3353113Heaven Revealed — Chapter 2Benjamin Fiske Barrett

II.

OBJECTIONS ANSWERED.

IT is quite common to hear urged against Swedenborg's claim, such objections as these: That, after the closing of the sacred canon, there was never to be any further revelation; that his disclosures concerning the other world, if true, would be a revelation of mysteries which no one has a right to pry into or know anything about; that it would be an unveiling of the "secret things" which belong to God, and are no concern of ours.

But what reason have we to believe that God has limited Himself to precisely that measure of revealed truth vouchsafed to the world many centuries ago? Where is it written that He will never make any further revelation concerning Himself, his kingdom, or the grand realities of the spiritual world? The Bible contains no such declaration—no warrant, indeed, for any such belief. What reason, then, for believing that the Heavenly Father has denied to Himself the delight of communicating, or to men the blessed privilege of receiving, more truth concerning that world beyond the tomb which is to be the final home of all his children? What reason for the belief that everything was revealed centuries ago, which ever was or ever is to be revealed? And if it should please God to lift the veil, and make a disclosure of things once secret, is it presumptuous for mortals to look upon them? However unlawful it may be to pry into the mysteries of the spirit-world, it surely cannot be wrong to receive with thankfulness such disclosures as Infinite Wisdom has been pleased to make. True, it is written that "secret things belong unto the Lord our God;" but it is immediately added: that "those things which are revealed, belong unto us and to our children forever." (Deut. xxix. 29.)

And if there be a spiritual world (and the Scriptures plainly teach that there is), is it not reasonable to believe that more will ultimately be known about it, than was communicated to Christians 1800 years ago? Have we not reason to expect that the time will come when the mysteries of that world will be unveiled and its sublime realities disclosed—at least to man's, mental or moral vision? Christ told his immediate followers that He had many things to say unto them, which they were not able to bear (John xvi. 12); but He never intimated that the same inability would belong to his disciples throughout the coming ages. On the contrary. He more than hinted, and on more than one occasion, that more truth might some day be expected than it was expedient at that time to impart. He told them that the time was coming when He would no longer speak in parables, but would show them plainly of the Father. He told them of a Comforter which He would send unto them, even the spirit of truth;" and this Comforter, He said, when He came, would teach them all things, would show them things to come, would guide them into all truth. (John xvi. 7-13.)

He spoke also of another coming of Himself, more searching, more glorious, more powerful in its operation upon the minds and hearts of men than his first appearing—a coming which He said would be "with power and great glory."

Now, who can say, in limine, that, in these prophetic intimations, no reference was had to that grand system of religious truth which was unfolded, or came professedly as a new revelation, more than a century ago? Who can say that the increasing light upon all subjects which has been flooding the world for the last hundred years, is not a veritable fulfillment of these prophecies, and in the sense intended? Who knows but the many interesting disclosures made through Swedenborg concerning the spiritual world, may be among the things which the Saviour had to announce, but which the men of 1850 years ago were "not able to bear"? Christ declared Himself to be "the Way," "the Truth," "the Life," "the Light of the world," "the Light which enlighteneth every man." And the apostle John says: "God is light, and in Him is no darkness at all." May not the predicted second coming of Christ, then, be the coming to human minds of more abundant light from Him who is declared to be "the true Light"?—of light more interior, searching and glorious than has hitherto dawned on our world?—the light of the spiritual sense of the Word breaking forth through the cloud of the letter,—coupled also with the coming to human hearts of a sweeter and more Christ-like spirit? And may not this light reveal, among other things, the nature, laws and phenomena of that world which is to be our eternal dwelling-place? Who knows, we say, but spiritual light—the light of the New Jerusalem which is beginning even now to gild and gladden with its splendors the world's moral horizon—light manifesting itself amid clouds of still existing error, the mists of ignorance, superstition and prejudice, the smoke of demoniacal passions and enmities—may be precisely what the Saviour referred to when He spoke of a second coming of the Son of Man "in the clouds of heaven, with power and great glory"? Who knows? And the way to acquire such knowledge is not, we submit, to treat with indifference or neglect everything that claims to be a new revelation, but to "watch"—not with the eyes of the body, but with the eyes of the mind, that is, with our intellectual and reasoning faculties.

We shall find, on careful reading and a thoughtful consideration of the whole subject, that the language of the New Testament clearly requires, for its complete fulfillment, some such revelation as that claimed to have been made through the seer of Stockholm. The past history and present state of the Christian church also, and the acknowledged ignorance of teachers of the Christian religion concerning the spiritual world, justify the same expectation.

