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Chapter 11 of 49

0A.09. Chapter VIII.

21 min read · Chapter 11 of 49

Chapter VIII. Preserving Ourselves from Presumptuous Sins Renders Death Comfortable The preserving ourselves from presumptuous sins, a means to render death comfortable. The zealous discharge of the duties of our callings, and endeavors to glorify God, and do good according to our abilities, will sweeten the thoughts of death. An indifference of mind and affections to earthly things makes death less fearful.

Frequent converse with God in holy duties, makes death desirable. A steadfast belief of future happiness makes death desirable. An excitation to the saints to die with courage and cheerfulness.

It is our duty to die with resignation and with patience, and earnest desires to be with Christ.

It is very befitting a Christian to die with joy and thanksgiving.

II. The careful preserving ourselves from willful presumptuous sins, is a happy means to render death comfortable to us. Sins of ignorance and infirmity, of sudden eruption and surprise—the best men are not freed from in the present state; and being the daily motive of our grief, and serious circumspection to prevent them, are consistent with the regular peace of conscience, and the friendship and favor of God. But great sins in their matter being so contrary to natural conscience, and supernatural grace; or sins presumptuous in the manner of their commission, such as proceed from the choice of the perverse will against the enlightened mind, whatever the matter or kind of them may be, are direct rebellion against God, a despising of his command, and provoke his pure eyes, and make the aspect of death fearful. The Spirit seals our pardon and title to Heaven as the Holy Spirit; his testimony, that "we are the children of God, and heirs of glory," is concurrent with the renewed conscience, and distinguished from the ignorant presumptions, blind conjectures, and carnal security of the unholy. As the sanctifying Spirit, he distinguishes true Christians from the lost world, effectually brings them to God, confirms their present interest in the promises of the gospel, and their future hopes. Briefly, grace is the most sensible effect and sign of God’s special favor, the fruit of election, and the pledge of glory; and the truth of grace is most clearly and certainly made evident by the continual efficacy of it in the conduct. The observation of our hearts to suppress unholy affections, and of our senses to prevent them—a constant course of holiness in our lives (though many frailties will cleave to the best) is usually rewarded with great peace here.

God has established a connection between our obedience and his comforts. Those who keep themselves pure from the defilements of the world, have the white stone promised, the bright jewel of assurance of God’s pardoning and rewarding mercy. We read of Enoch, "that he walked with God," he was a star shining in a corrupt age; the tenor of his life was holy, and he was translated to Heaven without seeing death. Though this was an extraordinary miracle—yet there is a peculiar reward analogical to it; for those who walk circumspectly, they shall not see death with its terrors, but usually have a holy cheerfulness, a peaceful joy in their passage through the dark valley of death, to Heaven. But presumptuous sins against external and internal restraints, the convicting law of God, and the directions of conscience, (to which even the saints of God are liable here, as appears by David’s earnest prayer to be preserved from them)—such sins grieve the Holy Spirit and wound our spirits; and, if continued, sequester us from the comfortable privileges of the gospel, and render us unfit for the kingdom of Heaven. And when they are retracted by repentance—yet there often remains a bitter remembrance of them; as deep wounds, though cured—yet are felt in change of weather. And sometimes a surge of doubts and fears breaks into humble penitent souls, in the last hours; though death brings them safely—yet not comfortably to Heaven.

III. The zealous discharge of the duties of our place and calling, the conjunction of our resolutions and endeavors to glorify God; and do good according to our abilities and opportunities of service, sweetens the thoughts of death to us. For the true end and goal of life is the glory of God; and when with fidelity it is employed in order to it, death brings us to the blessed rest from our labors. Our Savior when he was to leave the world, addressed himself to his Father, "I have glorified you on earth, I have finished the work you gave me to do. And now, Father, glorify me with yourself, with the glory which I had with you before the world was." John 17. A Christian that imitates and honors Christ, and with diligence perseveres in well-doing, may with a humble confidence in the divine mercy expect the promised reward. The reflection upon a well spent life, is joined with a joyful prospect of God’s favor and acceptance above. But to the careless and remiss, to those who are willfully negligent of their duty, how fearful is death which summons them to give an account of their talents to the righteous Lord?

