The Character and Translation of Enoch 3

Next Part The Character and Translation of Enoch 4

"And is this heaven? and am I there?
How short the road! How swift the flight!"

Oh wonderful, ineffable, inconceivable exchange!

But then, on the other hand, what a shock is the sudden death of a friend to survivors! To have the dear object of affection so abruptly snatched from our embrace, and all the tender ties which bound us together severed in a moment! To have no note of preparation sounded in our ears, nor any warning symptoms presented to our sight! To have no time allowed to gather up our strength for the scene of separation! To see no last, longing, lingering look of affection shed back upon us by the retiring saint! To hear no parting words of counsel or consolation, no holy prayer, and to receive no benediction! Is not this sad and sorrowful? Yes! But even this is less painful, after all, than to occupy for days, and weeks, and months, "the dreadful post of observation, darker every hour," and with death hovering in the distance, to see the 'dreadful form' growing broader and clearer, and approaching continually nearer, and have nothing left but the calculation how long it will be before the dart of the last enemy will be hurled!

Who would say, which, even by survivors, is most to be dreaded or desired? What an unutterable mercy it is we are not left to choose which it shall be, either for ourselves or for our friends. It is in the hands of God—can it be in better? There let us leave it, being concerned only how we live; and referring it without anxiety to him—to determine how we shall die.

There is yet one more particular connected with the antediluvian patriarch, and that is the honor that was put upon him, apart from his translation. "He obtained," said the apostle, "this testimony, that he pleased God." This, no doubt, referred to the record of him in the Old Testament, "that he walked with God." Who can please God that does not walk with Him, or who can fail to please Him that does? Enoch's translation was a testimony to that generation of which he was a member, and to the whole world from that time to this—of God's approval of his conduct. And with what other and still more delightful testimonies all this was followed, when he reached the presence of his Lord, we can scarcely imagine. And such testimony awaits everyone who lives as Enoch did, especially every holy and devoted minister of Christ. To him will the great Master say, "Well done, good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of your Lord! You have served me well, and now I will serve you well. You have found grace in my sight—and as you have shared with me the labor and care of my cause in yonder world, come and be one with me in the joy of this!"

Oh, to hear such words, from such lips, at such a time! Conceive the warrior of a hundred battles, returning from the field of conflict crowned with the laurels of a hundred victories, to receive his king's personal and public approval, the thanks of the senate, the applause of his country, and the admiration of the world; what an object of congratulation is such a man! But how dim, and low, and beggarly is all this, compared with the testimony of God, borne before assembled worlds, to the faithful servant of our Lord Jesus Christ—an honor, the beginning and pledge of which has already lighted on the brow of our departed friend. All the watching, praying, mortification, and self-denial of the Christian life, all the anxiety, labor, and trials of the Christian minister or missionary, yes, all the sufferings of martyrdom in its most protracted or awful form, are to this but the light afflictions of a moment, compared with the exceeding great and eternal weight of glory! To be told by Jesus from his own lips, and with ineffable affection beaming in his eye, and smiling in his countenance, that we have pleased Him! Oh, who would not live through a life long as Methuselah's and afflicted as Paul's—and find at last in that one testimony, an ample reward for all?

This subject is so replete with INSTRUCTION that the only difficulty is to select such inferences as are most in point.

With such a fact before us is it not impossible to separate the idea of locality from heaven? However difficult it may be for us to associate spirits with space, we cannot avoid doing so with bodies—and those of Enoch, Elijah, and our Lord must be in some place; and so will the bodies of all the saints at the resurrection. Yet it is very clear that it is the design of the Holy Spirit in the records of Scripture, to confine our attention chiefly to the idea of state and condition. We are there told what heaven is—but not where. Curiosity is repressed—but the judgment is informed on all substantial points.

"In vain our fancy strives to paint
The moment after death,
The glories that surround the saint,
When he resigns his breath!

"Thus much, and this is all we know—
They are completely blessed,
Are done with sin, and care, and woe,
And with their Savior rest!"

And is not this enough to know? More would gratify our curiosity—but would it sanctify the heart? We walk by faith! No matterwhere we shall be; when we know what we shall be—perfectly holy and perfectly happy; and with whom we shall be—even with the Lord Jesus to behold His glory. The general and moral aspect of heaven as given in the Bible is its glory. How chaste, dignified, majestic, are the descriptions of our Paradise, compared with that of Mohammed, with the Roman elysium, or the fantastic representations of the Hindus, and other Pagan nations.

Can we help being struck with the abundant evidence of the glorious doctrines of a future state, the immortality of the soul, and the resurrection of the body—with which we are furnished in the Word of God? This is no speculation of man's judgment, no dream of philosophy, no mere vision of excited hope—but the revelation of God! "Jesus Christ has abolished death and brought life and immortality to light by the gospel." "We know in whom we have believed." "We know that if the earthly house of our tabernacle were dissolved we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens."

In the translation of Enoch and Elijah, as well as in the resurrection and ascension of Christ, we have, in addition to all God's promises, the evidence of facts. And what facts! How sublime in themselves, and how chastely and simply told! Let any one read the wild, extravagant, and monstrous stories of the Koran, or the earthly, though tasteful, and often lewd fables of the classic mythology, and compare with them the facts of divine revelation. When such an extraordinary event was to be related as the translation of an eminent saint, it is simply said, "He was not—for God took him." Had this been human invention, how many details of strange and astounding matters would have been narrated; and what particulars of a marvelous story would have been related. How much of the pomp and parade of circumstance would have been introduced, and what a complicated and decorated web of glory would have been wrought. How different the case before us. This brevity and chaste simplicity are the evidence of authenticity and inspiration.

