All Joy in All Trials A Sermon

All Joy in All Trials

A Sermon

(No. 1704)

Delivered on Lord's Day Morning, February 4th, 1883, by

C. H. SPURGEON,

At the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington

"My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations;
knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. But let
patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire,
wanting nothing."–James 1:2-4.

James calls the converted among the twelve tribes his brethren.
Christianity has a great uniting power: it both discovers and creates
relationships among the sons of men. It reminds us of the ties of
nature, and binds us with the bonds of grace. Every one that is born of
the Spirit of God is brother to every other that is born of the same
Spirit. Well may we be called brethren, for we are redeemed by one
blood; we are partakers of the same life; we feed upon the same
heavenly food; we are united to the same living head; we seek the same
ends; we love the same Father: we are heirs of the same promises; and
we shall dwell for ever together in the same heaven. Wherefore, let
brotherly love continue; let us love one another with a pure heart
fervently, and manifest that love, not in word only, but in deed and in
truth. Whatever brotherhood may be a sham, let the brotherhood of
believers be the most real thing beneath the stars.

Beginning with this word "brethren," James shows a true brotherly
sympathy with believers in their trials, and this is a main part of
Christian fellowship. "Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfil the
law of Christ." If we are not tempted ourselves at this moment, others
are: let us remember them in our prayers; for in due time our turn will
come, and we shall be put into the crucible. As we would desire to
receive sympathy and help in our hour of need, let us render it freely
to those who are now enduring trial. Let us remember those that are in
bonds, as bound with them, and those that suffer affliction as being
ourselves in the body. Remembering the trials of his brethren, James
tries to cheer them, and therefore he says, "My brethren, count it all
joy when ye fall into divers trials." It is a part of our high calling
to rise ourselves into confidence; and it is also our duty to see that
none of our brethren despond, much less despair. The whole tendency of
our holy faith is to elevate and to encourage. Grace breeds no sorrow,
except the healthy sorrow which comes with saving repentance and leads
to the joy of pardon: it comes not to make men miserable, but to wipe
all tears from their eyes. Our dream is not of devils descending a
dreary staircase to hell, but of angels ascending and descending upon a
ladder, the top of which leads to the shining throne of God. The
message of the gospel is one of joy and gladness, and were it
universally understood and received this world would be no longer a
wilderness, but it would rejoice and blossom as the rose. Let grace
reign in all hearts, and this earth will become a temple filled with
perpetual song; and even the trials of life will become causes of the
highest joy, so beautifully described by James as "all joy," as if
every possible delight were crowded into it. Blessed be God, it is our
work, not to upbraid, but to cheer all the brotherhood: we walk in a
light which glorifies everything upon which it falls, and turns losses
into gains. We are able in sober earnest to speak with the afflicted,
and bid them be patient under the chastening hand of God; yea, to count
it all joy when they fall into divers trials because those trials will
work out for them such signal, such lasting good. They may be well
content to sow in tears since they are sure to reap in joy.

Without further preface we will come at once to the text; and observe
that in speaking about affliction, for that is the subject of the text,
the apostle notes, first, the essential point which is assailed by
temptation, namely, your faith. Your faith is the target that all the
arrows are shot at; the furnace is kindled for the trial of your faith.
Notice, secondly, the invaluable blessing which is thus gained, namely,
the proving of your faith, discovering whether it be the right faith or
no. This proof of our faith is a blessing of which I cannot speak too
highly. Then, thirdly, we may not overlook the priceless virtue which
is produced by this process of testing, namely, patience; for the
proving of your faith produces patience, and this is the soul's surest
enrichment. Lastly, in connection with that patience we shall note the
spiritual completeness which is thus promoted:–"That ye may be perfect
and entire, lacking nothing." Perhaps you have noticed that little
variations I have made in the text; but I am now following the Revised
Version, which gives an admirable rendering. I will read it. "Count it
all joy, my brethren, when ye fall into manifold temptations; knowing
that the proof of your faith worketh patience. And let patience have
its perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, lacking in
nothing."

