XIX.
HOUSES AND HOMES IN HEAVEN.
ONE of the definitions which a distinguished lexicographer has given of heaven, is, "the home of the blessed." And all good people, when they think of heaven, think of it as a Home,—their eternal home. When they look forward to the time of their decease, they think and speak of it as the time when they hope to be taken home. And when a righteous man closes his earthly pilgrimage, his neighbors say: "The good man has gone home." And they mean by this no more nor less than that he has gone to heaven.
Indeed, there is heavenly meaning and heavenly music in this monosyllable,—Home. There is meaning in it which the universal human mind perceives, and music which the universal human heart feels. Home is the hallowed spot to which our fondest affections cling; the centre of our strongest attachments, our sweetest remembrances, our brightest hopes, our purest joys. Everything dear to the heart of a good man, everything most serene and peaceful in life, everything pleasant or even tolerable in death, clusters around this word. The soldier in the camp, the sailor on the seas, the traveler in foreign lands,—how does his eye kindle and his pulse quicken at the bare mention of this word! As sings the poet:
"Who that in distant lands has chanced to roam,
Ne'er thrilled with pleasure at the name of home?"
Yes: Among all the deep wants of our nature, among the strong yearnings of every good man's heart, none are deeper or stronger than the want of, and the yearning for, a peaceful and happy home. To say of any man that he is homeless, is to picture him as forlorn and desolate, an exile and a wanderer, not yet having reached the goal of his earthly hopes.
Now, God has implanted no deep want in the human breast without providing for its gratification. As a wise and beneficent Being, he must provide for the ultimate satisfaction of every desire which his own boundless love has placed within us. And this universal desire for a home, is one which belongs to the soul's nature. It is rooted in our spiritual constitution,—so deeply rooted, too, that we may be sure it will not perish with the death of the body. And when we consider that this desire increases rather than diminishes in strength as we advance in the regenerate life, or approximate the heavenly state, how can we resist the conclusion that it will exist in heaven also, and be even stronger there than here?
And if this universal desire for a home goes with us into the other world (as it must, if it belongs to our spiritual constitution), we may be sure that the Lord, in the plenitude of his love and wisdom, will not fail to provide for its gratification in heaven. For the angels would be unhappy, and heaven would be no heaven to them, if, endowed with an intense longing for a home, the means and opportunity of satisfying this thirst were denied them.
The conclusion, therefore, is forced upon us, that there are and must be homes in heaven, as there are in all the best and happiest portions of earth.
But the moment we think of the angels as having homes, we think of them as dwelling in houses,—so intimately is the idea of home associated in our minds with some kind of habitation. We cannot even think of human homes without human habitations of some sort; and they are no more possible in heaven than on earth.
True, the first use of houses here, is defense against the storms and shelter from the cold and heat. But this, though it be their primary, is by no means their highest, use. A house everywhere stands as the representative image of home. It is the symbol of those home-born, home-bred, and home-felt joys which constitute "that best portion of a good man's life." Suppose there were no inclement skies, no chilling frosts, nor scorching heat, nor drenching rains, nor pitiless blasts, nor anything, indeed, to make houses necessary to bodily comfort, does it follow that human beings would then need and have no houses? By no means; for so long as the love of home lives in the hearts of good men and women, so long will some kind of habitation be sought and had as the symbol of that love. Human beings, and especially those who have made much progress in regeneration, will have houses as the sanctuaries of those pure domestic joys which are more than half the solace and sunshine and fragrance of life.
Therefore houses, though not needed in heaven as a defense against cold and storms, are needed for their higher spiritual uses. And as sure as there dwells in the hearts of angels the love of home (and we cannot think of them as existing without this love), so sure is it that they must have houses.
Moreover, the outward or phenomenal heaven would lose half its beauty if there were no houses. Picture to yourself the loveliest rural scene imaginable—fields and forests, trees and lawns, gardens and flowers, singing-birds and gurgling brooks, fleecy clouds and azure skies and the picture would be clearly defective or incomplete without human habitations. The presence of beautiful houses as the symbols of life's sweetest joys, would be indispensable to the completeness of the scene. The æsthetic element of our nature demands this.
It is because the love of home is so deeply implanted in the human heart, that we always feel the need of a house as its symbol to complete the beauty of any landscape. Heaven, therefore, without human habitations would be lacking in one important element of beauty. It would not be our conception of the celestial realms. Besides, some of the deepest, tenderest, and best feelings of the heart—feelings which can be developed and kept alive only in the sanctuary of home—could not be visibly represented in heaven without houses. Therefore these feelings could not live—could, indeed, have no existence—in heaven; for every living thing in the hearts of the angels, is pictured there under visible and correspondential forms. This is the law which underlies and determines all the phenomena of the other world—the law of correspondence.
