It seems, at first sight, a strange thing that the apostles should have been asleep at such a time; yet, probably, if we think of the circumstances in which they were placed, and of the extreme excitement under which they must have laboured, it will not appear at all wonderful that “Peter and they that were with him were heavy with sleep.” In the 28th verse, it is written, concerning our Lord, “He took Peter and John and James, and went up into a mountain to pray. And as he prayed, the fashion of his countenance was altered, and his raiment was white and glistering.” We know that the Saviour frequently retired to some quiet, secluded spot for fellowship with his Father; and that, sometimes, he spent the whole night in prayer. It is very probable that, on this occasion, he had been engaged in earnest prayer for several hours before the transfiguration came, and it is worthy of note that he was transfigured while he was praying. Every blessing comes to the great Head of the Church, and to all the members of his mystical body, through prayer. There is nothing promised to us without prayer; but, with prayer, everything is provided for us, and by prayer we shall ascend into the glory. I cannot tell how long the Lord had been in prayer; but, judging from his usual manner and custom, I should suppose that he had spent some hours in supplication. Even the three most highly favoured apostles were not as spiritually minded as he was, and they grew weary while he was still full of holy vigour and fervour. The most zealous amongst us might be tired of listening to the best man in the world if he were to keep on praying hour after hour, yet he himself might be enjoying a special baptism of the Spirit, and be quite unconscious of fatigue, and, in his wrestling with God, might be all the while going from strength to strength. We, who were merely onlookers, would probably grow drowsy, and be unable to keep up the strain as he would keep it up; our spirit might be willing enough to sympathize with him, but the weakness of our flesh would make us, like the apostles, “heavy with sleep.” I wonder not, therefore, if the Saviour’s supplication was long-continued, that his disciples grew weary, and fell into a state of slumber.

Probably, however, their sleeping was the result of the extraordinary excitement through which they had passed; for, as in extreme pain, kind nature comes to the rescue, and causes a swooning or fainting fit by which the poor sufferer is relieved, so sometimes she comes in when there is a stress of mental excitement, whether joyous or grievous, and gives rest, even by unwilling slumber, to those who otherwise might have been exhausted. You remember, dear friends, that these very persons fell asleep in Gethsemane. When their Master rose up from his agony of prayer, and came back to them, “he found them sleeping for sorrow.” They were themselves so depressed in spirit by his sufferings, that, although they had true sympathy with him, as far as they could have it, they fell asleep, and their Master, while gently chiding them, made excuse for them as he said, “What, could ye not watch with me one hour? Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

These apostles are not the only persons who have slept in the presence of the grandly supernatural. It happened so to Daniel,-that seer with the burning eye, who seemed as if he could look right into the glories of heaven without blinking or being blinded by the wondrous vision; yet, we read, in his 8th chapter, at the 18th verse, when an angel appeared to him, “Now as he was speaking with me, I was in a deep sleep on my face toward the ground: but he touched me, and set me upright;” and further, in the 10th chapter, at the 8th verse, we read, “Therefore I was left alone, and saw this great vision, and there remained no strength in me: for my comeliness was turned in me into corruption, and I retained no strength. Yet heard I the voice of his words: and when I heard the voice of his words, then was I in a deep sleep on my face, and my face toward the ground.” These supernatural things are too much for mortal men to endure. The narrow compass of our mind cannot contain the infinite; and if, when we behold the glory of God to an unusual degree, we do not die, if our lives are spared after we have seen that great sight, at least the image of death must come upon us, and we must fall into a deep sleep. I will not, therefore, blame Peter, and James, and John, for sleeping on that memorable occasion, for I do not think that there was any sin in their slumbering under such circumstances. They were apostles, but they were only men; and being men, they were feeble creatures, and when they came into those deep waters, they were altogether out of their depth, so they began to sink in the ocean of the divine glory, and soon were lost in the unconsciousness of sleep. Marvel not, therefore, brethren, that you find these three apostles slumbering even in the presence of their transfigured Lord.

But, now,-and this will be our first head,-it was necessary that they should be awake to see the glories of Christ. Secondly, if you and I are to see the glories of Christ, it is necessary that we also should be awake, and that is more than can be said of all of us. I may say to some, “Let us not sleep, as do others;” for there are many who are so soundly sleeping that they are quite oblivious of the glories of Christ. When I have spoken on those two points, I want to close my discourse by showing you that this doctrine of the necessity of our wakefulness explains many things.

“When they were awake, they saw his glory, and the two men that stood with him.” So, first, it was needful for them to awake to see Christ’s glory.

It was necessary, first, that Christ’s transfiguration might be known to be a fact,-not a dream, nor a piece of imagination, which had no real existence: “When they were awake, they saw his glory.” It was a literal matter of fact to them. As surely as Christ was born at Bethlehem, as certainly as he toiled in the carpenter’s shop at Nazareth, as truly as his blessed feet trudged over the holy fields of Judæa, as truly as he healed the sick and preached the gospel wherever he went, and as really as he did actually die upon the cross of Calvary, so it is a matter of plain fact that Jesus Christ did, on a certain mountain-what mountain we do not know,-undergo a wonderful change, for the time being, in which his glory was marvellously and distinctly displayed so that his three disciples could see it. “And, behold, there talked with him two men;”-Elias, who never died, and who was there with him bodily, and Moses, who did die, and so may only have been there in spirit, unless that dispute, between Michael the archangel and the devil, about the body of Moses, may relate to the fetching away of that body that he might enjoy the same privilege as Enoch and Elias did. Of that matter, I know nothing; but those two men, Moses and Elias, were certainly there,-not merely in appearance, but in reality; and our Lord Jesus Christ was really transfigured: “the fashion of his countenance was altered, and his raiment was white and glistering.” It is true that Peter did not know what he said, but he knew what he saw when he was wide awake. The Revised Version renders our text, “When they were fully awake, they saw his glory, and the two men that stood with him.” They had not imagined this scene while they were in a semiconscious state between sleeping and waking; it was no night vision or day dream, it was not something painted by fancy upon their eyeballs, and which had no actual existence; but it was a real meeting between their Lord and Moses and Elias. They did see Christ and his two companions from the glory-land, and they did hear the Father’s voice, saying, “This is my beloved Son: hear him.” Peter did not know what he said, but he knew what he heard; he was wide awake enough to understand that message, and, long afterwards, he recalled it when he wrote concerning his Lord, “For he received from God the Father honour and glory, when there came such a voice to him from the excellent glory, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased. And this voice which came from heaven we heard, when we were with him in the holy mount.” So, you see, dear friends, that they had to be awake in order that they might be able to confirm all this as an actual occurrence; and, to my mind, this is very pleasant. I like to remember that the Lord Jesus, the Man of sorrows, let some beams of his glory shine out even while he was here below; and if, in his humiliation, his transfigured face appeared so bright, what must his glory be above, where his face shines brighter than the sun, and his eyes are as a flame of fire, and his feet like unto fine brass, as if they burned in a furnace? What is now the matchless beauty of that visage which was marred more than that of any other man? When he did but for a moment withdraw the veil, his disciples were overwhelmed with the magnificence of the display; but what must it be to see his face for ever in the glory-land above?

