Chapter 6. The first Royal Privilege of a Christian, is Death.
of the finest spinning, is kept until we come at heaven. It is true, God does chequer his work in this life—white and black. He gives us something to sweeten our pilgrimage here—some tastes of his love— these are the pledge and first-fruits. But what is this to that which is to come? "Now we are the sons of God," 1 John 3:2, "But it does not yet appear what we shall be." Expect that God should keep his best wine until last; "things to come are yours!"
What are those things which are to come? There are twelve things yet to come, the which I call Twelve Royal Privileges, with which the believer shall be invested. The first is set down in the text, which I will begin with.
Chapter 6.
The First Royal Privilege of a Christian, is Death.
"Death is yours!" Death in scripture is called an enemy, 1 Cor.
15:26. Yet here it is put in a Christian's inventory of royal privileges, "death is yours." Death is an enemy to the mortal part—but a friend to the spiritual. Death is one of our best friends, next to Christ. When
Moses saw his rod turned into a serpent, it did at the first affright him, and he fled from it; but when God bade him take hold of it, he found by the miraculous effects which it wrought, it did him and the people of Israel much good. Just so, death at the first sight is like the rod turned into a serpent—it affrights. But when by faith we take hold of it, then we find much benefit and comfort in it. As Moses' rod divided the waters, and made a passage for Israel into Canaan; so death divides the waters of tribulation, and makes a passage for us into the "land of promise." Death is called the king of terrors—but it can do a child of God no hurt; this snake may hiss and wind about the body—but the sting is pulled out. The bee by stinging, loses its sting. While death did sting Christ upon the cross, it has quite lost its sting to a believer; it can hurt the soul no more than David did king
Saul, when he cut off the lap of his garment. Death to a believer is but
like the arresting of a man for debt—after the debt is paid! Death, as God's sergeants at arms, may arrest us, and carry us before God's justice; but Christ will show our discharge—the debt-book is crossed in his blood!
Question. How is death ours?
Answer. Two ways 1. Death is the outlet to sin.
2. Death is the inlet to happiness.
1. Death to a believer, is an outlet to SIN. We are in this life under a sinful necessity; even the best saint: "There is not a just man upon earth, that does good and sins not." Evil thoughts are continually arising out of our hearts, as sparks out of a furnace. Sin keeps house with us whether we will or not; the best saint alive is troubled with these evil inhabitants; though he forsakes his sins—yet his sins will not forsake him.
Sin does indisposes to good. "How to perform that which is good I find not," Romans 7:18. When we would pray, the heart is a violin out of tune; when we would weep, we are as clouds without rain.
Sin tempts to evil. "The flesh lusts against the spirit." There needs be no external wind of temptation, we have tide strong enough in our hearts, to carry us to hell. Consider sin under this threefold notion.
1. Sin is a "body of death," and that not impertinently.
First, it is a body for its weight. The body is a heavy and weighty substance: so is sin a body, it weighs us down. When we would pray, the weights of sin are tied to our feet that we cannot ascend. Anselm, seeing a little boy playing with a bird, he let her fly up, and presently pulls the bird down again by a string: so, says he, it is with me as with this bird; when I would fly up to heaven upon the wings of
meditation, I find a string tied to my leg; I am overpowered with corruption; but death pulls off these weights of sin, and lets the soul free.
Secondly, sin is a body of death, for its annoyance. It was a cruel torment that one used, he tied a dead man to a living man, that the dead man might annoy and infest the living. Thus it is with a child of God, he has two men within him—flesh and spirit—grace and corruption. There is the dead man tied to the living man. A proud sinful heart is worse to a child of God, than the smell of a dead corpse. Indeed to a natural man sin is not offensive; for, being "dead in sin," he is not sensible: but where there is a vital principle of spiritual life, there is no greater annoyance than the body of death: insomuch that the pious soul often cries out, as David, "Woe is me, that I dwell in Meshech, and sojourn in the tents of Kedar." So says he, "Woe is me, that I am constrained to abide with sin! How long shall I be troubled with evil inhabitants! How long shall I offend that God whom I love! When shall I leave these tents of Kedar!"
