Heaven in Christian preaching represents the eternal home prepared by Christ for believers, embodying ultimate joy, peace, and the presence of God beyond earthly life (John 14:2-3). Illustrations often contrast transient earthly treasures with eternal heavenly rewards, portraying heaven as both a present spiritual reality and a future hope that inspires holy living and evangelism (Philippians 3:20).
True heaven is a joyful home, not just a place marked by sorrowful monuments.
A little girl was walking in the cemetery with her aunt. She was examining the various gravestones when suddenly she cried out, "Oh, auntie, look here! Here is the tomb of some poor person who has not gone to heaven." "Not gone to heaven?" replied the astonished aunt, looking at the elaborate monument with weeping angels sculptured in marble. "Why, what do you mean?" "Well, auntie," said the child, "the lady or gentleman in the grave cannot have gone to heaven, or the angels would not be crying!" Where Is Heaven?
One Sunday morning a faithful Sunday school teacher was teaching her class of boys about heaven. She asked the question, "Where is heaven?" And one happy boy replied, "It's in our home since my daddy became a Christian." No Place Like Home
How can we forget some of the final lines in The Wizard of Oz when Dorothy keeps saying, "There's no place like home, there's no place like home." Most of us feel the same way. Man has always felt a fondness for that dwelling called home.
Adam and Eve were grieved when they were cast out of the garden of Eden-their home. Noah and his family listened as the waters covered their homeland. Moses left his homeland to follow the will of God for his life. Jesus found that a prophet was not without honor, except at home. The prodigal son knew that even as a servant, home was better than the pigpen.
We rejoice today as we round the corner to "our home." Whether it be a cardboard box in an alley, or a fine air-conditioned bastion of comfort in the stifling heat, we are glad to get home.
As temporary as the structures on earth are, our home in heaven will be permanent. God challenges us to live daily in preparation for that great eternal home that He is preparing for His children. It will be untouched by the elements of nature, unscarred by strife, pure, clean, and holy, and yes-IT WILL LAST FOR ETERNITY!
Do you feel as good about the home God is preparing for you as the one that may be gone tomorrow? If we anticipate that home with joy, how wonderfully we will live our lives today! May God bless us unto that end. The Light
John Henry Jowett, prominent preacher of two or three generations ago, served as pastor of distinguished churches both in England and America. He used to tell of a stormy evening when he was entertained in the home of an English countryman. Sometime after nightfall, the hour came for him to leave, to catch his train back to the city. As he arose to go, his farmer host walked with him to the front gate. There the farmer gave him a lighted lantern, pointed to a light in the distance, and said, "Yonder light is Saddleworth Station; make for that. The lantern will keep you from falling into the ditch; but keep your eye on the glimmer in the distance."
In the daily walk of our life, sometimes in darkness or storm, we have to give a lot of attention to staying out of the ditch. We need to use the light, God's Word, to keep from falling in.
But there is something more. If we look carefully, in the distance we can see a glimmer. This is important; for the glimmer is the high goal, the object of the long quest, the Light that directs the course of our journey to heaven.
Friend, may you go from here today with a light for your next footsteps. But this alone is not enough: Never take your eyes off the glimmer that is in the distance.
Knowing the eternal destination in Christ is more important than earthly origins or status.
Matthew Henry wrote a famous Bible Commentary. As a poor and unknown young man he wished to marry a girl whose father was wealthy and who did not approve of the marriage. The father argued that, although he was a good scholar and an excellent preacher, "they did not even know where he came from." The daughter had a ready answer. "But father," she said, "we know where he is going, and I want to go with him." The father acquiesced. A Beautiful Christmas Evening
It was Christmas Eve. Six-year-old Mary Lou was walking down a dark city street with her father on their way to the children's service.
Her active little mind was filled with the wonders of the event she and her classmates were about to celebrate-the coming of the Christ Child from heaven to earth, to be born a tiny infant in a lowly stable.
Above them was the velvety blue-black canopy of heaven, Swiss-dotted (as it seemed to her) with an infinite variety of brilliant lights twinkling down to earth.
Her eyes were fixed on the shimmering tapestry above as she and her father walked, silently but thoughtfully, toward the lighted church at the end of the block.
Suddenly she looked up at her father and, with that rare insight peculiar to a six-year-old, observed: "Daddy, I was just thinking-if the wrong side of heaven is so beautiful, how wonderful the right side must be!"
Heaven is a secure, eternal home prepared by Christ for believers, free from decay or fear.
The late Harry Rimmer penned the following letter to Charles E. Fuller of the Old Fashioned Revival Hour, shortly before his death.
"Next Sunday you are to talk about heaven. I am interested in that land because I have held a clear title to a bit of property there for over 50 years. I did not buy it. It was given to me without money and without price; but the Donor purchased it for me at a tremendous sacrifice.
