THE TRUE
CHRISTIAN
By John Angell James, 1846
HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS
"So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is
unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." 2
Cor. 4:18
"Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things."
Col. 3:2
My dear friends,
The subject of this address is heavenly-mindedness. It may seem,
perhaps, that there is considerable sameness in these first three letters of
the series which it is my intention to lay before you. That they are alike
and related, I admit, but not that they are identical; and, indeed, they are
selected on account of their relation to each other, and with the hope of
mutually aiding to deepen, by the repetition and concentration of one train
of thought, the impression which each by itself, and the three together, are
intended to produce.
Heavenly-mindedness is an expression that explains
itself, it is the minding
of heaven; or the exercise of the thoughts and affections upon those
invisible but eternal realities, which are declared by the Scriptures to
await the Christian beyond the grave. Spirituality is one branch of
holiness; and heavenly-mindedness is spirituality, exercised in reference to
one specific object—the celestial state.
Alas! how little of this is there to be found even among
professing Christians—
"How low their hopes of heaven above,
How few affections there."
The description given by the apostle of the predominant
taste and pursuits of the men of the world—"They mind earthly things"—too
well suits a large proportion of those who have 'professed' to come out from
the world, and to be a people separated unto God. How engrossed are they,
not only in the business, but in the cares, the love, and the enjoyment of
earthly vanities. Who would imagine, to see their conduct, to hear their
conversation, to observe their spirit—so undevout, and so worldly—that these
were the men, who have heaven in their eye, their heart, their hope? Even to
them, we would be inclined to think, that the Paradise of God is nothing
more than a name, a sublime fiction, a sacred vision, which, with all its
splendor, has scarcely power enough to engage their thoughts and fix their
regards. How little effect has it to elevate them above a predominant
earthly-mindedness, to comfort them in trouble, to minister to their
happiness, or to mortify their corruptions. Can it be that they are
seeking for, and going to glory, honor, and immortality—who think so little
about it, and derive so small a portion of their enjoyment from the
expectation of it?
What is heaven? The Bible, and the Bible only, can
answer this question—and even this, though a revelation from God, but
partially discloses the infinite and eternal reality. There is enough to
excite, sustain, and animate hope—but far too little to gratify curiosity.
Substantials are revealed, circumstantials are withheld. In the Bible heaven
is represented, rather as a state of mind, than as a place.
Where objects of sense and locality are spoken of, they are to be
understood, for the most part, in a figurative, and not in a literal
meaning.
The description of the celestial world, as we find it in
the Word of God, has always appeared to me one of the most striking and
convincing of the internal evidences of Christianity. The Elysium of the
Greeks and Romans; the Paradise of Mahomet, and the various fantastic ideas
of the world beyond the grave, entertained by modern pagans, are all of the
earth, earthly; nothing more or better than earthly and sensual
gratifications rendered immortal. How different the heaven of the New
Testament; how pure, how spiritual, how unearthly, how divine! How strictly
in harmony with the sublime and holy character of God! How befitting a
creature, intelligent and holy! How completely different from everything
which the unholy, sensual, and earthly mind of man would ever have devised!
How far remote from the track of all his thoughts!
Heaven is usually called eternal life, that
is—eternal happy existence—everlasting existence, with all that can
render existence a blessing. But what are the elements of its felicity? As
regards our own condition, they consist of a soul, possessed of
perfect knowledge, perfect holiness, perfect liberty, perfect love; united
with a body raised from the grave, incorruptible, immortal, and
spiritual. As regards our relations to other beings, heavenly bliss means
our dwelling in the immediate presence of Christ; the perfect vision,
service, likeness, and enjoyment of God—the society and converse of angels,
and the spirits of just men made perfect. Connected with this, is the
absence of everything that annoys, disturbs, or distresses us in this life.
Such is the scripture-representation of heaven, as will be seen by
consulting the following scriptures. Psalm 16:11; 17:15. John 3:14, 15, 36;
17:24. Rom. 2:7; 8:18. 1 Cor. 15. 2 Cor. 4:17. Philip 1:21; 3:21. Heb. 4:9;
12:22-24. 1 John 3:2. Rev. 7:9-17; 21.,22.
"My chief conception of heaven," said Robert Hall to
Wilberforce, "is rest."—"Mine," replied Wilberforce, "is LOVE; love
to God, and love to every bright and holy inhabitant of that glorious
place." Hall was an almost constant sufferer from acute bodily pain;
Wilberforce enjoyed life, and was all amiability and sunshine; so that it is
easy to account "for their respective conceptions of this subject. What a
mercy that both these conceptions are true." Yes, both are true; and the
union of rest and love, perhaps, conveys, within a small compass, the most
correct idea of the heavenly state.
