Teaching Resources International

Let us draw near and see from the pure fountain of the Scriptures what excellencies the saints’ everlasting rest affords.  May the Lord hide us in the clefts of the rock and cover us with the hands of indulgent grace while we approach to take this view.  And may we put off from our feet the shoes of irreverence and fleshly thoughts while we stand upon this holy ground.  These truths are like jewels in the Christian’s heavenly crown:

Heaven Is Purchased for Us with Christ’s Own Blood

It is a most singular honor and ornament in the style of the saints’ heavenly rest to be called the purchased possession; meaning it is the fruit of the blood of the Son of God.  Yea, it is the chief fruit—the end and perfection of all the effects and efficacy of that blood.

Surely love is the most precious ingredient in the whole composition; and of all the flowers that grow in the garden of love, can there be brought one more sweet and beautiful to the garland than this blood?  Greater love than this there is not—to lay down the life of the lover.  And to have our Redeemer ever before our eyes and the liveliest sense and freshest remembrance of that dying, bleeding love upon our souls!  Oh, how will it fill our souls with perpetual ravishments to think that we have passed through all, and here arrived safely at the breast of God!  We shall behold, as it were, the wounds of love with eyes and hearts of love forever.

With what astonishing apprehensions, then, will the redeemed saints everlastingly behold their Blessed Redeemer!  I will not meddle with their vain, audacious question, who must need know whether the glorified body of Christ does yet retain either the wounds or scars.  But this is most certain: the memory of it will be as fresh, and the impressions of love as deep, and its working as strong as if His wounds were still in our eyes.

Now His heart is open to us and ours shut to Him: but then His heart shall be open and our hearts open.  Oh, the blessed congress that there will then be.  But I am here at a loss; my apprehensions fail me, and fall so short.  Only this, I know; it will be the singular praise of our inheritance, that it was bought with the price of that blood; and the singular joy of the saints, to behold the purchaser and the price, together with the possession!

Neither will the views of the wounds of love renew our wounds of sorrow.  How dear forever will the love of Christ be then to us, who stripped Himself, as it were, of His majesty and glory, and put our humble garment of flesh upon Him, that He might put the robes of His own righteousness and glory upon us; and saved us, not from cruel injustice, but from His Father’s deserved wrath!  Well then, Christians, as you used to do in your books, and on your goods, write down the price they cost you; so do you on your righteousness and on your glory, write down the price: The precious blood of Christ.

Heaven is Free

The second pearl in the saint’s diadem is that it is free. This seems to devour the former point.  But the seeming discord is but a pleasing diversity composed into that harmony which constitutes the melody.  These two attributes, purchased and free, are the two chains of gold which by their pleasant twisting do make up the wreath for the heads of the pillars in the temple of God.  It was dear to Christ, but free to us.

Oh, the everlasting admiration that will surprise the saints to think of this freeness.  What did the Lord see in me that He should judge me meet for such a state?  That I who was but a poor, diseased, despised wretch should be clad in the brightness of His glory?  Oh, who can fathom unmeasurable love?  There is no talk of our worthiness nor unworthiness; if worthiness were our condition for admittance, we might sit down with St. John and weep, “because none in heaven or earth is found worthy.”  But the Lion of the tribe of Judah is worthy and has prevailed; and by that title must we hold this inheritance.  Here our commission runs: “Freely ye have received, freely give.”  But Christ has dearly received, yet freely gives.  The pope and his servants will be paid for their pardons and indulgences, but Christ will take nothing for His.  The commutation of penance must cost men’s purses dear or else they must be cast out of the synagogue and soul and body delivered up to the devil: but none are shut out of that church for want of money, nor is poverty any eyesore to Christ.  An empty heart may bar them out, but an empty purse cannot.  His kingdom of grace has always been more consistent with despised poverty than wealth and honor, and riches make entrance to heaven far more difficult than poverty can ever do.  That’s why it is “the poor of the world, rich in faith, whom God hath chosen to be the heirs of that kingdom, which He hath prepared for them that love Him.”

I know the true laborer is “worthy of his hire” and “they that serve at the altar, should live upon the altar.”  Yet let me desire the right-aiming ministers of Christ to consider what is expedient as well as what is lawful, and that the saving of one soul is better than a thousand pounds a year, and our gain, though due, is a cursed gain, if it causes a stumbling-block to our people’s souls.  Let us make the free gospel as little burdensome and chargeable as is possible. I would rather never take their tithes while I live than by those tithes destroy souls for whom Christ died.  And though God has ordained that “they which preach the Gospel should live of the Gospel,” yet I would rather suffer all things than hinder the gospel.  It would be better for me to die than that any man should make this my glorying void.  If the necessity of souls and the promoting of the gospel require it, I would rather preach the Gospel in hunger and rags than rigidly contend for what is my due.  And if I should do so, still I have no reason to glory.  Necessity is laid upon me; yea, woe be to me if I preach not the gospel—whether or not I ever receive anything from men.

How unbecoming it is for the messengers of His free grace and kingdom, to risk losing the hearts and souls of their people, rather than losing a dime of their due.  How shameful it is to exasperate people against the message of God, rather than forbear some of their right.  What a tragedy to contend with people at law for the wages of the gospel, thus making the glad tidings seem sad tidings to their yet carnal hearts because of this burden!  This is not the way of Christ and His apostles, nor adoring to the self-denying, yielding, suffering doctrine which they taught.  Away with all those actions that are against the main end of our studies and calling, which is to win souls.  And woe be upon that gain which hinders the gaining of men to Christ!  I know flesh will here object necessities and distrust will have plenty of arguments; but we who have enough to answer to the diffidence of our people, let us take home some of our answers to ourselves and teach ourselves first before we teach them.  How many people have you known whom God allowed to starve in His vineyard?