Next, it was needful that the disciples should be awake, that they might see the real glory of Christ. I trust they were spiritual enough to know that the splendour which they saw was not the essential glory of Christ’s Godhead, for that no man can see. Neither was it that secret spiritual glory which Christ always had, for that is not a sight for human eyes to behold, but for loving hearts to think of with reverent affection. But it was a special glory which was, for the time, shed upon his humanity, and even upon the garments in which that humanity was arrayed, so that “his raiment was white and glistering.” The apostles then saw Christ in some measure as he will be by-and-by; and, being fully awake, they knew that it was not a phantasm that they were looking upon, but that it was real glory which streamed from the Saviour’s face, and from every part of his most blessed and adorable person. We are glad to know that Christ has no fictitious honours, and no empty pomp; but that there is about him a real glory which our opened eyes may see, and which we may perceive without being fanatical or frenzied; such a glory as we can see in the time of our quiet, calm judgment, and earnest, deliberate thought, when every faculty is in full exercise, and our whole soul is in the enjoyment of the utmost degree of vigorous health. I care little for the visions that need night, and curtains, and dreams, before they can be perceived; I prefer the glory which can be seen by a man when he is fully awake, and all his faculties are aroused so that he is able to discern between truth and fiction, and to detect any imposition that may be attempted to be played upon him.

Further, these disciples were fully awake that they might perceive somewhat of the greatness of Christ’s glory. Do you not envy these three holy men who saw our Lord in the holy mount? So glorious was he, that even the mountain itself was made “holy” wherein this transaction occurred, for so Peter called it; from that time it was as holy as Sinai itself, where God came down in terrible pomp of power to proclaim his law. Had not these apostles been wide awake, they would not have perceived how truly marvellous is Christ’s glory. What would not any one of us give, just now, for a sight of Christ with our eyes wide awake? What must he be like who is the very centre of heaven’s glory? All the grandeur of man is but external; but there is about Christ’s very face a beauty of character which continually shines out,-the lustre of Deity which gleams through his humanity, so that, to see him as he is must be the fairest sight in the whole universe. To behold him but for a moment, must be the most dazzling vision that ever fell to the lot of men. Did you ever hear dying men and women talk about him when they have begun to see him? What strange words sometimes drop from their lips just as they are departing this life-giving us just a hint as to how grand he must be whose glory the apostles saw when they were with him in the holy mount!

One thing which they were fully awake to see was this, the singularity of the glory. If you read the text, you will notice that, when they were awake, “they saw his glory,”-and the glory of Moses and Elias? Oh, no! not at all. But did they not see Moses and Elias? Yes, but mark how the text sinks, as it were, when it speaks of them: “They saw his glory, and the two men that stood with him.” There is nothing about any glory being around or upon them; they are nothing but “the two men that stood with him.” He is fairer than the children of men, greater than Moses, and greater than Elias, mighty as both of them were. I think that we never truly see Christ until we behold him all alone; as we never see the sun and the stars at the same time. If you once see the sun flooding the sky with his glory, you will find that the stars have disappeared. The apostles saw the greatest of the prophets, and the great law-giver, after whom there was never the like till Christ himself came, yet the inspired record concerning the event is, “They saw his glory, and the two men that stood with him.” May you never see any earthly representatives of the Church of God in any higher place than this! In the Church, and in all its ministers, may you see his glory, and the men that stand with him; and when you look upon those whose feet are beautiful because they proclaim the gospel of Christ, yet may you only see his glory, and the men that stand with him to speak in his name!

The apostles needed to be wide awake to discern this difference, and so do we; for many, nowadays, seem to have no more respect for Christ than they have for his disciples. I trow that there are some who think more of a dogma, that was promulgated by Calvin, because it is Calvin’s, than they do of that which Christ has preached because it is Christ’s; and there are some who will refer everything they believe to “The Minutes of Conference,” or the sayings of Mr. Wesley; but some of the sayings of Christ do not seem to have so much weight with them. As for us, I trust that we may ever see the true and noble men who stand with Christ; but, first of all, may we see his glory, because Christ has awakened us out of that sinful sleep in which we make no distinction between the Master and the servant! Happy are we if he has taught us that the greatest of his servants is not worthy to unloose the latchets of his shoes.

So much, then, upon the necessity for these three men being fully awake.

Now, brethren, let me speak to you upon the second part of our subject, which is, that it is necessary for us also to be awake if we are to see Christ’s glory.

We have not dreamt our religion, it has not come to us as a vision of the night; but when we were fully awake, we saw Christ’s glory. We have seen his glory when we have been awake without weariness, awake without pain, awake without losses, awake without fears and tremblings; in our coolest moments, when there was the least likelihood of our being deceived, we have seen his glory as our Saviour, our Helper, our Keeper, our All-in-all. Set that fact down, then, and stand to it before the face of every man who dares to speak a word against Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God, that just as truly as “when they were awake, they saw his glory,” so have we seen it in our most wakeful and calm and quiet moments.

But, dear friends, let me impress upon your minds the truth that, in order to see the glory of Christ, it is necessary that we should be fully awake. Are we fully awake? Is there a man among us who has even one eye wide open? Is there not a corner of it still sealed? Are our mental and spiritual faculties really quickened to the utmost, or are we not still, to a large extent, as dreamers compared with what we ought to be in the presence of Christ? Come now, brother, are your highest powers thoroughly aroused? I believe that it was so with Peter, and James, and John, and that what little spiritual faculty they then possessed-for they were then but babes in grace,-was fully aroused to learn all that could be learnt from their Lord and Master in that mysterious manifestation of his glory. Are we in such a condition as that? There are many things that tend to make the soul go off into sleep; so let us bestir ourselves, for, unless all our powers of mind and heart are fixed upon our Lord, we shall not fully behold his glory; and if ever there was a sight that demanded and deserved all a man’s powers of vision, it is the sight of the glorious Saviour who stooped to die for us, and who now is at the Father’s right hand interceding for us. When you do hear the gospel, hear it with both your ears, and with your whole heart and soul. When you are present in the assembly of the saints, be really there; and do not come, as some men do, leaving their real selves at home or at their place of business. They sit here, and we think that they are here, but they are not. Their thoughts are far away over the seas, or in their shops, even when the preacher is proclaiming the glorious gospel of the blessed God. You know that it is so with many, but we cannot expect to have a clear sight of Christ until we are fully awake as these three apostles were upon the mount.

But to what shall we be awake? Well, first, it is a good thing to be awake to our present condition and circumstances. Brothers, sisters, you would be in hell within an hour if God did not keep you from it by his grace. You, who think you know him best, need constant supplies of his grace, else you would fall into the most sorrowful condition. You are dependent upon him every instant, and for everything;-for consistency of life, for the smallest grain of faith, for hope, for love, for peace, for joy, for steadfastness, for courage, for everything, again I say. Now, dear friend, are you fully awake to that fact? Do any of us really feel how weak we are,-how sinful we are,-what floods of depravity there are pent up within us ready to burst out at any moment? Do we realize what terrible volcanic fires are hidden within our thoughts, as if the fury of Gehenna had entered our nature? And who alone can save us, and who does save us? Brethren, when you are thoroughly awake to your dangers, to your needs, to your weaknesses, then you will see Christ’s glory. He is never rightly valued until we see ourselves to be utterly valueless. Low thoughts of self make high thoughts of Christ. Lord, awake us to know what we are, for then shall we begin to see the glories of thy Son!

