We are often, it may be, disposed to wonder at how little is said, in the New Testament, in reference to the state of the spirit, from the moment in which it leaves the body, until the morning of the resurrection. And yet, when we look more closely at it, we are struck with how much is said of it. True, there are but four passages which can properly be said to apply to that interesting interval; but oh! how much does any one of these four passages involve! If my reader will just turn with me, for a few moments, to the word, he will find this subject presented in its application to four distinct phases of the christian life. He will see the ransomed spirit passing into the presence of Christ from four distinct conditions. He will see one departing simply as a sinner saved by grace. He will see another making his exit as a martyr. He will hearken to the groanings of a burdened spirit desiring to be " absent from the body and present with the Lord." Finally, he will mark the earnest breathings of a laborer longing to be at rest forever in the Master's presence.
I. Our first reference shall be to Luke 23: "And one of the malefactors which were hanged railed on Him, saying, If thou be Christ, save thyself and us. But the other answering, rebuked him, saying, Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation? And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but this man hath done nothing amiss. And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom. And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, Today shalt thou be with me in Paradise." Ver. 36-43.
It is not my purpose, at present, to dwell upon this lovely passage, or to unfold, in detail, its rich evangelic teaching. I merely quote it in order that my reader may have the testimony of holy scripture fully and clearly before him.
We here see the case of one who entered Paradise in the simple character of a sinner saved by grace. He was a condemned malefactor, in the morning—a railing blasphemer, in the course of the day—a ransomed spirit in heaven, ere the day closed. " Today shalt thou be with me in Paradise." He had been led to cast himself on Christ, as a justly-condemned sinner, and he went to heaven with Christ as a blood-bought saint. He was not called to wear a martyr's crown. He was not permitted to bear any golden sheaves into the Master's garner. His was not a long and checkered christian course. But he was a sinner saved by grace. And, what is more, he was enabled by grace to bear testimony to the sinless humanity of our blessed Lord, at a moment when the great religious leaders of the people had given Him up to the secular power as a malefactor. And further, he was led to own Him as Lord, and speak of His coming kingdom, at a moment when, to mortal vision, not a trace of lordship or royalty was discernible. These were good works. To confess Christ, and flatly contradict a Christ-rejecting world, are works of the very first order—works that shed forth the sweetest perfume, and shine with the brightest luster. One of our own poets has beautifully and strikingly said, "Talk they of morals? Ο thou bleeding Lamb, The great morality is love to thee."
The dying thief exhibited this "great morality." He owned Christ when a hostile world had cast Him out, and when terror-stricken disciples had forsaken Him. " Lord, remember me," said he. "when thou comest into thy kingdom." Sweet were these words, as they fell upon the heart of the dying Savior; and sweeter still the response which fell upon the heart of the dying thief, " Today shalt thou be with me in paradise." This went far beyond the thief's expectations. The gracious Savior was about to do " exceeding abundantly, above all that" the thief " could ask or think." The thief asked to be remembered in the time of the kingdom. The Savior said, " I shall have you with me today" And, hence, when the Roman soldiers, in the discharge of their brutal functions, came to break the legs of this dying saint, he could smile and say, " Ah! these men are just coming to send me straight to heaven!"
Yes, my reader, the thief went to heaven to be with that very One who had hung beside him on the cursed tree, and spoken words of soothing power to his stricken heart. There was nothing dark, vague, or uncertain about this. The thief had never met such a friend as Jesus. No one had ever loved him like Jesus, or comforted his heart like Jesus. The grace of Jesus had poured a flood of heavenly light around that awful cross to which the thief was nailed for his crimes, and now he was going to heaven to be with that gracious One forever. This was a blessed reality. Heaven would be no strange place to him, seeing that Jesus was there.
" There no stranger-God shall meet thee—Stranger thou in courts above; He who to His rest shall greet thee, Greets thee with a well-known love."
