The Glorious Epiphany with the Devout Christians Love, Chapter 15
CHAP. XV. Three Conſiderations more to draw our Affections to the Appearing of our Lord.
VIII.
I Have already ſaid ſo much of the Happineſs we expect, when our Lord ſhall come again, that here I might put an end to this Diſcourſe: if it would not be more profitable diſtinctly to conſider, that after we are caught up from this earth to meet the Lord in the air, and he hath done us honour in the ſight of all the world; we ſhall all (as I have already ſuggeſted) march with him unto Heaven, in goodly array, and comely order, with thoſe Crowns of Glory, which he hath given us, upon our heads. This ſhould mightily move us to love his Appearing; that we ſhall then appear together with him: and not abide in the Air, though incompaſſed with ſo much glory; but be carried up with him, far higher, into the pureſt sky.
When our minds are made all Light, we ſhall ſee a vaſt way before us; and behold the Palace where God himſelf dwells, inviting us unto it. Thither our Lord will have us attend upon him and accompany him; when he hath finiſhed the judgement of the great day. Where the Holy Books inform us we ſhall be ſumptuouſly treated; with no leſs kindneſs, magnificence and joy, than a King, we may conceive, would entertain his only Son, when he brought home his beloved Bride, whom he had long ago eſpouſed to himſelf: For whoſe reception he prepares the moſt Royal Supper, a glorious Marriage-Feaſt, to welcome her unto his houſe.
And will not this make every faithful ſoul, who is a holy member of that Body the Church, whom our Lord is pleaſed to own for his Bride, ſtill more deſirous, if not impatient, of the coming of the celeſtial Bridegroom; to perfect his love, and complete the promiſes wherein he ſtands ingaged, by the gracious covenant he made with us when he contracted us to himſelf? What is there that we all ſo much covet as the exceſs of joy, and the higheſt pitch of pleaſure? And where are theſe to be found in ſo much purity, in ſuch fulneſs, and ſo perpetual, as in his moſt bleſſed Preſence? Which ſhould force us to burſt out with the greateſt earneſtneſs, when we think of that Heavenly Feaſt which he hath prepared for us, into ſuch expreſſions as thoſe of David.
As the Hart panteth after the waterbrooks, ſo panteth my ſoul, after thee, O God. My ſoul thirſteth for God, even the living God; O when ſhall I come and appear before God? I have ſmall ſatiſfaction, alas! in theſe dull, and ſhort delights, which I find on earth. What taſte is there in this green traſh? And there is little other fruit that grows in the garden of this world, but what is ſowre and harſh, and ſets my teeth on edge. It is too far from thy beams, to bring forth any thing very ſweet. Nothing can be ripened at this diſtance from thee, to ſatisfie a font and yeild it all the contentment it deſires.
Bring me therefore into thy Paradiſe above, O conduct me into thy Eden, the Garden of thy delights. Lead me to thoſe fruits, which are brought to maturity by the conſtant preſence of the Sun of righteouſneſs. Let me feaſt on thoſe pleaſures, which are all pleaſure: and enter into the joy, which is fulneſs of joy for evermore.
And till thou thinkeſt me meet for ſuch entertainments; may it pleaſe thy love, but to give me ſome taſts of their incomparable ſweetneſs! May I reliſh no joys ſo much as thoſe! May I always have the remembrance of them freſh upon my ſoul! And may I be ſo happy as to be preſerved, by the ſavour of them, from the ſinful allurements of all other pleaſures!
Hence, hence all you beggerly delights, which would have me forget my happineſs. Stand aſide you Images of true joy, and hinder not my proſpect of that heavenly Paradiſe. Lend me your help, or elſe get you gone, and trouble me no more. Aſſiſt my benighted thoughts, and repreſent that bliſſful place to them; or elſe I deſire not your company. I have eaten of all your dainties; but ſtill am empty and void of ſatisfaction. I know what you have to ſay, the very utmoſt you can offer me; therefore follow me with no further importunities: For my heart is ſet on that fair, that delicious place, where the Great Lord keeps his Court, and entertains his Friends with endleſs pleaſures.
