03 - The General Judgment
III. THE GENERAL JUDGMENT
"For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that each one may receive what is due him for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad." 2Co 5:10 The end of the world, with all the pomp and terror of its accompanying circumstances, has employed the most sublime efforts of the pencil and the pen. But when we regard it as an impending certainty — we cannot but own the expedience of realizing to our imagination, the events of that great assize.
Faith has been defined as the substance of things hoped for — the evidence of things not seen. Each act of the mind, therefore, which connects us with the invisible world — which transports us among things that are to be, and situations in which we must be placed hereafter — is a partial exercise of that faith, which embraces, when viewed in air its implications and consequences, the whole duty of man. The first circumstance meriting notice, as very greatly heightening the solemnness of the event we are about to contemplate — is the silent and unsuspected manner of its approach. Attempts have been made; by deciphering prophecy, to ascertain the period of time determined in the counsels of God for bringing this visible universe to an end — but these must needs be little better than conjectural: since, "of that day, and of that hour, knows no man, no, not the angels of Heaven, but the Father only." God has been judged sufficient to acquaint us, that that great day, "for which all other days were made," will come upon the world in a thunder-clap of surprise; when they are not thinking of it — when they are thinking of everything else; carrying on wars, ratifying treaties, forming alliances, planning public works, pulling down granaries and building larger ones. While the whole world is thus absorbed in occupations, which (when exclusively or mainly attended to) characterize a worldly mind — the Son of man will come upon it, with the unexpectedness of "a thief in the night." And as it was in the days of Noah, and in the days of Lot — they sold, they bought, they planted, they built — until sudden destruction came upon them unawares — even thus shall it be in the day of the Son of man. The day, whereon the sun, which had ruled and measured the days for so many generations — shall rise for the last time — in the portentous hue of blood, and shall afford no other warning to the then existing generation, that he will never more attire himself in his robe of radiance — or return unto the chambers of the east. In the depth, then, of this general slumber of souls — a loud and tremendous voice will suddenly be heard — sounding from one end of Heaven to the other, and going abroad to the uttermost parts of the earth; a voice striking terror to the race that shall be living, and penetrating the inmost cells and catacombs of death. "The end is come!" amidst thunderings it will cry, "Burst the bands of sleep, you tenants of the tomb — and you, you living ones, prepare for judgment."
Taking Scripture for our guide, let us suppose this scene arrived. Anathema maranatha. Let us behold its sights — and listen to its sounds. What a shout is that, which bursts the concave of Heaven? It is the Lord, descending with armies of angels — with a retinue of ten thousands of his saints! And behold! a mighty form — the herald of his approach, planting one foot on the trembling ocean, and another on the withering land — lifts his hand towards Heaven, and swears by Him who lives forever and ever, that time shall be no more!
Now nearer shines the descending glory — surpassing the Shechinah in its splendor — outstripping the comet in its speed — and beaming forth from the east unto the west! He comes, the faithful witness — the first-begotten of the dead — the prince of the kings of this earth. He is treading the air with buoyant step, and traveling upon a path-way of clouds. He comes, not now the lowly wanderer of Galilee — not the son of the carpenter, despised, rejected, buffeted — not the man of sorrows, who had nowhere to lay his head. Far otherwise. His countenance is as the sun — his eyes are as a flame of fire — his feet are as of brass, and burn like a furnace! His voice is as the rushing of many and of mighty waters.
He comes, and lo! his winnowing fan is in his hand; and he will thoroughly cleanse his garner. His arrowy lightnings play around him — while the foundations of the round world, are split apart at the blast of the breath of his displeasure. He comes, not now to suffer — but to rule — to receive homage — to reward, to punish, to destroy! The pomp of the victor, the majesty of the sovereign, the terrors of the judge — are combined to wipe away the ignominy of crucifixion — and to obliterate the dishonors of the tomb! Can we wonder, that an event so alarming and so important shall be accompanied by miraculous signs — by mighty and unheard-of prodigies? — that the vast globe of day shall sicken into darkness — that the fine silver on the shield of night shall be dimmed — that the stars shall shoot, and reel, and fall in showers from heaven — like a fig-tree scattering her figs, when shaken by a mighty wind? Can we wonder, that the unpoised world should stagger like a drunken man — -and that earthquakes should rend it to its center — that millions of bursting meteors should thwart each other in the troubled sky, and that while thus the powers and the pillars of the firmament shall be shaken, the hoarse vault shall roar as with the crash of an universe? Can we wonder, that the elements themselves shall be molten — that fire shall fuse the rocks, and lick up the hissing waters — and mingle the beauty of nature — the pride of art — the monuments of power — in one universal combustion and ruin? Can we wonder, that mountains and islands shall be removed; and that the heavens, starting back from the footsteps and face of their Lord, shall shrivel and pass away, like a parched and gathered scroll?
