His Apostles after Him: it is the Day of Judgment.” [26]  S. Paul, therefore, when he says, “There is laid up for me the crown of righteousness which the Lord will give me on that day,” does not expect that crown until the Day of Judgment.

These are a few out of many like passages, all showing that heaven is not reached at death, but only after the Day of Judgment.  From all which it is clear that the Apostles had in their minds the firm assurance that there was to be a waiting time, how long they knew not, or how short they knew not, during which the spirit without the

body would dwell in expectation.  If it were otherwise, if at death the spirit passes into the light which no man can approach unto, into the Presence of God and beholds the Beatific Vision, which, as we saw, constitutes the consummation of happiness and perfection in heaven, I would ask, how it can be conceived that our Lord would have called Lazarus back from that supreme happiness, which eye hath never seen nor ear ever heard, nor heart of man ever conceived,—called him back to mingle in the griefs and sorrows, the pains and failures, the doubts and fears, the mists and confusions of this earthly life.  Was this the act of Him Who loved Lazarus?  Was there no other way of consoling the living sisters, than by so great a loss to the vanished brother?  Was it not to call him from life to death, rather than from death to life?

One more passage must be quoted, the force of which cannot well be missed.  In the sixth chapter of the Book of the Revelation,

S. John describes the vision which he saw at the opening of the fifth seal.  He saw, he said, “under the altar the souls of them that had been slain for the word of God,—and they cried with a great voice, saying, How long, O Master, the holy and true, dost Thou not judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth?—And it was said unto them, that they should rest yet for a little while, until their fellow-servants also and their brethren . . . should be fulfilled.” [28]  Plainly these souls were not in heaven, for they bemoaned the long delay, and were bidden to wait for awhile until some great fulfilment.  Where then could they be, if not on earth, nor yet in heaven?  They must have been in the Middle State between the two, these martyred souls, in Paradise.  But they are not spoken of as in Paradise, or in Abraham’s bosom, but as “under the Altar.”  Where was this?  The Jews spoke of departed souls

not only as in Paradise, and in Abraham’s bosom, but also as “under the throne of Glory.”  By all these expressions they meant the same thing.  S. John, however, uses a different expression in describing the Intermediate State, yet one so similar as to lead us to think that in the change he substitutes a Christian formula for the Jewish, giving it a Christian shape.  As “the throne of Glory” was associated with the Presence of God in the mind of a devout Jew, so the Altar would be as naturally associated with the Presence of God in the mind of a devout Christian.  What, therefore, the “Throne of God” was to the Jew, that “the Altar of God” would be to a Christian.  For the Altar was to Christian thought the Throne of God.  There, at the Christian Altar was commemorated the one great sacrifice to which all former sacrifices had pointed, and in which they were all fulfilled.  There the communion of Saints was, as in no other way on earth, realized.  There,

as by one simultaneous vibration thrilling through the saintly dead, and the living communicants, the spiritual bond unites together in one unbroken living Communion, those of the Church expectant who are departed in the true faith of Christ’s Holy Name, and those of us who are still striving in the Church militant on earth to perfect our probation.  These souls “under the Altar” were still waiting, and their waiting wearied them.  “How long?” they cried.  They were not in the flesh, their bodies had been slain.  They were absent from the body and present with the Lord, with Christ, as the crucified thief is still with Christ, in Paradise.

The consummation for them is yet to come.  They are waiting for it.  It is postponed.  God’s work on earth is yet uncompleted.  The number of the elect is not yet made up.  The Second Coming of Christ is yet delayed.  All things are not yet ready.  A little while longer must they wait, that they without us may not be made perfect.

III.

“To be carnally minded is death, but to be spiritually minded is life and peace.”—Rom. viii. 6.

So far we have examined the witness which the Bible affords in support of the truth that there is such a sphere as the Intermediate State, in which the spirit dwells alone, apart from the body, awaiting the Day of Judgment.  We have now to see what can be known as to the condition of the spirit in that disembodied state.  It is one thing to be assured on good grounds that there is such a life, and quite another thing to be assured what sort of life it is.  Can we fully understand what is meant by the life of the spiritual part of our being when it is separated from the body?  We cannot.  We cannot understand that of which we have had no experience.  In speaking, therefore, of the

disembodied spirit, we are speaking of that which we cannot explain.  Yet it does not in consequence follow that it is impossible to believe it to be.  For we are bound in reason to be assured of many things of which we can form no conception.  Reason compels us to be assured of the reality of space, of eternity, of the creation of the universe out of nothing, and, perhaps we may add, of the being of God; the being of God, I mean, considered apart from His nature and attributes.  Yet we cannot form any intelligent conception of these realities.  We cannot shape to our apprehension the faintest rational conception of the Personality of God, of His Omniscience, of His Omnipresence.  Yet we are able, and indeed are forced to believe, as Christians, in these attributes of His Nature, although we cannot comprehend them.

In the same sense, we can be reasonably sure that the spirit can still live after it has left the body, even though we are

unable to form to our minds any clear conception of the existence of the disembodied spirit.  We can do more.  On the assumption of the existence of the disembodied spirit, we are able, to some extent also, to reason upon the laws and limits of that separate and secluded life.

We are, no doubt, in so doing, dealing with a profoundly mysterious subject.  But it does not therefore follow that we are thereby really intruding