All Things Are Yours, When You Are Christ's

“All things are yours; whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come; all are yours; and ye are Christ’s; and Christ is God’s.” — 1 Cor, iii. 21-23.

A GREAT gulf is fixed between God and man. Sin is the separator. The fallen faU farther and faster by a law, as a planet world would fall away from the sun, if the unseen bond should burst that heretofore had held it.

Revelation rends the covering veil, and lo! a chain depending from the throne of God stretches across the void, and holds up the dislocated world. Its links are few; but its structure is beautiful, its material precious, its power divine. Come and see this golden chain of mercy that hangs from heaven, and touches the earth at our feet. The sight should make us glad, — more glad than Noah was when he beheld the bow of promise leaning on the bosom of the black thunder-cloud that seemed to threaten another flood.

The exultant apostle begins with that which lies next himself and traces all good, possessed or expected by men, upward through the well-ordered covenant to the sovereign gift of God. He begins with the lowest step, and climbs upward to the source of all. It will suit our purpose better to begin where he leaves off. When by the Spirit, witnessing through Paul, we have been lifted up to the great white throne in the heavens where mercy has her dwelling-place, we shall take our departure thence, and follow the course of mercy’s outgoings toward the children of men. The text leads us direct to the upper spring that we may learn how love is let down upon a lost world.

I. The highest link: “Christ is God’s,”
II. The next under it: “Ye are Christ’s.’’
III. The lowest: “All things are yours.”

I. Christ is God’s. This is the greatest outgoing of infinite love.

The Creator rejoices in all his works, but he has a special and peculiar interest in man. When the work of creation, as to its bulk, was nearly done, — when light had chased away the darkness, and order succeeded confusion, — when the sun and stars shone down from heaven, and flowers answered them from earth, with lesser light but equal loveliness, — when living beings were moving in earth, and sea, and air, each residing in its own element, and acting according to its kind, — creation was not yet complete — the Creator was not yet satisfied The sixth and last day was nearly done, and yet in the eye of the omniscient Contriver there was a blank between himself and his work which made it all duU and unprofitable. Every creature was very good of its kind, but as yet no part of the great organized material world could go into communion with its maker, God. The created world possessed no member of sufficient sensitiveness to feel its Creator’s hand; and the Creator found no point of sympathetic contact between himself, a spirit, and the material world which he had made. Creation had no head yet to know God, no heart to love him; and God desires to be known and loved.

Then was held that council in which humanity was planned. “Let us make man in our own image.” Accordingly, in the image of God created he man. Allied to God by an intelligent mind and an immortal spirit, yet wedded to matter by the body in which he dwells, man was added to the upper edge of creation on creation’s latest day, a link of communion between the Maker and his work. The world is now complete. In its whole and in its parts,” behold it is very good.’’

As afterwards among the inferior creatures no help meet was found for man, so at the first no help meet was found among them for God In both cases a new creation was required to meet and satisfy the want. God at first, and afterwards man, needed a creature dependent and receptive, destitute of power, but capable of communion. There is some analogy between these two companionships. The man is the head of the woman; Christ is the head of the man; God is the head of Christ (1 Cor. xi. 8). The analogy we could not have ventured to suggest, but finding it suggested in Scripture, we can, partially at least, appreciate its truth. It is partly visible to us, but, like an iceberg floating in the ocean, the greater portion of it lies below in depths unseen.

The mystery of the fall came on. Satan assaulted with success the only vulnerable point in all God’s material creation. The very excellence of man’s nature rendered possible man’s fall. It was necessary that the spirit destined to commune with God should be created free. At this opening it was possible for sin to enter; at this opening entered sin. The connecting link was broken. The glad thanksgiving of a world could no longer rise like sweet incense to the eternal Father; the love of the eternal Father could no longer thrill down through all that he had made. God on high was robbed of his creatures’ homage; the world in all its width was shut out from its Maker’s smile, and left to wither.

