SERMON XVII. THE FINAL HEAVEN. 2 PET. iii. 13. "NEVERTHELESS WE, ACCORDING TO HIS PROMISE, LOOK FOR NEW HEAVENS AND A NEW EARTH, WHEREIN DWELLETH RIGHTEOUSNESS." A Classic Poet,* describing the man of upright and steady purpose, says: "That were a crumbling world to burst around him, the fragments would strike him undismayed." But while we read our Text, this fiction becomes reality, the glowing imagination turns pale and faint before the stronger colours of very fact, the ideal is more than realised in living truth,—and we behold the Christian triumphing amidst the ruins of the universe! He has long awaited the catastrophe. It breaks upon him with no surprise. He looks forth with serene composedness upon it. It as much fulfils his desire as it agrees to his expectation. It is the consummation of his hopes and of his prayers. For this he has even longed. He knew that it must occur, and he has hailed it. But what a Scene is that which he anticipates and welcomes! The trumpet peals its most piercing clangour. Fire seizes upon all with its intensest fury. The mountains are heaped into cinders. The forests lie scathed in their blackened trunks. The seas evaporate. The works of men, their architecture, their defences, their monuments, are all consumed. The flame catches the skies. They burn. The orbs rush from their tracks. They kindle. Still the conflagration spreads, and every where finds fuel for its rage. It reaches to the largest masses and to the "Si fractus illabatur orbis Horat: Carm: lib. iii. 3. minutest atoms. The heavens can as little resist it as could the parchment scroll. The elements, the most latent particles, the most hidden essences, are fused and melt with fervent heat. The sun is turned into darkness,—the moon into blood, -the stars fall from heaven. Oh the crash of those jostling spheres! The roar of those devouring flames! The outburst of those disimprisoned thunders! Oh that furnace, that storm, that blast, of fire! What marvels of horror are here! What spectacles of awe crowd upon the sight! What could louden the great noise with which the heavens pass away? What could fan into wilder vehemence the fervours in which the elements dissolve? What could heighten the pomps of that great and terrible day of the Lord? That which is still more sublime than all material prodigies! Christian heroism and confidence! The untrembling, the unshaken, saint! Looking for it! Hastening to it! Then calmly surveying it! Not a hope made ashamed! Not afraid with any amazement! Collected in the remembrance, and firm in the assurance, of Divine Promise, he is seen gazing on the new heavens and the new earth which spread above, and which stretch around, him! From the awful pile of ruins, these newcreated regions instantly emerge in completest loveliness and glory! Out of the tremendous wreck of all, do the azure of those heavens and the beauty of that earth arise, impossible to all but omnipotence, unexpected to all but faith! There was but one Word between chaos and creation,-there need be but one between the sustentation, and the dissolution, of the universal frame,—there shall be but one between the last conflagration and those fair and refulgent abodes of existence, which are discovered, certified, and hailed, in these inspired words! And we are looking for these things! To this promise we hope to come! It is the bound of all further change! It is the goal of consummated bliss! Until that climax, there is always suspense. There awaits a future progress. The living must die. The dying are divided in the integrity of their personal being. The spirit departs into a residence, such as befits spiritual existThe body is laid in the grave. The spirit anticipates the resurrection of that body. The spirit desires a higher glory con ence. sequent upon that resurrection. All hitherto is in gradation and series. But beyond this new habitation of the righteous there is nothing to be expected. It is ultimate. Of this state we would now collect whatever information Scripture gives us. It is most interesting to catch every glimpse of what we shall be for ever, and of the sphere in which we shall for ever dwell. We suppose that these words relate to the fact of such a final heaven. But as they have been otherwise understood, it is proper that they be more critically considered. Now they most obviously point to a specific, recorded, Promise. It is directly contained in ancient Prophecy. "For, behold, I create new heavens and a new earth: and the former shall not be remembered, nor come into mind."* "The new heavens and the new earth, which I will make, shall remain before me."