John Newton's Letters
The city was pure gold
April, 1770
My friend,
Glorious things are spoken of the city of God, or (as I suppose) the
state of glory, in Rev. 21:10 onwards. The description is doubtless
mystical, and perhaps nothing short of a happy experience and participation,
will furnish an adequate exposition. One expression, in particular, has I
believe puzzled wiser heads than mine to explain: "The street of the city
was pure gold, as it were transparent glass." The construction likewise
in the Greek is difficult. Some render it, pure gold, as transparent as
glass. If our reading is right, we must understand it either of gold, pure,
bright, and perspicuous as the finest transparent glass (for all glass is
not transparent); or else as two distinct comparisons —as splendid and
durable as the purest gold, as clear and transparent as the finest glass.
In that happy world, the beauties and advantages which
here are divided and incompatible, will unite and agree. Our glass is
clear—but brittle; our gold is shining and solid—but it is opaque,
and reveals only a surface. And thus it is with our minds. The powers of the
imagination are lively and extensive—but transient and uncertain; the powers
of the understanding are more solid and regular—but at the same time more
slow and limited, and confined to the outside properties of the few objects
around us. But when we arrive within the veil, the perfections of the
glass and the gold will be combined, and the imperfections of
each will entirely cease. Then we shall know more than we can now
imagine! The glass will be all gold. And then we shall apprehend Truth
in its relations and consequences; not (as at present) by that tedious and
fallible process which we call Reasoning—but by a single glance of thought,
as the sight pierces in an instant through the largest transparent body. The
gold will be all glass.
I do not offer this as the sense of the passage—but as a
thought which once occurred to me while reading it. I daily groan under a
desultory, ungovernable imagination, and a palpable darkness of
understanding, which greatly impede me in my attempts to contemplate the
truths of God. Perhaps these complaints, in a greater or less degree, are
common to all our fallen race, and exhibit mournful proofs that our nature
is essentially depraved. The grace of God affords some assistance for
correcting the wildness of the imagination, and enlarging the
capacity of the mind; yet the cure at present is but palliative; but
before long it shall be perfect, and our complaints shall cease
forever. Now it costs us much pains to acquire a pittance of solid and
useful knowledge; and the ideas we have collected are far from being at the
disposal of judgment, and, like men in a crowd, are perpetually clashing and
interfering with each other. But it will not be so, when we are completely
freed from the effects of sin. Confusion and darkness
will not follow us into the world where light and order reign. Then, and not
until then, our knowledge will be perfect, and our possession of it
uninterrupted and secure.
Since the radical powers of the soul are thus enfeebled
and disordered, it is not to be wondered at that the best of men, and under
their highest attainments, have found cause to make the acknowledgment of
the Apostle, "When I would do good—evil is present with me!" But, blessed be
God, though we must feel hourly cause for shame and humiliation for what we
are in ourselves; we have cause to rejoice continually in Christ Jesus, who,
as he is revealed unto us under the various names, characters, relations,
and offices, which he bears in the Scripture, holds out to our faith a
balm for every wound, a cordial for every discouragement, and a
sufficient answer to every objection which sin or Satan can suggest
against our peace. If we are guilty—He is our Righteousness; if we are
sick—He is our infallible Physician; if we are weak, helpless, and
defenseless—He is the compassionate and faithful Shepherd who has taken
charge of us, and will not allow anything to disappoint our hopes of heaven,
or to separate us from his love. He knows our frame, he remembers that we
are but dust, and has engaged to guide us by his counsel, support
us by his power, and at length to receive us to his glory—that we
may be with him forever!