But though Satan was thus successful, he was not permitted to triumph. A stronger than he will destroy his works. But how? Will the Almighty reduce to nothing the world that sin has defiled, and call another into being by his word? No; for reasons perfectly known to himself, and partially patent even to our understanding, he determined not to destroy the damaged and create anew, but to redeem the lost, revive the dead, beautify the corrupted. To save, not to destroy, is the purpose of the Most High.

But how? When the creature called into being as a son has become an alien, — when the child, loathsome by spiritual death, can no longer be allowed to lie in the Father’s bosom, — where shall God now find a MAN, holy as himself, to be his companion, and reciprocate his love? Here is the mystery revealed: Christ is God’s. “Behold the man!” He dwells in the bosom of the Father, and yet is bound in brotherhood to the human family. This is the plan of redemption. This is the way of God back to the fallen, of the fallen back to God. God manifested in the flesh, the man Christ Jesus, is the one mediator. The Father cometh to no man; no man cometh to the Father but by him.

Satan did not triumph. The blow took effect, indeed; but the wound was curable. It did not overreach the Omniscient. In spite of it God found a holy Man through whom he might hold communion with his world, — a Man high enough to be his own fellow, and yet lowly enough to be a born brother of the lost in their adversity.

“Behold my servant whom I uphold; mine elect in whom my soul delighteth’’ (Isa. xlii. 1). “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased’” (Matt. iii. 17). Unspeakable, inconceivable is the satisfaction of the Father in Christ as the substitute and advocate of men. The Father’s delight in the Son incarnate is the uppermost hnk of the chain whereon all our hope for eternity hangs. How strong and sure it is! Who can break it through? Who can burst in between God and God’s dear Son, our Saviour? Satan tried in the wilderness to separate between this Man and God, as in the garden he had separated between the first man and God. The Tempted triumphed, and the tempter fled. “The prince of this world cometh and hath nothing in me.” “I and the Father are one.’” “Christ is God’s.’”

By the look of that holy Man the devils were driven away like chafl” before the wind; “What have we to do with thee, thou Jesus?” It is impossible that the

Father should hate holiness; it is impossible that the Son should do sin. By these two impossible things is made sure as the very being of God that first and greatest link in the chain of man s redemption — “Christ is God’s.”

II. Ye are Chrisfs. Observe, Christians, the intimation is not that Christ is yours. That is a truth, and a truth of inexpressible preciousness, but another and different thing is revealed here. It is not that He is your portion, but that ye are his, — not that ye have gotten Christ, but that Christ has gotten you.

In actual experience both the union and the delight in it are mutual:” My beloved is mine, and I am his.’* The vine holds the branch, and the branch holds the vine. These two are one attachment. The mother clings to her child, and the child, when danger threatens, clings to his mother. If the child were dead, the corpse would no longer clasp the mother; but neither would the mother continue to clasp the corpse. These two graspings stand or fall together. You must have both or neither. Such is the relation between Christ the Redeemer and Christians the redeemed.

A disciple’s present enjoyment may indeed correspond to the energy of the hold which he takes of Christ; but his real safety depends on the might and constancy of the hold which Christ takes and keeps of him. “My beloved is mine,” — there lies my present happiness; but “I am his,” — there lies my everlasting safety. A very slight breath of temptation may break asunder your love to Christ; but all the powers of darkness cannot overcome his love to you. Who shall separate? The heroic Paul sent forth the challenge to all the principalities and powers of creation. He boldly bade defiance to tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, peril, and sword; to death and life; to angels, principalities, and powers; to things present and things to come; to height and depth, and every other creature; — let them all lay on their utmost strain, he did not fear it. But the ground of this man’s confidence all the while lay in the constancy, not of himself, but of his Saviour. The bond which he felt compassing him about, — which he knew would hold him to the end, — was “the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. viii. 39). This allenduring, almighty love has its dwelling “in Christ Jesus.”

