A Mystery! Saints Sorrowing and Jesus Glad!
A Sermon
(No. 585)
Delivered on Sunday Morning, August 7th, 1864, by the
Rev. C. H. SPURGEON,
At the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington
"Then said Jesus unto them plainly, Lazarus is dead. And I am glad for
your sakes that I was not there, to the intent ye may believe;
nevertheless let us go unto him"–John 11:14-15.
There lived in the little village of Bethany a very happy family. There
was neither father nor mother in it: the household consisted of the
unmarried brother Eleazar, or Lazarus, and his sisters, Martha and
Mary, who dwelt together in unity so good and pleasant that there the
Lord commanded the blessing, even life for evermore. This affectionate
trio were all lovers of the Lord Jesus Christ, and were frequently
favoured with His company. They kept open house whenever the Great
Teacher came that way. Both for the Master and for the disciples there
was always a table, a bed, and a candlestick in the prophet's chamber,
and sometimes sumptuous feasts were prepared for the whole company.
They were very happy, and rejoiced much to think that they could be
serviceable to the necessities of one so poor, and yet so honoured as
the Lord Jesus. But, alas! affliction cometh everywhere; virtue may
sentinel the door, but grief is not to be excluded from the homestead.
"Man is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward;" if the fuel be a
log of sweet-smelling sandal wood, yet the sparks must rise, and even
so the best of families must feel affliction. Lazarus sickens. It is a
mortal sickness beyond the power of physicians. What is the first
thought of the sisters but to send for their friend Jesus? They know
that one word from His lips will restore their brother: there is no
absolute need that He should even risk His safety by a journey to
Bethany; He has but to speak the word and their brother shall be made
whole. With glowing hopes and moderated anxieties, they send a tender
message to Jesus–"Lord, behold, he whom Thou lovest is sick." Jesus
hears it, and sends back the answer which had much comfort in it, but
could hardly compensate for His own absence: "This sickness is not unto
death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified
thereby." There lies poor Lazarus after the message is come; he does
not recover; he is a little more cheerful, because he hears that his
sickness is not unto death, but his pains do not abate; the clammy
death-sweat gathers on his brow; his tongue is dry; he is full of pains
and racked with anguish, at last he passes through the iron gate of
death, and there lies his corpse before the weeping sisters' eyes. Why
was not Jesus there? Why did He not come? Tender hearted as He always
was, what could have made Him thus unkind? Why tarrieth He so? Why is
He so long in coming? How can His words be true? He said, "This
sickness is not unto death"; and there lies the good man cold in death,
and the mourners are gathering for the funeral. Look at Martha! She has
been sitting up every night watching her poor brother; no care could
have been more constant, no tenderness more excessive. There is no
potion in the range of her housewifery which she has not compounded;
this herb and the other she has gathered, and she has administered all
sorts of medicinal drinks and nourishing foods; and anxiously has she
watched until her eyes are red for want of sleep. Jesus might have
spared her all this. Why did He not? He had only to will it, and the
flush of health would have returned to the cheek of Lazarus, and there
would have been no more need of this weary nursing, and this killing
watchfulness. What is Jesus doing? Martha was willing to serve Him,
will He not serve her? She has even cumbered herself about much-serving
for His sake, giving Him not only necessaries but dainties, and will He
not give her what is so desirable to her heart, so essential to her
happiness–her brother's life? How is it He can send her a promise
which He doth not seem to keep, and tantalize her with hope, and cast
down her faith? As for Mary, she has been sitting still at her
brother's side, listening to his dying words, repeating in his ear the
gracious words of Jesus which she had been wont to hear when she sat at
His feet, catching the last accents of her expiring brother, thinking
less about the medicine and about the diet than Martha did, but
thinking more about his spiritual health and about his soul's
enjoyment. She has endeavoured to stay the sinking spirits of her
beloved brother with words like these, "He will come; He may wait, but
I know Him, His heart is very kind, He will come at the last; and even
if He let thee sleep in death it will be but for a little; He raised
the widow's son at the gates of Nain, He will surely raise thee whom He
loves far more. Have ye not heard how He wakened the daughter of
Jairus? Brother, He will come and quicken thee, and we shall have many
happy hours yet, and we shall have this as a special love-token from
our Master and our Lord, that He raised thee from the dead." But why,
why was she not spared those bitter tears which ran scalding down her
cheeks when she saw that her brother was really dead? She could not
believe it. She kissed his forehead, and oh! how cold was that marble
brow! She lifted up his hand–"He cannot be dead," said she, "for Jesus
said this sickness was not unto death;" but the hand fell nerveless by
her side: her brother was really a corpse, and putrefaction soon set
in, and then she knew that the beloved clay was not exempt from all the
dishonour which decay brings to the human body. Poor Mary! Jesus loved
thee, it is said, but this is a strange way of showing His love. Where
is He? Miles away He lingers. He knows thy brother is sick; yea, He
knows that he is dead, and yet He abides still where He is. Oh!