That there should be houses in heaven, therefore, seems altogether reasonable; and not only reasonable, but, if the inner is visibly pictured in the outer world there, there must be houses. The great law that determines the whole aspect of the phenomenal world in the Hereafter, necessitates this conclusion. And through the operation of this same law, the habitations of the angels ought also to be very beautiful; for these, like all their other surroundings, being the normal outbirth or true expression of their interior states, should be in exact correspondence with those states; that is, in correspondence with their prevailing thoughts, feelings, dispositions and motives—in short, with their ruling loves.
Such is the clear verdict of reason on this subject. Such the conclusion reached by fair and logical argument based upon certain known principles and deeply implanted instincts of our better nature. And now let us see how far the disclosures made through Swedenborg agree with this conclusion; for, if true, they should not be in conflict with reason. The following extracts are pertinent:
"All the angels have their own habitations, which are magnificent. I have occasionally seen them, and admired them, and have there conversed with the occupants. They are so distinct and conspicuous that nothing can be more so. The houses on earth are scarcely anything in comparison. Indeed, the angels say that such things on earth are dead and not real; but that their own are alive and true, because they are from the Lord. Their architecture is such as to be the ground and source of the architectural art, with an indefinite variety. The angels have assured me that, if they could have all the palaces on earth, they would not exchange their own for them. What is of stone and mortar and wood is to them dead; but what is from the Lord, or from essential life and light, this, they say, is alive—and the more so, as they enjoy it with all the fulness of sense. For the things in heaven are perfectly adapted to the senses of spirits and angels; while things seen in the light of this solar world are altogether invisible to them.
"The walls of the habitations of angelic spirits are constructed with much variety, and are adorned also with flowers, and wreaths of flowers wonderfully composed, beside many other ornaments, which are varied in an orderly succession. At one time they appear in a clear light; at another time, in a light less clear; but always with interior delight. Their houses are also changed into more and more beautiful ones, as the spirits become more perfect in character."—A. C. n. 1626-1630.
I have seen the palaces of heaven, which were magnificent beyond description. Their upper parts shone refulgent as if of pure gold, and their lower parts as if of precious stones. Some were more splendid than others; and the splendor without was equalled by the magnificence within. The apartments were ornamented with decorations which no words can adequately describe.
I have also been informed that not only the palaces and houses, but the minutest particulars both within and without them, correspond to the interior things in the angels of the Lord; that the house itself in general corresponds to their good, and the various things within it to the various particulars of which their good is composed. —H. H. n. 185, 186.Now all this is seen to be in perfect agreement with the laws of the spiritual world as unfolded by the same author. It is precisely what might have been logically inferred, if the ruling loves of heaven and the law that determines the phenomenal world there, be what he so often tells us they are. Everything he has said about the habitations of the angels, is found to be in perfect harmony with all his other disclosures, and to follow by strict logical sequence from his fundamental principles. So that what has been revealed through him on this subject is seen to have the merit of perfect consistency; and it is not less reasonable than consistent.
The houses in heaven, we are told, correspond to the character or internal state of those who live in them. They are the visible representatives of the ruling loves of their occupants. And so exact is the correspondence that no angel can dwell permanently in any other house than his own; for no other would be in correspondence with his state of life. His house is, in fact, a normal outbirth from his own state, built up or created from it and in correspondence with it.
As the angels are all in states of love akin to the Lord's own,—all in bright, cheerful, affectionate, happy states,—therefore their houses are all very beautiful. But there are countless degrees and kinds of good in which the angels are, and a consequent endless diversity of state among them, just as there are among good men and women on earth. And accordingly their habitations, although they are all beautiful, are all somewhat different, corresponding to their different kinds and degrees of good. There is the same endless diversity in the heavenly habitations that there is in the character of their occupants;—the same, indeed, that characterizes the face of the whole habitable earth and every part of the material universe.