"I am not holding it for speculation. It is not a vacant lot. For more than half a century I have been sending materials, out of which the greatest Architect of the universe has been building a home for me, which will never need remodeling or repairs because it will suit me perfectly, individually, and will never grow old.
"Termites can never undermine its foundation for it rests upon the Rock of Ages. Fire cannot destroy it. Floods cannot wash it away. No lock or bolts will ever be placed upon the doors, for no vicious person can ever enter that land, where my dwelling stands, now almost completed and almost ready for me to enter in and abide in peace eternally, without fear of being rejected.
"There is a valley of deep shadow between this place where I live, and that to which I shall journey in a very short time. I cannot reach my home in that city without passing through that valley. But I am not afraid because the best Friend I ever had went through the same valley long, long ago and drove away all its gloom. He stuck with me through thick and thin since we first became acquainted 55 years ago, and I hold His promise in printed form, never to forsake me or leave me alone. He will be with me as I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, and I shall not lose my way because He is with me.
"I hope to hear your sermon on heaven next Sunday, but I have no assurance I shall be able to do so. My ticket to heaven has no date marked for the journey, no return coupon and no permit for baggage. Yes, I am ready to go, and I may not be here while you are talking next Sunday evening, but I will meet you there some day."
Life's purpose is to prepare for eternity, just as a caterpillar transforms into a butterfly.
In the days the eastern emperors were crowned at Constantinople, it is said to have been a custom to set before his majesty a certain number of marble slabs, one of which he was to choose to be his tombstone. It was considered good for him to remember his funeral at his coronation. Life is time, and the purpose of time is to prepare for eternity. A Greek philosopher, Anaxagoras, was asked why he thought he was born. His answer was, "That I may meditate upon heaven." The Afterlife
To the uninformed eye, a caterpillar turns into a completely different creature when it becomes a butterfly. If a child had never been instructed that one emerged from the other, he would not recognize them as being related. But the scientist knows that when a caterpillar changes into a chrysalis, the whole of its body material undergoes a complete transformation except for a central and essential nerve that controls its entire system. This is retained. Then why shouldn't our spirits have greater powers in the next life? Why should they not be able to repeat our likeness in a celestial and sanctified form, so that we shall be as easily recognized by other spirits in the next world as we are by other bodies in this world?
Heaven's true residents are those genuinely born again, not defined by denominational labels.
Someone has very well said: "At three things I shall wonder in heaven: first, that I shall not find many there of whom I was certain; second, that I shall find many there whom I was sure I wouldn't find; but lastly, and most wonderful of all, that I am actually there myself." But I Am a Christian
A pious person who was perplexed by denominational differences had a dream. He thought that he had died and arrived at the gates of heaven. When he applied to the watchmen to admit him within the sacred walls, they inquired, "Whom do you want?" He replied that he belonged to the Independents and wished to join them in that place. "There are no such people here!" was the answer he received. "Well," said he, "I have had some connection with the Baptists; may I join them?" "We don't know any by that name," replied the heavenly watchmen. It was in vain that he asked for Episcopalians; they had never heard of them. There were not even any Wesleyans, Catholics, Greek Orthodox, or Presbyterians there. He was just going away in despair when, as a last resort, he said, "But I am a Christian." At this term the gates of bliss flew open, and he was received as a welcome guest. Being a Christian is the only thing that really matters in the sight of God. We may call ourselves by any other name, but, when we come to God, what counts is whether or not we are truly born-again Christians. No Glass Between!
There was a little boy who came from an extremely poor family. He received no gifts at Christmas time, but he often looked into the store windows at the exciting things other little boys could have but he could not. One day he was run over by a car and taken to a hospital. One of the nurses brought him some toys-a troop of soldiers. As he touched them, he said, "There isn't any glass between!" There is a glass separating us now from the things that many of our fellowmen enjoy in this life, even great honor and respect in the house of God, but the day will come when there will be no glass.
The eternal joy of heaven far surpasses any temporary earthly pleasure or possession.
Charles H. Spurgeon once wisely observed, "If a man might have a cottage on a hundred years' lease, he would prize it much more than the possession of a palace for a day." Of course he would, and this is what adds so much preciousness to the joys of heaven, for they are eternal.
True heaven is seen in Christlike compassion and caring for those in need.