sorrowful mystery that the pity of such a tender Saviour should sink so
far below their plumb-line to gauge, or His mercy should range so high
beyond their power to reach.
Jesus is talking of the death of His friend, let us listen to His
words; perhaps we may find the key to His actions in the words of His
lips. How surprising! He does not say, "I regret that I have tarried so
long." He does not say, "I ought to have hastened, but even now it is
not too late." Hear, and marvel! Wonder of wonders, He says, "I am glad
that I was not there." Glad! the word is out of place? Lazarus, by this
time, stinketh in his tomb, and here is the Saviour glad! Martha and
Mary are weeping their eyes out for sorrow, and yet their friend Jesus
is glad! It is strange, it is passing strange! However, we may rest
assured that Jesus knoweth better than we do, and our faith may
therefore sit still and try to spell out His meaning, where our reason
cannot find it at the first glance. "I am glad," saith He, "for your
sakes that I was not there, to the intent ye may believe." Ah! we see
it now: Christ is not glad because of sorrow, but only on account of
the result of it. He knew that this temporary trial would help His
disciples to a greater faith, and He so prizes their growth in faith
that He is even glad of the sorrow which occasions it. He does as good
as say, "I am glad for your sakes that I was not there to prevent the
trouble, for now that it is come, it will teach you to believe in me,
and this shall be much better for you than to have been spared the
affliction."
We have thus plainly before us the principle, that our Lord in His
infinite wisdom and superabundant love, sets so high a value upon His
people's faith, that He will not screen them from those trials by which
faith is strengthened. Let us try to press the wine of consolation from
the cluster of the text. In three cups we will preserve the goodly
juice as it flows forth from the winepress of meditation. First of all,
brethren, Jesus Christ was glad that the trial had come, for the
strengthening of the faith of the apostles; secondly, for strengthening
the faith of the family; and thirdly, for giving faith to others; for
you find by the forty-fifth verse that the goblet passed round to
sympathizing friends–"Many of the Jews which came to Mary, and had
seen the things which Jesus did, believed on Him."
I. Jesus Christ designed the death of Lazarus and his
after-resurrection FOR THE STRENGTHENING OF THE FAITH OF THE APOSTLES.
This acted two ways: not only would the trial itself tend to strengthen
their faith; but the remarkable deliverance which Christ gave to them
out of it would certainly minister to the growth of their confidence in
Him.
