"IN Heaven alone no sin is found,
And there's no weeping there."
There are no barren deserts there—no rugged mountain steeps—no chilling blasts nor scorching winds. There are no ravenous beasts in all that lovely plain—no robbers—none who "hurt or destroy." It is always Spring. The verdure withers not. It flourishes in perpetual bloom. And as the Christian gazes upon this lovely scene, how cheering is the thought that there his possessions lie. O lovely, happy land!
"We speak of the realms of the blest,
Of that country so bright and so fair,
And oft are its glories confessed—
But what must it be to be there!"
The Christian is at one time in Vanity Fair, at another, in the Valley of Humiliation, and now he ascends the Hill of Difficulty. He is a sojourner, a pilgrim. He feels that here he has no continuing city. But for his consolation during the weary pilgrimage, he is permitted to have glimpses of the City which is his home. It is "that great city the Holy Jerusalem." Its walls are of precious stones, and its streets of pure, pellucid gold. The sight of it is ravishing to the soul, even when seen afar off. It is a delightsome city—the inhabitants are ever making new and surprising discoveries, which fill the soul with constant, ineffable bliss.
"We speak of its pathways of gold,
Of its walls deck'd with jewels so rare,
Of its wonders and pleasures untold—
But what must it be to be there!"
This beautiful world has been defiled by sin. In vain does the disconsolate heart seek for happiness here. This is truly a "vale of tears." Sorrow and pain and disappointment are the lot of mortals on earth. The unsanctified heart is an ever-present source of disquietude. Everywhere we see our fellow-mortals involved in sin, and struggling with misery. "Give, O! give me peace and happiness," is the longing cry of every heart. It is eagerly sought in gaudy toys, in shining dust, in worldly honor, in sensual gratifications, but is not found! It will not be so in Heaven! There "sorrow and sighing shall flee away." With nothing to disturb our peace, we shall be full of inexpressible joy and happiness. It is not a mere Eden—a paradise, or pleasure garden—where there is nothing to cause unhappiness. It is Heaven.
"We speak of its freedom from sin,
From sorrow, temptation and care;
From trials without and within—
But what must it be to be there!"
There the ransomed of the Lord shall assemble, with "songs and everlasting joy upon their heads." It is their delightful employment to celebrate the praises of him who bought them with his blood. The cup of joy overflows as they are continually employed in giving to God reverence, supreme adoration and love, and in doing his will. There the marriage supper of the Lamb is spread. The guests are all arrayed in beautiful white robes. On earth these robes are often soiled by sin. It is not so in heaven. On earth the principle of selfishness was never entirely eradicated. Now universal charity pervades every bosom. The whole family of the redeemed are united by ties of affection infinitely stronger and more enduring than a mother's love! Their own society is felicity. On earth they were the fallen, ruined depraved children of an apostate race. Now, having been brought out of much tribulation, they are the happiest creatures of the universe! What a contrast between earth and heaven!
"We speak of its service of love,
Of the robes which the glorified wear,
Of the church of the first-born above,—
But what must it be to be there!"
O for more holiness, more heavenly-mindedness, more "rejoicing in hope," more implicit trust in him who saves his people from their sins.
"Do thou, Lord, 'midst sorrow and wo,
Still for heaven my spirit, prepare;
And shortly I also shall know,
And feel what it is to be there."