Here have we no continuing city
An ever-changing scene:
These words sum up what was certainly the apostolic mind as to the position of Christians in the world.
They were members, as we are, of a vast and complex association which we call human society; but, with all its great attributes, it wants permanence. The world passes away as we work and speak. “Here we have no continuing city.” We have, indeed, a city; we have a wonderful and beneficent citizenship; we could not live without it; we owe it debts beyond repayment, duties of the most sacred kind; but society is with us and about us to-day, and to-morrow we and it are to be so much farther on in our round of successive changes, by which it becomes something quite different from what it is now, something, perhaps, which now we cannot imagine, and we disappear from life and from the visible world. But though “here we have no continuing city,” we do “seek one to come.” Born amid change, knowing nothing by experience but change, the human heart yet obstinately clings to its longing for the unchangeable and eternal. Christian souls not only long for it, but look for it. We seek that which is to come--seek it, believing that we shall one day reach it. We do not need Scripture to teach us that “we have no continuing city,” that “the fashion of this world passeth away,” that “nothing continueth in one stay.” But only Scripture can teach us to seek with hope for that which is to come. I need not remind you how, throughout the Psalms, we meet the impressive recognition of this aspect of life and of the world. They are full of the presence, of the greatness, of the eventfulness Of change--change going on for good and evil, for joy and sorrow, in Outward circumstances, in the inward life--changes visible, material, political, moral, and vicissitudes in the fortunes of men and nations; and there are recorded the most rapid alternations and successions of feeling in the soul within, in its outlook towards God and things outside it. The idea of the sovereignty of God is the counterpart throughout the Psalms set over against all that is unsatisfying, disastrous, transitory, untrustworthy, not only in man’s condition, but in the best that be can do. The psalmists realised that they had “no continuing city” in a way that is far beyond our experience. They knew a state of society which could rely on nothing settled. It was liable at any moment to be tormented by insolent and lawless wickedness, to be shaken to its foundations by the fever and passion of false religions, to be crushed down into utter ruin by some alien conqueror. They believed that they were the people of God; they believed that they had His promises; and yet what they saw was these promises still unfulfilled, recalled, apparently passing away to nothingness; they, the people of God’s holiness, saw in the midst of them, trampling on all light and purity, the bloodthirsty and deceitful man; they, the elect of the Lord of Hosts, saw the enemy master among the ruins of God’s holy place, and for generation after generation felt themselves the slaves and spoil of the heathen. What wonder, then, that the voice of grief and humiliation sounds with such tragic repetition in the Book of Psalms? “Hath God indeed forgotten to be gracious, and wilt He shut up His loving-kindness in displeasure?” But what is the other side of all this? It is that perhaps with one, and that only an apparent exception, the voice of unalloyed and uncomforted despair is never heard there. At the very moment that the heart is rent with shame and agony comes the remembrance of the Eternal King of Mercy and Righteousness, whose kingdom endured from end to end, while empires rose and fell, and whose ear heard with equal certainty the cry of the poor, and the blasphemer, and the cruel. In spite of the daily evidence of experience, the wicked “flourishing like a green bay-tree,” the power of the oppressor, the mocking tongue of the blasphemer--in spite of all, the foundations stand sure and unshaken by any accidents of mortal condition. “Thou art set in the throne that judgest right.” “The Lord shall endure for ever; He hath also prepared His seat for judgment.” “The Lord also will be a defence for the oppressed,” &c. And so with the transitoriness of the lives and generations of men. Nowhere is a keener sense shown of it than in the Psalms. “For man walketh in a vain shadow, and disquieteth himself in vain.” “As soon as Thou scatterest them they are even as a sleep, and fade away suddenly like the grass.” “For, when Thou art angry, all our days are gone; we bring our years to an end as a tale that is told.” What is there to comfort and compensate for this dreary prospect? Nothing but unlimited trust in God’s power and goodness and ever-watchful care. “My days have gone like