1. Let us at once observe that the trial itself would certainly tend to
increase the apostle's faith. Faith untried may be true faith, but it
is sure to be little faith. I believe in the existence of faith in men
who have no trials, but that is as far as I can go. I am persuaded,
brethren, that where there is no trial faith just draws breath enough
to live, but that is all; for faith, like the fabled salamander, has
fire for its native element. Faith never prospers so well as when all
things are against her: tempests are trainers, and the lightnings are
her illuminators. When a calm reigns on the sea, spread the sails as
you will, the ship moves not to its harbour; for on a slumbering ocean
the keel sleeps too. Let the winds come howling forth, and let the
waters lift up themselves, then, though the vessel may rock, and her
deck may be washed with waves, and her mast may creak under the
pressure of the full and swelling sail, yet it is then that she makes
headway towards her desired haven. No flowers wear so lovely a blue as
those which grow at the foot of the frozen glacier; no stars so bright
as those which glisten in the polar sky; no water so sweet as that
which springs amid the desert sand; and no faith so precious as that
which lives and triumphs in adversity. Thus saith the Lord, by the
mouth of the prophet, "I will leave in the midst of thee an afflicted
and poor people, and they shall trust in the name of the Lord." Now,
why afflicted and poor? Because there is an adaptation in the afflicted
and poor among the Lord's people, to trust in the Lord. He does not
say, "I will leave in the midst of thee a prosperous and rich people,
and they shall trust." No! these scarcely seem to have such capacity
for faith as the afflicted ones have. Rather I will leave in the midst
of thee an afflicted and poor people, and they, by reason of their very
affliction and poverty, shall be the more graciously disposed to repose
their faith in the Lord. Untried faith is always small in stature; and
it is likely to remain dwarfish so long as it is without trials. There
is no room in the placid pools of ease for faith to gain leviathan
proportions, she must dwell in the stormy sea if she would be one of
the chief of the ways of God. Tried faith brings experience; and every
one of you who are men and women of experience, must know that
experience makes religion become more real to you. You never know
either the bitterness of sin or the sweetness of pardon, till you have
felt both. You never know your own weakness till you have been
compelled to go through the rivers, and you would never have known
God's strength had you not been supported amid the water-floods. All
the talk about religion which is not based upon an experience of it, is
mere talk. If we have little experience, we cannot speak so positively
as those can whose experience has been more deep and profound. Once
when I was preaching upon the faithfulness of God in time of trial in
the earlier days of my ministry, my venerable grandfather was sitting
in the pulpit behind me; he suddenly rose up and took my place, and
coming to the front of the pulpit, said, "My grandson can preach this
as a matter of theory, but I can tell you it as a matter of experience,
for I have done business upon the great waters, and have seen the works
of the Lord for myself." There is an accumulation of force in the
testimony of one who has personally passed through the things whereof
others can only speak as though they had seen them in a map or in a
picture. Travellers who write from their easy chairs what they have
seen from their bedchambers, may indite books to beguile the idle hours
of those who stay at home; but he who is about to traverse regions full
of danger, seeks a guide who has really trodden the road, The writer
may excel in florid words, the veritable traveller has real and
valuable wisdom. Faith increases in solidity, assurance, and intensity,
the more she is exercised with tribulation, and the more she hath been
cast down, and lifted up again. Let not this, however, discourage those
who are young in faith. You will have trials enough without your
seeking for them; the full portion will be measured out to you in due
season. Meanwhile, if you cannot yet claim the result of long
experience, thank God for what grace you have. Praise Him for that
whereunto you have attained; walk according to that rule, and you shall
yet have more and more of the blessing of God, till your faith shall
remove mountains, and conquer impossibilities.
It may be asked, what is the method by which trial strengthens faith?
We might answer in various ways. Trial takes away many of the
impediments of faith. Carnal security is the worst foe to confidence in
God. If I sit down and say, "Soul, take thine ease, thou hast much
goods laid up for many years;" faith's road is barricaded, but
adversity sets the barn on a blaze, and "the much goods laid up for
many years," cease to block up the path of faith. Oh, blessed axe of
sorrow, which clears a pathway for me to my God by cutting down the
thick trees of my earthly comforts! When I say, "My mountain standeth
firm, I shall never be moved," the visible fortification, rather than
the invisible protector, engages my attention; but when the great
earthquake shakes the rocks, and the mountain is swallowed up, I fly to
the immovable Rock of Ages to build my confidence on high. Worldly ease
is a great foe to faith; it loosens the joints of holy valour, and
snaps the sinews of scared courage. The balloon never rises until the
cords are cut: affliction doth this sharp service for believing souls.