One Sunday, a minister preached a sermon about heaven. Next morning, as he was going to town, he met one of his wealthy members. This man stopped the preacher and said, "Pastor, you preached a good sermon on heaven, but you didn't tell me where heaven is." "Ah," said the preacher, "I am glad of the opportunity this morning. I have just returned from the hilltop up there. In that cottage there is a member of our church. She is a widow with two little children. She is sick in one bed and her two children are sick in the other bed. She doesn't have anything in the house-no coal, no bread, no meat, and no milk. If you buy a few groceries and go there yourself and say, 'My sister, I have brought these provisions in the name of the Lord Jesus,' ask for a Bible, read the Twenty-third Psalm, and then go down on your knees and pray-if you don't see heaven before you get through, I'll pay the bill." The next morning the man said, "Pastor, I saw heaven and spent fifteen minutes there. There's no bill for you to pay." The Christlike Heart
There is one additional factor that will enable us to know Christ "as he is," and that is "we shall be like him" (1 John 3:2). Being like Him will make us sensitive to all that we have missed in our relationship with Him on earth. You may have had a close friend for years, yet never truly known him, just because you are radically different from him. But someone who has a real affinity of nature with him will be able to see in him what you have never seen; he is like him and sees him as he is. You must have the Christlike heart to see the Savior; and in heaven our hearts will be perfectly tuned to His.
Though we sing of heaven, our hearts often cling to earthly comforts instead.
Field Marshall Viscount Montgomery, an Englishman who was not ashamed to assert his faith in God, was invited to speak at the opening of a hymn book publisher's new printing plant. He urged rewriting some of the hymns which he found dismally at odds with man's true nature.
Montgomery said, "We sing, 'O Paradise, O Paradise, How I long for Thee.'But we do not really long for that. We long to stay on here a bit longer."
Then he added, "I would like to see an author write 'O Paradise, O Paradise, I have a little shop, and just as long as profits last, here I mean to stop.'"
A mother's hope in heaven motivates a child's salvation on earth.
I remember in the Exposition building in Dublin, while I was speaking about Heaven, I said something to the effect that at this moment a mother is looking down from Heaven expecting the salvation of her daughter here to-night, and I pointed down to a young lady in the audience. Next morning I received this letter:
"On Wednesday, when you were speaking of heaven, you said, 'It may be this moment there is a mother looking down from heaven expecting the salvation of her child who is here.' You were apparently looking at the very spot where my child was sitting. My heart said, 'That is my child. That is her mother.' Tears sprang to my eyes. I bowed my head and prayed, 'Lord, direct that word to my darling child's heart; Lord save my child.' I was then anxious till the close of the meeting, when I went to her. She was bathed in tears. She rose, put her arms around me, and kissed me. When walking down to you she told me it was that same remark--about the mother looking down from heaven--that found the way home to her, and asked me, 'Papa, what can I do for Jesus?'"
A dying boy's faith comforts his father and points to heaven's assurance.
But I have another anecdote to tell. It was Ralph Wallace who told me of this one. A certain gentleman was a member of the Presbyterian Church. His little boy was sick. When he went home his wife was weeping, and she said, "Our boy is dying; he has had a change for the worse. I wish you would go in and see him." The father went into the room and placed his hand upon the brow of his dying boy, and could feel that the cold, damp sweat was gathering there; that the cold, icy hand of death was feeling for the chords of life. "Do you know, my boy, that you are dying?" asked the father. "Am I? Is this death? Do you really think I am dying?" "Yes, my son, your end on earth is near." "And will I be with Jesus to-night, father?" "Yes, you will be with the Saviour." "Father, don't you weep, for when I get there I will go right straight to Jesus and tell Him that you have been trying all my life to lead me to Him." God has given me two little children, and ever since I can remember I have directed them to Christ, and I would rather they carried this message to Jesus--that I had tried all my life to lead them to Him--than have all the crowns of the earth; and I would rather lead them to Jesus than give them the wealth of the world. If you have got a child go and point the way. I challenge any man to speak of heaven without speaking of children. "For of such is the kingdom of heaven."
A blind girl is assured that in heaven they will see, for there is no night there.
"Mother, shall we see in heaven?" was the question of a poor blind girl. "Yes, dear: we shall see in heaven. There shall be no night there."
Heaven is near to all, regardless of physical location at death.
John Howard the philanthropist, honored by a monument in St. Paul's Cathedral, but more highly honored in the hearts of relieved prisoners, when parting with a friend previous to an intended visit to Egypt, where it seemed probable that he would die of the plague, said to him, "We shall soon meet in heaven. The way to heaven is as near from Graml Cairo as from London."
Questions the relevance of earthly fashion in heaven, highlighting eternal perspective.
"Ma, if I should die, and go to heaven, should I wear my moir-antique dress?" — "No, my love: we can scarcely suppose we shall wear the attire of this world in the next." — "Then tell me, ma, how the angels would know I belonged to the best society."
A dying soldier's last message to his father expresses hope to meet in heaven.
A soldier entered the rooms of the Christian Commission at Nashville, to secure an envelope, in which to enclose the bloody scrap of a leaf from a dying son to his father. The soldier said the son was his partner. In the charge on Kenesaw Mountain, he discovered him staggering back, with blood streaming from his mouth. A mienic-ball had severed his tongue at the roots, so that he could not speak. He made his partner understand that he wanted paper and pencil; when he wrote, with bloody fingers, trembling in death, the solitary line,— "Father, meet me in heaven." He tried to sign his name; but only an irregular and vanishing line appeared: life had fled.