a shadow, and I am withered like grass.” There is the consciousness which must come to all men sooner or later--a consciousness in the Psalmist’s case that these great changes in his lot were not undeserved by a sinner. “And that because of Thy indignation and wrath; for Thou hast taken me up, and cast me down.” The great revelation of forgiveness and immortality was yet to come, but the Psalmist’s faith in the Eternal King of the world never wavered. “The days of man are bat as grass, for lie flourisheth as a flower of the field. For as soon,” etc. “But the merciful goodness,” &c. “When the breath of man goeth forth,” &c. The waste, the throwing away of human souls, of human affection--is there anything more strangely perplexing in the ruin of death? But the answer is at hand: “Blessed is he that hath the God of Jacob for his help,” &c. Men died and were buried, and their children after them; they knew that they must die and be as though they had never been. They walked like shadows in the midst of shadows. They felt to the full the shortness of life, how soon it was over, how awful its inevitable changes; yet they did not faint. They knew that over them was the ever-continuous rule of Him who made heaven and earth and all things. They doubted not that He “keepeth His promise for ever”; and so, with change and mortality in them and around them, written on the solid earth and on the distant heaven, they broke into the exulting song (Psalms 102:25-28): “Here we have no continuing city”; but we know, with a distinctness which all men have not, of the city that hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God. But where is that passionate, delighted, triumphant faith of those men of old? What have we got of their joy and gladness at the very thought of God? (Dean Church.)
Mutability of man’s present condition
I. HERE WE HAVE NO CONTINUING CITY.
1. We may be said to have here no continuing city, by reason of the changes to which our circumstances are liable.
2. The same truth will appear evident if we consider the dissatisfaction with which every condition in life is attended.
3. The truth of the apostle’s declaration will appear still more manifest when we consider the change to which we ourselves are liable. Every step that we take, while it may bring us nearer to some object of pursuit, at the same time brings us nearer to that misty ocean upon which we must all embark, and bid adieu to all upon its shore.
II. BUT WE SEEK ONE TO COME.
1. This presupposes, on the part of Christians, an idea of the existence of another city yet to be discovered.
2. The language of the apostle implies not only a conviction of the existence of heaven, but of its excellence, its decided superiority to the place of man’s present habitation.
3. The language here employed implies a belief that this city may be gained.
4. It implies, more particularly, that Christians have abandoned the world.
5. It implies an actual entrance upon the way to heaven by an engagement in Christian duty. (James Clason.)
The final home of the Christian not on earth, but in heaven
I. MAN HAS NO PERMANENT HOME ON EARTH.
1. The inconstancy of human life.
2. The inevitable event of death.
3. The doom which awaits the earth.
II. THE PERMANENT HOME OF THE CHRISTIAN IS IN HEAVEN.
1. Heaven is a place.
2. Heaven is a permanent place.
3. Heaven is sure to the faithful believer.
III. To ATTAIN HEAVEN IS THE CHRISTIAN’S SUPREME CONCERN.
1. Heaven is secured to the believer conditionally.
2. That condition must be fulfilled on earth.
3. Its fulfilment requires the vigorous application of the whole mind.
4. The hope of heaven inspires Christian courage. (Homilist.)
Men sojourners upon earth
I. No sooner are we capable of looking round us, and considering the frame of our nature, and the condition of our being, than we may observe THAT, DERIVED FROM DUST, WE NATURALLY HASTEN TO DUST AGAIN; that none can claim the privilege of an exemption from the common necessity; that the human, like the vegetable race, have their periods of growth and declension, and are either cut down by the hand of violence, or soon fade and drop of themselves. Strangers and sojourners here, as were all our fathers, we soon pass away, and are gone.
II. I proceed to deduce SOME REFLECTIONS AND INFERENCES FROM THE SHORT DURATION AND TRANSITORY: CONDITION OF HUMAN LIFE.
1. Melancholy indeed would be the reflection that we pass away as a shadow if this life were the whole of our existence, and we had no hope beyond it, But, setting aside other considerations, the short term of our existence here may give us grounds to hope that it will be renewed and prolonged hereafter. For can we think that man was not designed by his Maker to attain that perfection in wisdom, and virtue, and happiness of which his nature is susceptive?
