Ecce Venit: Behold He Cometh

Preface.

THE importance of a doctrine may be judged somewhat by the proportionate space and prominence given to it in the New Testament. Measured by this standard, the theme of Christ’s coming in glory is second to none in Scripture, not even to the atonement itself, in the claim which it makes upon our consideration. "A real pearl of Christian truth and knowledge," a great expositor calls it. And since the merchantmen who seek this goodly pearl are too few, it becomes those who have proved it, both by spiritual experience and scriptural study, to be indeed a pearl of great price, to do their utmost to set forth its excellency. If, therefore, in what we have written we have reflected one purest ray serene from this precious doctrine and glorious hope of the Church, we shall count it a high honor from the Lord.

Would that such a theme might be divested of all controversial aspects! But here, as everywhere, there are schools of interpretation between which one finds himself obliged, whether he will or not, to choose. Pre-millennial or post-millennial advent—Christ’s coming before the millennium or after the millennium—is the issue which divides two great parties of biblical students. We humbly but firmly hold with the first school on this question. If we admit, with the eminent theologian Van Oosterzee,—to whom we acknowledge great indebtedness,—that some courage is required to range one’s self among the defenders of Chiliasm, with him we profess that we do so nevertheless in obedience to faith in the Word, without which we know nothing of the future. And yet here the courage of conviction need not be greatly taxed considering these two facts, viz., that the concession of Church historians, led by such masters as Neander and Harnack, is that pre-millennialism was the orthodox and accepted faith of the Church in the primitive and purest ages; and that the opinion of the most eminent exegetes of our time, that this is the true doctrine of Scripture, so strongly preponderates as to give promise of an early practical consensus.

Pre-millenarians, again, are divided into two schools, the Futurist and the Historical: the former of whom hold that Antichrist is yet to appear, and that the larger part of the Apocalypse remains to be fulfilled; while the latter maintains, with the reformers and the expositors of the early post-Reformation era, that Antichrist has already come in the bloody and blasphemous system of the papacy, and that the Apocalypse has been continuously fulfilling from our Lord’s ascension to the present time. If we turn away from the Futurist interpretation—in which we were nourished and brought up so far as our prophetic studies are concerned—and express our firm adherence to the Historical, it is because we believe that the latter is more scriptural, and rests upon the more obvious and simple interpretation of the Word; and also because we find that it has such verifications in fulfilled history and chronology as to compel even some of its strongest opponents to concede that it is a true interpretation if not the complete and final one. But we deprecate controversy between these schools, since both hold strongly to the hope of the Lord’s imminent return, and are vying with each other in earnest endeavor to restore the doctrine to its true place in the creed and in the consciousness of the Church. It certainly becomes us all, while rejoicing in the light we have, humbly to wait for greater light, assured that, in the foregleams of the approaching advent, contradictions will more and more vanish, till in our gathering together unto Him the watchmen shall lift up the voice, with the voice together shall they sing, for they shall see eye to eye when the Lord shall bring again Zion.

When Samuel Taylor Coleridge had finished reading that remarkable book, Ben Ezra’s Coming of Messiah in Glory and Majesty, he indited the following prayer. With its devout aspirations in our hearts and on our lips, let us come to the study of the exalted theme.

O Almighty God, Absolute Good, Eternal I Am! Ground of my being, Author of my existence, and its ultimate end! mercifully cleanse my heart, enlighten my understanding, and strengthen my will; that if it be needful or furtherant to the preparation of my soul, and of Thy Church, for the advent of Thy kingdom, that I should be led into the right belief respecting the second coming of the Son of man into the world, the eye of my mind may be quickened into quietness and singleness of sight. Amen.

CLARENDON STREET CHURCH, BOSTON,

September 1, 1889

PART I.

Foretold.

This word He has in fact spoken,—‘Hereafter ye shall see the Son of man coming in the clouds of heaven,’—but it is a word of which there is no other example. Even the mad pride of Roman emperors who demanded religious homage for their statues has never gone so far to conceive such an unheard-of thought, and here it is the lowliest among men who speaks. The word must be truth; for there is here no mean term between the truth and madness.

