Life's Shortness and Vanity 2
Back to SERMONS Samuel Davies
Of how small importance is it to such, whether they spend a few years of their existence in all the delights of the marital state and the social life—or are forlorn, bereaved, destitute, widowed, childless, fatherless, friendless! The grave and eternity will level all these little inequalities! The dust of Job has no more sense of his past calamities, than that of Solomon who felt so few; and their immortal parts are equally happy in heaven—if they were equally holy upon earth.
And of how small consequence is it to Judas now, after he has been more than seventeen hundred years in 'his own place'—whether he died single or married, a parent or childless? These relations make no distinction in heaven or hell—unless that, asrelations increase, the duties belonging to them are multiplied, and the responsibilities become the heavier—the faithful discharge of which meets with a more glorious reward in heaven; and the neglect of which suffers a severer punishment in hell.
Farther, the apostle, in saying that those who have wives should be as though they had none, intends that we should not excessively set our hearts upon any of our dearest relatives so as to tempt us to neglect the superior concerns of the world to come—or draw off our affections from God. We should always remember who it was that said, "He who loves father, or mother, or wife, or children, more than Me—is not worthy of Me!" (Matthew 10:37).
"He who is married," says Paul, in the context, "cares for the things of the world, how he may please his wife" (I Corinthians 7:33). But we should beware lest this care should run to excess, and render us careless of the interests of our souls, and the concerns of immortality. To moderate excessive care and anxiety about the things of this world—is the design the apostle has immediately in view in my text; for having taught "those that have wives to be as though they had none," etc.., he immediately adds, "I want you to be free from the concerns of this life"; and this is the reason why I would have you form such an estimate of all the conditions of life, and count them as on a level. Those who have the agreeable weights of these relations, ought no more to abandon themselves to the over-eager pursuit of this world, or place their happiness in it; they ought no more to neglect the concerns of religion and eternity, than if they did not bear these relations.
The busy head of a numerous family should be as much concerned to secure his everlasting salvation, as a single man. Whatever becomes of him and his belongings in this vanishing world—he must by no means neglect to provide for his existence in the eternal world; and nothing in this world can at all excuse that neglect.
Oh, that these thoughts may deeply affect the hearts of such of us as are agreeably joined in such relations! And may they inspire us with a proper insensibility and indifference towards them—when compared with the affairs of religion and eternity! May this consideration moderate the sorrows of the mourners, on this melancholy occasion; and teach them to esteem the gain or loss of a blissful eternity—as that which should swallow up every other concern!
The next branch of the inference refers to the sorrows of life. "What I mean, brothers, is that the time is short. From now on . . .those who mourn, as if they did not." Whatever afflictions may befall us here on earth, they will not last long—but will soon be swallowed up in the greater joys—or sorrows of the eternal world! These tears will not always flow; these sighs will not always heave our breasts. We can sigh no longer—than the vital breath fills our lungs! We can weep no longer—than until death stops all the fountains of our tears—and that will be in a very little time!
And when we enter into the eternal world, if we have been the dutiful children of God here on earth—His own gentle hand shall wipe away every tear from our faces, and He will comfort His mourning people. Then all the sorrows of life will cease forever, and no more painful remembrance of them will remain—than of the pains and sickness of our unconscious infancy!
But if all the discipline of our heavenly Father fails to reduce us to our duty, if we still continue rebellious and incorrigible under His rod, and consequently the miseries of this life—convey us to eternal miseries—then the smaller miseries will be swallowed up and lost in the greater—as a drop is swallowed up and lost in the ocean!