2. Meditation on our short and uncertain state in this world may wean us from an over-fondness for anything in it.
3. The consideration of the shortness of life may assist us in supporting us under its afflictions.
4. If the time of our sojourning in this world be but short, let the great and habitual object of our attention be that state which may soon begin but can never end. If “we have here no continuing city, let us seek one to come.” (G. CarT, B. A.)
Present change and future continuance:
Changeableness is one characteristic of all that is earthly. What is history? Largely the record of a succession of vapours which have appeared for a little time, and then have vanished away. What is philosophy but knowledge of the rise and progress, the extent and duration of shadows? What is poetry but the expression of the deep emotions awakened by earthly vicissitudes? And what is this world as we now all see it but a system of globes having a double revolution? Nothing abides in the same place, or exhibits two days together the same aspect. Changeableness is one feature of all that is earthly; human nature being no exception. Personally, relatively, in body, in spirit, within, without, there is no continuance. Some of the changes to which men are subject are manifestly good in themselves, good in all respects, and in the case of those who love God, and who are the called according to His purpose, all things work together for good. “Here have we no continuing city.” In what position are we left? Are we never to have continuance? Yes, we are to look upon things abiding, for while “here we have no continuing city, we,” Christians, “seek one to come.”
I. Look at THIS CHANGEABLENESS HERE FELT AND ACKNOWLEDGED. “Here have we no continuing city.” This seems discordant with the closing verse of the former chapter, where it is said--“We receiving a kingdom which cannot be moved, let us have grace whereby we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear.” But you remember, that kingdom is within us; and that kingdom is continued. The apostle is speaking in the text rather of that which is outside of us. Here, too, have we no fixed temporal condition. The rich often become poor; the elevated are brought low; and the men of many friends are made desolate. Here, too, have we no ultimate stage of existence. We begin with babyhood, rise into childhood, and oh, how soon do we get through manhood! And here have we no permanent visible Church. The persons constituting the Churches of Christ die; the members of particular congregations change; they pass from one community to another; and our Church forms and modes alter. Here, too, have we no fixed and unalterable demand upon our resources and powers. Duties and responsibilities, they all vary. Here, too, have we no fixed state of the emotions. To-day we are in joy; to-morrow in sorrow. Here, too, have we not the consummation of redemption. There are some things in our salvation now complete. Our pardon is complete; our justification is complete; but the inner salvation is being wrought out. There is no continuance in the experience of a true Christian. Here, too, have we not the everlasting Jerusalem. So that we may say, looking at all these facts, “Here have we no continuing city.”
II. WE CHRISTIANS SEEK ONE TO COME. We desire that which is unchangeable, and we seek it. “One to come”--a higher and a settled dwelling-place--a final home. It is love that makes a home. To love, and to be loved, though it be in the peasant’s cot, is to be at home; and often you find homes in the rudest dwellings, and none in the most splendid palaces. But where love is likely to be disturbed--where some rude hand can take the threads that love is ever spinning and tying and fastening, and cut them and sever them, the home feeling must of course be partial. And we long for a place and a state where we shall abide eternally in the presence of those who love us. “We seek one to come.” A higher and a settled dwelling-place, a final home, a permanent state of being--not a stereotyped state of being, but still a permanent state of being, as distinguished from a mere probational state. And we long for, we seek a permanent state of being, and an undisturbed condition. Society, for example, just to take two or three illustrations--society without interruption or separation. Now, as soon as we know one another, we are taken away from each other. Occupation pursued for ever. The man who looks at this world as he should look at it almost trembles to undertake anything great or anything grand. But think of immortality as the day of your work. What broad foundations of enterprises may you lay, when you shall feel that you have the “for-ever” before you in which to execute those enterprises! “One to come”--not only occupations to be pursued for ever, but pleasure to be enjoyed for ever, and honours to be worn for ever, and worship to be continued for ever, and communion to be unbroken for ever, and the Church to be glorious and perfect for ever. Now, we Christians desire this for comfort’s sake, for progress’ sake, and above all for righteousness’ sake. Acknowledge, then, that “here have we no continuing city”; acknowledge it. Acknowledge it by expecting change. Do not busy yourself in trying to fix permanently all the arrangements of your households, and to say, as I sometimes hear some of you say, and hear you say occasionally with trembling, “Now we are settled.” Settled? Settled this side of the grave? Settled--where change is the very law of life? Settled? Oh, never say with the spirit that we are now condemning, “Now we are settled.” When God requires you to make changes, make them, and be ready for them, and then they will not hurt you. “Here have we no continuing city.” Acknowledge this fully and cordially. Then “ seek one to come”--by union with Jesus Christ, and by spiritual preparedness. There is a city to come--a collection of the saved children of Adam in one place--a holy place, a city. It is beautiful for situation, like Jerusalem of old,but built upon everlasting hills which shall never bow, and upon mountains which shall never be moved. It is a holy city, into which shall not enter anything that defileth or worketh abomination, or maketh a lie. (S. Martin.)