We must also be thoroughly awake to the mercies that we are constantly receiving. Thousands of blessings come to us when we are sound asleep in our beds; and, oftentimes, we know nothing of many favours that come to us in broad daylight; we are asleep, as it were, concerning them. Think, dear Christian people, of your election; think of your redemption; think of your effectual calling; think of your cleansing by the precious blood; think of your washing by the Spirit with water by the Word; think how you have been upheld, supplied, educated, comforted, strengthened. Think of what yet remains for you of peace and joy in this life, and of the abundant entrance into the everlasting kingdom of your Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. Let your mind contemplate all the mercies that are sure to come to you, and bless the Lord for them even before they do come, as faith reckons them to be hers already. When you are awake to all these mercies, then you will see your Lord’s glory; all these blessings will make you see what a glorious Saviour-what an infinitely gracious Lord-he is to you. Father of mercies, wake us up to a sense of thy mercies, that we may see the glory of Jesus in them all!

And, dear friends, we ought also to be awake to all manner of holy exercises. For instance, when we are awake to prayer, then we see Christ’s glory. What are our prayers often? At morning and night, a few hurried sentences, when we are either half-asleep or scarcely awake. I mean that, at night, we are ready to go to sleep over our devotions, and we nod even while we pray; and in the morning, when we get up, we have hardly time, through the demands of business, to spend a proper season in fellowship with our Lord. I bless God for our prayer-meetings, for there is much that is good in them; but do we, even there, pray as we should? Those who speak for us are often graciously helped, but are not those of us who sit silent, and who should be praying to God, often thinking of a thousand things instead of our supplications? Yet we cannot expect to meet with Christ while we are in prayer unless we are wide awake in it. Then think of our singing; praise is a blessed way of getting near to Christ; but sometimes people sing mechanically, as if they were wound up, like the old-fashioned organs that ground out a tune with painful regularity, the poor pipes knowing nothing, of course, about the sense or the meaning of the music, for there was no living hand to touch the keys. Yet we sometimes sing like that.

“Hosannahs languish on our tongues,

And our devotion dies.”

But, oh! when we are thoroughly awake in our singing, then are we able to-

“Behold the glories of the Lamb

Amidst his Father’s throne;”-

and then also we-

“Prepare new honours for his name,

And songs before unknown.”

Many of us are coming presently to the table of our Lord; what will happen if we come there half-awake? Well, we shall not see the glory of Christ in his ordinance. There will be bread and there will be wine; but, to us, there will be nothing more, no body of Christ, no blood of Christ, to be our spiritual meat and drink. The Master will not come and sit down with a company of nodding disciples, all fast asleep around the table which is the special memorial of his great love to us. “When they were awake, they saw his glory;” and it must be the same with us also.

Now I want to press this thought home a little more closely. Brethren, if we are fully awake to holy service, then we shall see the glory of Christ. Those among you who live to win souls for Christ, whose soul is all on fire to try and carry the gospel into some place where as yet it is not known, are certain to see the glory of Christ. While you serve him, you shall see his face, as they do who are with him in the glory. I have read a great many biographies of men and women who were full of doubts and fears; but when I have been reading about a man who was full of sacred zeal, one who was wholly consecrated to the service of his Saviour, I have found very little about his doubts and fears. Those two seraphic men, Whitefield and Wesley, seemed to have no time for depression of spirits. They were always about their Master’s business. They flashed through the earth like flames of fire; they seemed to be so girt about by God with his strength that they rode upon the whirlwind; and, consequently, as a rule, they enjoyed the presence of their Lord, and were full of holy delight in him. So I believe it will be with those of us who addict ourselves to our Master’s service with all our might. If you are doing nothing for Christ, you cannot expect to have his presence and blessing; but if you are serving him with all your heart, not from the low motive that you may win something by it, but entirely out of love to him, then will he come and manifest himself to you as he does not unto the world. Some Christians walk so slowly that sin easily overtakes them, while Christ goes far before them, for he always walks a good honest pace, and likes not the sluggard’s crawling; and some professors seldom get beyond that pace, so they see but little of him whom they call Master. If they were awake,-awake to his service,-then they would see his glory.

But above all, dear friends, we must be awake with regard to our Lord himself. Oh, that our hearts were fully awake to his love! He says to each believer, “I have loved thee with an everlasting love.” Does our wakeful heart reply, “Yes, Lord, that thou hast”? Are we awake to remember all that he did by way of love even to the death for us? Are we so awake as to have continually before us his divine and human person,-his blessed condescending life,-his wondrous atoning death? Are we wide enough awake to know that he is with us now? Do you not think that we are often like the disciples who saw Jesus standing by the sea, and knew not that it was Jesus? He comes to us in the way of sickness, in the way of bereavement, in the way of heart-searching; we do not know that it is Jesus, yet it is. Our eyes are holden because of our sleeping; if we were awake, we should soon perceive his glory. O blessed Saviour, by thy cross and passion, by thy glorious resurrection and ascension, arouse all our spirits to perceive that thou art not far from any one of thy people, and that thy word is still true, “Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world.”

I must not keep you much longer, but I want to say that this doctrine of the necessity of our wakefulness, in order that we may see the glory of Christ, throws a light on several things.

First, it shows us why some see so little of the glory of Christ. “Ah!” says one, “I used to see it; I could not get through a sermon without being moved at the thought of my Saviour suffering for me, and rising for me; but now I do not seem to get any good out of all the services I attend.” Whose fault is that? It is not his, for he is unchanged. Is it mine? Perhaps so; and yet, since others do see him, surely the blame cannot be all mine. Is it not your fault, friend? You are not as wide awake as you used to be. It is a curious thing when a man says, “I do not know how it is that I cannot see as I used to do.” Why, he has not got his eyes open! Foolish man, let him rouse himself; and when he is thoroughly awake, then his eyes will be as good as ever, and he will see as much of his Lord’s glory as he used to do. Old age has not come upon you yet, my brother, though you sorrowfully sing,-

“Where is the blessedness I knew

When first I saw the Lord?”

Let me alter one line of the hymn, and then you may sing,-

“Where is the wakefulness I knew,

When first I saw the Lord?”

When you first joined the church, you were all-alive, every power of your being was full of zeal and earnestness. Do you recollect how you stood in the aisle, and never seemed to get tired? You wished that the preacher would keep on for another half-hour. You remember how you could walk several miles to the service then; and when the minister said, “I think you live too far away to worship with us,” you replied, “Oh, no, sir! the distance is nothing when I get such food for my soul as I find here. I am glad of the walk; it does me good.” Now you write a little note to say that you live so far off that you cannot often come to the services. It also happens that you live far from every other place of worship, too, so you begin to stay away from the house of God, and then you wonder that you feel no power and no delight in your Lord. Of course you do not, for you are sound asleep; when you again awake, you will see Christ’s glory. Oh! for wakeful piety, earnest religion, and plenty of it;-no mere sprinkling of grace, but a thorough immersion into the very depths of it! May the Lord, in his mercy, cause you to be filled with all the fulness of God, by the power of his Spirit, till you shall be carried right away into a holy life that shall write over the natural life of your manhood, “I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me.”

Next, does not this fact explain why, in trials, we often get our sweetest fellowship with Christ? If I might mark out the happiest periods of my life, I should not choose those in which outward mercies have been multiplied, and success has followed success; but I think that I should specially note those times when abuse followed abuse, when I could hardly say a word without its being misrepresented, and something horrible being made out of things which were as good as good could be,-when lies flew about me as bullets whistle round the warrior’s ears in the midst of the battle;-then it was that I kept close to Christ, and lived on him alone, and I was among the happiest of the happy. When the dog barks, then the inmates of the household wake up, and the burglars will not be likely to get in; and, sometimes, our troubles are the very best things that can happen to us, because they wake us up, and drive Satan away, and fit us to see Christ’s glory. We got into a careless, drowsy condition when we were rich and increased in goods, and then we went to sleep; so our Master came, and pulled the bed from under us, and made us feel the cold; then we woke up, and found that Christ was close beside us, and our heart was glad. Thus, affliction or trial is often a blessed means of grace, because it wakes us up, so that we see Christ’s glory.