While the wheat sleeps comfortable in the husk it is useless to man, it
must be threshed out of its resting-place before its value can be
known. Trial plucks the arrow of faith from the repose of the quiver,
and shoots it against the foe.
Nor is affliction of small service to faith, when it exposes the
weakness of the creature. This trial would show the apostles that they
must not depend upon the bounty of any one man, for though Lazarus may
have entertained them and filled their little bag with food, yet
Lazarus dies, and Mary may die, and Martha may die, and all friends
must die, and this would teach them not to look to broken cisterns, but
to fly to the ever-flowing fountain. Oh, dear friends, we are in much
danger of making idols of our mercies! God gives us his temporal
favours as refreshments by the way, and then straightway we kneel down
and cry, "These by thy gods, O Israel." It is of the Lord's mercy that
these idol-gods be broken in pieces. He blasts the gourds under which
we sat in ample shade, in order that we may lift up our cry to Him, and
trust in Him alone. The emptiness of the creature is a lesson we are so
slow to learn, and we must have it whipped into us by the rod of
affliction; but learned it must be, or else faith can never attain to
eminence.
Furthermore, trial is of special service to faith when it drives her to
her God. I make a sad confession, over which I mourn, that when my soul
is happy and things prosper, I do not as a rule live so near to God as
I do in the midst of shame and contempt, and casting down of spirit. O
my God, how dear Thou art to my soul in the night; when the sun goeth
down, Thou Bright and Morning Star, how sweetly dost Thou shine. When
the world's bread is sugared and buttered, then we devour it till we
grow sick; but when the world changes our diet, fills our mouth with
vinegar, and makes our drink gall and wormwood, then we cry for the
breasts of our dear God again. When the world's wells are full of sweet
but poisonous water, we pitch our tents at the well's mouth, and drink
again and again and forget the well of Bethlehem which is within the
gate; but when earth's water becomes bitter like the stream of Marah,
then we turn away all sick and faint, and cry after the water of life,
"Spring up, O well!" Thus afflictions fetch us to our God, as the
barking dog drives the wandering sheep to the shepherd's hand.
And then trial has a hardening effect upon faith. As the Spartan lads
were prepared for fighting by the sharp discipline of their boyish
days, so are God's servants trained for war by the afflictions which He
sends upon them in the early days of their spiritual life. We must run
with footmen, or we shall never be able to contend with horses; we must
be thrown into the water, or we shall never learn to swim; we must hear
the whizzing of the bullets, or we shall never become veteran soldiers.
The gardener knows that if his flowers were kept always under glass and
fostered in a great temperature, when he might put them out, should
there come a cold night they would quickly die; so he does not give
them too much heat, but exposes them by degrees and gets them used to
the cold, that they may stand in the open air; and thus the only wise
God does not put His servants in hothouses and rear them delicately,
but He exposes them to trial that they may know how to bear it when it
comes. If you want to ruin your son, never let him know a hardship.
When he is a child carry him in your arms, when he becomes a youth
still dandle him, and when he becomes a man still dry-nurse him, and
you will succeed in producing an arrant fool. If you want to prevent
his being made useful in the world, guard him from every kind of toil.
Do not suffer him to struggle. Wipe the sweat from his dainty brow and
say, "Dear child, thou shalt never have another task so arduous." Pity
him when he ought to be punished; supply all his wishes, avert all
disappointments, prevent all troubles, and you will surely tutor him to
be a reprobate and to break your heart. But put him where he must work,
expose him to difficulties, purposely throw him into peril, and in this
way you shall make him a man, and when he comes to do man's work and to
bear man's trial, he shall be fit for either. My Master does not
daintily cradle His children when they ought to run alone; and when
they begin to run He is not always putting out His finger for them to
lean upon, but He lets them tumble down to the cutting of their knees,
because then they will walk more carefully by-and-by, and learn to
stand upright by the strength which faith confers upon them.
