A Sermon
(No. 13)
Delivered on Sabbath Morning, March 11, 1855, by the
REV. C.H. SPURGEON
At Exeter Hall, Strand.
"For as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation also
aboundeth by Christ."–2 Corinthians 1:5.
SEEK ye rest from your distresses ye children of woe and sorrow ? This
is the place where ye may lighten your burden, and lose your cares. Oh,
son of affliction and misery, wouldst thou forget for a time thy pains
and griefs? This is the Bethesda the house of mercy; this is the place
where God designs to cheer thee, and to make thy distresses stay their
never ceasing course; this is the spot where his children love to be
found, because here they find consolation in the midst of tribulation,
joy in their sorrows, and comfort in their afflictions. Even worldly
men admit that there is something extremely comforting in the sacred
Scriptures, and in our holy religion; I have even heard it said of
some, that after they had, by their logic, as they thought, annihilated
Christianity, and proved it to be untrue, they acknowledged that they
had spoilt an excellently comforting delusion, and that they could
almost sit down and weep to think it was not a reality. Ay, my friends,
if it were not true, ye might weep. If the Bible were not the truth of
God–if we could not meet together around his mercy seat, then ye might
put your hands upon your loins and walk about as if ye were in travail.
If ye had not something in the world beside your reason, beside the
fleeting joys of earth–if ye had not something which God had given to
you, some hope beyond the sky, some refuge that should be more than
terrestrial, some deliverance which should be more than earthly, then
ye might weep;–ah! weep your heart out at your eyes, and let your
whole bodies waste away in one perpetual tear. Ye might ask the clouds
to rest on your head, the rivers to roll down in streams from both your
eyes, for your grief would "have need of all the watery things that
nature could produce." But, blessed be God, we have consolation, we
have joy in the Holy Ghost. We find it nowhere else. We have raked the
earth through, but we have discovered ne'er a jewel; we have turned
this dunghill-world o'er and o'er a thousand times, and we have found
nought that is precious; but here, in this Bible, here in the religion
of the blessed Jesus we the sons of God, have found comfort and joy;
while we can truly say, "As our afflictions abound, so our consolations
also abound by Christ."
There are four things in my text to which I invite your attention: the
first is the sufferings to be expected–"The sufferings of Christ
abound in us;" secondly, the distinction to be noticed–they are the
sufferings of Christ; thirdly, a proportion to be experienced–as the
sufferings of Christ abound, so our consolations abound; and fourthly,
the person to be honored–"So our consolation aboundeth by CHRIST."
I. Our first division then is, THE SUFFERINGS TO BE EXCPECTED. Our holy
Apostle says "The sufferings of Christ abound in us." Before we buckle
on the Christian armour we ought to know what that service is which is
expected of us. A recruiting sergeant often slips a shilling into the
hand of some ignorant youth, and tells him that. Her Majesty's Service
is a fine thing, that he has nothing to do but walk about in his
flaming colors, that he will have no hard service–in fact, that he has
nothing to do but to be a soldier, and go straight on to glory. But the
Christian searjeant when he enlists a soldier of the cross, never
deceives him like that. Jesus Christ himself said, "Count the cost." He
wished to have no disciple who was not prepared to go all the way–"to
bear hardness as a good soldier." I have sometimes heard religion
described in such a way that its high coloring displeases me. It is
true "her ways are ways of pleasantness;" but it is not true that a
Christian never has sorrow or trouble. It is true that light-eyed
cheerfulness, and airy-footed love, can go through the world without
much depression: and tribulation: but it is not true that Christianity
will shield a man from trouble; nor ought it to be so represented. In
fact, we ought to speak of it in the other-way. Soldier of Christ, if
thou enlisteth, thou wilt have to do hard battle. There is no bed of