Heaven is a place of joyful, eternal activity and never-ending worship and thought.
I could hardly wish to enter heaven, did I believe its inhabitants were idly to sit by purling streams, fanned by balmy airs. Heaven, to be a place of happiness, must be a place of activity. Has the far-reaching mind of Newton ceased its profound investigations? Has David hung up his harp, as useless as the dusty arms in Westminster Abbey? Has Paul, glowing with Godlike enthusiasm, ceased itinerating the universe of God? Are Peter and Cyprian and Edwards and Payson and Evarts filling away eternity in mere psalms singing? Heaven is a place of restless activity, the abode of never-irring thought. David and Isaiah will sweep nobler and lofier strains in eternity; and the minds of the saints, unclogged by cumbersome clay, will forever feast on the banquet of rich and glorious thought. My young friends, go on, then; you will never get through. An eternity of untiring action is before you, and the universe of thought is your field.
— Bleacher
Some will enter heaven easily, others must explain their lives before the gate opens.
Gov. Corwin says that some church members will have to make a great many explanations, before St. Peter, the reported keeper of the gate of heaven, will let them in. The character of others is so unequivocal that none will be required: the gate will fly wide open before them.
The redeemed will shine gloriously in heaven, reflecting the glory of Christ.
What a heavenful of princely creatures the Eternal Father will have, when all the redeemed shall be presented to him in the brightness of his Son's glory, even as his Son is the brightness of his glory! Christ has said, "They will shine like so many suns, in the kingdom of the Father." A whole heavenful of glorious-bodied creatures, each one emitting a splendor like the glorious body of the Lord! "We are now the sons of God; but it doth not yet appear what we shall be." Dr. R. W. Hamilton.
Though unseen, the pull of heavenly things is felt by faith like a kite's unseen string.
In the twilight of a summer evening, a pastor called at the residence of one of his parishioners, and found, seated in the doorway, a little boy with both hands extended upward, holding a line. "What are you doing here, my little friend?" inquired the minister. "Flying my kite, sir," was the reply. "Flying your kite!" exclaimed the pastor. "I can see no kite: you can see none."—"I know it, sir," responded the lad. "I cannot see it; but I know it is there, for I feel it pull." If our affections are set upon things above, we shall have a sense of it which cannot be mistaken.
God may choose to bring children to heaven early, like transplanting tender plants.
Perhaps God does with his heavenly garden as we do with our own. He may chiefly stock it from nurseries, and select for transplanting what is yet in its young and tender age,—flowers before they have bloomed, and trees ere they begin to bear. Dr. Guthrie.
A child's faith shows heaven is where Jesus is, and hell cannot be where He is not.
A little negro-boy, when on his death-bed, was visited by a missionary, to whom he spoke of the happiness he felt, and the longing desire he had to be with Jesus. "I am going to heaven soon; and then I shall see Jesus, and be with him forever," said the little fellow. "But," rejoined the missionary, "if Jesus were to leave heaven, what would you do?"—"I would follow him," replied the boy. "But suppose," said the missionary, "Jesus went to hell: what would you do then?" In an instant, with an intelligent look and a smile on his countenance, he replied, "Ah, massa! there is no hell where Jesus is." S. M. Haughton.
Heaven is a perfect city with Jesus as king, no sorrow, and eternal praise.
A city never built with hands, nor hoary with the years of time; a city whose inhabitants no census has numbered; a city through whose street rushes no tide of business, nor nodding hearse creeps slowly with its burden to the tomb; a city without griefs or graves, without sins or sorrows, without births or burials, without marriages or mournings; a city which glories in having Jesus for its king, angels for its guards, saints for citizens; whose walls are salvation, and whose gates are praise. Dr. Guthrie.
If contention exists in heaven, it would be over who is closest to Jesus Christ.
A minister once asked his Sunday-school children, if there should be any such thing as contention in heaven, what they thought it would be about. "O sir!" they replied, "there will be no strife there."—"Well, but supposing there should be such a thing: what do you think it would be about?"—"Well, sir," said one, "I suppose, if there be any contention, it will be who shall get nearest to Jesus Christ."
Dying believers express joy and anticipation of the light and presence of heaven.
A converted heathen child coming to the gates of death said, "After this, heaven!" Blumhardt, when dying, exclaimed, "Light breaks in! hallelujah!" and expired. Olympia Morata, dying, declared, "I distinctly behold a place filled with ineffable light."
A believer trusts in meeting loved ones alive in heaven beyond death's land.
