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Read the scripture, not only as an history, but as a love-letter sent to you from God which may affect your hearts. -- Thomas Watson, A Body of Practical Divinity, p. 27
Considering he was blind, the word-pictures painted by William Henry Fentress (1851-1880) are all the more remarkable. In one sermon from his volume Love Truths From the Bible (1879), he speaks of the ocean with tremendous insight into matters temporal and spiritual. The sermon is “No Sea in Heaven” (based on Rev. 21:1: “and there was no more sea”) and the extracts which follow are intended to whet the appetite for all of his sermons.
Have you ever stood by the sea? have you ever had the sense of being lost in the contemplation of its wonders? have you ever seen, and heard, and realized what it has to reveal? if so, you have been admitted to one of the grandest privileges known to the lovers of nature. It seems impossible that even the careless should pass by the sea uninfluenced: there is so much to engage the attention; so much to compel interest; a very spell, a fascination in its presence. To the thoughtful it is most impressive; unfolding to consciousness mysteries of thought and sentiment that banish the common things of life; that produce an experience beyond language to define; that give, as it were, a new being, with other motives, other powers, other ambitions. These impressions come again when the sea is far away, as we fancy that the night heavens of the Orient recur to the traveller, who has once enjoyed their sublime magnificence; as the splendors of royalty haunt the mind of an exiled Napoleon; as the awful meeting of contending armies is recalled by the old veteran, when the war has long been over, and lie is resting with his little ones about him in his peaceful home.
The sky, the forests, the mountains, all have attractions peculiar to themselves; and so has the sea. Behold the giant waves, crimsoned with sunbeams! or silvered by the light of the moon! how majestically they rise and fall ! Now raging under the lash of the storm demon, now moving in calm with long measured roll, they seem impatient of restraint, as if possessed by a spirit of life; as if some mighty force were rocking the cradle of the deep. Hear the rush of waters, the waves struggling and dying on the sands, the deep thunder of the breakers on the shore! and strangely with the deafening tumult mingle the wild shriek of the seagull and the soft note of the curlew. For miles inland upon the hush of night comes the monotone of the ocean. It is as the sound of a distant, heavy-rolling train. It is an unbroken anthem of praise to the great Creator. The beach is strewn with shells of every size, and shape, and color. Have you never kneeled upon the hard, white sand to gather these bright offerings washed up by the surf? and when a larger one was found, have listened with a child's delight to the whisper of some far off sea, laving the shores of some distant isle, or continent? These shells are nature's beautiful playthings, adorning the frame-work, in which she has placed the master-piece of her art. What a setting! what a picture! commanding the admiration not only of earth, for the hosts of heaven delight to mirror themselves in the boundless, blue expanse.
Fentress continues to expound upon the vast expanse of the ocean and its deepest depths which harbor shipwrecks, treasures, animals, caves and more, culminating in this cry: “O sea! Not only man, but thou also art wonderfully and fearfully made.”
It is thus evident, that the sea is not the source of a perfect joy. Far from it! It has features, occasions and associations which are productive of sadness and suffering. Has it beautiful shells and pearls? It has also loathesome weeds and reptiles. Has it fairy isles and safe harbors? It has also dangerous Scylla and Charybdis. Has it warm streams, that moderate climate and contribute to human comfort? It has also floating fields and mountains of ice, which are a terror to man. Do its waves appear fair and bright in the sunshine? When clouds gather and the wind spirit goes abroad, they are terrible to look upon. Is there majestic music in the roar of the surf? to the mariner whose vessel driven from its course, is hurrying toward the breakers, it is a knell of death. Does it bring to ns the treasures of India and other lands? alas! it sometimes bears away dear treasures of our hearts, and returns them no more. Hence, as we learn from our text, there will be no sea in heaven: for "God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes ; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away."
As beautiful as the sea is to behold, Fentress reminds us that its wide expanse separates divides continents and separates mariners from their loved ones; while in heaven, there is no separation between spirits, no division between members of Christ’s body. Though at times it may seem placidly calm, the sea is a place of change with its tides which ebb and flow, and its tempests which bring such violence and danger; whereas, in heaven, there is eternal rest from this life’s storms, and peace from the contrary gales which we all experience.
