Death
0 that they were wise, that thaj uvderstood this, that they would consider their latter e7id. — Deuteronomy xxxii: 29.
Whenever we are called upon to mark the end to which we are hastening, we are required to take a serious view of death with all its consequences. Sometimes the peaceful and happy death of the righteous, and the glorious rewards of heaven, is the end to which we are pointed by the finger of God. Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end of that man is peace.” Sometimes the unhappy death and everlasting destruction of the finally impenitent, is the end which we are called upon seriously to consider. Says the psalmist, ‘’I was envious at the foolish, when I saw the prosperity of the wicked” — ‘’ Until I went into the sanctuary of God; then understood I their end. How are they brought into desolation as in a moment.” “Whose end is destruction.” “Who are nigh unto cursing; whose end is to be burned.” “If judgment begin at the house of God, what shall the end be of them that ol)(py not the gospel?”
Of simihir import is the text. The Lord had repeat-
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* Preached on a funeral occasion, and also on the last Sabbath in the year.
edly warned the rebellious Israelites, but they would not hear. He bad annexed an awful penalty to bis law — a penalty wbicli could not be repeabd. And yet they continued to rebel. Notwithstanding the awful end to which they were hastening, they continued to persist in their desperate course. And strange to tell, their insensibility increased with their increasing danger, until the Lord himself exclaimed *’ 0 that they were wise, that they understood this, that they would consider their latter end.”
The text more than intimates a strong aversion in sinners to serious consideration of their death and its consequences. They can converse with freedom about the irides of time. They are wise to plan, and active to pursue the business of this world. But few, very few seem to be making their plans for the world to come. At times, however, the thoughts of death and eternity may alarm theni, while they hear the thunders of God’s law, or witness their friends in the agonies of death; yet how soon all is forgotten.
Others there are who form some faint resolutions to reform, or become Christians before they die; but ere one short day or hour is p ;st, all is gone and forgotten. The subject is dismissed. Death and eternity are viewed as at a distance. TJie sinner presumes that there is time enough yet. But ere long his friends assemble around him. They take him by the hand, and tell him, you are dyivs;. Now, for the first time, he begins to realize that he is moital. ‘’All men think all men mortal but themselves.” But he is now too far gone to make preparation. The solemn truth that he must die, is whispered to him at the last moment, on the very thresh hold of the eternal world. He, perhaps, dies, without uttering a word respecting his soul. His friends, too, may be equally reluctant to speak on the subject. All are concerned — all are active — all are anxious for the body; but if any are anxious for his soul, nothing is said — nothing is done.
What reluctance, what backwardness to speak of death, and its solemn consequences. Whence is it that mankind will not pause, and reflect on a subject of such infinite moment? Whatever may be the cause, the fact is obvious. On all other topics, friends and neighbors can meet and converse with ease and interest, but on death, judgment and eternity, they have little or nothing to say. The great end for which we came into being, must neither be talked of nor thought of. In this, both the wickedness and folly of sinners appear. On all other subjects they seem to have some wisdom, and a little understandings but on this they have neither. “0 that they were wise, that they understood this, that they would consider their latter end.”
However reluctant men may be seriously to reflect on death, and its consequences, it is absolutely necessary. Without it no preparation will be made. God once commissioned a prophet to cry in the ears of all the world. “The voice said cry. And he said, what shall I cry? All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field. The grass withereth, the flowei fadeth; because the Spirit of the Lord bloweth upon it. Surely the people is grass. The glass withcretli, the flower fadeth; but the word of the Lord shall stand forever,”
Philip, king of Macedon, it is said, employed a crier to call at the door of his bed chamber every morning, and cry, ^’Philip remember that thou art mortal.” Were the sinner seriously to reflect on death, judgment and eternity, for one half hour every morning and evening, he would soon be astonished at his own stupidity, and the folly of thousands around him.
It is useful to the Christian, as well as the sinner, to become familiar with this subject. ^’If you cannot face the image, how will you endure the reality?” ‘’ It is better to go to the house of mourning than to the house of feasting, for that is the end of all men, and the living will lay it to heart.”
The text leads us to contemplate death and its consequences.
1. It separates soul and body.
It is the soul which constitutes the man. It is that only which is worth an important thought. It dwells in a tenement which is subject to dissolution. ‘^ We dwell in houses of clay; our foundation is in the dust.” Our bodies are fearfully and wonderfully made.
“Our life contains a thousand springs,
And dies if one be gone,
Strange that a harp of thousand strings,
Should keep in tune so long.”
The body must die and return to dust. ‘’ There is no man that hath power over the spirit to retain the spirit, neither hath he power in the day of death; and there is no discharge in that war.” The dust returns to the ear!h as it was, and the soul can no longer keep possession, but must return to God who gave it.