Some desperate sinners have hardened themselves in sin with this cold comfort, "That since they must be miserable hereafter, they will at least take their fill of pleasure here—and take a merry journey to hell." But alas! What a sorry mitigation will this be! How entirely will all this life of pleasure—be forgotten at the first pang of infernal anguish! Oh! What poor relief to a soul lost forever—to reflect that this eternity of pain followed upon, and was procured by—a few months or years of sordid guilty pleasure! Was that a relief or an aggravation which Abraham mentions to the rich glutton, when he puts him in mind, "Remember that in your lifetime you received your good things"? (Luke 16:25). You had then—all the share of good which you ever shall enjoy; you had your portion in that world where you chose to have it—and therefore are left to the consequences of your own choice, and look for no other portion. Oh! Who can bear to be thus reminded and upbraided—in the midst of remediless misery!
Upon the whole, whatever afflictions or bereavements we suffer in this world—let us moderate our sorrows and keep them within proper bounds. Let them not work up and ferment into murmurings and complainings against God—who gives and takes away, as He desires. Let them not sink us into a sullen dislike of the mercies still left in our possession. How unreasonable and ungrateful, that God's retaking one of His mercies—should tempt us to despise all the rest! Take a view of the rich inventory of blessings still remaining, and you will find them much more numerous and important than those you have lost!
Do not mistake me, as if I recommended or expected an utter insensibility under the calamities of life. I allow nature its moderate tears—but let them not rise to floods of inconsolable sorrows! I allow you to feel your afflictions like men and Christians—but then you must bear them like men and Christians too. May God grant that we may all exemplify this attitude when we are put to the trial.
The third branch of the inference refers to the joys and pleasures of life. "The time is short. From now on . . . let those who rejoice—be as though they did not rejoice." That is, the joys of this life, from whatever earthly cause they spring—are so shortand transitory, that they are as of no account to a being who is to exist forever; to exist forever in joys or pains of an infinitely higher and more important kind! To such a being it is an indifference whether he laughs or weeps, whether he is joyful or sad—for only a few fleeting moments. These vanishing, uncertain joys should not engross our hearts as our chief happiness; nor cause us to neglect and forfeit the divine and everlasting joys above the skies.
The pleasure we receive from any created enjoyment, should not ensnare us to make it our idol. We must not forget—that we must part with it; or to fret, and murmur, and repine, when the parting hour comes! When we are rejoicing in the abundance of earthly blessings—we should be as careful and laborious in securing the favour of God and everlasting happiness—as if we rejoiced not. If our eternal All is secure—it is enough! Heaven will not at all be heightened or diminished by the reflection that we lived a joyful or a sad life in our earthly pilgrimage.
But if we spend our immortality in eternal misery—what sorry comfort will it be that we laughed, and played, and frolicked away our few years upon earth! Years that were given us for a serious purpose—as a space for repentance and preparation for eternity! Therefore, "let those who rejoice—be as though they did not rejoice"; that is, be nobly indifferent to all the little amusements and pleasures of so short an earthly life.
And let "those who buy something—as if it were not theirs to keep." This is the fourth particular in the inference from the shortness of time, and it refers to the trade and business of life. It refers not only to the busy merchant, whose life is a vicissitude of buying and selling—but also to the farmer, the tradesman, and indeed to every person among us; for we are all carrying on a commerce, more or less, for the purposes of this life. You all buy, and sell, and exchange, in some form or other; and the things of this world are perpetually passing from hand to hand. Sometimes you have good bargains, and make large acquisitions. But do not set your hearts upon them; but in the midst of all your possessions, live as if they were not yours to keep.
Alas! Of what small account are all the things you call your own upon earth—to you who are to stay here so short a time; to you who must so soon bid an eternal farewell to them all, and go as naked out of the world as you came into it; to you who must spend an everlasting duration far beyond the reach of all these enjoyments! It is not worth your while to even call them your own—since you must so soon resign them to other hands.