Since we paid nothing for God’s eternal love and nothing for the Son of His love and nothing for His Spirit and our grace and faith, and nothing for our pardon—so shall we pay nothing for our eternal rest.  The broken heart that has known the dregs of sin will understand and feel what I say.  What an astonishing thought it will be to think of the unmeasurable difference between our deservings and our receivings; between the state we should have been in and the state we are in!  Oh, how free was all this love, and how free is this enjoyed glory!  Infinite wisdom did cast the whole design of man’s salvation into the mold of purchase and freeness, that the love and joy of man might be perfected, and the honor of grace most highly advanced; that the thought of merit might neither cloud the one nor obstruct the other, and that on these two hinges the gates of heaven might turn.  So then let “Deserved” be written on the floor of hell but on the door of heaven and life, “The Free Gift.”

Heaven Is the Saints’ Own Possession

The third comfortable attribute of our heavenly rest is that it is the saints’ proper and peculiar possession. It belongs to no other of all the sons of men; not that it would have detracted from the greatness or freeness of the gift if God had so pleased that all the world should have enjoyed it.  But when God has resolved otherwise, that it must be enjoyed but by few.  To find our names among that number should make us the more to value our enjoyment. Distinguishing, separating mercy affects more than any mercy.  If it should rain on our grounds alone or the sun shine alone upon our habitations, or the blessing of heaven divide between our flocks and other men’s, as between Jacob’s and Laban’s, then we should more feelingly acknowledge mercy than now, while we possess the same in common.  The lower the weighty end of the balance descends, the higher is the other lifted up; and the falling of one of the sails of the windmill is the occasion of the rising of the other.

It would be no extenuation of the mercies of the saints here if all the world were as holy as they; and the communication of their happiness is their greatest desire; yet it might perhaps dull their thankfulness, and distinguishing grace would not be known.  But when one should be enlightened and another left in darkness; one reformed and another by his lusts enslaved, it makes them cry out, with the disciple: “Lord, what is it, that thou wilt reveal thyself to us, and not unto the world?” (cf. John 14:22).

By this time the impenitent world will see a reason for the saints’ singularity while they were on earth and will be able to answer their own demands, Why must you be more holy than your neighbors?  Even because they would fain be more happy than their neighbors.  And why cannot you do as others, and live as the world about you?  Sincere singularity in holiness is by this time known to be neither hypocrisy nor folly.  If to be singular in that glory be so desirable, surely to be singular in godly living is not contemptible.  As every one of them knows his own sore, and his own grief, so shall everyone then feel his own joy; and if they can now call Christ their own, and call God their own God, how much more then upon their full possession of Him!  For as He takes His people for His inheritance, so will He Himself be the inheritance of His people forever.

Heaven Offers Perfect Fellowship

A fourth comfortable adjunct of our heavenly rest is that it is the fellowship of the blessed saints and angels of God. The Christian will not be so singular as to be solitary.  Though heaven is proper to the saints only, yet is it common to all the saints, for what is it but an association of blessed spirits in God; a corporation of perfected saints, whereof Christ is the head; the communion of saints completed?  This does not mean we derive heaven’s joys from one another.  Though the strings receive not their sound and sweetness from each other, yet their concurrence causes that harmony which could not be by one alone; for those that have prayed, and fasted, and wept, and watched and waited together, now to joy and enjoy and praise together, should much advance their pleasure.  I am certain of this, fellow-Christians, that as we have been together in the labor, duty, danger and distress, so shall we be in the great recompense and deliverance.  And as we have been scorned and despised together, so shall we be crowned and honored together; and we who have gone through the day of sadness shall enjoy together that day of gladness; and those who have been with us in persecution and prison shall be with us also in that palace of consolation.

When I look in the faces of the precious people of God, and believingly think of that day, what a refreshing thought it is!  Shall we not there remember, think you, the trials which we passed through here; our fellowship in duty and in sufferings; how oft our groans made, as it were, one sound, our tears uniting in one stream, and our desires uniting in one prayer?  And now all our praise shall make up one melody, and all our churches one church, and all ourselves but one body; for we shall be one in Christ, even as He and the Father are one.

It is true we must be very careful in this case, that, in our thoughts we look not for that in the saints which is alone in Christ, and that we give them not His own prerogative, nor expect too great a part of our comfort in the fruition of them.  We are prone enough to this kind of idolatry.  But, yet, He who commands us so to love them now, will give us leave, in the same subordination to Himself, to love them then, when Himself has made them much more lovely.  And if we may love them, we shall surely rejoice in them; for love and enjoyment cannot stand without an answerable joy.

I know that Christ is all in all; and that it is the presence of God that makes heaven to be heaven.  But yet it much sweetens the thoughts of that place to me to remember that there are such a multitude of my most dear and precious friends in Christ; with whom I took sweet counsel, and with whom I went up to the house of God; who walked with me in the fear of God, and integrity of their hearts.  In the face of their lives was written the name of Christ; whose sweet and sensible mention of His excellencies has made my heart to burn within me.

