The Death of Eminent Ministers, a Public Loss 3
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III. The removal of ministers from the scene of their labors is matter of divine appointment, and all its circumstances of time and place, are according to the counsels of unerring wisdom. Elijah's translation was pre-arranged by God in all its particulars; and the removal of men of less distinction in the church although not a matter of such extensive interest, is no less subject to the divine appointment. If it were possible to conceive that any events connected with the history of man were abandoned to the misrule of chance, all believers in the immortality of the soul would feel disposed, even in the absence of revelation, to ascribe his exit from the world to an interposition of the Deity.
The transit of an immortal spirit from the scenes of a probationary state to the decision of her fate, the entrance of a soul upon her unchanging destiny—is an event which though repeated many thousand times each passing day, is manifestly an occurrence of greater consequence than the revolution of an empire, so far as its temporal history is concerned. Scripture, however, leaves not this matter to the deductions of reason—but pronounces with authority on the subject. Even on the field of battle, that harvest of death where mortals are hurried by thousands into eternity, where death seems left to carry on his havoc without limit or control, every bullet has its commission, and is guided in its flight; even there does Providence accomplish its purposes with reference to individual life, undisturbed and unconfounded amidst the shock of battle, the ruin of defeat, and the madness of victory—no less than in the chamber where the monarch or the minister breathes his last.
No, my brethren, 'Chance' has nothing to do with death! Not the outcast infant of a day old, exposed by its unnatural mother to perish by the tiger or the vulture; nor even the sparrow that dies of hunger in its nest—passes out of life without the knowledge of God. "Don't be afraid!" said Christ, "I am the first and the last, the living one. I was dead, but now I am alive forever! I have the keys of the unseen world and of death." What consolation is there in this sublime declaration! The key of death is never for a moment entrusted out of His hands—and never can be wrested from them. Every time a human being dies, it is by an act of His power, in turning the key which unlocks the gates of death! Our life is under the constant and strict observation of His omniscient eye! He determines the moment when to take the key from His belt, and throw the portals of immortality back on their mighty hinges!
O, what comfort does this impart to us, in reference to our own lives, to know that exposed as we are to all the accidents and diseases of this world of changes, and enveloped as we are in darkness as to the consequences of the next step, and the events of the next hour—we cannot die by a random stroke, or by a blind chance! The key of death must be turned by Him who is infinitely wise, and powerful, and good! And what consolation does it also impart at the grave of those of our friends who have been carried away from scenes of usefulness and labors of importance, to be assured that their removal was effected by Him who knew all that they were doing, and who makes Himself responsible for all the consequences of their death. "See, I am the only God. There are no others. I kill, and I make alive! I wound, and I heal, and no one can rescue you from my power!" Deuteronomy 32:39
IV. The removal of eminent ministers is attended with circumstances which redound to their honor. No chariot of fire, no horses of flame, carry them to the skies by another road than that of the dark valley of the shadow of death; they must submit to the penalty of sin, and take the grave in their way to the crown. But there are other marks of distinction, other honors than a chariot of fire for those who serve God and their race. What a deep and wide-spread interest is fixed on the chamber in which they are expected soon to expire; what sensibilities are set in motion; what sympathy is excited; what prayers are uttered; the whole neighborhood feels an instinctive dread—like the approach of some great catastrophe. And when the stroke has fallen, and the laboring saint has been dismissed to his rest, what tears of regret are shed, what bitter lamentations are heard.
All around seem to be partakers of a common calamity—the aged exclaim, "Alas, my brother!" the younger, "Alas, my father!" Each has some tribute of respect to pay to his memory, some fondly cherished recollection of untold favors, or some secret act of goodness to disclose; some cheering anecdote to tell, or some peculiar cause of bitter regret to acknowledge. Public tokens of commiseration are exhibited; a long and melancholy train of mourning and devout men carry him to his burial; a loud deep groan is heaved from the bosom of the church, and is returned in faithful echo from the world; while the general lamentation prolongs the tribute, in the eulogy of Elisha, "My father, my father, the chariots and horsemen of Israel!" This is the honor he receives from earth; and it is that which every good man may lawfully seek—it is an object of just and honorable ambition not only to live respected—but to die lamented—an honored sepulcher is not only the reward of departed saints—but the stimulus of living ones.
But who can describe, or who conceive, the honor that awaits the departed minister above! Isaiah, in one of the most sublime and beautiful of his figures, has represented hell moved from beneath to meet the king of Babylon at his entrance upon the unseen world; while the chief ones of the earth, the kings of the nations, rising from their thrones, taunt him with his degradation to their level. "All of them shall speak and say to you, Are you also as weak as we? Are you like us? Your pride is brought down to the grave, and the noise of your harps. The maggot is spread under you, and the worms cover you. How you are fallen from the heavens, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How you are cut down to the ground, you who weakened the nations!" (Isaiah 14:10-12)
A scene, the bright reverse of this, awaits the entrance of a faithful and holy minister of Christ into the celestial city. We can imagine how heaven is moved to meet him at his coming; how "the great multitude which no man can count, who have washed their robes, and made them white and clean in the blood of the Lamb," and especially those of the number who owe their felicity to his labors, and who have preceded him in his decease, greet him to the skies; how prophets and apostles, reformers and martyrs, ministers and missionaries—rising from their seats of rest and glory, conduct him into the presence of his Lord, exclaiming, "Thus shall it be done unto the man whom God delights to honor;" while he who sits upon the throne will confirm and approve the welcome, and as he places the crown of life upon his brows shall say, "Well done, good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of your Lord!" Applauding millions catch the note, and "Well done, good and faithful servant, well done, well done!" is repeated by voices resounding as the sound of mighty waters!
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