TITLE ARTICLE ONE

Comfort in the Night of Weeping

Horatius Bonar (1808-1889)

“For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning”—Psalm 30:5.

O bring many sons unto glory was the end for which the Son of God took flesh and died. This was no common, no inferior object. So vast and worthy did Jehovah deem it that it pleased Him for the attaining of it to “make the captain of their salvation perfect through sufferings” (Heb 2:10). It was an object worthy of the God “for whom are all things, and by whom are all things.” It was an object glorious enough to render it “becoming” in Him to make Jesus pass through suffering and death and to justify the Father in not sparing His only begotten Son.

They for whom God has done all this must be very precious in His sight. He must be much in earnest indeed to bless them and to take them to be with Him forever. As He so delighted in Enoch that He could no longer bear the separation and the distance, but took him to be with Him without tasting death, and long ere he had run the common race of man, so with His saints. He is making haste to bring them to glory, for the day of absence has been long.

The glory which He has in reserve for them must be surpassing glory, for it was to bring them to it that He was willing to bruise His Son and to put Him to grief. Eye hath not seen it; ear hath not heard it; it is far beyond what we can comprehend, yet it is all reality. God is not ashamed to be called our God because He hath prepared for us a city. Were that city not worthy of Himself, He would be ashamed to have called Himself by the name of “our God.” For that implies large blessings on His part, and it leads to large expectations on ours, expectations which He cannot disappoint.

He did not count this glory to be bought for us at too dear a rate, even though the price was the sufferings of His only begotten Son. If, then, God thus estimated the glory to which we were to be brought, shall not we do the same? If He thought it worth all the sufferings of His Son, shall we not think it worth our poor sufferings here? Shall we not say, “For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us” (Rom 8:18)?

This is consolation.[2] It is that which most naturally occurs to us, and it is both scriptural and effectual. This is what is usually presented to the afflicted saint, and it is what he feels to be very precious and suitable. But though the most common and the most natural consolation, it is by no means the only one. Let us suggest a few others.

1. Jesus weeps with us. “In all [our] affliction he [is] afflicted” (Isa 63:9). He knows our sorrows, for He has passed through them all, and therefore He feels for us. He is touched with the feeling of our griefs as well as of our infirmities. Man—very man—man all over, even in His glory, He enters most fully into the fellowship of our burdens and sorrow, whatever these may be; for there is not one which He did not taste when He “dwelt among us” here. His is sympathy—deep, real, and true. It is no fiction, no fancy.[3] We do not see His tears falling upon us; neither do we clasp His hand nor feel the beating of His heart against ours.

But still His communion with us in suffering is a reality. We may not understand how it can be. But He understands it; and He can make us feel it, whether we can comprehend it or not.

2. We are made partakers of Christ’s sufferings. What honor is this! We are baptized with His baptism; we drink of His cup, we are made like Him in sorrow as we shall hereafter be made like Him in joy! How soothing and sustaining! If reproach and shame and poverty are ours, let us remember that they were His also. If we have to go down to Gethsemane or up to the cross, let us think that He was there before us. It is when keeping our eye on this that we are brought somewhat to realize the feeling of the Apostle when he “rejoiced in his sufferings” for the Church, as filling “up that which is behind [literally the leavings of Christ’s sufferings] of the afflictions of Christ in my flesh for his body’s sake, which is the church” (Col 1:24). To be treated better than Christ is neither what a thoughtful soul could expect nor what a loving heart could desire.

3. Suffering is the family lot. This we have already dwelt upon, and we recur[4] to it simply to present it more prominently as a consolation. The path of sorrow is no unfrequented way. All the saints have trodden it. We can trace their footprints there. It is comforting, nay, it is cheering to keep this in mind. Were we cast fettered[5] into some low dungeon, would it not be consolation to know that many a martyr had been there before us, would it not be cheering to read their names written with their own hands all round the ancient walls? Such is the solace we may extract from all suffering, for the furnace into which we are cast has been consecrated by many a saint already.

4. All things work together for our good. Nothing is unsuitable, unseasonable, or unprofitable. Out of all evil comes good to the saints; out of all darkness comes light; out of all sorrow comes joy. Each pang, sharp or slight, is doing its work—the very work which God designs, the very work which we could not do without. The bed of sorrow is not only like Solomon’s chariot, all “paved with love”; but, like it, it moves on with mighty swiftness, bearing us most blessedly onward to the inheritance of the undefiled. The forces of earth, unless they all bear in one line or nearly so, tend to counteract each other and arrest the common impulse. But the forces which God brings to bear upon us in affliction are all directly and necessarily impulsive.[6] Come from what quarter they may or from opposite quarters all at once, they still bear us successfully forward. “All things work together for good” (Rom 8:28). “All things are ours” (1Co 3:21, 22).

5. There is special grace for every trial. As trials bring to light the weakness that is in us, so they draw out to meet the strength of God new resources of strength and grace which we never knew before. In affliction we may be quite sure of learning something more of God than we were acquainted with before, for it is just in order to furnish an opportunity for bringing out this and showing it to us that He sends the trial. How little should we know of Him were it not for sorrow! What fullness of blessing comes out to us, what riches of love are spread out before us in the dark and cloudy day!