You see, dear friends, that Jesus Christ was glad–glad that His
disciples were blessed by trouble. Will you think of this, you who are
so troubled this morning, Jesus Christ does sympathize with you, but
still He does it wisely, and He says, "I am glad for your sakes that I
was not there." He is glad that your business does not prosper; He is
glad that you have those pains and aches, and that you have so weak a
body, to the intent that you may believe. You would never have
possessed the precious faith which now supports you if the trial of
your faith had not been like unto fire. You are a tree that never would
have rooted so well if the wind had not rocked you to and fro, and made
you to take firm hold upon the precious truths of the covenant of
grace.
2. But not to tarry here, let us notice that the deliverance which
Christ wrought by the resurrection of Lazarus, was calculated also to
strengthen the faith of the apostles. At the worst Christ can work.
Why, what a plight were they now in! Here was a case which had come to
the very worst. Lazarus is not merely dead–he has been buried; the
stone has been rolled to the mouth of the sepulchre–worse than that,
he had become putrid. Here are miracles so many, that I must describe
the resurrection of Lazarus not as one miracle, but as a mass of
wonders. We will not go into detail, but suffice it to say, we cannot
suppose anything to be a more prodigious exhibition of the divine
strength, than the restoration of health and life to a body through
which the worms did creep and crawl; and yet in the very worst case
Christ is not brought to a nonplus. Here was a case where human power
evidently could do nothing. Now bring the viol and the harp, and let
music try its charms. Bring here, physician, thy most potent draught,
now, for the true aqua vitoe! Now see what thou canst do. What! does
the elixir fail? The physician turns away disgusted, for the stench may
sooner destroy the physician's life, than he restore the corpse. Now,
seek ye round the world and ask all men that are–Herod and his
men-at-arms, and Caesar on the imperial throne–"Can you do anything
here?" Nay, death sits with ghastly smile laughing at them all. "I have
Lazarus," says he, "beyond your reach." Yet Jesus Christ wins the day.
Here divine sympathy became most manifest. Jesus wept when He thought
of Lazarus and his weeping sisters. We do not find it often said that
He wept. He was "a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief," but those
were precious and rare drops which He shed over that dead body. He
could do no more when He thought of Jerusalem: He doth no less now that
He thinks of Lazarus.
What an exhibition these disciples had of the divine power as well as
the divine sympathy, for Christ does but say, "Lazarus, come forth,"
and death can hold his captive no longer. Forth from the charnel house
he comes, restored to perfect health.
Do you not think that all this must tend to confirm the apostles'
faith? It seems to me to be a part of the best education they could
possibly receive for their future ministry. I think I see the apostles
in after-time shut up in prison: they are condemned to die, but Peter
comforts John by saying, "He can bring us out of prison: do you not
remember how He brought Lazarus out of his grave? He can certainly
appear for us and set us free." When they went forth to preach to
sinners, how would they be strengthened by remembering these cases!
Their hearers were debauched, depraved, immoral–the apostles went into
the midst of the worst conditions of human nature, and yet they feared
not for the result, for they knew that putrid Lazarus revived at
Christ's word. Peter would argue, "Did not Christ restore Lazarus when
his body was stinking and decayed? He can certainly bring the most
reprobate hearts to the obedience of the truth, and raise the vilest of
the vile to new life."
Many of the apostolic Churches were far gone; they had in them unworthy
members; but this would not too much buffet the faith of the apostles,
for they would say, "That same Christ Who raised up Lazarus, can make
Sardis, and Pergamos, and Thyatira, yet to be a praise in the earth,
and Churches which seem to be corrupt and foul in the nostrils of the
Most High, may yet be made a brightness and glory, and a sweet-smelling
savour unto him." I am persuaded that very often such a miracle as this
would recur to them, and strengthen them in the times of their
suffering and labour and make them able to bear afflictions, and even
martyrdom itself, in confidence in Christ.
