CHAP. X. The Saint's Rest is not to be expected on Earth (3)

§ 19. (III.) The next thing to be considered is, our unreasonable unwillingness to die that we may possess the saint's rest. We linger, like Lot in Sodom, till the Lord, being merciful unto us, doth pluck us away against our wills. I confess that death of itself is not desirable; but the soul's rest with God is, to which death is the common passage. Because we are apt to make light of this sin, let me set before you its nature and remedy in a variety of considerations. As for instance,—It has in it much infidelity. If we did but verily believe, that the promise of this glory is the word of God, and that God doth truly mean as he speaks, and is fully resolved to make it good; if we did verily believe, that there is indeed such blessedness prepared for believers; surely we should be as impatient of living, as we are now fearful of dying, and should think every day a year till our last day should come. Is it possible that we can truly believe, that death will remove us from misery to such glory, and yet be loth to die? If the doubts of our own interest in that glory make us fear, yet a true belief of the certainty and excellency of this rest would make us restless till our title to it be cleared. Though there is much faith and Christianity in our mouths, yet there is much infidelity and paganism in our hearts, which is the chief cause that we are so loth to die. It is also much owing to the coldness of our love. If we love our friend, we love his company; his presence is comfortable, his absence is painful, when he comes to us we entertain him with gladness; when he dies, we mourn, and usually over mourn. To be separated from a faithful friend, is like the rending a member from our body. And would not our desires after God be such, if we really loved him? Nay, should it not be much more than such, as he is above all friends most lovely? May the Lord teach us to look closely to our hearts, and take heed of self-deceit in this point! Whatever we pretend, if we love either father, mother, husband, wife, child, friend, wealth, or life itself more than Christ, we are yet none of his sincere disciples. When it comes to the trial, the question will not be, who hath preached most, or heard most, or talked most; but, who hath loved most? Christ will not take sermons, prayers, fastings, no, nor the giving our goods, nor the burning our bodies, instead of love. And do we love him, and yet care not how long we are from him? Was it such a joy to Jacob to see the face of Joseph in Egypt? and shall we be contented without the sight of Christ in glory, and yet say we love him? I dare not conclude, that we have no love at all, when we are so loth to die; but I dare say, were our love more, we should die more willingly. If this holy flame were thoroughly kindled in our breasts, we should cry out with David, As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God; when shall I come and appear before God?—By our unwillingness to die, it appears we are little weary of sin. Did we take sin for the greatest evil, we should not be willing to have its company so long. "O foolish, sinful heart! Hast thou been so long a cage of all unclean lusts, a fountain incessantly streaming forth the bitter waters of transgression, and art thou not yet weary? Wretched soul! Hast thou been so long wounded in all thy faculties, so grievously languishing in all thy performances, so fruitful a soil of all iniquities, and art thou not yet more weary? Wouldst thou still lie under thy imperfections? Hath thy sin proved so profitable a commodity, so necessary a companion, such a delightful employment, that thou dost so much dread the parting day? May not God justly grant thee thy wishes and seal thee a lease of thy desired distance from him, and nail thy ears to these doors of misery, and exclude thee eternally from his glory?"—It shews that we are insensible of the vanity of the creature, when we are so loth to hear or think of a removal. "Ah foolish, wretched soul! doth every prisoner groan for freedom? and every slave desire his jubilee? and every sick man long for health? and every hungry man for food? and dost thou alone abhor deliverance? Doth the sailor wish to see the land? Doth the husbandman desire the harvest, and the laborer to receive his pay? Doth the traveller long to be at home, and the racer to win the prize, and the soldier to win the field? and art thou loth to see thy labors finished, and to receive the end of thy faith and sufferings? Have thy griefs been only dreams? If they were, yet methinks thou shouldst not be afraid of waking. Or is it not rather the world's delights that are all mere dreams and shadows? Or is the world become of late more kind? We may, at our peril, reconcile ourselves to the world, but it will never reconcile itself to us. O unworthy soul! who hadst rather dwell in this land of darkness, and wander in this barren wilderness, than be at rest with Jesus Christ! who hadst rather stay among the wolves, and daily suffer the scorpion's stings, than praise the Lord with the host of heaven!"