Luthardt.

Ὅτι αὐτòς Ὁ Kύριoς ἐv κελεύσματι, ἐv φωνῇ ἀρχαγγέλου, καì ἐv σάλπιγγι θεοῦ καταβήσεται ἀπ’ οὐρανοῦ.

PAUL, 1 Thess. iv

I.

The Uplifted Gaze.

HAVE we thought how significant and full of instruction is the earliest attitude of the Church as presented in the opening chapter of the Acts: "Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven? In a single graphic sentence is thus indicated the primitive uplook of Christianity; and this question, with what immediately follows, is uttered, not so much for rebuke as for interpretation. The great High Priest has just passed within the veil, and the cloud-curtain has shut Him out of sight. And, as the Hebrew congregation, upon the great day of atonement, looked steadfastly upon the receding form of Aaron as he disappeared within the veil, and continued looking long after he was out of sight, waiting for his reappearance; so exactly did these men of Galilee, though they knew not what they did. And the angels were sent to declare to them the meaning of their action: This same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen Him go into heaven. This is the earliest post-ascension announcement of that gospel of hope which, at the first, began to be spoken by the Lord Himself,—If I go . . . I will come again—which is now confirmed unto us by His angels, and is henceforth to be reiterated by apostle and seer till, from the last page of Revelation, it shall be heard sounding forth its Surely I come quickly."

The second coming of Christ is the crowning event of redemption; and the belief of it constitutes the crowning article of an evangelical creed. For we hold that the excellence of faith is according to the proportion of the Lord’s redemptive work which that faith embraces. Some accept merely the earthly life of Christ, knowing Him only after the flesh; and the religion of such is rarely more than a cold, external morality. Others receive His vicarious death and resurrection, but seem not to have strength as yet to follow Him into the heavens; such may be able to rejoice in their justification without knowing much of walking in the glorified life of Christ. Blessed are they who, believing all that has gone before,—life, death, and resurrection,—can joyfully add this confession also: "We have a great High Priest who is passed through the heavens; and thrice blessed they who can join to this confession still another: From whence also we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ." For it is the essential part of our Redeemer’s priesthood that, having entered in, to make intercession for His people, He shall again come forth to bless them. How sweet was the sound of the golden bells upon the high priest’s garments, issuing from the holy of holies, and telling the waiting congregation of Israel that, though invisible, he was still alive, bearing their names upon his breast-plate, and offering up prayers for them, before God! But, though they listened intently to these reassuring sounds from within the veil, they watched with steadfast gaze for his reappearing, and for the benediction of his uplifted hands that should tell of their acceptance.1 This they counted the crowning act of his ministration. Therefore, says the Son of Sirach, How glorious was he before the multitude of his people, in his coming forth from within the veil! He was as the morning star in the midst of the cloud, or as the moon when her days are full. If this could be said of the typical high priest, how much more of the true! Glorious beyond description will be His reëmergence from the veil; the bright and morning Star, breaking forth from behind the cloud that received Him out of sight; His once pierced hands lifted in benediction above His Church, while that shall be fulfilled which is written in the Hebrews: And when He again bringeth in the Firstborn into the world, He saith, And let all the angels of God worship Him (Heb. i. 6, R. V.).

This attitude of the men of Galilee became the permanent attitude of the primitive Church; so that the apostle’s description of the Thessalonian Christians—"Ye turned to God from idols, to serve the living and true God, and to wait for His Son from Heaven—might apply equally to all. Talk we of the notes of a true Church? Here is one of the most unquestionable,—the uplifted gaze. As apostate Christianity, by a perverse instinct, is perpetually aping the eastward posture of Paganism (Ezekiel viii. 16), so inevitably is apostolic Christianity constantly recurring to the upward posture of Primitivism. What Tholuck says of Israel, that, As no other nation of antiquity, it is a people of expectation, is equally true of the Church of the New Testament. It is anchored upward, not downward; its drawing is forward, not backward; Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which entereth into that within the veil, whither the forerunner is for us entered, even Jesus." As the ancient Anchorius bore the anchor into port, and fastened it there, while as yet the ship could not enter, because of the tide; so has our Prodromos—our Precursor—fixed the Church’s hold within the veil, that it may not drift away through adverse winds or tides. But this anchoring is only a preparation for that entering which He shall effect for us when He shall come again to receive us unto Himself.

