This is the time of the world's manhood. All its elements are putting on strength, and taking their full form. The civil and the ecclesiastical thing is asserting its manhood or full age. Vigor marks the progress of the Church of Rome, and of the commercial spirit; governments linking themselves with the one for their support, and the people imbibing and breathing the other for their advancement.
The world is thus stirring itself and playing the man. But Christ is still the rejected Christ, and faith has to own a weak cause in the presence of an advancing world, and of strengthened apostasies.
Thus is it, I judge, at this moment, and thus will it be. But judgment is to fall on the strong thing in the hour of its pride and vigor, and a glory (still hidden, but trusted and waited for) is to receive, to enshrine, and beautify, and gladden, that which now walks on as the despised and feeble companion of a rejected Lord.
All this may be serious to the thoughts of our natural hearts; but it is plain in the judgment of faith. It is the will of the Lord to let these apostasies grow up to manhood strength. The Revelation presents them to the eye in that form and condition, just when judgment overtakes them. The woman, or the ecclesiastical apostasy, is riding, just at the moment of her overthrow; and the beast is holding and managing the whole world, just as he is met in the day of the Lord. The Revelation in no wise shows us a weakened or depreciated condition of these great agents of the course of this world; but exhibits them in surpassing strength, and bloom, and honor, just at the end. We are not in the days of the Revelation, it is true, but we witness the energies (which play their part there in all this vigor and pride of manhood) getting themselves ready, and preparing to take their appointed place.
The heart of the children of men is not aware of the true character of all this. Progress is desirable, as they judge. Man in his social place is advanced; and all his welfare in the human system around, with its securities, and peace, and refinement, and morals, and religion, is served. But what is there of God in all this? Were Ito adopt the world's boast, and go on with its expectations, I should be strengthening my securities; but I should, with that, be losing my companionship with the heart and mind of Christ, which is our only true dignity this side the manifested glory of the kingdom. God gives all spiritual blessings now, peace, and joy, and liberty, with promise upon promise. But He is not re-gaining the earth to its circumstances for our enjoyment. Judgment must do that. Judgment is to make way for glory in the world, and peace on earth.
This tries our hearts. We cannot but feel that it does. All things are not now disposed by Christ, though He is in the place and title of all power and authority. He does not affect so to speak, to have all that the heart or nature values at His present disposal. His present kingdom does not actually reach so far, though in title His authority is over all things. He does not speak of making us happy in circumstances; and it is for us to count the cost of this. It is for us to acquaint ourselves with what He is dispensing, and then to ask ourselves, Can we value it? And it is faith only that values it. Nature cannot; the heart cannot. What Jesus now dispenses is exactly what faith, but what faith alone, can understand and appreciate.
May we lay this to heart; and, in the midst of all the alarms and forebodings of this serious solemn moment in the history of the world, say to our souls, The Lord is gathering out His elect, and leaving the great material around us for judgment-this is the way of His wisdom,. and it promises us no security in present things, but will work out, for faith and hope, all their brightest thoughts and expectations. _ _
Might we, in the real power of our souls, say with another-
"His wisdom ever waketh;
His sight is never dim;
He knows the path He taketh,
And I will walk with Him."
I call this "A Word in Season," not through presumption; but desiring that it should be found to be so, and believing that it is fitted to be so. The force of it is, alas! feebly felt in one's own soul.