Saints' Everlasting Rest Home Page
Heaven
Before I read this book, I thought the Puritans were a somber, serious lot. After reading it, I still do. But that doesn't mean joy was an alien concept to them. It was intrinsic to their lives -- or at least to Baxter's life, and he was one of the main Puritan teachers.
But their joy was in heaven, and their joys on earth were the joys of anticipation, and of contemplating earthly events in the light of heaven. "Oh, what a beautiful day! And if it is so beautiful on earth, imagine how beautiful heaven will be!" Or, "What an awful tragedy! But someday Christ will wipe away every tear from our eyes and we shall dwell with him forever."
Now, blessed saints, that have believed and obeyed! this is the end of faith and patience. This is it for which you prayed and waited. Do you now repent your sufferings and sorrows, your self-denial and holy walking? Are your tears of repentance now bitter or sweet?
We are now as the fish in a vessel of water, only so much as will keep them alive; but what is that to the ocean? We have a little air let in to us, to afford us breathing; but what is that to the sweet and fresh gales upon mount Sion? We have a beam of the sun to lighten our darkness, and a warm ray to keep us from freezing; but then we shall live in its light, and be revived by its heat for ever.
Then we shall rest from all our own personal sufferings. This may seem a small thing to those that live in ease and prosperity; but to the daily afflicted soul it makes the thoughts of heaven delightful. O the dying life we now live! as full of sufferings as of days and hours! Our Redeemer leaves this measure of misery upon us, to make us know for what we are beholden, to remind us of what we should else forget, to be serviceable to his wise and gracious designs, and advantageous to our full and final recovery. Grief enters at every sense, seizes every part and power of flesh and spirit. What noble part is there that suffereth its pain or ruin alone? But sin and flesh, dust and pain, will all be left behind together. O the blessed tranquillity of that region, where there is nothing but sweet continued peace! O healthful place, where none are sick! O fortunate land, where all are kings! O holy assembly, where all are priests! How free a state, where none are servants but to their supreme Monarch! The poor man shall no more be tired with his labors: no more hunger or thirst, cold or nakedness: no pinching frosts or scorching heats. Our faces shall no more be pale or sad; no more breaches in friendship, nor parting of friends asunder; no more trouble accompanying our relations, nor voice of lamentation heard in our dwellings: God shall wipe away all tears from our eyes. O my soul, bear with the infirmities of thine earthly tabernacle; it will be thus but a little while the sound of thy Redeemer's feet is even at the door.
Heaven excludes nothing more directly than sin, whether of nature or of conversation. "There shall in no wise enter any thing that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie." What need Christ at all to have died, if heaven could have contained imperfect souls?
It is the will of God that this rest should yet remain for his people, and not be enjoyed till they come to another world.... You may as well ask why have we not spring and harvest without winter? or, why is the earth below and the heavens above? as why we have not rest on earth? All things must come to their perfection by degrees. The strongest man must first be a child. The greatest scholar must first begin with the alphabet. The tallest oak was once an acorn. This life is our infancy; and would we be perfect in the womb, or born at full stature?
“Whatever we find lovely in a friend, or in a saint, ought to elevate our affections: we should conclude that if there is so much sweetness in a drop; there must be infinitely more in the fountain. If there is so much splendour in a ray, what must the sun be in its glory!”
–Henry Scougal, The Life of God in the Soul of Man