I DON’T think there is a hell. By “hell” I mean a lake that burns with “fire unquenchable.” Neither do I think there is a real personal devil, or that any creature is incorrigibly bad and wicked.
I am writing this in a graveyard. I see around me tables of stone declaring that underneath this green sod lie multitudes of both sexes and of all ages, from the “infant of days” to the almost centenarian, mouldering into dust. Some of these were carried off suddenly from the midst of life’s busy bustle, others after a lingering illness.
I don’t think any of these people will ever rise again. I don’t think there is anything after death. I know that some other people do; but their thoughts must not regulate mine. I am not bound to think as they do, for my thoughts are just as sound as theirs. When they are able to speak with certainty, and to advance a few proofs, they shall find me listening with both ears. But their thoughts―no, they are just so much rubbish.
I used to think about these things. Sometimes I would think there might be a resurrection, a heaven, a hell. These thoughts would steal in upon me at night at the time when I should have been going off to sleep, when the day’s business was over, and when I was ALONE, and had time to THINK.
And then I was afraid to fall asleep lest I should die in the night, and wake up in hell. Strange I should have been troubled like that. It never seemed to occur to me that I might wake up in heaven. You see I somehow felt I deserved hell. And these thoughts would not be banished, but would come and fill my head like a colony of wasps, and crawl up and down over my poor burning brain, and sting, and sting, and sting, until I thought I should go mad. Then, again, I would think there was no hereafter, and this would give me a measure of relief, but there was no certainty.
I have got rid of this miserable piece of business altogether; and what is better, I have got rid of it forever. It will never return. I have not had one anxious thought of the kind for the last twenty years. It was a once-for-all perfect and everlasting cure of the whole malady, and for all these years there has been A GREAT CALM.
I don’t think and study and plague my brains one bit more about it. Where is the wisdom of thinking and puzzling over a thing at the bottom of which you know you never can get by all your labor?
I might think there was an island of considerable size right over the South Pole, and you might think there was a block of ice, and we might together argue the point warmly enough, but a wise man might say to both of us: “How do you intend to settle the dispute? Have either of you been there to see?” No. “Has any other person been who can come and tell you?” No. “Then you are a pair of fools for discussing a subject of which you know nothing.”
And so as to things outside the circle of the visible, I HAVE GIVEN UP MY THOUGHTS ABOUT THEM ALTOGETHER. Perhaps you will tell me I should have done this years before I did. I admit it, but I was unable to do this. You see, if it were now the hour of a moonless, starless midnight, I might be feeling about in the dark, and debating in my own mind which of these several paths led to the entrance of this graveyard, and I might find the one path leading so into the other, that I might almost despair of ever finding the way out; but if the sexton appeared upon the scene with a bright lamp, which let me see a door not twenty yards to my left, my fears and doubts and reasonings would fly to hide themselves like owls and bats from the light of day. Thus have my reasonings fled. I do not think the things are true. I do not. What then?
I KNOW THEY ARE. It is not that I hope they are, or feel they are, or fancy they are. I neither think nor reason one bit about it. I am as certain of the truth of these things as I am that this is a real graveyard, and that in spite of the pleasant odor and bloom and freshness of those lovely flowers, a little way below their tender roots death is reducing coffin and winding-sheet, bone and muscle, heart and brain to dust. I am as certain of the truth of those eternal things as I am of my own existence.
What gave me the certainty? Listen. GOD HAS SPOKEN. And the heavens and the earth shall pass away, but His word shall not pass away. “The word of our God shall stand forever” (Isa. 40:8). If He had not spoken, my thoughts were mere speculations of the human mind, biased by a strong desire to justify a life of sin. Such thoughts could only lead me astray. But seeing that God has spoken, I do not need them. The Son of God has come, who has told us the truth. I can now say, I KNOW. I have done with speculations.
I know there is a God of infinite holiness, truth, and goodness. I know there is a real, personal devil, and that he is both prince and god of this world. I know that he has been this since Cain laid the foundation of this world in the land of the vagabond (Nod), but by the rejection of Christ he has been publicly exposed as the world’s prince and god. I know that man is God’s enemy, and under the devil’s power, and that he is not awake to his condition. I know that God has displayed what was in His heart to man by sending His only begotten Son as Saviour of the world, so that the whole extent of the infinite love of God has been declared at, the cross; and I know that man displayed what the state of his heart was toward God by murdering that Saviour.
I know that, so far as man’s relations with God is concerned, every man naturally is an enemy to himself; his nearest acquaintance will use every effort to lead him astray; and the devil, his untiring enemy, works with restless energy his destruction. I know that the only Friend of man is the One he distrusts and dreads to have to do with; but “GOD IS FOR US.” I know that the wisdom of this world will lead a man to trust his own heart at all times, but that divine wisdom will lead a man to trust the heart of God; and I know that the day of judgment will demonstrate that every man who trusted his own heart was a fool.
I know that Jesus is risen from the dead; that God has found His perfect satisfaction in Him; and that He is seated on the right hand of God, all power in heaven and on earth being given to Him, and that He is going to judge the living and the dead. All must give account to Him.
I know that there shall be two resurrections, distinct both in time and character. The first a resurrection of life. All who have part in it are “BLESSED AND HOLY.” All believers are in this resurrection, and they come forth out of their graves GLORIFIED. These do not come into judgment. They reign over the earth with Christ for one thousand years. The last resurrection will be one of judgment. They stand before the great white throne when earth and heaven have fled away, after the thousand years, and for their sins are judged, and cast into the lake of fire. This is the second death, and this shall be no more annihilation than the first death was. Every one shall come out of his grave in response to the voice of Jesus.
I know that sin has terribly dishonored God on this earth, but that, through the death of Christ, He has been infinitely glorified. He has been no loser through sin, because He has been compensated by Christ; and because of this He is at liberty to send, in the name of Jesus, a free pardon to every sinner under heaven. This goes out in the gospel. “Through this Man is preached to you the forgiveness of sins, and by him all who believe are justified from all things.” I know that if my reader believes in that risen glorified Man, the Lord Jesus Christ, HE IS JUSTIFIED FROM ALL THINGS this moment.
I know that all will not believe; many will despise or neglect the salvation of God. All such will most certainly perish. They love their own ways, their own thoughts; they think themselves quite competent to judge God and His revelation. They are not content with it as it stands; they have pleasure in unrighteousness. Neither the love of God nor the terrors of His wrath can turn them from their own course. Neither Christ nor His precious blood is anything to them. Sin has more attraction for their wretched hearts than the love of Jesus. They will have a long eternity in which to regret their folly.
I know the Lord is coming very soon, and that when He rises up He will shut the door of grace; and if my reader has put of his soul’s salvation until that hour, he will be found among that company who stand without and cry, “Lord, Lord, open unto us.” And I tell you I know the answer He will return― “Depart from me! I never knew you!” I KNOW this―I DO.
I say again, I do not think it. I KNOW it. I am as certain of it, and have been for twenty years, as that I am sitting in this graveyard, and that the sun is shining in the heavens over my head. Before I heard His heavenly voice, it was all vain thoughts; since then it has been DIVINE CERTAINTY.
May the truth of God have place in the heart of the reader, that he also may have the certainty of these things. J. B―D.