The heart, if I may so express it, enters heaven when it listens in faith to the story or tale of grace.
The work and fruit of grace is all our title to heaven itself by and by. The story or tale of grace, listened to by faith is all our way, and our only way, into heaven in spirit now.
The self-judgings of the holy principle, and the doings and obedience of the righteous principle, in us, are good and needful; but it is not the property of such things to lead us to, and seat us in heaven. It is the silent attitude of faith listening to the story of the grace of God, that constitutes the present heaven of the soul.
We have some illustrations of this silent listening of faith, while grace is rehearsing or exercising itself, given us in Scripture.
Look at Genesis 3 The Lord. God speaks to Adam, among the trees of the garden, of present penalties on him and his wife; but in His words to the serpent, he lets fall on Adam’s ear the tale of grace, which told him that the charm of the serpent’s promise should he broken; that instead of alliance between the deceiver and deceived, there should be enmity; and that in that enmity the one who stood for the deceived (God’s gift also) should at all personal cost be fully and gloriously the conqueror.
To this tale of gospel grace Adam listens, listens in silence. There is nothing else for him. But through the Spirit, this so works on his soul, that he comes forth from his distance into God’s presence; and his heart is so filled with the tale of grace, and with that only, that he seems altogether to forget the present penalty. He comes forth, calling his wife “the mother of all living,” thus owning the mystery which had been revealed to him, and that only. This is full of blessing. This is a beautiful illustration of the virtue that lies in a believing, silent listening to the tale or story of grace. Adam was borne in spirit, not only away from that distance into which sin and guilt and conscience had driven him, but beyond the fear or thought of present sorrow, to which his history in the world was about to expose him. He was as at the gate of heaven in spirit. Look again at Zechariah 3.
Joshua is before the angel of the Lord, and Joshua’s accuser or adversary is there also. Joshua appears in all defilement and degradation. The tattered garments of a prodigal but poorly hide his shame and nakedness—nay, they rather witness it and publish it; he has nothing to say for himself, and his only wisdom is not to attempt or affect anything; he is deeply and thoroughly silent. But there is One in the scene who can speak, and does speak, and Joshua listens. And what does the listening Joshua hear? What tale falls on the ear of this polluted one, whose very pollutions make him dumb? The same precious story of grace. For Joshua (in his filthy garments) hears the Lord himself—none other or less than He—rebuking his accuser. He hears the same Lord humbling him as a brand fitted for the burning, no better than a vessel of wrath fitted to destruction; but he hears at the same time that he was chosen, and that all the provisions of the house of the Lord were to be used for him, and the servants of the house commanded to be active and stir themselves for him.
This was the tale of grace, which the silent, listening sinner hears. And what a gate of heaven that moment was to him! To Joshua, in spirit, heaven had now opened itself, and he enters and sits there.
Look at the same heaven opened again in Luke 15.
The earth had shown itself a scene of thorough weariness and disappointment to the heart and mind of Christ, as we see in chapter 14.
It was not because it was the place of either violence and fraud, of either lion or serpent. The varied moral scenery of chapter 14 had been laid in the religion and in the social friendliness of the human family. Nothing coarse or repulsive had marked it—no blood had stained it, or guile of the serpent disfigured it. But the heart of Christ takes its journey through it all, grieved, wearied, and disappointed, and nothing gives Him rest or refreshment, till sinners and publicans come and hear him (15:1). Oh, the blessedness of such an attitude and moment both to Him and to us! There it is that we (and the Spirit of Jesus wearied with man) gain the bright heaven of God. Jesus left the Pharisees’ feast and the company of an admiring, following multitude, and now found Himself listened to by sinners, not followed by a crowd that had miscalculated their strength to be on such a road, but listened to by poor harlots and publicans, who had nothing to give, nothing to promise, nothing to undertake or pledge for themselves, but who came only for what they could get from Christ’s stores of boundless grace, and therefore heaven opens itself—and the parables which listening faith is invited to hear tell of heaven’s joy over listening sinners.
As a simple soul, soon after the word of grace had quickened it with the life of Christ, breathed out—
“Tis not for what I give Him;
It is when I believe Him,
I feel this love, and hear Him
Bid me be happy near Him.”
When the Lord had read from the 61st of Isaiah, that wonderful Scripture which publishes the riches of goodness or grace, He closed the book (see Luke 4)
This action was full of meaning, and of comfort too. It tells us, that when Jesus had caused us to hear the tale or story of grace, He had discharged His ministry. And that story (if listened to and received by faith) would be everything to us; and, in a fine sense, we might close the book, as Jesus did; we might pause, and muse, and meditate, and again and again turn in our minds this one happy, powerful, elevating tale of grace.
It would work liberty, and joy, and confidence, and real gospel sanctification for us and in us (through the Spirit), as it has done in thousands of sinners like us. But as this tale of grace is listened to in silence, so it is to be listened to in solitude. We are not only to listen while God Himself rehearses it to us in the gospel, but we are to be there alone with Him, apart from our fellow-creatures. It is to be between God and our own souls; we are not to think of others at all. It would disturb the soul in such a sacred moment. For the thought of others might ensnare us; we might remember their excellency and strength beyond our measure, and be led to fear and to unbelief. Therefore, as we are to be silent before God, thus speaking in grace, so are we to be alone with Him; that is, our fellow creatures, as well as ourselves, are to be set aside; for God is to be to us everything when the question of our peace is to be transacted.
J. G. B.