Who is the king of terrors

The bitterness of death has passed before death itself has been reached. Still there is suffering at the end of most lives, and we instinctively shrink from this. We cannot bring ourselves to face the thought of the death-struggle. It takes us from all the light and joy of earth. The natural love of life is confirmed by experience.

To die is "to lie in cold obstruction. The soul is severed from its earthly delights. It comes to each singly. Each soul must venture alone into the dread unknown. It ushers us into future judgment.

Christ dethrones the king of terrors, and wrests his dark kingdom away, flooding it with the light of his grace. Dumb as the night, that terrifying silence! The very fact that it will be the inevitable result of what we are has its terrors as much as its consolations. What will show itself to be the issue of our days on earth?

Who can say? And therefore it is a fearful thing to go out into the night alone, carrying the irrevocable past — to be changed we know not how, to remain in our alarming identity through the change, to be ourselves for ever and ever under unimaginable conditions which no experience enables us to anticipate or forestall. Dreadful, the darkness, the silence of the unknown adventure.

We know nothing of what will befall. Only we know that all which is already ours, by living experience, by intimate attachment, will be gone. The warmth of the present companionship, the comfort of familiar habits, the loving intimacy of deep and dear associations, the tender presence of this fond earth, the joy, the love, the hands that touch, the voices that charm, the hearts that beat. They must be surrendered. We go out stripped of all that has made us intelligible to ourselves, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be.

Death, then, must retain its terror, even though it is but a stage in our growth, the terror of the unknown, the terror of loss, the terror of finality to what have been hitherto the movements of our very life.

Yet, beloved, if we recall the idea of growth, then we can afford to be in ignorance of what lies ahead; we can afford to live solely in the present hour. We can afford to be stripped of our earthly investiture, and go out into the naked silence of the beyond, because still through being sons of God we have secured to us the very powers which will avail us in the untravelled land.

We are already equipped with all that we can ever need. We shall hold in our hands the resources which will justify themselves under these strange conditions in the unseen world. We can never be found wanting if we are true to ourselves.

We can never fail over these if we cling to what God has already given. The method by which we control life here and now is the very method which will hold good there. The strength which is now our stay will prove itself still our strength there. We shall use the same forces, we shall rely on the same assurances, we shall feed on the same food, we shall grow by the same process, we shall follow the same laws, we shall pray the same prayers, we shall rejoice in the same hopes, we shall speak the same language.

All that is ours now will be ours then. For we are already sons of God; already we are in Jesus; already we are of His Body; already we live by His life and taste His pardon and His peace. The Jesus whom we see and know now, is the Jesus whom we shall still see and know then; only, since we shall see Him nearer we shall grow more like Him; since we shall know Him better, we shall be more closely conformed to His image.

Why should we be afraid of the great venture? We have Jesus now, and even now we can make ourselves more ready to draw closer to Him. We can begin to purify ourselves even as He is pure, to make ourselves more utterly His in the sure hope that at last we shall see Him as He is.

Brethren, today these two moods which we have rehearsed are peculiarly ours— the mood of violent recoil, the mood of quiet continuity. Today the white light of Pentecost pours itself around us, and we know ourselves to be in the possession of the first fruits of the Spirit. Yet the white light breaks itself against the blackness of a closed coffin, flung up before the eyes of all, to embody the irreparable disaster of a death which has touched the very heart of our National life.

Sinister and silent the coffin lies there in the sunlight, and its very pomp of state makes its silence more sinister yet. We shall creep around it in dismay as it lies in Westminster Hall. Is this all that is left? Is this the end of that royal splendour of life? Ah, then death is a dreadful thing. It is blind. It is dumb. It is stupid. What does it hold in it? For a change it most certainly will be. What purging?

What cleansing? How much of ourselves that is now part and parcel of our nature must go, must be cut away, if we are ever to be like Him? Can you and I bear so to see Him? Dare we make the awful venture? Who can endure such a sight and not die? Who would not shrink from so fierce a test? So this unknown experience which awaits us on the far side is charged with the terror of the unknown.

We flinch from it as we look merely at the isolated coffin awaiting its last burial, the symbol of disaster. Oh that we might be left inside the familiar conditions that are ours already! They may not be wholly good, but at least they are known. They are our own.

We must cling to them with the desperation of habit. As for the far beyond, it may have its wonder and its joys. But we cannot be sure. So that black coffin harbours its black secret. But over it and round it and about it the light of Whitsuntide sweeps in to scatter all our fears. Why are we afraid? Have we not the gift of the Spirit? Has it not swept in upon us with a mighty wind?

Is it not in our heart as a fire? Surely it has become our very own possession, one with our very life. And the Spirit which we now possess is itself the Life of all Life, the Life of the Life beyond death. It is the Eternal Life of God. And yet it is here, as our earnest of the hereafter, as our pledge and guerdon of all that must follow. What will follow we know not. We look into the grave and inquire anxiously. Does he still exist in a conscious state? We consult the oracle of reason, but there is no satisfactory response; she mutters some ambiguous and uncertain answer, but casts no light on the darkness of the grave.

Oh, how awful, to be obliged to go down into a world of darkness--not knowing where we are going, or what is our destiny! This obscurity is not all that terrifies; there is something far worse.

This king of terrors comes armed with a tremendous sting. In the gaiety and bustle of life, men may drown the voice of conscience; or by repeated violations of its dictates, men may enjoy temporary ease; but when death comes near, the voice of the monitor within sounds an alarm. The guilty soul would give worlds to be delivered from the stings of conscience.

Nothing so corrodes the soul with anguish indescribable as remorse. A celebrated statesman and orator of our own country, when arrested by this king of terrors, wrote on a card this awful word, 'remorse', and nothing more, and then died. Hayley Australian. Natasha Australian. Veena Indian. Priya Indian. Neerja Indian.

Zira US English. Oliver British. Wendy British. Fred US English. Tessa South African. How to say king of terrors in sign language? Numerology Chaldean Numerology The numerical value of king of terrors in Chaldean Numerology is: 6 Pythagorean Numerology The numerical value of king of terrors in Pythagorean Numerology is: 4.