PREFACE TO THE READER.
Christian Reader,
The design of the ensuing Discourse is to declare some part of that Glory of our Lord Jesus Christ, which is revealed in the Scripture, and proposed as the principal object of our Faith, Love, Delight, and Admiration. But alas! after our utmost and most diligent inquiries, we must say, how little a portion is it of him that we can understand! His Glory is incomprehensible, and his praises are unutterable. Some things an illuminated mind may conceive of it; but what we can express in comparison of what it is in itself, is even less than nothing. But as for those who have forsaken the only true Guide herein, endeavoring to be wise above what is written, and to raise their contemplations by fancy and imagination above Scripture Revelation (as many have done), they have darkened counsel without knowledge, uttering things which they understand not, which have no substance or spiritual food of Faith in them.
However, that real view which we may have of Christ and his Glory in this world by Faith, however weak and obscure that knowledge which we may attain of them by Divine Revelation, is inexpressibly to be preferred above all other wisdom, understanding, or knowledge whatever. So it is declared by him who will be acknowledged a competent judge in these things: "Yes doubtless," says he, "I account all these things but loss, for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord." He who does not so has no part in him.
The Revelation made of Christ in the blessed Gospel is far more excellent, more glorious, and more filled with rays of Divine wisdom and goodness, than the whole creation; and the just comprehension of it, if attainable, can contain or afford. Without the knowledge hereof, the mind of man, however priding itself in other inventions and discoveries, is wrapped up in darkness and confusion.
This therefore deserves the severest of our thoughts, the best of our meditations, and our utmost diligence in them. For if our future blessedness shall consist in being where he is, and beholding his Glory, what better preparation can there be for it than in a constant previous contemplation of that Glory in the Revelation that is made in the Gospel, unto this very end, that by a view of it we may be gradually transformed into the same Glory?
I shall not therefore use any apology for the publishing of the ensuing meditations, intended first for the exercise of my own mind, and then for the edification of a private congregation, which is likely to be the last service I shall do them in that kind. Some may by the consideration of them be called to attend unto the same duty with more diligence than formerly, and receive directions for the discharge of it; and some may be provoked to communicate their greater light and knowledge unto the good of many. And that which I design further in the present Discourse is to give a brief account of the necessity and use, in life and death, of the duty exhorted unto.
Particular motives unto the diligent discharge of this duty will be pressed in the Discourse itself. Here some things more general only shall be premised. For all persons not immersed in sensual pleasures, not overdrenched in the love of this world and present things, who have any generous or noble thoughts about their own nature, being, and end, are under the highest obligation to betake themselves unto this contemplation of Christ and his Glory. Without this they shall never attain true rest or satisfaction in their own minds. He it is alone in whom the race of mankind may boast and glory, on whom all its felicities do depend.
1. He it is in whom our nature, which was debased as low as hell by apostasy from God, is exalted above the whole creation. Our nature in the original constitution of it, in the persons of our first parents, was crowned with honor and dignity. The image of God wherein it was made, and the dominion over the lower world with which it was entrusted, made it the seat of excellency, of beauty, and of glory. But of them all it was at once divested and made naked by sin, and laid groveling in the dust from whence it was taken. "Dust you are, and to dust you shall return" was its righteous doom. And all its internal faculties were invaded by deformed lusts; everything that might render the whole unlike unto God, whose image it had lost. Hence it became the contempt of angels, the dominion of Satan, who being the enemy of the whole creation, never had any thing or place to reign in but the debased nature of man. Nothing was now more vile and base, its glory was utterly departed. It had both lost its peculiar nearness unto God, which was its honor, and was fallen into the greatest distance from him of all creatures, the devils only excepted, which was its ignominy and shame. And in this state, as unto any thing in itself, it was left to perish eternally.
In this condition, lost, poor, base, yes cursed, the Lord Christ the Son of God found our nature. And thereupon in infinite condescension and compassion sanctifying a portion of it unto himself, he took it to be his own in a holy ineffable subsistence in his own Person. And herein again the same nature so depressed into the utmost misery, is exalted above the whole creation of God. For in that very nature, God has set him at his own right hand in the heavenly places, far above all principalities, and powers, and might, and dominion, and every name that is named, not only in this world, but also in that which is to come. This is that which is so celebrated by the Psalmist, with the highest admiration (Psalm 8:3-8). This is the greatest privilege we have among all our fellow creatures; this we may glory in, and value ourselves upon. Those who engage this nature in the service of sensual lusts and pleasures, who think that its felicity and utmost capacities consist in their satisfaction with the accomplishment of other earthly temporary desires, are satisfied with it in its state of apostasy from God. But those who have received the light of Faith and Grace, so as rightly to understand the being and end of that nature of which they are partakers, cannot but rejoice in its deliverance from the utmost debasement into that glorious exaltation which it has received in the Person of Christ. And this must needs make thoughts of him full of refreshment unto their souls. Let us take care of our persons; the glory of our nature is safe in him.
2. In him the relation of our nature unto God is eternally secured. We were created in a covenant relation unto God. Our nature was related unto him in a way of friendship, of likeness, and complacency. But the bond of this relation and union was quickly broken by our apostasy from him. Thereupon our whole nature became to be at the utmost moral distance from God, and enmity against him, which is the depth of misery. But God in infinite wisdom and grace did design once more to recover it, and take it again near unto himself. And he would do it in such a way as should render it utterly impossible that there should ever be a separation between him and it any more. Heaven and earth may pass away, but there shall never be a dissolution of the union between God and our nature any more. He did it therefore by assuming it into a substantial union with himself, in the Person of the Son. Hereby the fullness of the Godhead dwelt in it bodily, or substantially, and eternally. Hereby is its relation unto God eternally secured. And among all the mysterious excellencies which relate hereunto, there are two which continually present themselves unto our consideration.
1. That this nature of ours is capable of this glorious exaltation and subsistence in God. No creature could conceive how omnipotent wisdom, power, and goodness could actuate themselves unto the production of this effect. The mystery hereof is the object of the admiration of angels, and will be so of the whole church unto all eternity. What is revealed concerning the glory, way, and manner of it in the Scripture, I have declared in my Treatise concerning the Mystery of Godliness, or the Person of Christ. What mind can conceive, what tongue can express, who can sufficiently admire the wisdom, goodness, and condescension of God herein! And whereas he has proposed unto us this glorious object of our faith and meditation, how vile and foolish are we if we spend our thoughts about other things in neglect of it!
2. This is also an ineffable pledge of the love of God toward our nature. For although he will not take it in any other instance, save that of the man Christ Jesus, into this relation with himself by virtue of personal union, yet therein he has given a glorious pledge of his love unto, and valuation of, that nature. For verily he took not on him the nature of angels, but he took on him the seed of Abraham. And this kindness intends unto our persons, as participants of that nature. For he designed this glory unto the man Christ Jesus, that he might be the firstborn of the new creation, that we might be made conformable unto him according to our measure; and as the members of that body of which he is the head, we are participants in this glory.