IV. A holy indifference of affection to present things, makes it easy to part with them, and death less fearful to us. David, though a king, declares he was a stranger on earth, not only with respect to his transient condition, but his inward disposition; and that he was "as a weaned child" from the admired vanities of the world.

Chrysostom in a letter to Ciriacus, who was tenderly sensible of his banishment, wrote to him, "you now begin to lament my banishment, but I have done so for a long time; for since I knew that Heaven was my country, I have esteemed the whole earth a place of exilement. Constantinople, from whence I am expelled, is as distant from paradise as the desert to which they send me." But when our affections are set upon external things, and we are irregular in our aims, intemperate in our use, and immoderate in our delights—then how sensible and cutting is the loss of them? How bitter is death that deprives a carnal wretch of all the materials of his frail felicity? What a storm of passions is raised, to lose all his good things at once! For it is a rule in nature, what is possessed with transporting joy, is lost with excessive sorrow. As the ivy that twines so closely about the tree, and is intimately fastened by so many roots as there are branches, cannot be plucked away without rending the bark with it; so when the world, that was as it were intertwined with the heart, is taken away, the heart itself is grievously rent by the violent separation. The unhappiness of carnal and worldly people is heavily aggravated, in that the guilt in procuring or abusing those treasures and delights that they leave here with so great sorrow—will cleave to them, and give testimony against them before their unerring Judge. But when the affections are loose to the world, and set upon Heaven, our leaving the earth is no loss but gain, and our separation from the body of flesh is with that alacrity, as the putting off a vile garment to be clothed with a royal robe!

It was the wise counsel of Tertullian to the women of the first ages of the church, not to value and love the jewels and ornaments of gold, that they might be more ready and resolved to obtain by death, martyrdom; and by martyrdom, eternal glory. And that we may disentangle our souls from those voluntary bands that fasten us to present things, we must have a sincere uncorrupted judgment of their vanity. The apostle exhorts Christians to moderation in their temper and conduct, with respect to the business and enjoyments here: "What I mean, brothers, is that the time is short. From now on those who have wives should live as if they had none; those who mourn, as if they did not; those who are happy, as if they were not; those who buy something, as if it were not theirs to keep; those who use the things of the world, as if not engrossed in them. For this world in its present form is passing away!" 1Co 7:29-31 To a wise and pondering observer, what comparison is there between shadows and dreams—and substantial everlasting blessedness? If men had the same opinion of this world while they live, as they will have when they are to die—they would not inordinately seek it. Those who have magnified temporal honors and riches, and lived in pleasures without remorse—yet in their dying hours, when men speak with most feeling and least affectation, how have they vilified those empty appearances of happiness! With what moving expressions have they declared the vanity and brevity of worldly things! As when the Israelites were to go through the river Jordan, which opened itself to make a free and dry passage for them; the lower part of its waters ran into the dead sea, and utterly failed, but the waters that came from above, rose up and appeared like a mountain. Jos 3:16.

Just so, when men come to the universal passage from this to the next life, inferior things absolutely fail, and are lost in the dead sea; but the things above, which are eternal, then appear in their true greatness, exceeding all human comprehension; from hence is the change of mind and language concerning the one and other.