A British subject may be safe although surrounded by enemies in a distant land, — not that he has strength to contend alone against armed thousands, but because he is a subject of our queen. A despot on his throne, a horde of savages in their desert, have permitted a helpless traveller to pass unharmed, like a lamb among lions, — although, like lions looking on a lamb, they thirsted for his blood, — because they knew his sovereign’s watchfulness, and feared his sovereign s power. The feeble stranger has a charmed life in the midst of his enemies, because a royal arm unseen, encompasses him as with a shield. The power thus wielded by an earthly throne maysuggest and symboHze the perfect protection of Omnipotence. A British subject’s confidence in his queen may rebuke the feeble faith of a Christian “0 thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt? ‘* What though there be fears within and fightings without. He who bought his people with his own blood cannot want his inheritance, and will not permit any enemy to wrest from his hand the satisfaction of his soul. The man, with a deceitful lieaTt and a darkened mind, a feeble frame and a slippery way, a fainting heart and a daring foe, — the man would stumble and fall; but the member of Christ’s body cannot drop off, — the portion of the Redeemer cannot be wrenched from his grasp. “Ye are his;” Christ is the safety of a Christian.

Redemption has two sides, an upper and a lower, both glorious; but the upper side hath a glory that excelleth. The sinner gets a Saviour; that is a precious truth, but it is the lower side of salvation, — the side most readily seen from our stand-point on the earth. The Saviour gets a portion to satisfy his soul, a people to rejoice in and to rejoice with, for ever; this is the upper side of the same salvation, as seen from heaven, and shining in the light of God.

It is not easy for us in the body to get a glimpse of our own redemption on its higher and heavenward side. That aspect of it, on which its Author’s eyes are ever set, is too lofty for our position, too bright for our vision. So accustomed are we, even in our more earnest moments, to the nearer aspect and more subdued light of the lower side, that we abide babes, unskilful in the deeper departments of the word of righteousness. “What must I do to be saved?” comes readier to the lip of an anxious inquirer, than “What delight has Jesus in saving me?”

To think of ourselves as the portion wherein the Lord delights, is certainly consistent with thorough humility; but pride lies, or seems to lie, so nearly in the same line, that we are afraid to aim so high lest we should miss the mark and diverge into presumptuous sin. To realize the joy with which my Redeemer rejoices over me, as his portion, and yet to know how vile I am, is difficult, and seems dangerous. He must have been a skilful archer who dared to point his arrrow at an apple on his own child’s naked head, A man with a fainting heart and a faltering hand would abandon the chance of securing a great gain, rather than run the risk of incurring so great a loss.

If our humility were very deep, we could afford to let our faith and hope soar very high. In the experience of a much-exercised saint in the olden time, so far from humility being incongruous with an exulting sense of being the valued possession of a redeeming Lord, the height of the soul’s upward rebounding was ever in proportion to the lowness of its bowing down. See his fall and his rising again; “so foolish was I, and ignorant; I was as a beast before thee; nevertheless I am continually with thee; thou hast holden me by my right hand. Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel, and afterwards receive me into glory” (Ps. lxxiii. 22-24).

“Ye are Christ’s,” — his property and possession. Think of this in two aspects: 1st, How he obtains his property; and, 2d, How he will use it.

1. How he obtains his property; how it becomes his.

(1.) By the sovereign gift of God. “As many as thou hast given him.” “Thine they were, and thou gavest them me,” (John xvii.) The salvation of a Christian is no shallow thing that may be shuffled off in the shaking of the earth and the heavens when they shall pass away at their Makers presence. The root of the matter is not spread over the surface, striking only into the thin six thousand year layer of Time. It springs in the eternal purpose of the eternal God. It grows in the depths of his everlasting love. “I have loved thee with an everlasting love, therefore with loving-kindness have I drawn thee.” That work within your heart, which, at a certain period of your pilgrimage, convinced you of sin, and drew you to Jesus, was not the first step of a process. Conversion is the issue of a precious thought towards man, which springs in an unfathomable deep. In pursuance of his own purpose, when the set time was come, he laid the bands of love upon your heart, that he might do all his pleasure and possess all his own. Fear not. Christian; deep down beyond the reach of devils, beyond the search of angels, — deep in the love of God, in God who is love, springs and grows your eternal life. Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, mind hath not conceived where it takes its rise. Temptations may shake its protruding branches, but cannot blight its sustaining root.