3. It is he in whom our nature has been carried successfully, and victoriously, through all the oppositions that it is liable unto, and even death itself. But the glory hereof I shall speak unto distinctly in its proper place, which follows, and therefore shall here pass it by.
4. He it is who in himself has given us a pledge of the capacity of our nature to inhabit those blessed regions of light, which are far above these visible heavens. Here we dwell in tabernacles of clay, that are crushed before the moth; such as cannot be raised, so as to abide one foot's breadth above the earth we tread upon. The heavenly luminaries which we can behold appear too great and glorious for our cohabitation. We are as grasshoppers in our own eyes in comparison of those gigantic beings; and they seem to dwell in places which would immediately swallow up and extinguish our natures. How then shall we entertain an apprehension of being carried and exalted above them all, to have an everlasting subsistence in places incomprehensibly more glorious than the spheres wherein they reside? What capacity is there in our nature of such a habitation? But hereof the Lord Christ has given us a pledge in himself. Our nature in him is passed through these visible heavens, and is exalted far above them. Its eternal habitation is in the blessed regions of light and glory; and he has promised that where he is, there we shall be, and that forever.
Other encouragements there are innumerable to stir us up unto diligence in the discharge of the duty here proposed; namely, a continual contemplation of the Glory of Christ in his Person, Office, and Grace. Some of them, the principal of them which I have any acquaintance with, are represented in the ensuing Discourse. I shall therefore here add the peculiar advantage which we may obtain in the diligent discharge of this duty. Which is, that it will carry us cheerfully, comfortably, and victoriously through life and death, and all that we have to contend with in either of them.
And let it be remembered, that I do here suppose what is written on this subject in the ensuing Discourse, as being designed to prepare the minds of the readers for the due improvement of it.
As unto this present life, it is well known what it is unto the most of them who concern themselves in these things. Temptations, afflictions, changes, sorrows, dangers, fears, sickness, and pains do fill up no small part of it. And on the other hand, all our earthly relishes, refreshments, and comforts are uncertain, transitory, and unsatisfying; all things of each sort being embittered by the remainders of sin. Hence everything wherein we are concerned has the root of trouble and sorrow in it. Some labor under wants, poverty, and straits all their days; and some have very few hours free from pains and sickness. And all these things, with others of an alike nature, are heightened at present by the calamitous season wherein our lot is fallen. Almost all things in all nations are filled with confusions, disorders, dangers, distresses, and troubles; wars and rumors of wars abound, with tokens of further approaching judgments; distress of nations with perplexities, men's hearts failing them for fear, and for looking after those things which are coming on the earth. There is in many places no peace unto him that goes out, nor to him that comes in, but great vexations are on the inhabitants of the world; nation is destroyed of nation, and city of city, for God vexes them with all adversity. And in the mean time, vexation at the ungodly deeds of wicked men does greatly further the troubles of life; the sufferings of many also for the testimony of their consciences are deplorable, with the divisions and animosities that abound among all sorts of Christians.
But the shortness, the vanity, the miseries of human life have been the subject of the complaints of all sorts of considering persons, heathens as well as Christians; nor is it my present business to insist upon them. My inquiry is only after the relief which we may obtain against all these evils, that we faint not under them, that we may have the victory over them.
This in general is declared by the Apostle (2 Corinthians 4): "We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed. But for this cause we faint not, but though our outward man perishes, yet the inward man is renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, works for us a more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal."
Our beholding by faith things that are not seen, things spiritual and eternal, will alleviate all our afflictions, make their burden light, and preserve our souls from fainting under them. Of these things the Glory of Christ of which we treat is the principal, and in a due sense comprehensive of them all. For we behold the glory of God himself in the face of Jesus Christ. He that can at all times retreat unto the contemplation of this Glory will be carried above the perplexing, prevailing sense of any of these evils, of a confluence of them all.
It is a woeful kind of life, when men scramble for poor perishing reliefs in their distresses. This is the universal remedy and cure, the only balm for all our diseases. Whatever presses, urges, perplexes; if we can but retreat in our minds unto a view of this Glory, and a due consideration of our own interest therein, comfort and support will be administered unto us. Wicked men in their distresses (which sometimes overtake even them also) are like a troubled sea that cannot rest. Others are heartless and despondent, not without secret repining at the wise disposals of Divine Providence, especially when they look on the better condition (as they suppose) of others. And the best of us are apt all to wax faint and weary, when these things press upon us in an unusual manner, or under their long continuance without a prospect of relief. This is the stronghold which such prisoners of hope are to turn themselves unto. In this contemplation of the Glory of Christ, they will find rest unto their own souls.
1. It will herein, and in the discharge of this duty, be made evident, how slight and inconsiderable all these things are from which our troubles and distresses do arise. For they all grow on this root of an overvaluation of temporal things. And unless we can arrive at a fixed judgment that all things here below are transitory and perishing, reaching only unto the outward man, or the body (perhaps unto the killing of it), that the best of them have nothing that is truly substantial or abiding in them, that there are other things wherein we have an assured interest that are incomparably better than they and above them, it is impossible but that we must spend our lives in fears, sorrows, and distractions. One real view of the Glory of Christ, and of our own concern therein, will give us a full relief in this matter. For what are all the things of this life, what is the good or evil of them, in comparison of an interest in this transcendent Glory? When we have due apprehensions hereof, when our minds are possessed with thoughts of it, when our affections reach out after its enjoyments, let pain, and sickness, and sorrows, and fears, and dangers, and death say what they will, we shall have in readiness wherewith to combat with them and overcome them; and that on this consideration, that they are all outward, transitory, and passing away; whereas our minds are fixed on those things which are eternal, and filled with incomprehensible glory.
2. The minds of men are apt by their troubles to be cast into disorder, to be tossed up and down, and disquieted with various affections and passions. So the Psalmist found it in himself in the time of his distress; hence he calls himself to that account: "Why are you cast down, O my soul? and why are you disquieted in me?" And indeed the mind on all such occasions is its own greatest troubler. It is apt to let loose its passions of fear and sorrow, which act themselves in innumerable perplexing thoughts, until it is carried utterly out of its own power. But in this state a due contemplation of the Glory of Christ will restore and compose the mind, bring it into a sedate, quiet frame, wherein faith will be able to say unto the winds and waves of distempered passions, "Peace, be still," and they shall obey it.
3. It is the way and means of conveying a sense of God's love unto our souls, which is that alone wherein ultimately we find rest in the midst of all the troubles of this life, as the Apostle declares (Romans 5:2-5). It is the Spirit of God who alone communicates a sense of this love unto our souls; it is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Spirit. However, there are ways and means to be used on our part, whereby we may be disposed and made fit to receive these communications of Divine love. Among these the principal is the contemplation of the Glory of Christ insisted on, and of God the Father in him. It is the season, it is the way and means, at which and whereby the Holy Spirit will give a sense of the love of God unto us, causing us thereupon to rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory. This will be made evident in the ensuing Discourse. This will lift the minds and hearts of believers above all the troubles of this life, and is the sovereign antidote that will expel all the poison that is in them, which otherwise might perplex and enslave their souls.