I. First, let us think a little upon THE ESSENTIAL POINT WHICH IS
ASSAILED by temptation or trial. It is your faith which is tried. It is
supposed that you have that faith. You are not the people of God, you
are not truly brethren unless you are believers. It is this faith of
yours which is peculiarly obnoxious to Satan and to the world which
lieth in the wicked one. If you had not faith they would not be enemies
of yours; but faith is the mark of the chosen of God, and therefore his
foes become the foes of all the faithful, spitting their venom
specially upon their faith. God Himself hath put enmity between the
serpent and the woman, between the serpent's seed and the woman's seed;
and that enmity must show itself. The serpent bites at the heel of the
true seed: hence mockings, persecutions, temptations, and trials are
sure to beset the pathway to faith. The hand of faith is against all
evil, and all evil is against faith. Faith is that blessed grace which
is most pleasing to God, and hence it is the most displeasing to the
devil. By faith God is greatly glorified, and hence by faith Satan is
greatly annoyed. He rages at faith because he sees therein his own
defeat and the victory of grace.

Because the trial of your faith brings honour to the Lord, therefore
the Lord Himself is sure to try it that out of its trial praise may
come to his grace by which faith is sustained. Our chief end is to
glorify God, and if our trials enable us more fully to answer the end
of our being it is well that they should happen unto us. So early in
our discourse we see reason to count it all joy when we fall into
manifold trials.

It is by our faith that we are saved, justified, and brought near to
God, and therefore it is no marvel that it is attacked. It is by
believing in Christ that we are delivered from the reigning power of
sin, and receive power to become the sons of God. Faith is as vital to
salvation as the heart is vital to the body: hence the javelins of the
enemy are mainly aimed at this essential grace. Faith is the standard
bearer, and the object of the enemy is to strike him down that the
battle may be gained. If the foundations be removed what can the
righteous do? If the cable can be snapped whither will the vessel
drift? All the powers of darkness which are opposed to right and truth
are sure to fight against our faith, and manifold temptations will
march in their legions against our confidence in God.

It is by our faith that we live; we began to live by it, and continue
to live by it, for "the just shall live by faith." Once let faith go
and our life is gone; and hence it is that the powers which war against
us make their main assault upon this royal castle, this key of the
whole position. Faith is your jewel, your joy, your glory; and the
thieves who haunt the pilgrim way are all in league to tear it from
you. Hold fast, therefore, this your choice treasure.

It is by faith, too, that Christians perform exploits. If men of old
wrought daring and heroic deeds it was by faith. Faith is the fighting
principle and the conquering principle: therefore it is Satan's policy
to slay it even as Pharaoh sought to kill the male children when Israel
dwelt in Egypt. Rob a Christian of his faith and he will be like Samson
when his locks were cut away: the Philistines will be upon him and the
Lord will have departed from him. Marvel not if the full force of the
current shall beat upon your faith, for it is the foundation of your
spiritual house. Oh that your faith may abide steadfast and unmovable
in all present trials, that so it may be found true in the hour of
death and in the day of judgment. Woe unto that man whose faith fails
him in this land of peace, for what will he do in the swelling of
Jordan?

Now, think of how faith is tried. According to the text we are said to
fall into "manifold temptations" or into "divers temptations"–that is
to say, we may expect very many and very different troubles. In any
case these trials will be most real. The twelve tribes to whom this
epistle was written were a specially tried people, for in the first
place they were, as Jews, greatly persecuted by all other nations, and
when they became Christians they were cruelly persecuted by their own
people. A Gentile convert was somewhat less in peril than a Jewish
Christian, for the latter was crushed between the upper and nether
millstones of Paganism and Judaism. The Israelitish Christian was
usually so persecuted by his own kith and kin that he had to flee from
them, and whither could he go, for all other people abhorred the Jews?
We are not in such a plight, but God's people even to this day will
find that trial is no sham word. The rod in God's house is no toy to
play with. The furnace, believe me, is no mere place of extra warmth to
which you may soon accustom yourself: it is often heated seven times
hotter, like the furnace of Nebuchadnezzar and God's children are made
to know that the fire burns and devours. Our temptations are no
inventions of nervousness nor hobgoblins of dreamy fear. Ye have heard
of the patience of Job–his was real patience, for his afflictions were
real. Could each tried believer among us tell his own story I do not
doubt we would convince all who heard us that the troubles and
temptations which we have endured are no fictions of romance, but must
be ranked among the stern realities of actual life.