6. Affliction is our fullest opportunity for glorifying God. It is on earth that He expects to get glory from us, glory such as angels cannot give, glory such as we shall not be able to give hereafter. It is here that we are to preach to angels; it is here we are to show to them what a glorious God is ours. Our whole life below is given us for this. But it is especially in sorrow and under infirmity that God looks for glory from us. What a God-honoring thing to see a struggling, sorrowing child of earth cleave fast to God, calmly trusting in Him, happy and at rest in the midst of storm and of suffering! What a spectacle for the hosts of Heaven! Now then is the time for the saints to give glory to the Lord their God. Let them prize affliction as the very time and opportunity for doing so most of all. Let them use such a season well. And oh, what consolation to think that affliction is really such a season! Ah, surely it is one which an angel might covet, which an archangel would gladly stoop to were that possible! They can glorify God much in Heaven amid its glory and blessedness, but oh, not half so much as we can on earth amid suffering and shame!

7. We are getting rid of sin. Each pain is a nail driven through some sin, another blow inflicted on the flesh, destroying the very power of sinning. As we entered on our first life, sin fastened its chain upon us, and link after link twined itself about us. When we commenced our second and better life, these began one by one to untwine themselves. Affliction untwined them faster; and though it is not till we are laid on a deathbed or till Jesus comes that the last link of earth is thoroughly untwined or broken, still it is consolation to think that each successive trial is helping on the blessed consummation. A lifetime’s sufferings would not be too long or too heavy, if by means of them we got rid of sin and sinful ways and tempers and became more holy, more heavenly, more conformable to the image of the Lord. When first we believed in Jesus, we were delivered “from this present evil world” (Gal 1:4). Yet this deliverance is not complete. The world and we have not yet fully parted company with each other. And, therefore, God drives affliction like a wedge between us and the world; or He sends it like a plowshare[7] right across our most cherished hopes and brightest prospects till He thoroughly wearies us of all below. “He hath made me weary,” said Job (Job 16:7). Nor do we wonder at the complaint. Wearisome nights were His. “The plowers plowed upon [my] back” and drew many a long furrow there (Psa 129:3). He might well be weary. So with us. God makes us weary, too, weary all over—thoroughly weary. We get weary of a present evil world, weary of self, weary of sin, weary of suffering, weary of this mortal body, weary of these vile hearts, weary of earth—weary of all but Jesus! Of Him no trial can weary us. Suffering only endears Him the more. Blessed suffering—that makes Him appear more precious and the world viler; that brings Him nearer to our hearts and thrusts the world away!

8. We are preparing for usefulness while here. We have but a few years below, and it concerns us much that these should be useful years. We have but one life, and it must be laid out for God. But we need preparation for usefulness. We need a thorough breaking down, a thorough emptying, a thorough bruising. God cannot trust us with success till we are thus laid low. We are not fit to receive it; nor would He get the glory. Therefore, He sends sore and heavy trials in order to make us vessels fit for the Master’s use. And oftentimes we see that the heaviest trials are forerunners of our greatest usefulness. When we are entirely prostrated[8] and crushed, then it is safe to grant us success, for God gets all the glory. And oh, what wonders has God often done by bruised reeds! Yea, it is the bruised reed that is oftenest the instrument in His hand for working His mighty signs and wonders. What consolation is this! Suffering is stripped of half its bitterness, if it thus brings with it a double portion of the Spirit and fits for double usefulness on earth.

9. We have the Holy Spirit as our Comforter. He is mighty to comfort as well as to sanctify. His name is “the Comforter.” His office is to console. And in the discharge of this office, He puts forth His power, not only mediately[9] and indirectly through the Word, but immediately[10] and directly upon the soul, sustaining and strengthening it when fainting and troubled. It is consolation unspeakable to know that there is a hand, a divine and omnipotent hand, laid upon our wounded spirit, not only upholding it, but drying up, as it were, the very springs of grief within. In the day of oppressive sorrow, when bowed down to the dust, what is it that we feel so much our need of as a hand that can come into close and direct contact with our souls to lift them up and strengthen them? For it is here that human consolation fails. Friends can say much to soothe us, but they cannot lay their finger upon the hidden seat of sorrow. They can put their arm around the fainting body, but not around the fainting spirit. To that they have only distant and indirect access. But here the heavenly aid comes in. The Spirit throws around us the everlasting arms, and we are invincibly upheld. We cannot sink, for He sustains, He comforts, He cheers. And who knows so well as He how to sustain and comfort and cheer?

10. The time is short. We have not a pilgrimage like Seth’s or Noah’s, or even like Abraham’s to pass through. Ours is but a hand-breadth in comparison with theirs. We have not many days to suffer, nor many nights to watch, even though our whole life were filled with weary days and sleepless nights. “For our light affliction…is but for a moment” (2Co 4:17). And besides the briefness of our earthly span, we know that the coming of the Lord draweth nigh. This is consolation, for it tells not only of the end of our tribulation, but of the beginning of our triumph; nay, and not only of our individual rest from trouble, but of the rest and deliverance of the whole Church together. For then the whole “body of Christ,” waking or sleeping, shall be glorified with their glorified Lord; and everlasting joy shall be upon their heads.

In the day of bereavement, the day of mourning over those who have fallen asleep in Jesus, this consolation is especially precious. Them that sleep in Jesus will God bring with Him. And if the Lord be near, the time of reunion may not be far off. They that lie down at evening have a whole night’s slumber before them; but they who lie down toward morning have, it may be, but an hour or less till the dawn awakes them. So with the dead in Christ in these last days. They will not have long to sleep, for it is now the fourth watch of the night, and the day-star[11] is preparing to arise. What consolation! How it soothes the pain of parting! How it cheers the wounded spirit! “Awake and sing, ye that dwell in dust” is now our watchword every day (Isa 26:19). We take our stand upon our watchtower and look out amidst the darkness of night for the first streaks of morn. We lay our ear to the ground and listen that, amid all the discord of earth, the uproar of war, the tumults of the nations, we may catch the first sound of our Lord’s chariot wheels—those chariot wheels that are to sweep in vengeance over the field of Armageddon, crushing the confederate nations leagued against the Lord and His Anointed, and also to bring to the bosom of the long betrothed Bride, the Husband of her youth, the desire of her soul, for whom, amid tears and loneliness, she has waited for many a generation, many a century in vain.