V. Solemn, affectionate, and frequent converse with God in religious duties, will render death not fearful to us. The whole life of a Christian, as such, is a "continual communion with the Father, and with Jesus Christ." 1Jn 1:3. For he performs all good works by divine grace communicated "from above," and refers all to the divine honor. As in a compass, one end is fixed in the center, while the other moves in the circumference; so the heart of a Christian is in Heaven, his aims are for God, while he is active here in the world. His natural and civil actions are heightened to a supernatural end; and thus "his citizenship is in Heaven." But this was spoken of before; and that which is now specified, is the more immediate service of God in holy meditation, prayer, and the ordinances of the gospel, which is the noblest part of the spiritual life. Our blessed Savior while upon earth, always saw the face of God, and invariably sought his glory in all things—yet had his special times of prayer and heavenly communion with God, and the most glorious testimonies of his favor in those times. Just so, our communion with God here is as true as in Heaven, but the influence and fruition is different according to our capacity. When the soul feels the vigorous exercise of the thoughts and affections upon God, and the raised operations of grace in holy duties, it is as certain a sign of God’s favor and acceptance, as when fire descended from Heaven to consume the sacrifice. And often our affectionate duties are rewarded with sensible consolations, and holy souls are dismissed from the throne of grace, as they shall be received at the throne of glory—with the reviving testimonies of God’s approbation. Now the assurance of God’s love conquers the fear of death. This communion must be frequent. As love and respect between friends are maintained by constant visits and letters, and mutual confidence arises from acquaintance; so by the interchange of holy duties and divine favors, we preserve a lively sense of God’s love, and a humble familiarity with his majesty, that his presence is not a terror to us. A Christian who walks with God here, when he leaves the world, (to use the words of a dying saint) "changes his place, but not his company." God was always with him on earth, and he shall be ever with God in Heaven. But cold and seldom converse with God begets strangeness, and that makes us shy of God. When religious duties are performed as a complimental visit without zealous affections, or used only in times of affliction and exigency, as cordials in swooning fits—the divine presence is uncomfortable to us. Those who prefer carnal sweets before acquaintance with God, cannot with peace and joy think of appearing before him in judgment. O how unwelcome is death to such! "for then the Spirit returns to God who gave it."

VI. Let us strengthen our belief of the blessed state after death. Divine truths lose their influence and efficacy when they are not steadfastly believed. "Faith is the substance of things not seen, and the evidence or conviction of things hoped for." Heb 11:1. The Spirit confirms our faith, by convincing reason of the truth of the gospel. The life of Christ so glorious in holiness, his doctrine is so befitting the wisdom and other excellent attributes of the Deity; his miracles are so great, numerous, open, and beneficial—not merely to surprise the spectators with astonishment, but to touch their hearts; his death foretold by the prophets, and exactly agreeing in all the circumstances of the predictions; his resurrection the most noble operation of the divine power—are the strongest proofs that what he has revealed as the counsel of God for our redemption, and the preparations of glory for the saints in Heaven, are divine truths. And the efficacy of the Spirit of Christ in sanctifying his disciples in all ages, is a continual and as satisfying an argument that the gospel is derived from God the fountain of truth, as extraordinary miracles. For holiness is as inseparable a property of the divine nature as omnipotence, and the sanctification of the soul is as divine an effect as the resurrection of the body.

Now in the gospel God enters into covenant with obedient believers, "to be their God," a title and relation, that supposing them the most happy here, all the enjoyments of this world cannot fulfill. This covenant is not dissolved by death; and from hence it follows they are partakers of his glory and joys in the next life. For the honor of his veracity is most dear to him. The psalmist declares that he has "magnified his word above all his name." No perfections of his nature are more sacred and inviolable than his truth. The foundations of nature shall be overturned, and the most solid parts of the creation destroyed—but his promises shall be completely accomplished. We are assured by his infallible authority, that "there remains a rest for the people of God." And "he who receives this testimony, sets his seal that God is true;" honors the truth of God’s word, and binds himself more firmly to his service, and is encouraged to leave this poor world for that which is infinitely better. Our confidence and patience in well doing, and in suffering the utmost evil to nature, is from the pregnant apprehensions of the reality of eternal things. "We know," says the apostle, "if our earthly tabernacle be dissolved, we have a building not made with hands, eternal in the heavens!" 2Co 5:1. This fortified him against the terrors of death. When "Stephen saw the heavens open, and the Son of God ready to receive him," with what courage and constancy did he encounter the bloody rage of his murderers. Faith supplies the lack of vision, it pierces the clouds, opens a window in Heaven, sees the crowns of righteousness prepared for the saints, and sweetens the bitterest passage to it. But if our faith is weak and wavering, our courage will decline in the needful hour.