+ If these be splendid figures of speech, meaning simply the conversion of mankind to the true faith, we cannot but observe a great singularity in them. It is not for us to assert that they are too vast, for all material symbols, the greatest and most glorious, must be unworthy of such a spiritual transformation. The doubt would arise from the cast of the symbols. Two systems are brought together, the celestial and terrestrial, to denote that which is a holy effect produced in one only. To this doubt, however, it might be replied, that when Prophecy speaks of sublunary change, in the church or in the nations, this coupling, of heaven and earth, is not infrequent. "Yet once, it is a little while, and I will shake the heavens, and the earth, and the sea, and the dry land; And I will shake all nations, and the Desire of all nations shall come." The event to which this prediction pointed has come to pass. "Yet once more I shake not the earth only, but also heaven. And this word, Yet once more, signifieth the removing of those things that are shaken, as of things that are made, that those things which cannot be shaken may remain." The language may thus be paraphrased: 'I will cause great excitement in my Church among the Jews, which may be considered as a heaven in comparison of the great constitutions of men around it, for it is of heaven, while they are of the earth. The same impression shall seize upon them, until the universally hailed Messiah appear. Whatever is of a mere polity, a nationalism, a temporary import, in that Church, being inferior and perishable things such as human art and power produce, shall be removed,-while the truths it proclaims, the blessings it ensures, the excellences it enshrines, shall emerge from every revolution, tower above every shock, and endlessly endure as divine achievements in which man has neither part to act nor fame to share.' The utmost, however, that this use of the images would prove is, that they are preparatory prophecies to a more sublime fulfilment than that of which they themselves admit, taking the same phraseology in a subordinate sense and for a more special occasion, borrowing like morning - clouds the hues and beams of the yet unrisen sun. For we are informed of all the antecedents to the date of this "Promise." It is after "all these things shall be dissolved." It follows the great doom which impends over the present system. Once, ages since, "the world that then was, being overflowed with water, perished." It was the judgment of the Deluge. It was no difficult result, because, "by the word of God the heavens were of old, and the earth standing out of the water and in the water." This was its chaotic state. It was easy to reduce it to this. The immense aqueous mass, which had been divided and restrained, burst over it again. "The heavens and the earth which are now, by the same word are kept in store, reserved unto fire against the day of judgment and perdition of ungodly men." This is the judgment of the Conflagration. The immense body of hidden and electric fire can readily consume all above and beneath. The latent heat need only become active. Then is the coming of the Lord. It is the coming of the day of God. It is then, after this advent, this dissolution, this trial, that "we, according to the promise, look for new heavens and a new earth." If, therefore, other promises in which these terms occur allude to mystical change or ecclesiastical revolution, this must be distinct, for it is only effected at the conclusion of all mundane things, and “the new heavens and the new earth" must be as real as the old which are burnt up. To this interpretation agrees the Apocalyptic scene. "And I saw a new heaven and a new earth for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea." No constituent of the old system is left. All that which marked it, such as the great separation of land and water, has disappeared. This catastrophe has attended the erection of "the great white throne." From the face of Him that sat upon it, "the earth and the heaven fled away." "The sea has given up the dead which were in it: and death and hell have delivered up the dead which were in them and they have been judged every man according to their works." The new heaven and the new earth now unfold themselves.*-It may be objected that this directs our thoughts to earth. For it may be said, that John testifies that he saw "the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven,"-and that he heard a great voice out of heaven, saying, “Behold the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them." Does it not thus appear, it will be asked, that the vision is still of the present state? The Church descends out of heaven from God,-and his Tabernacle is with men. But from what heaven does the hovering spectacle stoop? Upon what earth does it light? "The first heaven and the first earth are passed away." "The former things are passed away.” It is from "the new heaven," that it dispreads itself over "the new earth." It is the type of the glorified Church, the glorious Church. The answer to every difficulty, we think, will now be felt complete. Every description which accompanies the progressive disclosure of the scene seems demonstrative that the everlasting glory of the saints can only be understood. "And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain." But among those descriptions a few have been thought incongruous with this view. "The kings of the earth do bring their glory and honour into it :" but this is only figurative of its royal grandeur,-that all which was resplendent in earthly state is surpassed by it." The gates shall not be shut at all by day:" but this is only an elegant expression of its secu Rev. xxi. 1, &c. Ꭰ Ꭰ |