it may be, but alive in a strange country. He
feels that he is about to pass into a state of being
in which he will find his finer interests not lost
but intensified. At the center of his religious
expression is a personal love of Jesus and a martyr’s
death would mean immediate admission to the presence
and love of His Master. He would—of
this he had no shadow of doubt—he would
see Jesus, not the spirit of Jesus, but the Jesus
Who is God Incarnate, whose earthly life he had gone
over so many times, Whom he felt that he should recognise
at once. Death was not the breaking off of all
in which he was interested but was rather the fulfilment
of all that he had dreamed. And this must be true
always where our interests are truly Christian interests.
It is no doubt true that we find in Christian congregations
a large number of individuals whose attitude toward
death and the future is purely heathen. They
believe in survival, but they have no vital interest
in it. I fancy that there are a good many people
who would experience relief to be persuaded that death
is the end of conscious existence, that they do not
have to look forward to a continuous life under other
conditions. And this not at all, as no doubt
it would in some cases be, because it was the lifting
of the weighty burden of responsibility for the sort
of life one leads, because it was relief from the
thought of a judgment to be one day faced, but because
the world to come, as they have grasped its meaning,
is a world in which they have no sort of interest.
Our Lord in His Presentation of the future does actually
point us to the natural human interest by which our
affection will follow that which we do in fact value.
“Where your treasure is, there will your heart
be also.” But the class of whom I am thinking
have no treasures. Notwithstanding some sort
of conformity to the Christian Religion, conceived
most likely under the aspect of a compulsory moral
code, there is nothing in their experience that one
can call a love of our Lord, no actually felt personal
affection for Him that makes them long to see Him.
There were those with whom they had intimately lived
and whom they had loved and who have passed through
the experience of death, but in the years that have
passed they have become used to living without them
and there is no passionate longing to be with them
again. There are no interests in their lives
which when they think of them they feel that they can
carry with them to the world beyond. Whatever
they have succeeded in accumulating in life is hardly
to be regarded as heavenly treasure!
There then is the vital centre of the Christian doctrine of the world to come,—that it is a life continuous with this life, not in bare existence, but in the persistence of relations and interests upon which we have entered here. At the center of that world as it is revealed to us, is Jesus Christ, God in our nature, and about Him ever the saints of His Kingdom, who are still human with human interests,