It is a question with some, whether we shall know each other in heaven or not.  Surely, there shall no knowledge cease which now we have, but only that which implies our imperfection.  And what imperfection can our knowledge of one another imply?  Nay, our present knowledge of one other shall be increased beyond belief.  It shall indeed be done away, but as the light of candles and stars is done away by the rising of the sun. It is more proper to think of it as a doing away of our ignorance than of our knowledge. Indeed, we shall not know each other after the flesh, not by stature, voice, color, complexion, face, or outward shape.  If we had so known Christ, we should know Him no more.  We shall know each other not by parts and gifts of learning; nor by titles of honor of worldly dignity; nor by terms of affinity and consanguinity, nor benefits, nor such relations; nor by youth or age—but by the image of Christ, and spiritual relation, and former faithfulness in improving our talents, beyond doubt, we shall know and be known.  Nor is it only our old acquaintance, but all the saints of all the ages, whose faces in the flesh we never saw, whom we shall there both know and comfortably enjoy.  Those who now are willingly ministering spirits for our good will willingly then be our companions in joy for the perfecting of our good; and they who had such joy in heaven for our conversion will gladly rejoice with us in our glorification.  I think, Christian, this will be a more honorable assembly than ever you beheld, and a more happy society than you were ever of before.

We are come thither already in respect of title and of earnest and first-fruits; but we shall then come into full possession.  Oh, beloved, if it be a happiness to live with the saints in their imperfection, when they have sin to embitter their society, as well as holiness to sweeten it, what will it be to live with them in their perfection, where saints are wholly and only saints? If we thought ourselves in the suburbs of heaven when we heard them set forth the beauty of our Lord, and speak of the excellencies of His kingdom, what a day will it be when we shall join with them in praises to our Lord in and for that kingdom!  So then I conclude, this is one singular excellency of the rest of heaven, that we are “fellow-citizens with the saints, and of the household of God.”

Heaven’s Joys Come Directly from the Hand of God

Another excellent property of our rest will be that the joys of it are immediately from God. We shall see God face to face and stand continually in His presence, and consequently derive our life and comfort immediately from Him.  Whether God will make use of any creatures for our service then, or, if any, what creatures, and what use, is more than I yet know.  It seems that the creature shall have a day of deliverance, and that into the glorious liberty of the sons of God.  Our most and great joys will be immediate—directly from God’s own hand.  Now we have nothing at all immediately.  From the earth, from man, from sun and moon, from the influence of the planets, from the ministration of angels, and from the Spirit and Christ; and, doubtless, the further the stream runs from the fountain, the more impure it is.  It gathers some defilement from every unclean channel it passes through.

Christ is indeed a precious pearl but often is held forth in leprous hands.  And thus do we disgrace the riches of the Gospel when it is the work of our calling to make it honorable in the eyes of men.  We dim the glory of that jewel by our dull and low expressions, whose luster we do pretend to discover, while the hearers judge of it by our expressions, and not its proper genuine worth.  The truth is the best of men do apprehend but little of what God, in His word, expresses—and what they do apprehend they are unable to utter.  If an angel from heaven should preach the gospel, yet could he not deliver it according to its glory; much less we, who never saw what they have seen, and keep this treasure in earthen vessels.

The comforts that flow through sermons, through sacraments, through reading, and company, and conference, and creatures are but half comforts. The life that comes by these is but half a life, in comparison of those which the Almighty shall speak with His own mouth and reach forth to us with His own hand.  The Christian knows by experience now, that his most immediate joys are his sweetest joys: which have least of man, and are most directly from the Spirit.  That is one reason, as I conceive, why Christians who are much in secret prayer, and in meditation and contemplation, rather than they who are more in hearing, reading and conference, are men of greatest life and joy, because they are nearer the source of the fountain, and have all more immediately from God Himself.  We are not yet come to the time and state where we shall have all from God’s immediate hand.  As God has made all creatures, and instituted all ordinances for us, so will He continue our need of all.  We must be content with love-tokens from Him, till we come to receive our all in Him.

There is joy in these remote receivings but the fullness is in His own presence.  Oh, Christians!  You will then know the difference between the creature and the Creator, and the content that each of them affords.  We shall then have light without a candle and a perpetual day without the sun.  We shall then have rest without sleep, for God will be our rest.  We shall then have enlightened understandings without a written law: for the Lord will perfect His law in our hearts, and we shall be all perfectly taught of God.  His own will shall be our law, and His own face shall be our light forever.  Then shall we have joy, which we drew not from the promises, nor was fetched us home by faith and hope. Beholding and possessing will exclude most of these.  We shall then have communion without sacraments when Christ shall drink with us of the fruit of the vine new; that is, refresh us with the comforting wine of immediate fruition, in the kingdom of His Father.

When we shall live in our Father’s house and presence and God shall be all and in all, then we are indeed at home in rest.

Heaven Will Be a Seasonable Rest

A further excellency is this: it will be unto us a seasonable rest. He who expects the fruit of His vineyard in season and makes His people as trees planted by the waters, fruitful in their season, He will also give them the crown in season.  He that will have the words of joy spoken to the weary in season will sure cause that time of joy to appear in His perfect time.

They who knew the season of grace and did repent and believe in season shall also, if they faint not, reap in season.  If God will not miss the season of common mercies, even to His enemies, but will give both the former and the latter rain in their season, and the appointed weeks of harvest in its season, and by inviolable covenant has established day and night in their seasons, then sure, the harvest of the saints and their day of gladness shall not miss its season.