11. All is love. Affliction is the expression of paternal[12] love. It is from the deepest recess of the fountain of love that sorrow flows down to us. And love cannot wrong us. It blesses, but cannot curse. Its utterances and actions are all of peace and gladness. It wants a larger vessel into which to empty itself, and a deeper channel through which to flow. That is all. It seeks to make us more susceptible of kindness, and then to pour that kindness in. Yes, love is the true, the one origin of the sharpest stroke that ever fell upon a bleeding heart. The truth is, there is no other way of accounting for affliction but this. Anger will not account for it, forgetfulness will not account for it, chance will not account for it. No. It is simply impossible to trace it to any cause but love. Admit this as its spring, and all is harmonious, comely, perfect. Deny it, and all is confusion, cruelty, and darkness. Chastising love is the faithfulest, purest, truest, tenderest, deepest of all. Let this be our consolation.

Beloved, “It is well.” It is good to be afflicted. Our days of suffering here we call days of darkness; hereafter they will seem our brightest and fairest. In eternity we shall praise Jehovah most of all for our sorrows and tears. So blessed shall they then seem to us that we shall wonder how we could ever weep and sigh. We shall then know how utterly unworthy we were of all this grace. We did not deserve anything, but least of all to be afflicted. Our joys were all of grace—pure grace—much more our sorrows. It is out of the “exceeding riches of the grace of God” that trial comes.

From The Night of Weeping, The Morning of Joy by Horatius Bonar. This title is available as a paperback book published by Chapel Library.

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Horatius Bonar (1808-1889): Scottish Presbyterian minister whose poems, hymns, and religious tracts were widely popular during the 19th century. Born in Edinburgh, Scotland.

God’s people are prone to be discouraged because of the difficulty of the way. In the bitterness of their spirits, they are often apt to say with desponding Zion, “The Lord has forsaken me,” or with the faithless prophet, “It is better for me to die than to live.” But the Christian has his consolations too, and they are “strong consolations.” The “still small voice” mingles with the hurricane and the storm…. “The Lord lives, and blessed be my rock; and may the God of my salvation be exalted.” Earthly consolations may help to dry one tear, but another tear is ready to flow. God dries all tears. There is no need in the aching voids of the heart that He cannot supply. Is it mercy to pardon? I can look up to the throne of the Most High, and see Holiness and Righteousness, Justice, and Truth all bending in exulting harmony over my ruined soul, exclaiming, “This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptance, that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners!”….I can look up to that same throne, and behold, seated thereon, a Great High Priest; no, a mighty Prince, having power with God and prevailing-prayer without ceasing ascending from His lips in behalf of His people. When Satan seeks “to sift” them, His upholding power protects them in heaven. When temptation assails them in their earthly conflicts, the true Moses on the Mount with hands that never “grow heavy” makes them “more than conquerors.” When trial threatens to prostrate them, He identifies Himself with the sufferers—He points to His own sorrows to show them how light the heaviest of earth’s sorrows are. Even over the gloomy portals of the grave He can write, “Blessed are the dead!” He alone felt Death’s substance….Reader, are you now weary or desponding? Is some cross heavy on you? Some trial oppressing you? Some thorn in the flesh sorely lacerating you? Be still! He will make his grace sufficient. If He has allured you into the wilderness, it is that He may speak comfortably unto you.—John MacDuff

God and Natural Disasters

Jerry Bridges

“Are there any among the vanities of the Gentiles that can cause rain? or can the heavens give showers? art not thou he, O LORD our God? therefore we will
wait upon thee: for thou hast made all these things”—Jeremiah 14:22.

n September 1985, an earthquake struck Mexico City killing some 6,000 people and leaving more than 100,000 homeless. A friend of mine wanted to use the event to teach his young children a simple science lesson, so he asked them, “Do you know what caused the earthquake?” He planned to answer his question with a simple explanation of fault lines and shifting rocks in the earth’s crust.

His seismology[13] lesson quickly turned into a theological discussion, however, when his eight-year-old daughter replied, “I know why. God was judging those people.” Though my friend’s child had jumped to an unwarranted conclusion about God’s judgment, she was theologically correct in one sense. God was in control of that earthquake. Why He allowed it to happen is a question we cannot answer (and should not try to), but we can say, on the testimony of Scripture, that God did indeed allow it or cause it to happen.

All of us are affected by the weather and the forces of nature at various times to one degree or another. Most of the time we are merely inconvenienced by weather—a delayed airplane flight, a cancelled Fourth of July picnic, or something else on that order. Frequently some people somewhere are drastically affected by the weather or the more violent forces of nature. A prolonged drought withers the farmer’s crop, or a hailstorm destroys it within an hour. A tornado in Texas leaves hundreds homeless, and a typhoon in Bangladesh destroys thousands of acres of crops.