O holy City of God, what glorious things are ſpoken of thee! How free, how ſprightly, and how full of joy, are all thy happy Inhabitants! What heart is there, that is ſo dull as not to long to dwell in that bleſſed place; where every head wears a Crown of Life, and every hand carries a Palm of Victory? Where every eye overflows with joy, and every tongue with Pſalms of praiſe? Where light ſhines in every face; and love ſmiles in every Countenance? Where every heart is perfectly ſatisfied, in the fulneſs of its own bliſs: and ſatisfied again with the pleaſure it hath, to ſee the felicity of others?
It is too much trouble to me that I am not there; O let me not loſe the thought of it too! I ſigh to think that I ſtand at ſuch a diſtance from my Fathers Houſe; and ſhall I ſuffer a further remove, by turning away my eyes from thence? Go, O my ſoul, go thither in thy thoughts and daily meditations. Send a thouſand wiſhes before thee thither; to tell thy Lord that thou art coming to him.
Say, whom have I in Heaven but thee; who wenteſt thither to open it to all thy faithful Followers? What have I on Earth, but my hope by following thee, to arrive at laſt where thou art gone before me? Whither ſhould I look, but unto Heaven; now that thou, my Deareſt Lord, art aſcended thither, to prepare a place for me? A place of reſt, and ſecure peace; a place of joy, and conſtant enjoyment; a place from whence I am loth my thoughts or my heart ſhould deſcend, to return to this poor earth again: for there they grow ſo dull, that it is hard to lift them up, to look to thee.
O keep them with thee, keep them with thee; thou King of Heaven! Settle and fix them there, where I my ſelf expect to be; where thou alſo expecteſt me; where they ſhall find eaſe for every grief, and joy in the midſt of the greateſt tribulation. O fix them unmoveably in this quiet place, this eternal Reſt. And when they muſt attend the affairs of this lower life, may they only look, not come, down to them; and ſtill remain and ſtay with thee.
IX.
And when theſe things ſhall be fulfilled, the Apoſtle tells us, in the place before named (1 Theſſ. iv. 17.) that we ſhall be ALWAYS WITH THE LORD: who paſſed his promiſe to his Diſciples a little before he left the world, that he would come again, and receive them to himſelf, that where he is, there they may be alſo, xiv. John 3. Of which promiſe he was ſo mindful after he went to Heaven, that he further informs St. Paul (who ſpake this, by the word of the Lord) that he will not part with us, when he hath conducted us to his Fathers houſe; but keep us ever with him there; in joys and pleaſures that never fade away.
A condition which we cannot but love and paſſionately long for, if we have any love for him or for our ſelves. For there are none of our enjoyments here, but muſt be frequently intermitted, and are too often interrupted: even the enjoyment of our bleſſed Lord himſelf, and the ſenſe he gives us of celeſtial things, we find, to our ſorrow, ſuffers this inconvenience. Neither are we diverted from them only by the troubles of this life, or the violence of other worldly temptations, which preſs too boldly and rudely upon us: but by the moſt neceſſary occaſions, and the moſt innocent fruitions; to which nature not only inclines us, but requires our frequent attendance.
Of how much of our time doth ſleep poſſeſs it ſelf, though we deſire never ſo earneſtly to continue awake? How little do we live in the account of reaſon; if we do but remember this Image of Death, which hath us ſo many hours, every night, in its arms? And yet beſides this, eating and drinking, journeys and viſits, the buſineſſes and cares of this life, which challenge ſome of our thoughts, devour, no body knows how great, a portion of every day. To ſay nothing of thoſe hours, when we are fit for little or nothing; but are forced to find, as we ſignificantly ſpeak, ſome paſtime for the entertainment of our wearied minds.
O bleſſed Jeſus, how few are the minutes, that theſe ſouls, incloſed in fleſh, can ſpend in thy company? Into what a little room are the thoughts of thee, and of thy unmeaſurable love, moſt wretchedly crowded? How ſoon are we weary, and how often are we forced away; when we have the greateſt mind to thy ſweet Society? O the cares that not only divert, but ſometimes oppreſs us! O the multitude of troubles which are wont to diſquiet us! the ſickneſſes and infirmities of our bodies, which indiſpoſe us! beſides the great weakneſs and feebleneſs of theſe ſpirits, which are not able long to bear thee company!