He who has given the stork, the crane, and the swallow to know their appointed time will surely keep His time appointed.  When we have had in this world a long night of sad darkness, will not the day breaking and the rising of the Sun of Righteousness be then seasonable?  When we have endured a hard winter in this cold climate will not the reviving spring be then seasonable?  When we have sailed (as Paul) slowly many days, and much time spent, and sailing now grown more dangerous; and when neither sun nor stars in many days appear, and no small tempest comes on us and all hope that we shall be saved is almost taken away—do you think that the haven of rest is not seasonable then?

When we have passed a long and tedious journey and that through no small dangers, is not home then seasonable?  When we have had a long and perilous war, and have lived in the midst of furious enemies, and have been forced to stand on a perpetual watch, and received from them many a wound, would not a peace with victory be now seasonable?  When we have been captivated in many years’ imprisonment, and insulted over by scornful foes, and suffered many pinching wants, and hardly enjoyed bare necessaries, would not a full deliverance to a most plentiful state, even from this prison to a throne, be now seasonable?

Surely, a man would think, who looks upon the face of the world, that rest should seem seasonable to all men.  Some of us are languishing under continual weakness and groaning under most grievous pains, crying in the morning.  “Would God it were evening!” and in the evening, “Would God it were morning!”—weary of going, weary of sitting, weary of standing, weary of lying, weary of eating, weary of speaking, weary of walking, weary of our very friends, weary of ourselves.  Oh! how often has this been mine own case!  And is not rest yet seasonable?  Some are complaining under the pressure of the times; weary of their taxes, weary of their dwellings, weary of crime, weary of their fears and dangers, weary of their poverty and wants.  And is not rest yet seasonable?

Where can you go, and into what company can you come, where the voice of complaining does not show that men live in a continual weariness—but especially the saints, who are most weary of that which the world cannot feel?  What godly society can you fall into, but you shall hear by their moans that something ails them?  Some are weary because of a blind mind, doubting the way they walk, unsettled in almost all their thoughts.  Some are weary because of a hard heart, some because of pride, some because of passion—and some from all these, and much more.  Some are weary because of their daily doubtings and fear concerning their spiritual estate; some because of a shortage of spiritual joys; and some because of the sense of God’s wrath.  And is not rest now seasonable?

When a poor Christian has desired and prayed and waited for deliverance many a year, is it not then seasonable?  When he is ready almost to give up, and saith, “I am afraid I shall not reach the end, and my faith and patience will not hold out,” is not this a fit season for rest?  If the voice of the king were seasonable to Daniel, early in the morning calling him from his den, that he might advance him to more than former dignity, then surely that morning voice of Christ our King, calling us from our terrors among lions, to possess his rest among His saints, should be to us a very seasonable voice.

Now we are often grudging that we have not a greater share of comforts; that our deliverances are not more speedy and eminent; that the world prospers more than we; that our prayers are not presently answered.  But our portion is kept to a fitter season.  When the winter comes we shall have our harvest.  We grudge that we do not find a Canaan in the wilderness or cities of rest in Noah’s Ark and the songs of Zion in a strange land; that we have not a harbor in the main ocean, or find not our home in the middle way, and are not crowned in the midst of the fight, and have not our rest in the heat of the day, and have not our inheritance before we are at age, and have not heaven before we leave the earth: and would not all this be very unreasonable?

I confess, in regard of the church’s service, the removing of the saints may sometimes appear to us unseasonable.  I must confess it is one of my saddest thoughts, to reckon up the useful instruments, whom God has lately called out of His vineyard, when the loiterers are many, and the harvest great and very many congregations desolate, and the people as sheep without shepherds, and yet the laborers called from their work, especially when a door of liberty and opportunity is open.  We cannot but lament so sore a judgment, and think the removal, in regard of the church, unseasonable.

But whatever it is to those that are left behind; yet the saints’ departure, to themselves, is usually seasonable.

Heaven Will Be a Suitable Rest

A further excellency of this rest is this: as it will be seasonable, so a suitable rest, suited to the natures, to the desires, and to the necessity of the saints.

To their natures. If suitableness concur not with excellency, the best things may be bad to us; for it is that which makes things good in themselves to be good to us.  In our choice of friends, we often pass by the more excellent, to choose the more suitable.  Every good agrees not with every nature.  To live in a free and open air, under the warming rays of the sun, is excellent to man because suitable; but the fish, which is of another nature does rather choose another element; and that which is to us so excellent would quickly be to it destructive.

In heaven, suitableness and excellency will finally be conjoined.  The new nature of saints suits their spirits to this rest; and indeed their holiness is nothing else but a spark taken from this element, and by the Spirit of Christ kindled in their hearts, the flame whereof, as mindful of its own divine original, ever mounts the soul aloft, and tends to the place from whence it comes.  It works toward its own center, and makes us restless, till there we rest.  Gold and earthly glory, temporal crowns and kingdoms, could not make a rest for saints.  As they were not redeemed with so low a price, so neither are they endued with so low a nature.  As God will have from them a spiritual worship, suitable to His own spiritual being, so will He provide them a spiritual rest, suitable to His people’s spiritual nature.  As spirits have not fleshly substances, so neither delight they in fleshly pleasures; these are too gross and vile for them.  A heaven of the knowledge of God and His Christ; a delightful contentment in that mutual love; an everlasting rejoicing in the fruition of our God; a perpetual singing of His high praises; this is heaven for a saint, a spiritual rest suitable to a spiritual nature.  Were not our own nature in some sort divine, the enjoyment of the true divine nature could not be to us a suitable rest.