Whenever we are affected by the weather—whether it is merely an inconvenience or a major disaster—we tend to regard it as nothing more than the impersonal expression of certain fixed meteorological[14] or geological[15] laws. A low pressure system settles over my hometown, bringing a huge snowstorm and closing our airport the day I am to leave for a ministry engagement. Forces within the earth continually bend its crust until one day it snaps, causing a major earthquake. Whether it is trivial or traumatic, we tend to think of the expressions of nature as “just happening” and ourselves as the “unlucky” victims of whatever nature brings forth. In practice, even Christians tend to live and think like the deists[16]…who conceived of God as the One Who created the universe and then walked away to leave it running according to its own natural laws.

But God has not walked away from the day-to-day control of His creation. Certainly He has established physical laws by which He governs the forces of nature, but those laws continuously operate according to His sovereign will. A Christian TV meteorologist has determined that there are over 1,400 references to weather terminology in the Bible. Many of these references attribute the outworking of weather directly to the hand of God. Most of these passages speak of God’s control over all weather, not just His divine intervention on specific occasions.

Consider the following Scriptures: “He directeth it under the whole heaven, and his lightning unto the ends of the earth….For he saith to the snow, Be thou on the earth; likewise to the small rain, and to the great rain of his strength….By the breath of God frost is given: and the breadth of the waters is straitened. Also by watering he wearieth the thick cloud: he scattereth his bright cloud: And it is turned round about by his counsels: that they may do whatsoever he commandeth them upon the face of the world in the earth. He causeth it to come, whether for correction, or for his land, or for mercy” (Job 37:3, 6, 10-13).

“Who covereth the heaven with clouds, who prepareth rain for the earth, who maketh grass to grow upon the mountains....He giveth snow like wool: he scattereth the hoarfrost like ashes. He casteth forth his ice like morsels: who can stand before his cold? He sendeth out his word, and melteth them: he causeth his wind to blow, and the waters flow” (Psa 147:8, 16-18).

“When he uttereth his voice, there is a multitude of waters in the heavens, and he causeth the vapours to ascend from the ends of the earth; he maketh lightnings with rain, and bringeth forth the wind out of his treasures” (Jer 10:13).

“And also I have withholden the rain from you, when there were yet three months to the harvest: and I caused it to rain upon one city, and caused it not to rain upon another city: one piece was rained upon, and the piece whereupon it rained not withered” (Amo 4:7).

Note how all these Scriptures attribute all expressions of weather—good or bad—to the direct controlling hand of God.

The insurance companies refer to major natural disasters as “acts of God.” The truth is, all expressions of nature, all occurrences of weather, whether it be a devastating tornado or a gentle rain on a spring day, are acts of God. The Bible teaches that God controls all the forces of nature, both destructive and productive, on a continuous, moment-by-moment basis.

Whether the weather is nice or bad, we are never the victims or even the beneficiaries[17] of the impersonal powers of nature. God, who is the loving heavenly Father of every true Christian, is sovereign over the weather, and He exercises that sovereignty moment by moment.

Complaining about the weather seems to be a favorite American pastime. Sadly, we Christians often get caught up in this ungodly habit of our society. But when we complain about the weather, we are actually complaining against God, Who sent us our weather. We are, in fact, sinning against God (see Num 11:1).

Not only do we sin against God when we complain about the weather, we also deprive ourselves of the peace that comes from recognizing our heavenly Father is in control of it. Alexander Carson[18] said, “Scripture represent[s] all physical laws as having their effect from the immediate agency of Almighty Power. . . .Christians themselves, though they recog-nize the doctrine [of divine providence], are prone to overlook it in practice, and consequently to be deprived, in a great measure, of that advantage which a constant and deep impression of this truth is calculated to give.”[19] Whether the weather merely disrupts my plans or destroys my home, I need to learn to see God’s sovereign and loving hand controlling it.

The fact is, for most of us, the weather and the effects of nature are usually favorable. The tornado, the drought, even the snowstorm that delays our flight are the exception, not the rule. We tend to remember the “bad” weather and take for granted the good. However, when Jesus spoke about the weather, He spoke about the goodness of God: “That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust” (Mat 5:45).

Though God sometimes uses the weather, and other expressions of nature, as an instrument of judgment (see Amos 4:7-9), He most often uses it as an expression of His gracious provision for His creation. Both saint and sinner alike benefit from God’s gracious provision of weather. And, according to Jesus, this provision is not merely the result of certain fixed, inexorable[20] physical laws. God controls those laws. He causes His sun to rise, He sends the rain…

We as Christians need to stop complaining about the weather, and instead learn to give thanks for it. God, our heavenly Father, sends us each day what He deems best for all of His creation.

What about the natural disasters that occur frequently in various parts of the world? Many sensitive Christians struggle over the multitude of large-scale natural disasters around the world—an earthquake in one place, famine in another, typhoons and floods somewhere else. Thousands of people are killed, others slowly starve to death. Entire regions are devastated, crops are ruined, homes destroyed. “Why does God allow all this?” we may ask. “Why does God permit all those innocent children to starve?”

It is not wrong to wrestle with these issues, as long as we do it in a reverent and submissive attitude toward God. Indeed, to fail to wrestle with the issue of large-scale tragedy may indicate a lack of compassion toward others on our part. However, we must be careful not to, in our minds, take God off His throne of absolute sovereignty or put Him in the dock and bring Him to the bar of our judgment.

While working on this chapter, I watched the evening news on television one night. One of the top stories was about several powerful tornados that swept across central Mississippi killing seven people, injuring at least 145 more, and leaving nearly 500 families homeless. As I watched the scenes of people sifting through the rubble of what had been their homes, my heart went out to them. I thought to myself, “Some of those people are undoubtedly believers. What would I say to them about God’s sovereignty over nature? Do I really believe it myself at a time such as this?....Why bring God into chaos and suffering such as this?”