Ay, and note too, that the trials of Christians are such as would in
themselves lead us into sin, for I take it that our translators would
not have placed the word "temptation" in the text, and the Revisionists
would not have retained it, if they had not felt that there was a
colouring of temptation in its meaning, and that "trial" was hardly the
word. The natural tendency of trouble is not to sanctify, but to induce
sin. A man is very apt to become unbelieving under affliction: that is
a sin. He is apt to murmur against God under it: that is a sin. He is
apt to put forth his hand to some ill way of escaping from his
difficulty: and that would be sin. Hence we are taught to pray, "Lead
us not into temptation; because trial has in itself a measure of
temptation"; and if it were not neutralized by abundant grace it would
bear us towards sin. I suppose that every test must have in it a
measure of temptation. The Lord cannot be tempted of evil, neither
tempteth he any man; but this is to be understood of his end and
design. He entices no man to do evil; but yet He tries the sincerity
and faithfulness of men by placing them where sin comes in their way,
and does its best or its worst to ensnare them: His design being that
the uprightness of His servants may thus be proved, both to themselves
and others. We are not taken out of this world of temptation, but we
are kept in it for our good. Because our nature is depraved it makes
occasions for sin, both out of our joys and our trials, but by grace we
overcome the tendency of nature, and so derive benefit from
tribulation. Do I not speak to many here who at times feel strong
impulses towards evil, especially in the darksome hour when the spirit
of evil walks abroad? Have you not been made to tremble for yourselves
in season of fierce trial, for your feet were almost gone, your steps
had well-nigh slipped. Is there any virtue that has not been
weather-beaten? Is there any love that has not at times been so tried
that it threatened to curdle into hate? Is there any good thing this
side heaven which has marched all the way in silver slippers? Did ever
a flower of grace blossom in this wretched clime without being tried
with frost or blight? Our way is up the river; we have to stem the
current, and struggle against a flood which would readily bear us to
destruction. Thus, not only trials, but black temptations assail the
Christian's faith.

As to what shape they take, we may say this much: the trial or
temptation of each man is distinct from that of every other. When God
did tempt Abraham he was bidden to take his son, his only son, and
offer him upon a mountain for a sacrifice. Nobody here was ever tried
in that way: nobody ever will be. We may have the trial of losing our
child, but certainly not the trial of having a command to offer him in
sacrifice. That was a trial peculiar to Abraham: necessary and useful
to him, though never proposed to us. In the case of the young man in
the gospels, our Lord Jesus tried him with, "If thou wouldest be
perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou
shalt have treasure in heaven." Some have dreamed that it must
therefore be the duty of everybody to part with their possessions: but
this is idle. It would not be the duty of any man to offer up his only
son; and it is not the duty of every man to part with all his goods.
These were tests to particular persons; and others equally special and
searching have been applied in other cases. We are not to try
ourselves, nor to desire other men's trials; it will be well if we
endure those which the Lord appoints for us, for they will be wisely
chosen. That which would most severely test me would perhaps be no
trial to you; and that which tries you might be no temptation to me.
This is one reason why we often judge one another so severely, because
feeling ourselves to be strong in that particular point we argue that
the fallen one must have been strong in that point too, and therefore
must have willfully and earnestly have determined to do wrong. This may
be a cruel supposition. We hastily conclude that the temptation must
have been as feeble in his case as it would have been in our own; which
is a great mistake, for a temptation which to you or to me would be no
temptation at all, may be to another individual, of a peculiar
constitution and under singular circumstances, a most fierce and
terrible blast from the adversary, before which he falls mournfully,
but not with malice aforethought. Divers trials, says the apostle, and
he knew what he said.