It is suitable also to the desires of the saints.  As their natures, so will be their desires; and as their desires, so will be their rest.  Indeed, we have now a mixed nature; and from contrary principles, do arise contrary desires; as they are flesh, they have desires of flesh; and as so they have sinful desires.  These are not the desires that this rest is suited to for they will accompany them to their rest.  But it is the desires of our renewed natures, and those which the Christian will ordinarily own which this rest is suited to.  While our desires remain uncorrupted and misguided, it is a far greater mercy to deny them, yea, to destroy them, than to satisfy them; but those which are spiritual are of His own planting, and He will surely water them and give the increase.  Is it so great a work to raise them in us, and shall they after all this vanish and fail?

He quickened our hungering and thirsting for righteousness, so that He might make us happy in a full satisfaction.  Christian, this is a rest after your own heart.  It contains all that your heart can wish; that which you long for, pray for, labor for, there you shall find it all.  You would rather have God in Christ than all the world.  There you shall have Him!  What would you not give for assurance of His love?  There you shall have assurance beyond suspicion.  Nay, your desires cannot now extend to the height of what you shall there obtain.

This is a life of desire and prayer; but that is a life of satisfaction and enjoyment.  Oh! that sinners would also consider that seeing God will not give them a felicity suitable to their sensual desires; it is therefore their wisdom to endeavor for desires suitable to the true felicity, and to direct their ship to the right harbor, seeing they cannot bring the harbor to their ship.

The rest is very suitable to the saints’ necessities also as well as to their natures and desires.  It contains whatsoever they truly wanted.  It was Christ and perfected holiness which they most needed, and with these shall they here be principally supplied.  The rain which Elijah’s prayer procured was not more seasonable, after the three years’ drought, than this rest will be to this thirsty soul.

Heaven Will Be Perfect in Every Way

Another excellency of our rest will be this, that it will be absolutely perfect and complete; and this both in the sincerity and universality of it.  We shall then have joy without sorrow, and rest without weariness.  As there is no mixture of corruption with our graces, so no mixture of sufferings with our solace.  There are none of those waves in that harbor, which now so toss us up and down.  There will be a universal perfecting of all our parts and powers, and a universal removal of all our evils.  And though the positive part be the sweetest, and that which draws the other after it, even as the rising of the sun excludes the darkness; yet is not the negative part to be slighted, even our freedom, from so many and great calamities.

Heaven excludes nothing more directly than sin; whether original and of nature, or actual and of behavior.  For there enters nothing that defiles, nor that works abomination, nor that makes a lie.  When they are there, the saints are saints indeed.  He that will wash them with His heart-blood, rather than suffer them to enter unclean, will now perfectly see to that; He who has undertaken to present them to His Father, “not having spot or wrinkle or any such thing, but perfectly holy, and without blemish,” will now most certainly perform His undertaking.

I know if it were offered to your choice, you wouldst rather choose to be freed from sin than to be made heir of all the world. Wait till then, and you shall have that desire: your hard heart, those vile thoughts that lay down and rose up with you, which accompanied you to every duty, which you could no more leave behind you than you could leave yourself behind, shall now be left behind forever. They might accompany you to death, but they cannot proceed a step farther.

Your understanding shall nevermore be troubled with darkness.  Ignorance and error are inconsistent with this light.  Now you walk like a man in the twilight, always afraid of being out of the way; but then will all this darkness be dispelled, and our blind understandings fully opened, and we shall have no more doubts of our way.  We shall know which was the right side, and which the wrong; which was the truth, and which the error.  What would we not give to see all dark Scriptures made plain, to see all seeming contradictions reconciled!  When glory has taken the veil from our eyes, all this will be known in a moment; we shall then see clearly into all the controversies about doctrine or discipline that now perplex us.  The poorest Christian is presently there a more perfect divine than any is here.

When our ignorance is perfectly healed, then we shall be settled, resolved men; then shall our reproach be taken from us, and we shall never change our judgments more. Oh! that happy, approaching day, when error shall vanish away forever; when our understanding shall be filled with God Himself, whose light will leave no darkness in us!  His face shall be the Scripture, where we shall read the truth; and Himself, instead of teachers and counsels, to perfect our understandings, and acquaint us with Himself, who is the perfect truth.  No more error, no more scandal to others, no more disquiet to our own spirits, no more mistaking zeal for falsehood; because our understandings have no more sin.  Many a godly man has been a means to deceive and pervert his brethren, and when he sees his own error, cannot again tell how to undeceive them; but there we shall all conspire in one truth, as being one in Him who is that truth.

And as we shall rest from all the sin of our understandings, so of our wills, affection, and conversation.  We shall no more retain this rebelling principle, which is still withdrawing us from God.  Doubtless, we shall no more be oppressed with the power of our corruptions, nor vexed with their presence; no pride, passion, slothfulness, senselessness, shall enter with us; no strangeness to God, and the things of God; no coldness of affections, nor imperfection in our love; no uneven walking, nor grieving of the Spirit; no scandalous action, or unholy living.  We shall rest from all these forever.  Then shall our understandings receive light from the face of God, as the full moon from the open sun, where there is no earth to interpose between them; then shall our wills correspond to the divine will, as face answers to face in a glass; and the same, His will shall be our law and rule from which we shall never swerve again.