What if those who are much occupied with looking up, zealous to "come behind in no gift, waiting for the coming of the Lord," should sometimes be stigmatized as star-gazers and impracticable dreamers? Let them rejoice that, in so acting, they prove themselves, not only the sons of primitive Christianity, but also the sons of primitive humanity. For, in the beginning, God made man upright, both physically and morally. Some tell us that the derivation of ἄνθρωπος—man—makes the word signify an uplooker.2 Certainly, this originally constituted his marked distinction from the brutes that perish, that, while they looked downwards towards the earth, which is their goal, he looked upward toward the heaven for which he was predestined. How significant the question which Jehovah puts to the first sinner of Adam’s sons: "Why is thy countenance fallen?" The wages of sin is death, and the goal of the sinner is the earth with its narrow house. So we find the whole apostate race, from the earliest transgressor onward, with countenance downcast and shadowed with mortality, moving toward the tomb and unable to lift up the eyes. But the sons of the second Adam appear looking steadfastly up to heaven and saying: We see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels, for the suffering of death, crowned with glory and honor. His coronation has restored their aspiration: it has lifted their gaze upward once more to the throne.

The tabernacle imagery is still further suggestive touching the subject under consideration. Ask the ritualist, clothed in his rich vestments, and offering his eucharistic sacrifice upon the altar, why he does thus; and the answer is, that the minister must repeat in the Church on earth what our Great High Priest is doing in the true tabernacle above. But if this principle were faithfully carried out, it would prove the death-warrant of ritualism. The great day of atonement is now passing; let all sacrifices and services cease without the veil. Oh, ye self-ordained priests, why do ye "stand daily ministering and offering, oftentimes, the same sacrifices which can never take away sins? Behold, this Man, after he had offered one sacrifice for sins forever, sat down on the right hand of God, from henceforth expecting till His foes be made His footstool." They most literally reflect His ministry on earth who, at the communion, sit down to remember the sacrifice of Calvary, but not to repeat it; who listen to the Till He come, which it whispers, and so unite with Him in His expecting. He waits for the same event for which He bids us wait, His triumphal return. And for the congregation before the veil, not worship, but work and witnessing, are now the principal calling,—work and witnessing with special reference to that glorious consummation which our Saviour is anticipating. For, as He assigns us our service, this is the language of His commission: "Occupy till I come; and, as He appoints us our testimony, this is the purport of it: And this gospel of the Kingdom shall be preached in all the world, for a witness to all nations; and then shall the end come."

Indeed, let us observe that, since Christ took His place of expectancy within the veil, and assigned us our place of expectancy without the veil, all present duties and spiritual exercises have henceforth an onward look; an advent adjustment, like the needle to the pole. The solemn Maranatha resounds throughout the Scriptures, and forms the key-note in all their exhortations, consolations, warnings.3 Is holy living urged? This is the inspiring motive thereto: "That, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world, looking for that blessed hope and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ (Titus ii. 13). Is endurance under persecution and loss of goods enjoined? This is the language of the exhortation: Cast not away, therefore, your confidence, which hath great recompense of reward. For yet a little while and He that shall come will come and will not tarry (Heb. x. 35-37). Is patience under trial encouraged in the Christian? The admonition is: Be ye also patient; stablish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord draweth nigh (James v. 8). Is sanctification set before us for our diligent seeking? The duties leading up to it culminate in this: And the very God of peace sanctify you wholly; and I pray God your whole spirit and soul and body be preserved blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ (1 Thess. v. 23). Is diligence in caring for the flock of God enjoined upon pastors? This is the reward: Feed the flock of God which is among you, taking the oversight thereof, not by constraint, but willingly; . . . and when the Chief Shepherd shall appear, ye shall receive a crown of glory that fadeth not away" (1 Peter v. 4). Is fidelity to the gospel trust charged upon the ministry? This is the end thereof: "That thou keep this commandment without spot, unrebukable, until the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ (1 Tim. vi. 14). And again: I charge thee in the sight of God and of Christ Jesus, who shall judge the quick and the dead, and by His appearing and His kingdom, preach the word (2 Tim. iv. 1). Space would fail us, indeed, to cite passages of this purport; they so abound that we may say that the key to which the chief exhortations to service and consecration are pitched in the New Testament is: To the end He may stablish your hearts unblamable in holiness before God, even our Father, at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ with all His saints" (1 Thess. iii. 13).

