Not only did the Lord’s coming and kingdom occupy a prominent place in the preaching of Paul to the Thessalonians, it also shines brilliantly forth in all his teaching. Not only were they converted to this blessed hope; they were built up, established, and led on in it. They were taught to live in the brightness of it every hour of the day. It was not a dry, barren dogma, to be received and held as part of a powerless, worthless creed; it was a living reality, a mighty moral power in the soul a precious, purifying, sanctifying, elevating hope, detaching the heart completely from present things, and causing it to look out, moment by moment, for the return of our beloved Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, who loves us, and gave Himself for us.
It is interesting to notice that, in the two Epistles to the Thessalonians, there is far more allusion to the Lord’s coming than in all the other epistles put together. This is all the more remarkable, inasmuch as they were the very earliest of Paul’s epistles, and they were written to an assembly very young in the faith. The hope of the Lord’s return is introduced in every one of the eight chapters, and in connection with all sorts of subjects.
For example, in chapter 1 it is presented as the grand object to be ever kept before the Christian’s heart, let his position or his relationship be what it may-the brilliant light shining at the end of his long pilgrimage through this dark and toilsome world.
“Ye turned to God from idols, to serve the living and true God; and to wait for”-what?
The time of their death? No such thing, no allusion to such a thing. Death for the believer, is abolished, and is never presented as the object of his hope. For what, then, were the Thessalonian disciples taught to wait? “For God’s Son from heaven, whom He raised from the dead.”
And then mark the beauteous addition! “Jesus, which delivered us from the wrath to come.” This is the person for whom we are waiting; our precious Savior; our great Deliverer; the one who undertook our desperate case, who took, on our behalf, the cup of wrath, from the hand of infinite Justice, and exhausted it forever; who cleared the prospect of every cloud, so that we can gaze upward into heaven, and onward into eternity, and see nothing but the brightness and blessedness of His own love and glory, as our happy home throughout the everlasting ages.
O, beloved Christian reader, how blessed to be looking out, morning, noon, eventide, and midnight, for the coming of our gracious Deliverer! What a holy reality to be ever waiting for the return of our own loving and beloved Saviour and Lord! How separating and elevating, as we rise each morning to start on our daily course of duty—whatever that duty may be, whether the scrubbing of a floor, or the evangelizing of a continent—to cherish the bright and blessed hope that, ere the shades of evening gather round us, we may be summoned to ascend in the folds of the cloud of glory to meet our coming Lord!
Is this the mere dream of a wild fanatic or a visionary enthusiast? Nay, it is an imperishable truth, resting on the very same foundation that sustains the entire fabric of our most glorious Christianity.
It is not more true that our Lord Jesus Christ lay as a babe in the manger at Bethlehem; that He grew up to man’s estate; that He went about doing good; that He was nailed to the cross and laid in the tomb; that He is now seated on the throne of the majesty in the heavens, than that He will come again to receive His people to Himself. He may come at any moment.
The only thing that detains Him is His long-suffering, “not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance.” For nineteen long centuries He has waited, in lingering love, mercy, and compassion: and during all that time, salvation has been ready to be revealed, and God has been ready to judge; but He has waited, and He still waits, in long-suffering grace and patience.
(To be continued)