down for thee; there it no riding to heaven in a chariot; the rough way
must be trodden; mountains must be climbed, rivers must be forded,
dragons must be fought, giants must be slain, difficulties must be
overcome, and great trials must be borne. It is not a smooth road to
heaven, believe me; for those who have gone but a very few steps
therein have found it to be a rough one. It is a pleasant one; it is
the most delightful in all the world, but it is not easy in itself; it
is only pleasant because of the company, because of the sweet promises
on which we lean, because of our Beloved who walks with us through all
the rough and thorny brakes of this vast wilderness. Christian, expect
trouble: "Count it not strange concerning the fiery trial, and as
though some strange thing had happened unto thee;" for as truly as thou
art a child of God, thy Saviour hath left thee for his legacy,–"In the
world, ye shall have tribulation; in me ye shall have peace." If I had
no trouble I would not believe myself one of the family. If I never had
a trial I would not think myself a heir of heaven. Children of God must
not, shall not, escape the rod. Earthly parents may spoil their
children but the heavenly Father never shall his. "Whom he loveth he
chasteneth," and scourgeth every son whom he hath chosen. His people
must suffer; therefore, expect it Christian; if thou art a child of God
believe it, look for it, and when it comes, say, "Well suffering, I
foresaw thee; thou art no stranger; I have looked for thee
continually." You cannot tell how much it will lighten your trials, if
you await them with resignation. In fact, make it a wonder if you get
through a day easily. If you remain a week without persecution, think
it a remarkable thing; and if you should, perchance, live a month
without heaving a sigh from your inmost heart, think it a miracle of
miracles. But when the trouble comes, say, "Ah! this is what I looked
for; it is marked in the chart to heaven; the rock is put down; I will
sail confidently by it; my Master has not deceived me."
"Why should I complain of want or distress,
Temptation or pain? he told me no less."
But why must the Christian expect trouble? Why must he expect the
sufferings of Christ to abound in him? Stand here a moment, my brother,
and I will show thee four reasons wherefore thou must endure trial.
First look upward, then look downward, then look around thee, and then
look within thee; and thou wilt see four reasons why the sufferings of
Christ should abound in thee.
Look upward. Dost thou see thy heavenly Father, a pure and holy being,
spotless, just, perfect? Dost thou know that thou art one day to be
like him? Thinkest thou that thou wilt easily come to be conformed to
his image? Wilt thou not require much furnace work, much grinding in
the mill of trouble, much breaking with the pestle in the mortar of
affliction, much being broken under the wheels of agony? Thinkest thou
it will be an easy thing for thy heart to become as pure as God is?
Dost thou think thou canst so soon get rid of thy corruptions, and
become perfect, even as thy Father which is in heaven is perfect?
Lift up thine eye again; dost thou discern those bright spirits clad in
white, purer than alabaster, more chaste, more fair than Parian marble?
Behold them as they stand in glory. Ask them whence their victory came.
Some of them will tell you they swam through seas of blood. Behold the
scars of honor on their brows; see, some of them lift up their hands
and tell you they were once consumed in fire; while others were slain
by the sword, rent in pieces by wild beasts; were destitute afflicted,
tormented. ye noble army of martyrs, ye glorious hosts of the living
God. Must ye swim through seas of blood, and shall I hope to ride to
heaven wrapped in furs and ermine? Did ye endure suffering, and shall I
be pampered with the luxuries of this world? Did ye fight and then
reign, and must I reign without a battle. Oh, no. By God's help I will
expect that as ye suffered so must I, and as through much tribulation
ye entered the kingdom of heaven, so shall I.
Next, Christian, turn thine eyes downward. Dost thou know what foes
thou hast beneath thy feet? There are hell and its lions against thee.