2. Sin is a tyrant, it carries in it the nature of a law; the apostle calls it the "law in his members." Romans 7:14. There is the law of pride, the law of unbelief; it has a kind of jurisdiction, as Caesar over the senate. "What I hate, that I do"; verse 15. The apostle was for the present like a man carried down the stream, and was not able to bear up against it. Whence are our carnal fears? whence our sinful passions? whence is it that a child of God does that which he does not want to do? yes, sometimes against knowledge? The reason is, he is captivated under sin. But be of good cheer, where grace makes a combat—death shall make a conquest!
3. Sin is a leprous spot. It makes everything we touch unclean.
Thus in every man naturally, there is a fretting leprosy of sin, pride, unbelief, impenitency, etc. These are leprous spots. In conversion,
God makes a change in the heart of a sinner—but still the leprosy of sin spreads; then at last death comes and pulls down the stones and timber of the house, and the soul is quite freed from the leprosy. Sin
is a defiling thing, it makes us red with guilt—and black with filth Sin is compared to a "menstruous cloth"; we need carry it no higher.
Hierom says, there was nothing in the law more unclean than the menstruous cloth: this is sin. Sin draws the Devil's picture in a man; malice is the Devil's eye; oppression is his hand; hypocrisy is his cloven foot!
But behold, death will give us our discharge; death is the last and best physician, which cures all diseases and sins—the aching head and the unbelieving heart. Sin was the midwife which brought death into the world, and death shall be the grave to bury sin! O the privilege of a believer! he is not taken away in his sins—but he is taken away from his sins. The Persians had a certain day in the year, wherein they used to kill all serpents and venomous creatures: such a day as that will the day of death be to a man in Christ. This day the old serpent dies in a believer, which has so often stung him with his temptations! This day the sins of the godly, these venomous creatures, shall all be destroyed. They shall never more be proud; they shall never more grieve the Spirit of God; the death of the body shall quite destroy the body of death.
To a believer, death is the inlet to eternal happiness. Samson found a honeycomb in the lion's carcass; so may a child of God suck much sweetness from death. Death is the gate of life! Death pulls off our rags, and gives us glorious raiment.
All the hurt death does to us—is to put us into a blissful condition.
Death is called in scripture a sleep, 1 Thess. 4:14. "Those who sleep in Jesus"; as after sleep the spirits are exhilarated and refreshed, so after death, "the times of refreshing come from the presence of the Lord." Death is yours. Death is a believer's ferryman, to ferry him over to the land of rest! Death opens the portal into heaven! The day of a Christian's death—is the birthday of his heavenly life! Death is his ascension-day to glory! Death is his marriage-day with Jesus
Christ! After his funeral, he begins his marriage!
Well then might Solomon say, "The day of one's death is better than the day of one's birth." Death is the spiritual man's advancement, why then should he fear it? Death, I confess, has a grim visage to an impenitent sinner; so it is ghastly to look upon; it is a messenger to carry him to hell. But to such as are in Christ, "death is yours!" Death is like the "pillar of cloud," it has a dark side to a sinner: but it has a light side to a believer. Death's pale face looks ruddy, when the "blood of sprinkling" is upon it; in short, faith gives us a property in heaven, death gives us a possession: fear not your privilege, the thoughts of death should be delightful. Jacob, when he saw the wagons, his spirits revived. Death is the chariot which carries us to our Father's house! What were the martyrs' flames but a fiery chariot to carry them up to heaven! This world we live in, is but a desert; shall we not be willing to leave it for paradise! We say, it is good to be here; we try to have an earthly paradise. But grace must curb nature.
Think of the privileges of death. Though naturally we desire to live here on earth, as we are made up of flesh—yet grace should be as the master wheel, which sways our will, making us long for death. "I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far!" 2 Cor.
5:2, "We groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling."
We would put off the earthly clothes of our body, and put on the bright robe of immortality. "We groan," it is a metaphor taken from a mother, who being pregnant, groans and cries out for delivery.