It is but a wiſh, I ſee, that I may always ſtay with thee. I feel my ſelf pulled away, and cannot keep my ſoul above, even when thou haſt lifted it up unto thee. And therefore I cannot but renew my deſires, that thou wouldeſt be pleaſed to haſten thy coming. That's the time I long to ſee, becauſe I would be ever with thee, and always behold thy face; and perpetually ſpeak of thee; and declare thy love without ceaſing, in the height of love and devotion to thee.
O what a change will that day make in me; when I ſhall be all Life, and ſee not ſo much as the image or ſhadow of death any more? When I ſhall neither ſlumber nor ſleep, much leſs be ſick, or grow old and dye; but always wake, and enjoy a perfect health, a vigorous youth, and immortal life? O the bleſſedneſs of that change, when I ſhall be hungry no more; nor have my head diſturbed with the fumes and clouds of food! When all my journeys will be at an end; and I ſhall never loſe nor leave the company I love! When I ſhall neither be croſt by others, nor vext with the violence of my own paſſions! When I ſhall be no more perplext with cares, nor dampt with fears; but dwell ſecure, in aſſured joys, for evermore!
Joys in the perfection of a glorified body; and of an exalted, inlarged ſpirit! Joys to find my ſelf in the company of thy Saints; and welcomed into the noble ſociety of Angels! Joy at the ſight of my deareſt Friends; the greateſt joys in thy preſence, and in the light of thy countenance; from whom I hope for all this joy!
O come, moſt bleſſed Saviour, that we may all be nothing but joy, and love, and peace, without any end. Come, and bring us to our beloved Reſt; and where can our ſouls find any reſt, but in thy boſom? Come that we may reſt from our labours; and where can we lay down our ſelves in perfect repoſe, but only in thy love? O come, and fill our hearts therewith; that we may hunger and thirſt no more. Come, that we may perfectly know what the new Wine of thy Kingdom is. Come, that we may deſire to feed on nothing elſe; but the ſweeteſt comforts, of ſeeing thy bleſſed face ſmileing on us. And that we may have no other buſineſs, nothing elſe to do, but to enjoy thee in all that we ſee: not ſo much imployment beſides, as to ſpend any time (as now we are forced to do) in wiſhing to enjoy thee.
X.
And yet there is ſtill a greater reaſon remaining, why we ſhould love our Lords appearing; becauſe we ſhall be brought by that to the very top and higheſt pitch of bliſs: which is to SEE GOD (Matth. v. 8.) and to SEE HIM AS HE IS, 1 John iij. 2. Not as the old Prophets ſaw him in viſions and dreams; nor as others ſaw him, in the Angels of his preſence: But — alas! who can tell what this ſight is? What tongue, unleſs touched, as the Apoſtles were, by the Holy-Ghoſt, can declare any thing of ſuch a bliſs? The day of Pentecoſt muſt return again, if we expect to have any language to expreſs, or thoughts to conceive the meaning of theſe words. We muſt intreat ſome Angel to come, and tell us, if he can, what it is to ſee God. Or rather we muſt confeſs, that, if he ſhould, we cannot underſtand ſuch celeſtial language. It is above our reach; and we do but babble, we do not ſpeak, when we adventure to diſcourſe of it.
Nay, when we depart this world, and ſhall be admitted into the bleſſed company above, we may not be able to comprehend much of it; if the opinion of many of the Ancient Fathers be true, that the Saints ſhall not enjoy that which is properly meant by the Viſion of God, till after the great day of our Lord. And therefore it will be our beſt way now, to do as the Painter did; who being to make a picture of Love, drew nothing on his Table but a Veil; which covered no body knew what under the ſhadow of it. Not ſo much to ſhow, as ſome have poorly conceived, that Love is blind; as to declare that it is an ineffable thing, a myſterious paſſion, not to be deſcribed by humane art. Such, I am ſure, is this Viſion of God; and ſuch is the love that it will beget. It is a ſecret never to be known, but by the enjoyment of it: A myſterie reſerved in the holy Place, to be beheld only by entring into it.