I will not, however, say more, because the thing seems obvious enough;
only you must not forget the principle we are trying to bring out, that
in the case of the apostles, Christ considered that for them to have
strong faith was worth any cost. No matter what pangs it cost Mary and
Martha, or in what grief it might involve Himself or His apostles, they
must bear it, because the result was so exceedingly beneficial. The
surgeon handles the knife without tears, sharp is the cut, but he knows
it will cure. The mother puts the draught to the child's mouth, and the
child cries, and heaves, and loathes the bitterness, but the mother
says, "Drink it all up, my child," because she knows there is life in
every drop. So Christ is glad for the apostles' sake that He is not
there, to the intent that they may believe.
II. Jesus Christ had an eye also to THE GOOD OF THE FAMILY. Mary and
Martha had faith, but it was not very strong, for they suspected
Christ's love when they said, "Lord, if Thou hadst been here, my
brother had not died." There was a sort of under whisper–"Why wast
Thou not here? Dost Thou love us? Wherefore then didst Thou tarry?"
They certainly doubted His power. Martha, when she could believe in the
resurrection, but could not believe in the present resurrection for her
brother; and when again she said, "He has been dead four days," had
faith, but it was very weak. Christ therefore sent the trial to Mary
and Martha for their sakes, and was glad to send it, to the intent that
they might believe.
Observe, dear friends, that these were choice favourites of the Lord
Jesus Christ. He loves all the elect. They were three special
favourites upon whom very distinguishing regard was set, and therefore
it was that He sent them a special trial. The lapidary, if he takes up
a stone and finds that it is not very precious, will not spend much
care in cutting it; but when he gets a rare diamond of the first water,
then he will be sure to cut, and cut, and cut again. When the Lord
finds a saint whom He loves–loves much–He may spare other men trials
and troubles, but He certainly will not this well-beloved one. It is an
awful thing to be a favourite of heaven. It is a thing to be sought
after and to be rejoiced in; but remember, to be of the King's
council-chamber is a thing involving such work for faith that flesh and
blood might shrink from the painful blessing. The gardener gets a tree,
and if it is but of a poor sort he will let it grow as it wills, and
take what fruit comes from it naturally; but if it be of a very rare
sort, he likes to have every bough in its proper place, so that it may
bear well; and he often takes out his knife an cuts here and there,
because, says he, "That is a favourite tree, and it is one which bears
such fruit that I would have much from it, and would leave nothing
whatever that would cause it detriment." You who are God's favourites
must not marvel at trials, but rather keep your door wide open for
them, and when they come in, say, "Hail, messenger of the King! the
sound of thy Master's feet is behind thee; thou art welcome here, for
thy Master sent thee."
Special trial was attended with a special visit. It may be that Christ
would not have come to Bethany if Lazarus had not been dead; but as
soon as there is a corpse in the house, there is Christ in the house
too. O Christian, it shall be much for your comfort, and for the
strengthening of your faith, if Christ comes to you in your troubles. I
tell you, if you see no smiles in His face in your prosperity, you
shall not be without them in your adversity. The Lord Jesus will go out
of His way to see you. You know when a mother is most kind to her
child: she lets it run about, and scarcely notices it when it is well;
but when it cries. "My head, my head!" and when they take it to the
mother and tell her it is ill, how tender she is over it! How all the
blandishments of love and the caresses of affection are lavished upon
the little sick one! It shall be so with you, and in receiving these
special visits, you shall know yourself to be highly favoured above the
rest.
This special visit was attended with special fellowship. Jesus
wept–wept with them that wept. Ah! you shall have Jesus sitting by the
bedside, and weeping with you when you are sick. You may be well, and
strong, and have but little fellowship with Christ, but He shall make
all your bed in your sickness. Though you might walk along the green
sward without the Saviour, when you come into the midst of the fire,
like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego, you shall not be without Him
then. I witness that there is no fellowship with Christ so near and
sweet, as that which comes to us when we are in deep trials. Then the
Master unbosoms Himself, and takes His child, not upon His knee, but to
His very heart, and bids him lay his head upon His beating bosom.