It is with Christians in their last passage from earth to Heaven, as with Peter walking upon the waters to Christ; while his faith was firm in Christ, he went upon the waves as on the firm land; but upon the rising of a storm his faith sunk into fear, and he sunk in the waters; until our Savior upon his earnest prayer, "Lord, save me!" took hold of him, and raised him with that compassionate reproof, "O you of little faith, wherefore did you doubt?"

VII. The last use is to excite the saints to die with that courage and cheerfulness "as befits the gospel of Christ." The encouragement of Joshua to the Israelites against the giants that terrified them from entering into the land of Canaan, the type of Heaven, "Do not be afraid of the people of the land, because we will swallow them up. Their protection is gone, but the LORD is with us. Do not be afraid of them." Num 14:9. That is, we shall obtain an easy conquest over them—is applicable to this purpose. Do not fear death—the enemy that interposes between us and the true Canaan; for our conflict shall be the means of our victory, and triumphant possession of the holy and blessed land above! This is very honorable to our Redeemer, and recommends godliness to the judgment, affections, and practice of others.

Basil tells of a custom to anoint the tops of doves wings with some fragrant liquor, that mixing in company with other doves, they might by the scent allure them to follow to the dove-houses. Thus when holy people live and die with peaceful joy, those who converse with them, are drawn by that fragrance of paradise to apply themselves to serious piety.

It is the apostle’s consolatory advice to believers, "not to be sorrowful for those that sleep in Jesus, as those who are without hope." 1Th 4:1-18. When Jacob saw his beloved son’s coat torn and stained with blood, he abandoned himself to desperate sorrow, and continued mourning for his death, when Joseph was advanced in authority and dignity next to Pharaoh in the kingdom of Egypt. Just so, when we see the garment of mortality torn by diseases, we mourn for departed saints, as if death had absolutely destroyed them—when their souls are reigning in glory! This immoderate sorrow is a heathenish passion, suitable to their ignorance of the future happy state, but very unfitting the plenary assurance the gospel affords us of it.

Indeed for the wicked to die with fears and palpitations of heart, to be surrounded with impendent horrors, when such a precipice and depth of misery is before them—is very just and reasonable; but for the saints to die uncomfortably under inordinate fears, is a disparagement to the "blessed hope" established upon "the revelation of life and immortality by the gospel."

Now in three things I shall propound the duty of dying Christians:

1. To submit to the divine pleasure with resigned hearts, as to the means, the manner, and time of death. God has a sovereign right and dominion over us. The present life is his most free favor, and he may justly recall it when he pleases. His will should be the first and last rule of our will. Whether he gently untwines the band of life, or violently breaks it—we must placidly without reluctance yield up ourselves. By whatever means death comes, all second causes are moved by an impression from above, in whatever age of life. All our times are appointed by the divine counsel; and a saint ought with that readiness and meek submission to receive it, as if he heard an express voice from Heaven calling him to God, and say in his heart with Samuel, "Here I am, you called me." This is the last act of our obedience, and very pleasing to God.

We read of the marvelous consent of Abraham and his son Isaac, the father to offer up his son, and the son his life, (that were both the gifts of God) in compliance with the divine command, and from Heaven he declared his high approbation of it. "This is to make a virtue of necessity, and turn nature into grace." But discontent and reluctance, as if our lives were our own, and taken from us unjustly or unseasonably—is rebellious unthankfulness, unfitting a creature, much more a true Christian, who exchanges a perishing life for that which is eternal!