This fact also explains why dying saints often declare that they have such blessed sights of Christ. Is it not because, as they die, they really begin to live? They shake off the dull encumbrance of this house of clay, and they get into a clearer light, and so they truly live. They wake up when they die. All their lifetime, their business engagements or other cares occupied their thoughts; but now they have done with business, and with care, and they begin to awake, for the morning cometh,-the blessed, everlasting morning that shall never know an eventide, and they awake, and see the glory of their Lord; and we, who sit by their bedside, are often amazed, we cannot understand what they describe, for we are the sleeping ones, and they are the wakers, waking up to see Christ’s glory.

But suppose that I were to take my text just for a minute, and project it a little way into the future. We shall soon fall asleep, brothers and sisters. Some of the older ones among us will certainly do so, others of us very probably will do so, and all of us, unless the Lord shall come first, shall soon fall into that last quiet slumber which we call death. But what a waking there will be, first of our soul, when we shall see our Lord as he is! What must the first five minutes in heaven be, if there are any minutes where time is swallowed up in eternity! What must be the joy when, for the first time, we enter that land where “they need no candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light”! When we shall see the saints in heaven, I suppose that we shall not say much about them; they will be like Moses and Elias, “the two men that stood with him.” But, oh! when we shall get our first glimpse of Jesus on his throne, what a sight that will be, ravishing beyond all conception! And then, when the next awakening comes, when the trumpet sounds its mighty blast, and these poor limbs arise out of their beds of clay, when we are awake, we shall see his glory. Then shall we be satisfied, when we awake in his likeness; and then shall his prayer be answered, “Father, I will that they also, whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am; that they may behold my glory.” Well, beloved, be content to go to bed when there is such a waking in store for you. Learn to die every day; regard your bed as a tomb; and every time you give yourself up to unconsciousness, and the image of death is upon you, be practising the art of dying, so that when, for the last time, you must go upstairs, and lie down once again, it may be very, very sweet to feel, “I shall awake in the morning, the everlasting morning, when all these shadows of this night of grief and toil shall eternally have fled away. When I am awake, I shall see his glory.”

The Lord grant to you and to me, dear friends, to know all the bliss of awakening to behold his glory! Amen.

Exposition by C. H. Spurgeon*

MATTHEW 17:1-5

Verses 1, 2. And after six days Jesus taketh Peter, James, and John his brother, and bringeth them up into an high mountain apart, and was transfigured before them: and his face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light.

Were these “six days” a week’s quiet interval, in which our Lord prepared himself for the singular transaction upon the “mountain apart”? Did the little company of three know from one Sabbath to another that such an amazing joy awaited them? The three were elect out of the elect, and favoured to see what none else in all the world might behold. Doubtless our Lord had reasons for his choice, as he has for every choice he makes; but he does not unveil them to us. The same three beheld the agony in the garden; perhaps the first sight was necessary to sustain their faith under the second.

The name of the “high mountain” can never be known; for those who knew the locality have left no information. Tabor, if you please; Hermon, if you prefer it. No one can decide. It was a lone and lofty hill.

While in prayer, the splendour of the Lord shone out. His face, lit up with its own inner glory, became a sun; and all his dress, like clouds irradiated by that sun, became white as the light itself. “He was transfigured before them:” he alone was the centre of what they saw. It was a marvellous unveiling of the hidden nature of the Lord Jesus. Then was, in one way, fulfilled the word of John: “The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, and we beheld his glory.”

The transfiguration occurred but once: special views of the glory of Christ are not enjoyed every day. Our highest joy on earth is to see Jesus. There can be no greater bliss in heaven; but we shall be better able to endure the exceeding bliss when we have laid aside the burden of this flesh.

3. And, behold, there appeared unto them Moses and Elias talking with him.

Thus the Law and the Prophets, “Moses and Elias,” communed with our Lord, “talking with him,” and entering into familiar conversation with their Lord. Saints long departed still live; live in their personality; are known by their names; and enjoy near access to Christ. It is a great joy to holy ones to be with Jesus: they find it heaven to be where they can talk with him. The heads of former dispensations conversed with the Lord as to his decease, by which a new economy would be ushered in. After condescending so long to his ignorant followers, it must have been a great relief to the human soul of Jesus to talk with two master-minds like those of Moses and Elijah. What a sight for the apostles, this glorious trio! They “appeared unto them,” but they “talked with him;” the object of the two holy ones was not to converse with apostles, but with their Master. Although saints are seen of men, their fellowship is with Jesus.

4. Then answered Peter, and said unto Jesus, Lord, it is good for us to be here: if thou wilt, let us make here three tabernacles; one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias.

The sight spoke to the three beholders, and they felt bound to answer to it. Peter must speak: “Then answered Peter.” That which is uppermost comes out: “Lord, it is good for us to be here.” Everybody was of his opinion. Who would not have been? Because it was so good, he would fain stay in this beatific state, and get still more good from it. But he has not lost his reverence, and therefore he would have the great ones sheltered suitably. He submits the proposal to Jesus: “If thou wilt.” He offers that, with his brethren, he will plan and build shrines for the three holy ones: “Let us make here three tabernacles.” He does not propose to build for himself, and James, and John; but he says, “One for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias.” His talk sounds rather like that of a bewildered child. He wanders a little; yet his expression is a most natural one. Who would not wish to abide in such society as this? Moses, and Elias, and Jesus: what company! But yet how unpractical is Peter! How selfish the one thought, “It is good for us”! What was to be done for the rest of the twelve, and for the other disciples, and for the wide, wide world? A sip of such bliss might be good for the three, but to continue to drink thereof might not have been really good even for them. Peter knew not what he said. The like might be said of many another excited utterance of enthusiastic saints.

5. While he yet spake, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them: and behold a voice out of the cloud, which said, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear ye him.

“While he yet spake.” Such wild talk might well be interrupted. What a blessed interruption! We may often thank the Lord for stopping our babbling. “A bright cloud overshadowed them.” It was bright, and cast a shadow. They felt that they were entering it, and feared as they did so. It was a singular experience; yet we have had it repeated in our own cases. Do we not know what it is to get shadow out of brightness, and “a voice out of the cloud”? This is after the frequent manner of the Lord in dealing with his favoured ones.

The voice was clear and distinct. First came the divine attestation of the Sonship of our Lord, “This is my beloved Son,” and the Father’s declaration of delight in him, “in whom I am well pleased.” What happiness for us that Jehovah is well pleased in Christ, and with all who are in him! Then followed the consequent divine requirement, “Hear ye him.” It is better to hear the Son of God than to see saints, or to build tabernacles. This will please the Father more than all else that love can suggest.

The good pleasure of the Father in the Lord Jesus is a conspicuous part of his glory. The voice conveyed to the ear a greater glory than the lustre of light could communicate through the eye. The audible part of the transfiguration was as wonderful as the visible.

Hymns from “Our Own Hymn Book”-421, 292, 425.

