The Saint's Rest is not to be expected on Earth.
§ 1. In order to shew the sin and folly of expecting rest here, § 2. (I.) the reasonableness of present afflictions is considered; § 3. (1.) that they are the way to rest, § 4. (2.) keep us from mistaking our rest, § 5. (3.) from losing our way to it, § 6. (4.) quicken our pace towards it, § 7. (5.) chiefly incommode our flesh, § 8, 9. and (6.) under them the sweetest foretastes of rest are often enjoyed; § 10. (II.) How unreasonable to rest in present enjoyments; § 11. (1.) that 'tis idolatry; § 12. (2.) that it contradicts God's end in giving them; § 13. (3.) is the way to have them refused, withdrawn, or embittered; § 14. (4.) that to be suffered to take up our rest here is the greatest curse; § 15. (5.) that it is seeking rest where it is not. § 16 (6.) that the creatures without God, would aggravate our misery. § 17. (7.) and all this is confirmed by experience. § 18. The Author laments that this is nevertheless a most common sin. § 19-23 (III.) How unreasonable our unwillingness to die, and possess the saint's rest, is largely considered. § 24. The Author apologizes for saying so much on this last head.
§ 1. We are not yet come to our resting place. Doth it remain? How great then is our sin and folly to seek and expect it here? Where shall we find the Christian that deserves not this reproof? We would all have continual prosperity, because it is easy and pleasing to the flesh; but we consider not the unreasonableness of such desires. And when we enjoy convenient houses, goods, lands, and revenues? or the necessary means God hath appointed for our spiritual good; we seek rest in these enjoyments. Whether we are in an afflicted, or prosperous state, it is apparent, we exceedingly make the creature our rest. Do we not desire creature enjoyments more violently, when we want them, than we desire God himself? Do we not delight more in the possession of them, than in the enjoyment of God? And if we lose them, doth it not trouble us more than our loss of God? Is it not enough, that they are refreshing helps in our way to heaven, but they must also be made our heaven itself? Christian reader, I would as willingly make thee sensible of this sin, as of any sin in the world, if I could tell how to do it; for the Lord's greatest quarrel with us is in this point. In order to this, I most earnestly beseech thee to consider,—the reasonableness of present afflictions,—and the unreasonableness of resting in present enjoyments;—as also of our unwillingness to die, that we may possess eternal rest.
§ 2. (I.) To shew the reasonableness of present afflictions, consider,—they are the way to rest;—they keep us from mistaking our rest,—and from losing our way to it;—they quicken our pace towards it;—they chiefly incommode our flesh;—and under them God's people have often the sweetest foretastes of their rest.
§ 3. (1.) Consider, that labor and trouble are the common way to rest, both in the course of nature and grace. Can there possibly be rest without weariness? Do you not travel and toil first, and rest after? The day for labor is first, and then follows the night for rest. Why should we desire the course of grace to be perverted, any more than the course of nature? It is an established decree, _that we must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of God_.[298] And that _if we suffer, we shall also reign with Christ_.[299] And what are we that God's statutes should be reversed for our pleasure?
[Footnote 298] Acts xiv, 22.
[Footnote 299] 2 Timothy ii, 12.
§ 4. (2.) Afflictions are exceeding useful to us, to keep us from mistaking our rest. A Christian's motion towards heaven is voluntary, and not constrained. Those means therefore are most profitable, which help his understanding and will. The most dangerous mistake of our souls is, to take the creature for God, and earth for heaven. What warm, affectionate, eager thoughts have we of the world, till afflictions cool and moderate them? Afflictions speak convincingly, and will be heard when preachers cannot. Many a poor Christian is sometimes bending his thoughts to wealth, or flesh pleasing, or applause; and so loses his relish of Christ, and the joy above; till God break in upon his riches, or children, or conscience, or health, and break down his mountain which he thought so strong: And then, when he lieth in Manasseh's fetters; or is fastened to his bed with pining sickness, the world is nothing, and heaven is something. If our dear Lord did not put these thorns under our head, we should sleep out our lives, and lose our glory.