Thou wast once a servant of Satan and no king will willingly lose his
subjects. Dost thou think that Satan be pleased with thee? Why, thou
hast changed thy country. Thou wast once a liege servant of Apollyon,
but now thou art become a good soldier of Jesus Christ; and dost thou
think the devil is pleased with thee? I tell thee nay. If thou hadst
seen Satan the moment thou wast converted, thou wouldst have beheld a
wondrous scene. As soon as thou gavest thy heart to Christ, Satan
spread his bat-like-wings: down he flew into hell, and summoning all
his councilors, he said "Sons of the pit, true heirs of darkness; ye
who erst were clad in light, but who fell with me from high dignities,
another of my servants has forsaken me; I have lost another of my
family; he is gone over to the side of the Lord of Hosts. Oh ye, my
compeers, ye fellow-helpers of the powers of darkness, leave no stone
unturned to destroy him. I bid you all hurl all your fiercest darts at
him; plague him; let hell-dogs bark at him; let fiends besiege him;
give him no rest, harrass him to the death; let the fumes of our
corrupt and burning lake ever rise in his nostrils; persecute him; the
man is a traitor; give him no peace; since I cannot have him here to
bind him in chains of adamant, since I ne'er can have him here to
torment and afflict him, as long as ye can, till his dying day, I bid
you howl at him; until he crosses the river, afflict him, grieve him,
torment him; for the wretch has turned against me, and become a servant
of the Lord." Such may have been the scene in hell, that very day when
thou didst love the Lord. And dost thou think Satan loves thee better
now? Ah! no. He will always be at thee, for thine enemy, "like a
roaring lion, goeth about seeking whom he may devour." Expect trouble
therefore, Christian, when thou lookest beneath thee.
Then, man of God, look around thee. Do not be asleep. Open thine eyes,
and look around thee. Where art thou? Is that man a friend next to
thee? No; thou art in an enemy's country. This is a wicked world. Half
the people, I suppose, profess to be irreligious, and those who profess
to be pious, often are not. "Cursed is he that trusteth in man and
maketh flesh his arm."–Blessed is he that trusteth in the Lord, and
whose hope the Lord is."–"As for men of low degree, they are vanity;"
the voice of the crowd is not worth having; and as for "men of high
degree, they are a lie," which is worse still. The world is not to be
trusted in, not to be relied upon. The true Christian treads it beneath
his feet, with "all that earth calls good or great." Look around thee
my brother; thou wilt see some good hearts, strong and valiant; thou
wilt see some true souls, sincere and honest; thou wilt see some
faithful lovers of Christ; but I tell thee O child of light, that where
thou meetest one sincere man, thou wilt meet twenty hypocrites; where
thou wilt find one that will lead thee to heaven, thou wilt find a
score who would push thee to hell. Thou art in a land of enemies, not
of friends. Never believe the world is good for much. Many people have
burned their fingers by taking hold of it. Many a man has been injured
by putting his hand into a nest of the rattlesnake–the world; thinking
that the dazzling hues of the sleeping serpent were securities from
harm. O Christian! the world is not thy friend. If it is, then thou art
not God's friend; for he who is the friend of the world is the enemy of
God; and he who is despised of men, is often loved of Jehovah. Thou art
in an enemy's country, man: therefore, expect trouble: expect that the
man who "eats thy bread will lift up his heel against thee;" expect
that thou shalt be estranged from those that love thee; be assured that
since thou art in the land of the foe, thou shalt find foemen
everywhere. When thou sleepest, think that thou sleepest on the
battle-field; when thou walkest believe that there is an ambush in
every hedge. Oh! take heed, take heed: this is no good world to shut
thine eyes in. Look around thee, man; and when thou art upon the
watch-tower, reckon surely that trouble cometh.
. But then, look within thee. There is a little world in here, which is
quite enough to give us trouble. A Roman once said he wished he had a
window to his heart, that all people might see what was going on there.
I am very glad I have not; if I had I would shut it up as closely as
Apsley House used to be; I would take care to have all the shutters up.
Most of us would have great need of shutters if we had such a window.