Heaven Is a Rest from Suffering

Heaven is a perfect rest from suffering. When the cause is gone, the effect ceases.   Our sufferings were but the consequences of our sinning, and here they both shall cease together.

We shall rest from all our perplexing doubts and fears.  It shall no more be said that doubts are like the thistle, a bad weed, but growing in good ground; they shall now be weeded out, and trouble the gracious soul no more.  No more need of so many sermons, books, and signs to resolve the poor doubting soul.  The full fruition of love itself will resolve all doubts forever.

We shall rest from all that sense of God’s displeasure, which was our greatest torment, whether manifested mediately or immediately.  Sorrowful complaints will be turned into admiring thankfulness.  All sense of God’s displeasure will be swallowed up in that ocean of infinite love when sense shall convince us that fury dwells not in God (cf. Isa. 27:4).  Though for a little moment He hides His face, yet with everlasting compassion will He receive and embrace us.

We shall rest from all the temptations of Satan whereby he continually disturbs our peace.  What a grief is it to a Christian, though he yield not to the temptation, yet to be still solicited to deny his Lord.  That such a thought should be cast into his heart; that he can set about nothing that is good, but Satan is still dissuading him from it, distracting him in it, or discouraging him after it!  What a torment as well as a temptation is it to have such horrid motions made to his soul!

Here we are too prone to entertain cruel thoughts of God, undervaluing thoughts of Christ, unbelieving thoughts of Scripture, injurious thoughts of Providence.  We are so easily tempted to turn to present things, to play with the baits of sin, to venture on the delights of the flesh, and to consider atheism itself!  We know the treachery of our own hearts that they are as tinder and gunpowder, ready to take fire, as soon as one of these sparks shall fall upon them.  How the poor Christian lives in continual disquietness, to feel these motions!  But more that his heart should be the soil for this seed and the too-fruitful mother of such an offspring.  And, most of all, he is disquieted by the fear that they will at last prevail and these cursed motions should procure his consent.

But here is our comfort; as we now stand not by our own strength and shall not be charged with any of this; so when the day of our deliverance comes, we shall fully rest from these temptations.  Satan is then bound up; the time of tempting is done.  Now we do walk among his snares and are in danger of being circumvented with his methods and wiles; but then we are quite above his snares, and out of the hearing of his enticing charms.  He has power here to tempt us in the wilderness, but he enters not into the Holy City.  There will be no more work for Satan then.

We shall rest also from all our temptations which we now undergo from the world and the flesh, as well as Satan; and that is a number inexpressible, and a weight, were it not that we are beholden to supporting grace, utterly intolerable.  Every sense is a snare; every member a snare; every creature a snare; every mercy a snare; and every duty a snare to us.  We can scarce open our eyes, but we are in danger.  If we behold them above us, we are in danger of envy; if below us, we are in danger of contempt.  If we see sumptuous buildings, pleasant habitations, honor and riches we are in danger to be drawn away with covetous desires; if the rags and beggary of others, we are in danger of self-applauding thoughts and unmercifulness.  If we see beauty, it is a bait to lust; if deformity, loathing and disdain.

We can scarcely hear a word spoken but contains to us a matter of temptation.  How soon do slanderous reports, vain jests, wanton speeches, by that passage creep into the heart!  How strong and prevalent a temptation is our appetite and how constant and strong a watch does it require!  Have we comeliness and beauty?  What fuel for pride.  Are we deformed?  What occasion of repining!  Have we strength of reason, and gifts of learning?  How hard it is not to be puffed up!  To seek ourselves; to hunt after applause; to despise our brethren; to dislike the simplicity that is in Christ.  Both in the matter and manner of Scripture, in doctrine, in discipline, in worship, and in the saints; to affect a pompous, specious, fleshly service of God, and to exalt reason above faith.  Are we unlearned and of shallow heads and slender parts?  How apt then to despise what we have not and to undervalue that which we do not know; and to err with confidence, because of our ignorance.  Conceitedness and pride become a zealous enemy to truth and a leading troubler of the church’s peace, under pretenses of truth and holiness.  Are we men of eminence and in place of authority?  How strong is our temptation to slight our brethren, to abuse our trust, to seek ourselves, to stand upon our honor and privileges; to forget ourselves, our poor brethren, and the public good.  How hard it is to devote our power to His glory from whom we have received it!  How prone we are to make our wills our law and to cut out all the enjoyments of others, both religious and civil, by the cursed rules and model of our own interest and policy!  Are we inferiors and subject?  How prone to judge at others’ pre-eminence, and to take liberty to bring all their actions to the bar of our incompetent judgment; and to censure and slander them, and murmur at their proceedings!  Are we rich and not too much exalted?  Are we poor and not discontented, and make our worldly necessities a pretense for robbing God of all His service?

But forever blessed be omnipotent love which saves us out of all these and makes our straits but the advantages of the glory of His saving grace.  In heaven the danger and trouble is over; there is nothing but what will advance our joy.

As we rest from the temptations, so also from all the abuses and persecutions which we suffer at the hands of wicked men.  We shall be scorned, derided, imprisoned, banished, and butchered by them no more.  The prayers of the souls under the altar will then be answered and God will avenge their blood on these that dwell on the earth.  This is the time for crowning with thorns, buffeting, spitting on; that will be the time for crowning with glory.

