'He will send another Comforter,' 'that He may abide with you for ever,
even the Spirit of Truth.' I suppose I may take it for granted that
most of my audience know all that need be said as to the meaning of
this word 'Comforter.' In our present modern English it has a very much
narrower range of meaning than its etymology would give it, and than
probably it had when it was first used in an English translation.
'Comforter' means a great deal more than 'consoler,' though we have
narrowed it to that signification almost exclusively. It means not only
one who administers sweet whispers of consolation in sorrow, but one
who, in any circumstances, by his presence makes strong. And the
original Greek word, of which it is the translation here, has a
precisely analogous meaning; its original signification being that of
'one who is called to the aid of another,' primarily as an advocate in
a court of law, but more widely as a helper in any form whatsoever. And
that is the idea which is to be attached to the word here:—a Comforter
who makes strong by His presence; the Paraclete, who is our Advocate,
Helper, Guide, and Instructor. Need I dwell upon the great thoughts
that spring from that metaphor; how we have to look for a Person, and
not merely a vague influence; a divine Person who will be by our sides
on condition of our faith, love, and obedience, to be our Strength in
all weakness, our Peace in all trouble, our Wisdom in all darkness, our
Guide in every perplexity, our Comforter and Cherisher, our
Righteousness when sin is strong, the Victor over our temptations, and
the Companion and Sweetener of our solitude? The metaphors with which
Scripture represents this great personal Influence are full of
instruction and beauty. He comes as 'the Fire,' which melts, which
warms, which cleanses, which quickens. He comes as the 'rushing, mighty
Wind,' which bears health upon its wings, and sometimes breathes softly
as an infant's breath, and sometimes sweeps with irresistible power. He
comes as the 'Oil,' gently flowing, lubricating, making every joint
supple, nourishing. He comes as the 'Water of Life,' refreshing,
vitalising, quickening all growth. He comes fluttering down as the Dove
of God, the bird of peace that will brood upon our hearts. The
predicates which Scripture attaches to that great Name are equally
various, and are full of teaching as to the manner in which He is the
Comforter and the Advocate. He is the Spirit of Holiness, the Spirit of
Truth, the Spirit of Wisdom, the Spirit of Power, the Spirit of Love,
the Spirit of a sound Mind, the Spirit of Sonship, the Spirit of
Supplication, and of many great things besides. And this sweet, strong,
all-sufficient Person is offered to each of us, and waits to enter our
hearts.
And, says Christ, this Strengthener and Advocate is to replace Me and
to carry on My work. 'He will send _another_ Comforter.' Who was the
other but the Master who was speaking? So all that that handful of men
had found of sweetness and shelter and assured guidance, and stay for
their weakness, and enlightenment for their darkness, and companionship
for their solitude, and a breast on which to rest their heads, and love
in which to bathe their hearts, all _these_ this divine Spirit will
bring to each of us if we will.
And further, our Lord tells us that this strong continuer of His
presence will be a permanent Companion. 'He will abide with you for
ever.' He was comforting the disciples who were trembling at the
thought of His departure, and knowing that all the sweetness of these
three short years had come to an end; and He says to them, and through
them to all the ages to the end of time: 'Here is the abiding Guest,
that nothing but your own sin will ever cast out from your hearts.'
And Christ tells us how this great Spirit will do His work. He is the
'Spirit of Truth,' not as if He brought new truth. To suppose that He
does so, opens the door to all manner of fanaticism, but the truth, the
revelation of which is all summed and finished in the person and work
of Jesus Christ, is the weapon by which the divine Spirit works all His
conquests, the staff on which He makes us lean and be strong. He is the
Spirit by whom the truth passes into our personal possession, by no
mere imperfect form of outward teaching which is always confused and
insufficient, but by the inward teaching that deals with our hearts and
our spirits.
But Christ speaks, too, of the blind world. There is a tone of deep
sadness in His words. The thought of the immense multitude of men who
were incapacitated to receive this Strengthener steals across and casts
a momentary shadow upon even the brightness and greatness of His
promise. 'The world cannot receive because it seeth Him not, neither
knoweth Him.' The 'world' is the mass of man, considered as godless and
separate from Him, and there is a bit of the world in us all; but there
are men who are wholly under its influence and dominion. And these men,
says Christ, are perfectly incapable of receiving the teaching of this
divine Comforter. Of course there are other operations of that Great
Spirit of which we shall have to hear as we go on further in this
context, in which His work 'convicts the world of sin and of
righteousness and of judgment.' But what our Lord is speaking of here
is the work of that Spirit who comes in response to His prayer which
rises in consequence of our obedience, and who, coming, brings with Him
strength and purity and peace and wisdom; and that aspect of His
operations a heart that is all full and seething with the world is
unfit to receive. It cannot see Him. Embruted natures are altogether
incapacitated for high thoughts, for the perception of natural beauty,
for the appreciation of art; and worldly men, by the very same law, are
incapable of receiving this divine Spirit. A savage stares at the
sunshine and sees nothing but a glare. And worldly men—that is to say,
men whose tastes, inclinations, desires, hopes, purposes, strivings,
are all bound by this visible diurnal round—lack the organ that enables
them to see that divine Spirit moving round about them. Whether you
have put your eyes out by fleshly lusts, or, as many men in this
generation have done, by intellectual self-sufficiency and conceit, if
the world, in its grosser or in its most refined forms, is your master,
you are stone blind to all the best realities of the universe, and you
cannot see the things that are. If you look out upon the history of the
Church, or upon the present condition of Christendom, and say, 'I see
no divine Spirit working there'; well, then, the only thing that is to
be said to you is, 'Go to an oculist; your sight is bad. Perhaps there
is solid land, as some of us see it, where you see only mist.' This
generation needs the preaching of a supernatural power at work beside
us, and among us, and until we come to believe _that_, we do not
understand the fullness of Christ's gift.