Following the order of the representation given in the
address on Spirituality of Mind, I observe, that heavenly-mindedness
means the spontaneous, frequent, delightful, practical bent of our
reflections toward eternal life. A heavenly-minded man is one who, as a
convinced, condemned sinner, having obtained a title to eternal life,
through faith in the blood and righteousness of Christ, and a fitness for
it, in the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit, considers himself as a
pilgrim and stranger upon earth—regards heaven as his native country, and as
instinctively turns his thoughts to it, as he who in a distant part of the
world, feels his mind and heart attracted to his home. Scarcely a day passes
during which no thought of his mind, no glance of the eye of faith, turns to
the glory to be revealed.
In his solitary musings in the house, or by the way, the
object is present to his mind to occupy his thoughts, to refresh and delight
his spirit—and when he is with others like-minded with himself, it is his
delight to converse upon the country to which they are traveling. Precious
to him are those parts of Scriptural revelation which speak of the life to
come, and exhibit to him, amid the darkness of his way, the distant lights
of his father's house. Sermons that represent the holiness and happiness of
heaven are delightful to his heart; books that describe it are congenial
with his taste; and the songs of Zion, which sounds like the echo of its
divine harmonies, excite all his hallowed sensibilities, and elevate his
spirit to catch some of the falling rays of the excellent glory. The
beautiful symbols of heavenly bliss, the city too bright with inherent
splendor to need the sun; the walls of jasper, the gates of pearl, and
streets of pure gold, like unto clear glass; the crown of life; the harp of
gold; the palm of victory; the white robe; the song of salvation sounding
from the countless multitude of the redeemed; all by turns seize and fix his
imagination; while his enlightened judgment and his holy heart, letting go
these brilliant images, repose upon the realities they are intended to
portray—the presence of God, the vision of the Lamb, the sinless purity, the
eternal rest, the communion of the blessed, the fellowship of angels.
The heavenly-minded man not only employs his thoughts,
but sets his affections
on things above. His hope and his heart are there. He does not wish
it, it would not be proper that he should, instantly to dissolve his ties
with earth, and leaving his family and connections fly the next moment to
his eternal home—he is willing to wait as long as it is his heavenly
Father's will to detain him upon earth—but he is willing to leave all and go
to God, whenever it is judged proper by him to decide the matter—that he
should go up to the mount and die. His hopes of heaven do much to destroy
his love of life—and fear of death. If nature shrinks, as it sometimes
will, at the approach of dissolution, he looks beyond the gloomy passage,
and anticipates by a lively hope, the moment when "lifting his last step
from the wave, having passed the stream of death, he shall linger and look
wondrously back upon its dark waters, then gilded with the light of
immortality, and rippling peacefully on the eternal shore."
It is not in suffering only that he feels a longing after
immortality, for it is no indication of heavenly-mindedness to wish to
depart in order to get rid of trouble. Impatience to die is often felt by
those who have ceased to feel any attractions in life, and the grave is
coveted as a shelter from the 'storms of earth'. There is nothing holy in
such wishes; nothing heavenly in such impatience; it is only nature groaning
after rest, and not grace longing for its perfection. Perhaps the most holy
frame is to have no will or wish about the matter—but a readiness to live or
die as God shall appoint. If, however, a preference may be cherished, and
the soul rises into a longing to depart, the only ground on which it can
with propriety be indulged is—an earnest desire to get rid of sin—to be near
and like Christ—to serve God more perfectly—and to glorify him more
entirely. And such desires after immortality, when no tie binds us to earth,
are legitimate and holy.
Happy moments there sometimes are, alas! how rare, in the
experience of the spiritual Christian, when such are his views of the
desirableness of heaven, that he feels as if he should be glad to break down
the prison-walls of his spirit, and let her go forth into the liberty of her
eternal felicity. The celebrated John Howe once had such a view of heaven,
and such a desire to depart, that he said to his wife—"Though I think I love
you as well as it is fit for one creature to love another, yet if it were
put to my choice, whether to die this moment, or live through this night;
and living this night would secure the continuance of life for seven years
longer, I would choose to die this moment." Still the glory of a Christian
is to be neither weary of the world nor fond of it; to be neither
afraid of death nor impatient after it; to be willing to go to heaven the
next hour from the greatest comforts—or to wait for it through many
lingering years, amid the greatest hardships, the most self-denying and
laborious duties, and the severest and most complicated sufferings.