But God brings Himself into these events. He said in Isaiah 45:7, “I form the light, and create darkness: I make peace, and create evil: I the LORD do all these things.” God Himself accepts the responsibility, so to speak, of disasters. He actually does more than accept the responsibility; He actually claims it. In effect, God says, “I, and I alone, have the power and authority to bring about both prosperity and disaster, both weal[21] and woe, both good and bad.”

This is a difficult truth to accept as you watch people sift through the rubble of their homes or—more to the point—if you are the one sifting through the rubble of your home. But as the late Dr. Edward J. Young[22] commented on Isaiah 45:7, “We gain nothing by seeking to minimize the force of the present verse.”[23] We must allow the Bible to say what it says, not what we think it ought to say.

We obviously do not understand why God creates disaster, or why He brings it to one town and not to another. We recognize, too, that just as God sends His sun and rain on both the righteous and the unrighteous, so He also sends the tornado, or the hurricane, or the earthquake on both....God’s sovereignty over nature does not mean that Christians never encounter the tragedies of natural disasters. Experience and observation clearly teach otherwise.

God’s sovereignty over nature does mean that, whatever we experience at the hand of the weather or other forces of nature (such as plant diseases or insect infestation of our crops), all circumstances are under the watchful eye and sovereign control of our God.

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Jerry Bridges: Bible teacher, staff member of The Navigators Collegiate Ministries, guest lecturer at several seminaries, conference speaker, and author of The Pursuit of Holiness, The Practice of Godliness, Trusting God, The Gospel for Real Life, and others.

My brother, trust this Great Sympathizer….Conquer as He conquered, by a noble submission and self-surrender to the will of your Father in heaven. While you take trial for granted as a part of His appointed discipline, hear the Lord of sorrow encouraging you from His own example and victory: “In the world you shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.”—John MacDuff

Earthly Sorrows and
Following Christ

J. C. Ryle (1816-1900)

“And there arose a great storm of wind, and the waves beat into the ship, so that it was now full. And he was in the hinder part of the ship, asleep on a pillow: and they awake him, and say unto him, Master, carest thou not that we perish? And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. And he said unto them, Why are ye so fearful? how is it that ye have no faith?”—Mark 4:37-40.

n whom must we build our souls if we would be accepted with God? We must build on the Rock, Christ. From whom must we draw that grace of the Spirit which we daily need in order to be fruitful? We must draw from the Vine, Christ. To whom must we look for sympathy when earthly friends fail us or die? We must look to our elder Brother, Christ. By whom must our prayers be presented, if they are to be heard on high? They must be presented by our Advocate, Christ. With whom do we hope to spend the thousand years of glory and the after eternity? With the King of kings, Christ. Surely we cannot know this Christ too well! Surely there is not a word, nor a deed, nor a day, nor a step, nor a thought in the record of His life, which ought not to be precious to us. We should labor to be familiar with every line that is written about Jesus.

Come now, and let us study a page in our Master’s history. Let us consider what we may learn from the verses of Scripture which stand at the head of this paper. You there see Jesus crossing the lake of Galilee in a boat with His disciples. You see a sudden storm arise while He is asleep. The waves beat into the boat and fill it. Death seems to be close at hand. The frightened disciples awake their Master and cry for help. He arises and rebukes the wind and the waves, and at once there is a calm. He mildly reproves the faithless fears of His companions, and all is over. Such is the picture. It is one full of deep instruction. Come now, and let us examine what we are meant to learn.

Let us learn…that following Christ will not prevent our having earthly sorrows and troubles. Here are the chosen disciples of the Lord Jesus in great anxiety. The faithful little flock, which believed when priests, scribes, and Pharisees were all alike unbelieving, is allowed by the Shepherd to be much disquieted.[24] The fear of death breaks in upon them like an armed man. The deep water seems likely to go over their souls. Peter, James, and John, the pillars of the Church about to be planted in the world, are much distressed.

Perhaps they had not reckoned on all this. Perhaps they had expected that Christ’s service would at any rate lift them above the reach of earthly trials. Perhaps they thought that He who could raise the dead, and heal the sick, and feed multitudes with a few loaves, and cast out devils with a word—He would never allow His servants to be sufferers upon earth. Perhaps they had supposed He would always grant them smooth journeys, fine weather, an easy course, and freedom from trouble and care.

If the disciples thought so, they were much mistaken. The Lord Jesus taught them that a man may be one of His chosen servants, and yet have to go through many an anxiety and endure many a pain.

It is good to understand this clearly. It is good to understand that Christ’s service never did secure a man from all the ills that flesh is heir to and never will. If you are a believer, you must reckon on having your share of sickness and pain, of sorrow and tears, of losses and crosses, of deaths and bereavements, of partings and separations, of vexations and disappointments, so long as you are in the body. Christ never undertakes that you shall get to heaven without these. He has undertaken that all who come to Him shall have all things pertaining to life and godliness; but He has never undertaken that He will make them prosperous, or rich, or healthy, and that death and sorrow shall never come to their family.

I have the privilege of being one of Christ’s ambassadors. In His name I can offer eternal life to any man, woman, or child who is willing to have it. In His name I do offer pardon, peace, grace, and glory, to any son or daughter of Adam who reads this paper. But I dare not offer that person worldly prosperity as a part and parcel of the Gospel. I dare not offer him long life, an increased income, and freedom from pain. I dare not promise the man who takes up the cross and follows Christ, that in the following he shall never meet with a storm.