§ 20. This unwillingness to die, doth actually impeach us of high treason against the Lord. Is it not choosing of earth before him, and taking present things for our happiness, and consequently making them our very God? If we did indeed make God our end, our rest, our portion, our treasure, how is it possible but we should desire to enjoy him?—It moreover discovers some dissimulation. Would you have any man believe you, when you call the Lord your only hope, and speak of Christ as all in all, and of the joy that is in his presence, and yet would endure the hardest life, rather than die, and enter into his presence? What self-contradiction is this, to talk so hardly of the world, and the flesh, to groan and complain of sin and suffering; and yet fear no day more than that, which we expect should bring our final freedom? What hypocrisy is this, to profess to strive and fight for heaven, which we are loth to come to; and spend one hour after another in prayer, for that which we would not have?—— Hereby we wrong the Lord and his promises, and disgrace his ways in the eyes of the world. As if we would persuade them to question, whether God be true to his word or no? Whether there be any such glory as the Scripture mentions? When they see those so loth to leave their hold of present things, who have professed to live by faith, and have boasted of their hopes in another world, and spoken disgracefully of all things below, in comparison of things above; how doth this confirm the world in their unbelief and sensuality? "Sure," say they, "if these professors did expect so much glory, and make so light of the world as they seem, they would not themselves be so loth to change." O how are we ever able to repair the wrong which we do to God and souls by this scandal? And what an honor to God, what a strengthening to believers, what a conviction to unbelievers, would it be, if Christians in this did answer their professions, and cheerfully welcome the news of rest.—It also evidently shews, that we have spent much time to little purpose. Have we not had all our lifetime to prepare to die? So many years to make ready for one hour, and are we so unready and unwilling yet? What have we done? Why have we lived? Had we any greater matters to mind? Would we have wished for more frequent warnings? How oft hath death entered the habitations of our neighbors? How oft hath it knocked at our own doors? How many distempers have vexed our bodies, that we have been forced to receive the sentence of death? And are we unready and unwilling after all this? O careless, dead-hearted sinners! unworthy neglecters of God's warnings! faithless betrayers of our own souls!

§ 21. Consider, not to die, is, never to be happy; to escape death, is, to miss of blessedness; except God should translate us, as Enoch and Elijah; which he never did before, or since. If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable. If you would not die, and go to heaven, what would you have more than an epicure, or a beast? Why do we pray, and fast, and mourn? Why do we suffer the contempt of the world? Why are we Christians, and not Pagans and Infidels, if we do not desire a life to come? Wouldst thou lose thy faith and labor, Christian, all thy duties and sufferings, all the end of thy life, and all the blood of Christ, and be contented with the portion of a worldling or a brute? Rather say, as one did on his death-bed, when he was asked whether he was willing to die or no, "Let him be loth to die, who is loth to be with Christ."

Is God willing by death to glorify us, and are we unwilling to die, that we may be glorified? Methinks, if a prince were willing to make you his heir, you would scarce be unwilling to accept it; the refusing such a kindness would discover ingratitude and unworthiness. As God hath resolved against them, who make excuses when they should come to Christ, none of those men, which were bidden, shall taste of my supper; so it is just with him to resolve against us, who frame excuses when we should come to glory. The Lord Jesus was willing to come from heaven to earth for us, and shall we be unwilling to remove from earth to heaven for ourselves and him? He might have said, "What is it to me, if these sinners suffer? If they value their flesh above their spirits, and their lust above my Father's love, if they will sell their souls for nought, who is it fit should be the loser? Should I, whom they have wronged? Must they wilfully transgress my law, and I undergo their deserved pain? Must I come down from heaven to earth, and clothe myself with human flesh, be spit upon and scorned by man, and fast, and weep, and sweat, and suffer, and bleed, and die a cursed death; and all this for wretched worms, who would rather hazard their souls, than forbear one forbidden morsel? Do they cast away themselves so slightly, and must I redeem them so dearly?" Thus we see Christ had reason enough to have made him unwilling; and yet did he voluntarily condescend. But we have no reason against our coming to him; except we will reason against our hopes, and plead for the perpetuity of our own calamities. Christ came down to fetch us up; and would we have him lose his blood and labor, and go again without us? Hath he bought our rest at so dear a rate? Is our inheritance purchased with his blood? And are we, after all this, loth to enter? Ah, Sirs! it was Christ, and not we, that had cause to be loth. May the Lord forgive, and heal this foolish ingratitude!

