Retrospect and Forecast
1 Corinthians xi. 24, 26 v.
“This do in remembrance of Me.” “Ye do show the Lord’s death till He come.”
What is the motive assigned for keeping this feast? Is it something in the past or something in the future? It is both; the avenue is lighted at each of the gates. There is an illumination of the past, “This do in remembrance of Me “; and there is an illumination of the future, “Ye do show the Lord’s death till He come.” Do you deem it strange that the mind should be drawn by two such opposite motives? Is it not ever so with our memorials of the departed? When you go to put flowers upon a grave, what is the motive that prompts you? — to keep memory green? Doubtless; but is that all? Why do you wish to keep memory green? It is because you are looking forward as well as backward. You are convinced the old days will come again. If it were not for that hope, you could not plant your flower; you would rather let memory wither. Some have written of the pleasures of memory, and some of the pleasures of hope. But has it occurred to either that the pleasures of memory are the pleasures of hope? Has it occurred to either that these are twin sisters, who cannot live apart? When hope dies, memory cries out to be killed; she cannot abide alone. When memory goes with her flowers to the grave, hope calls from the shadowy land, “Occupy till I come.” If she did not hear that call, she could not plant her flower. My Lord tells me that when I build to His past I am prompted by His future. It is the light of Easter morn that leads me to the sepulchre; it is the gleam of resurrection that conducts me to the broken body, “As often as ye eat this bread, ye do show the Lord’s death till He come.”
Therefore, my soul, be strong. When there comes over thee the impulse to keep thy memory green, remember it is from life, not death, that the impulse comes. Memory may plant the flower, but hope selects it. No tribute of thy heart was ever paid to the dead; that which thou lovest is to thee always alive. It may seem an act of pure remembrance; but its mainspring is not remembrance. Its mainspring is the belief that the days will come back again. It is not the broken body that thou seest; it is the body unbroken once more. It is not the cross thou beholdest; it is the cross superseded. It is not the grave-clothes on which thou gazest; it is the grave-clothes bound in a napkin. It is not the stone on the sepulchre thou markest; it is the angel sitting on the stone. Thy voluntary remembrance is an unconscious prophecy j thy night is seen by the coming day.