The reader of these and many other texts of like import will observe how God has thus marked His admonitions with the rising inflection, as though to save our Christian living from depression and monotony. Duty done for duty’s sake becomes commonplace; activity inspired by the possible nearness of death has a certain downward emphasis unbecoming the children of the kingdom. Therefore duty—that which is due—is less insisted on in the gospel, as a motive, than reward,—that which may be attained; and as for the imminence of death as an inspiration to devotedness, we never find it once mentioned. It is the advent of the King of glory, "Behold, I come quickly; and My reward is with Me to give to every man according as his work shall be, and not the advent of the kings of terrors, that constitutes the incentive to Christian earnestness. However low the note which is struck in God’s discipline of His people, it is always keyed to a lofty pitch to which it is certain to rise; and if, as in one familiar instance, the inspired discourse drops to the ground-tones of death and doom,—It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment—it is only that it may mount immediately to the exalted strain to which the whole New Testament is tuned,—So Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many, and unto them that look for Him shall He appear a second time without sin unto salvation" (Heb. ix. 28).

Never did a Christian age so greatly need to have its attitude readjusted to the primitive standard as our own,—commerce, so debased with greed of gold; science, preaching its doctrine of dust thou art; and Christian dogmatics, often darkening hope with its eschatology of death! The face of present-day religion is to such degree prone downward that, if some Joseph appears, with his visions of the sun, moon, and stars, men exclaim: Behold, this dreamer cometh. But they that say such things plainly declare that they do not seek a country. There is a tradition that Michael Angelo, by his prolonged and unremitting toil upon the frescoed domes which he wrought, acquired such a habitual upturn of the countenance that, as he walked the streets, strangers would observe his bearing, and set him down as some visionary or eccentric. It were well if we who profess to be Christians of the apostolic school had our conversation so truly in heaven, and our faces so steadfastly set thitherward, that sometimes the man with the muck-rake should be led to wonder at us, and to look up with questioning surprise from his delving for earthly gold and glory. Massillon declares that, in the days of primitive Christianity, it would have been deemed a kind of apostasy not to sigh for the return of the Lord. Then, certainly, it ought not now to be counted an eccentricity to love His appearing, and to take up with new intensity of longing the prayer which He has taught us: Even so, come Lord Jesus. Amid all the disheartenment induced by the abounding iniquity of our times; amid the loss of faith and the waxing cold of love within the Church; and amid the outbreaking of lawlessness without, causing men’s hearts to fail them for fear, and for looking after those things that are coming on the earth,—this is our Lord’s inspiring exhortation: Look up and lift up your heads, for your redemption draweth nigh.

II.

Tarrying Within the Veil.

CENTURIES have passed since our great High Priest disappeared behind the cloud-curtain of the heavenly sanctuary; and His Church, like the people of old who waited for Zacharias, has marvelled that He tarrieth so long in the temple. Pondering the sacred promises of His return, which are written for our hope, we find warnings of startling immediateness, but also mysterious suggestions of possible long delay. In the post-ascension gospel of Revelation, the word is constantly sounding out, "Behold, I come quickly; while in the parables of the kingdom, contained in the closing chapters of the Gospel according to Matthew, we read, While the Bridegroom tarried; and After a long time, the Lord of those servants cometh and reckoneth with them. Yet both of these gospels have the same key-note: Watch,