(2.) By the price of his own blood. Ye are not your own, ye are bought with a price. The good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep. Had Christ not paid the price, they would have remained under the wrath of God, and in the power of sin. The deliverance which he gives them free he dearly bought. He gave himself, the just for the unjust. He took their place before God’s justice, that they might have his place in God’s complacent love. They are his — body and soul, time and eternity, understanding, will, and affections — all and only his. “Ye are not your own,” is the very key-note of a Christian’s life.

(3.) By the renedng of the Holy Spirit. They are new creatures in Christ. Those who were withered branches ripe for the burning have been let into the true vine, and have gotten there “newness of life.” “You hath he quickened who were dead in trespasses and sins.” The man has been born again; he “sees the kingdom of God” in grace now, and shall enter it soon.

There is a correspondence between the sovereign gift of God on the one side, and the man’s willing self-surrender on the other. If you are Christ’s, you have been given to him; but there are two givings, — “on either side one, and Jesus in the midst.” There is a giving in heaven and a giving on earth. God the Father gives you to Christ, and you give yourselves. These two fit into each other; they never clash. When an ill-balanced mind stumbles at the decrees of God, and slackens effort, under a leaden dread that effort may be vain, the difficulty lies not in the province of religion. It is a philosophy, falsely so called, intruding into a domain not its own. It has no business here. Cast it out with, “Get thee behind me, Satan.” Repent and believe the gospel. Tui-n and live. There is the command of God; there is the duty of men? To leave that work undone, until we shall by searching find cut the secret things of God, is presumptuo-as disobedience. God is not -wont to arrange the relations of his worlds so that the higher of two correlatives shall clash against the lower, to the destruction of both. How nicely, in nature, marrow fits into its marrow; and will God’s eternal counsel jar against God’s Spirit working repentance in a human heart? Stand on the seashore, and mark the rising tide. How laborious, and steadfast and patient, is its struggle upward and onward! Falling back every moment, every moment it returns to the charge with another and heavier stroke. Gaining this moment a little more than it lost the last, it encroaches slowly, surely on the beach. A planet high in heaven, satellite in waiting on our earth, is meantime gliding noiselessly along its spiral course through space. The struggles of this rising weltering tide, and the course of that silent silver moon, exactly correspond. They never jar. So correspond the covenant purpose of God and those workings in a human soul that culminate in conversion to Christ. As the sea heaves and labom’S, throwing up its unnumbered waves, and pressing on till it reaches the limits of its tidal rising, so a human soul, agonizing for deliverance, puts forth all its energies, according to the laws of its own nature, heaving hither and thither among hopes and fears manifold and changeful as the waves of ocean, in the act of turning from sin and cleaving to Jesus.

Ye are his, beloved, by two givings: The Father gives you, and you give yourselves to Christ; and Christ receives you, and you are his. If you be not Christ’s by yoiu* own willing surrender, you will never be his, apait from

your own will, by divine decree. On high is Almighty power, — below, a willing people; and the blessed result is, ye, — disciples, coming like the dew of the morning, great in number and pure in heart, — “ye are Christ’s!”

