The Clouded Vision
[Delivered in Athens, Greece, November 24,
Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard I Cor., il, 9, *For now we see through a glass darkly.’ I Cor., xiii, 12.
THE ILLUSTRIOUS PAUL.
OTH these sentences were written by the mOst illustrious merely human being the world ever saw, one who walked these streets, and preached from yonder pile of rocks. Mars Hill. Though more classic associations are connected with this city than with any city under the sun, because here Socrates, and Plato, and Aristotle, and Demosthenes, and Pericles, and Heroditus, and Pythagoras, and Xenophon, and Praxiteles wrote or chiseled, or taught or thundered or sung, yet in my mind all those men and their teachings were eclipsed by Paul and the Gospel he preached in this city and in your talmage’s sermons.
nearby city of Corinth. Yesterday, standing on the old fortress at Corinth, the Acro-Corinthus, out from the ruins at is base arose in my imagination the old city, just as Paul saw it.
THE SPLENDOR OF ANCIENT CORINTH.
I have been told that, for splendor the world beholds no such wonder today as that ancient Corinth standing on an isthmus washed by two seas, the one sea bringing the commerce of Europe, the other sea bringing the commerce of Asia. From her wharves, in the construction of which whole kingdoms had been absorbed, war galleys with three banks of oars pushed out and confounded the navy yards of all the world. Huge handed machinery, such as modern invention cannot equal, lifted ships from the sea on one side and transported them on trucks across the isthmus and sat them down in the sea on the other side. The revenue officers of the city went down through the olive groves that lined the beach to collect a tariff from all nations. The mirth of all people sported in her Isthmain games, and the beauty of all lands sat in her theatres, walked her porticos and threw itself on the altar of her stupendous dissipations. Column, and statue, and temple bewildered the beholder. There were white marble fountains, into which, from apertures at the side, there gushed waters everywhere known for health giving qualities. Around these basins, twisted into wreaths of stone, there were all the beauties of sculpture and architecture; while standing, as if to guard the costly display, was a statue of Hercules of burnished Corinthian brass. Vases of terra cotta adorned the cemeteries of the dead — vases so ( ostly that Julius Caesar was not satisfied until he had capttird tjieni for Rome Arme(3| officiali the corithian, paced Up and down to see that no statue was defaced, or pedestal overthrown, no bas-reUef touched. From the edge of the city the hill held its magnificent burden of columns and to wers and temples (l,000slaves waiting at one shrine), and a citadel so thoroughly impregnable that Gibraltar is a heap of sand compared with it. Amid all that strength and magnificence Corinth stood and defied the world.
PAUL ADDRESSED THE HIGHEST CULTURE.
Oh! it was not to rustics who had never seen anything grand that Paul uttered one of my texts. They had heard the best music that had come from the best instruments in all the world; they had heard songs floating from morning porticos and melting in evening groves; they had past their whole lives among pictures and sculpture and architecture and Corinthian brass, which had been molded and shaped until there was no .chariot wheel in which it had not sped, and no tower in which it had not glittereu, and no gateway that it had not adorned. Ah, it was a bold thing for Paul to stand there amid all that and say: ALL this is nothing. These sounds that come from the temple of Neptune are not music compared with the harmonies of which I speak. These waters rushing in the basin of Pyrene are not pure. These statues of Bacchus and Mercury are not exquisite. Your citadel of Acro-Corinthus is not strong compared with that which I offer to the poorest slave that puts down his burden at that brazen gate. You Corinthians think this is a splendid city; you think you have heard all sweet sounds and seen all beautiful sights; but I tell you eye hath not seen nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God Imth prepared for them that loy Wm.
talmage’s sermons.
deed both my texts, the one spoken by Paul and the one written by Paul, show us that we have very imperfect eyesight, and that our day of vision is yet to come: for now we see through a glass, darkly, but then face to face. So Paul takes the responsibility of saying that even the Bible is an indistinct mirror, and that its mis- * sion shall be finally suspended.