And, dear friends, sometimes these divers trials derive great force
from their seemingly surrounding us, and cutting off escape: James
says,–"Ye fall into divers temptations": like men who fall into a pit,
and do not know how to get out; or like soldiers who fall into an
ambuscade; or travellers in the good old times when two or three
footpaths surrounded them and made them feel that they had fallen into
bad hands. The tempted see not which way to turn; they appear to be
hemmed in; they are as a bird that is taken in the fowler's snare. This
it is that makes calamity of our manifold temptations, that they hedge
up our way, and unless faith finds the clue we wander in a thorny maze.

At times temptation comes suddenly upon us, and so we fall into it.
When we were at rest, and were quiet, suddenly the evil came, like a
lion leaping from the thicket. When Job's children were eating and
drinking in their elder brother's house, then suddenly a wind came from
the wilderness, and the patriarch was bereaved: the cattle were
ploughing, the sheep were grazing, the camels were at their service,
and in a moment, by fire from heaven, and by robber bands, the whole of
these possessions vanished. One messenger had not told his story before
another followed at his heels; Job had no breathing time, the blows
fell thick and fast. The trial of our faith is most severe when divers
trials happen to us when we look not for them. It is not strange in the
light of these things that James should say, "Count it all joy when ye
fall into divers trials"?

Those were the days of tumults, imprisonment, crucifixion, sword, and
fire. Then the amphitheatre devoured Christians by thousands. The
general cry was "The Christians to the lions!" Do you wonder if
sometimes the bravest were made to say, Is our faith really true? This
faith which is abhorred of all mankind, can it be divine? Has it come
from God? Why, then, does He not interpose and deliver His people?
Shall we apostatise? Shall we deny Christ and live, or shall we go on
with our confession through innumerable torments even to a bloody
death? Will fidelity answer after all? Is there a crown of glory? is
there an eternity of bliss? Is there in very deed a resurrection of the
dead? These questions came into men's minds then, and were fairly
faced: the faith of martyrs was not taken up at second hand, or
borrowed from their parents; they believed for themselves in downright
earnest. Men and women in those days believed in such a way that they
never flinched nor started aside from fear of death; indeed, they
pressed forward to confess their faith in Jesus in such crowds that at
last the heathen cried, "There must be something in it: it must be a
religion of God, or how could these men so gladly bear their troubles?"
This was the faith of God's elect, the work of the Holy Ghost.

You see, then, the main point of attack is our faith, and happy is the
man whose shield can catch and quench all the fiery darts of the enemy.

II. That we may make the text more clear we shall next notice THE
INVALUABLE BLESSING WHICH IS GAINED BY THE TRIAL OF OUR FAITH. The
blessing gained is this, that our faith is tried and proved. Two
Sabbaths ago I addressed you upon the man whose bad foundations led to
the overthrow of his house; and I know that many said after the
sermon:–"God grant that we may not be like him: may we have a firm
foundation for our soul to rest on." Then you went home, and you sat
down and said, "Have I this sure foundation?" You began to question,
argue, reason, and so on, and your design was a good one. But I do not
reckon that much came of it; our own looking within seldom yields solid
comfort. Actual trial is far more satisfactory; but you must not try
yourself. The effectual proof is by trials of God's sending. The way of
trying whether you are a good soldier is to go down to the battle: the
way to try whether a ship is well built is, not merely to order the
surveyor to examine her, but to