I know well that many do not like these terms. They would prefer having Christ and good health, Christ and plenty of money, Christ and no deaths in their family, Christ and no wearing cares, and Christ and a perpetual morning without clouds. But they do not like Christ and the cross, Christ and tribulation, Christ and the conflict, Christ and the howling wind, Christ and the storm.

Is this the secret thought of anyone who is reading this paper? Believe me, if it is, you are very wrong. Listen to me, and I will try to show you that you have yet much to learn.

How should you know who are true Christians, if following Christ was the way to be free from trouble? How should we discern the wheat from the chaff, if it were not for the winnowing[25] of trial? How should we know whether men served Christ for His own sake or from selfish motives, if His service brought health and wealth with it as a matter of course? The winds of winter soon show us which of the trees are evergreen and which are not. The storms of affliction and care are useful in the same way. They discover whose faith is real, and whose is nothing but profession and form.

How would the great work of sanctification[26] go on in a man if he had no trial? Trouble is often the only fire which will burn away the dross that clings to our hearts. Trouble is the pruning knife which the great Husbandman employs in order to make us fruitful in good works.

If you desire to serve Christ and be saved, I entreat you to take the Lord on His own terms. Make up your mind to meet with your share of crosses and sorrows, and then you will not be surprised. For want of understanding this, many seem to run well for a season, and then turn back in disgust and are cast away.

If you profess to be a child of God, leave to the Lord Jesus to sanctify you in His own way. Rest satisfied that He never makes any mistakes. Be sure that He does all things well. The winds may howl around you and the waters swell. But fear not, He is leading you by the right way, that He may bring you to a city of habitation (Psa 107:7).

From “Ruler of the Waves” in Holiness: Its Nature, Hindrances, Difficulties, and Roots, both available from Chapel Library.

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J. C. Ryle (1816-1900): Bishop of the Anglican Church. Revered author of Holiness, Knots Untied, Old Paths, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels, and many others. Born at Macclesfield, Cheshire County, England.

The God of All Comfort

Richard Sibbes (1577-1635)

“Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort; Who comforteth us in all our tribulation”
—2 Corinthians 1:3-5.

t. Paul was a man of sorrows if ever any was, next to Christ Himself; and that [he] might prevent all scandal at his crosses and disgraceful afflicted usage, he doth show his comforts[27] under the cross, which he would not have wanted to have been without his cross. Therefore, he begins here with praising of God…

We must give St. Paul leave to be thus large,[28] for his heart was full; and a full heart, a full expression. And he speaks not out of books, but from sense and feeling. Though he knew well enough that “God was the Father of mercy and God of all comfort”…yet these be words that come from the heart, from feeling rather than from the tongue. They came not from St. Paul’s pen only. His pen was first dipped in his heart and soul when he wrote this. “God is the Father of mercy, and God of all comfort. I feel Him so; He comforts me in all tribulations.”

The God of all comfort: to explain the word a little, comfort is either the thing itself, a comfortable outward thing, a blessing of God wherein comfort is hid; or else it is reasons; because a man is an understanding creature, [there are] reasons from which comfort is grounded. Or it is a real comfort, inward and spiritual, by the assistance and strength of the Spirit of God, when perhaps there is no outward thing to comfort. And perhaps reasons and discourse[29] are not present at that time, yet there is a presence of the Spirit that comforts, as we see ofttimes[30] a man is comforted with the very sight of his friend, without discourse. To a man endued with reason, whose discomforts are spiritual (for the most part in the soul), the very presence of a man that he loves puts much delight into him. What is God then? “The God of comfort.” His very presence must needs comfort. Comfort is taken many other ways, but these are the principal to this purpose.

First, comfort is the thing itself. There is comfort in every creature of God, and God is the God of that comfort. In hunger, meat[31] comforts; in thirst, drink comforts; in cold, garments comfort; in want of advice, friends comfort, and it is a sweet comfort. “God is the God of all comfort,” of the comfortable things. But besides the necessary things, every sense hath somewhat to comfort it. The eye, besides ordinary colors, hath delightful colors to behold. And so the ear, besides ordinary noise and sounds, it hath music to delight it. The smell, besides ordinary savors, it hath sweet flowers to refresh it. And so every part of the body, besides that which is ordinary, it hath somewhat to comfort it. Because God is nothing but comfort to His creature, if it be as it should be, He is God of these comforts, “the God of all comfort,” of the comfort of outward things, of friends, etc.

2. So He is the God of the second comfort, of comfortable reasons and arguments. A man, especially in inward troubles, must have grounds of comfort from strong reasons. God ministereth these. He is the God of these. For He hath given us His Scriptures, His Word; and the comforts that are fetched from thence are strong ones because they are His comforts. It is His Word. The word of a prince comforts, though he be not there to speak it. Though it be a letter, or by a messenger, yet he whose word it is, is one that is able to make his word good. [God] is Lord and Master of His Word. The Word of God is comfortable, and all the reasons that are in it and that are deduced[32] from it upon good ground and consequence, they are comfortable because it is God’s Word. He is the God of all. And those comforts in God’s Word and reasons from thence, they are wonderful in the variety of them. There is comfort from the liberty of a Christian laid out there, that he hath free access to the throne of grace. [There is] comfort from the prerogatives[33] of a Christian, that he is the child of God, that he is justified, that he is the heir of heaven, and such like; comforts from the promises of grace, of the presence of God, of assistance by His presence. These things out of the Word of God are wondrous plentiful. Indeed, the word of God is a breast of comfort, as the prophet calls it: “That ye may suck, and be satisfied with the breasts of her consolations” (Isa 66:11). The books of God are breasts of comfort, wells of comfort…springs of comfort.