I have but touched on these things, as designing to enlarge somewhat on that which does ensue. And this is the advantage we may have in the discharge of this duty with respect unto death itself. It is the assiduous contemplation of the Glory of Christ which will carry us cheerfully and comfortably into it, and through it. My principal work having been now for a long season to die daily, as living in a continual expectation of my dissolution, I shall on this occasion acquaint the reader with some few of my thoughts and reliefs with reference unto death itself.
There are sundry things required of us, that we may be able to encounter death cheerfully, constantly, and victoriously. For want of these, or some of them, I have known gracious souls who have lived in a kind of bondage for fear of death all their days. We know not how God will manage any of our minds and souls in that season, in that trial. For he acts towards us in all such things in a way of sovereignty. But these are the things which he requires of us in a way of duty.
1. Peculiar actings of faith to resign and commit our departing souls into the hand of him who is able to receive them, to keep and preserve them, as also to dispose of them into a state of rest and blessedness, are required of us.
The soul is now parting with all things here below, and that forever. None of all the things which it has seen, heard, or enjoyed by its outward senses can be prevailed with to stay with it one hour, or to take one step with it in the voyage in which it is engaged. It must alone by itself launch into eternity. It is entering an invisible world, which it knows no more of than it has received by faith. None has come from the dead to inform us of the state of the other world. Indeed, God seems on purpose so to conceal it from us, that we should have no evidence of it, at least as unto the manner of things in it, but what is given unto faith by Divine Revelation. Hence those who died and were raised again from the dead, unto any continuance among men, as Lazarus, probably knew nothing of the invisible state. Their souls were preserved by the power of God in their being, but bound up as unto present operations. This made a great emperor cry out on the approach of death: "O poor, trembling, wandering soul; into what places of darkness and defilement are you going!"
How is it likely to be after the few moments which under the pangs of death we have to continue in this world? Is it an annihilation that lies at the door; is death the destruction of our whole being, so that after it we shall be no more? So some would have the state of things to be. Is it a state of subsistence in a wandering condition, up and down the world, under the influence of other more powerful spirits that rule in the air, visiting tombs and solitary places, and sometimes making appearances of themselves by the impressions of those more powerful spirits, as some imagine from the story concerning Samuel and the witch of Endor, and as it is commonly received in the papacy, out of a compliance with their imagination of purgatory? Or is it a state of universal misery and woe, a state incapable of comfort or joy? Let them pretend what they please, who can understand no comfort or joy in this life but what they receive by their senses; they can look for nothing else. And whatever be the state of this invisible world, the soul can undertake nothing of its own conduct after its departure from the body. It knows that it must be absolutely at the disposal of another.
Therefore no man can comfortably venture on and into this condition but in the exercise of that faith which enables him to resign and give up his departing soul into the hand of God, who alone is able to receive it, and to dispose it into a condition of rest and blessedness. So speaks the Apostle: "I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him, against that day."
Herein, as in all other graces, is our Lord Jesus Christ our great example. He resigned his departing Spirit into the hands of his Father, to be owned and preserved by him in its state of separation. "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit" (Luke 23:46); as did the Psalmist his type, in a like condition (Psalm 31:5). But the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ herein, the object and exercise of it, what he believed and trusted unto in this resignation of his Spirit into the hand of God, is at large expressed in the sixteenth Psalm. "I have," says he, "set the Lord always before me: because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved, therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoices, my flesh also shall rest in hope. For you will not leave my soul in hell, neither will you suffer your holy one to see corruption. You will show me the path of life; in your presence is fullness of joy, at your right hand there are pleasures forevermore." He left his soul in the hand of God, in full assurance that it should suffer no evil in its state of separation, but should be brought again with his body into a blessed resurrection, and eternal glory. So Stephen resigned his soul departing under violence into the hands of Christ himself. When he died, he said, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit."
This is the last victorious act of faith, wherein its conquest over its last enemy, death itself, does consist. Herein the soul says, in and unto itself: "You are now taking leave of time unto eternity; all things about you are departing as shadows, and will immediately disappear. The things which you are entering into are yet invisible; such as eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor will they enter into the heart of man fully to conceive. Now therefore with quietness and confidence give up yourself unto the sovereign power, grace, truth, and faithfulness of God, and you shall find assured rest and peace."
But Jesus Christ it is who does immediately receive the souls of them who believe in him. So we see in the instance of Stephen. And what can be a greater encouragement to resign them into his hands, than a daily contemplation of his Glory in his Person, his power, his exaltation, his office and grace? Who that believes in him, that belongs unto him, can fear to commit his departing spirit unto his love, power, and care? Even we also shall hereby in our dying moments see, by faith, heaven opened, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God, ready to receive us. This added unto the love which all believers have unto the Lord Jesus, which is enflamed by contemplation of his Glory, and their desires to be with him where he is, will strengthen and confirm our minds in the resignation of our departing souls into his hand.
Secondly, it is required in us unto the same end, that we be ready and willing to part with the flesh with which we are clothed, with all things that are useful and desirable thereunto. The alliance, the relation, the friendship, the union that are between the soul and the body, are the greatest, the nearest, the firmest that are or can be among mere created beings. There is nothing like it, nothing equal unto it. The union of three persons in the one single divine nature, and the union of two natures in one person of Christ, are infinite, ineffable, and exempted from all comparison. But among created beings, the union of these two essential parts of the same nature in one person is most excellent. Nor is any thing equal to it, or like it, found in any other creatures. Those who among them have most of life, have either no bodies, as angels; or no souls, but what perish with them, as all brute creatures below.
Angels being pure immaterial spirits have nothing in them, nothing belonging unto their essence, that can die. Beasts have nothing in them that can live when their bodies die. The soul of a beast cannot be preserved in a separate condition, no, not by an act of almighty power; for it is not; and that which is not cannot live. It is nothing but the body itself in an act of its material powers.
Only the nature of man in all the works of God is capable of this convulsion. The essential parts of it are separable by death, the one continuing to exist and act its especial powers in a separate state or condition. The powers of the whole entire nature acting in soul and body in conjunction, are all scattered and lost by death. But the powers of one essential part of the same nature, that is of the soul, are preserved after death in a more perfect acting and exercise than before. This is peculiar unto human nature, as a medium partaking of heaven and earth, of the perfection of angels above, and of the imperfection of the beasts below. Only there is this difference in these things: our participation of the heavenly spiritual perfections of the angelic nature is for eternity; our participation of the imperfections of the animate creatures here below is but for a season. For God has designed our bodies unto such a glorious refinement at the resurrection, as that they shall have no more alliance unto that brutish nature which perishes forever. For we shall be like unto angels, or equal to them. Our bodies shall no more be capable of those acts and operations which are now common to us with other living creatures here below.