A Christian lady, on her death-bed, in reply to a remark of her brother, who was taking leave of her to return to his distant residence, that he should probably never again meet her in the land of the living, answered, "Brother, I trust we shall meet in the land of the living: we are now in the land of the dying."
Heaven's vast dimensions provide ample space for countless inhabitants forever.
Revelations, twenty-first chapter, sixteenth verse, "And he measured the city with a reed, twelve thousand furlongs. The length, height, and breadth of it are equal." Twelve thousand furlongs, 7,920,000 feet, which, being cubed, is 918,988,000,000,000,000,000,000 cubic feet, the half of which we will reserve for the throne of God and the court of heaven, half of the balance for the streets; and the remainder divided by 4.96, the cubical feet in the rooms 19 feet square and 16 feet high, will be 5,743,759,000,000 rooms. We will now suppose the world always did and always will contain 900,000,000 of inhabitants, and a generation will last 33½ years, (2,700,000 every century), and that the world stands 100,000 years, — 27,000,000,000,000 persons. Then suppose there were 11,230 such worlds, equal to this number of inhabitants and duration of years, then there would be a room 16 feet long and 17 feet wide and 15 feet high for each person; and yet there would be room. Episcopal Methodist.
Heaven is near, just a sigh away, like being upstairs in the same house.
We measure distance by time. We are apt to say that a certain place is so many hours from us. If it is a hundred miles off, and there is no railroad, we think it a long way: if there is a railway, we think we can be there in no time. But how near must we say heaven is?—for it is just one sigh, and we get there. Why, my brethren, our departed friends are only in the upper room, as it were, of the same house. They have not gone far off: they are up stairs, and we are down below. Spurgeon.
Heavenly joy lasts unimaginably longer than any earthly measure of time.
Suppose the whole world were a sea, and that, when every thousand years expired, a bird must carry away or drink up only one drop of it. In process of time, it will come to pass that this sea, though very huge, shall be dried up; but yet many thousand millions of years must be passed before this can be done. Now, if a man should enjoy happiness in heaven only for the space of time in which this sea is drying up, he would think his case most happy and blessed: but, behold! the elect shall enjoy the kingdom of heaven not only for that time, but, when it is ended, they shall enjoy it as long again; and, when all is done, they shall be as far from ending of this their joy as they were at the beginning.
— W. Perkins
The redeemed in heaven will engage in learning and study of various sciences.
Dr. Dick argues, that the redeemed in heaven will cultivate arithmetic, geometry, trigonometry, conic sections, astronomy, natural philosophy, chemistry, anatomy, and physiology, and the various branches of history. Had he lived in these days, he might have added geology, mental and moral science, and all other branches of a modern university curriculum; but he would have made a sorry heaven for some of us.
Entering heaven is welcomed joyfully by angels and the redeemed with music and celebration.
As Bunyan's pilgrims drew near the gate of the Celestial City, a great company came out to meet them; and the king's trumpeters saluted them with ten thousand welcomes. They were escorted up to the gates by the glorious throng, amid the singing of angels, and the notes of the trumpeters; while the bells of the city itself rang out a joyful welcome. The pilgrims were enraptured with their company and the prospect before them, as many a dying saint has been.
Heaven is portrayed as banquet, paradise, inheritance, kingdom, country, and city, illustrating its glory and joy.
It is held forth to our view as a banquet, where our souls shall be satisfied forevermore; the beauties of Jehovah's face, the mysteries of divine grace, the riches of redeeming love, communion with God and the Lamb, fellowship with the infinite Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, being the heavenly fulness on which we shall feed. As a paradise, — a garden of fruits and flowers, on which our spiritual natures and gracious tastes will be regaled through one ever-verdant spring and golden summer; a paradise where lurks no serpent to destroy, and where fruits and flowers shall never fade and droop, nor die. As an inheritance; but then an inheritance that is incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away, — the inheritance of the saints in light. As a kingdom, whose immunities, felicities, and glories are splendid and vast, permanent and real, quite overwhelming, indeed, to our present feeble imaginings. As a country over whose wide regions we shall traverse in all the might of our untried faculties, and in all the glow of new and heaven-born energies, discovering and gathering fresh harvests of intelligence, satisfaction, and delight. As a city whose walls are burnished gold, whose pavement is jasper, sardonyx, and onyx, through which flows the river of life; the inhabitants of which hunger no more, thirst no more, sicken no more, weep no more, die no more; a city where there is no need of the sun by day, in which there is no night at all, and of which the
Lord God Almighty is the light, and the Lamb the glory. As a palace, where dwells the Lord our righteousness, the King in his beauty displayed, — his beauty of holiest love; in the eternal sunshine of whose countenance bask and exult the host that worship at his feet. As a building that has God for its Maker, immortality for its walls, and eternity for its day. As a sanctuary, where the thrice-holy divinity enshrined in our own nature in the person of
Immanuel is worshipped and adored, without a sigh, without an imperfection, and without intermission; where hymns of praise, hallelujahs of salvation, and hosannahs of redemption, uttered by blest voices without number, ever sound before the throne. As a temple bright with the divine glory, filled with the divine presence, streaming with divine beauty, and peopled with shining monuments of divine goodness, mercy, and grace.