No continuing city here
I. THE AFFECTING VIEW WHICH THE TEXT PRESENTS OF THE PRESENT WORLD.
1. Our earthly possessions do not continue.
(1) Our life--the chief of them--is not permanent. “We know not what a day may bring forth.”
(2) Our connections are not permanent. We may flatter ourselves in the hope that they will remain, and avail us, all along the journey of life; that we shall never want a relative to feel an identity of interests with us; but, probably, amidst all these self-gratulations, events may arise to dissolve our pleasing reverie, and to compel us to mourn over lost relations, never to be regained.
(3) Our health, property, respectability, do not always continue. What reverses of this kind does the page of history record! We read of constitutions broken, estates lost, fortunes ruined--of thrones subverted.
2. Our opportunities do not continue. There is a tide in our affairs, both temporal and spiritual.
3. Our religious peace and joy do not continue. There are disturbing forces in the kingdom of grace, as well as in that of nature: there are alternations in the affections of the soul, as well as in the seasons and the elements; and it would be strange if our minds were liable to no fluctuations, since there are different states in the health of our bodies.
II. THE CONDUCT WHICH THE APOSTLE DESCRIBES IN REFERENCE TO ANOTHER WORLD--“but we seek one to come.”
1. Observe the figure under which the place of the future abode of godly persons is represented--it is a city. A city means a place of concourse, in which is intelligent and agreeable society; a place of protection, a place of entertainment, where there is much to delight the eye, the ear, the taste--a place of refinement, where the minds, and manners of the inhabitants are removed from what is coarse--a place of wealth and comfort, affording a confluence of the supplies and enjoyments of life.
2. This peerless place is yet to come. That is, it is yet to appear, to be enjoyed--it is future. Hannibal’s soldiers had no adequate idea of the
Italian plains, before they descried them from the Alpine heights. The Israelites must have had a very imperfect notion of the Land of Promise, before they had crossed the Jordan, and traversed its mountains and valleys, entered its cities, walked amongst its vineyards, and partook of its milk and honey. And our highest attainments of grace upon earth leave us painfully ignorant of the perfect realisations of glory which await us in heaven.
3. Real Christians are now seeking this city which is to come. Seeking it implies earnest desire, assiduous diligence, and progressive advancement. (J. Davies.)
No continuing city:
In Chili, where the ground is subject to frequent shocks of earthquake, the houses are built of lowly height and of unenduring structure; it is of little use to dig deep foundations, and pile up high walls, when the very earth is unstable; it would be foolish to build as for ages when the whole edifice may be in ruins in a week. Herein we read a lesson as to our worldly schemes and possessions; this poor fleeting world deserves not that we should build our hopes and joys upon it as though they could last us long. We must treat it as a treacherous soil, and build but lightly on it, and we shall be wise. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
A frail habitation:
Mr. Ruskin speaks in his “Love’s Meinie” of the “Little Crake, a bird which lays her eggs on an inartificially constructed platform of decayed leaves or stalks of marsh plants, slightly elevated above the water. How elevated I cannot find proper account, that is to say, whether it is hung to the stems of growing reeds, or built on hillocks of soil, but the bird is always liable to have its nest overflown by floods” (H. O.Mackey.)