This is the preeminence of the nature of man, as the wise man declares. For unto that objection of atheistical Epicureans, "As the one dies, so dies the other; they have all one breath, so that a man has no preeminence above a beast, and all go into one place, all are of the dust, and all turn to the dust again," he grants that as unto their bodies it is for a season, in them we have a present participation of their nature. But, says he, here lies the difference: "Who knows the spirit of a man that goes upward, and the spirit of a beast that goes downward unto the earth?" Unless we know this, unless we consider the different state of the spirit of men and beasts, we cannot be delivered from this atheism; but the thoughts hereof will set us at liberty from it. They die in like manner, and their bodies go equally to the dust for a season; but the beast has no spirit, no soul, but what dies with the body and goes to the dust. If they had, their bodies also must be raised again unto a conjunction with them. Otherwise death would produce a new race of creatures unto eternity. But man has an immortal soul, says he, a heavenly spirit, which when the body goes into the dust for a season, ascends to heaven (where the guilt of sin and the curse of the law interpose not), from which it is there to exist and to act all its native powers in a state of blessedness.
But as I said, by reason of this peculiar intimate union and relation between the soul and body, there is in the whole nature a fixed aversion from a dissolution. The soul and body are naturally and necessarily unwilling to fall into a state of separation, wherein the one shall cease to be what it was, and the other knows not clearly how it shall subsist. The body clasps about the soul, and the soul receives strange impressions from its embraces; the entire nature existing in the union of them both, being unalterably averse unto a dissolution.
Therefore, unless we can overcome this inclination, we can never die comfortably or cheerfully. We would indeed rather choose to be clothed upon, that mortality might be swallowed up of life, that the clothing of glory might come on our whole nature, soul and body, without dissolution. But if this may not be, yet then do believers so conquer this inclination by faith and views of the Glory of Christ, as to attain a desire of this dissolution. So the Apostle testifies of himself: "I have a desire to depart, and to be with Christ, which is far better than to abide here" (Philippians 1:23). Not an ordinary desire, not that which works in me now and then; but a constant habitual inclination working in earnest acts and desires. And what does he so desire? It is to depart, say we, out of this body, from this tabernacle, to leave it for a season. But it is such a departure as consists in the dissolution of the present state of his being, that it should not be what it is. But how is it possible that a man should attain such an inclination unto, such a readiness for, such a vehement desire of a dissolution? It is from a view by faith of Christ and his Glory, whence the soul is satisfied, that to be with him is incomparably better than in its present state and condition.
He therefore that would die comfortably must be able to say within himself and to himself: "Die then, you frail and sinful flesh; dust you are, and unto dust you shall return. I yield you up unto the righteous doom of the holy One. Yet therein also I give you into the hand of the great Refiner, who will hide you in your grave, and by your consumption purify you from all your corruption and disposition to evil. And otherwise this will not be. After a long sincere endeavor for the mortification of all sin, I find it will never be absolutely perfect, but by this reduction into the dust. You shall no more be a residence for the least remainder of sin unto eternity, nor any clog unto my soul in its actings on God. Rest therefore in hope; for God in his appointed season, when he shall have a desire unto the work of his hands, will call unto you, and you shall answer him out of the dust. Then shall he by an act of his almighty power, not only restore you unto your pristine glory, as at the first creation when you were the pure workmanship of his hands; but enrich and adorn you with inconceivable privileges and advantages. Be not then afraid; away with all reluctance, go into the dust, rest in hope, for you shall stand in your lot at the end of the days."
That which will enable us hereunto, in an eminent manner, is that view and consideration of the Glory of Christ which is the subject of the ensuing meditations. For he who is now possessed of all that glory underwent this dissolution of nature as truly and really as ever we shall do.
Thirdly, there is required hereunto a readiness to comply with the times and seasons wherein God would have us depart and leave this world. Many think they shall be willing to die when their time is come; but they have many reasons, as they suppose, to desire that it may not yet be, which for the most part arise merely from fear, and an aversion of death. Some desire to live that they may see more of that glorious work of God for his church, which they believe he will accomplish. So Moses prayed that he might not die in the wilderness, but go over Jordan and see the good land, and that goodly mountain, and Lebanon, the seat of the church, and of the worship of God; which yet God thought fitting to deny unto him. And this denial of the request of Moses, made on the highest consideration possible, is instructive unto all in the like case. Others may judge themselves to have some work to do in the world, wherein they suppose that the glory of God and good of the church is concerned, and therefore would be spared for a season. Paul knew not clearly whether it were not best for him to abide a while longer in the flesh on this account. And David often deprecates the present season of death, because of the work which he had to do for God in the world. Others rise no higher than their own private interests or concerns with respect unto their persons, their families, their relations, and goods in this world. They would see these things in a better or more settled condition before they die, and then they shall be most willing so to do. But it is the love of life that lies at the bottom of all these desires in men, which of itself will never forsake them. But no man can die cheerfully or comfortably who lives not in a constant resignation of the time and season of his death unto the will of God, as well as himself with respect unto death itself. Our times are in his hand, at his sovereign disposal, and his will in all things must be complied with. Without this resolution, without this resignation, no man can enjoy the least solid peace in this world.
Fourthly, as the times and seasons, so the ways and means of the approaches of death have especial trials, which unless we are prepared for them will keep us under bondage with the fear of death itself. Long wasting, wearing consumptions, burning fevers, strong pains of the stone, or the like, from within, or sword, fire, tortures, with shame and reproach from without, may be in the way of the access of death unto us. Some who have been wholly freed from all fears of death as a dissolution of nature, who have looked on it as amiable and desirable in itself, have yet had great exercise in their minds about these ways of its approach. They have earnestly desired that this peculiar bitterness of the cup might be taken away; to get above all perplexities on the account of these things, is part of our wisdom in dying daily. And we are to have always in readiness those graces and duties which are necessary thereunto. Such are a constant resignation of ourselves in all events unto the sovereign will, pleasure, and disposal of God. May he not do what he will with his own? Is it not right and fitting it should be so? Is not his will in all things infinitely holy, wise, just, and good? Does he not know what is best for us, and what conduces most unto his own glory? Does not he alone do so? So is it to live in the exercise of faith, that if God calls us unto any of those things which are peculiarly dreadful unto our natures, he will give us such supplies of spiritual strength and patience, as shall enable us to undergo them, if not with ease and joy, yet with peace and quietness beyond our expectation. Multitudes have had experience that those things which at a distance have had an aspect of overwhelming dread, have been far from unsupportable in their approach, when strength has been received from above to encounter with them. And moreover it is in this case required, that we be frequent and steady in comparing these things with those which are eternal, both as unto the misery from which we are freed, and that blessedness which is prepared for us. But I shall proceed no further with these particulars.