— Dr. Beaumont
God gives us earthly blessings as glimpses to inspire longing for heavenly abundance.
The rabbins report, that, when Joseph gathered much corn in Egypt, he threw the chaff into the Nile, that, flowing to the neighboring cities and nations more remote, they might know what abundance was laid up for them. So God hath thrown some husks to us in this world, that, tasting the sweetness thereof, we might aspire to his bounty above. If there be such glory in God's footstool, what will there be in his throne? If he give us so much in the land of our pilgrimage, what will he not give us in our own country? if so much to his enemies, what will he not give to his friends? Spencer.
Heaven's glory is depicted as golden perfection, surpassing earthly trials and imperfections.
All the visions were rich, but this the richest, — that the floor of the house shall be covered with gold. The floor and street are walking-places, and how rich will our steps be then! Alas! here we sometimes step into the ruin, and then, again, stumble upon blocks and stones. Then we sometimes fall into the holes, and have our heel caught in a snare; but then there will be none of these. Gold, gold! all will be gold and golden perfections when we come into the Holy Place. The idolatrous temple of Diana was so bright and dazzling, that the door-keeper cried always to them that entered, "Take heed to your eyes!" What faculties of vision must we have to behold the glory of the temple above! Buck.
Christ's glory will illuminate and glorify the saints, unlike the sun that eclipses stars.
There is this difference between the Sun of righteousness and that in the sky, — that whereas the latter, by his presence, eclipses all the planets (his attendants), the former, though radiant with a much brighter splendor, will by his presence impart glory to his saints, according to that word, "When Christ, who is our life, shall appear, then shall ye also appear with him in glory." So that the elect, in relation to this Sun, shall not be like stars, which his shining obscures, and makes to disappear, but like polished silver, or well-glazed arms, or those vaster balls of burnished brass the tops of churches are sometimes adorned with, which shine not till they are shined upon, and derive their glittering brightness, and all the dazzling fire that environs and illustrates them, from their being exposed (unscreened) to the sun's refulgent beams. R. Boyle.
True believers joyfully face death, assured of their heavenly destination.
Two Cistercian monks in the reign of King Henry VIII. were threatened, before their martyrdom, by the lord-mayor of that time, that they should be tied in a sack, and thrown into the Thames. "My lord," said one, "we are going to the kingdom of heaven; and whether we go by and or water is of very little consequence to us."
Earthly graves are not heaven; heaven is a distinct, spiritual reality.
A little city boy whose mother had died had told him that he was going to heaven. She was buried in a beautiful cemetery, amid the trees and flowers. As he stood by her grave, he looked about him, and then into the grave where his mother's corpse was laid, and asked, "Is this heaven?"
Believers should hasten toward heaven, not be distracted by worldly things.
Why do we not go home? Why are we like a silly child, that when his father sends him forth, and bids him his him home again, every flower that he meets with in the field, every sign he sees in the street, every companion that meets him in the way, stops him, and hinders him from ropairing to his father? So it is with us for the most part: every trifle, every profit, every trouble, every matter of pleasure, every delight, so enough to divert and turn aside our thoughts from death, from home, from heaven, from our
God; and we are taken up and lose ourselves, and know not where. Sibbes.
Christians eagerly anticipate going home to heaven after their earthly life.
Mr. Mead, an aged
Christian, when asked how he did, answered,
"I am going home as fast as I can, as every honest man ought to do when his day's work is over; and I bless God I have a good home to go to."
Heaven is the true home that sanctifies earthly longings and comforts believers.
"Home"—oh, how sweet is that word! What beautiful and tenfier associations cluster thick around it! Compared with it, house, mansion, palace, are cold, heartless terms. But "home!" that word quickens the pulse, warms the heart, stirs the soul to its depths, makes age feel young again, rouses apathy into energy, sustains the sailor in his midnight watch, inspires the soldier with courage on the field of battle, and imparts patient endurance to the worn-down sons of toil. The thought of it has proved a sevenfold shield to virtue: the very name of it has been a spell to call back the wanderer from the paths of vice. And far away, where myrtles bloom and palm-trees wave, and the ocean sleeps upon coral strands, to the exile's fond fancy it clothes the naked rock, or stormy shore, or barren moor, or wild highland mountain, with charms he weeps to think of, and longs once more to see. Grace sanctifies these lovely affections, and imparts a sacredness to the homes of earth by making them types of heaven. As a home the believer delights to think of it. Thus, when lately bending over a dying saint, and expressing our sorrow to see him lay so low, with the radiant countenance rather of one who had just left heaven than of one about to enter it, he raised and clasped his hands, and exclaimed in ecstasy, "I am going home." Dr. Guthrie.
