We cannot believe that this is purely a seed-time. Like children, we are
for reaping where we have not sown, and gathering where we have not
strawed. Or, if by chance we drop a seed into the earth and leave it for
a moment, next morning we are digging about it to see if it is growing,
and are sick at heart if it promises no immediate fruit. The Hebrew
Church demanded the instant fruitage of the death of Christ. “_And Jesus
answered them, saying, The hour is come, that the Son of man should be
glorified. Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall
into the ground and die, it abideth alone; but if it die, it bringeth
forth much fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose it; and he that
hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal._” (John
xii. 23–25.) Lord, we have seen the seed corn cast into the ground, we
have seen it lie there, we have seen it rise, and where is the harvest?
Where is the kingdom? Where are the throngs? Where is the throne? The
offence of the cross still lies in the way of triumph. Tribulations are
the only gifts of the kingdom still! The writer of this epistle does not
care to argue about the moment. Be it so. Be it as bad as you say:
tribulations, persecutions, contempt, spoiling of your goods, and bonds.
Be it so. “_Ye have not yet resisted unto blood, striving against sin._”
You have not faced the last extremity, and the last extremity may be in
store. But what matters? Sons of God, brethren of Christ, citizens of
the heavenly state, heirs of everlasting joys and glory, what matters
it? “_Behold, the husbandman waiteth for the precious fruit of the
earth, and hath long patience for it, until he receive the early and
latter rain. Be ye also patient; stablish your hearts: for the coming of
the Lord draweth nigh. Grudge not one against another, brethren, lest ye
be contemned: behold, the judge standeth before the door. Take, my
brethren, the prophets, who have spoken in the name of the Lord, for an
example of suffering affliction, and of patience. Behold, we count them
happy which endure. Ye have heard of the patience of Job, and have seen
the end of the Lord; that the Lord is very pitiful, and of tender
mercy._” (Jas. v. 7–11.) Is patience no longer beautiful, divine, when
it is heaven which has to be waited for, a royal sceptre, an everlasting
crown? For shame! moaning over the moment’s pains, which are the seeds
of everlasting joys; over the dust of the husks and shells of the
temporal things, when, as they waste and perish, the glorious forms of
the things not seen and eternal, which they veiled, appear. I say not,
Compare the one with the other, weigh them well, and make your
selection. There is no comparison possible. “_I reckon that the
sufferings of this present life are not worthy to be compared with the
glory that shall be revealed._” “_For our light affliction, which is but
for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of
glory; while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things
which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the
things which are not seen are eternal._” (2 Cor. iv. 17, 18.) It is
blank unbelief to talk about comparison. The one is infinitely small and
pitiful; the other is infinitely great, beautiful, and glorious. “_What
things were gain to me_,” when the visible things of earth and time
filled my sight, “those I have counted loss for Christ. Yea, doubtless,
and I count all things but loss, for the excellency of the knowledge of
Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things,
and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ.” (Phil. iii. 7, 8.)
This is the Christian estimate. This is the true entrenchment of the
human spirit against all the floods of calamity which may beat around
the rock on which it builds its hopes. Be my lot what it may, my God, my
Father ordains it; and He has the power, the will to make every pain,
every wound, every heartache, every cross, every shock, the seed of a
harvest whose glorious wealth I cannot measure even in my dreams. The
power and the will, said I? His strongest promises, His profoundest
purposes, are engaged in the fulfilment of the hope which He kindles in
my breast, and which makes me master of the world. Nay, He has staked
His life, the very existence of His throne, upon it. He has subjected
you and me and the vast creation to vanity, “_in hope, the hope that the
creation itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption
into the glorious liberty of the sons of God_.” We have no true measure
of these sad scenes and experiences of earth—and they are sad enough,
nothing is to be gained by painting them as lighter than they are; but
we can measure them fairly when we get up into the higher region, strong
in faith, and share the thought and hope of God. _We are saved by hope._
Let us bless God for it, for the blessed and boundless future in which
the far-off interest of tears will be our eternal portion, and the
harvest of brave endurance and patient pain. “_Behold we count them
patient which endure._” And who are they? The world’s weaklings and
fools. Listen to the bead-roll, and hush your moans for very shame.
Abel, Enoch, Noah head the line; Abraham, Isaac, Jacob. “_These all died
in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar
off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that
they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. For they that say such
things declare plainly that they seek a country. And truly, if they had
been mindful of that country from whence they came out, they might have
had opportunity to have returned. But now they desire a better country,
that is an heavenly: wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their
God: for he hath prepared for them a city._” (Heb. xi. 13–16.) “_And
what shall I more say? for the time would fail me to tell of Gedeon, and
of Barak, and of Samson, and of Jephthae; of David also, and Samuel, and
of the prophets: who through faith subdued kingdoms, wrought
righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched
the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness
were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies of
the aliens. Women received their dead raised to life again: and others
were tortured, not accepting deliverance; that they might obtain a
better resurrection: and others had trial of cruel mockings and
scourgings, yea, moreover of bonds and imprisonment; they were stoned,
they were sawn asunder, were tempted, were slain with the sword: they
wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins; being destitute, afflicted,
tormented; (of whom the world was not worthy:) they wandered in deserts,
and in mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth._” (Heb. xi.
32–38.) “_And these all_”—the world’s chief heroes, whose names are
dear and honoured through the ages on earth, as they shine resplendent
as the stars in heaven’s firmament on high—“_These all, having obtained
a good report through faith, received not the promise; God having
provided some better thing for us, that they without us should not be
made perfect._” (Heb. xi. 39, 40.) “Wherefore seeing ye are compassed
about with so great a crowd of witnesses”—these grand and glorious
forms, who watch your battles from their thrones, and prepare to hail
your triumphant entrance to the kingdom which the victory of faith shall
win—“_lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset
you, and run with patience the race that is set before you, looking unto
Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set
before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at
the right hand of the throne of God_.” (Heb. xii. 1, 2.)