FALLEN ASLEEP

A Sermon

Intended for Reading on Lord’s-day, January 28th, 1900, (C. H. Spurgeon Memorial Sabbath,) delivered by

C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington,

On Lord’s-day Evening, January 29th, 1882, just ten years before he also fell asleep in Jesus.

“Some are fallen asleep.”-1 Corinthians 15:6.

Writing concerning the brethren who had seen the Lord Jesus Christ after his resurrection, and of whom “above five hundred” were present at one time, Paul said that, at the date when he was writing this Epistle, “the greater part” remained alive, “but,” he added, “some are fallen asleep.”

We might have thought that God, in great mercy, would have preserved the lives of those five hundred brethren to an extreme old age, that, in every part of the globe, there might be extant, as long as possible, someone who would be able to say, “I beheld the Son of God when he was upon the earth. I heard him preach. I saw him die on the cross, and then I looked upon him again after he had risen from the grave;” for every one of these witnesses was worth his weight in gold to the Christian religion. Wherever such a man lived, he must have been, under the blessing of God, the means of convincing many people of the truth of our glorious faith. Yet, dear friends, it does not appear that these invaluable brethren were spared by the shafts of death. These witnesses of Christ’s resurrection died as other men did. They had no immunity from death, and no extreme old age was granted to them, for the apostle, writing not so very long after the event, said, “Some are fallen asleep.”

From this fact, I gather that lives, which appear to us to be extremely necessary, may not be so regarded by God. Your own observation will, I am sure, agree with mine, that the Lord sometimes takes away from us those whom we can least spare. Those, who seemed to be the pillars of the church, have been suddenly removed. The fathers amongst us, those who have been the bravest confessors of the faith, or the most useful servants of the Saviour, have been called away. This should teach us,-if we are wise enough to learn the lesson,-to regard the most invaluable person in our own Israel as being only lent to us by the Lord, for a season, and liable to be summoned to higher service at any moment. Possibly, God takes some men away from us because we think them absolutely needful. He will not let us trust in an arm of flesh; and if he is so condescending as to use human feebleness, and then we go and confide in the feebleness, and suppose that God’s strength is tied up to it, in secret jealousy he removes the instruments that he has used, that men may learn not to glory in their fellow-men, or to make idols out of their Christian brethren and fathers.

It is probable that these witnesses of Christ’s resurrection enjoyed a large measure of reverence from the members of the Christian Church. Had they lived very long, they might have been regarded with a superstitious and almost idolatrous reverence. God intended that his Church should increasingly live by faith, not by sight; so, while she was in her infancy he gave her the prop of miracles and also the support of living witnesses; but when she had somewhat increased in strength, he no longer gave the power to work miracles, but left her to rest upon his Word alone; and as she further progressed, he, in a few years, took away the earthly witnesses of Christ’s life, and death, and resurrection, that the Eternal Spirit, working through the Word, might stand, to all time, as the living and unfailing Witness of the fact that Jesus lived, and died, and “rose again the third day according to the Scriptures.”

The lesson for us all to learn is just this, let us not set too much store by any of God’s servants; and, especially, let us never reckon that we are essential to the carrying on of his work. The fly upon the chariot wheel was easily to be dispensed with, and so are we. Like shadows have we come; like shadows shall we go. We may be missed; I hope we shall all live so that many will miss us when we are gone; but they will brush their tears away, and both the world and the Church-and especially the Church-will continue to go on without us. While Jesus lives, whoever may die, we shall never have to say, “My father, my father, the chariot of Israel, and the horsemen thereof;” but still shall the Church of God flourish and increase, for the Spirit of God is with her.

Paul wrote, “Some are fallen asleep.” Of course, all the witnesses, who saw Christ personally, have long ago fallen asleep; but, among ourselves, it is also true that “some are fallen asleep;” and the truth is impressed upon us more and more forcibly every week. I never expect now to come to this place, on two succeeding Sabbaths, without hearing that some one or other of our friends has departed. Our death-rate, for many years, has been wonderfully small, for God seems to have favoured us by sparing us to one another. We must not forget that, in past days, more of our number were young than is the case with us now; and as we all march onwards towards the inevitable river, the deaths will naturally be more numerous among us than they have been. They are beginning to be so already, and I am continually hearing of one or another of our most useful brethren or sisters being “called home.” Almost every day, this truth is impressed upon me: “Some are fallen asleep.” I suppose that, all the year round, almost as regularly as the clock ticks, about two a week of our church-members, beside others out of the congregation, are taken up to dwell in the Master’s presence. So my subject concerns us just as much as it did those of whom and to whom the apostle wrote.

Now, coming to the text, I call your attention, first, to the figure herb used: “Some are fallen asleep.”

In the heathen part of the catacombs of Rome, the inscriptions over the place where their dead were buried are full of lamentation and despair. Indeed, the writers of those inscriptions do not appear to have been able to find words in which they could express their great distress, their agony of heart, at the loss of child, or husband, or friend. They pile the mournful words together, to try to describe their grief. Sometimes, they declare that the light has gone from their sky now their dear ones are taken from them. “Alas! alas!” says the record, “dear Caius has gone, and with him all joy is quenched for ever, for I shall see him no more.” Heathenism is hopeless to afford any comfort to the bereaved. But when you come into that part of the catacombs which was devoted to Christian sepulture, everything is different. There you may constantly read these consoling words, “He sleeps in peace.” There is nothing dreadful or despairing in the inscriptions there; they are submissive, they are cheerful, they are even thankful; frequently, they are victorious, and the most common emblem is-not the quenched torch, as it is on the heathen side, where the light is supposed to have gone out for ever,-but the palm branch, to signify that the victory remains eternally with the departed one. It is the glory of the Christian religion to have let light into the sepulchre, to have taken the sting away from death, and, in fact, to have made it no more death to die.

The figure here used is that of falling asleep; it describes first the act, and then the state: “Some are fallen asleep.” That is the act of death. Having fallen asleep, they remain so; that is the state of death. For a Christian to die, is, according to Scripture, an act of the most natural kind, for it is but to fall asleep. What that act really is, in its literal meaning, I cannot fully explain to you, though I know by long personal experience; and all of you know, and will soon know again if you are permitted to fall asleep to-night and to wake in the morning. Yet you never knew exactly when you went to sleep. You have often wanted to go to sleep, but you could not; and probably nobody has ever gone to sleep while he has tried to do so; but it is when all idea of forcing slumber has gone from us that gradually we pass into a state of unconsciousness. Such, perhaps, is death;-the sinking away, and becoming unconscious of this world, and asleep to it, though happily conscious of another world, and sweetly awake to it. That is the act of falling asleep.

Then, after the act of falling asleep, which is death, comes the state of sleep, in which rest is the main ingredient. Are believers then asleep? Yes, and no. Never make a figure run on four legs when it was only meant to go on two. Some people, when they get hold of a metaphor, want to make it have as many feet as a centipede, and they seek to draw all sorts of parallels which were never intended to be drawn. The fact is, that the saints sleep, first, as to their bodies. There they lie in the cemetery,-which means, the sleeping-place,-till dawns the bright illustrious day when those bodies shall wake again. As for their souls, they are asleep as to this world; their memory and their love are things of the past; they are alike unknowing and unknown as far as this earth is concerned. As to that other world, we read that they shall be “for ever with the Lord.” Our Saviour said to the penitent thief, “To-day shalt thou be with me in paradise;” and the prayer of Christ for his people was, that we might be with him where he is,-not to be asleep,-but to behold his glory, the glory which the Father had given him. Hence, the word “sleep” is not to be regarded as implying that the souls of the departed lie in a state of unconsciousness. It is nothing of the kind; it is unconsciousness as to the things of time and sense, but a blessed consciousness as to another and a fairer and brighter and better world than this. Even while I am in this mortal state, when I am asleep, though I may be unaware of anything that is happening in my bedroom, yet, full often, in my sleep, my mind is soaring on the wings of eagles, mounting up to heaven, or diving into the depths, conscious of dreamland, and of the spirit land, though unconscious of the present world for the time being.