2. How he will use his property.

(1.) He will use his own as objects to exercise his kindness on. The good delight in doing good. The merciful love to have the needy within their reach. It is more blessed to give than to receive. That became the word of the Lord Jesus, because it was the experience of his heart. You make a benevolent man imhappy, if you remove the objects, or obstruct the channels of his compassion. The disciple who leaned closest on the breast of Jesus speaks most about little children, and about love. These two words make up a great part of John’s epistles. He took on this tendency from his Lord. Jesus always took delight in the poor, because to satisfy their wants gratified the appetite of his nature. We lose nothing by his ascent to heaven. He is the same, and acts in the same manner still. His own, — little children, he counts and calls them, — his own he uses for his own pleasure, as objects to exercise his tenderness upon.

You may have seen the countenance of a mother, who loves with a mother’s love all her children always, suddenly kindling into a more radiant sunshine when the infant came in sight. You may have observed that the elder children of the family in no wise resent, but rather imitate the mother’s peculiar fondness for the little one. As the infant in a human household are ye, disciples, among the possessions of Christ. All the angels of God worship him; but these angels “excel in strength,” and need not so tender — so mother-like a love. The spirits of the just made perfect own him their Saviour; but they own him in triumphant songs for victory already won. Disciples in the body are the little children of his house, affording him more delight, because draw in from his goodness larger gifts. Christ, in giving grace to his people, is getting delight for himself

(2.) He win use his own as servants to do his work. He has a work to be done in the world, and needs workers. He desires your service, and deserves it. To work willingly is a mark of a true disciple. “Who art thou, Lord? ‘’ is the first question of a convicted, down-stricken man; but when he has gotten an answer in peace to his first question, a second which is like unto it in truth and earnestness, rises as it were instinctively to his lips, ‘’Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?’” The servant, like the master, goeth about doing good. He makes haste to work, for the rest that remaineth may soon appear, and then the opportunity of working will be over.

(3.) He will use his own as living epistles in which the world may read the riches of his grace. When in the concourse of nations proclamation is made, “Come, buy wine and milk,” the strangers and foreigners, besides hearing what Christians say, desire to see what Christianity is. The short way of satisfjdng this demand is to show them a Christian. In this merchandise, as in others, we must sell by samples. If we have no samples to show, we need not expect buyers to offer. In point of fact.

missionaries tell us that, instrumentally, it is to the life which they are enabled to lead in the heathens sight that the decisive success is ultimately due. Ignorant idolaters cannot read and learn Christ from smaller letters than those which a living epistle displays. The characters of Christ’s kingdom must be deeply relieved in the life of its subjects, that the blind who will not see, may be compelled to feel the contact of saving truth. Who is sufficient for this thing? Our sufficiency is of God. “Ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you, and ye shall be witnesses unto me,’’ (Acts i.)

(4.) He will use his own for company at his coming, and for portion evermore. These aspirations, you may think, are too high; you cannot attain to them. You are afraid of extravagance, and think that a humbler flight will better befit your powers. Great saints may possibly reach these transcendental exercises, but you will be content with a meaner place. This is an evil spirit striving to wrap an angel’s garment round its loathsome form. Men would be able to reach a higher standard of hope if they were willing to adopt a higher standard of holiness. Real trust in Christ has, for its other side, real separation from sin. These two rise and fall together by a law, like water in the two upright ends of a bent tube. “Every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself, even as he is pure.” He who will not purify himself cannot affird to let his hope in Christ rise high. Into the bosom of Jesus, spiritually now, or bodily in heaven, nothing shall enter that defile th. He who clings to mammon fights shy of God.