send her to sea: a storm will be the best test of her staunchness. They
have built a new lighthouse upon the Eddystone: how do we know that it
will stand? We judge by certain laws and principles, and feel tolerably
safe about the structure; but, after all, we shall know best if
after-years when a thousand tempests have beaten upon the lighthouse in
vain. We need trials as a test as much as we need divine truth as our
food. Admire the ancient types placed in the ark of the covenant of
old: two things were laid close together,–the pot of manna and the
rod. See how heavenly food and heavenly rule go together: how our
sustenance and our chastening are equally provided for! A Christian
cannot live without the manna nor without the rod. The two must go
together. I mean this, that it is as great a mercy to have your
salvation proved to you under trial as it is to have it sustained in
you by the consolations of the Spirit of God. Sanctified tribulations
work the proof of our faith, and this is more precious than that of
gold which perisheth, though it be tried by fire.

Now, when we are able to bear it without starting aside, the trial
proves our sincerity. Coming out of a trouble the Christian says to
himself, "Yes, I held fast mine integrity, and did not let it go.
Blessed be God, I was not afraid of threatening; I was not crushed by
losses; I was kept true to God under pressure. Now, I am sure that my
religion is not a mere profession, but a real consecration to God. It
has endured the fire, being kept by the power of God."

Next, it proves the truthfulness of our doctrinal belief. Oh, yes, you
may say, "I have heard Mr. Spurgeon expound the doctrines, and I have
believed them." This is poor work; but if you have been sick, and found
a comfort in those doctrines, then you are assured of their truth. If
you have been on the borders of the grave, and the gospel has given you
joy and gladness, then you know how true it is. Experimental knowledge
is the best and surest. If you have seen others pass through death
itself triumphantly you have said, "This is proof to me: my faith is no
guess-work: I have seen for myself." Is not this assurance cheaply
purchased at any price? May we not count it all joy when the Lord puts
us in the way of getting it? It seems to me that doubt is worse than
trial. I had sooner suffer any affliction than be left to question the
gospel or my own interest in it. Certainly it is a jewel worth
purchasing even with our heart's blood.

Next, your own faith in God is proved when you can cling to Him under
temptation. Not only your sincerity, but the divinity of your faith is
proved; for a faith that is never tried, how can you depend upon it?
But if in the darkest hour you have still said, "I cast my burden upon
the Lord, and He will sustain me," and you find He does sustain you,
then is your faith that of God's elect. If in temptation you cry to God
in prayer that you may keep your garment unspotted, and He helps you to
do so, then also are you sure that yours is the faith which the Spirit
begets in the soul. After a great fight of affliction, when I come
forth a conqueror, I know that I do believe in God, and I know that
this faith makes me a partaker of covenant blessings; from this I may
fairly argue that my faith is of the right kind.

I find it especially sweet to learn the great strength of the Lord in
my own weakness. We find out under trial where we are most weak, and
just then in answer to prayer strength is given answerable to the need.
The Lord suits the help to the hindrance, and puts the plaster on the
wound. In the very hour when it is needed the needed grace is given.
Does this not tend to breed assurance of faith?

It is a splendid thing to be able to prove even to Satan the purity of
your motives. That was the great gain of Job. There was no question
about his outward conduct, but the question was about his motive. "Ah,"
says the devil, "he serves God for what he gets out of Him. Hast Thou
not set a hedge about him and all that he has? His is cupboard love: he
cares nothing for God Himself, he only cares for the reward of his
virtue." Well, he is tried, and everything is taken away, and when he
cries, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him," when he blesses
the taking as well as the giving God, then the devil himself could not
have the prudence to accuse him again. As to Job's own conscience, it
would be quite settled and confirmed as to his pure love to God. My
brethren, I reckon that the endurance of every imaginable suffering and
trial would be a small price to pay for a settled assurance, which
would for ever prevent the possibility of doubt. Never mind the waves
if they wash you upon this rock. Therefore, when you are tempted,
"Count it all joy" that you are tried, because you will thus receive a
proof of your love, a proof of your faith, a proof of your being the
true-born children of God.