The meaning of the term is evidently this,-as sleep brings to us rest, the blessed ones, who have fallen asleep in Christ, are perfectly at rest. It is delightful for a man, who has worked very hard all day, to forget his toils, and fall asleep. Well did Young write, in his Night Thoughts, concerning-

“Tired nature’s sweet restorer, balmy sleep.”

In his sleep, the prisoner in the dungeon forgets his manacles; the slave in the galley forgets his bondage; the poor man forgets his poverty, and he who dreads the approach of danger, drinks a draught of the waters of Lethe, and remembers his fears no more. What a blessing sleep is to this poor, weary frame and to the throbbing brain! The saints in heaven have a better rest than sleep can give, but sleep is the nearest word we can find to describe the state of the blessed. They have no poverty, no toil, no anguish of spirit, no remorse, no struggling with indwelling sin, no battling with foes without and fears within. “They rest from their labours, and their works do follow them.” Oh, what a sweet thing to fall asleep, if this be what it is,-to enjoy perfect repose, and to be beyond the reach of all influences which make life here to be so sorrowful! “Some are fallen asleep;” that is, they have entered into their rest.

By falling asleep, again, is meant a state of security. The man who is in the battle may be wounded, and may die; but he who has gone up to his chamber to sleep is supposed there to be at peace, and out of the reach of danger, though that is not always the case. But, in those heavenly chambers where the Lord shall hide away his people, they shall be perfectly secure. They will never have to keep watch against “the arrow that flieth by day,” or “the pestilence that walketh in darkness.” They are out of gunshot of the enemy. As Dr. Payson said, when he was dying, “The battle is fought;” so is it with them, the battle is fought, and the victory is won for ever. Therefore have they ascended to the hill-tops of glory, and to the chambers of eternal rest; and there they sleep while we still struggle hand to hand with the enemy, with many a deadly thrust, and many an ugly wound. God be praised that there is a place of safety for all the soldiers of the cross! “Some are fallen asleep,” and so shall we, in due time, if we are fighting under the banner of Emmanuel, God with us.

Now let us learn, from this figure of falling asleep, a little about death; and, especially, about a Christian’s death. I learn from it, first, that the act is not a painful one, nor even a disagreeable one. As I have said before, I cannot really tell what falling asleep is, for in the very act we ourselves pass out of the consciousness of it; but, as far as one has watched children falling asleep, there certainly is no appearance of any pain, for usually they drop off into slumber very happily, and that is how God’s people shall do when they fall asleep in Jesus. Do not regard your departure out of the world as a thing to be surrounded with horror; do not conjure up hobgoblins, and evil spirits, and darkness, and terror. “The valley of the shadow of death,” of which David spoke, I do not think was ever meant to be applied to dying, for it is a valley that he walks through, and he comes out again at the other side of it; and it is not the valley of death, but only of “the shadow of death.” I have walked through that valley many a time,-right through from one end of it to the other, and yet I have not died. The grim shadow of something worse than death has fallen over my spirit, but God has been with me, as he was with David, and his rod and his staff have comforted me; and many here can say the same, and I believe that, often, those who feel great gloom in going through “the valley of the shadow of death,” feel no gloom at all when they come to the valley of death itself. There has generally been brightness there for the most sorrowful spirits; and those who, before coming there, have grovelled in the dust, have been enabled to mount as on eagles’ wings when they have actually come to the place of their departure into the future state.

The more you think this matter over, the more clearly will it appear to you that there cannot be any pain in death; all pain must be connected with life, it is the living who suffer. In death, we forget all pain. That gentle touch, that divine love-pat that shall end all pain and sorrow, is the thing which men usually call death, but which the apostle rightly calls sleep. There is nothing to be dreaded in it; it may be altogether unattended with pain; I believe that, full often, it is so. To fall asleep is a very natural act, and so it is for us to die. A little child has been playing in the field gathering buttercups and daisies all day long; but, at last, tired right out, he drops asleep upon his mother’s lap; what could he do better? So, though we may be unwilling to die, the time will come when we shall have finished our life,-work or play, whichever you may please to call it,-and we shall fall asleep upon the bosom of our God; what better thing could we do? There is a dear old friend of mine, now in heaven; and when he came to this house, one Sabbath-day, I said to him, “Our old friend So-and-so has gone home.” The one to whom I spoke was an old man himself, one of our most gracious elders, and he looked at me in a most significant way, and his eyes twinkled as he said, “He could not do better, dear Pastor; he could not do better; and you and I will do the same thing one of these days. We also shall go home!” Our aged friend, as I told you, has himself gone home since that time, and now I may say of him, “He could not have done better.” Why! that is where good children always go at night,-home. If they ran away, where would they go? When our night comes, beloved children of God, you and I also must go home; do we feel at all afraid of such a prospect? If so, surely our love to our Heavenly Father, and to our Elder Brother, and to our home above, must be growing somewhat cold.

And then, again, if we did not die, we should wish to do so. Certainly, when people cannot sleep, that is the very thing they crave for. There have, perhaps, been times when you have been ready to take something which would help to keep you awake when you have needed to do some special work, or to watch over some precious sick one; but when night follows night, and there has been no sleep for you, you do not want anything to keep you awake then, but you long for sleep. “Oh, that I could sleep!” you cry. We regard it, always, as a bad symptom when the sufferer says, “I cannot sleep.” The disciples said, concerning Lazarus, “If he sleep, he shall do well;” and they spoke wisely, although they misunderstood the meaning of the word sleep in that connection; and, surely, we shall do well when we fall asleep in Jesus. It shall become to us the most blessed thing that God himself can send us. Oh, if we could not die, it would be indeed horrible! Who wants to be chained to this poor life for a century or longer? There came to me one, of whom I may tell the story, for he is dead now; and he said that, if I would do his bidding, I should live for ever here, for he had discovered a great secret by which men need never die. I said to him, “Sir, you seem to me like a man of seventy, and I should say that you are getting on towards death yourself.” He replied, “Oh, no! I expect some little rash will come out all over me, in a few years, and then I shall be quite young again, and start living for another hundred years.” He told me that the people would believe his teaching when he had been here six or seven hundred years, and I answered that I thought it was very likely that they would! He offered to share his great secret with me, dear good man that he was; but I replied, “I would not give a button with the shank off to know it; why should I want to live in this wretched penal colony for ever?” He talked to me for some little time, and when he found that he could make no impression on me, to consummate his madness, he asked me to go outside my door with him; he lifted up the knocker, and rapped two or three times, saying very solemnly, “Too late! Too late! Ye cannot enter now.” He said that he had shut me out of the blessing of living here for ever; so I said to him, “I am very much obliged to you for doing me such a kindness.” He printed books, and gave lectures on the subject, being fully persuaded in his own mind that he would never die; but he has died, I knew he would, and I told him so. He said it was my want of faith which made me talk like that, but he himself was confident that he should never die. Oh, what an awful thing it would be if that man’s fad could be a fact! Superstition declares it to be the curse upon “the wandering Jew” that he should never die. God be thanked that such a curse has never fallen upon us! No, unless the Lord should come first, we shall fall asleep in him; and what a blessed thing it must be to fall asleep on the bosom of Christ! The child may be afraid to be put to bed in the dark, but it never fears to fall asleep upon its mother’s breast; and we might dread to be laid to rest out there in the cold cemetery, all alone, but we do not fear to sleep in Jesus. Such a state as that is a thing to be desired, not to be dreaded.

