"Ye shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon
you."
HAD there been no sin our Heavenly Father would have found other
means by which to develop in us passive virtues, and train us in
the graces of meekness, patience, long-suffering, and forbearance,
which so beautify and display the Christian character. But since
sin is here, with its contradictions and falsehoods, its darkness,
its wars, brutalities and injustices, producing awful harvests of
pain and sorrow, God, in wonderful wisdom and lovingkindness,
turns even these into instruments by which to fashion in us
beautiful graces. Storm succeeds sunshine, and darkness the light;
pain follows hard on the heels of pleasure, while sorrow peers
over the shoulder of joy; gladness and grief, rest and toil,
peace and war, interminably intermingled, follow each other in
ceaseless succession in this world. We cannot escape suffering
while in the body. But we can receive it with a faith that robs
it of its terror, and extracts from it richest blessing; from
the flinty rock will gush forth living waters, and the carcase
of the lion will furnish the sweetest honey.
This is so even when the suffering is a result of our own folly
or sin. It is intended not only in some measure as a punishment,
but also as a teacher, a corrective, a remedy, a warning; and it
will surely work for good, if, instead of repining and vainly
regretting the past, we steadily look unto Jesus and learn our
lesson in patience and thankfulness.
"If all the skies were sunshine,
Our faces would be fain
To feel once more upon them
The cooling plash of rain.
"If all the world were music,
Our hearts would often long
For one sweet strain of silence
To break the endless song.
"If life were always merry,
Our souls would seek relief
And rest from weary laughter
In the quiet arms of grief."
Doubtless all our suffering is a result of sin, but not
necessarily the sin of the sufferer. Jesus was the sinless One,
but He was also the Chief of sufferers. Paul's great and lifelong
sufferings came upon him, not because of his sins, but rather
because he had forsaken sin, and was following Jesus in a world
of sin, and seeking the salvation of his fellows. In this path
there is no escape from suffering, though there are hidden and
unspeakable consolations. "In the world ye shall have tribulation,"
said Jesus. "All that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer
persecution," wrote Paul.
Sooner or later, suffering in some form comes to each of us. It
may come through broken health, or pain and weariness of body; or
through mental anguish, moral distress, spiritual darkness and
uncertainty. It may come through the loss of loved ones, through
betrayal by trusted friends; or through deferred or ruined hopes,
or base ingratitude; or perhaps in unrequited toil and sacrifice
and ambitions all unfulfilled. Nothing more clearly distinguishes
the man filled with the Spirit from the man who is not than the
way each receives suffering.
One with triumphant faith and shining face and strong heart
glories in tribulation, and counts it all joy. To this class
belong the Apostles, who, beaten and threatened, "departed from
the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer
shame for His Name" (Acts v. 41).
The other with doubts and fears, murmurs and complains, and to
his other miseries adds that of a rebellious heart and discontented
mind. One sees the enemy's armed host, and unmixed distress
and danger; the other sees the angel of the Lord, with abundant
succour and safety (2 Kings vi. 15-17).
An evangelist of my acquaintance told a story that illustrates
this. When a pastor he went one morning to visit two sisters who
were greatly afflicted. They were about the same age, and had
long been professing Christians and members of the Church. He
asked the first one upon whom he called, "How is it with you this
morning?" "Oh, I have not slept all night," she replied. "I have
so much pain. It is so hard to have to lie here. I cannot see why
God deals so with me." Evidently, she was not filled with the
Spirit, but was in a controversy with the Lord about her
sufferings, and would not be comforted.
Leaving her he called immediately upon the other sister, and
asked, "How are you to-day?" "Oh, I had such a night of
suffering!" she replied. "Then," said he, "there came out upon
her worn face, furrowed and pale, a beautiful radiance, and she
added, "but Jesus was so near and helped me so, that I could
suffer this way and more, if my Father thinks best"; and on she
went with like words of cheer and triumph that made the sick room
a vestibule of glory. No lack of comfort in her heart, for the
Comforter Himself, the Holy Spirit, had been invited and had come
in. One had the Comforter in fullness, the other had not.