However, for one moment, peep into the window of thine heart, to
observe what is there. Sin is there–original sin and corruption; and
what is more, self is still within. Ah! if thou hadst no devil to tempt
thee, thou wouldest tempt thyself; it there were no enemies to fight
thee, thyself would be thy worst foe; if there were no world, still thy
self would be bad enough; for "the heart is deceitful above all things,
and desperately wicked." Look within thee, believer; know that thou
bearest a cancer in thy very vitals; that thou carriest within thee a
bomb-shell, ready to burst at the slightest spark of temptation; know
that thou hast inside thy heart an evil thing, a coiled-up viper, ready
to sting thee and bring thee into trouble, and pain, and misery
unutterable. Take heed of your heart, Christian; and when thou findest
sorrow, trouble, and care, look within and say, "Verily, I may well
receive this, considering the evil heart of unbelief which I carry
about with me." Now dost thou see, brother Christian? No hope to escape
trouble, is there. What shall we do then? There is no chance for us. We
must bear suffering and affliction; therefore, let us endure it
cheerfully. Some of us are the officers in God's regiments, and we are
the mark of all the riflemen of the enemy. Standing forward, we have to
bear all the shots. What a mercy it is that not one of God's officers
ever fall in battle! God always keeps them. When the arrows fly fast,
the shield of faith catches them all; and when the enemy is most angry,
God is most pleased. So, for aught we care, the world may go on, the
devil may revile, flesh may rise; "for we are more than conquerors
through him that hath loved us." Therefore, all honor be unto God
alone. Expect suffering–this is our first point.
II. Now, secondly, there is A DISTINCTION TO BE NOTICED. Our sufferings
are said to be the sufferings of Christ. Now, suffering in itself is
not an evidence of Christianity. There are many people who have trials
and troubles who are not children of' God. I have heard some poor
whining people come and say, "I know I am a child of God because I am
in debt, because I am in poverty, because I am in trouble." Do you
indeed? I know a great many rascals in the same condition; and I don't
believe you are a child of God any the more because you happen to be in
poor circumstances. There are abundance who are in trouble and distress
besides God's children. It is not the peculiar lot of God's family; and
if I had no other ground of my hope as a Christian, except my
experience of trials, I should have but very poor ground indeed. But
there is a distinction to be noticed. Are these sufferings the
sufferings of Christ, or are they not? A man is dishonest, and is put
in jail for it; a man is a coward and men hiss at him for it; a man is
insincere, and, therefore, persons avoid him. Yet he says he is
persecuted. Persecuted! Not at all; it serves him right. He deserves
it. But such persons will comfort themselves with the thought, that
they are "the dear people of God," because other people avoid them;
when it so happens that they just deserve it. They do not live as they
ought to do; therefore the world's punishment is their desert. Take
heed, beloved, that your sufferings are true sufferings of Christ; be
sure they are not your own sufferings; for if they are, you will get no
relief. It is only when they are the sufferings of Jesus that we may
take comfort.
"Well," you say, "What is meant by our sufferings being the sufferings
of Christ?" You know the word "Christ" in the Bible sometimes means the
whole Church with Christ, as in 1 Cor. xii.12, and several other
passages which I cannot just now remember; but you will call to mind a
scripture where it says, "I fill up that which is behind of the
sufferings of Christ, for his body's sake, which is the Church." Now,
as Christ, the head, had a certain amount of suffering to endure, so
the body must also have a certain weight laid upon it. Our afflictions
are the sufferings of Christ mystical, the sufferings of Christ's body,
the sufferings of Christ's church; for you know that if a man could be
so tall as to have his head in heaven and his feet at the bottom of the
sea, it would be the same body, and the head would feel the sufferings
of the feet. So, though my head is in heaven, and I am on earth, my
griefs are Christ's griefs; my trials are Christ's trials, my
afflictions, he suffers.
"I feel at my heart all thy sighs and thy groans,
For thou art most near me, my flesh and my bones;
In all thy distresses, thy Head feels the pain,
Yet all are most needful, not one is in vain."
The trials of a true Christian are as much the sufferings of Christ, as
the agonies of Calvary.