I think there may be one Bible in heaven fastened to the throne. Just as now, in a museum, we have a lamp exhumed from Herculaneum or Nineveh, and we look at it with great interest and say: ‘’How poor a light it must have given, compared with our modern lamps, so I think that this Bible, which was a lamp to our feet in this world, may lie near the throne of God, exciting our interest to all eternity by the contrast between its comparatively feeble light and the illumination of heaven. The Bible, now, is the scaffolding to the rising temple, but when the building is done there will be no use for the scaffolding.
OUR DIM VISION WILL GROW BRIGHTER.
The idea I shall develope today is, that in this world our knowledge is comparatively dim and unsatisfactory, but nevertheless is introductory to grander and more complete vision.
THIS IS TRUE OF OUR KNOWLEDGE OF GOD.
This is eminently true in regard to our view of God. We hear so much about God that we conclude that we understand him. He is represented as having the tenderness of a father, the firmness of a judge, the pomp of a king and the love of a mother. We hear about him, talk about him, write about him. We lisp his name in infancy, and it trembles on the tongue of the dying
THE CLOUDED YlSiOX octogenarian. We think that we know very much about him. Take the attribute of mercy. Do we understand it? The Bible blossoms all over with that word, mercy. It speaks again and again of the tender mercies of God, of the sure mercies, of the great mercies, of the mercies that endureth for ever, of the multitude of his mercies. And yet I know that the views we have of this great being are most indefinite, one sided and incomplete. When, at death, the gates shall fly open, and we shall look directly upon him, how new and surprising.
We see upon canvas a picture of the morning. We study the cloud in the sky, the dew upon the grass, and the husbandman- on the way to the field. Beautiful picture of the morning! But we arise at daybreak, and go up on a hill to see for ourselves that which was represented to us. While we look, the mountains are transfigured. The burnished gates of heaven swing open and shut, to let pass a host of fiery splendors. The clouds are abloom, and hang pendant from arbors of alabaster and amethyst. The waters make pathway of inlaid pearl for the light to walk upon; and there is morning on the sea. The crags uncover their scarred visage; and there is morning among the mountains. Now you go home, and how tame your picture of the morning seems in contrast? Greater than that shall be the contrast between this scriptural view of God and that which we shall have when standing face to face. This is a picture of the morning; that will be the morning itself.
AND TRUE OF THE SAVIOUR’S EXCELLENCY.
Again: My texts are true of the Saviour’s excellency. By image, and sweet rhythm of expression, and start- ‘TALMAGE^S SERMONS.
ling antitheses, Christ is set forth — his love, his compassion, his work, his life, his death, his resurrection. We are challenged to measure it, to compute it, to weigh it. In the hour of our broken enthrallment, we mount up into high experience of his love, and shout until the countenance glows, and the blood bounds, and the whole nature is exhilarated. have found him.’’ And yet it is through a glass, darkly. We see not half of that compassionate face. We feel not half the warmth of that loving heart. We wait for death to let us rush into his outspread arms. Then we shall be face to face. Not shadow then, but substance. Not hope then, but the fulfilling of all prefigurement. That will be a magnificent unfolding.
The rushing out in view of all hidden excellency; the coming again of a long-absent Jesus to meet us — not in rags and in penury and death, but amidst a light and pomp and outburs ting joy such as none but a glorified intelligence could experience. Oh! to gaze full upon the brow that was lacerated, upon the side that was pierced, upon the feet that were nailed; to stand close up in the presence of him who prayed for us on the mountain, and thought of us by sea, and agonized for ns in the garden, and died for us in horrible crucifixion; to feel of him, to embrace him, to take his hand, to kiss his feet, to run our fingers along the scars of ancient suffering; to say: ‘’This is my Jesus! He gave himself for me. I shall forever behold his glory. I shall eternally hear his voice. Lord Jesus, now I see thee. I behold where the blood started, where the tears coursed, where the face was distorted. I have waited for this hour. I shall never turn my back on thee. No more looking through imperfect glasses. No more studying thee in the darkness. But, as long as this throne stands, and this everlasting talmage’s sermons.
river fic ws, and those gariands bloom, and these afehes of victory remain to greet home heavens conquerors, so long I shall see thee, Jesus of my choice; Jesus of my song; Jesus of my triumph — forever and forever — face toface!^’
GOD’S PROVIDENCES NOT UNDERSTOOD FULLY
NOW, BUT WILL BE HEREAFTER.
