation” enables us to look forward to the period when, released from the sorrows and uncertainties of this changeful life, we shall enjoy the bliss of uninterrupted communion with Jesus.
“The soul to be where Jesus is
Must be for ever blest.”