Now, if we gather together all these various uses of the word, there emerge two broad ideas, that the ‘crown’ which is the Christian’s aim symbolises a state of triumphant repose and of festal enjoyment.  There are other aspects of that great and dim future which correspond to other necessities of our nature, and I suppose some harm has been done and some misconceptions have been induced, and some unreality imported into the idea of the Christian future, by the too exclusive prominence given to these two ideas—­victorious rest after the struggle, and abundant satisfaction of all desires.  That future is other and more than a festival; it is other and more than repose.  There are larger fields there for the operation of powers that have been trained and evolved here.  The faithfulness of the steward is exchanged, according to Christ’s great words, for the authority of the ruler over many cities.  But still, do we not all know enough of the worry and turbulence and strained effort of the conflict here below, to feel that to some of our deepest and not ignoble needs and desires that image appeals?  The helmet that pressed upon the brow even whilst it protected the brain, and wore away the hair even whilst it was a defence, is lifted off, and on unruffled locks the garland is intertwined that speaks victory and befits a festival.  One of the old prophets puts the same metaphor in words imperfectly represented by the English translation, when he promises ‘a crown’ or a garland ’for ashes’—­instead of the symbol of mourning, strewed grey and gritty upon the dishevelled hair of the weepers, flowers twined into a wreath—­’the oil of joy for mourning,’ and the festival ‘garment of praise’ to dress the once heavy spirit.  So the satisfaction of all desires, the accompaniments of a feast, in abundance, rejoicing and companionship, and conclusive conquest over all foes, are promised us in this great symbol.

But let us look at the passages separately, and we shall find that they present the one thought with differences, and that if we combine these, as in a stereoscope, the picture gains solidity.

The crown is described in three ways.  It is the crown of ‘life,’ of ‘glory’ and of ‘righteousness.’  And I venture to think that these three epithets describe the material, so to speak, of which the wreath is composed.  The everlasting flower of life, the radiant blossoms of glory, the white flower of righteousness; these are its components.

I need not enlarge upon them, nor will your time allow that I should.  Here we have the promise of life, that fuller life which men want, ‘the life of which our veins are scant,’ even in the fullest tide and heyday of earthly existence.  The promise sets that future over against the present, as if then first should men know what it means to live:  so buoyant, elastic, unwearied shall be their energies, so manifold the new outlets for activity, and the new inlets for the surrounding glory and beauty; so incorruptible and glorious shall be their new being.  Here we live a living death; there we shall live indeed; and that will be the crown, not only in regard to physical, but in regard to spiritual, powers and consciousness.