The Blessed Hope: A Sermon on the Death of Mrs. Francis Cunningham

This world is full of sorrow, for the simple reason that it is full of sin, and wherever sin is, separation and sorrow are certain, sooner or later, to follow in its train. So have they followed at this present time, for the event that has brought us together is a separation that has called forth a general sorrow throughout the place. It has not been merely respect that has led to so kind and almost universal an exhibition of feeling throughout your town, for respect is, after all, but a cold thing, and there has been nothing cold on this occasion. There has been a deep and tender sympathy, the mournful sense of real bereavement in very many affectionate hearts.

Now let us none suppose that real, true, heartfelt, and sympathizing sorrow is inconsistent with the christian character, for if such a thought could be for a moment entertained, it would be removed at once by the one simple statement, “Jesus wept.” The tears of true sorrow, therefore, are in perfect harmony with the character of Christ. Sorrow is not eradicated by the Gospel, but has its character changed by it. The Holy Spirit does not harden the heart against grief, but comforts the mourner in the midst of it. The deep waters are not frozen, so that the child of God can coldly walk across dry footed; but they retain their character, and are deep waters still; and the believer is held up in passing through them, so that, though deep, they cannot overflow him. The effect is much the same as that of the coloured glass upon the light; the light shines still, but a new hue is given to it. Just so is it with sorrow. Like the light it remains within the soul, and is not extinguished by the power of grace; but like the light passing through the coloured glass, it acquires a new colouring, and is beautifully softened by the sacred hope presented to us in Christ Jesus. Thus the passage does not simply say “that ye sorrow not,” for if it did, it would imply that grief was sinful, but it says “that ye sorrow not even as others that have no hope,” so teaching us that through still felt, sorrow may be softened within the heart.

The passage also teaches what is the principle by which this change is to be effected, viz: hope; for when there is no hope, there is nothing left but the sorrow of the world. I feel therefore that I cannot select a safer subject for our careful study on this solemn day. The Spirit indeed appears especially to have stamped it with his own authority as peculiarly suitable for such a season, for He has said in v. 18, “Wherefore comfort one another with these words.” May He grant then his own blessing on the words which shall be now spoken! May He raise our thoughts to things above! May he teach us to realize the blessed hope! And may He so make use of the present sorrow as to prepare our souls for a tearless re-union before the throne of Jesus!

I. The first thing to be noticed in the passage, is the light which it incidentally throws on the present state of departed believers.

The prominent point of hope presented to our view is very clearly the glorious coming of our blessed Lord, with the accompanying resurrection and reunion of his saints. But the present position of the soul is three times incidentally mentioned, and each of these times is described under the beautiful figure of sleep. Twice are our dear brethren described as those “which are asleep,” and once as those “which sleep in Jesus.”

What then are we to understand by this expression? Are we to regard it as proving their present state to be one of unconsciousness or stupor? God forbid! for then how could such a spirit as hers that has now left us, say, “To me to live is Christ, to die is gain.” She could truly say during her life time, “I delight to do thy will O Lord,” and it could be no gain to such an one to sink down into stupor and inactivity.

But still they are said to sleep in Christ, and the beautiful suitability of the expression may be seen from two points of view.

In the first place, death is the separation of the immortal spirit from the mortal body, and the body alone now lies sleeping in the grave. When we assembled around that opened grave on Friday, it was to leave there the body. We committed her body to the grave, “earth to earth, dust to dust, ashes to ashes.”

And this body may be justly said to sleep. It sleeps, for it is without feeling. There is no pain or languor now, no advancing illness, or exhaustion from decaying strength. This is all over now, and the poor body sleeps in Jesus.

Then again it is a sleep, for the time of labour has now passed. That beautiful and cheerful activity which for twenty-five years has been such a blessing and example to this place, is now over. The night is come when she cannot work, and let us who remain learn the lesson that while the day lasts, we must be, like her, most vigorously employed for God.

And lastly it is a sleep, for it is not permanent, but only for a time. The night is quickly passing; already we see the streaks of morning; and when the Son of Righteousness appears, the sleeping body shall spring from the couch of its slumber, and take its place in the great company before the throne of a risen Lord.

Thus the body may be well said to sleep in the tomb. But the immortal spirit who shall fetter, who shall entomb it? The immortal spirit never sleeps, it needs no sleep, for it knows no fatigue, and the language of the Scripture is, “They rest not day and night, saying Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come.” Rev. iv, 8.