It is happy to think of this. Heaven is much nearer, much more familiar, than we, at times, suppose. Moreover, it is the very home of that love which sheds its bright and blessed beams upon this dreary scene through which we are passing. To be with Jesus secures everything. To be in the company of the "one who loved me and gave himself for me " will make me feel quite at home in heaven. "We need not ask where is heaven? What kind of a place is it? What are its occupations? " With Jesus, "answers all these, and many more such like questions. Where the tender affections of a Father's heart flow forth in divine purity and never-varying strength—where the love of a Bridegroom glows with unabating intensity—where the fellowship of a Brother's heart, and the sympathy of a Friend are tasted in all their divine freshness and power, there is heaven, thither went the thief from his cross. " Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.'" Well may we say, " What must it be to be there?" True, the thief left his poor body behind him, until the bright morning of the resurrection, when it will be raised in incorruption, immortality, glory, and power. True it is that he, in company with all those who have fallen asleep in Jesus, waits for that happy moment. Yet it is equally true that Christ said unto him, " Today shalt thou be with me in Paradise." What a thought! To pass from the cross—the ignominious cross of a malefactor, into the paradise of God—from a scene of blasphemy, mockery, and cruelty, into the presence of Jesus. Such was the happy lot of the dying thief, not for any merit of his own, but simply through the precious sacrifice of Christ, who " entered in once into the holy place, by his own blood," and took the thief along with Him.
II. I shall now quote for my reader, the second passage in the New Testament, which bears upon our subject. It occurs in the Acts of the Apostles. "And they stoned Stephen, calling upon God, and saying, Lord Jesus, receive my spirit! And he kneeled down, and cried with a loud voice, Lord, lay not this sin to their charge. And when he had said this, he fell asleep." Chap. vii. 59, 60.
Here we have the case of a martyr—the very first of that "noble army" who have yielded up their lives for the name of Jesus. Stephen was not merely a sinner saved by grace, but also a sufferer for the cause of Christ—a sufferer even unto death. He passed from amid the stones of his murderers into the presence of his Lord, who had so recently gone before, and now stood ready to receive the spirit of His martyred servant. What an exchange! What a contrast! And be it observed that Stephen was favored with a very vivid view of the scene into which he was about to enter. " He being full of the Holy Ghost, looked up steadfastly into heaven, and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the right hand of God. And he said, Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God." Wondrous sight! Heaven would be no strange place to Stephen. "The Son of man" was there, so that he should feel quite at home there. He did not, like the thief, see Jesus hanging beside him; but he saw Him up in heaven before him. He did not, like the thief, see Him dying; but he saw Him risen and glorified—crowned with glory and honor, at the right hand of the Majesty in the heavens.
Thus, then, if the thief could think of heaven as the home of that blessed One who was nailed to the cross, Stephen could look at it as the home of that One who had gone before him into glory. It was the same heaven and the same Jesus to both the one and the other. It was no vague or far off region to either. It was the happy home of the crucified and glorified Jesus. The dying malefactor might look at it from one point of view, and the dying martyr might look at it from another; but it was the same attractive, happy home to both. True it is that the martyr as well as the malefactor had to leave his poor body behind him, to sleep in the dust until the morning of the resurrection. True it is that he, too, waits for that long-expected, blissful moment. Still his spirit has been with Jesus ever since. Yes; the malefactor and the martyr have both been up yonder with their Lord, for the last eighteen hundred years. What a happy eighteen hundred years it has been to them! Not a cloud, not a ripple, not a single interruption to their communion. Their condition is one of expectancy; but it is also one of perfect repose. No conflict, no sin, no sorrow, no change. All these things are over forever with them; so that, although they are not " more secure," they are far "more happy," than we. There is something peculiarly attractive in the thought of the unbroken repose which the spirit enjoys in the presence of the crucified and glorified Jesus. To be done with a world of sin, selfishness, and sorrow—done with the ceaseless tossings and heavings of a corrupt nature—done with the ten thousand snares and devices of a subtle foe, to be forever at rest in the bosom of Jesus! What deep unutterable blessedness! Well may the spirit long to taste it.
(To be continued.)