In the spiritual world every one's own state determines not only the character of his habitation, but his place of abode and all his surroundings. And he can feel perfectly at home nowhere but in the midst of surroundings which are in correspondence with his inner life. This is both reasonable and probable. The same law is operative among men on earth, and with close approximation to the same results. The character of every one does, in time, reveal itself to some extent in his earthly surroundings; and there is ever a strong tendency in this direction. If possessed of ample means, and left to act in perfect freedom, each one chooses a location and builds and furnishes a house corresponding to his idea of beauty, comfort and convenience. Give to some people the most magnificent habitation filled and surrounded with everything beautiful, and leave them to do with it as they please, and how long will it be before that palatial residence will be changed to a loathsome den? Of a nature (inherited or acquired) akin to that of certain animals, they will, erelong, convert the loveliest habitation into a squalid stye. Place them where you will, amid whatever scenes of beauty or magnificence, and they cannot fail in time to stamp their own character on all their surroundings. And on the other hand, place people of refinement and culture in the humblest cabin, and will they not in time so beautify and adorn that cabin, that it will reveal to the intelligent observer something of their refined and cultivated tastes? And the reason is obvious; for every kind of life is delighted with, and therefore seeks, that and only that which corresponds with its own nature.
And the same great law that fashions the habitations and the whole outward aspect of heaven, is (as might be expected, if true) no less operative or potential in hell. Character (good or bad) shapes each one's house and all his surroundings in the other world, in complete correspondence with itself. And while the heavenly abodes are all inconceivably bright and beautiful, those of the nether regions are correspondingly dark and loathsome. Says Swedenborg:
Now, it is every one's ruling love which determines his real character or state. And a house being the place of one's residence, corresponds to his state. Each one's dominant love, therefore, fashions his spiritual house. For this love is the heart's home-centre. It is where the individual lives spiritually. It is the point towards which his soul perpetually gravitates, as surely as a ball suspended in the air forever gravitates towards the centre of the earth, or as the heart of a mother who loves her children and her household duties, perpetually gravitates towards her home whenever she is absent from it. Every one's thoughts and purposes are shaped and directed by his ruling love. If this be the love of wealth, of reputation, of preferment, of power, he will be continually meditating plans by which to obtain what his heart longs for. Or if it be the love of the Lord and the neighbor—the love of truth, justice, sincerity, uprightness, and of enlightening, improving and blessing his fellow-men, then will his thoughts centre on these things, and be chiefly occupied with plans for promoting them. So obviously true is it that each one's ruling love is the determining force within him. This is his heart's centre,—the point towards which his whole being gravitates and around which it perpetually revolves. This is his spiritual dwelling-place, his habitation, his home. And this, therefore, is what every one's house in the Hereafter represents or images to the outward eye.
And since the law which determines the phenomenal world in the spiritual realm, is the very same as that which determines the letter of the Word,—that is, the law of correspondence, which is none other than the relation of cause and effect,—therefore Swedenborg's descriptions of the phenomena of the other world, and his unfoldings of the internal sense of the Word, ought not only to harmonize, but mutually to confirm and illustrate each other. And this they are found to do in a manner so remarkable and striking as clearly to demonstrate the truth of both. It is, as we have often remarked, one of those verifications of the truth of his statements, such as no human ingenuity, however subtle, could have possibly contrived and in all cases made to tally.
Take the case of houses in heaven, and their correspondence and significance. The Psalmist says, "One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after, that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord and to inquire in his temple" (xxvii. 4). Is this to be understood literally? If so, one can hardly conceive of a more unreasonable desire than is here expressed. But, understood in its spiritual sense, the thing which the Psalmist here longs for above all else, is worthy the intense longing and supreme effort of every human being. For "the house of the Lord," interpreted by the rule of correspondence, means the will or life of the Lord,—his pure and unselfish love. To dwell in this house is to dwell in Him, or in that disinterested love which is from Him and is Himself—a love which pours itself forth liberally as the ever-bountiful sun,—a love which never seeks its own, but always the good of others. To dwell in this love is to have this love dwelling and operative in us. As saith the beloved disciple, "God is love, and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God and God in him." Is there anything so much to be desired as this? It is the noblest, highest, happiest state which a human being can attain to. It is the truly human state; yea, it is the heavenly state.
Interpreting the Psalmist's language spiritually, therefore, or by the rule of correspondence, we see that the thing he desired and resolved to seek above all else, is the thing worthy of every one's supreme affection and best endeavor. It is, indeed, what every regenerating soul must desire and seek after as the supreme good.