Now let us come to our second point, the thoughts aroused by this figure: “Some are fallen asleep.”

First, thinking about the many who have fallen asleep, let me ask,-How did you treat them? If your conscience pricks you concerning that matter, I want you to act towards the living saints in such a way as you would like to have done supposing you never see them again. When there has been an angry meeting or parting,-when there have been hard words spoken,-when there have been unkind thoughts,-when you could not enjoy true fellowship with some Christian friend, suppose that, the next morning, somebody came round to your house, and said, “Brother So-and-so is dead,” you would feel deeply pained to think that he had fallen asleep after you had so treated him. People who have killed their minister by their unkindness,-and there have been, alas! many who have done so;-those who have killed other persons,-and there have been many of that sort, who have vexed and worried other people into their graves;-may well think, with great sorrow, “Some are fallen asleep, but we did not treat them with the love and kindness we ought to have shown to them.” Think over that matter, dear friends, and see to it that no such regrets shall be possible to you.

“Some are fallen asleep.” Then, who is to fill their place? Many have already gone from us this year, and others keep on going. Sunday-school teachers go: who will be “baptized for the dead,” by taking their places in the ranks, and filling the gap? Hear this, ye church-members who are doing nothing for Christ! “Some are fallen asleep.” Let that little sentence be a clarion call to you to wake up, and go, and occupy the vacant positions, that the work of Christ may know no lack in any part of his vineyard. Rouse ye! Rouse ye! you who are asleep in another sense, and now that so many are being taken away from us, dig up the talent that has been wrapped in a napkin, and buried in the earth, and put it out to blessed usury by employing it in the Master’s service.

“Some have fallen asleep.” Then you and I also will fall asleep before long. It cannot be a long while for some of you who are getting grey or white; it may be a very short time for some of us who have scarcely reached the middle of life; and even you young folk may soon fall asleep, too, for I have seen a child asleep in the morning as well as at night, and so have you. Oh! let us not live in this world as if we thought of staying here for ever; but let us try to be like a pious Scotch minister, who was very ill, and, being asked by a friend whether he thought himself dying, answered, “Really, friend, I care not whether I am or not; for, if I die, I shall be with God; and if I live, he will be with me.” There is not much to choose between those two blessed states; but let us recollect, by the memory of every one who has fallen asleep, that the time of our own departure is coming by-and-by, and it may be very soon!

But, as for those who have fallen asleep in Jesus, we need not fret or trouble ourselves about them. To cut their faces, in token of their mourning for the dead, was natural to the heathen; well might they torture themselves in their hopeless grief, for they believed the separation to be eternal. But as for us, when children go upstairs to bed, do their elder brothers and sisters, who sit up later, gather together, and cry because the other children have fallen asleep? Ah, no! they feel that they have not lost them, and they expect to meet again in the morning; and so do we! Therefore, let us not weep and lament to excess concerning the dear ones who are fallen asleep in Christ, for all is well with them. They are at rest: shall we weep about that? They are enjoying their eternal triumph: shall we weep about that? They are as full of bliss as they can possibly be: shall we weep about that? If any of your sons and daughters were taken away from you to be made into kings and queens in a foreign land, you might shed a tear or two at parting, but you would say, “It is for their good; let them go.” And do you grudge your well-beloved their crown of glory, and all the bliss which God has bestowed upon them? If the departed could speak to us, they would say, “Bless God for us. Do not sit down and mourn because we have entered into his glory; but rather rejoice because we are with him where he is.” Wherefore, let us comfort one another with these words.

Lastly, brethren, let us think, for just a minute or two, of the hopes confirmed by this figure: “Some are fallen asleep.”

First, then, they are still ours. If they were really dead, we might say that we had lost them; but as they have only fallen asleep, they are still ours. Wordsworth proclaimed a great truth in that simple little poem of his, “We are seven.” There were some of the family buried in the churchyard, but the girl still declared that they were seven, and so they were. Did you ever notice, concerning Job’s children, that when God gave him twice as much substance as he had before, he gave him only the same number of children as he formerly had? The Lord gave him twice as much gold, and twice as much of all sorts of property, but he only gave him the exact number of children that he had before. Why did he not give the patriarch double the number of children as well as twice the number of cattle? Why, because God reckoned the first ones as being his still. They were dead to Job’s eye, but they were visible to Job’s faith. God numbered them still as part of Job’s family; and if you carefully count up how many children Job had, you will find that he had twice as many in the end as he had in the beginning. In the same way, consider your friends who are asleep in Christ as still yours,-not lost, any one of them, and say of them “Some are fallen asleep.” “Our membership has been diminished,” says somebody. Yes, it has been, according to the church-book, and the figures as we reckon them here; but it has not really been diminished. I have, by faith, seen our brethren and sisters flying, like doves to their windows, and ascending to heaven from this place. Every week, some of them are going to the land beyond the skies. My soul has often rejoiced as I have thought of the spiritual children whom God has given me. I might almost claim that great promise which was made to Abraham, “Look now toward heaven, and tell the stars, if thou be able to number them: and he said unto him, So shall thy seed be;” for, if they have not reached the number of the stars yet, they are no more to be reckoned than are the stars. As I remember how many of them have already reached the better land, I do not think of them as lost, for they only fell asleep here, to wake in the presence of Jesus. Their sleeping bodies also shall wake again when the resurrection trumpet sounds. No matter what has become of the particular particles of dust of which those bodies were composed, the essence of each individual shall be preserved by omnipotent power, and out of it shall spring an undying body, remodelled, and fashioned like unto Christ’s glorious body, and the soul shall enter it, and that soul shall be here again at the coming of Christ, for when he shall come in his glory, them also who sleep in Jesus will he bring with him, “wherefore,” again I say unto you, “comfort one another with these words.”

This is our last thought, we shall meet again those who have fallen asleep. We said, “Adieu” to them, and so committed them to God’s keeping. We said, “Good-bye,” that is, “God be with you;” and God has been with them. We said, “Farewell,” and they have fared well; and we shall see how well they have fared to be with Christ, for we shall see them again. I believe that we shall know them, and have communion with them, and shall admire Christ’s grace in them, and that it shall be part of our heaven to come not only “to Jesus the Mediator of the new covenant,” but also “to the general assembly and church of the firstborn, who are written in heaven.”

Now I have finished my discourse, but how far is there any comfort to some of you in all that I have said? Some of you work very hard: have you any hope of rest in heaven? If not, I do pity you, from the very depths of my heart. Some of you fare very hard: have you any hope of better fare with Christ for ever? If not, I do indeed pity you, more than I can tell. To go, from poverty and misery here, to a place where there shall be no hope for you for ever, will be dreadful indeed. If there were no hell, I could not endure the thought of being shut out of heaven; for, to be with Christ, to be with the Father, to be with the Holy Spirit, to miss the company of gracious and just men for ever, would be a hell that might well make men gnash their teeth in torment. Oh, may God save us all through faith which is in Christ Jesus! May we be saved to-night; and then it will not matter how soon anyone may say of us also, “They have fallen asleep,” for all will be well with us for ever. God bless you, dear friends, for Christ’s sake! Amen.