James says, "Count it." A man requires to be trained to be a good
accountant; it is an art which needs to be learned. What muddles some
of us would make if we had to settle accounts and manage disbursements
and incomings without the aid of a clerk! How we should get entangled
with balances and deficits! We could much easier spend money than count
it. But when a man once knows the science of book-keeping, and gets
into the way of it, he readily arrives at the true position of affairs.
He has learned to count, and no error escapes his eye. James gives us a
ready reckoner, and teaches us in our troubles how to count. He sets
before us a different kind of measure from that which carnal reason
would use: the shekel of the sanctuary was very different from the
shekel in common commerce, and so is the counting of faith far other
than that of human judgment. He bids us take our pen and sit down
quickly and write at his correct dictation. You are going to write
down, "Manifold temptations;" that would be so much on the wrong side:
but instead thereof he bids you set down the proving of your faith, and
this one asset transforms the transaction into a substantial gain.
Trials are like a fire; they burn up nothing in us but the dross, and
they make the gold all the purer. Put down the testing process as a
clear gain, and, instead of being sorry about it, count it all joy when
ye fall into divers trials, for this bestows upon you a proof of your
faith. So far there is sufficient ground for counting all trials joy.
Now, let us go a little further.

III. Let us think of THE PRICELESS VIRTUE WHICH IS PRODUCED BY TRIAL,
namely, patience; for the proof of your "faith worketh patience."
Patience! We all have a large stock of it–until we need it, and then
we have none. The man who truly possesses patience is the man that has
been tried. What kind of patience does he get by the grace of God?
First, he obtains a patience that accepts the trials as from God
without a murmur. Calm resignation does not come all at once; often
long years of physical pain, or mental depression, or disappointment in
business, or multiplied bereavements, are needed to bring the soul into
full submission to the will of the Lord. After much crying the child is
weaned; after much chastening the son is made obedient to his Father's
will. By degrees we learn to end our quarrel with God, and to desire
that there may not be two wills between God and ourselves, but that
God's will may be our will. Oh, brother, if your troubles work you to
that, you are a gainer, I am sure, and you may count them all joy.

The next kind of patience is when experience enables a man to bear
ill-treatment, slander, and injury without resentment. He feels it
keenly, but he bears it meekly. Like his Master, he opens not his mouth
to reply, and refuses to return railing for railing. Contrariwise he
gives blessing in return for cursing; like the sandal-wood tree which
perfumes the axe which cuts it. Blessed is that holy charity which
hopeth all things, endureth all things, and is not easily provoked. Ah,
friend, if the grace of God by trial shall work in you the quiet
patience which never grows angry, and never ceases to love, you may
have lost a trifle of comfort, but you have gained a solid weight of
character.

The patience which God works in us by tribulation also takes another
form, namely, that of acting without undue haste. Before wisdom has
balanced our zeal we are eager to serve God all in a hurry, with a rush
and a spurt, as if everything must be done within the hour or nothing
would ever be accomplished. We set about holy service with somewhat
more of preparedness of heart after we have been drilled in the school
of trial. We go steadily and resolutely about work for Jesus, knowing
what poor creatures we are, and what a glorious Master we serve. The
Lord our God is in no hurry because He is strong and wise. In
proportion as we grow like the Lord Jesus we shall cast aside
disturbance of mind and fury of spirit. His was a grand life-work, but
He never seemed to be confused, excited, worried, or hurried, as
certain of His people are. He did not strive nor cry, nor cause His
voice to be heard in the streets. He knew His hour was not yet come,
and there were so many days in which He could work, and therefore He
went steadily on till He had finished the work which His Father had
given Him to do. That kind of patience is a jewel more to be desired
than the gem which glitters on the imperial brow. Sometimes we blunder
into a deal of mischief, making more haste than speed; and we are sure
to do so when we forget to pray, and fail to commit our matters into
the Divine hands. We may run with such vehemence that we may stumble,
or lose our breath: there may be in our random efforts as much undoing
as doing, for want of possessing our souls in patience.