Heaven is a holy, perfect place beyond human comprehension, desired by the soul.
HEAVEN, Ideas of Heaven was, in Southey's view, the home of genius, where all the gifted spirits of our race hold exalted fellowship. He longed to see and converse with Shakespeare, Dante, and Chaucer. John Foster, a man whose character and thoughts were cast in a far different mould, felt in this world that he was under restraint; that the great secrets of the spiritual universe were hid from him; that death would break down the barrier, and would give his spirit free scope to plunge into the mysteries of truth. His sublime soul was like a courser panting to leap the barrier; like an eagle dragging at its chain, and longing to soar above the clouds. Leighton's desire was simply spiritual: it was a longing for purity, love, perfection, Christ, and God. He felt this was a dark world, because a sinful one; and he longed for a holy heaven more than they who watch for the morning, saying, "The utmost we poor mortals can attain to is to lie awake in the dark, and a great piece of art and patience is to while away the hours of night." He delighted in the old apothegyn, "The day which you fear as the death-day of time is the birth-day of eternity." His alacrity to depart resulted from his earnest desire to see and enjoy perfection in the perfect sense of it, which he could not do, and live. J. Stoughton.
Heaven’s majesty and glory surpass human understanding and description.
It would be a poor heaven, which such beings as ourselves could comprehend or anticipate. Give me the majestic cloud, the oracular veil, the mighty shadows which recede as we advance, filling the mind with amazement, but forbidding us to approach, and examine what they are. I wish, when I have climbed to the highest pinnacle to which thought can soar, to be compelled to confess that I have not yet reached the base of the everlasting hills. H. Melvill
The joys of heaven are beyond human measurement or comprehension.
Augustine tells us, that one day he was about to write something upon the eighth verse of the thirty-sixth Psalm, "Thou shalt make them drink o the rivers of thy pleasures; and, being almost swallowed up with the contemplation of heavenly joys, one called unto him very loudly by his name; and, inquiring who it was, he answered, "I am Hieron, with whom in thy lifetime thou hadst so much conference concerning doubts in Scripture, and am now best experienced to resolve thee of any doubts concerning the joys of heaven. But only let me first ask thee this question, 'Art thou able to put the whole earth, and all the waters of the sea, into a little pot? Canst thou measure the waters in thy fist, and mete out heaven with thy span? or weigh the mountains in scales, and the hills in a balance?' If not, no more is it possible that thy understanding should comprehend the least of those joys." Spencer.
St. Thomas built a heavenly palace by giving earthly treasures to the poor.
"When St. Thomas was at Clearsea, our Lord appeared to him, and said, 'The King of the Indies, Gondoforus, hath sent his provost Abanes to seek for workmen well versed in the science of architecture, who shall build for him a palace finer than that of the Emperor of Rome. Behold! now, I will send thee to him.' And Thomas went; and Gondoforus commanded him to build for him a magnificent palace, and gave him much gold and silver for the purpose. The king went into a distant country, and was absent for two years; and St. Thomas, meanwhile, instead of building a palace, distributed all the treasures intrusted to him among the poor and sick. And, when the king returned, he was full of wrath; and he commanded that St. Thomas should be seized, and cast into prison, and he meditated for him a horrible death. Meantime the brother of the king died, and the king resolved to erect for him a most magnificent tomb; but the dead man, after that he had been dead four days, suddenly arose and sat upright, and said to the king, 'The man whom thou wouldst torture is a servant of God. Behold, I have been in paradise; and the angels showed to me a wondrous palace of gold and silver and precious stones; and they said, 'This is the palace that Thomas the architect hath built for thy brother King Gondoforus.'" And, when the king heard these words, he ran to the prison, and delivered the apostle; and Thomas said to him, 'Knowest thou not that those who would possess heavenly things have little care for the things of this earth?' There are in heaven rich palaces without number, which were prepared from the beginning of the world for those who purchase the possession through faith and charity. Thy riches, O king! may prepare the way for thee to such a palace, but they cannot follow thee thither."
A sick boy's cherished rose is taken to heaven, showing spirits keep earthly loves.
As an illustration how the spirit may cling to something we may have loved in this life, permit me to refer to a beautiful legend told in Danish poetry. An angel has just been down to this world to accompany the soul of a little girl up to heaven. As they are going back, the child notices that the angel bears a rose-tree in one of its hands, and asks the meaning of it. The angel tells her that there was lately a poor boy in the city they have just left, who lay for a long time dying, and that rose was very dear to him through all his illness. It brought him the first news of spring; and it filled the close sick-room with its fresh, young fragrance. He loved it next best to his mother. He is now taking this darling rose up to heaven to plant it there. The spirit of the child looks up in the angel's face, and asks,—
"How know'st thou this, Bright Power?"