The idea of my texts is just as true when applied to God’s providence. Who has not come to some pass in life thoroughly inexplicable? You say: “What does this mean? What is God going to do with me now? He tells me that all things work together for good. This -does not look like it.” You continue to study the dispensation, and after a while guess about what God means. “He means to teach me this. I think he means to teach me that. Perhaps it is to humble my pride. Perhaps it is to make me feel more dependent. Perhaps to teach me the uncertainty of life.” But after all, it is only a guess — a looking through the glass, darkly. The Bible assures us there shall be a satisfactory unfolding. “What I do thou kno west not now; but thou shalt know hereafter.” You will know why God took to himself that only child. Next door there was a household of seven children. Why not take one from that group, instead of your only one? Why single out the dwelling in which there was only one heart beating responsive to yours? Why did God give you a child at all, if he meant to take it away? Why fill the cup of your gladness brimming, if he meant to dash it down? Why allow all the tendrils of your heart to wind around that object, and then, when every fiber of your own life seemed to be interlocked with the child’s life, with strong hand to tear you apart, until you fall bleeding and crushed, your dwelling desolate, your hopes blasted, your heart broken? Do you suppose that God will explain that? Yea. He will make it plainer than any mathematical problem — as plain as that two and two make four. In the light of the throne you will see that it was right — all right. ’ ‘Just and true are all thy ways, thou King of saints.^’
PROVIDENTIAL HINDRANCES IN LIFE.
Here is a man who cannot get on in the world. He always seems to buy at the wrong time and to sell at the worst disadvantage. He tries this enterprise, and fails; that business, and is disappointed. The man next door to him has a lucrative trade, but he lacks customers. A new prospect opens. His income is increased. But that year his family are sick; and the profits are expended in trying to cure the ailments. He gets a discouraged look. Becomes faithless as to success. Begins to expect disasters. Others wait for something to turn up; he waits for it to turndown. Others, with only half as much education and character, get on twice as well. He sometimes guesses as to what it all means. He says: ‘Terhaps riches would spoil me. Perhaps poverty is necessary to keep me humble. Perhaps I might, if things were otherwise, be tempted into dissipations.*’ But there is no complete solution of the mystery. He sees through a glass, darkly, and must wait for a higher unfolding. Will there be an explanation? Yes; God will take that man in the light of the throne, and say: “Child immortal, hear the explanation! You remember the failing of that great enterprise. This is the explanation,” And you will answer: *Mt is all right!’’ talmage’s sermons.
I see, every day, profound mysteries of Providence. There is no question we ask oftener than Why? There are hundreds of graves that need to be explained. Hospitals for the blind and lame, asylums for the idiotic and insane, almshouses for the destitute, and a world of pain and misfortune that demand more than human solution. Ah! God will clear it all up. In the light that pours from the throne, no dark mystery can live.
Things now utterly inscrutable will be illumined as plainly as if the answer were written on the jasper wall, or sounded in the temple anthem. Bartimeus will thank God that he was blind; and Lazarus that he was covered with sores; and Joseph that he was cast into the pit; and Daniel that he denned with lions; and Paul that he was humpbacked; and David that he was driven from Jerusalem; and the sewing-woman that she could only get a few pence for making a garment; and that invalid that for twenty years he could not lift his head from the pillow; and that widow that she had such hard work to earn bread for her children. You know that in a song different voices carry different parts. The sweet and overwhelming part of the hallelujah of heaven will not be carried by those who rode in high places, and gave sumptuous entertainments; but pauper children will sing it, beggars will sing it,! redeemed hod-carriers will sing it, those who were, once the ofifscouring of earth will sing it. The hal- |Jelujah will be all the grander for the earth’s weeping I eyes, and aching heads, and exhausted hands, and scourged back, and martyred agonies.
HOW MANY SHALL BE SAVED? Again: The thought of my texts is true when applied to tle enjoyment of the righteous in heaven, I think havt but Uttk idaofth wmlKr of ngfet<?QU$i in heaveti. Infidels say: ‘’Your heaven will be a very small place compared with the world of the lost; for, according to your teaching, the majority of men will be destroyed.’’ I deny the charge. I suppose that the multitude of the finally lost, as compared with the multitude of the finally saved, will be a hand full. I suppose that the few sick people in the hospitals of our great cities, as compared with the hundreds of thousands of well people, would not be smaller than the number of those who shall be cast out in suffering, compared with those who shall have upon them the health of heaven. For we are to remember that we are living in only the beginning of the Christian dispensation, and that this whole world is to be populated and redeemed, and that ages of light and love are to flow on. If this be so, the multitudes of the saved will be in vast majority. Take all the congregations that have assembled for worship throughout Christendom. Put them together, and they would make but a small audience compared with the thousands and tens of thousands, and ten thousand times ten thousands, and the hundred and forty and four thousand that shall stand around the throne. Those flashed up to heaven in martyr fires; those tossed for many years upon the invalid couch; those fought in the armies of liberty and rose as they fell; those tumbled from high scaffolding or slipped from the mast, or were washed off into the sea. They came up from Corinth, from Laodicea, from the Red Sea bank and Gennesaret’s wave, from Egyptian brick- yards, and Gideon’s threshing floor. Those thousands of years ago slept the last sleep, and these are this moment having their eyes closed, and their limbs stretched out for the sepulcher. A general, expecting an attack from the enemy stands taLMace’s sermons.
on a hill and looks through a field glass, and sees, in the great distance, nitdtitudes approaching, but has no idea of their numbers. He says: cannot tell anything about them. I merely know that there are a great number.’’ And so John, without attempting to count, says: * ‘A great multitude that no man can number.’’ We are told that heaven is a place of happiness but what do we know about happiness? Happiness in this world is only a half fledged thing, flowery path, with a serpent hissing across it; a broken pitcher, from which the water has dropped before we could drink it; a thrill of exhilaration, followed by disastrous reactions. To help us understand the joy of heaven, the Bible takes us to a river. We stand on the grassy bank. We see the waters flow on with ceaseless wave. But the filth of the cities is emptied into it, and the banks are torn,, and unhealthy exhalations spring up from it, and we fail to get an idea of the river of life in heaven.
A GLORIOUS AND EVERLASTING REUNION.
We get very imperfect ideas of the reunions of heaven. We think of some festal day on earth, when father and mother were yet living, and the children come home. A good time that! But it had this drawback — all were not there. That brother went off* to sea, and never was; heard from. That sister — did we not lay her away ini the freshness of her young life, never more in this world to look upon her? Ah! there was a skeleton at the feast: and tears mingled with our laughter on that Christmas day. Not so with heaven’s reunions. It will be an uninterrupted gladness. Many a Christian parent will look around and find all his children there. ‘’Ah!” he says, ‘’can it be possible that we are all here, life’s perils over? The Jordan passed and not one wanting? Why, even the prodigal is here. I almost gave him up. How long he despised my counsels! but grace hath triumphed. All here! all here! Tell the mighty joy through the city. Let the bells ring, and the angels mention it in their song. Wave it from the top of the walls. All here!’^
No more breaking of heart strings, but face to face. The orphans that were left poor, and in a merciless world, kicked and cuffed of many hardships, shall join their parents over whose graves they so long wept, and gaze into their glorified countenances forever, face to face. We may come up from different parts of the world, one from the land and another from the depths of the sea; from lives affluent and prosperous, or from scenes of ragged distress; but we shall all meet in rapture and jubilee, face to face.
Many of our friends have entered on that joy. A few days ago they sat with us study ing these gospel themes; but they only saw dimly — now revelation hath come. Your time will also come. God will not leave you floundering in the darkness. You stand wonder struck and amazed. You feel as if all the loveliness of life were dashed out. You stand gazing into the open chasm of the grave. Wait a little. In the presence of your departed and of him who carries them in his bosom, you shall soon stand face to face. Oh! that our last horr may kindle up with this promised joy! May we be able to say, like the Christian not long ago, departing: ‘’Though a pilgrim walking through the valley, the mountain tops are gleaming from peak to peak!’’ or, like my dear friend and brother, Alfred Cookman, who took his flight to the throne of God, saying in his last moment that which has already gone into Christian (Classics: ^’I am sweeping through the pearly gate, washed in the blood of the Lamb!’’