When Peter, James, and John beheld Christ transfigured on the summit of the mount, and as they gazed upon the glory of the scene, they said, "It is good to be here." It was a sight of Moses and Elias that enraptured their soul. That was only a transitory sight. But at death the Christian is admitted into endless glory. It is day without a night. It is to be admitted into the House of the Lord. "The house not made by hands, eternal in the heavens." Through much tribulation they enter into the kingdom. Soon shall close their earthly mission; soon shall end their pilgrim days; hope shall change to glad fruition. God is continually guiding our feet to those mansions above, where flowers that never fade do deck the heavenly plains. Where our loved ones gone before shall meet us and greet us on the golden strand. Many are the voices so sweet and tender, and true, who are calling us away to join the holy ones, that no man can number, who stand around the throne clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands. The angels beckon us away to join their ranks. Truly blessed are the dead who die in the Lord.
In the Treasury Hymnal there is a Pilgrim Song by Dr. Horatius Bonar, and the music is from Beethoven; it is very sweet and cheering in this connection:
A few more years shall roll, a few more seasons come,
And we shall be with those that rest asleep within the tomb.
Then, oh, my Lord, prepare my soul for that great day,
Oh, wash me in my Saviour's blood, and take my sins away.
We truly spend our years as a tale that is told. But in heavenly love abiding, no change my heart shall fear. How precious is this thought; though friend after friend depart, "For who has not lost a friend?" What though the storm of bereavement and affliction howl without? Still, amid it all, the unbounded, uncomprehended love of God changeth never.
Though our days are determined, and the number of our months are with God; "though He hath appointed the bounds that He cannot pass, yet He will hide us in the grave; He will keep us secret until His wrath upon the ungodly is past." We read, however, His power to redeem and deliver His elect, even amid the wreck and ruin of years and the gloom of the grave, for Christ is the resurrection and the life.
There is rest, yonder; only just across the river. It is only a narrow stream. "This is not my place of resting; mine's a city yet to come; onward to it I am hastening; on to my eternal home." "I go to prepare a place for you," said Jesus. No threatening danger or death there. It is no desert dreary. It is freedom from pain and weariness, from sin and sadness, in the dominions of the Bridegroom. For He says, "I have betrothed thee unto me forever; I have betrothed thee in righteousness, in the judgment, in loving kindness, and in mercy, and in faithfulness."
"In the Lord." How significant the words. It is to have the infinite arms of love and power encircling us. It is not to receive the spirit of bondage again to fear. It is to rise above the uncertainties of this life to the realities of that land where congregations ne'er break up, and Sabbaths have no end. Linked to the eternal, never broken chain of God's goodness, what can affright? Can the consolation of God be small with those who are His, when we are informed that He will ransom His people from the power of the grave? Shortly it will be all over with you in your pilgrimage journey. Watch and wait, therefore, for the coming of the King.