All this being so, we may, in some measure, conceive of the feelings with which the souls in heaven anticipate the resurrection; and we cease to wonder why Paul speaks of his resurrection as the great object of his desire—­not merely to be in heaven, but, being in heaven, with Christ, to be in possession of a completed nature, like Christ’s.

From the grave where it was sown in corruption, it will come forth in incorruption; sown in dishonor, it will be raised in glory; sown in weakness, it will be raised in power; sown a natural body, it will be raised a spiritual body.  It was “bare grain” when it fell into the earth; but the corn, with its stalk, and leaves, and the curious ear, with its silk, and its wrappings, the multiplication of the “bare grain” into such a product, are an illustration of the apostle’s words,—­“Thou sowest not that body that shall be;” hence, he argues, say not, incredulously, “How are the dead raised, and with what body do they come?” God giveth the grain a body as it hath pleased him; he can do the same with regard to that part of man’s nature which is committed for a while to the earth.  Let not the natural difficulties connected with this subject make us sceptical.  There are no more difficulties connected with a grave than with a grape vine.  Those distant twigs, on that dry vine, begin to bud and blossom; grapes form upon them; it is filled with clusters.  Is there any thing in the resurrection more strange than this?  Twice, inspiration says to a man, “Thou fool!”—­once, to a godless, rich man, and, once, to him who is sceptical about the resurrection of the body.

When the glorified spirit and the glorified body meet, the moment when the investiture of the soul with its spiritual form takes place, and the forcible divorce of the soul and body is terminated by new, strange nuptials, there must be an experience which now defies all power of imagination.  We may have known, in this world, all the thrilling experiences of which our natures here are capable; we shall also have seen and felt what it is to awake in heaven, satisfied with Christ’s likeness; and all the new-born joys of heavenly sensations will have seemed to leave us nothing to be experienced which can bring a new rapture to the heart; yet when the body is raised, and the triumphant spirit comes to put it on afresh, it will be an addition to all the past joys of the heavenly state.  As we look on one another, and see, in each other’s beauty and glory, an image of our own; as we remember how we visited the graves of loved ones, and what thoughts and feelings we had there, and then see those graves yielding forms like Christ’s; as we see the Saviour’s person mirrored in ours on every side, and behold the living changed in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, there will be an exceeding great joy, such, perhaps, as the universe had never before known.  But to each of us the most perfect joy will be his own consciousness, existence being then a rapture such as we never experienced.  Then the bird is winged, the jewel is set in gold, the flower blooms, the harp receives all her strings, the heir is crowned.  No wonder that Paul said, looking through and beyond heaven, “If by any means I might attain unto the resurrection of the dead.”