We seek one to come
The abiding city of God’s people
I. I shall trace in these words THE OBJECT YEARNED AFTER BY EVERY MAN’S HEART, VIZ., A SETTLED AND SECURE CONDITION. Fully to enter into the beauty and force of this expression, it is necessary to imagine ourselves transported to a country exposed to the frequent devastation of war. Imagine yourselves in a land where the broken framework of the law cannot restrain each castle and town from pouring forth its band of marauding ruffians; or, suppose an enemy’s host landed and spreading fire and ruin far and wide--you will then partly estimate the desirableness of dwelling in “a continuing city.”
II. Therefore, secondly, GOD CONDESCENDS TO GIVE MAN A WARNING RESPECTING IT, drawing at one stroke a picture of this world, by saying that no such permanent security is to be found here--“here we have no continuing city.” Are riches secure? Your city has no bolts and bars to confine them. Friends, the nearest and dearest--what risk of their becoming estranged and chilled by misunderstanding. Earthquake, and hurricane, and plague, and war, are not necessary to brand instability on our comforts of this life. In the form of a slight cold Death lays its imperceptible touch upon the frame, and ere long comes to claim his own. Yet men will seek for these things, as if they were to endure, and will confide in their continuance to the last hour. It is necessary, then, that ye be warned by no less than the voice of God Himself, that “here ye have no continuing city.”
III. But, thirdly, GOD ASSURES US THAT THERE IS SUCH A STATE TO BE ATTAINED UNTO ELSEWHERE--there is “one to come.” The original is more explicit, for the existence of such a state is expressly affirmed. It is spoken of not as a hope, an imagination, like those which man sets before his own eyes, but as a reality. The true force of the expressions, “the one to come,” is, “the city that is to come.” Yes, revelation sets before us a place of security beyond the utmost dream of human hope--“a continuing city,” more complete than it hath entered into the heart of man to conceive, hath God prepared for them that love Him. It is figured forth as a city Hebrews 11:16): “God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He hath prepared for them a city.” It hath walls and gates: “Thou shalt call thy walls salvation, and thy gates praise.” It is set forth specially under the figure of the “holy city,” the New Jerusalem: “the city had no need of the sun, nor of the moon.” The majesty of God is security for the peace and safety of that place.
IV. But, fourthly, THE APOSTLE LETS FALL BY THE WAY A SHORT CHARACTERISTIC DESCRIPTION OF EVERY TRUE CHRISTIAN, VIZ., THAT HE IS A “SEEKER” OF THAT HEAVENLY CONDITION: “We seek one to come.” Recognise in this description that earnestness is an implied characteristic of the people of God. As an exile seeks his father’s land, or his native city, where the great majority of his kindred dwell, so the Christian soul feels towards heaven. He need not affect stoic indifference to the stations and duties on earth. St. Paul said, “I am of Tarsus in Cilicia, a citizen of no mean city.” But let earthly things clash with heavenly, and you will see where his heart is, that he is earnestly seeking his native city, into whose privileges he was new born, though at a distance, precisely as Paul was born into the privileges of Rome, though his native place was in Cilicia. The earnestness of a Christian will show itself in all he does; and in proportion as he is earnest, is the development of his Christianity. Another remark to which this characteristic description of a Christian gives rise, is an encouraging one to those Christians who, though earnest, are cast down. A Christian’s character is evidently that of an expectant, not a possessor. Ye are not yet come into the place which the Lord hath said He will give unto you. Be not therefore discouraged at being only an expectant of coming blessings. I would now fain bind this subject yet closer upon your individual hearts, by addressing three classes of persons. First, those that have suffered much from the mutability of earthly things; secondly, those that have been prosperous hitherto; and, thirdly, those that are entering on the trials of life. (G. Hebert, M. A.)
Only one Paradise for man
It is said that Mahomet approached Damascus, and when he stood to view the dazzling spectacle of that royal city, amid the beautiful plain, he turned aside and left the prospect, saying, “It is given to man to enjoy Paradise but once. If I possess Damascus I lose heaven.”