Augustine longed to die, that he might see that head which was once crowned with thorns. We pray, "May Your kingdom come"; and when God is leading us into his kingdom, shall we be afraid to go!
The times we live in should, methinks, make us long for death. We live in dying times, we may hear, as it were, God's death bell ringing over these nations. They are well—who are out of the storm—and have gotten already to the haven!
Question. But who shall have this privilege?
Answer. Death is certain; but there are only two sorts of people to whom we may say "Death is yours!" It is your preferment.
1. Such as die daily. We are not born angels; die we must, therefore we had need carry always a death's head with us. The basilisk, if it sees a man first—it kills him; but if he sees it first—it does him no hurt. The basilisk death, if it sees us first, before we see it—it is dangerous; but if we see it first by meditating upon it, it does us no hurt. Study death, often walk among the tombs. It is the thoughts of death beforehand, that must do us good. In a dark night, one torch carried before a man is worth many torches carried after him: one serious thought of death beforehand, one tear shed for sin before death—is worth a thousand shed after, when it is too late. It is good to make death our familiar friend, and in this sense to be in deaths often: that if God should presently send us a letter of summons this night, we might have nothing to do but to die.
Alas, how do many put off the thoughts of death! It is almost death to them—to think of death. There are some who are in the very threshold of the grave, who have one foot in the grave, and the other foot in hell; yet "put far from them the evil day." I have read of one
Lysicrates, who in his old age dyed his gray hairs black, that he might seem young again. When we should be building our tombs, we are building our houses! Die daily, lest you die eternally! The holy patriarchs in purchasing for themselves a burying place, showed us what thoughts they still had of death. Joseph of Arimathea erected his sepulcher in his garden: we have many that set up the trophies of their victories; others that set up their trophies, that they may blaze their honor. But how few that set up their sepulchers; who erect in their hearts the serious thoughts of death! O remember when you are in your gardens, in places most delicious and fragrant, to keep a place for your tombstone; die daily! There is no better way to bring sin into a consumption, than by often looking on the pale horse, and the one that sits thereon. By thinking on death, we begin to repent of an evil life; and so we disarm death before it comes, and cut the lock where its strength lies.
2. Such as are in heaven before they die. Death is yours! If we must be high-minded, let it be in setting our mind upon heavenly things. Heaven must come down into us before we go up there. A child of God breathes his faith in heaven; his thoughts are there:
"When I awake I am still with you," Psalm 139:17. David awaked in heaven; his conversation is there; Philip. 3:20, "For our conversation is in heaven." The believer often ascends mount Tabor, and takes a prospect of glory. O that we had this celestial frame of heart! When
Zaccheus was in the crowd, he was too low to see Christ; therefore he climbed up into the Sycamore tree. When we are in a crowd of worldly business, we cannot see Christ. Climb up into the tree by divine contemplation! If you would get Christ into your heart, let heaven be in your eye! "Set your affections upon things above," Col.
3:2. There needs be no exhortation for us to set our hearts on things below. How is the curse of the serpent upon most men! "Upon your belly shall you go, and dust shall you eat all the days of your life."
Those who feed only upon dust, golden dust, will be unwilling to return to dust. To them, death will be terrible!
The tribes of Reuben and Gad desired that they might stay on this side Jordan—and have their portion there; it being a place convenient for their cattle. It seems they minded their cattle more than their passage into the holy land! Just so, many professors, if they may have but a little grazing here in the world, in their shops, and in their farms, they are content to live on this side the river, and mind not their passage into the land of promise! But you who are in heaven before you die—death is yours!
An earthly saint is a contradiction. The Greek word for saint signifies a man refined and separated from the earth. If an astronomer, instead of observing the planets, and the motions of the heavens, should take a reed in his hand, and fall a measuring of the earth, would not this be counted a contradiction! And is not it as great a contradiction in religion, when men pretend to have Christ and heaven in their eye—yet mind earthly things! Phil. 3:19. Our souls, methinks should be like to a ship, which is made little and narrow