There is none of all the things we have insisted on, neither the resignation of a departing soul into the hand of God, nor a willingness to lay down this flesh in the dust, nor a readiness to comply with the will of God as to the times and seasons, or the way and manner of the approach of death, that can be attained unto, without a prospect of that glory that shall give us a new state far more excellent than what we here leave or depart from. This we cannot have, whatever we pretend, unless we have some present views of the Glory of Christ. An apprehension of the future manifestation of it in heaven will not relieve us, if here we know not what it is, and wherein it does consist; if we have not some previous discovery of it in this life. This is that which will make all things easy and pleasant unto us, even death itself, as it is a means to bring us unto its full enjoyment.
Other great and glorious advantages which may be obtained in the diligent discharge of the duty here proposed might be insisted on; but that the things themselves discoursed of will evidently discover and direct us unto the spring and reasons of them. Besides, weakness, weariness, and the near approaches of death do call me off from any further labor in this kind.
Christian Reader,
The purpose of the following discourse is to describe some part of the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ — glory revealed in Scripture and set before us as the chief object of our faith, love, delight, and wonder. But after our most diligent efforts, we must confess: how little of Him can we truly understand! His glory is beyond comprehension, and His praises cannot be fully expressed. An enlightened mind may grasp something of it, but what we can put into words is virtually nothing compared to what it actually is. Those who have abandoned Scripture as their only true guide — straining beyond what is written, trying to elevate their thinking through imagination and fancy rather than through biblical revelation — have only darkened understanding without knowledge, speaking things they do not comprehend, things with no spiritual substance to feed faith.
Even so, the real vision of Christ and His glory that we may have in this life by faith — however dim and partial that knowledge obtained through divine revelation may be — is beyond all comparison more valuable than any other wisdom, understanding, or knowledge. This is declared by one whose judgment on such things must be respected: 'Yes, indeed,' he says, 'I count all things as loss for the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.' Anyone who does not feel this way has no share in Him.
The revelation of Christ given in the blessed Gospel is far more excellent, more glorious, and far richer with rays of divine wisdom and goodness than the entire creation — more than the mind, even at its sharpest, could contain or produce. Without this knowledge, the human mind — no matter how proud it may be of its other discoveries and ideas — is wrapped in darkness and confusion.
This subject, then, deserves our most rigorous thinking, our best meditations, and our utmost diligence. If our future blessedness will consist in being where Christ is and beholding His glory, what better preparation for that could there be than a constant, ongoing contemplation of that glory as revealed in the Gospel — revealed precisely so that, by seeing it, we may be gradually transformed into that same glory?
I will offer no apology for publishing these meditations, which were first intended for the exercise of my own mind, and then for the building up of a private congregation — likely the last service of this kind I will render them. Some readers may, through these considerations, be prompted to attend to this duty with greater diligence than before and find guidance for how to carry it out. Others may be stirred to share their greater light and knowledge for the benefit of many. What I aim to do further in this discourse is to give a brief account of why this duty is necessary and useful, both in life and in death.
Specific motivations for diligently pursuing this duty will be presented in the discourse itself. Here I will note only a few general points. All people who are not consumed by sensual pleasures or overwhelmed by love for the world and present things — anyone with honest, serious thoughts about their own nature, existence, and purpose — are under the highest obligation to take up the contemplation of Christ and His glory. Without this, they will never find true rest or satisfaction in their own minds. He alone is the one in whom all humanity may glory and boast, on whom all human happiness depends.
First. He is the one in whom our nature — degraded as low as hell by its turning away from God — has been exalted above the entire creation. Our nature, as it was first made in our original parents, was crowned with honor and dignity. The image of God in which it was created, and the dominion over the lower world entrusted to it, made it a place of excellence, beauty, and glory. But all of this was stripped away at once by sin, leaving our nature face down in the dust from which it was taken. 'Dust you are, and to dust you shall return' was its just sentence. All of its inner faculties were invaded by deforming lusts — everything designed to make it unlike God, whose image it had lost. So it became despised by angels and dominated by Satan, who — being the enemy of all creation — found no place to reign except in the degraded nature of man. Nothing was more vile or base; its glory had completely departed. It had lost its unique closeness to God, which was its honor, and had fallen into the greatest distance from Him of any creature — the devils alone excepted — which was its shame and disgrace. And in that condition, as far as anything in itself was concerned, it was left to perish forever.
In this condition — lost, poor, degraded, yes, and cursed — the Lord Christ, the Son of God, found our nature. In infinite condescension and compassion, He set apart a portion of it for Himself, taking it to be His own in a holy and inexpressible union within His own Person. And in doing so, that same nature — crushed to the lowest point of misery — was exalted above all of God's creation. For in that very nature, God has seated Him at His own right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule, authority, power, dominion, and every name that is named — not only in this age, but also in the age to come. This is what the Psalmist celebrates with such great wonder in Psalm 8:3-8. This is the greatest privilege we hold among all our fellow creatures — this is something we may genuinely glory in and value. Those who devote this nature to serving sensual lusts and pleasures, who think that human happiness and the highest capacities of our nature consist in satisfying earthly and temporary desires, are content with it in its fallen state. But those who have received the light of faith and grace — and who therefore rightly understand the being and purpose of the nature they share — cannot help but rejoice that it has been delivered from its deepest degradation and raised to the glorious exaltation it has received in the Person of Christ. This must fill every thought of Him with refreshment to their souls. Let us guard our own lives well; the glory of our nature is safe in Him.
Second. In Him, our nature's relationship to God is secured forever. We were created in a covenant relationship with God. Our nature was related to Him in friendship, in likeness, and in His delight. But that bond of relationship and union was quickly broken by our turning away from Him. As a result, our whole nature came to stand at the farthest moral distance from God — in hostility toward Him — which is the very depth of misery. But in infinite wisdom and grace, God determined to restore it and draw it near to Himself again. And He would do it in such a way that a separation between Him and our nature could never happen again. Heaven and earth may pass away, but the union between God and our nature will never be dissolved. He accomplished this by taking our nature into a substantial union with Himself in the Person of the Son. By this, the fullness of the Godhead dwelt in it bodily, substantially, and eternally. By this, our nature's relationship to God is secured forever. Among all the profound excellencies connected to this, two continually present themselves for our consideration.
First. Our nature is capable of this glorious exaltation and existence in God. No creature could have conceived how God's omnipotent wisdom, power, and goodness could bring about such an effect. The mystery of it is a source of wonder to angels, and will be so for the entire church throughout all eternity. What is revealed in Scripture about the glory, manner, and means of this, I have set out in my Treatise concerning the Mystery of Godliness, or the Person of Christ. What mind can conceive, what tongue can express — who can sufficiently admire — the wisdom, goodness, and condescension of God in this! Since He has set before us this glorious object of faith and meditation, how worthless and foolish we are if we spend our thoughts on other things while neglecting it!