2. To receive death not only with patience, but earnest desires to be with Christ. I know death is naturally unwelcome. Our Savior tells Peter, "when you are old, another shall bind you, and lead you where you would not want to go" John 21:18, signifying his martyrdom. The circumstance "when you are old" is remarkable, and intimates the natural unwillingness to die, when there was little time to live. But his rational sanctified will was superior and prevalent. The universal desire of the saints is to be happy in the presence of God; for the divine nature communicated to them is intelligent, and inclining towards its chief good; and if the obtaining it were not by "being unclothed, but clothed" by an immediate translation to Heaven—how willingly would they leave this world! But there is a bitterness in death that makes it unpleasant; and many holy souls that desire the glorious liberty in Heaven—yet are reluctant to leave their earthly prison.

Now there are so many arguments to make the saints desirous of dying, that methinks since life is chiefly valued and dear to them, as it is the way to Heaven—when they are come to that blessed end, it should not be longer desirable. What is this poor world that chains us so fast? It is the devil’s circuit wherein he ranges, seeking "whom he may devour;" it is the theater of contentions. The low aspire to rise; the exalted fear to fall; the poor envy the rich, and the rich despise the poor. This poor world is a foreign country to the saints, and as pilgrims and strangers, they are liable to reproaches, injuries, and hard dealings from the wicked, the natives of the earth. What is the present momentary life, that it so enamors us? It is surrounded with temptations, oppressed with fears, ardent with sinful desires, and continually spent in vanity or vexation. In adversity it is depressed and melancholy. In prosperity it is foolish and proud. It is a real infelicity under the deceitful appearance of felicity. But above all other motives, the evil of sin from which we cannot be clearly exempted here, should render death desirable. The best suffer internal fightings between "the law of the flesh, and the law of the mind;" as Rebecca felt the twins, Esau and Jacob, struggling in her womb.

How hard is it to be continually watching the heart, that corruptions do not break out; and the senses, that temptations do not break in? How difficult to order the affections—to raise what is drooping, and suppress what is rebellious? How many enemies of our salvation are lodged in our own bosoms? The falls of the saints give sad evidence of this. If the body were unspotted from the world, as in the creation of man, there might be a just plea of our unwillingness to part with it; but since the body is the inducement and instrument of sin, we should desire to depart, that we might be perfectly holy.

Death is the final remedy of all the temporal and spiritual evils to which we are liable here! And the love of Christ should make us willing to part with all the endearments of this life, nay desirous to enter into the celestial paradise, though we must pass under the angel’s sword, the stroke of death, to come into his glorious presence. He infinitely deserves our love, for we owe our salvation and eternal glory to the merit of his humiliation, and the power of his exaltation. With what earnest affections did Paul desire "to depart and to be with Christ?" Love gave wings of fire to his soul, ardent desires mounting to Heaven.

How valiant were the martyrs in expressing acts of love to Christ? How boldly did they encounter death, which interposed between them and the sight of his glory? Their love was hotter than the flames that consumed them! They as willingly left their bodies, as Elijah let fall his mantle to ascend to Heaven. And how does it upbraid the coldness of our love, that we are so contented to remain in this poor world, absent from our Savior. That the moles of the earth, who never saw the light of the sun, and feed on bitter roots, are pleased in their dark receptacles, is no wonder; but if birds that are refreshed with his cheerful beams, and feed on sweet fruits, should willingly be confined in caverns of the earth—it would be unnaturally strange.

Thus for Pagans (and those who are so in heart, though different in profession) who are so short-sighted and depraved, that they only perceive and enjoy present earthly trifles, for them to be unwilling to die is no wonder; for then all that is valuable and delightful to them is lost forever. But for those who are enlightened by the revelation of God so clearly concerning the state of glory, and have tasted the goodness of the Lord, and know the incomparable difference between the poor and frail life here, and the inestimable immutable felicity hereafter—for them to be unwilling to leave this world for that which is infinitely better, is astonishing!