Now we must be hated of all men for Christ’s name’s sake, and the gospel; then will Christ be admired in His saints that were thus hated.  Now because we are not of the world, therefore doth the world hate us; then, because we are not of the world, therefore will the world admire us.  Now, as they hated Christ, they will also hate us; then, as they will honor Christ, so will they also honor us.  When their flood of persecution is dried up, and the church called out of the wilderness, and the New Jerusalem come down from heaven, and mercy and justice are fully glorified, then shall we feel their fury no more.  We leave all this behind us when once we enter the City of our Rest: the names of Lollard, Huguenots, Roundheads are not there used; the inquisition of Spain is there condemned; the statute of the Six Articles is there repealed.  There are no Bishops’ or Chancellor’s Courts; no visitations nor High Commission judgments; no censures to loss of members, perpetual imprisonment, or banishment.  Christ is not there clothed in a mock robe and blindfolded.  Nor is truth clothed in the robes of error and smitten for that which it most directly contradicts.  Nor is a schismatic wounded, and a saint found bleeding; nor our friends smite us, mistaking us for their enemies.  There is none of all this blind, mad work there.

Till then possess your souls in patience; bind all reproaches as a crown to our heads; esteem them greater riches than the world’s treasures; account it a matter of joy when you fall into tribulation.  You have seen in these days that our God can deliver us; but this is nothing to our final conquest.  He will recompense tribulation to them that trouble you; and to you who are troubled rest with Christ.

We shall then also rest from our sad divisions, and unchristian quarrels with one another.  There is no contention, because none of this pride, ignorance, or other corruption.  Paul and Barnabas are now fully reconciled.  There they are, not every man conceited of his own understanding and in love with the issue of his own brain, but all admiring the divine perfection, and in love with God and one another.  Luther and Zwingli will be agreed.  There shall be a full reconciliation between Calvinists and Lutherans; Remonstrants and Contra-remonstrants; Conformists and Nonconformists.  Antinomians and Legalists are terms there not known: Presbyterians and Independents are perfectly agreed.  There is no discipline erected by state policy, nor any disordered popular rule; no government but that of Christ!

And is it not shame that our course is now so contrary?  Is it not enough that all the world is against us, but we must also be against one another?  Did I ever think to have heard Christians so to reproach and scorn Christians; and men professing the fear of God to make so little conscience of censuring, vilifying, slandering and disgracing one another?  Alas!  Once discernment has been perverted and error has possessed the supreme faculty, where will men go and what will they do?  Nay!  What will they not do?  Oh, what a potent instrument for Satan is a misguided conscience!  Today they may be orthodox, unanimous, and joined in love, and perhaps within a few weeks will be divided, and at bitter enmity, through their doting about questions that tend not to edify.

Oh happy day of the rest of the saints in glory when as there is one God, one Christ, one Spirit, so we shall have one judgment, one heart, one church, one employment forever!  When there will be no more circumcision and uncircumcision, Jew and Gentile, Anabaptist, Paedobaptist, Brownist, Separatist, Independent, Presbyterian, Episcopal: but Christ is All in All.  We shall not there scruple our communion, nor any of the ordinances of divine worship.  There will not be one for singing and another against it.  But even those who have jarred in discord shall all conjoin in blessed concord and make one melodious choir.

We shall then rest from all the sorrowful hours and sad thoughts we now undergo, by participating with our brethren in their calamities.  Alas!  If we had nothing upon ourselves to trouble us, yet what heart could lay aside sorrows that live in the sound of the church’s sufferings?  The church on earth is a mere hospital.  Whichever way we go, we hear complaining, and into whatsoever corner we cast our eyes, we behold objects of pity and grief.  Who weeps not when all these bleed?  As now our friends’ distresses are our distresses, so then our friends’ deliverance will be part of our own deliverance.  How much more comfortable to see them perfected than now to see them wounded, weak, sick and afflicted?  Our day of rest will free both them and us from all this.

Oh, the sad and heart-piercing spectacles that my eyes have seen in four years’ space!  In this fight [The English Civil War], scarce a month, scarce a week, without the sight or noise of blood.  Surely there is none of this in heaven.  Our black raiment and mourning attire will then be turned into the white robes and garments of gladness.  How hardly can my heart now hold when I think of such, and such, and such a dear Christian friend slain or departed!  How glad must the same heart needs be when I see them all alive and glorified!

But a far greater grief it is to our spirits, to see the spiritual miseries of our brethren; to see our dearest and most intimate friends to be turned aside from the truth of Christ; to see many near us in the flesh continue their neglect of Christ and their souls.  Oh, what continual sorrows do all these sad sights and thoughts fill our hearts with from day to day!  And will it not be a blessed day when we shall rest from all these?  What heart is not wounded to think on Germany’s long desolations [from the Hundred Years Wars–wars between the Catholics and Protestants after the Reformation]?  Look on England’s four years’ blood, a flourishing land almost made ruined!  Look to Scotland, look to Ireland; look almost everywhere!  Blessed be that approaching day, when our eyes shall behold no more such sights nor our ears hear any more such tidings!

We shall rest also from all our personal sufferings, whether natural or ordinary, or extraordinary, from the afflicting hand of God.  And though this may seem a small thing to those who live in continual ease, and abound in all kind of prosperity, yet, to the daily afflicted soul, it should make all thoughts of heaven delightful.  As all our senses are the inlets of sin, so are they become the inlets of our sorrow.  Grief creeps in at our eyes, at our ears, and almost everywhere.  Fears do devour us, and darken our delights, as the frosts nip the tender buds, our cares consume us, and feed upon our spirits, as the scorching sun withers the delicate flowers.  What tender pieces are these dusty bodies!  What brittle glasses do we bear about us; and how many thousand dangers are they hurried through, and how hardly cured if once cracked!

