The Sorrowful Man's Question
(No. 2666)
INTENDED FOR READING ON LORD'S-DAY, MARCH 18, 1900.
DELIVERED BY C. H. SPURGEON,
AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE NEWINGTON, ON LORD'S-DAY EVENING,
OCTOBER 8, 1882.
"Why is light given to a man whose way is hidden, and whom God has
hedged in?" Job 3:23.
I AM very thankful that so many of you are glad and happy. There is
none too much joy in the world and the more that any of us can create,
the better. It should be a part of our happiness and a main part of it,
to try to make other people glad. "Comfort you, comfort you My people,"
is a commission which many of us ought to feel is entrusted to us. If
your own cup ofjoy is full, let it run over to others who have a more
trying experience. If you, yourself, are privileged to have flashing
eyes and elastic steps, and a bounding heart, be mindful to speak words
of good cheer to such as are in bonds! Feel as if you were bound with
them and try to revive their drooping spirits. That is what I am going
to aim at, tonight, so you will excuse me if I bid, "good-bye," for a
while to you joyous ones! I want to seek after those who have no such
delight as you now possess–those who are, on the contrary, suffering
from extreme depression of spirit. Sometimes, we must single out the
wounded ones of the flock. That is what I am about to do, yet I feel
sure that while some few will be distinctly sought after, there will be
something that may be of use to the many who are in a less sorrowful
condition. The 99 shall get their full portion although the shepherd
goes especially after the lost one.
The question of our text was put by Job when he first opened his mouth
in the extreme bitterness of his anguish. "Why is light given to a man
whose way is hidden, and whom God has hedged in?" His case was so sad
and so trying that life itself became irksome to him. I suppose that
by, "light," here, he means the power to see the Light of God, the life
which lives in the light. "Why," he asked in his agony, "is that
continued to a man when God has filled him with sorrow upon sorrow?"
The verses preceding our text are to the same effect–"Therefore is
light given to him that is in misery, and life unto the bitter in soul
which long for death, but it comes not; and dig for it more than for
hidden treasures; which rejoice exceedingly and are glad when they can
find the grave."
The Patriarch was weary of living and, perhaps, we shall not wonder so
much at his pitiful lamentation if we remember the extreme distress
into which he had been brought. He had lost all his property. Stroke by
stroke all his wealth had been taken away from him. He might have borne
that if it had been his only loss, but close upon the heels of it had
come sore bereavement. His happy children, for whom he daily cared and
whom he had tenderly loved, were all destroyed in a moment–while they
were feasting in the house of one of their brothers. The calamity
seemed all the greater because it came in the very midst of their joys.
Then, as if that was not trial enough, Job was, himself, smitten from
head to foot with boils. If you have ever seen a person in that
condition, I am sure that you must pity him. There is a dear friend of
ours, now with God, whom I visited when he was in much the same state
as that. Perhaps he had not to endure quite all that Job suffered, but
something exceedingly like it had befallen him. The irritation, the
pain and the depression of spirit that come with that particular form
of disease all tend to make us treat very gently the petulant
expressions of Job.
We may not excuse them, but only he among us that is without fault may
take up the first stone to cast at him. I will warrant that if we had
suffered as he did, been brought to poverty, left childless, and then
been tortured as he was, from head to foot–and even his wife rendering
him no comfort, but, on the contrary, adding to his grief and woe–we
might have said even worse things than Job did! For remember, dear
Friends, that he said nothing against God in the time of his deepest
sorrow. He cursed most vehemently the day of his birth and wished that
he had never existed, or that he might
speedily pass away to sleep with the generations that are dead. He used
unwise and foolish expressions–but any of us might have used far worse
words if we had been in his case, so we will not condemn him, but we
will see what lessons we can learn from his experience.
I think that Job's experience teaches us the very small value of
temporal things. To have spiritual blessings and to enjoy them, is one
thing, but to have earthly things, and to enjoy them, is quite another.
You may have an abundance of them and yet they may be utterly tasteless
to you, or they may even be bitter as gall to you–and you may curse
the day that gave them to you. I am sure that it is so, because Job
speaks thus concerning life, which is the chief of all earthly things.
It is true, although Satan said it, "All that a man has will he give
for his life," yet we may be brought into such a condition that we may
wish that we had never been born! Life itself may become so wearisome
to us that we may even wish to escape from it, that we may be at rest,
as we hope.
