Plain Sermons, Preached at Archbishop Tenison's Chapel, Regent Street

by James Galloway Cowan

Now, natural death is like this waking; it does not so much transfer us to another state, as show us clearly in what state we are; whether in the presence of God, or banished from Him. To be in outer darkness, where hope never comes, where the sun of heaven sends forth no rays; to be punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of His power, this is death completed. Surely, then, to be without God in the world; to be removed from His favouring, and comforting, and guiding presence; to live only in such unconscious dependence on Him as the beasts that perish; to have but the good things of our own finding; this is death begun: this is to have a name to live, and yet be dead, to be as really dead as are the spirits of the doomed-departed, except that we know not fully (which is part of death) the misery of our condition; and (blessed be God!) that we may as yet live again, and be restored to His presence, because Christ has opened the gates of Paradise, and bids His angels gently drive us in, if we will; yea, calls to us Himself, and entreats us to enter; to have again the condition—spiritualised, exalted, perfected—of unfallen Adam.

My brethren, thus think of death, and of life. Do not make so much of the heaving of the last sigh; the drawing of the last breath; as though the battle of life were fought, and the victory achieved on a death-bed; as though the soul began its banishment when it quits the body. Many, whose flesh has long since mouldered into dust, have never really died; and many, who still walk the earth, full of energy, and vigour, and what man calls life, are really dead. To live, is to be with God: to live for ever, is to be with God for ever. To die, is to be without God: to die for ever, is to be without God for ever. “If,” says Christ, “a man keep my sayings, he shall never see death.” “Whosoever liveth and believeth on me, shall never die.” “He that hath the Son hath life, and he that hath not the Son of God hath not life.”

I have said thus much to suggest to your consideration a very important, life-directing truth, viz.: that the heavenly life and the second death, both have their beginning on this side the grave; that God, for Christ’s sake, vouchsafes His presence, to those who seek and honour it, to guide, and comfort, and strengthen, and sanctify them; and where He is there is real life: on the other hand, that God withdraws Himself from those who disregard, or slight Him; and where He is not, there is death, the second death—capable, as yet, of being overcome, and put to an end; but more likely to prevail permanently in proportion as it is not felt; and even now working many of its miserable effects on all, not excepting the most hardened and apathetic who are subject to it. Try, dear brethren, to impress yourselves with this truth. Do not merely hope for eternal life, or fear the second death beyond the grave, after you die. Try to secure the one (the actual possession of it, I mean), and to avoid the other, in this life, by earnestly seeking and sustaining the real, the proffered presence with you, and in you, of the life-giving and upholding God.

But, there is a better presence, a more perfect life, spoken of in the text. To this I would refer, as furnishing truest consolation, exciting liveliest hopes, and stimulating to holiest exertions,—“eternal abode with God in heaven.” When the minister of Christ would comfort the mourning relatives of a departed saint, and, as the phrase is, improve the occasion to their good, he does not forbid them to feel and express sorrow, for he remembers that Christ wept at the tomb of Lazarus, but only charges them to set bounds to their sorrow, and prepare to stay it presently; because, it is merely a natural, and not a Christian feeling; because, if continued, it becomes a selfish, inconsiderate bemoaning of their personal loss; a virtual denial that the departed is at rest, and in bliss; a rejection of the hope that they shall meet again, in a better and abiding home. “So shall we ever be with the Lord.” What mean these words? We know in theory (many of us, let me hope, experimentally), what it is to be with God, or to have Him with us here. It is not simply to dwell in the same world with Him, near Him, close to Him, by His permission, under His observance and government, as the omnipresent God. No! it is not the necessary, but a special presence which we mean. A presence like that which accompanied the Israelites through the wilderness; which actually went with them, guided them, fed them, helped them in difficulties, reproved them in transgressions, interested Itself specially in their circumstances, and manifested that interest, not only by its doings, but by a sight of Itself in a pillar of fire, or a pillar of a cloud.

Again, like that presence, it is not constant; the pillar is sometimes withdrawn. There is, occasionally, no answer given by Urim and Thummim; we are left to fight, now and then, in our own strength only, and then we fail; we hunger, we thirst, and no Divine supply comes; we mourn, and there is no spiritual comfort; we murmur, and there is no reproof; we sin, and there is no chastisement: God, for the time, is absent from our camp.