Second. This is also an inexpressible pledge of God's love toward our nature. Though He will not take any other instance of our nature — except that of the man Christ Jesus — into personal union with Himself, He has given in that one instance a glorious pledge of His love for and valuation of our nature. For He certainly did not take on the nature of angels, but He took on the offspring of Abraham. And this kindness extends to our persons as sharers in that nature. For He purposed this glory for the man Christ Jesus — that He might be the firstborn of the new creation — and that we might be conformed to Him according to our measure, and as members of that body of which He is the head, we share in this glory.
Third. He is the one in whom our nature has been carried — successfully and victoriously — through all the opposition it faces, including death itself. I will address the glory of this in its proper place later in this discourse, so I will pass over it here.
Fourth. He is the one who has shown in Himself that our nature is capable of inhabiting those blessed regions of light far above these visible heavens. Here we live in bodies of clay that are crushed as easily as a moth — bodies that cannot be raised so much as a foot above the earth we walk on. The luminaries we see in the sky appear too great and glorious for us to dwell alongside. We look like grasshoppers compared to those vast celestial bodies, and the places they inhabit seem as though they would instantly swallow up and extinguish our natures. How then can we conceive of being carried and lifted above them all, to exist forever in places incomparably more glorious than the spheres they occupy? What capacity does our nature have for such a dwelling? The Lord Christ has answered that question by pledging it in Himself. Our nature, in Him, has already passed through these visible heavens and been exalted far above them. Its eternal home is in the blessed regions of light and glory, and He has promised that where He is, we will be also — and that forever.
There are countless other encouragements to stir us up to diligence in the duty set before us here — the continual contemplation of the glory of Christ in His person, office, and grace. The principal ones I know of are presented in the following discourse. I will here add only the distinctive benefit we may gain from faithfully pursuing this duty: it will carry us cheerfully, comfortably, and victoriously through life and death, and through everything we must face in either.
Let it be noted that I assume here what is written on this subject in the following discourse, as something designed to prepare the reader's mind for making the most of it.
As for this present life, most who think seriously about these things know what it is like. Temptations, afflictions, changes, sorrows, dangers, fears, sickness, and pain fill up no small portion of it. On the other hand, all our earthly pleasures, comforts, and refreshments are uncertain, passing, and ultimately unsatisfying — all of them, in every form, made bitter by the remaining effects of sin. So everything we experience has sorrow and trouble at its root. Some people labor under poverty and hardship all their lives, and some have very few hours free from pain and illness. All of this is made worse at present by the difficult times in which our lot has fallen. Nearly everywhere, across all nations, things are filled with confusion, disorder, danger, distress, and trouble. Wars and rumors of wars abound, with signs of further judgments approaching — anguish among nations, perplexity, and people's hearts failing them with fear as they look at what is coming upon the earth. In many places there is no peace for those going out or coming in; great suffering plagues the inhabitants of the world. Nation destroys nation, and city destroys city, for God afflicts them with every kind of adversity. Meanwhile, outrage at the ungodly deeds of wicked men greatly adds to life's troubles. Many suffer for the sake of their conscience, and the divisions and hostilities that abound among all kinds of Christians make the situation even more deplorable.
The brevity, vanity, and misery of human life have been the subject of complaint from all kinds of thoughtful people — pagans as well as Christians — and it is not my present task to dwell on them. My inquiry is only about the relief we may find against all these evils, so that we do not collapse under them but instead win the victory over them.
The apostle states this in general in 2 Corinthians 4: 'We are hard pressed on every side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed, but not despairing; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed. But for this reason we do not lose heart, and though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day. For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison. While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.'
Looking by faith at things that are not seen — at spiritual and eternal realities — will relieve all our afflictions, make their burden lighter, and keep our souls from giving way under them. Of these unseen realities, the glory of Christ that we are discussing is the chief — and in a true sense encompasses all the others. For we behold the glory of God Himself in the face of Jesus Christ. Anyone who can at any time retreat in mind to the contemplation of this glory will be carried above the overwhelming sense of any of these troubles, or of all of them together.
It is a sad way to live when people scramble after small, perishable comforts in their distress. This contemplation is the universal remedy and cure — the only balm for all our sorrows. Whatever presses, burdens, or bewilders us — if we can only withdraw our minds to a view of this glory and reflect honestly on our own share in it, comfort and strength will be given to us. Wicked people in their distress — which sometimes overtakes even them — are like a restless, churning sea. Others grow discouraged and despondent, not without a quiet resentment toward the wise workings of divine providence, especially when they compare themselves to those they suppose are better off. And the best of us are prone to grow weary and faint when these troubles press unusually hard or drag on without any apparent relief. This contemplation is the stronghold to which such prisoners of hope must turn. In beholding the glory of Christ, they will find rest for their souls.
First. In pursuing this duty, it will become clear how slight and trivial all the things that cause our troubles and distress actually are. They all grow from the root of overvaluing temporal things. Unless we reach a settled conviction that all things here below are passing and perishing — affecting only the outer man, or the body (at most, even killing it) — that the best of them hold nothing truly substantial or lasting, and that we have a secure interest in things incomparably better and above them, we will inevitably spend our lives in fear, sorrow, and inner turmoil. One genuine sight of the glory of Christ, and of our own part in it, will give us full relief. What are all the things of this life — what is their good or evil — compared to a share in this transcendent glory? When we have a right understanding of it, when our minds are occupied with thoughts of it, when our affections reach out for its enjoyment — let pain, sickness, sorrow, fear, danger, and death say what they will — we will have at hand everything needed to face them and overcome them, on this ground: that they are all outward, temporary, and passing away, while our minds are fixed on things that are eternal and filled with incomprehensible glory.
Second. Trouble tends to throw the mind into disorder — tossing it about and agitating it with various feelings and passions. The Psalmist experienced this in his own distress, which is why he asked himself, 'Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you restless within me?' In truth, the mind is often its own greatest source of suffering. It tends to unleash passions of fear and sorrow that generate countless tormenting thoughts, until the mind is carried completely beyond its own control. But in this state, a proper contemplation of the glory of Christ will restore and calm the mind, settling it into a quiet, peaceful frame in which faith can say to the winds and waves of disordered passions, 'Peace, be still,' and they will obey.
Third. Contemplating Christ's glory is the way and means by which a sense of God's love is conveyed to our souls — and that alone is where we ultimately find rest in the midst of all life's troubles, as the apostle declares in Romans 5:2-5. It is the Spirit of God alone who communicates this sense of love to our souls; it is poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit. Even so, there are things we can do on our part to prepare and fit ourselves to receive these communications of divine love. Chief among these is the contemplation of the glory of Christ, and of God the Father in Him. This is the time and the means at which and by which the Holy Spirit gives believers a sense of God's love, leading them to rejoice with a joy inexpressible and full of glory. This will be made clear in the following discourse. This will lift the minds and hearts of believers above all the troubles of this life, and it is the supreme remedy that will drive out all the poison in those troubles — poison that would otherwise torment and enslave their souls.