The Bible, it is generally conceded, teaches the immortality of the soul—the immortality of man. The fair and logical conclusions from which are, that the soul, when the body dies, still continues to live in its own congenial realm which is spiritual, that is, homogeneous with itself; that this, therefore, necessitates the existence of a supersensuous or spiritual world vastly more populous than that in which we are now living,—a world into which tens of thousands of human beings are consciously introduced every hour; not a mere dream-land, or a region of unsubstantial shadows, but a real world inhabited by a countless host of rational and immortal spirits who were once invested with material bodies like our own. And this, too, is generally conceded.

But ask the ministers of Christ to-day—the ministers of that religion which is claimed to have brought "life and immortality to light"—about the spiritual world. Ask them in what condition we may expect to find ourselves when we shall have "shuffled off this mortal coil." Ask them if we shall still be in the human form, having eyes, ears, hands, feet, and other bodily organs;—if we shall retain the power of thinking, reasoning, remembering, loving, conversing and enjoying. Ask them if our departed friends still think of us and love us on "the shining shore;" if they are near us, interested in our welfare, and capable of exerting any influence upon us,—and if so, how, or according to what law. Ask whether, when we leave these mortal bodies, we shall join them in conscious visible association—be recognized and embraced by them, and recognize and embrace them in return. Ask whether the distinction of sex is preserved in the great Beyond, what kind of social life (if any) exists there, and what the law that governs in the association of spirits. Ask whether those who die in infancy and childhood retain forever their infantile form, or whether they grow to the full stature of men and women as in this world. Ask whether the righteous who die of old age, continue wrinkled, bowed and decrepid there as here, or whether they return to the bloom and vigor of their early manhood. Ask what is the nature of heaven and hell; what are the delights of good and what those of evil spirits (if the latter have any); what constitutes the happiness of the former, and what the misery of the latter. Ask if there be any industries or occupations beyond the grave, and what their nature; and whether there exists any sort of connection (and if so, what?) between spirits in the other world and men in this world. Ask ministers of the Gospel these and a hundred other similar questions (and they are questions which the human heart instinctively asks,—nay, cannot help asking), and what will they answer? Perhaps they will give you their opinions—their conjectures; and these may sometimes be quite sensible. But generally you will receive, in answer to all such inquiries, a frank confession of entire ignorance. They will tell you that they do not pretend to know anything about such matters, as nothing has ever been revealed; and, therefore, they cannot undertake to teach with confidence anything concerning them.

And is it reasonable to suppose that this state of confessed ignorance about things of such absorbing interest to rational and immortal beings, will always continue? Can we believe that the ministers of Christ are never to have anything but crude conjecture wherewith to answer inquiries upon such erroneous. and momentous themes? If there be a spiritual world, according to the universal belief of Christians, is it reasonable to conclude that its arcana will never be revealed? Does such conclusion agree with what we believe and know of the goodness and mercy of God, the wants of the human soul, or the progress of our race in knowledge upon all other subjects? The human mind has, for the last hundred years, made prodigious advances in knowledge of the material world, and in the means of satisfying the wants and increasing the comforts of our physical life. The secrets of universal nature have been steadily disclosing themselves, as men needed the knowledge thereof, and were prepared to use it wisely. And new and useful discoveries still succeed each other almost with the rapidity of thought. Nor can we fix any limit to this progress in knowledge of the material universe. There is no limit. To fix one, were to limit the Infinite Himself, or to deny the indefinite enlargement and receptivity of the human mind.

Now, seeing that God is perpetually disclosing the secrets of this natural world for the benefit of his rational creatures, and since the liveliest imagination can set no bounds to the increase of knowledge in this direction, is it reasonable to suppose that all knowledge of the spiritual world will be forever denied us? Will the Heavenly Father vouchsafe to his children an unimaginable amount of truth concerning this world of matter, and keep that sublimer world of spirit which is to be our eternal home, forever shrouded in darkness? Will He never reveal to us anything concerning the life beyond the grave, save the simple fact of the soul's immortality?

Whether we consult reason or revelation, therefore, we are brought to the same conclusion. We find ample warrant for the belief that some such disclosures concerning the other world as are found in Swedenborg's pneumatology, are clearly in accordance with the ways and workings of Divine Providence, and therefore to be expected sooner or later. And how could such disclosures be made without the aid of a human instrument? How, but by the opening of the spiritual senses of some chosen and duly qualified servant of the Lord, and his consequent intromission into that world while still an inhabitant of this? How, in short, but in the precise manner alleged by the illustrious Swede?

But we are met with another objection—or rather excuse for giving no serious attention to Swedenborg's pneumatology—which is: That a revelation concerning the spiritual world, even if true, could serve no valuable purpose; that it is needless, and might be worse than useless; that it could only gratify a morbid curiosity or a love of the marvelous, which had better be denied than gratified.