The heavenly-minded man goes farther than this, and
prepares for future
glory. Considering heaven not merely as an object of delightful
contemplation of devout imagination, or of holy revery—a sublime and
splendid picture for a visionary piety to gaze upon—but as a state of moral
being, action, and service, for which a fitness is required—he diligently
cultivates those dispositions which the Word of God assures him belong to,
and are to be exercised in the celestial state. He has a post to fill, a
situation to occupy, a service to perform in heaven, and for which he knows
the necessary qualifications must be acquired on earth.
Death is only a physical change, and as far as we
can understand, produces no moral effect. Grace is the preparation
for glory, and he who has most grace, is most fitted for glory. The man
who is going to occupy a place in the palace, endeavors to acquire courtly
manners, and to provide himself with a court dress. So the eminently
spiritual Christian considers himself as going in to dwell in the palace of
the King of kings, and his great business upon earth is to prepare himself
with the qualifications and dress of the celestial court. And as he clearly
perceives that the prevailing dispositions of heaven are purity and love, he
labors to grow in holiness and charity. If asked, in any situation or
circumstance, or at any period, what are you engaged in or employed about?
his answer is, "I am dressing for heaven; making myself ready to go in and
dwell with Christ. Having a post to fill in the divine palace, I am
preparing for it by the mortification of sin, and a growth in grace."
Such is heavenly-mindedness—but, alas! where is it to be
found? I know where it ought to be found—in every professing
Christian. His principles demand it, his profession requires it, his
prospects justify it. "If we should give a stranger to Christianity an
account of the Christian's hopes, and tell him what Christians are, and what
they expect to enjoy before long, he would sure promise himself to find so
many 'angels' dwelling in human flesh, and reckon when he came among them,
he should be as amid the heavenly choir; every one full of joy and praise.
He would expect to find us living on earth as the inhabitants of heaven—as
so many pieces of immortal glory, lately dropped down from above, and
shortly returning there again. He would look to find everywhere in the
Christian world 'incarnate glory', sparkling through the overshadowing veil;
and wonder how this earthly sphere should be able to contain so many great
souls." And oh, how astonished, surprised, and disgusted would he be to
witness the earthly-mindedness, and to hear the worldly conversation of the
great bulk of professing Christians—as if heaven were nothing more than a
splendid painting to adorn their temples of religion, and to be looked at
once a week; but not a glorious reality to be ever before their eyes, to
form their character, to regulate their conduct, support them in trouble,
and furnish their chief happiness!
What a source of
strong consolation and
ineffable delight is a heavenly mind to its possessors! This
is what the apostle calls "rejoicing in hope of the glory of God."
Could we actually look into the celestial world, and see its felicities and
honors; could we hear the very sounds of paradise, and have the songs of the
redeemed continually, or at intervals, undulating on our ear; could the rays
of the excellent glory, literally fall upon our path—how constantly would we
go on our way rejoicing, as we reflected that each step brought us nearer to
this world of light and love; and of purity and immortality! How soft would
be the cares, how tolerable the sorrows, how easy the most difficult duties,
so soon to be laid aside amid such rest and such happiness! This sight of
heaven would irradiate the darkest scenes of earth, and prevent us from
being seduced by the beauties of the fairest worldly trifle.
Who could weep while heaven was spreading out its glories
to comfort us, and opening its doors to receive us! Who could think much of
that sickness—which was sustained beneath the vision of an incorruptible
inheritance; or of those losses—which came upon them in sight of an infinite
portion that never fades away! There would need no amusement or recreation
to make us happy, while listening to the song of salvation—nor of any other
pleasure to cheer us. This mixture of the view of heaven with the scenes of
earth, would change the aspect of everything, and give truth to the
expressions of the poet—
"The men of grace have found,
Glory begun below."
And what more than a heavenly mind, a vigorous, lively,
and influential faith—is necessary to give something like a reality to this?
Heaven does exist; all these glories are above us and before us, though we
see them not; and it is only to believe them as they may be, and ought to be
believed, and we shall rejoice in them with joy unspeakable and full of
glory. Vivacious thoughts of them would, in measure, produce the same kind
of happiness as seeing them. Happy would we be amid all the cares, and
labors, and sorrows, and trials of earth, if in meditation, and by faith and
hope, we could thus dwell on the borders of the promised land. It would be
to pitch our tent on Mount Pisgah, and constantly to have the promised land
spreading out in boundless and beautiful perspective before us.