I have only touched on these matters, intending to expand on what follows. This is the advantage we may gain from pursuing this duty, even with respect to death itself. Steadfast contemplation of the glory of Christ is what will carry us cheerfully and comfortably into death and through it. My principal work for a long season now has been to die daily, living in constant expectation of my own departure, and so I will take this opportunity to share with the reader a few of my thoughts and comforts with respect to death itself.
Several things are required of us if we are to face death cheerfully, steadfastly, and victoriously. For lack of these — or some of them — I have known godly souls who lived their whole lives in a kind of bondage through fear of death. We do not know how God will govern any of our minds and souls in that hour and that trial, for He acts toward us in all such things in a way of sovereignty. But these are what He requires of us as a matter of duty.
First. We are required to exercise specific acts of faith — committing and resigning our departing souls into the hand of the One who is able to receive them, keep and preserve them, and bring them into a state of rest and blessedness.
The soul is now parting from all things here below, and forever. Nothing it has seen, heard, or enjoyed through its outward senses can be persuaded to stay with it one hour or take one step alongside it on the journey it is about to make. It must launch alone into eternity. It is entering an invisible world of which it knows no more than it has received by faith. No one has come back from the dead to tell us what the other world is like. Indeed, God seems to have deliberately concealed it from us, so that we would have no evidence of it — at least as to the manner of things there — except what faith receives through divine revelation. This is why those who died and were raised back to life among people — like Lazarus — probably knew nothing of the invisible state. Their souls were kept in being by the power of God, but bound as to any present operations. This is what caused a great emperor to cry out as death approached: 'O poor, trembling, wandering soul — into what dark and defiled places are you going!'
What lies ahead after the few moments we have left in this world under the pangs of death? Is it annihilation — is death the destruction of our entire being, so that after it we simply cease to exist? Some would have it so. Is it a state of wandering existence, drifting through the world under the influence of more powerful spirits that rule in the air — haunting tombs and desolate places, sometimes appearing to the living through impressions made by those greater spirits? Some imagine this from the story of Samuel and the witch of Endor, and it is commonly accepted in the Roman church in connection with their idea of purgatory. Or is it a state of universal misery and suffering, incapable of any comfort or joy? Those who can understand no comfort or joy in this life apart from what their senses provide may expect nothing more. And whatever the state of this invisible world may be, the soul can take no charge of its own affairs after it leaves the body. It knows it will be entirely at the disposal of another.
Therefore, no one can enter this condition with real comfort except by exercising faith — faith that enables him to resign and give up his departing soul into the hand of God, who alone is able to receive it and bring it to rest and blessedness. As the apostle says: 'I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed, and I am convinced that He is able to guard what I have entrusted to Him until that day.'
In this, as in all other graces, our Lord Jesus Christ is our great example. He resigned His departing spirit into His Father's hands, to be held and preserved by Him in its state of separation. 'Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit' (Luke 23:46) — as the Psalmist, His type, did in a similar condition (Psalm 31:5). But the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ in this act — its object and exercise, what He believed and trusted in when He resigned His spirit into God's hand — is fully expressed in the sixteenth Psalm. 'I have set the Lord always before Me,' He says; 'because He is at My right hand, I will not be shaken. Therefore My heart is glad and My glory rejoices; My flesh also will rest in hope. For You will not abandon My soul to the realm of the dead, nor will You allow Your Holy One to undergo decay. You will make known to Me the path of life; in Your presence is fullness of joy; in Your right hand there are pleasures forever.' He left His soul in God's hand, fully assured that it would suffer no harm in its state of separation, but would be brought together with His body into a blessed resurrection and eternal glory. So Stephen, as he died under violence, resigned his departing soul into the hands of Christ Himself, saying, 'Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.'
This is faith's final victorious act — the one in which its conquest over its last enemy, death itself, is accomplished. In this act, the soul speaks to itself: 'You are now passing from time into eternity; everything around you is fading like shadows and will disappear at once. The things you are entering are still invisible — things no eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no human heart has fully conceived. Now therefore, with quiet confidence, give yourself over to the sovereign power, grace, truth, and faithfulness of God, and you will find certain rest and peace.'
It is Jesus Christ Himself who receives the souls of those who believe in Him — as we see in the case of Stephen. And what greater encouragement could there be to resign our souls into His hands than a daily contemplation of His glory — His person, His power, His exaltation, His office, and His grace? Who among those who believe in Him and belong to Him could fear to commit a departing spirit to His love, power, and care? Even we, in our dying moments, will by faith see heaven opened and Jesus standing at the right hand of God, ready to receive us. This, combined with the love all believers have for the Lord Jesus — a love inflamed by contemplating His glory — and their longing to be with Him where He is, will strengthen and confirm our minds as we resign our departing souls into His hand.
Second, it is required of us, toward the same end, that we be ready and willing to part with the body we are clothed in, along with everything connected to and cherished by it. The bond, the relationship, the friendship, the union between soul and body is the greatest, closest, and firmest found among all created beings. Nothing else is like it; nothing else equals it. The union of three persons in the one divine nature, and the union of two natures in one person in Christ, are infinite, inexpressible, and beyond all comparison. But among created beings, the union of these two essential parts of the same nature in one person is the most excellent. Nothing equal to it or like it is found in any other creature. Among other living things, those with the most life either have no bodies — as angels — or have no souls that survive death — as all animals below.
Angels, being pure immaterial spirits, have nothing in their essence that can die. Animals have nothing in them that can survive when their bodies die. The soul of an animal cannot be preserved in a separate state, even by an act of almighty power — because it simply does not exist as something separable. It is nothing more than the body itself in the operation of its material powers.
Only human nature, among all of God's works, is capable of this kind of separation. Its essential parts — soul and body — can be divided by death, with one continuing to exist and exercise its particular powers in a separate state. The powers of the whole united nature, operating in soul and body together, are scattered and lost by death. But the powers of one essential part of that same nature — the soul — are preserved after death in a more perfect operation than before. This is unique to human nature, which stands as a middle point between heaven and earth, sharing in the spiritual perfection of angels above and the imperfection of animals below. There is this difference, however: our participation in the heavenly, spiritual qualities of the angelic nature is for eternity, while our participation in the limitations of earthly animal life is only for a season. God has designed our bodies for such a glorious transformation at the resurrection that they will no longer share any resemblance to the animal nature that perishes forever. For we will be like the angels — equal to them. Our bodies will no longer be capable of the functions and operations that now we share with other living creatures on earth.
