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TOPIC: MacDuff, John - Words of Jesus (Other Topics in this Collection)
SUBJECT: 29. The Many Mansions
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THE MANY MANSIONS
"IN MY FATHER'S HOUSE ARE MANY MANSIONS." —John 14:2
What a 'home aspect' there is in this "word of Jesus!" He comforts His Church by telling those who soon their wilderness wanderings will be finished—the tented tabernacle suited to their present probation-state exchanged for the enduring "mansion!" Nor will it be any strange dwelling—a Father's home—a Father's welcome awaits them. There will be accommodation for all. Thousands have already entered its shining gates—patriarchs, prophets, saints, martyrs, young and old, and still there is room!
The pilgrim's motto on earth is, "Here we have no continuing city." Even "Sabbath tents" must be taken down. Holy seasons of communion must terminate. "Arise, let us go from here!" is a summons which disturbs the sweetest moments of tranquility in the Church below. But in Heaven, every believer becomes a pillar in the temple of God, and "he shall go no more out." Here on earth, it is but the lodging of a wayfarer turning aside to tarry for the brief night. Here we are but temporary tenants— our possessions are but moveables—ours today, gone tomorrow. But these many "mansions" are an incorruptible and unfading inheritance. Nothing can touch the heavenly inheritance. Once within the Father's house, and we are in the house forever!
Think, too, of Jesus, gone to prepare these mansions— "I go to prepare a place for you." What a wondrous thought—Jesus now busied in Heaven in His Church's behalf! He can find no abode in all His wide dominions, befitting as a permanent dwelling for His ransomed ones. He says, "I will make a new heavens and a new earth. I will found a special kingdom—I will rear eternal mansions expressly for those I have redeemed with my blood!"
Reader, let the prospect of a dwelling in this "house of the Lord forever," reconcile you to any of the roughnesses or difficulties in your present path—to your pilgrim provision and pilgrim fare. Let the distant beacon light, that so cheeringly speaks of a Home brighter and better far than the happiest of earthly ones, lead you to forget the intervening billows, or to think of them only as wafting you nearer and nearer to your desired haven! "Would," says a saint, who has now entered on his rest, "that one could read, and write, and pray, and eat and drink, and compose one's self to sleep, as with the thought—soon to be in heaven, and that forever and ever!"
"My Father's house!" How many a departing spirit has been cheered and consoled by the sight of these glorious Mansions looming through the mists of the dark valley—the tears of weeping friends rebuked by the gentle chiding—"If you loved me, you would rejoice, because I said, I go unto my Father!" Death truly is but the entrance to this our Father's house. We speak of the "shadow of death"—it is only the shadow which falls on the portico as we stand for a moment knocking at the longed-for gate. Then next—a Father's voice of welcome is heard—"Son! you are always to be with me, and all that I have is yours."