The Two Thrones

Narrator: Chris Genthree
Isaiah 6:1‑5; Revelation 20:11‑15  •  7 min. read  •  grade level: 5
Listen from:
We want the reader to turn aside with us, for a few moments, and look at two thrones which are presented on the page of inspiration; one in the sixth of Isaiah; and the other, in the twentieth of Revelation. We shall do little more than introduce them to his notice, in the very words of the inspired penman, and then leave him to muse upon those solemn realities, in the immediate presence of God.
1. “In the year that king Uzziah died, I saw also the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up, and his train filled the temple. Above it stood the seraphims: each one had six wings: with twain he covered his face, and with twain he covered his feet, and with twain he did fly. And one cried unto another, and said, Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory. And the posts of the door moved at the voice of him that cried, and the house was filled with smoke. Then said I, Woe is me! for I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts.”
Here, then, we have something peculiarly solemn. We have the throne of God, and the effect produced by that throne upon the heart of a man of like passions with ourselves. It is a serious thing to find oneself in the presence of God—to see ourselves in the light of His throne—to hearken to the sound of a voice that could move the very posts of the door. This, truly, is real work. All is laid bare here. Man sees himself in his true condition. He sees the deep moral roots of his being. He sees not only his acts, but his nature; not only what he has done, but what he is. He sees not only the negative but the positive; not only what he is not, but what he actually is.
Thus it was with Isaiah, when he got a view of himself in the light of the holiness of God. He discovered him-self. He found out what he was, and the tale was easily told—the confession was brief, pointed, and profound. “Woe is me! I am undone.” This was the sum of the matter. It took in everything. It was no mere lip profession—no formal statement of an unfelt truth that, “We are all sinners.” Ah! no; it was deep and thorough work. The depths were reached. The arrow had entered the soul. Isaiah saw himself, in the presence of the throne of God, an utterly undone man.
Now, reader, this is precisely the discovery which you must, sooner or later, make with respect to yourself. It is only a question of time. It may be days, months, or years, but the moment must come when you shall find out the truth as to your condition—when you shall discover that you, too, are “undone.” How dreadful to make this discovery when it is too late! —to find out that you are not only undone, but lost forever!—to be obliged to give utterance to those accents of deep and horrible despair, “ The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and I am not saved!”
But, mark, this need not be. The throne at which we are now gazing has a special feature attached to it—a peculiar fact connected with it. There is an altar near at hand. Thanks be to God for this precious, this consolatory fact! There is grace and salvation for the guilty and undone. The guilt which the light of the throne reveals, the grace of the altar removes. “Then flew one of the seraphims unto me, having a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with the tongs from off the altar; and he laid it upon my mouth and said, Lo, this hath touched thy lips, and thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sin purged.”
What grace shines in all this! What mercy in the fact that we can now have to do with a throne which has an altar attached to it—a throne of grace! The Lord be praised! Ob! reader, we beseech thee come now to this throne. Come just as thou art, all guilty and undone.
Remember that grace is enthroned. This is a most weighty, telling, powerful fact. Grace is triumphant. “It reigns through righteousness, unto eternal life, by Jesus Christ our Lord.” Rom. 5:21.
2. But we must turn to another throne of which we read in Rev. 20 “And I saw a great white throne, and him that sat on it, from whose face the earth and the heaven fled away; and there was found no place for them. And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; and the books were opened: and another book was opened, which is the book of life: and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works. And the sea gave up the dead which were in it; and death and hell delivered up the dead which were in them: and they were judged every man according to their works. And death and hell were cast into the lake of fire. This is the second death. And whosoever was not found Written in the book of life was cast into the lake of fire.” Verses 11-15.
This is a throne of judgment. No grace, no mercy here. We look in vain for an altar in the vicinity of this throne. There is no such thing to be found. It is a scene of un-mingled judgment. We have the claims of the throne—alas! alas! unanswered claims—without any of the provisions of the altar. “The books were opened”—those solemn records of the life and conduct of each. Yes, of each one in particular. There will be no such thing as escaping in the crowd—no getting off with mere generalities. The judgment will be intensely individual—awfully personal—“every man according to his works.”
Reader, mark the character of the judgment: “According to his works.” It is a fatal mistake to think that people will only be judged for rejecting the gospel. No doubt, the rejection of the gospel, wherever it has been heard, leaves people on the ground of judgment; but the judgment will be, in every case, according to a man’s, works. The inspired apostle, most distinctly, teaches us, in Eph. 5:3-6, and Col. 3:5, 6, that the wrath of God cometh upon the children of disobedience, on account of certain sins which he specifies. In short, it is perfectly plain, from scripture, that each one, “small and great,” will be judged according to his works. Solemn truth! Everyone who dies in his sins—dies unrepentant, unconverted, unbelieving, will have to give an account of all his deeds. All will stand out, in terrific array, on the tablets of memory and conscience—all seen in the light of that throne from which nothing is hidden, and from which none can escape.
How dreadful to stand before the throne of judgment I How many a “Woe is me!” will break forth from the countless myriads who shall stand before that throne! But there will be no altar there! No flying seraph! No live coal! No mercy! No provision of grace! What then? “The lake of fire!” It cannot be otherwise, if the judgment is to be “according to every man’s works.” Fire unquenchable, and the never dying worm, must be the consequence with all who stand before the great white throne of Rev. 20. Men may deny this. They may try to put it from them. They may reason about it. But all their reasoning, and all their philosophy, and all their learning, and all their criticism, can never shake the clear and solemn testimony of holy scripture. That testimony proves beyond all question, first, that those whose names are in the book of life, shall not come into judgment at all, because Christ was judged in their stead. And, secondly, that those whose names are not written in the book of life, shall be judged according to their works, and—appalling thought! —“cast into the lake of fire.”
Oh! beloved reader, flee, we beseech thee, from the wrath to come, and accept, now, God’s full salvation!