enter, excepting we have left behind us our time, man’s time, the time in which our whole terrestrial life runs its course. This time is no more time; it is eternity. And what else shall we say of eternity than that we know nothing about it save this: that in everything it differs wholly from that which we know here and now.
But now we may be tempted to ask: “Is there such a thing as this wholly different time? Why do we speak of this time, which is not time at all, when we actually know nothing about it?” But when we ask thus we begin to see that we must change our question and say: “Is there a time without eternity?” Whence comes this remarkable insight which enables us to perceive that all that is seen by us as new is not the really new, if this really new does not exist? Why can we not cease pushing restlessly forward, if there is not another shore over against us which we have not yet reached and yet must reach? Why must we forever think of this unattained, other, invisible haven? Why must we always be deprived of it, always see it ahead of us, always seek it? Why can we not come to an agreement with ourselves and with one another that there never will be anything but insatiable need and unrealized hope; and with this we shall rest satisfied? Why can we not accustom ourselves to the thought that there is no God; or, if there be a God, that He is and will always be far off and unapproachable? Why is it that something so remarkably great and full of hope reverberates constantly in the thoughts, concerns and wishes with which we look upon our lives and the lives of men generally? Can we think even of the shortest step that can and ought to be taken forward without, at the same time, if we are actually to succeed, turning to the All Highest, to the help and blessing of God, without which nothing can be done? “Without me ye can do nothing.” Why can we not cease to seek after that “which God does from the beginning to the end”? Is it perhaps, after all, too true, too great, too real?
Can we prevent eternity from shining and from speaking here and there into our time as though it were pacing beside us, step by step? Is it not the perfect, the wholly other, which, whether we like it or not, in spite of all the imperfect earthly on this bank of the stream, reaches into our existence? Do we not see, in all our doings, that we are brought to the point where we must say: “I am far from the best”? That which I actually would, I do not attain. Something wholly other and new should be reached in my life; and we must always pause and stand waiting for this new, other, better, that is beyond the border, if perchance it may come to us. Our whole life is spent in skirting this border line, the whole of our time is an expectation of a wholly other time, a waiting for eternity.
And, may I add: “Do we not see that it is just this point in our life, to which we are led again and again, and where we stand at the border, where we can only wait and hope, that is really the vital point from which the deepest impulses and the greatest virtue flow into us?” Is it not clear that the best in our lives is not knowledge and power, but our deep longing for redemption, the shame and unrest in which we must always press forward to something that is different from anything that we are and have. For we live not by the few answers which we know how to give to the questions of our existence, but by the quest for a wholly different answer, for the answer which God alone can give—that we, in the midst of the time of man, must await the Eternity of God; that we, in the midst of all imperfection, will be touched by the divine perfection, and by this we live. “God has set eternity into the heart of man.” This indicates need and unrest, but such need and unrest is salvation and blessedness. We must seek after eternity; but it may become clear to us, that this “must” means also a “can”—“Blessed are the poor in spirit.”
Thus we are in the midst of man’s time and cannot understand it without God’s time which is behind it and above it. Ever and anon we are tempted to think that there is no eternity; for what should mortal man wish to know of eternity. Yet out of our temporal and mortal state we cannot cease to look toward it. For there is not a moment in time that in its finiteness and limitations does not cry out for eternity. We are always before it as before the unintelligible, incomprehensible, and super-earthly; but we are, none the less, in the presence of it and must bow and pray before it.
Thus the two shores come together—that of time and that of eternity. We know that they are separated from each other; but no, they are not separated, because God has put eternity into the heart of man. We know that there never is a new, another time in the course of time; and yet we cannot cease to seek for it and wander toward it through time. We know that we are sinful, mortal men; and yet—are we only this? Are we not something wholly different, even children of God? To be sure, it is not yet made manifest what we shall be; but we know that if it shall be manifested, we shall be like Him. Again and again we must say: “World remains world.” War, sickness, death will never end; yet, contrary to appearance and experience, we cannot forbear to think of something wholly different—of a world of freedom and of righteousness, of peace and of life. We cannot cease believing that this new, other world it really the true, actual, coming and abiding world, in comparison with which the world that we have before our eyes will be blown away as sand and dust.
Do I say too much? Do I say more than is true? Yes, surely, I say too much, I say more than is true so far as we look at ourselves, think of ourselves, of that which is before our eyes, of the ordinary, small, miserable, commonplace man, whom we all are. He does not stand before God, he flees before Him; he does not believe in eternity, he does not live in the fear and adoration of the Lord. And, therefore, seen from his standpoint, the world always remains as it is. But I do not say too much and do not say anything that is not true, when I think of Him in whom this eternal, incomprehensible and true (though contrary to appearance) revelation is given unto us: Christ Jesus. While we are what we are, poor, small, sinning, dying, commonplace people, who each moment forget the eternity which we are approaching, He came and took our forgetfulness of eternity upon Himself and bore it, took it for us upon Himself and carried it for us; for us He thought of God, became for us, through struggling and suffering, obedient unto death, yes unto death on the cross, and by death He broke through into eternal life.
If it is true that God has put eternity into the heart of man; if it is more than a distant wishing and hoping; if it is so true that we can live and die by it, then it is true only in Jesus Christ. In Him the opposite shores come together, in Him that which is divided becomes united, in Him time and eternity meet. In Him God, who is hidden from us and of whom we of ourselves can know nothing, is revealed as the Father.
Hence everything depends upon this, that Jesus Christ speaks to us men who pass on with the fleeting times. There are men and times to whom Jesus Christ becomes manifest. They are not yet new times and new men in the final sense; but they are the times and the men that, in the midst of the old time and of the old condition, point and aim toward the really new time and the really new men who hear the word of the eternal love of the Father, the word of the forgiveness of sins, and know the one thing besides which there is nothing else. There are times and men that have to do with eternity, because they have learnt to look upon Him who has brought to light eternity in the midst of time. Life for such men does not flow smooth and easy. He, who has received eternity into his heart, must seek to understand “what God does from the beginning to the end.” That means unrest, conflict, and pilgrimage. But there is rest in this unrest, there is victory in this struggle; this pilgrimage has a goal and an end. For God has set eternity into the heart of man, and how could God leave those without an answer who at His behest are seeking Him?
If such a time ever dawns—and why should it not dawn? Let it bring what it will in other respects, it will be a new time (yet with all reserve be it said!), a year of salvation and refreshing, a year in which peace and truth and righteousness will come to light, even though it be a time of heaviness. Let us pray God that He send us such a time and make us men of such a sort. If we earnestly pray for it, the new time has come through such praying; for how could we earnestly beseech Him, if He had not already heard us, had He not already set eternity into our hearts through His Spirit?
For a small moment have I forsaken thee; but with great mercies will I gather thee. In overflowing wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment; but with everlasting lovingkindness will I have mercy on thee, saith Jehovah thy Redeemer. For this is as the waters of Noah unto me;