We have all a natural deſire indeed, to pry into this, as well as all other ſecrets. A ſtrong appetite we find within us, to be admitted into an intimate acquaintance with thoſe things, which are cloſely lockt up from us. We cannot chuſe but long to go within the Veil; and would fain have the curtain drawn aſide, that the glorious face of the Divine Majeſty may appear. But after all our ſearch and buſie enquiry, we are able to ſay no more at preſent but this;
O happy Darkneſs! O bleſſed, O moſt glorious obſcurity! For I do not know what elſe to call thee: How joyful is it to think, that thou art more than we can ask or think? What a pleaſure is it to know, that thou ſurpaſſeſt all that can now be known? How comfortable is it to believe that thou art hid from our eyes; only becauſe we are not capable to behold thy brightneſs?
Thou ſhameſt indeed hereby our ſmall underſtanding; but publiſheſt thine own moſt excellent Greatneſs. We are laid very low, when we hear thee ſpeaking thus, at preſent; but it lifts us up and highly exalts us, in our future hopes. We have no means to comprehend this gracious promiſe; nor know we what to think, when we read theſe words, you ſhall SEE GOD. We muſt confeſs our weakneſs, which is abſolutely puzled, with ſo few and ſo plain words. If we have any thing to boaſt of, it is only this advantageous ignorance. All that we have to glory in is; that (ſuch our hopes) we know not what to conceive of this dark (ſo we muſt now ſpeak) this unſeen and hidden brightneſs.
But this we know, becauſe thou, O God, haſt told us, that when this preſent darkneſs is done away, and we ſhall ſee thee as thou art, WE SHALL BE LIKE THEE. O moſt deſireable ſight, which will ſo happily transform us! O much wiſht for day; which will ſet us in ſuch a light, as will make us all bright and ſhining too! Shining in the light of the wiſdom of God; in the light of his Purity; and of his Bliſs and Immortality. In the light which makes the eyes of Angels ſhine ſo brightly; and which preſerves the youth of Saints. The light which no man can approach unto; till thou, O God, who art that Light, ſhalt finiſh our hope, and bring us to ſee thee face to face.
And may we not be confident of this alſo (though we know ſo little) that when thou, O bleſſed God, ſhalt cauſe thy Son to appear, and ſhalt ſhow thy ſelf unto us, the very firſt glimpſe of thy glory, at the greateſt diſtance from thee, will mightily attract our hearts unto thee? No arrow, ſure, flies more ſwiftly from the ſtrongeſt bow, no bullet can be ſent with greater violence from the bended force of ſteel, than our ſouls ſhall then move, or rather ſhoot themſelves towards thee; that they may know what it is to ſee thee, and that they may be like thee.
And till that joyful day ſhall come, ſhine thou, O bleſſed Light, perpetually in theſe eyes. Strike through all the clouds that incompaſs me round about; and by the bright hopes of thee, chaſe away all my gloomy thoughts, and put out the falſe luſtre of this deceitful world. Shed, O thou bleſſed light, thy glorious beams into this heart; and kindle there ſuch holy flames as may conſume all ſinful deſires, and purifie my ſoul as thou art pure. Let me burn continually with an ardent love of thee; till thy bright day appear. Till not only theſe walls of fleſh be pulled down, which intercept thee from me: but my ſpirit fly up in a lightſome body, that I may ſee thee.
That I may ſee thee, by whoſe power the Heavens and the Earth were made; thee by whoſe Wiſdom all things are governed; thee by whoſe infinite kindneſs mankind was redeemed. What a joy will it be to me to ſee thee, who didſt conduct me in my way; direct me at every turn; ſupport me in every ſtep; aſſiſt me in all the various paſſages of my life; ſecure me from innumerable temptations, preſerve me from as many dangers; and at laſt broughteſt me ſafe to ſee thee, and rejoyce with thee for ever.