See the operation of this law in some notable examples of Scripture. Felix had a good deal of religion, but it was not of the bright, hopeful, confiding kind; and there was a reason for the fact. His religion made him tremble at the prospect of judgment, yet it permitted him to prostitute justice for a bribe, and to persecute the innocent for popularity, (Acts xxiv.) The lowness on this side caused the lowness on that side, by the laws of nature. Had he been willing, on the one hand, to cast off* the dead weight of his lusts, his spirit, on the other hand, might have risen buoyant above the terrors of the Lord, and reached to rest in the light of his countenance. Again, the religion of the Philippian jailer was like that of Felix in its first stage, but thereafter it reached simultaneously a higher point of hope and a higher point of holiness. He believed to the saving of his soul, and forthwith washed the apostles’ feet. Faith in the Lord Jesus, and love to all the saints, rose together, and at an equal rate, in that tamed, renewed heart. Once more, the same law may be seen in the experience of Paul himself In him the bud of hope burst into the bloom of triumph before the time. He counted confidently on a crown of gloiy, and that to be set upon his head soon by the own hand of the righteous Judge. Such and so high was the great apostle’s trust; the other side of this man, accordingly, — the side of sufiering, and doing, and separating from sin, — rose in unison to an equal height. As his heart was more hopeful than others, his hand was more diligent in serving God and saving men.

Here is one of the laws of the kingdom: He who takes little from Christ, will do little for Christ. The higher that hope rises in your soul, if it come in the channel of the covenant, the faster will obedience flow in your life.” Ye are Christ’s! ‘^ Is it so? Then, if but a little vein should give way within, or that busy heart should cease its beating, the next moment you would be with Christ upon his throne. Those who cherish such a hope cannot live for the world; those who live for the world dare not cherish such a hope.

III. “All tilings are yours.” Here is a right royal promise. The shout of a king is in the camp of Christians. All the fulness of the Godhead bodily has been treasured up in Christ, expressly that it may be within the reach of his people. Although the chief term is absolutely universal, we are not left to our own imagination for the details of the inventory. A brief and comprehensive list is furnished to our hand:” Whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world,^’ &c.

1. The ministry. While the grant, as suits the dignity of the Almighty Giver, is absolutely universal, it is evident that one particular article in the dowry of the bride bulked above others, at that time, in the narrator’s mind, and burst out full-bodied in his letter — the ministry as the gift of the risen Head, and the heritage of his chosen people. Not the greatest of Christ’s gifts, in their o^nx intrinsic value, but appearing the largest at the moment, as occupying the foreground of the view, foremost in the list of possessions belonging to the King’s children, come Paul, and Apollos, and Cephas, ministers through whom they had believed. The variety of the provision, as well as its inherent worth, reveals the heart and hand of a Father. The full-bodied doctrinal teaching of Paul, the melting and arousing eloquence of the less profound Apollos, and the abrupt, fiery energy of Peter, — all are gladly recognised as a wisely mingled provision from the hand of that Father in heaven, who paints the rose and the violet of different hues but equal loveliness. Blessed are they that hunger. One of their blessings is, that the discriminating instincts of their new nature silently repudiate the ministry which, under any disguise, offers them a stone, and taste the sweetness of the living bread, whether ten talents be invested in breaking it, or only one.

But, besides the bounty of the Giver, the liberty of the receivers also is sealed and signalized in this text. Paul, and Apollos, and Cephas are yours, — not ye theirs. Here is one of the marks which distinguish Christ from Antichrist, and one of the reasons why the Romish priesthood conceal from the people the word of God. In Rome the ministers have the people; here, the people have the ministers. Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty. The Bible is the charter of freedom alike to the nations and to the Church. While it demands absolute submission to Christ, it does not compel — it does not permit a Christian to receive his law from any other master. Let us use it, and not abuse it, lest in judgment it be taken away. The ministry is an article in the inventory of a Christian’s goods. Ministers are vessels, chosen and prepared for containing the bread of life, and distributing it among the children of the kingdom. They are the Lord’s gifts to the heirs, not lords over the heritage.

Here the list suddenly leaps into larger dimensions.

2. “The world/“* The world on a Christian’s side! “We thought it was one of his chief foes. So it is. There is no contradiction here, and no confusion. The world, under direction of its god, wars against the soul. But our Father in heaven holds that enemy in the hollow of his hand, and compels it, in his own time and way, to serve his sons. The world is a birthplace for the new creature, and an exercise ground for invigorating the spiritual life. The very fires of temptation which the wicked one kindles to destroy the heirs, are employed by the love and power of the Spirit to heat the furnace in which their dross is purged away, that they may be meet for the inheritance. Mark the world as the property of the King’s sons.