Nor is it our comfort only that would be promoted
by a heavenly mind, but our
sanctity also. "Every man who has this hope in him," says the
apostle, "purifies himself even as he is pure." 1 John 3:3. Heaven, being a
holy state, yes, the very perfection of holiness; does, by a natural
process, render those holy who meditate upon it, believe it, hope for it,
and long for it. Men's hopes always affect their conduct, and transform
their characters into a likeness to the nature of the objects of their
desires and expectations. How effectually guarded from temptation to lust,
worldly-mindedness, and malice—is he whose affections are strongly fixed
upon a state of purity, spirituality, and love! Who that is drinking
happiness from the crystal river that flows from the throne of God and the
Lamb, can take up with the filthy puddle of worldly amusements? What
mortification of sin, what conquest of besetting corruption, what
eradication of evil tempers, what suppression of unholy disposition goes on,
when the soul fixes the 'eye of faith' on unseen and eternal realities!
Yes, what discoveries of hidden and unsuspected sins are
made, when the light of heavenly glory is let into the soul! In looking so
much to earth, and earthly-minded men, we become so familiarized with sin,
as to lose our clear perceptions, our accurate discrimination of its evil
nature, and our accurate sensibilities to its criminality and odiousness. We
lose our self-abhorrence for our own sins, by the view of so much evil
without and around us. And we recover our keenness of vision, and tenderness
of conscience, only by lifting up our eyes to that pure and blessed region,
where no sin dwells, and holiness is in perfection; and where,
One view of Jesus as he is,
Will strike all sin forever dead.
You will much wish to know
how such a heavenly state of mind
may be promoted.
You must be
WILLING to have it. Willing! you exclaim, with somewhat of
surprise, "Who is not willing? Who would not enjoy such a holy and heavenly
frame?" You, perhaps, who ask the question! Comparatively few are
willing to be heavenly-minded. The great bulk even of professing Christians
do not want this state of the soul. They want to enjoy earth; they are ever
seeking new devices by which to be more and more gratified by things seen
and temporal; they are ever seeking to invest earth with new charms,
and to throw greater attractions over the scenes that surround them. They do
not wish to have the luxuriance of their earthly affections repressed, or
the exuberance of their worldly joys restrained. It is no part of their
plan, or wish, or effort, or prayer—to have one single terrestrial delight
limited or displaced by such as are heavenly! Very few are willing
then, to be heavenly-minded—and if not willing, they will never attain to
it!
You must be not only willing but
DESIROUS of this
frame. It must appear to you a state to be coveted and longed for; and for
which you would be willing to part with some worldly joys, and the pleasures
of earth—to endure the discipline of trial, and the influence of sorrow.
Your heart must be set upon it—your soul must pant after it.
It must appear to you not only desirable, but
ATTAINABLE. No such
idea must be in your mind as that it is too high an elevation of piety for
you to reach, too difficult an acquirement for you to make. Do
not imagine that it is the devotion of the cloister and the monastery, and
which can be cultivated only by the recluse. Spiritual and heavenly
Christians have been found, too rarely I admit, amid all the cares of a
large family, and all the urgency of an extensive trade. Besides, if you
cannot attain to as much of this celestial temper as some others, may you
not have much more of it than you already possess? Do not even your
circumstances allow of improvement and increase?
Use the right means for acquiring it.
BELIEVE its reality.
Your faith is too weak to be influential. It is not so much a deep
conviction, a full persuasion, a confident anticipation—but only 'a mere
opinion'. You have the name of heaven upon your lips, but not the grand
idea, the glorious reality in your mind—the infinite, the transcendent
conception, does not occupy and fill the soul. You are too much a stranger
to the force of that expression, "lay hold on eternal life."
Acquire a clear and satisfactory evidence of your
personal interest in
the joys and glories of immortality. "Give all diligence to the full
assurance of hope unto the end." Unite the full assurance of hope, with
the full assurance of understanding and of faith. What is our own, more
interests us, though it be little—than what belongs to another, though it be
far greater. The heir of a small estate has his mind and heart far more
occupied about his little inheritance—than about the vast domain bordering
it, of some wealthy peer. Realize your personal interest in heaven. If you
are indeed a child of God, seek the witness of the spirit to your sonship;
and if a child of God, then you are to heir of God, and joint heir with
Christ! After reading the gracious promises, and surveying the boundless
prospects of eternal glory—indulge the thoughts that these are all yours!
Yours to be admitted to the presence of God and Christ, and to dwell there
forever! Yours to be like God and Christ in purity, love, knowledge, and
immortality! Yours to be the everlasting companion of all holy angels and
blessed spirits. Call the joys of heaven your own—and they will then be
infinitely more attractive than they now are!
Give yourselves time for
reading, meditation, and prayer.