God’s Word is a Paradise, as it were. In Paradise, there were sweet streams that ran through; and in Paradise stirred the voice of God, not only calling, “Adam, where art thou?” terrifying him (Gen 3:9), but the voice of God promising Adam the blessed Seed.

So in the Word of God, there is God rousing out of sin, and there is God speaking peace to the soul. There is a sweet current of mercy [that] runs from the Paradise of God; and there is “the tree of life” (Rev 3:7), Christ Himself, and trees of all manner of fruit, comforts of all sorts whatsoever. And there is no angel there to keep the door and gate of paradise with a fiery, flaming sword. No! This paradise is open for all.

But this is not enough to make Him the God of comfort. We may have the Word of God, and all the reasons from thence, from privileges and prerogatives, and examples, and yet not be comfortable, if

3. We have not the God of comfort [and] the Word of comfort [along with] the Spirit of God, that must apply the comfort to the soul and be the God of comfort there. For there must be application and working of comfort out of God’s Word upon the soul by the Spirit. The Spirit must set it on strongly and sweetly that the soul may be affected.

You may have a carnal man—he for fashion or custom reads the Scriptures, and he is as dead-hearted when he hath done as when he began. He never looks to the Spirit of comfort. There must be the Spirit of God, to work, and to apply comfort to the heart, and to teach us to discourse and to reason from the Word, not only to show the reasons of the Word, but to teach us to draw reasons from the Word, and to apply them to our particular state and condition. The Spirit teacheth this wisdom. And therefore, [He] is well called the Comforter: “I will send you the Comforter” (Joh 14:26). The poor disciples had many comforts from Christ; but because the Comforter was not come, they were not comfortable, but heavy. What was the reason? Because “the Comforter was not come” (Joh 16:7). When the Holy Ghost was come after the resurrection and ascension of Christ, when He had sent the Comforter, then they were so full of comfort that they rejoiced that they were thought worthy to suffer anything for Christ (Act 5:41); and the more they suffered, the more joyful and comfortable and glorious they are.

You see what a comfort is. It is the things themselves, and the Word, and reasons from it, and likewise the Spirit of God with the reasons and with presence. Sometimes without any reasons, with present strength, God doth establish the soul. Together with reasons, there is a strengthening power of the Spirit, a vigor that goes with the Spirit of God that joins with the spirit of the afflicted person. So whether it be the outward thing, as reasons and discourse, or the presence of the Spirit, God joining with our spirit, God is the God of that comfort, the “God of all comfort.”

A comfort is anything that allays a malady,[34] that either takes it away or allays and mitigates[35] it. A comfort is anything that raiseth up the soul. The comforts that we have in this life, they are not such as do altogether take away sorrow and grief, but they mitigate them. Comfort is that which is above a malady….When the soul hath [something] that it can set against the present sense of the grievance that is stronger than [that grievance]—though it do not wholly expel it, but the discomfort remains still in some degree—it may be said well to be a comfort.

The reason why I speak of this mitigation is because in this life God never so wholly comforts his children, but there will be flesh left in them; [it] will murmur, and there will be some resistance against comfort. While there are remainders of sin, there will be ground of discomfort by reason of the conflict between the flesh and spirit.

For instance, a man hath some cross on him: what saith the flesh? “God is mine enemy, and I will take such and such courses. I will not endure this.” This is the voice of the flesh, of the “old man.” What saith the Spirit? “Surely God is not mine enemy. He intends my good by these things.” So while these fight, here is the flesh against the spirit (Gal 5:17). Yet here is comfort because the Spirit is predominant.[36] But it is not fully comfort because there is the “old man” in him that withstands comfort in the whole measure of comfort….We cannot have the full comfort till we come to Heaven. There all tears shall be wiped from our eyes. In this world we must be content to have comfort with some grief. The malady is not wholly purged.

“The God of all comfort.” “All,” that is, of all comfortable things and of all divine reasons. It must be most substantial comfort. The soul in some maladies will not be comforted by philosophical reasons. Saith the heathen, “The disease is stronger than the physic,” when he considers Plato’s comforts and the like. So we may say of the reasons of philosophical men….When they come to terror of conscience, when they come to inward grievances [and] inward stings that are in a man from a man’s conscience (as all discomforts usually when they press hard, it is with a guilty conscience), what can all such reasons do?...They are ignorant of the root. Alas! How can they tell the remedy, when they know not the ground of the malady?

It must be God; it must be His Word, His truth. The conscience must know it to be God’s truth, and then it will comfort. God is the God of comfort, of the things and of the reasons. They must be His reasons.

And He also is the Author of that spiritual presence; He is with His children. When they are in the fire, He goes with them into the water, as it is in Isaiah 43:2. He is with them in the valley of death (Psa 23:4). They shall find God with them to comfort them. So there is a kind of presence with God’s comforts and a banishing of all discomfort.

And this comfort is as large as the maladies, as large as the ills are. He is a God of comfort against every particular ill. If there be diverse[37] ills, He hath diverse comforts; if they be long ills, He hath long comforts; if there be strong ills, He hath strong comforts; if there be new ills, He hath new comforts. Take the ills in what extent and degree you will, God hath somewhat to set against them that is stronger than they, and that is the blessed estate of God’s children. He is the “God of all comfort.”

