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make up the other. Identity must have some limitations. It still remains, then, to be shown upon what grounds identity can be predicated of two human bodies, entirely different in the material composing them, in their capabilities and mode of existence, although inhabited successively by the same spirit. Not certainly on the ground that they are; for it is identity of body, and not spirit, which is the question at issue. In the literal resurrection of the body, identity is principally based upon the ground of material unity. The functional and historic connection has been broken. The body has crumbled back to dust. The principal relation sustained, then, by the two bodies, is in the identity of matter. Passing over the wild specu-. lations and extravagant views of some of the Fathers respecting the literal resurrection, we see no Scriptural objection to the hypothesis of Dr. Goodwin :1
That the principle of animal life lies dormant in connection with so much of the present material body as constitutes the seminal principle or essential germ of that body as is to serve as a germ of that future spiritual—and this portion may be truly body—material substance.
We are told2 that " microscopic examinations have shown that the body of the caterpillar contains the future butterfly in embryo." So the human body must possess something which is to re-appear— though changed—in the glorified spiritual body. Otherwise it would not matter where my resurrection took place. I might as well be raised in Africa, or from the crowded grave-yards of China, as from the grave where my dust reposed. In that case, it would destroy the peculiar significance of the Scripture—"The sea gave up the dead which were in it." "All that are in their graves shall hear His voice, and come forth."
Now that the resurrection-body may retain most, if not all, of its original elements, and yet be abundantly glorified with immortality, chemistry furnishes ample analogy to show:3
The marvelous excellency of the Creator's workmanship in the formation of the earth appears in the diversity of productions fashioned out of the same elements. While the appearance and distinguishing characteristics of marble, slate, porphyry, limestone, and basalt, are as distinct as can well be imagined, the real ultimate difference in their composition is extremely small. Few things are more unlike than common clay and the precious rubies, sapphires, beryls, garnets, and carbuncles; yet all these are but so many modifications of clay. Of all gems, the diamond »Bibliotheca Sacra, Jan. 1853. 'Science and the Bible, p. 471. 5 Ibid, p. 173.
is the hardest and most beautiful and the most valued; yet, strange to say, it is but a lump of charcoal, in a crystalized form. . . . And thus it is throughout nature. From a few simple substances the Divine Artificer has produced a multitude of useful minerals and beautiful gems, all differing so widely that, from their appearance, we should never think of comparing them with their original elements, or even suspect that any relation subsisted between them.
So may this mortal put on immortality by only a slight change in the condition of elements that compose our present bodies. Christ's glorified appearance to John, on the Isle of Patmos, has by some been advanced as evidence that his glorified body is in all respects different from the one "raised up by the glory of the Father." But it would be equally consistent to suppose that the body seen by the apostles on the Mount of Transfiguration was essentially different from the body of his humiliation. Yet no one supposes this. We all admit that it was an easy matter for Christ to pass, with the same body, from a condition of apparent humility to one of manifest glory —that while in the natural, as well as when in the spiritual body, his glory was veiled. All that is claimed is that his resurrectionbody was prepared to be glorified. This appearance to John was in some sense symbolical—representing attributes especially adapted to the wants of the churches to which important messages were sent. At first he appears in a glorious human form. A little further on, and to express another relation to the redeemed church, he is seen as a lamb. All these appearances prove nothing respecting the nature of his resurrection-body.
Objections to this view of Christ's resurrection, and the corresponding resurrection of the human family, are more usually based upon aesthetic or philosophical grounds rather than made with due regard to the teachings of God's Word. But respecting this most interesting subject we can know nothing beyond what is revealed. And however much philosophy may appear to clash with the truth of the Scriptures, we can safely rest our faith and hope only upon them, with full assurance that the power and wisdom of God are sufficient to harmonize the one and fulfil the other.
A. W. Goodnow.
THE RELATION OP PRAYER TO PASTORAL EFFICIENCY.
E propose to consider this subject in its Scriptural and Practical aspects.
Although the apostles, in their special work of communicating the Word of God and laying the foundations of the Christian Church, had and could have no successors, yet in all other respects they were like ordinary pastors and evangelists, and are thus open to our imitation. In the record we have of their wonderful labors, as well as in the letters written to the churches they planted, we catch glimpses of the spirit which moved them and of the secret sources of their power, and are left in no doubt as to the relation which prayer sustained to their success.
One expression of theirs is decisive on this question. When they were seeking relief from the burdens which had been undesignedly devolved on them in the distribution to the poor, they add, as the result of the appointment of the seven deacons, "We will give ourselves continually to prayer and to the ministry of the Word." (Acts vi. 4.) If from this statement, illustrated by their conduct, we may draw any formal induction, we can say that, with the apostles, the relation of prayer to pastoral efficiency was primary and vital.
