The Preparation of Man’s Dwelling-Place

John xiv. 2 v.

“In My Father’s house are many mansions... I go to prepare a place for you.”

We have here the telescope and the microscope. The one reveals the vast places of the universe — the many mansions of the Father; the other fixes upon a unit in the void, “I go to prepare a place for you.” Often have I been startled by the vastness of that sea in which my little life is moviug; I seem but a speck amid myriad waves. Yet, it is not the distance that startles me. If you could give me wings by which in a moment I could reach the end of the universe, it would not bring me one step nearer rest. I want to know what is at the end of the universe. Is there a human soul there? Is there anything that can respond to my spirit? Is there aught that can love when I love, weep when I weep, joy when I joy? Is there a pulse of sympathy that can answer to the pulse of my heart? Is there a place prepared for me? I cannot get that place by going over the bridge; I can only get it by some one going over before me. What I want is a heart already there, a kindred soul to meet me, a human life to greet me. The “going before” is itself the “preparing.” I want no gorgeous furniture in my room of the Father’s house. I am afraid the furniture may be too gorgeous. I want something homely — like home. I seek an old glance of the eve, an old ring of the voice, an old clasp of the hand. I seek the ancient sympathy that has linked man to man, the earthly love that has knit heart to heart, the human trust that has bound life to life. I seek in eternity the image of time; that is the place I would have prepared for me.

Let not thy heart be troubled; in the vast spaces there is a home for thee. The Son of Man has gone before; there is a region prepared for humanity. There is a spot in this stupendous universe where human nature dwells. That spot is thy one comfort, thy one glory. No other glory would make up for it. There may be golden streets and pearly gates and sapphire thrones. There may be rivers clear as crystal, and. trees rich in foliage, and flowers full of bloom. There may be suns that never set, and hands that never weary, and lives that never die. But about these many things thy heart is not troubled. One thing is needful, without which all were vain — the sympathy of a brother’s soul. Content mayst thou be to have no revealing of the many lights in the upper chamber, since thou hast been allowed to gaze on one glimmering light of love — “I go to prepare a place for you.”