Again, after saying, "The Lord is my Shepherd: I shall not therefore want," the same inspired writer exclaims, "Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever." (xxiii. 6.) What sort of a house can here be meant? the thoughtful inquirer will again ask. Not any temporary, earthly, or material structure, but that spiritual, heavenly and eternal habitation which is the Lord's own,—that sweet and all-embracing love which is himself, his own essential life,—that "house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." And every one comes into and evermore abides in this house, who, through self-denial and inward conflict, and obedience to the known laws of the Lord, comes into a state of disinterested neighborly love. So that this language of the Psalmist, in its spiritual sense, is seen to be, like all inspired language, of universal application. Every soul that takes the Lord for his shepherd and guide, and faithfully follows Him, may be sure of the abundant and continued influx of his goodness and mercy, and may confidently say, "I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever."
And so of other passages in the Word which speak of "the Father's house," "the house of the Lord," "the house of the God of Jacob," etc., and of "going up to" and "dwelling in" that house. When the correspondence or spiritual meaning of house is understood, such passages are seen to have something more than a local or Jewish significance. They are seen to be full of instruction for people of every age and nation; for it is seen that at all times and in all places, even where there is no visible temple or place of external and formal worship, souls may be ever "going up to the mount of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob."
And Swedenborg further tells us that houses in heaven, like the best houses on earth, have many separate apartments,—inner-chambers and closets; and these correspond to the more interior recesses of every soul, to the secret motives of every heart. They are the visible symbols of those interior states to which the devout believer retires when he wishes to be alone with God—to "commune with his own heart"—to examine himself in the light of divine truth. It is to such interior states—to these deeper recesses of the heart, that reference is had in the spiritual sense of the Lord's words, where He says, "When thou prayest, enter into thy closet;" for there, in the secret closet of the soul, is the place for all genuine prayer and worship—for all real fellowship and vital union with Him who seeth in secret, and whose reward is sure.
And thus we find that, between Swedenborg's disclosures of the facts and phenomena of the spiritual world and his spiritual interpretations of the Scripture, there is no disagreement but perfect harmony. And this harmony is such as no human ingenuity could ever have invented; such, indeed, as clearly demonstrates the truth of both. If the law which determines the phenomenal world in the great Beyond, be the same as that according to which the Divine of the Lord forever descends to ultimates, according to which the inspired Word was composed, according to which creation is effected,—namely, the law of correspondence between the interior and exterior, or between cause and effect,—then we should expect to find in the teachings of the seer precisely the harmony to which we have referred, and which actually exists there.
Briefly to sum up what has been said:—
The heaven that Swedenborg tells us of is a thoroughly human heaven. And since it is human, there must be homes and consequently human habitations there. These, like everything else in the other world, are spiritual in their nature. This, too, is the testimony of both reason and Scripture. The houses in heaven are growths—creations—from within, and therefore in perfect correspondence with the states of their occupants. They are the normal outbirths of the loves which rule in the hearts of the angels—of loves which constitute their very being, and in whose exercise they live and find their supreme delight. Beautiful and magnificent are they, too, according to the breadth, exaltation, purity and intensity of their love; yet differing from each other as the angels themselves differ—thus enhancing the beauty and joy of heaven by their endless variety. And what is there in all this that is contrary to reason, to the teachings of Scripture, or to our highest conceptions of the wisdom and love and providence of God?
Then look at its practical tendency—its immediate and direct bearing upon the life and character of the believer. Is it not obviously good and wholesome? In the light of these disclosures we see that all the splendid habitations and magnificent palaces of heaven are but pictorial representations, under the great law of correspondence, of the ruling loves of the angels. They are the exact images of their dominant affections, reflecting with mathematical precision their inner life and character. It is each one's ruling love that fashions and adorns his house in the other world, the inner chambers and closets of which, with all their furniture, are but the correspondential images of his secret motives and hidden purposes. And he cannot possibly have or dwell in any other house than that which is in correspondence with his character.
So that, when our fleshly tabernacle is dissolved, if we would dwell in the beautiful mansions on high, we can hope to do so only by developing and carrying with us the angelic loves of which those mansions are the visible symbols. We must begin on earth to live the life of heaven; must imbibe here, and carry with us into the Hereafter, something of that heavenly spirit which creates for the angels their magnificent abodes; must begin here to find our life and delight in the performance of useful deeds from high and heavenly motives; must begin to make the Lord's unselfish love the sweet and familiar dwelling-place of our souls. For, according to the dispositions we indulge, the purposes we cherish, the plans of life we pursue, the motives we allow to govern us, we are actually building while here on earth our everlasting habitations;—building them beautiful and symmetrical like the palaces of heaven, if our ends of life be high and heavenly, but dark and dismal like the abodes of hell, if our ends be mean and selfish.