Everyone admits that human life under the conditions now prevailing on the earth, is a vanity—uncertain as to the time it may last, and certain as to its at last collapsing like a bubble. The difficulty is to get people to give practical effect to their knowledge on the point. Nearly every one lives as if he would live for ever, and admits in his calmer moments he is not living wisely. If there were no purpose of God and no revelation from Him as to how He would have us walk, the general folly would be excusable. If it were certain that nothing but death was before us, nothing could be wiser than the motto “Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die;” but with the certainty that Christ lives and that “it is he whom God hath appointed to be the judge of the living and the dead,” it is sheer madness for men to act in this way. It appears so at the last in every case. As men drop off one by one, survivors realise the lesson as applicable to the man that is gone, if they never realize it in their own case; particularly is this the case in an instance where a man has known and professed the truth, and abandoned it for the present world. Such an instance as this transpired not very long ago. We mention no names, but the instance itself is too pregnant with the lessons of wisdom to let it slip. He now rots in the ground. Is the record of his life such as will be of any lustre in the presence and judgment of Christ, when he comes forth at the resurrection? What is it? The newspaper tells us. “He was anxious to build up a reputation and a position in the town,” and at the time of his death, we are told “the attainment of the object of his early aspirations was fairly within view. In religious and social movements he took a lively interest: in politics he was a Liberal. He was mentioned as a probable canditate for — ward. And we believe was prepared to enter into the contest at the present election.” But now, saith the newspaper scribe, he has “passed away—his life’s work ended.” And the only consolation offered to bereaved friends is “the genuine sympathy of a very large number of the inhabitants”—people who in a hundred years will themselves be mouldering in the land of forgetfulness.
In what a ghastly light, as you stand by the side of the dead, appears the glory which they have sought for themselves in the land of the living? “A reputation and position in the town!” What is that to a dead man for whom only Christ remains—a friend or foe as the “account” may stand. Ah! what is it even for a living man? A thing that no faithful brother of Christ could obtain, for a man must speak well of the world to be a friend of the world: and to have the friendship of the world is a sign we are cloaking the truth which testifies of the world that its works are evil. No wonder “the friendship of the world is enmity with God.” No wonder Jesus said “Woe unto you when all men speak well of you.” Those who know what human nature is and what the divine requirements are, have no difficulty in fully comprehending those sayings of Christ which are so unintelligible to carnal men.
And the “religious and social movements,” and the “politics:” “What concord hath Christ with Belial?” These things are elements of the present evil world with which the saints of God have nothing to do. The saints are strangers and pilgrims like Abraham, like Christ, like Paul, waiting for the promise. Did these take part in the movements of the ungodly generation around them? Did Christ or Paul mix themselves with the politics of the Roman State? None but those who love the praise and desire the honour of men could be found (knowing the truth) to take part in the politics, and re-testing an “election,” such a thing is a simple matter of impossibility for a son of God. “He that saith I know Him, and walketh in darkness, is a liar.” The officials of the present system are by Paul styled “the rulers of the darkness of this aion!” and for a man saying “I know God,” to walk into the rulership of darkness, is to walk into the very midst of the darkness.
But the grave opens her mouth and cuts short the aspirant’s career, and takes away the opportunity of retrieving the day that might have been unto honour. What brightness is there in the prospect of meeting Christ, after putting the hand to the plough and looking back? The grave is a short cut to judgment; for the “dead know not anything.” A man is hurried, as by a side door, out of scenes of self-glorification to meet Him who will be terrible to all who say “Lord, Lord, and do not the things that he says.” How different a place is the grave to those who have taken upon themselves the toil and dishonour of Christ in the days of their vanity. Death to them is a brief repose; a sweet rest, from which they seem to instantly wake refreshed, to find Christ on the earth returned from heaven to give to every man according to his work, the sweet reward of friendship, joy, honour, and everlasting strength to those who have accepted the sorrows and dishonours of Christ, in the days of Gentile greatness.
Robert Roberts, The Christadelphian 1875