Christ will reveal His secrets to you when the world is against you,
and trials surround you. "The secret of the Lord is with them that fear
Him; and He will shew them His covenant;" but they shall never have
such discoveries of that secret and that covenant, as when they most
need it, in the darkest and most trying times. There are special loves,
special trials, special visits, and special fellowship.
And soon you shall have special deliverance. In days to come you will
talk about these trials. You will say, I fretted myself, and worried
over it, but oh, if I could have seen the end as well as the beginning,
I should have said–
"Sweet affliction! sweet affliction!
Thus to bring my Saviour near."
I tell you, you will sit yet under your own vine, and under your own
fig-tree, and talk to the poor tried saints, and say, "Do not be cast
down, for I cried unto the Lord and He heard me, and delivered me from
all my fears." Perhaps in heaven this will help to make a part of your
happiness, to remember God's love to you in your tribulations–
"There on a green and flowery mount
Our weary souls shall sit,
And with transporting joys recount,
The labours of our feet."
Shall we not tell to angels, and principalities, and powers, the
faithfulness of Christ? We will tell all heaven that "His love was
strong as death, and His jealousy as cruel as the grave" "many waters
could not quench His love, neither could the floods drown it." What
sayest thou, my friend, thou who are under the smarting rod? Wilt thou
murmur any more? Wilt thou repine against it any more? I beseech you,
rather take my text, and read it the other way say–God help thee to
say it–"I am glad that my God did not deliver me, because the trial
has strengthened my faith. I thank His name that He has done me the
great favour to permit me to carry the heavy end of His cross. I thank
my Father that He hath not left me unchastised, for Before I was
afflicted I went astray: but now have I kept Thy word.' It is good for
me that I have been afflicted.' " I tell you, this is the shortest way
out of your troubles, as well as the most profitable spirit while you
are in them. The Lord generally stays the rod when He finds His child
receiving it as a favour. When thou art agreed with God's rod, then
that rod will have no further quarrel with thee. When thou canst look
into the Father's eyes, and say, "Thy will be done," then His
afflicting hand has done its work.
III. Now I come to the third point, and here may God the Holy Spirit
bless the word. This trouble was permitted for GIVING FAITH TO OTHERS.
I shall address myself chiefly to those who cannot say they are God's
people, but who have some desire towards Christ. It is very likely you
have had some great trouble in your life, and looking back, you wish
you had never had it; but my Lord, who knows better than you do, says
"I am glad for your sakes that I did not spare you that trouble, to the
intent that you may be led to believe." Know assuredly that afflictions
often lead men to faith in Christ because they give space for thought.
The man was strong and hale and hearty, and went on working from day to
day, and never had a thought about God. "The ox knoweth his owner, and
the ass his master's crib;" but he did not know, he did not care. He
left all thoughts of eternity to those who were silly enough to be
religious, but for him–what did it matter to him? Death was a long way
off, and besides, if it were not, he had not the time to think about
it. An accident occurred; he had to lie upon his bed, and at first he
fretted and fumed, but it could not be altered, and there in the ward
of the hospital he groaned through many a weary hour at night. What
could he think of? Why then the man began to think of himself, of his
condition before God, of what would be his lot if he should die. When
his life trembled like the even balance, and not one could tell which
way it would turn, the man was forced to consider. Many a soul has been
ploughed in the hospital, and then has been sown in the sanctuary. Many
a man has been first brought to God by the loss of a limb, or by long
sickness, or by deep poverty.
Afflictions lead men to faith full often by preventing sin. A young man
had resolved to climb a mountain: he had determined against good advice
to reach the summit, though one far older than himself had warned him
of the danger. He had not proceeded far up the mountainside before a
thick mist surrounded him. He was alarmed. The mist was so thick he
could scarcely see his own hand. He retraced his steps following the
way by which he came, and returned sorrowfully to his father's house,
telling him that he had been in great peril. His father said he was
glad of it; for if he had not met with that peril, he might have
advanced a little farther, and fallen, never to rise again. Often
trouble puts men out of temptation. They would have gone into bad
company, to drunkenness, or lust, but they could not. The appointment
was made–ah! the very night was set apart, but the black hand of God's
kind angel came–I said a black hand, for so it seemed, and the man
could not do what he had wished to do, and so his course was checked,
and this in the hand of God was the means of bringing him to faith.