Then splendidly he smiled:
"Should I not know my flower?
I was that sickly child."
— Dr. Macleod
Ancient myths describe a blissful afterlife for favored mortals without death.
On the western margin of the earth lay a happy place named the "Elysian Plain," whither mortals favored by the gods were transported, without tasting death, to enjoy an immortality of bliss. This happy region was also called the "Fortunate Fields," and the "Isles of the Blessed."
— Bulfinch
Christian lives filled with peace and joy signal approaching heaven like refreshing sea breezes.
We read, that, in certain climates of the world, the gales that spring from the land carry a refreshing smell out to sea, and assure the watchful pilot that he is approaching a desirable and fruitful coast, when as yet he cannot discern it with his eyes. And, to take up the comparison of life to a voyage, in like manner it fares with those who have steadily and religiously pursued the course which heaven pointed out to them. We shall sometimes find by their conversation towards the end of their days, that they are filled with peace and hope and joy; which, like those refreshing gales and reviving odors to the seamen, are breathed forth from paradise upon their souls, and give them to understand with certainty that God is bringing them into their desired haven. Townson.
Christians can joyfully anticipate heaven as if seeing its shore from afar.
One should go to sleep at night as homesick passengers do, saying, "Perhaps in the morning we shall see the shore." To us who are Christians, it is not a solemn, but a delightful thought, that perhaps nothing but the opaque, bodily eye prevents us from beholding the gate which is open just before us, and nothing but the dull ear prevents us from hearing the ringing of those bells of joy which welcome us to the heavenly land. That we are so near death is too good to be believed. Beecher.
Heaven is a kingdom of kings where faithful souls share Christ's honor and glory.
When Cyneas, the ambassador of Pyrrhus, after his return from Rome, was asked by his master, "What he thought of the city and state," he answered, "that it seemed to him to be a state of none but great statesmen, and a commonwealth of kings." Such is heaven, — no other than a parliament of emperors, a commonwealth of kings: every humble faithful soul in that kingdom is co-heir with Christ, hath a robe of honor, and a sceptre of power, and a throne of majesty, and a crown of glory.
— Spencer
The glory of heaven surpasses even the brightest stars, revealing God's uncreated presence.
A heathen girl who had been instructed by the missionaries was once looking out on the starlit night, when she exclaimed almost in ecstasy, "How beautiful will heaven look when we get there if the outside is so fair!" When Sir William Herschel examined the nearest fixed star, Sirius, with his great telescope, the whole heavens about it were lit up with the splendor of our sky at sunrise. And, when the star fairly entered the field of view, the brightness was so overpowering, the astronomer was forced to protect his eye by a colored glass. It was calculated that this star equalled fourteen suns like ours; and recent discoveries have proved that even this is underrated. If God has given such splendor to a created object, what must be the glory of that uncreated Presence before which angels veil their faces? "Now we see through a glass darkly, but then face to face." What must it be to be forever shut out from that abode of bliss, and consigned to blackness of darkness forever? S. S. Times.
Heaven welcomes diverse believers united by faith, bearing varied fruits for all.
Amongst the good whom we hope to meet in heaven, there will be every variety of character, taste, and disposition. There is not one "mansion" there; but "many." There is not one "gate" to heaven; but many. There are not gates only on the north; but "on the east three gates, and on the west three gates, and on the south, three gates." From opposite quarters of the theological compass, from opposite quarters of the religious world, from opposite quarters of human life and character, through different expressions of their common faith and hope, through different modes of conversion, through different portions of the Holy Scripture, will the weary travellers enter the Heavenly City, and meet each other—"not without surprise"—on the shores of the same river of life. And on those shores they will find a tree bearing, not the same kind of fruit always and at all times, but "twelve manner of fruits," for every different turn of mind, — for the patient sufferer, for the active servant, for the holy and humble philosopher, for the spirits of just men now at last made perfect; and "the leaves of the tree shall be for the healing," not of one single church or people only, not for the Scotsman or the Englishman only, but for the "healing of the nations," — the Frenchman, the German, the Italian, the Russian, — for all those from whom it may be, in this, its fruits have been farthest removed, but who, nevertheless, have "hungered and thirsted after righteousness," and who therefore "shall be filled." A. P. Stanley.
Heaven sends pledges of peace, glory, and angelic help to encourage believers on their journey.
As soon as we have set out on our journey to go home, our home, by foretastes, comes to meet us; the peace of our home embraces us; the Spirit, like a dove, rests upon our hearts; the glory of our home allures us; and angel-servants from our home bear us company, and help us on our road. Oh, what a sweet home ours must be that can send us such pledges of its sweetness, while we are yet a great way off!
— J. Pulsford