Whatever it is to the sound and healthful, to such as myself this rest should be acceptable, who in ten or twelve years’ time have scarce had a whole day free from some sorrow.  Oh, the weary nights and days; oh, the unserviceable, languishing weakness; oh, the restless working vapors; oh, the tedious, nauseous medicines, beside the daily expectation of worse!  Will it not be desirable to rest from all these?  Oh, the blessed tranquility of that region where there is nothing but sweet continued peace!  Our lives will be but one joy, as our time will be changed into one eternity.  For it shall come to pass, that in that day the Lord shall give us rest from our sorrow, and our fear, and from the hard bondage wherein we served.  The poor man shall no more be tired with his incessant labors: no more use of the plough, or flail, or scythe, or sickle; no stooping of the servant to the master, or the tenant to the landlord; no hunger, or thirst, or cold, or nakedness; no pinching frosts or scorching heats.  No more parting of friends asunder, nor voice of lamentation heard in our dwellings; no more breaches nor disproportion will be in our friendship, nor any trouble accompanying our relations.

Then shall the “the ransomed of the Lord … return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads: they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away” (Isa. 35:10).  Hold out then a little longer, oh, my soul; bear with the infirmities of thine earthly tabernacle.  It will be thus but a little while; the sound of our Redeemer’s feet are even at the door and your own deliverance nearer than many others.  And you who have often cried shall then feel that God and joy fill all your soul.  The fruition of heaven, with your freedom from all these sorrows, will more sincerely and feelingly make you know, and to His eternal praise acknowledge, that you live.

We shall rest also from all the trouble and pain of duty.  The conscientious magistrate now cries out, “Oh, the burden that lies upon me!”  The conscientious parents, who know the preciousness of their children’s souls and the constant pains required to their godly education, cry out, “Oh, the burden!”  The conscientious minister when he reads his charge and views his pattern; when he has tried awhile what it is to study, and pray and preach; to go from house to house, and from neighbor to neighbor, and to beseech them night and day with tears, and, after all, be hated and persecuted for so doing—no wonder if he cries out, “Oh, the burden!”

And seldom does a minister live to see the ripeness of his people.  But one sows and plants, another waters, and a third reaps and receives the increase.  To inform the old ignorant sinner, to convince the stubborn and worldly wise, to persuade a willful, resolved wretch, to prick a stony heart to the quick, to make a rock to weep and tremble, to set forth Christ according to our necessity and His excellency, to comfort the soul whom God dejects, to clear up dark and difficult truths, to oppose with convincing arguments all gainsayers, to credit the gospel with exemplary conversations, when multitudes do but watch for our halting.  Oh, who is sufficient for these things?  So that every conscientious Christian cries out, “Oh, the burden!  Oh, my weakness that makes it so burdensome!”  But our eternal rest will ease us of the burden.

Lastly, we shall rest from all those sad affections which necessarily accompany our absence from God.  We shall no more look into our cabinet and miss our treasure; look into our hearts and miss our Christ; nor no more seek Him from ordinance to ordinance, and inquire for our God of those we meet.  Our heart will not lie in our knee, nor our souls be breathed out in our request, but all conclude in a most full and blessed fruition.

Heaven Is an Eternal Rest

The last jewel in our crown and blessed attribute of this rest is that it is an eternal rest. This is the crown of our crown without which all were comparatively little or nothing.  The very thought of once leaving it would else embitter all our joys; and the more would it pierce us because of the singular excellencies which we must forsake.

Mortality is the disgrace of all sublunary delights.  It makes our present life of little value—were it not for the reference it has to God and eternity—to think that we must shortly lay it down.  Surely, were it not for eternity, I should think man a silly piece; and all his life and honor but contemptible; a vain shadow.  I can value nothing that shall have an end, except as it leads to that which has no end; or as it comes from that love which has neither beginning nor end.

What do I say when I talk of eternity?  Can my shallow thoughts conceive at all what that most high expression contains?  To be eternally blessed, and so blessed!  Why, surely this, if anything, is the resemblance of God: eternity is a piece of infiniteness.  Oh, then, my soul, let go thy dreams of present pleasures and loose thy hold of earth and flesh.  Fear not to enter that estate where thou shalt ever after cease thy fears.  Sit down and think about this eternity.  Study frequently, study thoroughly, this one word: eternity. And when you have learned thoroughly that one word, you will never look on books again!  What! live, and never die?  Rejoice, and ever rejoice!  Oh, what sweet words are those, never and ever.

Oh, that the gracious soul would believingly study this word everlasting.  That should revive him in his deepest agony!  Must I, Lord, thus live forever?  Then will I also love forever.  Must my joys be immortal; and shall not my thanks be also immortal?  Surely, if I shall never lose my glory, I will also never cease Thy praises.  If Thou wilt both perfect and perpetuate me and my glory, as I shall be Thine, and not my own, so shall my glory be Thy glory.  And as all did take their spring from Thee, so shall all devolve into Thee again; and as Thy glory was Thine ultimate end in my glory, so shall it also be mine when Thou hast crowned me with that glory which has no end.  And unto Thee, “eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God, be honor and glory forever and ever.  Amen.” (1 Tim. 1:17).