Job had once enjoyed every comfort that heart could desire and he still
had this blessing of life left to him. But even that had become curdled
and soured–the last thing to which a man usually clings had become
distasteful and disgusting to him–so that he set no store by it, but
longed to get rid of it. O Beloved, seek eternal treasures, for there
is no moth that can eat them, no rust can mar them, no fermentation or
corruption can injure them. But, as for the things of time and sense,
if you dopossess them, use them as though you had them not and never
make them your gods, for they are but as a shadow that passes away in a
moment. They come, and they are gone. And if you make idols of them,
the Lord may permit you to retain them, but take away from you all
power to enjoy them. You may have abundance and yet not be able to
relish even the bread you eat, or the drink that refreshes you! You may
have a loss of health, or a loss of all power to be happy, though
everything that men think to be the cause of happiness may be laid
abundantly at your feet.
With this as a preface, I now come to my text and ask you to notice,
first, the case which raises the question. Secondly, the question
itself. And, thirdly, answers which may be given to the question–"Why
is light given to a man whose way is hidden, and whom God has hedged
in?"
I. First, notice THE CASE WHICH RAISES THE QUESTION. "Why is light
given to a man whose way is hidden, and whom God has hedged in?"
That is to say, "Why does God permit men to live when their souls are
under deep depression and gloom? Why does He not let them die at once?
When their days are spent in weariness and their nights yield them
neither rest nor refreshment–when they look upward and see nothing to
give them hope, or onward, and behold nothing but that which is even
more dreadful than the present–why is it that God continues life to
those who are in such sad circumstances?" Well, dear Friends, if life
were not continued to any but those who are bright of eye, fleet of
foot and joyous of heart, how few would live! And if the first time
that darkness fell upon a man's pathway, he were to be permitted to
die, well, then, the whole population of the globe would soon be swept
away! If our murmuring and petulance demanded that we should die rather
than suffer, then we should soon pass away and be gone. And that is the
case which is supposed in Job's question–If a man finds himself
entirely in the dark, if God's Presence is completely hidden from him
and he can find no joy in anything whatever, and his spirit is tossed
to and fro with worries and perplexities, the question is–"Why does he
continue to live"
Yet, further, the man here described is in such trouble that he can see
no reason for the trouble. His "way is hidden." Job could not perceive,
in his case, any cause for the distress into which he had been plunged.
As far as he knew, he had walked uprightly. He had not sinned so as to
be now suffering the result of his sin. He had not committed a crime,
otherwise he would have understood the punishment when it came upon
him. He looked back upon all that he had done and he could not, at
first glance, see in himself any cause for his affliction. Nor, indeed,
dear Brothers and Sisters, was there any cause why all these things
should have happened to Job by way ofpunishment, for the Inspired
record concerning him is that he was "perfect and upright, and one that
feared God and eschewed evil."
Even the devil, himself, who kept a sharp lookout with his malicious
eyes, could not find any fault whatever with which he could charge Job.
He deserved the character which God had given to him, though Satan did
insinuate that he had acted from interested motives. He asked, "Does
Job fear God for nothing?" That question has always seemed to me to be
a very crafty one, yet very foolish, for if it could have been proved
that Job had feared or served God for nothing, then the devil would
have said at once that God was a bad Master and that there was no
reward for those who served Him. But now that he finds God putting a
hedge of roses round about Job, and sheltering him on every side, he
declares
that Job was only pious because he found it profitable! He could find
no other fault with him–and even that accusation was not true.
Job, on his part, remembered how he had fed the widows and succored the
fatherless–how he had acted justly towards his fellow creatures in the
midst of an unjust generation and how, amidst a mass of idolaters, he
had worshipped God and God alone. He had never kissed his hand in
adoration to the moon, as she walked along her shining way in all her
queenly brightness, nor had he ever bowed himself down to the host of
heaven, as nearly all around him had done. He stood alone, or almost
alone, in that age, as a true and faithful servant of Jehovah–yet his
sorrows and trials were multiplied. And so, his way was hidden, he was
hedged in by God, and he could not make it out. You know, dear Friends,
that it is often a great aggravation of our troubles when we do not
know why they come. A man, when he is ill, usually wants to know what
is the nature of his disease and how he came to be attacked by it. When
we see a person suffering, we generally ask "Where did you catch that
cold?" or, "What was it that brought on that congestion?" We always
like to know the cause of the complaint–and Job, too, wanted to
ascertain the reason for his trouble, but he could not find out–and
this rendered it all the more mysteriously grievous to him. And
therefore he enquired, "Why do I continue to live, when I have come
into such darkness as this?"