It could not be otherwise—
1. Because of the faith they cherished in the living pretence of Christ with his Church. Not a few seem to regard the Christian Church in the same light in which a rationalist philosopher regards the universe—as a vessel admirably constructed, thoroughly equipped, and launched forth on her long voyage, while her great Architect retires into his own majesty, and calmly awaits the consummation of his plans. In such a system the study of the words of Christ and of the every-varying wants of the world would hold the chief place, while prayer would be as quietly subordinated and ultimately superseded as it is in the creed and practice of the rationalist philosopher.
But the apostles had no such thoughts. From the first, all their joys and hopes had been bound up in the personal presence of Christ. On the banks of the Jordan, and by the Sea of Galilee, while they had but a dim comprehension of his teachings, and knew almost nothing of his plans, his personal presence was to them an irresistible attraction. As time rolled on, and there proved to be much, both in his teachings and his plans, at utter variance with their most cherished hopes, and multitudes who at first rallied to his standard turned away and walked no more with him, yet, when asked, "Will ye also go away"? they replied, "Lord, to whom shall we go?" Then as the plans of Christ unfolded still more fully, and the breach between him and the Jewish leaders grew wider every day, the disciples drew all the closer to him, and he became dearer to them every day. When then he announced to them, on that fatal night, his speedy betrayal and death, they were overwhelmed with sorrow. They had given up home, and business, and reputation, and ecclesiastical connection, and everything they had to give, that they might be with him and enjoy his presence. They had found the treasure hid in a field, had sold all that they might possess it, and now the treasure itself was about to slip from their grasp. No wonder they were overwhelmed. To have told them, "You have his teachings, his promises, his ordinances," would have seemed idle words. It was himself they sought, and without him they were desolate indeed. When a loved father and mother are suddenly stricken down, and the light of their presence goes out in death, is it enough to comfort the weeping children and dry their tears, that we point them to the home purchased by the father's industry, and beautified by the mother's love? Ah, no; the sight of these does but remind them of their great loss, and increase their sorrow. Home and all its adornments appear as nothing, while they long to clasp the forms that have vanished, and to hear the voices that are silent. So bereaved were the disciples; and the Saviour knew that nothing but the assurance of his continued presence would give them real relief.
How sweet, then, was the promise, "I will not leave you orphans, I will come to you." And, lest they should mistake his meaning and miss its consolation, he renews it in several different forms. Of this coming they could as yet form no conception. "How is it," they asked, "that thou wilt manifest thyself unto us, and not unto the world?" And though his explanation failed to clear up the mystery entirely, yet they understood enough to be quieted and comforted. Then came the hour and power of darkness. As the Saviour had foretold, they were overwhelmed. "The world rejoiced, but they wept and lamented;" and yet "he did see them again, their hearts rejoiced, and their joy no man henceforth could take from them." By his coming he not only gave them undoubted proof of his resurrection, but, by his sudden appearance and disappearance, he gave them what they could not receive in any other way—a conception of his spiritual presence—and thus prepared them to look and trust to that, when these bodily appearances should cease. When then their faith had been sufficiently confirmed, "He led them forth as far as Bethany, and, as he blessed them, he was taken up into heaven, and they returned to Jerusalem "—not in mourning, as those who had lost their only friend—but "with great joy, and were continually in the temple, praising and blessing God." Their poverty, the enmity of the world, and cruelty of the Jewish rulers, all were as great as ever; but now they rejoiced, for they were not to be left alone. The Saviour would come back—not in bodily form, not bound and straitened by the limitations of his earthly condition—but disenthralled, and endowed with all the plenitude of divine power. No wonder they gave themselves at once to prayer for that spiritual coming, which should be to them more than all the bodily presence of Christ had been before his death. And how their faith was vindicated! What power came upon them! What conviction seized their enemies! What joy filled the hearts of those who received him! While "all Jerusalem was filled with their doctrine." And when asked by whose power all this was done, they spake with confidence of a present, living Saviour. "He hath shed forth this which ye now see and hear." "By him doth this man stand here before you whole." "The Lord added to the church the saved." Such was their conception of the work committed to them—not as of a work projected by one who was now dead, and who had left his plans to be wrought out by his successors, but as of a work to which the personal presence and supervision of the Master was to be given in a grander sense than when he was on earth. To him they expected to carry their burdens, their sorrows, their perplexities, just as before; from him they would seek