Who would not desire to belong to that community of which Enoch was a member—and to follow him to that world to which he ascended? The saints before the flood and after, of the old covenant and the Christian covenant—all meet in Christ, and form but one church, under one glorious head. To that belong the illustrious band of the patriarchs, the goodly fellowship of the prophets, the glorious company of the apostles, the noble army of martyrs, and all who ever have lived in the faith and fear of God, and all that ever will. Who that has a spark of holy ambition, a particle of lofty aspiration, a single grand or noble thought, would not wish, and long, and pray, and labor, to be numbered with that holy community? What are men's highest social relations, distinctions, and privileges, compared with this? Let us all choose to cast in our lot with these distinguished and eternally happy people!

Can we help wondering at the condescension of God in granting to his people, even on earth, so vast an honor, as to walk with him in habits of holy friendship? That we should reverence and obey him as servants, is what belongs to our nature, relation and duty; but that we should walk with him as friends, is, on his part, an act of surpassing grace; as it is on ours of no less surpassing honor and felicity! To what aggrandizement has our religion elevated us! The privileges of the believers, by their vastness generate a kind of scepticism. It seems as if it were impossible that such distinction should, or could belong to us!

Nor ought we to omit to suggest to the surviving friends of pious departed relatives—the happiness of those they have lost. They have not gone by the same road as Enoch—but they have arrived at the same home! God has taken them to himself, though he took them not in the same way. And so much more important is the end than the way—that, compared with the idea of reaching heaven at last—it is scarcely worthy a thought, whether they ascended, like Elijah, in a chariot of fire, or traveled along the dark valley of the shadow of death. How would Enoch, had he been permitted to speak to them from the skies, have reproved the excessive grief and immoderate tears of the friends who mourned and wept over his departure—and how, if our godly friends could speak to us from heaven, would they also reprove us in the language of our Lord to his disciples, and say, "If you loved me, you would rejoice that I say unto you, I go unto my Father."

Is this our religion? Does this aptly set forth our life? It makes no difference to which church we belong, nor what creed we adopt, nor what ceremonies we profess, nor what zeal for eternal things connected with religion we manifest—if we are not walking with God. Reconciliation with him through faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, a habitual acting as in his sight and with a view to his approbation, and a life of devotional communion with him—is true religion—in whomever or wherever found. Is this religion ours? Do we intelligently, experimentally, know the meaning of that phrase—walking with God? Let us set it down before us, look at it, ponder it, and never cease to study it, until we know its meaning, and feel its force. None are walking to heaven—but those who are walking with God! All others are walking to perdition! We hear a great deal about other things that are connected with religion, its doctrines, its forms, its professions—but walking with God is true religion. If we know nothing of this, we know nothing of true piety. Men may walk with God in any form of church government, and they may also in anyone, walk contrary to Him. It is this, and not any external matter, that distinguishes the real from the nominal Christian, and it is this which also distinguishes the earnest real Christian from the comparatively lukewarm one; the former walks closely with God, presses, so to speak, to his very side; while the other, like Peter, during his season of cowardice, follows afar off. Let us all be admonished by the death of friends to come into closer communion with our Heavenly Father. We all need more, far more, of that divine life which is the beginning of our eternal life. Let us not only sing and sigh out the wish—but act upon it,

"Oh, for a closer walk with God,
A calm and heavenly frame,
A light to shine upon the road
That leads me to the Lamb."

I now come to the subject of this mournful occasion. The Rev. Thomas Weaver was born in London, where he was educated in the principles and forms of the Church of England; and where he received the rite of confirmation from the hands of that excellent prelate, Bishop Porteous. By what means or at what time, his soul was converted to God, and his religious character formed, I have not learned—nor do I know what particular circumstances gave rise to his separation from the religious communion in which he had been brought up, or, subsequently, from secular concerns to the duties of the sacred office.

He obtained his ministerial education at Hoxton College, in London—and upon receiving a cordial invitation from the church assembling in this place, he settled among them as their pastor in the year 1798—not, however, until after some hesitation about such a step, arising from the depressed state of the congregation, and the somewhat repulsive aspect, spiritually viewed, of some of its members. His decision seems to have been made under the advice of a ministerial friend, who, in reference to some of those who were least attractive to him, quaintly and quietly said, "Death will soon help you there."

His ministry, commenced under such disadvantageous circumstances, proved, by the blessing of God, successful; and by his diligence, devotedness, and eminent prudence and piety, he soon raised the congregation to very considerable prosperity, both as regards numbers and respectability. His history proves to our young ministers what may be done by entire ministerial devotedness in raising up a sunken congregation; and also that they should not be in haste either to refuse or leave a situation, because first appearances are unfavorable. It was Mr. Weaver's privilege in the subsequent years of his pastorate, to be blessed and aided by men in the deacon's office, who held up his hands and encouraged his heart in the oversight of the church; especially one* to whom, not only this society—but the denomination to which it belongs, is deeply indebted for his numerous biographical and apologetical works in commemoration of our most distinguished nonconformist predecessors, whose names are the boast of Christendom, and in exposition of our simple, scriptural, and spiritual polity.

Next Part The Character and Translation of Enoch 4

Back to John Angell James