You must keep the world within due bounds—as to the time it occupies in your
thoughts and life. If you allow it to take and keep the occupancy of the
whole day, from the time you open your eyes in the morning, until you close
them at night—you cannot grow in this grace of heavenly-mindedness. If you
don't resist the world's engrossing, absorbing power—your soul must
suffer, your salvation be endangered, your heaven be lost. Oh, will you,
with glory, honor, immortality above you, and before you—allow yourselves to
be so engaged with worldly trifles—as to have no time to think of them, or
to look at them! With the splendor of heavenly and eternal glory beaming
upon your path, blazing around you, will you be so taken up with the world,
as to hurry by and not turn aside to see this great sight!
Oh, Christians, believers—at least professed
believers in immortality—is it thus you treat that heaven which occupied the
thoughts of God from eternity, which was procured by the death of Christ
upon the cross, which is the substance of revealed truth, and the end of all
God's dispensations of providence and grace to man! What! no time to retire
and meditate on eternal life! Will you—can you—dare you, bring yourself to
utter such an expression as this, "I am really so taken up with my business,
that I cannot retire to meditate and pray." Then I must tell you, you have
no time to be saved; although plenty of time to be lost!
Go into your closet, and with your Bible as the telescope
that brings eternal glories near—meditate, meditate upon heaven! Survey its
glories—go over them in detail and in succession. Dwell upon the presence of
God; upon being with Christ; upon perfect love, perfect purity, perfect
liberty, perfect knowledge, perfect bliss. Contemplate their infinity, their
immensity, their eternity. Oh, what thoughts, what topics, what sources of
delight! What sublime, elevating subjects for the child of dust, of sin, of
sorrow, of mortality—to indulge in! What a reflection upon us, that we
should need to be admonished to turn our thoughts that way; that with heaven
open before us, we should need to be reminded, "There is immortal glory,
look at it!" And yet after all, should feel that we are so preoccupied and
engaged with earthly trifles, that we have no time to survey the wondrous
scene!
Dwell much upon the
nearness of heaven.
What is remote has less power over the thoughts than that which is near at
hand. How near is all this glory to your soul! Nothing separates you from
it, but the thin partition of flesh and blood—a moment of time, a point of
space, may be all that intervenes between you and immortality! When you lie
down to rest any night—you know not but that you may be in heaven before the
next morning! When you rise up in the morning—you know not but that you may
be in heaven before night! If you are true Christians, you are ever in the
'vestibule of the heavenly temple', waiting for the opening of the door, to
be admitted to the holy of holies! The heirs of glory are every moment going
in to be forever with the Lord, and you will soon go with them. Heaven is
ever as near to you as God is—for it is the enjoyment of his presence, and
he compasses you about on every side. At any given moment of your existence,
you know not but that the next may be the commencement of your eternal
career of holiness, knowledge, and happiness. Did you realize the
nearness of heaven, how
would it tend to keep up the frame of mind I am so anxious to promote.
As heaven consists of enjoying the divine presence, and
of holiness and love, together with the joy arising from them—let us
seek more intimate communion with
God now, and labor after more purity, more benevolence, more
spiritual peace. This would make us think of heaven, and long for it—when we
had these, its first fruits—in our soul now. We cannot go up into heaven,
without heaven first coming down into us! Holiness in the soul of man is a
part of heaven, and the 'greater heaven above' will put forth an attraction
to draw up to itself this 'lesser heaven below'. Fire ascends to the sun;
rivers run to the ocean; matter gravitates to its center—so holiness in the
soul aspires to heaven, to which it belongs.
And withal you must be much in private, earnest, and
believing prayer for the supply of the
Holy Spirit. Who is sufficient for these things, but he whose
sufficiency is of God the Spirit? To make the future predominate over the
present; the invisible over the visible; the immaterial over the material;
and heaven over earth—is an achievement of faith, to which he only is equal,
who is taught and helped of God. "He who has wrought us for this self-same
thing," says the apostle, "is God, who also has given unto us the earnest of
the Spirit." 2 Cor. 5:5.
Believers in Christ Jesus! Children of God! Heirs of
immortal glory! traveler to Zion! Possessors of eternal life! Look not at
the things which are seen and temporal, but at the things which are unseen
and eternal. Think of what is before you in the world to which you are
going! Let your character and your destiny be in harmony. Born
from heaven, and bound to it, let your thoughts and affections be in heaven!
"We are citizens of heaven, where the Lord Jesus Christ lives. And we are
eagerly waiting for him to return as our Savior. He will transform our lowly
bodies so that they will be like his glorious body!"
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