The melancholy occasion of this day may convince you, that success in trade, and plentiful estate, procured and kept by honest industry and good management, is neither a security against death, nor a comfort in it! Alas! What service can these houses and lands, and numerous servants—perform to the cold clay that moulders in yonder grave, or to the immortal spirit that is fled, we know not where? Therefore buy everything—sensible that you can buy nothing upon a sure and lasting title. You can buy nothing today—that you can certainly call 'yours' tomorrow. Buy—but do not sell your hearts—for the earthly trifles you buy! Do not let them tempt you to act as if this world were your final home, or to neglect to lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven; treasures which you can call your own when this world is laid in ashes, and which you can enjoy and live upon, in the eternal heavenly state—when these bodies have nothing but a coffin, a shroud, and a few feet of earth!
Finally, let "those who use the things of the world—as if not engrossed in them." This is the fifth branch of the inference from the shortness of time; and it seems to have a particular reference to such as have had such success in their pursuit of the world, that they have now retired from business, and appear to themselves to have nothing to do but enjoy the world, for which they so long toiled.
Or it may refer to those who are heirs of plentiful estates, and therefore are not concerned to acquire the world—but to use andenjoy it.
To such I say, "Use the things of the world—as if not engrossed in them!" That is, use it, enjoy it, take moderate pleasure in it—but do not abuse it by prostituting it to sinful purposes, making provision for the flesh to fulfil the lusts thereof, indulgingyourselves in debauchery and extravagance, placing your confidence in it!
Do not be like the rich fool, who said to himself, "You have plenty of good things laid up for many years. Take life easy! Eat, drink and be merry!" Oh! presumptuous fool! "This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?" (Luke 12:19-20).
Do not use this world to excess (so the word may be translated), by placing your hearts excessively upon it as your favorite portion and principal happiness, and by allowing it to draw off your thoughts and affections from the superior blessedness of the world to come.
Use the world—but let it not tempt you to excess in eating, drinking, dressing, housing, or in any article of the parade of riches. True religion by no means commands a sordid, niggardly, churlish manner of living; it allows you to enjoy the blessings of life—but then it forbids all excess, and requires you to keep within the bounds of moderation in your enjoyments. Thus, "Use the things of the world—as if not engrossed in them!"
The apostle's inference is not only drawn from strong premises—but also enforced with a very weighty reason: "For this world in its present form is passing away." The whole scheme and system of worldly affairs—all this marrying and rejoicing, and weeping, and buying, and enjoying—is passing away! It is passing away this very moment! It not only WILL pass away—but even now, it IS passing away!
The 'stream of time', with all the trifles that float on it, and all the eager pursuers of these bubbles—is in motion, in swift, incessant motion to empty itself and all that sail upon it—into the shoreless ocean of eternity, where all will be absorbed and lost forever!
And shall we excessively doat upon things that are perpetually flying from us, and in a little time will be no more our property than the riches of the world before the flood? O, how long will you follow after vanity! "Why do you spend your money on what is not food, and your labour on what does not satisfy?" (Isaiah 55:2).
"For this world in its present form is passing away!" Some say that this sentence contains a fine striking allusion to the stage of a theater, and that it might be rendered, "the 'scene' of this world is passing away."
"You know," says a fine writer upon this text, "that upon the stage the actors assume imaginary characters, and appear in costumes. One acts the courage and triumph of the hero; another appears with a crown and a scepter, and struts about with all the solemnity and majesty of a prince; a third puts on the fawning smile of a courtier, or the haughtiness of a successful favorite; and the fourth is represented in the dress of a scholar or a politician. For an hour or two they act their several parts on the stage, and amuse the spectators; but the scenes are constantly shifting; and when the play is concluded, the pretended characters are laid aside, and the imaginary kings and emperors are immediately divested of their pretended authority and ensigns of royalty, and appear in their true characters.
"Just so, this world is a great stage that presents as variable scenes and actors: princes, politicians, and warriors, the rich, the learned, and the wise; and, on the other hand, the poor, weak, and despised part of mankind possess their several places on the theatre. Some lurk absolutely in a corner, seldom come from behind the scenes, or creep along unnoticed. Others make a splendid show and a loud noise, are adorned with the honours of a crown, or possessed of large estates and great powers; they fill the world with the fame of their names and actions; conquer in the battle-field; or are nobly employed in the ruling of a nation.
"Well, in a little time the scene is shifted, and all these vain phantoms disappear! The 'king of terrors' clears the stage of the busy actors, strips them of all their fictitious ornaments, and ends the vain farce of life! And now, all being brought down to the same level by DEATH, they go down to the grave in their original nakedness, their carcasses are jumbled together—and they pass away as a tale that is told!
"In the Greek or Roman theatres, to which the apostle alludes, the actors frequently, if not always, came upon the stage in adisguise, with a mask—a false face, which was adapted to the different persons or characters they designed to assume; so that no actor was seen with his real face—but all put on borrowed visages. And in allusion to this, the text might be rendered, 'Themasquerade of the world passes away,' pointing out the fraud and disguises which mankind put on, and the flattering forms in which they generally appear—which will all pass away, when DEATH shall pull off their mask; and they go down to the eternal world naked and exposed, and appear at the supreme tribunal in their true characters, and can no more be varnished over with fraudulent colouring!" [Dunlop's Sermons, Vol. I, pages 212-215].
Others apprehend that the apostle here alludes to some grand procession or parade, in which pageants or emblematic figurespass along the crowded streets. The staring crowd await their appearance with eager eyes, and place themselves in the most convenient posture of observation: they gape at the passing show, they follow it with a wondering gaze—and now it is past, and now it begins to look dim to the sight, and now it disappears. Just such is this transitory world! Thus it begins to attract the eager gaze of mankind; thus it marches by in swift procession from our eyes to meet the eyes of others—and thus it soon vanishes and disappears!
And shall we always be stupidly staring upon this empty parade—and forget that world of substantial realities to which we are hastening? No! Let us live and act as aspirants of that eternal world, and as having nothing to do with this passing world—but only as a school, a state of discipline, to educate and prepare us for eternity!
Oh! That I could successfully impress this exhortation upon all your hearts! Oh! That I could prevail upon you all this day to break off your over-fond attachment to this fleeting earth—and to make preparation for immortality! Could I bring this point home to you—it would be a greater advantage than all the dead could receive from any funeral eulogies from me. I speak for the advantage of the living upon such occasions, and not to celebrate the virtues of those who have already passed earth's trial—and received their sentence from the supreme Judge. And I am well satisfied the mourning relatives of our deceased friend, who best knew and esteemed his worth, would rather be offended than pleased—if I should prostitute the present hour to so base a purpose.
Indeed, many a character less worthy of praise, often makes a shining figure in funeral sermons. Many who have not been such tender husbands, such affectionate fathers, such kind masters, such sincere, upright friends, so honest and punctual in trade, such zealous lovers of true religion and godly men—have had their putrefying remains perfumed with public praise from a place so solemn as the pulpit! But you can witness for me, it is not my usual manner to run to this extreme. My business is with you—who are as yet alive to hear me. To you I call, as with the voice of your deceased friend and neighbour: "Prepare! Prepare for eternity!"
Oh! If the souls that you once knew, while clothed in flesh, should take my place, would not this be their united voice, "Prepare, prepare for eternity, you frail short-lived mortals! You close neighbours of death and eternity! You borderers upon heaven and hell—make ready, loosen your hearts from earth, and all that it contains! Weigh anchor, and prepare to launch away into the boundless ocean of eternity—which is now within your sight, and roars within your hearing!"
This I say, brethren, with great confidence, "The time is short! From now on, those who have wives—should live as if they had none; those who mourn—as if they did not; those who rejoice—as though they did not rejoice; those who buy something—as if it were not theirs to keep; those who use the things of the world—as if not engrossed in them. For this world in its present form," in all its schemes of affairs, in all its vain parade, all the futile farce of life, "is passing away!" And away let it pass—if we may at last obtain a better country; that is, a heavenly one! Which may God grant, for Jesus' sake! Amen.
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