That is a grand kind of patience, too, when we can wait without
unbelief. Two little words are good for every Christian to learn and to
practise–pray and stay. Waiting on the Lord implies both praying and
staying. What if the world is not converted this year! What if the Lord
Jesus does not come to-morrow! What if still our tribulations are
lengthened out! What if the conflict is continued! He that has been
tried and by grace has obtained the true profit of his trials, both
quietly waits and joyfully hopes for the salvation of God. Patience,
brother! Is this high virtue scarce with thee? The Holy Spirit shall
bestow it upon thee through suffering.

This patience also takes the shape of believing without wavering, in
the very teeth of strange providences and singular statements, and
perhaps inward misgivings. The established Christian says, "I believe
my God, and therefore if the vision tarry I will wait for it. My time
is not yet come. I am to have my worst things first and my best things
afterwards, and so I sit me down at Jesus' feet and tarry his leisure."

Brothers and sisters, if, in a word, we learn endurance we have taken a
high degree. You look at the weather-beaten sailor, the man who is at
home on the sea: he has a bronzed face and mahogany-coloured flesh, he
looks as tough as heart of oak, and as hardy as if he were made of
iron. How different from us poor landsmen. How did the man become so
inured to hardship, so able to breast the storm, so that he does not
care whether the wind blows south-west or north-west? He can go out to
sea in any kind of weather; he has his sea legs on: how did he come to
this strength? By doing business in great waters. He could not have
become a hardy seaman by tarrying on shore. Now, trial works in the
saints that spiritual hardihood which cannot be learned in ease. You
may go to school for ever, but you cannot learn endurance there: you
may colour your cheek with paint, but you cannot give it that ingrained
brown which comes of stormy seas and howling winds. Strong faith and
brave patience come of trouble, and a few men in the church who have
thus been prepared are worth anything in times of tempest. To reach
that condition of firm endurance and sacred hardihood is worth all the
expense of all the heaped-up troubles that ever come upon us from above
or from beneath. When trial worketh patience we are incalculably
enriched. The Lord give us more of this choice grace. As Peter's fish
had the money in its mouth, so have sanctified trials spiritual riches
for those who endure them graciously.

IV. Lastly, all this works something better still, and this is our
fourth head: THE SPIRITUAL COMPLETENESS PROMOTED. "That ye may be
perfect and entire, wanting nothing." Brethren, the most valuable thing
a man can get in this world is that which has most to do with his
truest self. A man gets a good house; well, that is something: but
suppose he is in bad health, what is the good of his fine mansion? A
man is well clothed and well fed: that is something: but suppose he
shivers with ague, and has no appetite through indigestion. That spoils
it all. If a man is in robust health this is a far more valuable boon.
Health is far more to be prized than wealth, or honour, or learning: we
all allow that, but then suppose that a man's innermost self is
diseased while his body is healthy, so that he is disgraced by vice or
fevered with passion, he is in a poor plight, notwithstanding that he
has such a robust frame? The very best thing is that which will make
the man himself a better man; make him right, and true, and pure, and
holy. When the man himself is better, he has made an unquestionable
gain. So, if our afflictions tend, by trying our faith, to breed
patience, and that patience tends to make us into perfect men in Christ
Jesus, then we may be glad of trials. Afflictions by God's grace make
us all-around men, developing every spiritual faculty, and therefore
they are our friends, our helpers, and should be welcomed with "all
joy."

Afflictions find out our weak points, and this makes us attend to them.
Being tried, we discover our failures, and then going to God about
those failures we are helped to be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.