Still you say, "We want to discern whether our troubles are the trials
of Christ." Well, they are the trials of Christ, if you suffer for
Christ's sake. If you are called to endure hardness for the sake of the
truth, then those are the sufferings of Christ. If you suffer for your
own sake, it may be a punishment for your own sins; but if you endure
for Christ's sake, then they are the trials of Christ. "But," say some,
"is there any persecution now-a-days? Do any Christians have to suffer
for Christ's sake now?" Suffer, sirs! Yes. "I could a tale unfold" this
morning, if I pleased, of bigotry insufferable, of persecution well
nigh as bad as that in the days of Mary; only our foes have not the
power and the law on their side. I could tell you of some who, from the
simple fact, that they choose to come and hear this despised young man,
this ranting fellow, are to be looked upon as the offscouring of all
things. Many are the persons who come to me, who have to lead a
miserable and unhappy life, simply because from my lips they heard the
word of truth. Still, despite of all that is said, they will hear it
now. I have, I am sure, many before me, whose eyes would drop with
tears, if I were to tell their history–some who have privately sent me
word of how they have to suffer for Christ's sake, because they choose
to hear whom they please. Why, is it not time that men should choose to
do as they like. If I do not care to do just as other ministers do,
have not I a right to preach as I please? If I havn't I will–that is
all. And have not other parties a right to hear me if they like,
without asking the lords and governors of the present day, whether the
man is really clerical or not. Liberty! liberty! Let persons do as they
please. But liberty–where is it? Ye say it is in Britain. It is, in a
measure, but not thoroughly. However, I rejoice that there are some who
say, "Well, my soul is profited: and let men say what they will, I will
hold hard and fast to truth, and to the place where I hear the word to
my soul's edification." So, dear hearts, go on, go on; and if ye suffer
for Christ's sake, they are Christ's sufferings. If ye came here simply
because ye gained anything by it, then your sufferings would be your
own; but since there is nothing to gain but the profit of our own
souls, still hold on; and whate'er is said, your persecution will but
win you a brighter crown in glory.
Ah! Christian, this ennobles us. My brethren, this makes us proud and
happy to think that our trials are the trials of Jesus. Oh! I think it
must have been some honor to the old soldier, who stood by the Iron
Duke in his battles, to be able to say, "We fight under the good old
Duke, who has won so many battles: and when he wins, part of the honor
will be ours." Christian, thou fightest side by side with Jesus; Christ
is with thee; every blow is a blow aimed at Christ; every slander is a
slander on Christ; the battle is the Lord's; the triumph is the Lord's,
therefore, still on to victory! I remember a story of a great
commander, who, having won many glorious victories, led his troops into
a defile, and when there, a large body of the enemy entirely surrounded
him. He knew a battle was inevitable on the morning, he therefore went
round to all the tents, to hear in what condition his soldier's minds
were–whether they were dispirited or not. He came to one tent, and as
he listened, he heard a man say, "There is our general; he is very
brave, but he is very unwise this time; he has led us into a place
where we are sure to be beaten; there are so many of the enemy's
cavalry, so many infantry:" and then the man counted up all the troops
on their own side, and made them only so many. Then the commander,
after he had heard the tale, gently drew aside a part of the tent, and
said, "How many do you count me for? You have counted the infantry and
cavalry; but how many do you count me for–me, your mighty captain, who
have won so many victories." Now, Christian, I say, how many do you
count one? He is not one, nor a thousand: he is the "chief among ten
thousand." But he is more than that. Oh! put him down for a high
figure; and when thou countest up thine aids and auxiliaries, put down
Christ for all in all, for in him victory is certain–the triumph is
secure.
III. Our third point is, A PROPORTION TO BE EXPERIENCED. As the
sufferings of Christ abound in us so the consolations of Christ abound.