Those who make this objection, or offer this excuse in justification of their indifference respecting the disclosures in question, do so, we think, without sufficient consideration. The same persons would hardly be willing to say, that the astronomer, the student of the higher mathematics, the inventor or builder of telescopes, any one devoted to the acquisition and impartation of knowledge respecting our solar system and the stellar universe, is engaged in a useless occupation. On the contrary, they would tell us that any pursuit which tends to enlarge our knowledge of the material cosmos, to make us better acquainted with the heavenly bodies and the laws that govern their movements, is a high and noble use, even though it add nothing to our immediate physical comfort. Useless, indeed, so far as relates to supplying our bodily wants, may be the business of those engaged in astronomical observations. But are they not ministering to some deeper wants of our nature—wants not less real and imperative than those of the body? Have not the labors of the astronomer helped to enlarge our knowledge of the universe, and thus contributed to the growth and expansion of the mind, and the consequent intellectual and moral progress of our race?

But the grandeur of the material universe as disclosed to us by modern science, is nothing in comparison with the grandeur of that other universe—the universe of mind. Planets and suns with all their beautiful laws and phenomena, and all their quiet, orderly, rhythmic movements, are indeed wonderful; but the human soul with all its endowments—its amazing powers of thought and affection, its faculty of boundless growth in knowledge and virtue, its untold and inconceivable capabilities of bliss and of suffering—this is far more wonderful. By the side of this, how feeble and almost insignificant the glory and grandeur of all material orbs! How much more is this like God himself, than planets or suns or aught else in the created universe! And shall we conclude that a knowledge of the universe of souls—of its facts, phenomena and laws—can be of no value? That this is knowledge not worth revealing, or not worth examining when revealed? Shall knowledge of the material universe be considered wholesome and useful—enlarging, enriching and exalting the human soul—and knowledge of the spiritual universe, so much higher and nobler, be pronounced worthless? Is it probable that the former of these knowledges can reveal to us more of God, can more exalt our conceptions of his wisdom and love, or tend to bring us nearer to his moral likeness, than the latter? Can the study of natural astronomy enlarge and ennoble the pursuer, and the learning of that higher kind of astronomy which embraces the relations, laws and phenomena of the spiritual spheres, be useless? Is this reasonable, or even probable?

Again: Let the reader imagine himself a young man, intending to emigrate to some foreign country in the course of a few years, and to reside there during the remainder of his life. Would he not naturally desire some information about that country, and about the character, conduct and condition of its people? Would he not wish to know something of their manners and customs, their language and laws, their dispositions and habits, their occupations and modes of life? And might not such knowledge be very useful by enabling him the better to prepare himself for the honorable discharge of his duties as a citizen of that country? And suppose the country to have been previously visited by some distinguished traveler who had published a full account of his travels, of the country itself and the people living there; would the time employed in reading his book be considered unprofitably spent? Would anybody think, or would the young man himself think, that, in reading it, he was merely gratifying an idle curiosity?

Well, then, we ask if the desire for some information about that country whither we are all going—going, we know not how soon, and going to remain forever—be not equally natural, yes, and equally lawful? And can we conceive of no higher use for such information, than merely to gratify a morbid curiosity? Who knows but it may be turned to good account in enabling us to fit ourselves more thoroughly for the duties and enjoyments of our future home? Who knows but a graphic picture of both the upper and the nether realms in the spirit-land—of life in heaven and life in hell—may kindle in our hearts a deeper desire for the former and a more intense loathing of the latter? Who knows but it may quicken our diligence and nerve our energies toward the attainment of the one and the avoidance of the other? It has generally been believed by Christians that there exists some sort of connection between the present life and the life to come. And who dares say that the knowledge of how our life hereafter is related to our life here, can be of no practical importance?

A wise parent in the education of his children, usually has some reference to the part they are expected to act when they shall have come to years of maturity. And it will not be denied that his knowledge of their future duties as husbands, fathers, wives, mothers—as members of society and citizens of the state—enables him to direct their education more wisely and profitably than he otherwise could. Why, then, should not we be able to give a wiser direction to our own education in this the childhood of our being, by a knowledge of the world into which we are sure of being ushered in our more mature manhood?—a knowledge of the laws, duties, occupations and enjoyments of the spiritual realm?