Subterranean thunders responding to the artillery of heaven — volumes of flame and smoke ascending from the heaving and the rocking ground — mighty lakes boiling like cauldrons of floating fire; and huge ignited masses rolling down into expanding chasms — do all proclaim, in horrible concert, that nature is at her last gasp, and that the day of the Lord — the great and terrible day — has come! But to proceed — the whole system of worldly affairs will now be stopped — those wheels of the vast machine of society, which had been going forward for so many centuries, will stand still. The living, aghast, seem bereft of life — the half-drained and steaming ocean casts forth its dead upon its shores — the soil of every grave is heaved away; mausoleums and tombs are overthrown — bone adjusts itself anew to its bone — and millions of shrowded forms arise. The lids of the urn and of the coffin are torn open — man is again fashioned out of the dust of the ground — the dead start to warmth, and animation, and motion, and come forth — those who have done good, unto the resurrection of life — and those who have done evil unto the resurrection of damnation! But what pulses of alarm will beat at the hearts — what feelings shake the frames of this vast reanimated multitude! Consternation! trembling! horror! despair! "Men’s hearts failing them for fear!" Where are the happy few, the unwearied, unswerving faithful, who will lift up their heads with confidence — who, from the tomb, will stretch forth their hands, unappalled — and cry, in humble hope, "Even so, Lord, come Lord Jesus — come quickly!"
Ah! will not rather the most righteous have their secret misgivings — will not apprehensions damp the best-founded expectations? Will not the purest hearts accord in the cry — "Who may abide the day of his coming!" But if judgment thus begun, "to be fearful at the house of God" — then what will be your foreboding, you children of disobedience? If the righteous can scarcely "hope to be saved" — then where — where shall you, the ungodly, and you, the sinful, appear? You will seek to glide back into the darkness of the tomb! Shrieking will you flee to dens, to coverts, to caverns of the earth, from the thunderbolts of pursuing vengeance! "Fall on us," you will cry to the crumbling mountains and to the blazing rocks — -fall, fall and hide us from the face of Him that sits on the throne — and from the wrath of the lamb — for the great day of his wrath has come!
Behold the Judge, now seated on his throne, which he has planted on the ashes of this world. On his right hand are ranged the brotherhood of the faithful — on his left, speechless, terrified, despairing — a guilty multitude, abiding their final doom. All around, and on high, behold myriads of the heavenly host — according to their degrees and virtues — their robes spotless as the light; their brows encircled with starry diadems — their countenances beaming pure love toward their destined companions — while beneath, at the flaming mouth of the unplummeted deep — the dark ministers of vengeance await, in sullen expectation, or in ferocious triumph, the mandate to seize upon their victims!
Remote systems, thus dispeopled of their inhabitants — and the congregated universe — a multitude which no man can number, standing in solemn stillness — in breathless attention, throughout their dense throngs and depth of unmeasured files — while there is thus a solemn pause in the anthems of praise, "a silence in Heaven for half an hour;" while the tangle of the firmament is hushed as in the sleep of midnight — an order is issued forth for the unsealing of the judgment-book.
"Then I saw a great white throne and him who was seated on it. Earth and sky fled from his presence, and there was no place for them. And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Another book was opened, which is the book of life. The dead were judged according to what they had done as recorded in the books. The sea gave up the dead that were in it, and death and Hades gave up the dead that were in them, and each person was judged according to what he had done!" Rev 20:11-13
"I am he," the Judge proclaims from his tribunal, "who has obtained redemption. Heirs of promise — children of the new covenant — stand forth and declare — how has each acquired a saving interest in this astonishing ransom.
Then, while some stand all mute with confusion — while others vainly plead excuses for their impenitence — -while many shrink appalled at the yawning of the dread abyss — even then, on the unbelieving, the profane, the deceitful — on the unjust, the unchaste, the idolaters of the present world — will the doom be pronounced; "I don’t know you — depart from Me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels!" To those, who have studied, though in much infirmity — to walk blameless in the ways of God — to those, who by faith and repentance, have laid hold on the cross of reconciliation — to those, who have, in life, looked upwards for spiritual support — the Savior will then address himself, "Come, you who are blessed by My Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world!"