Here is a blessed proportion. God always keeps a pair of scales–in
this side he puts his people's trials and in that he puts their
consolations. When the scale of trial is nearly empty, you will always
find the scale of consolation in nearly the same condition; and when
the scale of trials is full, you will find the scale of consolation
just as heavy for as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, even so
shall consolation abound by Christ. This is a matter of pure
experience. Some of you do not know anything at all about it. You are
not Christians, you are not born again, you are not converted; ye are
unregenerate, and, therefore, ye have never realized this wonderful
proportion between the sufferings and the consolations of a child of
God. Oh! it is mysterious that, when the black clouds gather most, the
light within us is always the brightest. When the night lowers and the
tempest is coming on, the heavenly captain is always closest to his
crew. It is a blessed thing, when we are most cast down, then it is
that we are most lifted up by the consolations of Christ. Let me show
you how.
The first reason is, because trials make more room, for consolation.
There is nothing makes a man have a big heart like a great trial. I
always find that little, miserable people, whose hearts are about the
size of a grain of mustard-seed, never have had much to try them. I
have found that those people who have no sympathy for their
fellows–who never weep for the sorrows of others–very seldom have had
any woes of their own. Great hearts can only be made by great troubles.
The spade of trouble digs the reservoir of comfort deeper, and makes
more room for consolation. God comes into our heart–he finds it
full–he begins to break our comforts and to make it empty; than there
is more room for grace. The humbler a man lies, the more comfort he
will always have. I recollect walking with a ploughman one day–a man
who was deeply taught, although he was a ploughman; and really
ploughmen would make a great deal better preachers than many college
gentlemen–and he said to me, "Depend upon it, my good brother, if you
or I ever get one inch above the ground, we shall get just that inch
too high." I believe it is true; for the lower we lie, the nearer to
the ground we are–the more our troubles humble us–the more fit we are
to receive comfort; and God always gives us comfort when we are most
fit for it. That is one reason why consolations increase in the same
ratio as our trials.
Then again, trouble exercises our graces, and the very exercise of our
graces tends to make us more comfortable and happy. Where showers fall
most, there the grass is greenest. I suppose the fogs and mists of
Ireland make it "the Emerald Isle;" and wherever you find great fogs of
trouble, and mists of sorrow, you always find emerald green hearts:
full of the beautiful verdure of the comfort and love of God. O
Christian, do not thou be saying, "Where are the swallows gone? they
are gone: they are dead." They are not dead; they have skimmed the
purple sea, and gone to a far off land; but they will be back again
by-and-by. Child of God, say not the flowers are dead; say not the
winter has killed them, and they are gone. Ah! no; though winter hath
coated them with the ermine of its snow; they will put up their heads
again, and will be alive very soon. Say not, child of God, that the sun
is quenched, because the cloud hath hidden it. Ah! no; he is behind
there, brewing summer for thee; for when he cometh out again, he will
have made the clouds fit to drop in April showers, all of them mothers
of the sweet May flowers. And oh! above all, when thy God hides his
face, say not, that he has forgotten thee. He is but tarrying a little
while to make thee love him better; and when he cometh, thou shalt have
joy in the Lord, and. shalt rejoice with joy unspeakable. Waiting,
exercises our grace; waiting, tries our faith; therefore, wait on in
hope; for though the promise tarry, it can never come too late.
Another reason why we are often most happy in our troubles is
this–then we have the closest dealing with God. I speak from heart
knowledge and real experience. We never have such close dealings with
God as when we are in tribulation. When the barn is full, man can live
without God; when the purse is bursting with gold, we somehow can do
without so much prayer. But once take your gourds away, you want your
God; once cleanse away the idols out of the house, then you must go and
honor Jehovah. Some of you do not pray half as much as you ought. If
you are the children of God, you will have the whip, and when you have
that whip, you will run to your Father. It is a fine day, and the child
walks before its father; but there is a lion in the road, now he comes
and takes his father's hand. He could run half-a-mile before him when
all was fine and fair; but once bring the lion, and it is "father!
father!" as close as he can be. It is even so with the Christian. Let
all be well, and he forgets God. Jeshurun waxes fat, and he begins to
kick against God; but take away his hopes, blast his joys, let the
infant lie in the coffin, let the crops be blasted, let the herd be cut
off from the stall, let the husband's broad shoulder lie in the grave,
let the children be fatherless–then it is that God is a God indeed.