No need of a revelation concerning the other world! Look at the state of the Christian church at the time Swedenborg lived and wrote. Infidelity had well-nigh palsied every limb, and a cheerless, heartless, withering materialism was pressing like an incubus upon her vitals. Questions had been asked about the future life, which the wisest of the clergy were unable to answer. Many had come to deny, and many more to doubt, even the soul's immortality. To arrest this tide of skepticism, there was needed just such a disclosure of the future life and of the grand realities of the spiritual world, as that made through Swedenborg; and one accompanied with precisely that internal and rational kind of evidence, too, which alone could satisfy the demands of a reasoning and reflecting age.

A revelation concerning the spiritual world not needed! Useless, say you, even if true! Go ask that mother as she bends over the body of her departed child, and presses upon its marble brow the last fond tribute of a mother's love:—Ask her if she could find no solace in the assured conviction that her little one is now in the tender embrace of loving angels—yes, and brighter, healthier, happier, too, and fuller of exuberant life and bounding joy than ever before. Or ask that widowed wife, whose streaming eyes and pallid cheek and languid frame bespeak an agony too deep for words:—Ask her, as she sees the coffin-lid close over the remains of him to whom her affections clung with all the devotion of woman's love, whether it would not lighten somewhat the burden of her grief, to know something definite about that realm which her departed husband entered but yesterday:—Ask if it would not comfort her aching heart to know that he is more alive than ever before, and thinks of and loves her still; that his spirit is very near and fondly brooding over her own;—breathing into her soul in gentlest whispers the blessed influences of heaven (if his heart were set on heavenly things); watching over her tenderly, inspiring her with generous thoughts and noble endeavors, cheering and strengthening her in every good work, and ready, perchance, when her earthly sojourn is ended, to clasp her again in love's embrace: Or ask that youth or maiden who stands overwhelmed with anguish by the bedside of a dying father, mother, sister or brother, and feels as if the extinction of this mortal life were the end of human joys and hopes: Or ask that sad and thronging crowd who mourn the departure of those they love, and whose dark apparel is but a faint emblem of their darker sorrow, and the funereal gloom that shrouds to them the spirit-land,—ask them if a truthful revelation of the realities of that world to which their friends have so lately gone, would ring no comfort to their riven hearts. Ask if they would find no solace in the unwavering conviction that their loved ones are still near and watching over them for good—inspiring holy thoughts and sweet affections and good resolutions and high endeavor—fuller of life and joy and action than ever before. Or, ask the thousands who have felt and therefore know the sustaining power of this new revelation in times of sore bereavement;—thousands who once looked on death with dread dismay, but now contemplate it with a cheerful serenity, sometimes even with a holy joy. Ask them, and they will tell you the use of this revelation—speaking from their own experience of its blessings. They will tell you that not the splendor of empires, nor the wealth of kingdoms, nor the honor of thrones, nor all the gold and glory of the world, can compare in value with the truths they have learned about the great Hereafter from the writings of the Swedish seer.

And yet in all that we have here said, we have scarcely hinted at what we conceive to be the great practical value of these disclosures. We mean their direct influence upon the life of the receiver, here and now; their direct and powerful tendency to repress the evil and develop the good, and to mould the character into a heavenly form.

Here, then, we close our argument against the objections and in support of the need and use of this new revelation. Here we rest our plea for its thorough and serious examination. The candid inquirer will find here a pneumatology as rational as it is beautiful; as satisfying to the sternest demands of the head, as it is to the intensest cravings of the heart. And those who have studied it most and understand it best, would scarcely be believed were they to tell half they know of its comforts and satisfactions, its great practical value in the formation of character. Suffice it to add, that the Heavenly Father who understands our human needs, and who knows how to give good and only good gifts to his children, has mercifully vouchsafed this revelation in answer to a deep and growing want, and as one powerful means of drawing his children spiritually nearer to Himself and the shining ones around his throne. Infinite Wisdom saw the need, else the revelation would not have been made. And the use which it has already performed, the darkness and doubts it has so effectually dissipated, the peace and satisfaction it has afforded, and the support and solace it has ministered to thousands in times of sore bereavement, prove that it is neither the creation of a poet's fancy, nor the offspring of a disordered brain. And if the revelation be true, then it must have come from God out of heaven; and its thankful and reverent reception must tend to lead the receiver up to Him from whom it came.

But is it true?—is the question. Is there really a spiritual world, inhabited by spirits who are not mere phantoms, but real, substantial, human beings, with spiritual bodies in human form? If so, where is it, and of what concern is it to us? Are we spirits clad in material vestments which death will shortly relieve us of? And shall we then consciously enter the spirit-world as living, conscious, intelligent men and women-spirits in human form? And has God, indeed, been pleased to reveal the sublime realities of that world? If so, what is the evidence which is expected to satisfy inquiring and rational minds?

The answer to these questions, and some of the evidence which we think ought to satisfy candid minds, will be given in the following chapters.