The Marriage of Heaven and Earth

“I saw the New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.” — RkEv. xxi. 2.

HE poet Herbert speaks of a beautiful

day as “the bridal of the earth and sky.” I think the same description might apply to this passage in Revelation. What the seer beheld in this vision was the adaptation of heaven to the wants of earth; that is really, I think, what is implied in the “coming down.”. We should have expected a converse spectacle. We should have looked for words like these: “I saw the earth ascend into the air until it was lost and overshadowed in a blaze of heavenly glory.” All religions have sought a union of heaven and earth; but they have commonly sought it by the absorption of earth, not by the stooping of

heaven. They have said, “You must accommodate yourself to the New Jerusalem; you must not expect the New Jerusalem to come down to you.” We are constantly told to prepare to meet our God; it is, indeed, the typical command of the old dispensation. But the watchword of the new is the opposite of this; it is, “I go to prepare a place for you.” One half our dread of death is the belief that the preparation must be all on the human side. It never occurs to us that, if man prepares to meet God, God equally prepares to meet man. It is not enough that our future should be in a scene of grandeur; it must be in a descending grandeur — the New Jerusalem must “come down.” It must come with a marriage ring, “as a bride adorned for her husband.” My wants must find their object. Many of my desires have never been mated here — I doubt if any has found its perfect ring. The eye has never seen the beauty which the fancy has not transcended. The ear has never heard the music which the thought has not excelled. The hand has never achieved the work which has left no flaw behind. The feet have never pursued a pleasure which has not faded in an hour. All these have found imperfect wedding bells. But the heart, the heart — where has its marriage been! Has love been satisfied below! Has not her marriage ring been broken even on the bridal morn! Where is its promised permanence! Where is its chanted changelessness! Where is its fancied claim to a fadeless crown! The desires of the heart have never found their bridal day.

My soul, O Lord, is incomplete without Thee. It is not that without Thee I have too much of earth; it is the reverse of that — I have too little. Eden has only yielded us half an apple after all. Earth has never finished her own buildings; in her best structures there is always wanting a little stone. This world is full of unmarried things — unfinished harmonies, unroofed dwellings, unfulfilled desires. I would fain see these completed, O my God. I know that there are structures more magnificent than these; but they are also more unearthly, and earth is my native land. Therefore I would rather complete these than build the new. Let thy Jerusalem come down — come down and supplement the earth! I would not leave my old life in fragments even to be lifted into higher glory. Let Thy New Jerusalem come down — to finish, to perfect, to supply the missing stone! Come down Thyself to see the old Tower of Babel that has tried to reach unto heaven and failed! Put a new flight of steps on the old stair! Crown the path where once we erred! Gild the day where once we wandered! Prosper the work where once we fainted! Resume the journey where once we halted! Complete the picture where the brush dropped from our hand! Many would rejoice to say, “The old world is ended”; rather would my gladness be, “The old world is finished.” It will be finished when my desires have found their marriage bells.