Oh, strip me naked; take from me all I have; make me poor, a beggar,
penniless, helpless: dash that cistern in pieces; crush that hope;
quench the stars; put out the sun; shroud the moon in darkness, and
place me all alone in space, without a friend, without a helper; still,
"Out of the depths will I cry unto thee, O God." There is no cry so
good as that which comes from the bottom of the mountains; no prayer
half so hearty as that which comes up from the depths of the soul,
through deep trials and afflictions. Hence they bring us to God, and we
are happier; for that is the way to be happy–to live near to God. So
that while troubles abound, they drive us to God, and then consolations
abound.
Some people call troubles weights. Verily they are so. A ship that has
large sails and a fair wind, needs ballast. Troubles are the ballast of
a believer. The eyes are the pumps which fetch out the bilge-water of
his soul, and keep him from sinking. But if trials be weights I will
tell you of a happy secret. There is such a thing as making a weight
lift you. If I have a weight chained to me, it keeps me down; but give
me pulleys and certain appliances, and I can make it lift me up. Yes,
there is such a thing as making troubles raise me towards heaven. A
gentlemen once asked a friend, concerning a beautiful horse of his,
feeding about in the pasture with a clog on its foot, "Why do you clog
such a noble animal?" "Sir," said he, "I would a great deal sooner clog
him than lose him: he is given to leap hedges." That is why God clogs
his people. He would rather clog them than lose them; for if he did not
clog them, they would leap the hedges and be gone. They want a tether
to prevent their straying, and their God binds them with afflictions,
to keep them near to him, to preserve them, and have them in his
presence. Blessed fact–as our troubles abound, our consolations also
abound.
IV. Now we close up with our last point; and may the Holy Ghost once
more strengthen me to speak a word or two to you. THERE IS A PERSON TO
BE HONOURED. It is a fact that Christians can rejoice in deep distress;
it is a truth, that put them in prison, and they still will sing; like
many birds, they sing best in their cages. It is true that when waves
roll over them, their soul never sinks. It is true they have a buoyancy
about them which keeps their heads always above the water, and helps
them to sing in the dark, dark night, "God is with me still." But to
whom shall we give the honor? To whom shall the glory be given? Oh! to
Jesus, to Jesus; for the text says it is all by Jesus. It is not
because I am a Christian that I get joy in my trouble–not necessarily
so; it is not always the fact that troubles bring their consolations;
but it is Christ who comes to me. I am sick in my chamber; Christ
cometh up stairs, he sitteth by my bedside, and he talketh sweet words
to me. I am dying; the chilly cold waters of Jordan have touched my
foot, I feel my blood stagnate and freeze. I must die; Christ puts his
arms around me, and says, "Fear not, beloved; to die is to be blessed;
the waters of death have their fountain head in heaven; they are not
bitter, they are sweet as nectar, for they flow from the throne of
God." I wade in the stream, the billows gather around me, I feel that
my heart and flesh fail but there is the same voice in my ears, "Fear
not, I am with thee! be not dismayed; I am thy God." Now, I come to the
borders of the infinite unknown, that country "from whose bourne no
traveller returns;" I stand almost affrighted to enter the realm of
shades; but a sweet voice says, "I will be with thee whithersoever thou
goest; if thou shouldst make thy bed in Hades I will be with thee;" and
I still go on, content to die, for Jesus cheers me; he is my
consolation and my hope. Ah! ye who know not that matchless name,
Jesus, ye have lost the sweetest note which e'er can give melody. Ah!
ye who have never been entranced by the precious sonnet contained in
that one word Jesu, ye who know not that Jesu means, I-ES-U, ("I ease
you"); ye have lost the joy and comfort of your lives, and ye must live
miserable and unhappy. But the Christian can rejoice, since Christ will
never forsake him, never leave him, but will be with him.