Troubles, again, often bring men to believe in Jesus because they
compel them to stand face to face with stern realities. Did you ever
lie upon the edge of death for a week? Did you ever lie with your body
racked with pains, listening for the physician's whispers, and knowing
that they amounted to this, that there were ninety-nine chances to one
that you could not possibly recover? Did you ever feel that death was
near? Did you ever peer into eternity with anxious eyes? Did you ever
picture hell and think yourself there? Did you ever lie awake, and
think of heaven and yourself shut out of it? Ah! it is in such times as
these that God's Holy Spirit works great things for the sons of men.
Hence Christ is glad when they are brought very low, when their soul
abhorreth all manner of meat, and they cry unto God in their trouble.
He is glad because this is the stepping-stone to real and genuine trust
in Him, and so to eternal life. It is much better to lose an eye or a
hand than to lose your soul–better to go to heaven poor and ragged,
than to go to hell rich–better to melt into heaven by the process of
consumption than it were to go down to hell with bones filled with
marrow, and sinews full of strength. Glory be to God for the trials and
troubles some of us have had, if they have been the means of bringing
us to Christ.
Trials tend to make men believe in Christ when they are followed by
deliverances. Perhaps some of you have been raised from a sick bed, or
you have been helped over a time of temporal distress. Well, have you
no gratitude? Do you not love God for His goodness? Does not your heart
melt towards the Lord, for the kind deeds He has done to you? Have you
no song of praise for His name? I have known many who have said, "Now
that God has been pleased to raise me up and help me in this way, I
will give Him my heart; what can I do for Him who has done so much for
me?" Gratitude, I doubt not, has led many to put their trust in Christ.
Besides, if you sought God and asked for help in time of trouble, and
He did help you, this will tend to encourage you to pray again. If He
helped you then, He will help you now; if He spared your life, why will
He not spare your soul? If God has been pleased to lift you up from the
grave, why may He not also deliver you from the pit of hell? I bless
God there are many in this Church who were led to seek the Lord through
answers to prayer. God was gracious to them in their distress; His
mercy listened to their prayer; the blessing came, and the result is,
that they cry unto Him, and will cry as long as they live.
If once we have prevailed with God, and believing in God we have had
some deliverance, this I hope will be overruled to make us trust God
for everything in the future. Remember that the one thing needful for
eternal life is trusting in the Lord Jesus Christ. I know you will tell
me you cannot be perfect. No, I know you cannot. You will say, "I have
many sins; I have done much that is wrong." It is true, most true, but
he who believeth in the Lord Jesus Christ has his sins forgiven. You
know the story–Christ came down from heaven and took His people's sins
upon His own shoulders. When God came forth to smite the sinner,
Justice said, "Where is he?" and Christ came and stood in the sinner's
place, and God's sword went through the Saviour's heart. Why? That it
might never cut nor wound the heart of those for whom Jesus died. Did
He die for you? He did, if you believe in Him; your faith will be to
you the evidence that Christ was substitute for you, and oh! if Christ
suffered for you, you cannot suffer. If God punished Christ He will
never punish you. If Jesus Christ paid your debts, you are free. Before
God's throne today, if thou believest, thou art as clear as the angels
in heaven. Thou are a saved soul if thou art resting upon the atonement
of Christ, and thou mayst go thy way and sing–
"Now, freed from sin, I walk at large,
The Saviour's blood's my full discharge;
At His dear feet my soul I lay,
A sinner saved, and homage pay."
If this be the result of your affliction, Christ may well say, "I am
glad for your sakes that I was not there to stop the trouble, to the
intent that ye may believe." May God bring you to faith for Jesus'
sake. Amen.