He Will Come to Judge the Quick and the Dead

The Throne and the Congregation

It is described as “‘a great white throne” (Rev. xx. 11). Great, because of the momentous nature of the issues to be settled there. Great because of the vast congregation that shall be gathered there, angels from heaven, men from the first man to the last, demons from the pit, an audience that shall assemble only once. Great, because of its contrast with all other thrones that shall have been reared throughout the whole course of time. Great, because connected with the final winding up of Time, and the entrance on Eternity.

It is also a white Throne. White, because immaculately pure. There have been plenty of thrones, either black or crimson: black with the crimes of their occupants, or crimson with the blood through which they have been won; but that throne shall be white with the stainless character of the Judge and the immaculate justice

of His decisions. Against the burning purity 160 of that throne, all evil will stand revealed in its true nature.

Pass on to notice the Assembly at the Bar. “The angels that kept not their first estate, but left their own habitation, hath He reserved in everlasting chains, under darkness, unto the judgment of the last day!” They shall be there, compelled to witness the triumph of Him whom once they challenged in impious and futile war.

All nations of men shall be there, the quick, i.e., those living when the Last Judgment is set, and the dead, i.e. all who are in their graves, shall hear His Voice, and come forth. From the sands of sultry deserts, where toiling caravans have sunk down to. die; from wintry wastes of ice and snow, where, wrapt in white winding-sheets, the sleeper has slept his last sleep; from the crypt of the stately abbey, from the crowded city cemetery, from the caves and dens of the earth, from ancient pyramids and mausoleums, the dead shall come to judgment.

The sea shall give up its dead; the myriads of sleepers who have gone down in its silent caves, in storm, in battle, or in shipwreck, shall emerge from the abysmal depths, and hasten to be judged.

Death and Hades shall be unlocked by Him, at whose girdle hang their keys, and shall disgorge their victims to swell the mighty mass. Babylon, Jerusalem, Rome, London, New York, will pour forth their myriads. Marathon, Waterloo, and Sedan will start to life, and their squadrons march to that bar. Not one unit of the human family, no shrivelled leaf, no blighted fruit, no tiniest twig will be missing.

A man may evade the summons of an earthly court, but there will be no possibility of evading the warrant of that bar. It is possible to discover a sanctuary, where the human apparitor of justice fails to follow the criminal, but man has never discovered the spot where God is not. The ocean-depths, coral-reefs, and waving sea-weed tresses cry, “God is here;” “the depths of the sea are His also.” The pendent crystals of gloomy caverns cry, “It is useless coming here to escape God, see — we are His workshop.” Vales never trodden by human foot point to ferns, and flowers, and moss to attest the Divine Presence. Before the commonest acacia-bush in the desert waste, man has to take the shoes from off his feet, because the place is holy ground. No, there is no escaping God. “The small and great must stand before Him.” When the roll is called, each child of our race will have to answer, Here!

Ah! vast assembly! Here will be a spectacle of Grandeur and Sublimity which Eternity itself can witness only once!