Again, like that presence, it does not secure us from trials. We have long marches, and powerful adversaries; we journey on in perils in the wilderness, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils of our own countrymen (our fellow Christians), in perils by the heathen; in weariness and painfulness; in watchings often; in hunger and thirst; in fastings often; in cold and nakedness; in deaths oft. God, peradventure, is with us all the while; but it is through the world of tribulation He leads us, not by a miraculously smooth and safe path. His presence is manifested in occasional glimpses. His voice is heard in disjoined words. His arm is felt in intermittent upholdings. I cannot well picture this presence to those who have no experience of it; I need not do so to those who have realised it: but all may see that, in this lower world, we are not ever with the Lord in the fullest manifestation of His presence; in the constant upholding of His arm; in entire exemption from trials; in perfect fruition of blessings. That may not be on earth. The sun may lighten up our dark hovel; but it is a hovel still. Divine help may lessen our labour; but we must labour still. Divine consolation may soothe us in our losses; but we are to suffer losses still. Howsoever God be with us; whatsoever He does for us; the wilderness is still a wilderness.

But the wilderness has a limit; its limit is what we call death. To the faithful, that bourne is like the Jordan,—when they have crossed it, they shall be in the promised land, the land that floweth with milk and honey, where God’s abiding, glorious temple is set up; wherein there remaineth rest and joy for the people of God. Whoso entereth that land, shall be ever with the Lord, enjoying His most complete and satisfying presence. “Father, I will that those whom thou hast given me may be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory.” This prayer shall then be realised. They shall see the King in His beauty, and the land that is now afar off. There shall be no more curse; but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in their dwelling: they shall serve Him, and they shall see His face: with what feelings and emotions, at present we can form no adequate conceptions; but we know that it shall be with joy: that they shall love and praise Him; that it shall be their untiring, unalloyed delight to gaze upon His glory, to sing His praises, to share His love.

And they shall be like Him. As, in this world, they have borne the image of the earthly Adam, so, in that, they shall bear the image of the heavenly. That image, lost in the fall, must indeed begin to be resumed here in regeneration, and be more and more put on in life-long conversion to God. By contemplating Christ, and watching His countenance, as we are allowed to see it here, we must gradually assume His features, and be changed into His image. But we must see Him, not in faint resemblances, and bare outline, but as He is, before we can be wholly like Him. Then, but not before, shall we be transfigured, and glorified, and changed from glory to glory; body and spirit advancing in excellence, and intelligence, and love, and bliss, till they become what and as Christ is,—reaching unto the full stature of a man in Christ Jesus, satisfied with the perfect assumption of His likeness.

Yes, and as they gaze ever on Him, so shall He on them. No sin shall cause the Lord to hide His face from them; no discipline shall require His occasional withdrawal; no cloud shall obscure heaven’s sky; no frown shall be seen; no reproof heard. He shall not try them. Evil shall not approach to tempt them. A Saviour’s love shall surround them; not to carry them through a wilderness, not to keep them in tribulations, but to lead them beside the clear fountains of peace; to plant them all around His throne, where with eyes wiped of all tears, they shall feast on His presence, and, with adoring souls and bodies, rest in His love.

And shall not the sharing of this presence with others augment their bliss? We (they and us) shall be ever with the Lord. All the sons of God shall there meet together, and dwell with the Lord. Man, I need not tell you, is a social being: he is formed for company; he cannot be fully happy alone. It is by sharing his good things that he comes to enjoy them; it is by speaking of them, that he comes to feel them. (Would that Christians could be brought to act on this admitted truth, as Christians!) In this world there is no greater enjoyment than to associate with a band of fellow-countrymen, journeying towards the same place, with kindred tastes, and tempers, and hopes. Oh! what then shall be the blessedness of association in heaven with the whole body of the saints? Think of being associated in the presence, and favour, and adoration of God, with holy angels; with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob; with David, and Daniel, and Mary, and John, and Paul; and all the others whose praise is in the Gospel! Think of meeting, in heaven, with all the primitive Christians and martyrs; with all the perfected saints who once walked on earth with us; with our relatives, our parents, our brothers and sisters, our children, our bosom friends: to be re-united with them in bonds that shall never be broken; where all are happy; where every eye looks to Jesus, where every heart leaps to Him; each mouth is opened in His praise; each knee is bent in His adoration; where God is the centre and the circumference, and heaven the roof and the floor! And all this for ever—uninterrupted, unending, growing fresher, intensified, better appreciated by the rolling on of eternity. So shall we ever be with the Lord.