74. ON SPIRITUAL VISION
It is a pleasant thing for the eye to behold the sun, and all the varied
objects which are illuminated by its rays. If the natural eye be such a
precious gift of providence, the eye of faith must be an invaluable gift of
grace. Through the weakness of the natural eye, distant objects are dimly
seen; but, by the eye of faith, we can pierce the veil which bounds our
sight, and view the unseen glories of the heavenly world.
Lord, impart unto your servant this spiritual vision, that I may daily
contemplate the wonders of eternity, and the blest abodes of heavenly purity
and joy.
When I look with an eye of faith towards heaven, what do I there behold? The
glorious habitation of Him who fills all space with his presence, who dwells
in the light which no man can approach unto. I there behold the throne of
grace and mercy, in the midst of which appears a Lamb slain, even Jesus, the
friend of sinners, the advocate of guilty man.
I there behold myriads of glorified spirits hymning the praises of Him, who
was, and is, and is to come. They appear as flames of fire, burning with
zeal and love. Their outstretched wings express their readiness to fulfill
the mandate of their God.
I there behold rivers of pleasures, mansions of bliss; yes, more than tongue
can speak or heart conceive. There dwells the great, the glorious God-Man,
Emanuel, God with us. Around him are assembled all his faithful ministers
and people; clothed in white, with palms of victory in their hands, singing
to their golden harps, the praises of redeeming love. To be ever near this
gracious Savior; to behold his glory; to experience the fullness of his
love; to enjoy his smiles; to be filled with his Spirit—is the heaven, the
felicity, the glory of the saints in light.
When from these high abodes I cast my eyes upon this earth on which I tread,
how wretched does it appear. The believer may at that very moment be
treading upon a scorpion, but he feels not its painful sting; some acute
disorder may be striking through every nerve, but his exalted views of
heavenly glory benumb the pain, and blunt the edge of suffering. Through the
power of his realizing faith, he is even more than conqueror. He can glory
in tribulation, and triumph in death. The world may frown, but it troubles
him not. It may smile, but he regards it not. His whole soul is full of
heaven, of Christ, and of eternal glory.
Oh you ever-blessed Spirit of grace and truth, impart this precious
faith—this realizing view of Jesus—this sweet foretaste of everlasting
bliss. Give me to know and feel my interest in his atoning blood. Make me
more active for Christ—more devoted to his cause—more attached to his
people—more alive to his honor—more simple in my dependence—more sincere in
my professions—more simple in all my aims to glorify my God and Savior.
When I look into the grave, what do I there behold? The dire effects of sin;
the vanity of all created things; the end of pomp and pride. But when, with
the eye of faith, I look beyond this cold and dreary mansion of the dead,
what awful scenes present themselves before me! There I behold the rich man,
who, when on earth, fared sumptuously every day, lifting up his eyes in
torment, without one cooling drop to quench his flaming tongue. And why does
he thus suffer? Because he trusted in his riches, and forgot his God.
The grave is the concluding scene of splendor and magnificence. There, the
now pampered body must become the food of worms! There, the body now arrayed
in purple and fine linen, must be covered with corruption!
Methinks this humiliating end of human greatness would convince the fondest
worldling of the vanity of earthly things. And surely it would impress the
mind, and deeply too, if men would but consider. Vain, thoughtless man! ah!
when will he be wise? The opening grave creates a slight alarm, when some
beloved object is laid within its cold embrace. But soon the transient tear
is wiped away, and every serious thought, like writing on the sand, is
rapidly effaced by the world's returning tide of business or of pleasure.
Lord, grant that it may not be so with me. Teach me so to number my days,
that I may apply my heart unto wisdom. Preserve me from the folly of
building the fabric of my hopes upon so mutable a foundation as human life.
Oh may I never boast of tomorrow, but labor to improve today. Oh may I seek
you now while you may be found, and call upon you while you are near; for
now is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation. May I learn wisdom
from the folly of others; and pray that they also may become wise unto
salvation. Remembering that the end of all things is at hand, may I be sober
and watch unto prayer. May I live in a constant preparation for a dying
hour, and find the last retiring moment the happiest of my life, being
brightened by faith in Jesus, and an assured hope of glory.
When I look around me in the world, what do I there behold? A scene of
complicated misery—an Aceldama, a field of blood; a huge hospital filled
with all manner of diseases; an asylum full of maniacs, fancying themselves
immortal in the region of mortality, and happy in a valley of tears.
I behold a multitude of faithful prophets, now blowing the brazen trumpet of
the law, and now the silver trumpet of the Gospel; each laboring to alarm or
to allure this miserable, this dying crowd. Some few, through grace, are
arrested in their mad career; their eyes begin to open, the scales drop off
they stand confused and amazed, they look around in terror, and cry
out—"What must we do to be saved?" Through grace, they behold the Savior;
through grace, they repent and believe; through grace, they love and obey
the Gospel. They now lament the dreadful situation of their poor companions,
and become themselves the objects of derision.
Lord, what is man! how astonishing your forbearance; how surpassing thought
your boundless grace and mercy!
Enable me to see the madness and folly of living at a distance from you.
Lead me from the ways and customs of the world. Fix my heart more
steadfastly upon heavenly joys; upon Christ, the fountain of bliss; upon
Christ, the hope of glory; upon Christ, your well-beloved; upon Christ, the
adoration of angels, the joy and portion of the church on earth, the bliss
and glory of the general assembly and church of the first-born in heaven.
In those blest regions of delight,
Where Jesus is unveiled to sight,
No mortal tongue can e'er express
The ransomed sinner's blessedness.
His joys are all alike unknown,
As seated on Emanuel's throne,
He drinks the living streams of bliss,
And views all heaven's joys as his.
Amazing grace! stupendous love!
Oh! may each warm affection move;
Until all my soul is knit to thee,
In time and through eternity.
You of all joy the center art;
Oh, never from my soul depart;
Blest Jesus! let your saving love,
Like dew, drop gently from above.
Blow on your garden, fairest one;
Oh, be my bliss, and you alone;
Let sweetest spices ever flow
To beautify your church below.