8. “Life.” This life is precious in many ways to a Christian. When it is redeemed from vanity, he enjoys it much for itself, and more for its relation to another. If he had nothing more, it would be, indeed, a poor portion. It would be like the root of a tree under ground, where there is no tree. The fibres in the earth might have some sensations of life for a time, but they would soon rot away into kindred dust. Yet the root under ground is most precious where it is the root of a towering, fruitful tree. Such is life here in the body since sin has come into the world. It is low and mean if it has nothing above and beyond itself; but to the new creature in Christ it is the root on which an eternal life grows. The life that began under the ground in darkness shall rear its head into the heavens, and bear its fruit in the presence of God. The natural life is indeed corrupt, but over its corrupt root the new nature is erigrafted, and so this lower earthly life becomes the root of a spiritual life in heaven. Life in the body possesses an unspeakable worth to the man who, being in Christ, lives anew, and lives for ever. Life in the root under ground is most precious, if out of it and over it, through the renewing of the Spirit, rise the life of grace, and the life in glory.

4. “Death.” It seems to be a difficult lesson even for true disciples to learn, that death is on their side. The understanding may, indeed, soon be convinced, but no decision of the judgment can quell the heart’s antipathy to that dread messenger. It seems an instinct of humanity to shrink with loathing from the serpent s touch, even when we know that the serpent has been deprived of his sting. The steps of the process seem to be the same with Christians in their own case, as it was with the twelve in regard to the dying of their Lord. Jesus, as we learn from the evangelists, three different times told them plainly that he must soon suffer death. The first time they were very angry; Peter rebuked him, and said, “Far be this from thee, Lord.” The second time they were very sorrowful. The third time they seem to have received the intimation in silence. I suppose a Christian who has at last gotten the victory, could, in the hour of his departure, give a similar history of his own experience. In childhood, when first the certainty of death began to break into his mind, he raged violently against it: afterwards he was solidly convinced of its truth and necessity, but the prospect made him very sorrowful; but now, when it is near, he meets it calmly, if not joyfully, as the dark, narrow door in the partition wall between time and eternity, through which the children are led from the place of exile into the mansions of the Father s house.

5. “Things present or things to come.” These are not now separate and additional constituents of the believer’s portion, but a concluding repetition of the whole. All things are yours, Christians, in virtue of your union to Christ, whether they lie within the horizon of time, or beyond it in the unseen eternity. Some of the things present have already been enumerated as the sure heritage of the saints; the things to come are thrown into the same scale. Here, however, our exposition must be brought to a close. We have reached now those things that no ear hath heard, and no tongue can tell. Be still and know that he is God. Whatsoever the Father owns becomes the portion of the children.

I once heard a father tell, that when he removed his family to a new residence where the accommodation was much more ample, and the substance much more rich and varied than that to which they had previously been accustomed, his youngest son, yet a lisping infant, ran round every room and scanned every article with ecstacy, calling out in childish wonder at every new sight, “Is this ours, father? and is this ours?” The child did not say “yours;” and I observed that the father while he told the story was not offended with the freedom. You could read in his glistening eye that the infant’s confidence in appropriating as his own all that his father had, was an important element in his satisfaction.

Such, I suppose, will be the surprise, and joy, and appropriating confidence with which the child of our Father’s family will count all his own when he is removed from the comparatively mean condition of things present, and enters the infinite of things to come. When the glories of heaven burst upon his view, he does not stand at a distance like a stranger, saying, 0 God, these are thine. He bounds forward to touch and taste every provision which those blessed mansions contain, exclaiming, as he looks in the Father’s face, Father, this and this is ours. The dear child is glad of all the Father’s riches, and the Father is gladder of his dear child.