O mariners on the sea of life, seeking rest but finding none; make your reckoning with a view to eternity; take the Bible as your chart; hold your course straight for the Star of Bethlehem; and in the fiercest storm, through the darkest night keep a brave heart, relying upon God: and though the voyage be long, and wearying, and beset with difficulties and trials, peace will be reached at last.
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There will be noble strivings in heaven. The spirits of just men made perfect, will vie with each other in obedience, love and consecration to Him who loved them; who washed them from their sins in His own precious blood; who made them Kings and Priests unto God. The law of progress will demand ambition, increase, change: ambition to be holy, as God is holy; increase in grace and knowledge of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ; and change by advancing in the divine image: but there will be no sea in heaven; that is, no restlessness, no discontent with what you are, and have. For earth, with all its petty cares, its fevered dreams, its nameless longings, its unsatisfying pleasures, will have passed away; the realties of the life in God, will bring to the troubled heart profound calm; the Prince of peace will give His own peace to the weary soul, and not a wave of care will ever disturb the deep serenity of that life in the bright Forever.
Our speaker puts his finger on that which troubles the mind and heart of many believers in this life: fear. And death.
Now in human affairs the possible, more than the actual, is the cause of distress. Life's fabric takes its sombre colors, more from what may be than what is. In other words, fear is the main, disturbing element to human peace: but in heaven there will be nothing of this. There, doubt, uncertainty, danger, and threatenings of misfortune will have no place. We shall know, even as we are known; we shall love, even as we are loved: and perfect knowledge and perfect love will cast out all fear. O the trust and confidence and security that will be the heritage of God's children, when gathered home; when folded at last in the Father's embrace! No sea in heaven; that is, no fear.
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But is it not written, that "the sea shall give up the dead that are in it, and that Death and Hell shall be cast into the lake of fire?'' In heaven therefore, the daughters of music will not be brought low: nor desire fail because man goeth to his long home: nor mourners go about the streets: nor the silver cord be loosed: nor the golden bowl be broken: nor the pitcher broken at the fountain: nor the wheel broken at the cistern. There, there will be no gathering of friends at the bed-side, to be crushed with anguish at the departure of one beloved: no struggling for breath, then a marble coldness: no damp wiped from the brow; no eyes closed by the hands of another. There will be no tolling of bells; no procession in black; no speaking of the words, "dust to dust." There will be no turning away, to leave a father, a mother, a brother, a sister, a husband, a wife, a child, or a dear friend to solitude and night; no going back to the house with the awful feeling, that we have no more a home; no strewing of flowers on fresh, green mounds. Thank God! there will be no church-yards in heaven. No sea in heaven; that is, no death.
Those who gaze out at the horizon may with difficulty at times discern where the sea ends and heaven begins. But those with spiritual sight are taught here to look up to the center of heaven where our Chief Pilot, who commands the winds and the waves, will navigate us home.
Jesus brought life and immortality to light through the gospel. He has gone to prepare a place, to make ready the many mansions, that where He is, His disciples may be also. Yes, to Jesus, and Jesus only do we owe our sweet hope of heaven. Heaven, that golden clime far beyond life's troubled ocean! Heaven, on whose blissful shores no waves ever break! Heaven, that land of love and loveliness! Heaven, that paradise home, where the pure in heart are joined forever! You and I have loved ones already there. We parted from them, as from our very life. The world has never seemed so fair and bright since they went away. Are we seeking for re-union in that better country? Let us then be sure to take the homeward way. Let us run with patience the race set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith. Let us fight the good fight of faith, and sing the victor's song. Let us go forth, and accomplish the voyage, marked out for us on the sea of life: not as the disciple who began to sink because of unbelief; but with unwavering trust in God, that He will not let the waves and the billows go over us; that He will direct our course aright; that He will be our guide and refuge to the last: and be assured, He will then receive us to that haven of rest, where the sorrows of the sea are no more.