The soul and body do not part without a struggle. It is a solemn thing to die. Aside from its consequences, death is in itself, solemn. Hence it is called the king of terrors. What it is to cndnre the pangs of death, we cannot lell. Some, in the horn’ of death, have told iis that it is more solemn than ihey had ever before imagine d — that they had ever considered it a very solemn thing to die — but now it appeared indescribably more solemn than ever. But although the dying have told us much, they have not told us all. No one has returned to describe the last struggle, the pang of separation.
Death is an untried scene to all the living. Notwithstanding so many have died in our woild, and so rrlany are daily and hourly dying aroimd us; yet when our turn comes, it will be all new. We shall then feel as we never felt before. And so death will always continue to be new to all who shall die. It will be as new to the last who shall die on the earth, as it was to Abel, the first who gave up the ghost.
2. Death dissolves all earthly relations.
We have tender connections — near and dear relatives. But all these relations must be dissolved. No ties of kindred, or of affection are regarded by the king of terrors. When he calls, the nearest relatives must part. The dearest earthly ties are sundered.
The husband is a husband no more.
The wife is a wife no more.
The parent is a parent no more.
The child is a child no more.
The brother is a brother no more.
The sister is a sister no more.
The pastor and his people must part.
“The earthly slicphenls dwell in dust,
The aged and the young,
The watchful eye in darkness closed,
And mute the instructive tongue.”
3. Death strips ns of all our possessions. Those who have large possessions — houses and lands, silver and gold, and merchandize — all who have much goods laid up for many years, and who are now laying up treasures on earth, must obey the loud summons of the king of terrors. INIan is stripped of his possessions at once. He is reduced to a coffin and a grave. “We brought nothing into the world, and it is certain that we can carry nothing out.” Death strips all of their titles — disrobes kings and emperors. All must lay their honors in the dust.
“Princes, this clay must be your bed,
In spite of all your towers,
The tall, the wise, the reverend head,
Must lie as low as ours.”
Visit the land of darkness, and on whom do you tread? “The mighty man, and the man of war, the judge, and the prophet, and the prudent, and the ancient, and the captain of fifty, and the honorable man, and the counsellor, and the cunning artificer, and the eloquent orator.” “The grave hath enlarged herself, and opened her mouth without measure, and the glory of nations and their multitude, and their pomp have descended into it.”
4. Death breaks up all our earthly plans. They are all blasted at once. The worldling, the covetous, and the man of pleasure, must stop in their career. Their purposes are broken off. The rich man says, ^’I will pull down my barns and build greater, and there will I hostow nil my fruits nnd my goods. And I will sny 10 my soul, soul it.cii lia.’-t mr.cli goods lad up for many years, lake thine ease, eat, drink and be meriy.” But death breaks up all his phms. God says, “Ihou fool, thisnigiit thy soul shall be rerpiired of ihee.”
The gay and thoughlless youth is Haltering himself with the fair prospect of future scenes of happiness on earth, but suddenly the siroke of death dashes all his fond ant;ciy:ations.
All our plans for doing good, however wise and benevolent, now come to an end. ‘’ Also their love and their haired, and their envy is now perished; niitlier have they any more a portion forever in any thing that is done under the sun.” “There is no work, nor device, nor wisdom, nor knowledge in the grave, whither thou goest.”
5. Death puts a period to our probation. This world is not our home. The great errand on which we were sent into the world, is, that we may prepare for eternity. It is now the season of trial — the most important period of our being. Every act of ours will have some influence on us through interminable ages. To every soul God has assigned a great and iniporlant work. All things are now prep-ning for the day when God shall bring every work into jndgnient, wiih every secret thing. The gate? of heaven are now flung wide opi’n to every sinner. Heaven with all its glories, is brought within his reach. At ih sail cal moment, the world is presenting all ils charms. The paih to hell is broad, and easy, and of rap d desci nt. The lust of the llesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life, and all the fascinating pleasures of sin, are now exerting their united influence to try this immortal soul, whether it will yield and go to bell, or whether it will resist, deny itself, and take up every cross, despising the shame. Every hour, and every moment is big with cons, quences. The season of I rial is shoit. It is to be enjoyed but once. Eternity comes hastening on. Every sinner is now on irinl once for all. He is now invited by all the love and compassion of a bleeding Saviour, and urged by all the horrors of the second death, to enter the ark of safety. He is now called upon to strive — to agonize to enter the strait gate. But death closes the scene forever. At midnight the cry is made, “behold the bridegioom coraeth, go ye out to meet him.” Then those that are ready enter heaven, and the door is shut. To the impenitent, death closes the door of heaven, and closes it forever. The voice of the Saviour, and the sound of the gospel will be heard no more. Ministers will preach no more. No more will they warn every man niglu and day with tears. No Sabbath will again dawn upon the sinner. The doors of the- sanctuary will never again be opened to him, and a voice from the mercy-seat inviting him to enter, will be heard no more.
