Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about heaven. With the recent tragedies—devastating floods in Texas, the passing of John MacArthur, and loved ones of friends reaching the end of their lives—it’s only natural to reflect on what comes next. In the midst of it all, I found a poem from the early 1800s that brought me peace and perspective about death. In this episode, I share that poem and explore why we’re not meant to live forever.
Welcome to Politics by Faith. Thanks for being here. I've been talking a lot about heaven lately and how awesome it's going to be. So I'll start it with the disaster in Texas, the tragedy in Texas. There's been a few people in my life who have another friend or family member who have passed away, all old age, and just the last couple of weeks here, old age where it's a relief for them
and everyone involved, and a celebration. John MacArthur passing away the other day, we're doing a TV special on him this week, so just heaven dying in heaven has been on my mind a lot lately.
I read a poem the other day
and I have nowhere else to put it. I have to tell people this poem. And I, I don't know, I don't want to spend, I kind of pushed the limits on what we do on SiriusXM as it is kind of outside of politics. So I don't know if I can just sit here and read a poem, maybe a little much, but I just want to put it here and I could put some politics into it.
I could also save it until we have another tragedy, but I haven't stopped thinking about it since I first read it and I just want to share it here because it is written by William Augustus Mullenberg. Should I give a little background to this first? So I bought this book, it was published in 1896 or something. It's called An American Anthology, and it's just poems.
It's thick, it's huge, it's like 1,000 pages, it's just a poem. So every day I've just been opening it up to a different one and this one is early in the book by a guy I've never heard of, William Augustus Mullenberg. He was born in 1796 in Philadelphia,
founder of St. Luke's Hospital in New York City, all according to Wikipedia. He's known as the father of church schools in America. The poem is called, I Would Not Live All Way. Let me read these first two lines and then I'll tell you what I did to make it make sense.
I would not live all way, live all way below. Oh no, I'll not linger when bidden to go. The days of our pilgrimage granted us here are enough for life's woes, full enough for its cheer. I had no idea what that meant. I would not live all way?
What does that mean? It means I don't want to live forever. So it's an old timey way of saying, I don't want to live forever. I don't want to live for always. I don't want to live all way.
No, no. I will not stay here when I'm called to go. The days of our pilgrimage granted us here are enough for life's woes, full enough for its cheer? Would I shrink from the path which the prophets of God, apostles and martyrs so joyfully trod? Like a spirit unblessed over the earth, would I roam while brethren and friends are all hastening home?
What am I?
I'm not going to go to heaven when I'm called to go to heaven. Are you kidding me? I'm just going to roam around here on earth forever? When everyone else is going home? Going home to heaven? No way, I'm out of here.
I would not live all way. I ask not to stay. Where storm after storm rises dark over the way. We're seeking for rest, we but hover around Like the patriarch's bird, and no resting is found. Where hope, when she paints her gay bow in the air,
Leaves its brilliance to fade in the night of despair, And joy's fleeting angel never sheds a glad ray, Save the beam of the plumage that bears him away. I would not live all way, thus fettered by sin, temptation without, and corruption within. Man, it's so good.
I don't wanna be here forever, held down by sin, temptation everywhere around me, corruption everywhere within me. In a moment of strength, if I ever sever the chain, scarce the victory is mine before I'm captive again. Oh, it's so good.
If I'm ever strong enough in a moment where I'm not held by sin, scarce the victory is mine before I'm captive again. Oh, I could fight against this sin for just a moment, but the victory is mine for just an instant before I'm captive again. Oh, I could fight against this sin for just a moment. But the victory is mine for just an instant before I'm captive to sin again.
Even the rapture of pardon is mingled with fears and the cup of thanksgiving with penitent tears. The festival trump calls for jubilant songs, but my spirit her own misery prolongs. I would not live all way. No, welcome the tomb.
Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom. Why would you be afraid of dying? Where he deigned to sleep, I'll too bow my head, all peaceful to slumber on that hallowed bed. Then the glorious daybreak to follow that night, the orient gleam of the angels of light, with their clarion call for the sleepers to rise and chant forth their
matins away to the skies, singing, Who, who would live all way, away from his God? That's the best thing about heaven, see? Who would live all the way away from his God, away from yon heaven, that blissful abode, where the rivers of pleasure flow over the bright plains and the noontide of glory eternally reigns? Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet, their Savior and brethren transported to greet, while the songs of salvation exultingly roll,
and the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul. Man, that makes me wanna go there so bad. That heavenly music, this is the last stanza, that heavenly music, what is it I hear? The notes of the harpers ring sweet in mine ear. And see, soft unfolding, those portals of gold, the king all arrayed in his beauty behold.
O give me, O give me the wings of a dove, to adore him, be near him, enwrapped with his love. I but wait for the summons. I list for the word. Hallelujah. Amen. Evermore with the Lord." Come on. How good is that? It's like, I don't want to live here forever. You know, there's that tech guy, that billionaire guy who's doing everything he can to try to live forever, eating just the precise amount of every particular food.
And he's monitoring every single aspect of his body that he possibly, he's worshiping the body. I mean, this is all ancient pagan stuff. Worshiping the self, worshiping the body. And here's someone with a proper perspective. It's like, no, I don't wanna be here.
This life, it's got enough woes. I'm ready to go to heaven. There's one way to get there. Acts 4.11, there is salvation in no one else besides Jesus. And there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved."
There's only one way. You have to believe that Jesus Christ is the son of God, came down in the flesh to die for your sins, was killed on the cross and then resurrected on the third day. If you believe that, congratulations, that's it.
The five solas. Sola is alone. Grace alone, faith alone, Christ alone, scripture alone, glory to God alone. And you will know that you are doing those things when this poem speaks to you in a powerful way, because this poem is the opposite of what this
world of what the world is trying to tell you. The world wants you to live for this world, for the moment, and this is all there is and all that matters. When the Bible tells you this is but a fleeting moment, eternity is what we need to set our eyes on. Mike Slater.locals.com,
transcript commercial free on the website. Again, the poem, if you want to read it yourself or share it or have it William Augustus Mullenberg, M-U-H-L-E-N-B-E-R-G William Augustus Mullenberg, I would not live all way. Mullenberg, I would not live all way. Mike Slater dot locals.com.