It was equally trying to Job that he did not now what to do. There
seemed to be nothing that he could do. He was stripped of all his
earthly possessions. Those ashes where he sat formed his uncomfortable
couch. And the only property that remained to him was a potsherd, with
which, in his desperation, he began to scrape himself because of his
boils. What could he do in such a case as that? There was no physician
there to cure him of his sad complaint.
True, there were his three friends, but all that they could do, or, at
least, the best thing they did, was to sit still and say nothing. When
they opened their mouths, it was only to pour vinegar into his wounds
and to increase his agony tenfold! What could poor Job do under such
circumstances? His very helplessness tended to increase his
wretchedness.
Am I addressing anyone who is in that kind of perplexity? I think I
hear someone moaning, "I don't know which way to turn. I have done
everything I can think of and I cannot tell what is to come next. I sit
in darkness and can see no light. Why I am brought to this pass, I
cannot tell. Or what is the reason for it, I cannot make out. If I
could light upon some great and grievous fault which had brought me
where I am, I could understand it. But as it is, I am in thick Egyptian
night about it all and I know not what to do. Why does a man continue
to live when his way is thus hidden, or hedged up." If that is the way
you talk, you are in very much the same sort of plight that the
Patriarch was in when he uttered the mournful question which forms our
text.
What was still worse to Job was that he could not see any way out of
his trouble. He said that God had hedged him in, not with a hedge of
roses, but with a barrier of briars. Whatever he tried to do, he found
himself obstructed in doing it. And there are now men in this world
whose sorrows are the more grievous because everything they do to
alleviate their distress seems only to increase it. Their efforts are
all fruitless. They are like men who have become entangled in a
bog–the more they struggle to get out, the deeper they descend. They
strive to their very utmost, but it is all in vain. They rise up early,
they sit up late, and they eat the bread of carefulness mingled with
their tears, but there is a blight on all that they do. Nothing
prospers with them. They are at their wits end. Then they begin to cry,
"Oh, that we had never been born, rather than that we should have been
born to such trouble as this! 'Why is light given to a man whose way is
hidden, and whom God has hedged in?'"
I have thus stated the case which gave rise to Job's question and I
should not wonder if I have, at the same time, stated the case of some
who are here. Do not think it has been a waste of time for any of you
to hear this sorrowful description of a very sad condition of heart and
mind. If I should only have been describing one such individual, let us
all feel sympathy for him or for her–and let us unite in breathing the
silent petition, "Lord, bring Your servant out of prison."
II. Now, secondly, we are to consider THE QUESTION ITSELF. "Why is
light given to a man whose way is hidden, and whom God has hedged in?"
In other words, Why is the light of life given to him who is in the
darkness ofmisery?
Well, first, let me say that it is a very unsafe question for anyone to
ask. Brothers and Sisters, we are sure to get into mischief as soon as
we begin catechizing God and asking, "why?" Such questioning comes not
well from our lips. He is the Potter and we are the clay in His hands.
"Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why have you made me
thus? Has not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make
one vessel unto honor and another unto dis-
honor?" God's eternal purposes are a great deep and when we try to
fathom them, we utterly fail. Divine Sovereignty is an ocean without a
bottom and without a shore–and all we can do is to set our sail and
steer by the chart which He has given us and all the while believe
that, as we sang just now–
"Even the hour that darkest seems,
Will His changeless goodness prove;
From the mist His brightness streams,
God is Wisdom, God is Love." Voyaging in that fashion, we shall be
safe, indeed!
But to try to cross such a sea without rudder, or chart, or
compass–this is a venture–some piece of sailing which we had better
not undertake! I tremble whenever I have to think of the wondrous ways
of God. I mean when I have to think of them after the manner of the
reasoner and not after the style of the Believer! Well did Milton
describe the fallen spirits sitting in little groups, discussing
predestination and the counsels of the Eternal. You know how Paul
answers the man who calls in question the dealings of God either in
Providence or in Grace–"No but, O man, who are you that replies
against God?" Job received his answer when the Lord spoke to him out of
the whirlwind and said, "Who is this that darkens counsel by words
without knowledge?" What God said to him was not so much a vindication
of the ways of Providence, but a revelation of His matchless power as
the Creator and the Ruler of the universe. And, though men may not like
to hear it, yet there is, in the thunder of God's power, an answer
which, though it may not always answer the skeptic, but ultimately
overpower and silence him! As for God's child, he sits down in the
shadow of that black cloud which is the canopy of Deity, and he is well
content to be still in the Presence of the Lord of the whole earth!
Imitate him, my Brothers and Sisters, and do not keep asking God the
why and the wherefore of what He does. It is an unsafe thing to ask
such questions!
Next, it reflects upon God. In this question of Job, there is really a
reflection upon the wisdom of the Almighty. He has given the Light of
Life to a man whose way is hidden and whom He has hedged in, yet Job
asks, "Why did He do it?" I think that far too often we indulge our
questionings of Divine Providence. Is God to stand and answer to you
and me for what He does? Is He bound to tell us the reason why He does
it? Job's friend, Elihu, said, "God is greater than man. Why do you
strive against Him? For He gives not account of any of His matters." If
there is His equal anywhere, let him meet Him in the field and they
shall speak together. But to us worms of the dust, answers shall not be
given if we haughtily put questions to Him of, "what?" and "why?" To
accept the Lord's will with absolute submission is after the manner of
the Son of God, Himself, for He prayed, in the hour of His greatest
agony, "O My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me:
nevertheless not as I will, but as You will." But to quibble and to
question is after the manner of the prince of darkness who is always
seeking to dispute the Sovereignty of God. Therefore, Beloved, let no
question of ours reflect upon the Lord's love, or the dispensations of
His Providence.
Further, we may rest quite certain that there must be an answer to this
question, a good answer, and an answer in harmony with the Character of
God. If there are men and women to be found still sitting in the
darkness of grief and sorrow and we ask why they are allowed to
continue to live, there is a reply to that enquiry, and a reply
consistent with boundless Grace and infinite compassion, but, mark you,
that reply may never be given, or, if it is given, we may be incapable
of understanding it! There is much that God does that cannot be
understood, even by those great men of modern times who would gladly
sit on the Throne of the Eternal and judge Him–
"Snatch from His hand the balance and the rod, Rejudge His judgments,
be the god of God." I say that there are some answers which God might
give if He pleased, but which even they could not comprehend with all
their wit and wisdom! And you and I must often come to a point where we
have to stop and say, "We cannot understand this." And we shall be
still wiser if we add, "Nor do we wish to do so."
Brothers and Sisters, I, for one, have had enough of searching into
reasons! I am perfectly satisfied to accept facts. I am ready to bow my
reason before the Lord and to accept whatever He says. If I do not, how
little shall I ever know! What is there that I really understand? I
confess that I see profound mysteries about the most common phenomena
around me. I cannot fully comprehend anything when I get right to the
bottom of it. There is, on every hand, a deep which I cannot fathom.
How, then, shall I understand the ways of God and measure Him with my
finite mind, comparing so many inches with the Infinite, weighing so
many ounces against the Omnipotent and reckoning so many seconds in
contrast with the Eternal? No, Brothers and Sisters, for such
calculations you have nothing to measure with! You have nothing to draw
with, and the well is deep, yes, bottomless! So, the less of such
questions as Job's, any of us ask, the better, for, even if we had the
answer to them, we might not be able to understand it.
Let me remind you, also, that however important this question may seem
to be, it is not the most profitable question. I have heard of a
farmer, whose boy said to him, "Father, the cows are in the corn;
however did they get there? Boy," he replied, "never mind how they got
there–our work is to get them out as soon as we can." That is our main
business, also–to get the cows out of the corn! How they got there is
a matter that can be thought of, by-and-by, when we have nothing else
to do. The origin of evil is a point that puzzles a great many people,
but I hope you will not worry your brain over that question. If you do,
you will be very foolish. But if you are wise, you will not trouble
yourself so much about the origin of evil, as about how to conquer it,
in yourself, and in others! Get the cows out of the corn, and then find
out how they got in, if you can, and, by so doing, prevent their
getting in again.
There will be space enough and time enough, and better Light to discuss
these questions when we get up yonder before the Throne of the Eternal.
If their solution is of any real consequence to us, we shall get them
solved, but, meanwhile, we are colorblind, or, if we are not, it is so
dark and so misty here–and we have so many other more pressing matters
to attend to–that we had better leave these whys and wherefores, and
rely on the Infallible wisdom and the Infinite love of God. If He has
done anything, it is quite certain that it is right and just! Yes, if
it has come from His dear hands, it is also gracious and kind. There is
more sublimity in being like a little child in the Presence of the
Eternal than there is in trying to imitate the Deity, for that is but a
mockery–a thing to be despised! No, more, it is the greatest insult we
can offer to God and it is a pity and a shame that any of us should so
live and act. Put aside everything of the kind, I implore you, and in
very truth submit yourselves unto God.
III. But now, in the last place, speaking to the sorrowful person, I
want to mention SOME ANSWERS WHICH MAY BE GIVEN TO HIS QUESTIONS. "Why
do I continue to live," he asks, "in such sorrow as this? Why does not
God take from me the light of life when He does not permit me to enjoy
the light of comfort?"
Supposing that you are a child of God, I will give you one answer which
ought to satisfy you, though, perhaps, it will not if your spirit is
rebellious. God wills it If you are one of His true children, that is
all the answer that you will require–and you will say, with those
early Christians, "The will of the Lord be done." And with your Lord,
Himself, "Not My will, but Yours be done." It was enough for Christ
that His suffering was in accordance with the Father's will, so He
bowed before Him in unquestioning submission. And shall not you, the
disciple, be content to fare as your Master did? Will you not be
perfectly satisfied with that which satisfied your Lord? It is the will
of the Lord–then what need is there of any further question if you are
His child?
But supposing that you are an unconverted person, and you say, "I
cannot bear to live in such sorrow as this, why is my life prolonged?"
The answer is, "Because of God's mercy to you." Where would you go to
be better off than you are here? You who have no hope in Christ and yet
who say, "I wish I were dead," you know not what you are wishing! You
wish you were dead? But what would be your portion after death? What?
Do you really wish to hear that dread sentence which must be passed
upon you if you die unregenerate–"Depart from Me, you cursed, into
everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels"? Do you really
desire to feel the full weight of Divine Justice! Ah, I hope that you
are not so foolish! You have spoken in petulance and do not mean what
you have said. It may be hard for you to live, but it would be harder
far for you to die–and then to live forever in a death that never
dies! God grant that you may never know that awful doom!
Moreover, the answer to your question is that the Lord spares you
because He would gladly save you. You are kept alive that you may hear
again that voice of mercy which says, "Repent and be converted."
"Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved." God comes
to you in this time of suffering, that He may stop you in your sin and
make you think! Even to the most careless and giddy among you, during
the poignancy of your grief, He says, "Now, My prodigal child, you have
wasted your substance in riotous living, your belly is hungry and you
have nothing with which to fill it. Arise and go unto your Father, for
He will receive you." Come then, sorrowful one, it may be that your
sorrows will end when your sins end. Certainly, when you come to Christ
to be forgiven, you shall find Divine consolation, even if all your
griefs do not at once disappear. Anyhow, it would be better to be
whipped all the way to Heaven than to be car-
ried down to Hell "on flowery beds of ease." Pray this prayer, "O Lord,
let me enter into life with one eye and one hand, halt or maimed,
rather than, having two eyes and two hands, to be cast into Hell!"
This is one answer to your question–The Lord lets you live, even
though it is in pain and grief, because He has purposes of love and
mercy towards you. Therefore, be not anxious to die, but be thankful
that you are still permitted to tarry upon Gospel ground! No, do not be
content to tarry there, but fly at once to the God of Grace! Look this
very instant to Jesus, for–
"There is life for a look at the Crucified One; There is life at this
moment for thee! Then look, Sinner–look unto Him and be saved! Unto
Him who was nailed to the tree."
One believing glance of the eyes to Him who is the sinner's Substitute
and all transgression is forgiven! Therefore, yield yourself unto Him.
Trust to His finished work and eternal life is yours! And when you have
that unspeakable blessing, why need you sorrow more?
As for the child of God, to whom I now again speak, if you ask, in a
timid, childlike way, "Why do I continue to live in such sorrow as I
have to endure?" I would, as your Brother, try to answer you. First, it
may be that all this trouble has come upon you to let you know what is
in you. None of us know what there is in us until we are put to the
test. We are wonderfully sweet-tempered until somebody touches one of
our sore places–and then, ah, me–there is not much sweetness of
temper left after that! We are remarkably patient until we get a sharp
neuralgic pain, perhaps–and then where is all our boasted patience? We
are very generous until we, ourselves, are somewhat pinched–and then
we become as tight-fisted as others whom we have condemned. We do not
know what is really in us while all goes smoothly and well. But
sickness, sorrow, bereavement, poverty and hunger will soon let us see
what we are! They make a mental or moral photograph of us and when we
look at the picture we say, "Oh, no! That cannot be our likeness." But
we look again and again, and then we say, "Alas, it is even so. But we
did not know we were like that. Now we see our faults and our follies.
O Lord, You have searched us, and tried us, and shown us the wicked
ways that are in us. Now purge us from them and make us clean and pure
in Your sight!" That is one reason, and a very good reason, for sharp
affliction–to let us see ourselves as we really are.
The next is that, often, our trials bring us very near to our God. Your
children run down the meadow to play and they get a good way off from
home in the sunny day, as they ramble along, gathering their buttercups
and daisies. But by-and-by, the sun sets, and night comes on–and now
they cry to be at home. Just so. And you, in all your pretty ways of
pleasure in your happy home, though you are a child of God, sometimes
forget Him. Sorrowfully must you remember that sad fact. But now the
night comes on and there is danger all around you. So you begin to cry
for your Father and you would gladly be back in fellowship with
Him–and that is a blessed trouble which brings us near to our God.
Christ's sheep ought to be thankful for the ugly black dog that keeps
them from going astray, or fetches them back when they have wandered
from the Shepherd! Perhaps Christ will call that black dog off when he
has answered the Master's purpose and brought you near His side.
Dear child of God, anything that promotes your sanctification, or
increases your spirituality, is a good thing for you. I have had my
share of physical pain and, perhaps, more of it than most who are
here–and I bless God for it. If it comes again, I ask Him for Grace to
bless Him for it then–and now that it has gone for a while, I freely
bless Him for it, for I cannot tell you all the good that it has worked
in me! Oh, how often a proud spirit has been cut back by affliction and
trial, like a vine that is made to bleed, that the clusters that
followed the pruning might be all the better and richer! The mown grass
is very sweet and fine and so, often, are Believers who have been
deeply tried. This tribulation, as Paul says, "works patience; and
patience, experience; and experience, hope: and hope makes not ashamed;
because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Spirit
which is given unto us." Therefore, bow humbly before the Lord, my
tried and afflicted Friend, and see at least some of the reasons why He
thus puts you in he dark chamber of tribulation.
Perhaps, dear Brother, you are being very greatly tried, more than most
people, to fit you to be an example to others. The Lord means to make a
veteran of you, so you must be the first in the breach, or you must
lead the forlorn hope. He puts you on the hardest service because He
wants others of His children to be able to learn from you. I do not
know that we should ever have heard anything of Job if it had not been
for his troubles–he was a most respectable Eastern farmer with a
considerable estate–very much like a great many country gentlemen we
have in England who may be
heard of at the Quarter Sessions, or the corn and cattle market. But
nothing more will be known of them unless you go to the parish church
and see some memorial of them stuck up there. Job would have been much
the same sort of man as that–an Oriental magnate who would have lived,
died and been forgotten–but now his fame will last as long as the
world endures! "You have heard of the patience of Job." You have all
heard of it, and Job is one of the undying names. So it may be with
you, Beloved. You are, perhaps, to sail through seas of trouble to
reach your crown. God means to use you in His service and make you a
blessing to others, and a teacher of others, by passing you, again and
again, through the fire. One of the ancient warriors said, "I cannot
use in battle a sword that has not been often times hardened. But give
me a Damascus blade that has been so prepared, and I will cut through a
coat of mail, or split a man from head to foot at a single stroke. It
gets its temper and keenness of edge from having slept with the flames
again and again." So must it be with Believers! Full often they are
unfit for God to use till they have been sorely tried.
Perhaps, dear Friend, the Lord is putting you through all this
trouble–(only I hardly like to say it aloud, I must whisper it in your
ears somehow) because He loves you more than anybody else. Dear Samuel
Rutherford, when he wrote to a lady who had lost, I think, seven
children, congratulated her and said, "I am sure that the Well-Beloved
has a strong affection for Your Ladyship, for He will have all your
heart. He has taken away all these children that there may not be a
nook or a corner for anybody else but for Him." So the Lord loves you
much and He is testing you to see whether you can bear His
will–whether you love Him so much that you will take up your cross and
deny yourself, just as, sometimes, architects will ask for their work
to be put to the severest possible tests. "Yes," they say, "see what it
will really bear."
No doubt Stephenson felt great joy when the heaviest train went safely
across his tubular bridge. And other engineers have said, "Yes, put on
as much pressure as you like; it will stand it." Fathers often take
delight in the athletic feats of their sons, and princes revel in the
brave deeds of their warriors. And so does the Lord delight to see what
His people can do and He often puts upon them more and more, to prove
whether they love Him so much that they can bear it all for His sake.
Did not the Lord do this to let Satan see that Job did love his God,
and would still say, "Shall we receive good at the hand of God, and
shall we not receive evil?…The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken
away; blessed be the name of the Lord." We cannot tell what blessing
might come from such a state of heart as that!
It is very possible, dear Friend, also, that God is putting you through
all this trouble that He may enable you to bear great prosperity. Job
was to have twice as much as he had ever had before, and that was a
very great deal, for he said that he washed his steps with butter, and
the rock poured him out rivers of oil. But how much richer he was when
everything was doubled! Job was hardly fit to manage such a large
estate as that until he had been made to see the vanity of it all, and
to get nearer to his God. So, dear Friends, you are going to be
pressed, and squeezed, and tried in order that you may be fitted to
come right out into the front rank and to be magnified and made much of
by the Lord your God! I have noticed this kind of thing happen more
than once. I have seen a man suddenly taken from the very dregs of the
people and put up to preach–and he has been popular all at once.
Nobody has abused him, nobody has said a word against him. But, before
long, he has passed completely out of sight. He could not bear the
weight that was put upon him, and gave way.
You have seen others who have been called of God to preach the Word,
and they have been abused year after year. They could not say anything
that was not perverted. They were called mountebanks, impostors, and I
know not what. And then, when happier days came, and almost all men
spoke well of them, they could bear it, for they had learned to despise
alike the flatteries and the abuse of men! Now, something like that
must happen to all God's servants who are to be greatly honored. If
they are to bear prosperity, they must first go through the fire.
Perhaps that is what the Lord is doing with you, my dear Friend. If so,
be content with your lot.
And, once again, do you not think that the Lord means thus to make you
more like His dear Son than other people are? Some other Christians
have not as much trouble to endure as you have. No, why is it? You know
how an artist can, if he likes, dash off a picture. There! A little
red, a little blue and so on, and it is done. And away it goes! Yes,
but when he wants to paint something that will be observed and admired,
then he takes more pains. Look how he works at every part of it. Note
what care and what trouble he takes with it. It is the same with the
lapidary or the sculptor when he has choice work in hand. And you are,
I hope, the kind of material that will pay for cutting and carving–and
the Lord is using His chisel upon you more than He does upon most folk.
He wants to make you just like His dear Son–so now He is
chipping out a crown of thorns and you must wear it round your head. He
is fashioning the image of His Son out of the block of your renewed
nature and you must patiently bear the blows from His hammer and chisel
till the work is done.
Finally, if I cannot tell you why all this trouble falls to your lot, I
know it is right, for the Lord has done it, and blessed be His name!
Aaron held his peace when his two sons died. He got as far as that in
submission to the will of the Lord. But it will be better still if,
instead of simply holding your peace, you can bless and praise and
magnify the Lord even in your sharpest trouble! Oh, may you be Divinely
helped to do so! Let every troubled soul march out of this place
feeling, "It is good for me that I have been afflicted." Rise, dear
Friend, out of all despondency and despair! Shake yourself from the
dust and put on your beautiful garments of praise and joy, remembering
that–
"Thepath of sorrow, and that path alone, Leads to the land where sorrow
is unknown." You can see the tracks of the martyrs along the road you
are journeying! Better still, you can see the footprints of the Son of
God, your Lord and Savior! Therefore, you may rest assured that you are
on the right road, so press bravely forward on it and, in due time, you
will come to that place of which Job said, "There the wicked cease from
troubling; and there the weary are at rest." And you shall be forever
without fault before the Throne of God!
May He grant this happy portion to you all, for His dear Son's sake!
Amen.