§ 22. Do we not combine with our most cruel foes in their most malicious designs, while we are loth to die, and go to heaven? What is the Devil's daily business? Is it not to keep our souls from God? And shall we be content with this? Is it not the one half of hell, which we wish to ourselves, while we desire to be absent from heaven? What sport is this to Satan, that his desires and thine, Christian, should so concur? that when he sees he cannot get thee to hell, he can so long keep thee out of heaven, and make thee the earnest petitioner for it thyself? O gratify not the Devil so much to thy own injury!—Do not our daily fears of death make our lives a continual torment? Those lives which might be full of joy, in the daily contemplations of the life to come, and the sweet delightful thoughts of bliss; how do we fill them up with causeless terrors? Thus we consume our own comforts, and prey upon our truest pleasures. When we might lie down, and rise up, and walk abroad, with our hearts full of the joys of God, we continually fill them with perplexing fears. For he that fears dying, must be always fearing; because he hath always reason to expect it. And how can that man's life be comfortable, who lives in continual fear of losing his comforts? Are not these fears of death self-created sufferings? As if God had not inflicted enough upon us, but we must inflict more upon ourselves. Is not death bitter enough to the flesh of itself, but we must double and treble its bitterness? The sufferings laid upon us by God, do all lead to happy issues; the progress, is from tribulation to patience, from thence to experience, and so to hope, and at last to glory. But the sufferings we make for ourselves are circular and endless, from sin to suffering, from suffering to sin, and so to suffering again; and not only so, but they multiply in their course; every sin is greater than the former, and so every suffering also: so that, except we think God hath made us to be our own tormentors, we have small reason to nourish our fears of death. And are they not useless, unprofitable fears? As all our care cannot make one hair white or black, nor add one cubit to our stature; so neither can our fear prevent our sufferings, nor delay our death one hour; willing, or unwilling, we must away. Many a man's fears have hastened his end, but no man's did ever avert it. 'Tis true, a cautious fear, concerning the danger after death, hath profited many, and is very useful to the preventing of that danger; but for a member of Christ, and an heir of heaven, to be afraid of entering his own inheritance, is a sinful, useless fear. And do not our fears of dying ensnare our souls, and add strength to many temptations? What made Peter deny his Lord? What makes apostates in suffering times forsake the truth? Why doth the green blade of unrooted faith wither before the heat of persecution? fear of imprisonment and poverty may do much, but fear of death will do much more. So much fear as we have of death, so much cowardice we usually have in the cause of God: Beside the multitude of unbelieving contrivances, and discontents, at the wise disposals of God, and hard thoughts of most of his providences, which this sin doth make us guilty of.

§ 23. Let us farther consider, what a competent time most of us have had. Why should not a man, that would die at all, be as willing at thirty or forty, if God see fit, as at seventy or eighty? Length of time doth not conquer corruption; it never withers nor decays, through age. Except we receive an addition of grace, as well as time, we naturally grow worse. "O my soul, depart in peace! As thou wouldst not desire an unlimited state in wealth and honor, so desire it not in point of time. If thou wast sensible, how little thou deservest an hour of that patience which thou hast enjoyed, thou wouldst think thou hast had a large part. Is it not Divine wisdom that sets the bounds? God will honor himself by various persons, and several ages, and not by one person or age. Seeing thou hast acted thine own part, and finished thine appointed course, come down contentedly, that others may succeed, who must have their turns as well as thyself. Much time hath much duty. Beg therefore for grace to improve it better; but be content with thy share of time. Thou hast also had a competency of the comforts of life. God might have made thy life a burden, till thou hadst been as weary of possessing it, as thou art now afraid of losing it. He might have suffered thee to have consumed thy days in ignorance, without the saving knowledge of Christ: But he hath opened thine eyes in the morning of thy days, and acquainted thee betimes with the business of thy life. Hath thy heavenly Father caused thy lot to fall in Europe, not in Asia, Africa, or America; in England, not in Spain or Italy? Hath he filled up all thy life with mercies, and dost thou now think thy share too small? What a multitude of hours of consolation, of delightful Sabbaths, of pleasant studies, of precious companions, of wonderful deliverances, of excellent opportunities, of fruitful labors, of joyful tidings, of sweet experiences, of astonishing providences, hath that life partaken of? Hath thy life been so sweet, that thou art loth to leave it? Is this thy thanks to him, who is thus drawing thee to his own sweetness? O foolish soul! would thou wast as covetous after eternity, as thou art for a fading, perishing life! and after the presence of God in glory, as thou art for continuance on earth! Then thou wouldst cry, Why is his chariot so long in coming? why tarry the wheels of his chariots? How long, Lord! how long!—What if God should let thee live many years, but deny thee the mercies which thou hast hitherto enjoyed? Might he not give thee life, as he gave the murmuring Israelites quails? He might give thee life, till thou art weary of living, and as glad to be rid of it as Judas or Achitophel; and make thee like many miserable creatures in the world, who can hardly forbear laying violent hands on themselves. Be not therefore so importunate for life, which may prove a judgment, instead of a blessing. How many of the precious servants of God, of all ages and places, have gone before thee? Thou art not to enter an untrodden path, nor appointed first to break the ice. Except Enoch and Elijah, which of the saints have escaped death? And art thou better than they? There are many millions of saints dead, more than now remain on earth. What a number of thine own bosom friends, and companions in duty, are now gone, and why shouldst thou be so loth to follow? Nay, hath not Jesus Christ himself gone this way? Hath he not sanctified the grave to us, and perfumed the dust with his own body, and art thou loth to follow him too? Rather say as Thomas, Let us also go, that we may die with him."

§ 24. If what hath been said, will not persuade, Scripture and reason have little force. And I have said the more on this subject, finding it so needful to myself and others; finding among so many Christians, who could do and suffer so much for Christ, so few that can willingly die; and of many, who have somewhat subdued other corruptions, so few have got the conquest of this. I persuade not the ungodly from fearing death: 'Tis a wonder rather, that they fear it no more, and spend not their days in continual horror.