But again, with reference to the soul itself, the present state is well represented by the figure of sleep, and for this reason: that sleep is the season of repose, and the repose of those we love above is perfect. You remember the voice heard from heaven, the voice of the Holy Ghost bearing testimony on this peaceful subject, “I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, ‘Write, blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: Yea saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours.” They rest, therefore, in sweet repose, but repose is not insensibility. It involves no want of consciousness, and accordingly you have two passages apparently conflicting, but really in perfect harmony, the one saying that they rest, the other that they rest not, for the one refers to labours, the other to thanksgiving; the one describes the perfection of repose, the other the equal perfection of joyous, unceasing, and unfatigued activity.

Thus as to all that shall harass, distress, and grieve, there is repose or sleep. The world may be distracted by war and all its horrors, but the soul above is undisturbed by the tumult, for no storm can ruffle the calm surface of the sea of glass. There may be bitter sorrow filling many a broken heart, but it is unknown there, for as God himself has undertaken to wipe away all tears from their eyes. No fears or doubts are known there, for they are all allayed and scattered by the actual presence and perceptible love of their Saviour himself in the very midst of them. Above all there is no sin there. While sin lasts there can be no repose; but there, sin never enters; it may be sought for, but cannot be found, for it is all blotted out by the blood of the Lamb, and is remembered no more before the throne of God. And so it is with the beloved spirit now departed. She has wept, and those who knew her best remember well what a true mourner she was, and how deep was her feeling of heartfelt grief when it pleased God to remove from her the dear relatives whom she tenderly loved. But she weeps no more; every tear is dry, and every sorrow passed for eternity. She has had her fears, her doubts, her conflicts of soul, but there are none now; her race is run, she rests in her Lord, she sleeps in Jesus. She has struggled against sin, she has wrestled with God for holiness, as many of you know well, who have had the privilege of uniting with her in the outpourings of her soul before the throne. But it is all past now. There is not a spot in the white robe: she reposes a spotless conqueror before God.

As to all that may distress, therefore, there is repose. But as to the sinless emotions of a living soul, we have the clearest evidence of Scripture that there is all the joy of activity without fatigue. No! there is no stupor, nor any want of consciousness to that light and lovely spirit. It is all life now, and life unfettered by the clogs and hindrances of decaying flesh. Memory is not dormant, for remember the vivid glow of gratitude with which the living ones before the throne adore the Lamb for having redeemed them by his blood from the various nations of mankind. Nor hope, for in that same song we find the joyful anticipation of their future reign. Nor praise, for the language of heaven is full of praise; and wherever the ransomed spirits speak it is in praise. Think not that the love is lost or deadened, for these sweet hymns in which so many amongst you have so often rejoiced to join with the departed. It is dangerous in such a matter to attempt to draw aside the veil, and we must not venture to let go imagination; but yet it seems as though we could almost perceive the new joy at the new song; the deep emotion, the elevated expression, and the hallowed animation with which she has already taken her place in the blessed chorus before the throne of her Lord.

When, therefore, we speak of sleeping in Christ, we must not understand a state of insensibility, or any want of consciousness; but of sacred rest, of conscious, intelligent rest, in the peaceful enjoyment of the presence of the Lord. But as stated already, this rest, however glorious, is only the intermediate state, and it is mentioned as it were, incidentally, while drawing your thoughts to the crowning point—the grand expectation of the church of Christ.

II. Let us consider then, secondly, The bright hope of the whole family.

By the whole family, we mean the whole vast multitude of the children of God, “the whole family in heaven and earth;” now divided for awhile into two classes, the living and the departed; but really one in Christ, and about to be one in their common enjoyment of the blessings of his advent. Of these two portions neither has reached beyond the range of hope. The blessedness of the departed is unbounded now, but there are greater things in store for them; their cup seems full, but it shall be fuller still when Christ comes. The resurrection, not the death-bed, is the hope of the believer. We look not so much to the day when we enter the grave, and dear friends in bitter weeping part with us, as to the happy hour when we shall quit it, and those same friends rejoicing rise with us.

To this long expected hour the passage clearly refers, “For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. For this we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive and remain, shall not prevent them which are asleep. For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the Archangel, and with the trump of God; and the dead in Christ shall rise first.”