“The sacred temple’s sounding roof.
The voice of mercy and reproof.
Regarded never,”
will be heard no more.
6. Death seals up our account for the judgment.
“It is appointed unto man once to die, and after this, the judgment.” All the duties of religion neglected through life, will remain neglected. All the sins which are unpardoned at death, will remain unpardoned. When death comes, our work for eternity is ended. The account is gone in. It is sealed up. It cannot be altered. At death, every thing begins lo put on eternity, and to wear the aspect of immutability. A voice from heaven proclaims, “He that is unjust, let him be unjust still; and he that is filthy, let him be filthy still; and he that is righteous, let him be righteous still; and he that is holy, let him be holy still.”
Thus I have attempted to lead your thoughts to the consideration of a few particulars connected with the closing scene of life.
Death separates soul and body.
It dissolves all earthly relations.
It strips us of all our possessions.
It breaks up all our earthly plans.
It puts a period to our probation.
It seals up our account to the judgment.
I have been preparing the way to address a few words to the bereaved mourners before me — the partner, the parents, the brothers and sisters of the deceased. My friends, you have been called to witness the solenm scene which I have but faintly described. E R is no more. But a few days
since, you saw her sprightly and active, blooming with health. But the fairest human form is like the fading flower. ‘^ Man that is born of a woman is of few days, and full of trouble; he cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down; he fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth not.-’ You followed her, and saw her enter the dark valley. There her spirit took its flight to the unseen world. Her eyes are now closed in the wakeless sleep of death. Till the heavens be no more, she shall not awake, nor be raised out of her sleep.
Death hath dissolved the endearing relation which subsisted between her and you, forever. All your tears and sighs, cannot bring her back. You must go to her, but she cannot come to you.
When our friends die, our duty to them is ended. It remains for the living to lay it to heart. Fail not to bring this warning home to your hearts. Now that the streams of earthly comfort begin to fail, ‘’Set your affections on things above, and not on things on the earth.” And when Christ who is our life shall appear, then may ye also appear with him in glory.
My fellow mortals, it is a solemn thing to die. When I look around on this assembly, I see none who must not die. Though death now appears solemn, yet ere long it will appear still more solemn. These mortal bodies on which you fondly dote, will soon decay and die. Your friends will assemble around you, and taking you by the hand, tell you that you are dying. 0, how will you then feel?
All earthly relations now subsisting among you, will soon be dissolved. Husbands and wives, parents and children, brothers and sisters, must all bow to the king of terrors. As the nations which have gone before us, are all sleeping in the dust, and the living walk over them; so shortly our bodies will all lie in the grave, and the living will walk over us. This solemn sound
E R is dead, now strikes the ear of many a
gay and thoughtless youth in this assembly. So will it shortly be said of each one of us. The living will call us all by name, one after another — he is dead — she is dead; and we shall all soon be forgotten among the living.” The places which now know us, will know us no more forevei.’^
There is something solemn in the close of a day — of a week — of a month — of a year. The present is the last Sabbath, and the last day of the year. Here let us pause, and lake a retrospect of the year that is gone. Let each one ask himself, what report has it borne to heaven? Thousands of millions of our fellow travelers, have, during this period, gone to their long home. Many of them commenced the year with blooming health, and bright earthly pro.spects. And where are they now? “The fathers, wlierc are they?”
“The mighty flood, that rolls along
Its torrents to the main,
The waters lost can ne’er recall.
From that abyss again.
The (lays, the years, the ages dark,
Descending down to night,
Can never, never be redeemed,
Back to the gates of light.
Where are our fathers? Whither gone
The mighty dead of old?
The patriarchs, prophets, princes, kings,
In sacred books enrolled.’
Gone to the resting place of man,
His long, his silent home;
Where ages past have gone before,
Where future ages come.”
Had you been aiTiong that number, where would your souls have been now? Let me ask, have you repented of yoin- sins, and made your peace with God?
One pear more of your day of salvation is gone. One year more, you have enjoyed the pri il(pges of the gospel. One year more, God lias been waiting to be gracious. The sins of one year more, you have to answer for at the bar of God. You have one year less to live. Yon are one year nearer to the grave and the judgment of the great day. And where are yon now? Have you one year more, stood as a barren fig-tree in God’s vineyard 1 The voice of mercy, spare it a little longer, has prevailed one year more. Her voice is waxing feebler and feebler, while the voice of justice is waxing louder and louder, ‘’ Cut it down, why cumbereth it the ground.”
*’ To-day attend his gracious voice.
This is the summons that he sends,
Awake, for on this transient hour,
Thy long eternity depends.”