Probably, no man ever suffered more than Paul, but with soldier-like
fortitude he bore his heavy burdens, faced his constant and
exacting labours, endured his sore trials, disappointments, and
bitter persecutions by fierce and relentless enemies; he stood
unmoved amid shipwrecks, stripes and imprisonments, cold, hunger,
and homelessness without a whimper that might suggest repining or
discouragement, or an appeal for pity. Indeed, he went beyond
simple uncomplaining fortitude, and said, "we glory in tribulation"
(Romans v. 3); "I am exceeding joyful in all our tribulation"
(2 Cor. vii. 4); "I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches,
in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake"
(2 Cor. xii. 10). After a terrible scourging upon his bare back,
he was thrust into a loathsome inner dungeon, his feet fast in
the stocks, with worse things probably awaiting him on the morrow.
Nevertheless, we find him and Silas, his companion in suffering,
at midnight praying and singing praises unto God (Acts xvi. 25).
What is his secret? Listen to him: "Because the love of God is
shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto
us" (Romans v. 5). His prayer for his Ephesian brethren had been
answered in his own heart: "That He would grant you, according to
the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with might by His
Spirit in the inner man; that Christ may dwell in your hearts by
faith." And this inner strength and consciousness, through faith,
in an indwelling Christ enabled him to receive suffering and
trial, not stoically as the Red Indian, nor hilariously, in a
spirit of bravado, but cheerfully and with a thankful heart.
Arnold of Rugby has written something about his "most dear and
blessed sister" that illustrates the power flowing from
exhaustless fountains of inner joy and strength through the
working of the Holy Spirit. He says:--
"I never saw a more perfect instance of the spirit and power of
love, and of a sound mind. Her life was a daily martyrdom for
twenty years, during which she adhered to her early-formed
resolution of never talking about herself; she was thoughtful
about the very pins and ribands of my wife's dress, about the
making of a doll's cap for a child--but of herself, save only as
regarded her ripening in all goodness, wholly thoughtless,
enjoying everything lovely, graceful, beautiful, high-minded,
whether in God's works or man's, with the keenest relish;
inheriting the earth to the very fullness of the promise, though
never leaving her crib, nor changing her posture; and preserved,
through the very valley of the shadow of death, from all fear or
impatience, and from every cloud of impaired reason, which might
mar the beauty of Christ's and the Spirit's work."
It is not by hypnotising the soul, nor by blessing it into a
state of ecstatic insensibility, that the Lord enables the man
filled with the Spirit to thus triumph over suffering. Rather it
is by giving the soul a sweet, constant, and unshaken assurance
through faith: First, that it is freely and fully accepted in
Christ. Second, that whatever suffering comes, it is measured,
weighed, and permitted by love infinitely tender, and guided by
wisdom that cannot err. Third, that however difficult it may be
to explain suffering now, it is nevertheless _one_ of the
"all things" which "work together for good to them that love
God," and that in a "little while" it will not only be swallowed
up in the ineffable blessedness and glory, but that in some way
it is actually helping to work out "a far more exceeding and
eternal weight of glory" (2 Cor. iv. 7). Fourth, that though the
furnace has been heated seven times hotter than was wont, yet
"the Form... like unto the Son of God" is walking with us in the
fire; though triumphant enemies have thrust us into the lions'
den, yet the angel of the Lord arrived first and locked the
lions' jaws; though foes may have formed against us sharp
weapons, yet they cannot prosper, for His shield and buckler
defend us; though all things be lost, yet "Thou remainest"; and
though "my flesh and my heart may fail, God is the strength of my
heart and my portion for ever."
Not all God's dear children thus triumph over their difficulties
and sufferings, but this is God's standard, and they may attain
unto it, if, by faith, they will open their hearts and "be filled
with the Spirit."