Moreover, our trials, when blessed of God to make us patient, ripen us.
I do not know how to explain what I mean by ripening, but there is a
sort of mellowness about believers who have endured a great deal of
affliction that you never meet in other people. It cannot be mistaken
or imitated. A certain measure of sunlight is wanted to bring out the
real flavour of fruits, and when a fruit has felt its measure of
burning sun it develops a lusciousness which we all delight in. So is
it in men and women: a certain amount of trouble appears to be needful
to create a certain sugar of graciousness in them, so that they may
contain the rich, ripe juice of a gracious character. You must have
known such men and such women, and have said to yourselves, "I wish I
could be like them, so calm, so quiet, so self-contained, so happy, and
when not happy, yet so content not to be happy; so mature in judgment,
so spiritual in conversation, so truly ripe." This only comes to those
in whom the proof of their faith works experience, and then experience
brings forth the fruits of the Spirit. Dear brothers and sisters, there
is a certain all-roundness of spiritual manhood which never comes to us
except by manifold temptations. Let me attempt to show you what I mean.
Sanctified trials produce a chastened spirit. Some of us by nature are
rough and untender; but after awhile friends notice that the roughness
is departing, and they are quite glad to be more gently handled. Ah,
that sick chamber did the polishing; under God's grace, that depression
of spirit, that loss, that cross, that bereavement,–these softened the
natural ruggedness, and made the man meek and lowly, like his Lord.
Sanctified trouble has a great tendency to breed sympathy, and sympathy
is to the church as oil to machinery. A man that has never suffered
feels very awkward when he tries to sympathize with a tried child of
God. He kindly does his best, but he does not know how to go to work at
it; but those repeated blows from the rod make us feel for others who
are smarting, and by degrees we are recognized as being the Lord's
anointed comforters, made meet by temptation to succour those who are
tempted.

Have you never noticed how tried men, too, when their trouble is
thoroughly sanctified, become cautious and humble? They cannot speak
quite so fast as they used to do: they do not talk of being absolutely
perfect, though thy are the very men who are Scripturally perfect; they
say little about their doings, and much about the tender mercy of the
Lord. They recollect the whipping they had behind the door from their
Father's hands, and they speak gently to other erring ones. Affliction
is the stone which our Lord Jesus throws at the brow of our giant
pride, and patience is the sword which cuts off its head.

Those, too, are the kind of people who are most grateful. I have known
what it is to praise God for the power to move one leg in bed. It may
not seem much to you, but it was a great blessing to me. They that are
heavily afflicted come to bless God for everything. I am sure that
woman who took a piece of bread and a cup of water for her breakfast,
and said, "What, all this, and Christ too!" must have been a tried
woman, or she would not have exhibited so much gratitude. And that old
Puritan minister was surely a tried man, for when his family had only a
herring and a few potatoes for dinner, he said, "Lord, we bless Thee
that Thou hast ransacked sea and land to find food for us this day." If
he had not been a tried man, he might have turned up his nose at the
meal, as many do at much more sumptuous fare. Troubled men get to be
grateful men, and that is no small thing.

As a rule, where God's grace works, these come to be hopeful men. Where
others think the storm will destroy the vessel, they can remember
storms equally fierce which did not destroy it, and so they are so calm
that their courage keeps others from despair.

These men, too, become unworldly men. They have had too much trouble to
think that they can ever build their nest in this black forest. There
are too many thorns in their nest for them to reckon that this can be
their home. These birds of paradise take to their wings, and are ready
to fly away to the land of unfading flowers.

And these much-tempted ones are frequently the most spiritual men, and
out of this spirituality comes usefulness. Mr. Greatheart, who led the
band of pilgrims up to the celestial city, was a man of many trials, or
he would not have been fit to lead so many to their heavenly rest; and
you, dear brother, if ever you are to be a leader and a helper, as you
would wish to be, in the church of God, it must be by such means as
this that you must be prepared for it. Do you not wish to have every
virtue developed? Do you not wish to become a perfect man in Christ
Jesus? If so, welcome with all joy divers trials and temptations; fly
to God with them; bless Him for having sent them: ask Him to help you
to bear them with patience, and then let that patience have its perfect
work, and so by the Spirit of God you shall become "perfect and entire,
lacking in nothing." May the Comforter bless this word to your hearts,
for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen.