In the Light of Eternity

‘• In Thy light shall we see light.” — Psalm xxxvi. 9. ‘•The Lamb is the light thereof.” — Revelation xxl 23.

Nothing is seen in its own light — not even a visible thing. A landscape is not seen in its own light; it is perceived very much in the light of yesterday. How little of what you see is mere perception! Every sight ot nature is tinged with the light of memory. The poet looks from the bridge at midnight upon the rushing waters; but what he sees is not the flowing tide; it is a tide of memory which fills his eyes with tears. You listen to the babbling of the brook; but what you hear is not the babbling, it is the utterance of a dear name. You visit Rome, you visit Jerusalem, you visit Greece; do you see any of these by its own light .? No; they are air beheld by the light of yesterday; there is their glory, there lies their gold! “Even so,” cries the Psalmist, “it is with this world; ii you want to see it, you must look at it by the light of another world — God’s coming world.” He does not mean that when we quit the scenes of earth we shall have bright light in heaven. It is more than that. It is for the scenes of earth he wants the heavenly light. He says you cannot interpret your own skies without it. We often say that in the light of eternity earthly objects will fade from our sight. But the Psalmist says that until we get the light of eternity earthly objects will never be in our sight. It is by the light of the Celestial City — the City which has no need of the sun — that alone we can tell what here is large and what here is small.

Thou Lamb, slain from the foundation ot the world. Thou art the Light thereof! When God said, “Let us make man!” He meant not Adam, but Thee. Thou art the plan of the great building; to Thee all things move. By no other light can I understand the struggles of this earth. Not by Nature’s light can I understand them; I have seen the physical sunshine sparkle on my pain, and I thought it a cruel thing. Not by philosophy’s light can I understand them; I have seen the great thinker impeded by poverty, and I thought it an unseemly thing. Not in beauty’s light can I understand them; I have seen the artist lose his eyesight, and I thought it an unrighteous thing. But if the world is being woven for Thee I understand. If Thy type of sacrifice is the plan of the Architect, I understand. If Thy cross is Creation’s crown, I understand. If the Celestial City is a home for hospital training, I understand. If Thine angels are all ministering spirits, I understand. If the purest robe is not the white robe but the robe washed white, if the goal of man is not Eden but Gethsemane, if the glory of Thy Father is the sacrificial blood of love, then have I found the golden key; in Thy Light I have seen light!