We are acquainted by Paul, that these sentences being pronounced — the faithful will be caught up to meet the Lord on high, and so shall be ever with the Lord. And while the triumphant Savior is thus re-ascending to his Father’s house, with a pageantry, bright beneath the splendors of the opening heavens — while he is bearing, amidst his regal ensigns — the spoils of the vanquished, the arrows of death, and the keys of Hell — when he is conducting to the courts of light the first-born whom he has ransomed — how descriptive of his glory seems the prophecy of the Psalmist, "God is gone up with a shout — the Lord with the sound of a trumpet: sing praises to God; for He is king over all the earth — sing praises, for He is greatly exalted."
Inspiration even accompanies their progress to the confines of day, to the portals of the celestial palaces: "Lift up your heads — it sings — you everlasting gates — and the King of glory shall come in: Who is this King of glory? The Lord strong and mighty — the Lord mighty in battle."
Respecting the children of disobedience — we have the information of Scripture, that the Son of man will send forth his angels, who shall gather out of his kingdom all that work iniquity — and bind them hand and foot and cast them into outer darkness — darkness only illuminated by the glowing of a lurid furnace!
Gladly would I leave the picture incomplete. Gladly would I draw a veil over the horrors of that dismal scene; I would hide the malignant satisfaction with which demons of darkness will spring forth, and fasten upon the newly-condemned — and toss them with skewers head-long into the unfathomable pit — but I must not spare you a beneficial alarm.
O! the horror and the agony of that last parting look, which they will cast upon the firmament of light — and on the skirts of the Savior’s distant glory — and on the disappearing throng of the faithful, which contains many a kind relative and slighted adviser. O! the wild shriek, and the frantic struggle, and the unheeded cry for help — and the vainer cry for mercy.
O! that by expunging the picture — I could blot out the reality — of . . .
the bloated sensualist,
the remorseless oppressor,
the shameless adulteress,
the defrauder of the orphan,
a Dives, penitent too late,
a Judas, who had cut himself off from hope,
a Cain,
a Korah,
a Herod,
a Sapphira —
deprived of all room for repentance — plunging into one Hell, but carrying within their bosoms another, to which that Hell seems a Heaven!
Let it suffice to state, that all who here upon earth shall have worshiped the beast and his image, shall drink the undiluted wine of the wrath of God, which is poured out full strength into the cup of his indignation.
Suffice it, that all whom don’t have their name written in the book of life — shall be cast forth among the billows of a sea of fire, prepared for demons and impenitent mortals, and shall be there tormented day and night forever and ever, by that great Dragon — the old Serpent — the Devil — and his mustered hosts! For bound though he is with a ninefold chain, by that Son of the light — who has trampled on his neck, and tamed his writhing folds — and hurled him down, and all his apostate angels with him, from the hitherto endurable plains of earth, as of old from the happy realms and crystal battlements of Heaven — who has shut them up and secured them in the bottomless pit — and has fastened it with many bolts — and set a seal, which no man can break, upon its entrance — yet are this arch-deceiver and his subordinate demons are still left with their full power to punish. The gates of the dungeon and prison house, are now closed — they have grated on their ponderous hinges for the last time; they are closed, never more to be opened.
Solemn consideration! whatever are the sufferings which that unhappy multitude are gone to experience, whether torments of body, or pangs of soul — the word of truth declares, that their doom is irreversible — their condition unalterable; that there is no ray of hope, no suspension of pain — that the woe is without limits; and the full bowl of Divine fury is never to be exhausted. The inscription over the gate of Hell, devised by the great poet of that doleful region, is not less correct in reality than in imagination: "You who enter in, relinquish all hope!"
Having thus attempted, though with enfeebled pencil, to portray the circumstances of this solemn catastrophe — I shall hasten to conclude with offering a few suitable reflections.