A word or two to characters–First, I have a word with you who are
expecting troubles, and are very sad because you are looking forward to
them. Take the advice of the common people, and "never cross a bridge
till you get to it." Follow my advice: never bring your troubles nearer
than they are, for they will be sure to come down upon you soon enough.
I know that many persons fret themselves about their trials before they
come. What on earth is the good of it? If you will show me any benefit
in it, I will say go on; but to me it seems quite enough for the Father
to lay the rod on the child without the child chastising itself. Why
should you do so? You, who are afraid of trouble, why should you be so?
The trial may never overtake you; and if it does come, strength will
come with it. Therefore, up with thee, man, who are sitting down
groaning, because of forebodings.
"Religion never was designed
To make our pleasures less."
Out on thee! Up! up! Why wilt thou sit down and be frozen to death?
When trouble comes, then fight it; with manful heart and strong, plunge
into the stream, accoutred as thou art, and swim it through; but oh! do
not fear it before it comes.
Then Christian in trouble, I have a word to say with thee. So my
brother, thou art in trouble; thou art come into the waves of afflitio,
art thou? No strange thing, is it brother? Thou hast been there many
times before. "Ah," but sayest thou, "this is the worst I ever had. I
have come up here this morning with a millstone round my neck; I have a
mine of lead in my heart: I am miserable, I am unhappy, I am cast down
exceedingly." Well, but brother, as thy troubles abound, so shall thy
consolation. Brother, hast thou hung thy harp upon the willows? I am
glad thou hast not broken the harp altogether. Better, to hang it on
the willows than to break it; be sure not to break it. Instead of being
distressed about thy trouble, rejoice in it; thou wilt then honor God,
thou wilt glorify Christ, thou wilt bring sinners to Jesus, if thou
wilt sing in the depths of trouble, for then they will say, "There must
be something in religion after all, otherwise the man would not be so
happy."
Then one word with you who are almost driven to despair. I would
stretch my hands out, if I could, this morning–for I believe a
preacher ought to be a Briareus, with a thousand hands to fetch out his
hearers one by one, and speak to them. There is a man here quite
despairing–almost every hope gone. Brother, shall I tell thee what to
do? Thou hast fallen off the main deck, thou art in the sea, the floods
surround thee; thou seemest to have no hope; thou catchest at straws;
what shalt thou do now? Do? why lie upon the sea of trouble, and float
upon it; be still, and know that God is God, and thou wilt never
perish. All thy kicking and struggling will sink thee deeper; but lie
still, for behold the life-boat cometh; Christ is coming to thy help;
soon he will deliver thee, and fetch thee out of all thy perplexities.
Lastly, some of you have no interest in this sermon at all. I never try
to deceive my hearers by making them believe that all I say belongs to
all who hear me. There are different characters in God's word; it is
yours to search your own hearts this day, and see whether ye are God's
people, or not. As the Lord liveth, before whom I stand, there are two
classes here. I do not own the distinction of aristocratic and
democratic; in my sight, and in God's sight, every man is alike. We are
made of one flesh and blood; we do not have china gentlemen and
earthenware poor people; we are all made of the same mould of fashion.
There is one distinction, and only one. Ye are all either the children
of God, or children of the devil; ye are all either born again, or dead
in trespasses and sins. It is yours to let the question ring in your
ears: "Where am I? Is yon black tyrant, with his fiery sword, my king;
or do I own Jehovah-Jesus as my strength, my shield, my Saviour?" I
shall not force you to answer it; I shall not say anything to you about
it. Only answer it yourselves; let your hearts speak; let your souls
speak. All I can do is to propose the question. God apply it to your
souls! I beseech him to send it home! and make the arrow stick fast!
"Is Jesus mine! I am now prepared,
To meet with what I thought most hard;
Yes, let the winds of trouble blow,
And comforts melt away like snow,
No blasted trees, nor failing crops,
Can hinder my eternal hopes;
Tho' creatures change, the Lord's the same;
Then let me triumph in his name.