Such was the love of our Savior, that his personal glory in Heaven did not fully content him, without the saints partaking of it with him, "Father, I will that those whom you have given me, be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory!" If our hearts do not answer to his, it is a sad indication that we have not a saving interest in him; for the application of his merits is always joined with the imitation of his virtues, and the reflection of his love. The lovers of Christ will join with the inflamed spouse, "Draw us, and we will run after you. O loosen our affections from this world, that we may readily ascend to you." They will renew the sighs of holy David in his banishment, "O when shall we come and appear before God!"

3. To die with thanksgiving and joy. It is usual to compare this life to a voyage. The Scripture is the chart that describes the coasts we must pass, and the rocks we must avoid. Faith is the compass that directs the course we must steer. Love is the rudder that governs the motion of the ship. Hope fills the sails. Now what passenger does not rejoice at the discovery of his country where his estate and heart is, and more at the near approach to the port where he is to land? Is not Heaven the country of the saints? Is not their birth from above, and their tendency to their eternal home? And is not the blessed bosom of Christ their port? O what joyful thanksgivings are due to God, when by his Spirit and providence, they have happily finished their voyage through such dangerous seas, and are coming into the land of the living!

How joyful was the coming of the dove with an olive branch to Noah, to show him the deluge was assuaged, and the time was come of his freedom from the troublesome company of animals, and from the straitness and darkness of the ark, to go forth and possess the world! How joyful should death be to a saint, that comes like the dove in the evening, to assure him the deluge of misery is ceased, and the time has come for his escape from the body, and his deliverance from the wretched sinful society here—and his possessing the divine world. Holy souls are immediately transported by the angels to Christ, and by him presented to his Father, without "spot or wrinkle," complete in holiness, and prepared for communion with him in glory! How joyfully are they received into Heaven by our Savior and the blessed spirits. They are the reward of his sufferings, the precious and dear purchase of his blood. The angels that rejoice at the conversion of a sinner—rejoice much more at the glorification of a saint. The "church of the first-born" who have before us entered into glory, have a new accession of joy, when their younger brethren arrive to the undefiled immortal inheritance. And is it not very befitting that believers joyfully to ascend to the seat of blessedness, to the happy society that inspires mutual joys forever? For our encouragement there are numerous instances of believers that have with peace and joy, though in various degrees, passed through the dark valley of death, to the inheritance of light. Some have died with more joy than they lived, and triumphed over the last enemy, death, with the vocal praises of God. Others with silent affections have quietly commended their spirits into his hand. Some have inward refreshings and support. Others have exuberant joys and ravishments, as if the light of glory shined into them, or the veil of flesh were drawn, and their spirits were present with the invisible world.

Some of the martyrs in their cruellest sufferings felt such impressions of confidence and alacrity, that as in the house of Lamech there were accorded at the same time two discordant callings by the two brothers; Jubal the inventor of the harp and organ, and Tubal-Cain the first artificer in brass and iron—the one practiced on instruments of music, breathing harmonious sounds and melodies; the other used hammers and anvils, making noise and tumult; so in some people, while the heaviest strokes fell on their bodies, their souls were ravished with the sweetest joy and exultation.

Indeed it is not always thus with the saints; for though sin is pardoned—yet the apprehensions of guilt may remain. When a stream is disturbed, it does not truly represent the object. Just so, when the affections are disordered, the mind does not judge aright of a Christian’s state. A serpent may hiss when it has lost its sting. Death may terrify when it cannot hurt us.

I doubt not but some excellent saints have been in anxieties to the last, until their fears were dispelled by the actual fruition of blessedness—just as the sun sometimes sets in dark clouds, and rises in a glorious horizon. We read our evidences for Heaven by the light of God’s countenance; his image is made visible in our souls by the illustration of his Spirit; and he exercises prerogative in the dispensation of his comforts. It is his pleasure to bestow extraordinary favors on some, and deny them to others who are as holy. But every penitent believer has just cause of joy in death; for Jesus Christ has reconciled God, destroyed Satan, and conquered death! The last day of his life, is the first day of his glory.

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