1. With reference to the CERTAINTY of these events. There is an oracular voice of nature enshrined within every bosom — there is a hope in virtue, and a fear in guilt, which announce a judgment to come. Reason too, intimates, that in the end of time — the Almighty will vindicate his wisdom and goodness — by assigning to vice and virtue more equal retribution, than is usually awarded in this lower world. And this tribunal of righteousness seems further to be requisite, in order to rectify many errors in human opinion. The world judges of characters by external acts — and hence it frequently happens that the wicked man, who contrives merely to save appearances — and who can throw an imposing gloss over the blackness of his evil deeds, carries away the palm of public applause, "has truly his reward." While on the other hand, by an unfortunate combination of circumstances — connected with the avidity of men to grasp at occasions of detraction — the oppressed servant of God may sink under unmerited censure. Shall not he then, who revels in such ill-gotten tributes, dread a period of requital — when the arm of injustice shall be withered — when the tongue of deceit shall be silenced in shame? Shall not the drooping sufferer lift up his head, in the expectation of an hereafter — when his cause shall be made known, and his calumny removed; and his innocence brought forth, clear as the noon-day?
Again, there are certain vices, which, being fashionable, or linked with great talents, or blended with captivating accomplishments, or softened by courteous manners — experience too liberal an indulgence in the world. While for some individual fault, when in one fatal moment committed — the sincere penitent can find no pardon among men, no removal of the brand upon his forehead — though he seek it constantly and carefully with tears.
It might be presumed then, in reason, I say — that an equitable correction of these erroneous views and sentiments of men — in the presence of an assembled universe, enters into the scheme and economy of Divine Providence. But while conscience and reason declare the probability — Scripture proclaims the certainty of this solemn consummation. "It is appointed unto all men once to die — and after that the judgment." "Marvel not at this, for the hour approaches when all that are in the graves shall rise, and come forth, the good to life — and the wicked to destruction. For we must all stand before the judgment seat of Christ — that everyone may receive according to what he has done." Do not imagine, then, that you have been here contemplating . . .
a fictitious history,
an account to amuse the imagination,
a tale which has no place but in the imagination of the narrator,
a prophecy of allegorical or doubtful meaning, which may or may not be literally accomplished. Do not imagine that you have been anticipating an event buried in the womb of uncertainty — or a scene in which you will have no personal concern. Remember that Heaven and earth shall pass away — but that one jot or tittle of these things shall not pass away. Represent them then to meditation, now, as solid realities — in which each person shall bear a prominent part. Instead of being dismissed with indifference, let them impress every mind with the feelings (but more permanent) which they once produced in that of the Roman governor. "And as Paul reasoned of judgment to come — Felix trembled."
2. I now pass on to observe, in the second place — that though we cannot tell the day, nor the hour, nor the age — when our Master shall return to judgment — though the present generation passes away like all the preceding ones; though all things still continue as at the beginning — and the promise of the Savior’s coming remains unfulfilled for cycles and cycles of ages — yet the account now given of the great day of recompense — as coming suddenly, when men shall be singing the song of peace and safety — may be appropriated by every man to his own particular case; since the day of death — equally uncertain, will fix his final doom, and virtually prove the day of judgment unto Him.
"Be therefore patient: establish your hearts — for the coming of the Lord — the coming of death — draws near. Watch therefore — for you know not at what time the Master of the house (or the Monarch of the dead) shall come — at evening, or at midnight, or at the cock-crowing, or in the morning — lest, coming suddenly, he find you sleeping." To every one whom death awaits, to all may it be said, "the end of all things is at hand — be therefore sober, and watch unto prayer!"
3. Thirdly — let us learn, with reference to our brethren — to judge no man before his time — as befits those who possess only the criterion of appearances — until the Lord comes, who will both bring to light the hidden things of darkness — and make manifest the counsels and secrets of the heart — and then shall every man have his true measure of praise or condemnation before God; and the fire shall "try every man’s work." To sum up all — that the expectation of this great event may not prove, in our case, a certain fearful looking for of judgment, and of fiery indignation, which shall devour the adversaries — that we may have confidence and not be ashamed before our Lord at his coming, let us stand like men who wait for their Lord, looking in every moment of life for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God, and our Savior Jesus Christ.
I shall accordingly take leave of this important subject with the following passage, extracted from the second general epistle of Peter.
"But the day of the Lord will come like a thief. The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything in it will be laid bare. Since everything will be destroyed in this way, what kind of people ought you to be? You ought to live holy and godly lives as you look forward to the day of God and speed its coming. That day will bring about the destruction of the heavens by fire, and the elements will melt in the heat. But in keeping with his promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, the home of righteousness. So then, dear friends, since you are looking forward to this, make every effort to be found spotless, blameless and at peace with him!" 2Pe 3:10-14