This is the unique dignity of human nature, as the wise man declares. Against the objection of atheistic Epicureans — 'As the one dies, so dies the other; they all have the same breath, so that a man has no advantage over a beast; all go to the same place; all came from dust, and all return to dust' — he concedes that as to their bodies, this is true for a time: in them we presently share in the nature of animal life. But here, he says, is the difference: 'Who knows whether the spirit of man ascends upward, and the spirit of the animal descends downward to the earth?' Unless we know this, unless we consider the different destiny of the spirits of men and of animals, we cannot escape this kind of atheism — but thinking clearly on this truth will set us free from it. They die in similar ways, and their bodies both return equally to the dust for a season. But the animal has no spirit, no soul, except one that dies with the body and goes to the dust. If animals did have such souls, their bodies too would need to be raised again to be reunited with them — otherwise death would produce a whole new class of creatures for eternity. But man, he says, has an immortal soul — a heavenly spirit — which, when the body returns to the dust for a season, ascends to heaven, where (when the guilt of sin and the curse of the law do not intervene) it exists and exercises all its native powers in a state of blessedness.
But as I said, because of this uniquely intimate union and relationship between soul and body, our entire nature has a deep instinctive resistance to dissolution. The soul and body are naturally and necessarily unwilling to enter a state of separation — the one ceasing to be what it was, the other not knowing clearly how it will subsist. The body clings to the soul, and the soul receives deep impressions from that embrace, so that the whole nature, existing in their union, is strongly averse to being pulled apart.
Therefore, unless we can overcome this natural reluctance, we can never die comfortably or cheerfully. We would certainly prefer to be clothed upon — to have mortality swallowed up by life, to receive the garment of glory over our whole nature, soul and body, without dissolution. But if that cannot be, believers can so overcome this reluctance through faith and views of the glory of Christ that they actually arrive at a desire for this departure. So the apostle testifies of himself: 'I have a desire to depart and be with Christ, for that is very much better' (Philippians 1:23). Not an occasional wish, not something that stirs in him from time to time, but a constant, habitual longing that expresses itself in earnest desire. And what exactly does he desire? It is to depart, we say — to leave this body, to leave this tent for a time. But it is the kind of departure that involves the dissolution of his present state of being, so that it will no longer be what it is. How can a person arrive at such a readiness for, such a yearning toward, such an intense desire of dissolution? It comes from seeing Christ and His glory by faith — a vision that so satisfies the soul that it is convinced being with Him is incomparably better than its present state and condition.
Someone who wants to die comfortably must be able to say to himself: 'Die then, you frail and sinful flesh; dust you are, and to dust you shall return. I give you up to the just sentence of the Holy One. Yet in doing so I am also placing you in the hands of the great Refiner, who will hide you in your grave, and through your decay purify you from all your corruption and tendency toward evil. There is no other way. After a long and sincere effort to put sin to death, I find it will never be completely done away with except by this return to the dust. You shall no longer be a dwelling for even the smallest remnant of sin throughout eternity, nor any hindrance to my soul in its communion with God. Rest therefore in hope; for God in His appointed time, when He desires to reclaim the work of His hands, will call to you, and you shall answer Him out of the dust. Then by an act of His almighty power He will not only restore you to your original glory — as at the first creation when you were the pure work of His hands — but enrich and adorn you with privileges and advantages beyond all imagination. Do not be afraid; away with all reluctance — go into the dust, rest in hope, for you shall stand in your place at the end of the days.'
What will enable us to do this in an outstanding way is the view and consideration of the glory of Christ that is the subject of the following meditations. For He who now possesses all that glory underwent this very dissolution of nature just as truly and really as we ever will.
Third, there is required of us a readiness to accept the times and seasons in which God would have us depart and leave this world. Many people think they will be willing to die when their time comes, but they have many reasons — as they suppose — for wanting it not to be yet, most of which arise simply from fear and an aversion to death. Some desire to live so they may see more of that glorious work of God for His church that they believe He will accomplish. So Moses prayed that he might not die in the wilderness, but cross over the Jordan and see the good land, that goodly mountain, and Lebanon — the seat of the church and the worship of God — a request that God thought fit to deny him. And God's denial of Moses' prayer, made on the highest possible grounds, is a lesson to all who find themselves in a similar position. Others may judge that they still have work to do in the world that concerns the glory of God and the good of the church, and so they wish to be spared a little longer. Paul himself was uncertain whether it might not be better for him to remain in the flesh a while longer for this reason. And David often pleaded against the prospect of immediate death because of the work he still had to do for God in the world. Others rise no higher than their own private interests — concerns about their persons, their families, their relationships, and their possessions in this world. They would like to see these things in a better or more settled state before they die, and then they will be more willing to go. But the love of life lies at the root of all these desires, and by itself it will never let go of them. No one can die cheerfully or comfortably who does not live in a constant surrender of the time and season of his death to God's will — just as much as he surrenders himself with respect to death itself. Our times are in His hand, at His sovereign disposal, and His will in all things must be accepted. Without this resolve, without this surrender, no one can enjoy even the smallest measure of solid peace in this world.
Fourth, just as the times and seasons of death present their own trials, so do the particular ways and circumstances through which death approaches — trials that will keep us in bondage to the fear of death itself unless we are prepared for them. Long, wasting illnesses; burning fevers; severe pain from kidney stones or the like from within — or sword, fire, torture, shame, and reproach from without — may attend death's approach. Some who have been entirely freed from fear of death as a dissolution of nature, and who have even seen it as something welcome and desirable in itself, have still struggled greatly in their minds about these specific ways it might come. They have earnestly wished that this particular bitterness of the cup might be taken away. Learning to rise above all anxiety about such things is part of the wisdom we gain from dying daily. We must always have ready those graces and practices that are needed for this. Chief among them is a constant surrender of ourselves — in every situation — to the sovereign will, pleasure, and disposal of God. May He not do as He wills with what is His own? Is it not right and fitting that He should? Is not His will in all things infinitely holy, wise, just, and good? Does He not know what is best for us, and what most advances His own glory? Does not He alone know this? So it is necessary to live in the exercise of faith, trusting that if God calls us to endure anything especially dreadful to our nature, He will supply such spiritual strength and patience as will enable us to bear it — if not with ease and joy, then at least with peace and calm beyond our expectation. Many have found that what seemed, from a distance, to be an overwhelming terror was far from unbearable when it came, as strength was received from above to meet it. And beyond this, it is required that we frequently and steadily compare these trials with things eternal — both the misery from which we are delivered and the blessedness prepared for us. But I will not pursue these particulars any further.
None of the things we have discussed can be attained without a view of the glory that will give us a new and far more excellent state than the one we are leaving. This includes resigning a departing soul into God's hand, willingness to lay down the flesh in the dust, and readiness to accept God's will concerning the time, season, and manner of death's approach — none of these are possible without a prospect of that future glory. We cannot have that prospect, whatever we may claim, unless we have some present sight of the glory of Christ. A vague notion of its future manifestation in heaven will not sustain us if we do not know what it is here and what it consists of — if we have no prior acquaintance with it in this life. This is what will make everything easy and even pleasant to us — including death itself — as the means that brings us to the full enjoyment of that glory.
Other great and glorious benefits that may be gained from diligently pursuing the duty set before us here could be discussed further, but the subject matter itself will make those benefits plain and point us to their source. Besides, weakness, weariness, and the near approach of death now call me away from any further labor of this kind.