Expositions by C. H. Spurgeon

REVELATION 7:9-17; and 1 CORINTHIANS 15:1-28, and 50-58

We will read two passages from the New Testament to-night. The first will show us where the glorified saints are, and the second will tell us what is to become of their bodies.

Revelation 7. Verses 9-13. After this I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands; and cried with a loud voice, saying, Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb. And all the angels stood round about the throne, and about the elders and the four beasts, and fell before the throne on their faces, and worshipped God, saying, Amen: Blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and honour, and power, and might, be unto our God for ever and ever. Amen. And one of the elders answered, saying unto me,-

In reply, as it were, to John’s question put by the very look of his countenance. Sometimes, the Lord Jesus Christ gave an answer to men who had never spoken to him; and the angelic elder here followed his example, and also in another respect imitated his Lord, by replying to the inquisitive glance of John by asking him a question.

13-17. What are these which are arrayed in white robes? and whence came they? And I said unto him, Sir, thou knowest. And he said to me, These are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple: and he that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters: and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.

This is to be the future state of all those who are redeemed by the precious blood of Jesus, and to whom the saving grace of God has come; so that, concerning all who have thus fallen asleep, we sorrow not as those without hope, for we know that all is well with them for ever.

Now let us read a little of what the apostle Paul was inspired to write with regard to the resurrection of the body.

1 Corinthians 15. Verses 1, 2. Moreover, brethren, I declare unto you the gospel which I preached unto you, which also ye have received, and wherein ye stand; by which also ye are saved, if ye keep in memory what I preached unto you, unless ye have believed in vain.

What, then, was this gospel which Paul had preached, and which the Christians in Corinth had received,-the gospel which Paul declared would save them if they truly believed it? Was it a gospel made up merely of doctrines? No; it was a gospel formed of facts.

3. For I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures;

That is the first fundamental fact in the gospel system. Blessed is the man who believes it, and rests his soul upon it.

4. And that he was buried, and that he rose again the third day according to the scriptures:

That grand fact of the resurrection of Christ from the dead is rightly put next to his substitutionary sacrifice, for it is the very cornerstone of our holy faith. It is one of the essential doctrines which must be received by us, for we cannot truly believe the gospel unless we accept the great truth of Christ’s resurrection.

5-8. And that he was seen of Cephas,-that is, Peter,-then of the twelve: after that, he was seen of above five hundred brethren at once; of whom the greater part remain unto this present, but some are fallen asleep. After that, he was seen of James; then of all the apostles. And last of all he was seen of me also, as of one born out of due time.

I suppose, brethren, that we may have persons arise, who will doubt whether there was ever such a man as Julius Cæsar, or Napoleon Bonaparte; and when they do,-when all reliable history is flung to the winds,-then, but not till then, may they begin to question whether Jesus Christ rose from the dead, for this historical fact is attested by more witnesses than almost any other fact that stands on record in history, whether sacred or profane. The risen Christ was seen by many persons who knew him intimately before he died, by those who saw him put to death, and who saw him when he was dead. He was seen, on various occasions, privately, by one, by two, by twelve, of those who had been his companions for years; at other times, he was seen, in public, by large numbers who could not all have been deceived. These men were so certain that this was indeed the same Christ who had lived, and died, that, although it was at first difficult to make them believe that he had risen from the dead, it was impossible to make them doubt it afterwards, and the major part of them died to bear witness to the fact, they were martyred because they confessed that Jesus had indeed risen from the dead. There is no fact in history, from the days of Adam until now, that is better attested than this great central truth of the resurrection of Christ; so we accept it, and receive it gladly. Paul finishes up his list of witnesses by putting himself down as one of them, although his conversion was, to himself, such a marvellous display of divine grace that he was like “one born out of due time.”

9-14. For I am the least of the apostles, that am not meet to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. But by the grace of God I am what I am: and his grace which was bestowed upon me was not in vain; but I laboured more abundantly than they all: yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me. Therefore whether it were I or they, so we preach, and so ye believed. Now if Christ be preached that he rose from the dead, how say some among you that there is no resurrection of the dead? But if there be no resurrection of the dead, then is Christ not risen: and if Christ be not risen, then is our preaching vain, and your faith is also vain.

It is all emptiness together. Our preaching evaporates-there is nothing left in it-unless Christ did really rise from the dead; and your faith has nothing in it either, you are believing in that which is only vanity and nothingness unless his resurrection was a fact.

15-17. Yea, and we are found false witnesses of God; because we have testified of God that he raised up Christ: whom he raised not up, if so be that the dead rise not. For if the dead rise not, then is not Christ raised: and if Christ be not raised, your faith is vain; ye are yet in your sins.

So that you cannot be a Christian if you deny the resurrection of Christ. You must give up Christianity altogether, and confess that your faith in it was a delusion, unless you believe that Jesus Christ rose from the dead, and that therefore there is a resurrection from the dead for the sons of men. Let it ever be most clearly understood that what Christ is, that his people are. There is an unbroken union between the Head and the members, so that, if he lives, they live; and if he lives not, then they live not; and if they live not, then he lives not. Jesus and those for whom he died are so intimately joined together that they are really and truly one, and nothing can ever separate them.

18, 19. Then they also which are fallen asleep in Christ are perished. If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable.

That is to say, if our hope for the future be all a lie, we have been dreadfully deceived; and, moreover, if we could lose a hope so brilliant as that has been to us, there would fall upon us a sense of loss so great that no one in the world could be so wretched as we should be. Besides, the apostles being always in jeopardy of their lives, if they were suffering poverty, and persecution, and the fear of death by martyrdom, all for a lie, they were indeed of all men the most deluded, and the most miserable. But the Corinthians would not admit that, neither will we.

20. But now is Christ risen from the dead, and become the firstfruits-

He must always come first, that in all things he may have the preeminence.

20-28. Of them that slept. For since by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive. But every man in his own order: Christ the firstfruits; afterward they that are Christ’s at his coming. Then cometh the end, when he shall have delivered up the kingdom to God, even the Father; when he shall have put down all rule and all authority and power. For he must reign, till he hath put all enemies under his feet. The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death. For he hath put all things under his feet. But when he saith all things are put under him, it is manifest that he is excepted, which did put all things under him. And when all things shall be subdued unto him, then shall the Son also himself be subject unto him that put all things under him, that God may be all in all.

The mediatorial person of Christ, as God-man, shall bow before the eternal majesty of the Godhead: “that God may be all in all.”

Now we will finish our reading with just a few verses at the close of the chapter.

50, 51. Now this I say, brethren, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God; neither doth corruption inherit incorruption. Behold, I shew you a mystery; We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed,

We shall not all die, some will be alive when Christ comes to this earth again; “but we shall all be changed,” if not by the process of death and resurrection, yet by some other means.

52. In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall he raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed.

Somehow or other, such a change as this must take place before we can enter heaven, for “flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God.”

53-58. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord.

That should be the practical outcome of receiving the great truths of which we have been reading. God grant that it may be! Amen.

Hymns from “Our Own Hymn Book”-852, 844, 865.