It is the wisdom of a Christian to see how God describes Himself, there being something in God answerable to whatsoever is ill in the world. The Spirit of God in the Scripture sets forth God fitting to the particular occasions. Speaking here of the misery and the disgraceful usage[38] of St. Paul, being taught by the Spirit of God, he considereth God as “Father of mercies” and a “God of comfort.” Speaking of the vengeance on his enemies, the psalmist saith, “Thou God of vengeance, show thyself” (Psa 94:1). In God there is help for every malady.

Therefore, the wisdom of a Christian is to single out of God what is fitting his present occasion. In crosses and miseries, think of Him as a “Father of mercies”; in discomforts, think of Him as a “God of comfort”; in perplexities and distress, think of Him as a “God of wisdom”; and [in oppression by] others and difficulties which we cannot wade out of, think of Him as a God and Father Almighty, as a “God of vengeance,” and so every way to think of God applicable to the present occasion. And though many of us have no great affliction upon us for the present, yet we should lay up store against the evil day; and therefore it is good to treasure up these descriptions of God, the “Father of mercies, and God of all comfort.”

…if God be God of all comfort, there is this conclusion hence: whatsoever the means of comfort be, God is the spring of it. Christ is the conduit next to God, for He is close to God. God is the God of Christ, and the Holy Ghost is usually the stream. The streams of comfort come through Christ, the conduit; from God the Father, the fountain, by the graces of the Spirit. But I speak of outward comforts. “Blessed be God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.” All are comforters! God the Father is the Father of comfort; the Holy Ghost is the Comforter; Christ Jesus likewise is the God of comfort. Whatsoever the outward means be, yet God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost are the Comforters. Take them together. That is the conclusion hence…

Question: You will say to me, “What is the reason that Christians are no more comfortable, having the God of comfort for their God?”

Answer: I answer:

1. It is partly from ignorance. We have remainders of ignorance [so] that we know not our own comfort. Satan doth veil the eye of the soul in the time of trouble [so] that we cannot see that there is a well of comfort. Poor Hagar, when she was almost undone for thirst, yet she had a fountain of water near hand; but she saw it not, she was so overtaken with grief (Gen 21:15ff.).

2. Passion[39] hinders the sight of comfort. When we give way so much to the present malady, as if there were no God of comfort in heaven, as if there were no Scripture that hath breasts of comfort…as if there were no matter of comfort, they feed upon grief and delight to flatter themselves in grief….So out of a kind of ignorance, and passion, and willfulness they will not be comforted.

And again, 3. aggravating the grievance. As Bildad[40] saith, “Are the comforts of God light to thee?” (Job 15:11), [meaning], “These are good words, but my discomforts are greater, my malady is greater.” So the comforts of the Holy Ghost, the comforts of God’s Spirit, seem light to them. Ignorance, and passion, and dwelling [on sorrow] too much, makes us neglect comfort. It makes us to see comfort to be no comfort in a manner….So grief and passion hinder the soul so much from seeing God’s comforts that we see them not when they are before us, when they are present. So men are guilty of their own discomfort. It is their own fault.

Again, 4. ofttimes[41] forgetfulness. As the Apostle saith, “And ye have forgotten the exhortation which speaketh unto you as unto children, My son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord” (Heb 12:5). Have ye forgotten that every son that God chastiseth not is a bastard?[42] Have ye forgotten? Insinuating that, if they had remembered this, it would have comforted them. “Have ye forgotten?”

And then one especial cause is, that I spake of before, 5. the looking to things present, forgetting the spring, the well-head of comfort, God Himself: the looking too much to the means. “Oh,” say some, if they be in distress, “if I had such a book, if I had such a man to comfort me, certainly it would be otherwise with me. I should be better than I am.” Put-case[43] he were with thee—alas! He is not the spring! It is the God of comfort that must comfort thee, man, in all thy distresses whatsoever. Therefore, if thou attribute not more to God than to the creature, nay, than to an angel, if he were to comfort thee, thou shalt find no comfort. “I, even I, am he that comforteth you” (Isa 51:12). I am He that pardons thy sins, which is the cause of all discomfort. That is comfort!

From “Exposition of 2 Corinthians Chapter 1” in The Works of Richard Sibbes, Vol 3, reprinted by Banner of Truth Trust.

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Richard Sibbes (1577-1635): early Puritan preacher at Cambridge and later Gray’s Inn, London. Known as the “Heavenly Dr. Sibbes” and the “Sweet Dropper” because of his Christ-centered and God-honoring sermons, which brought great joy to his hearers. His collected works in seven volumes include The Soul’s Conflict with Itself and The Bruised Reed and Smoking Flax. Born at Tostock, Suffolk, England.

Either you have a soul or you have not. You will surely never deny that you have. Then if you have a soul, seek that soul’s salvation. Of all gambling in the world, there is none so reckless as that of the man who lives unprepared to meet God, and yet puts off repentance. Either you have sins or you have none. If you have (and who will dare to deny it?), break off from those sins, cast away your transgressions, and turn away from them without delay. Either you need a Savior or you do not. If you do, flee to the only Savior this very day and cry mightily to Him to save your soul. Apply to Christ at once. Seek Him by faith. Commit your soul into His keeping. Cry mightily to Him for pardon and peace with God. Ask Him to pour down the Holy Spirit upon you and make you a thorough Christian. He will hear you. No matter what you have been, He will not refuse your prayer. He has said, “Him the cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out” (Joh 6:37).—J. C. Ryle

Comfort in All Tribulation

Charles Spurgeon (1834-1892)

“Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort; who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God”—2 Corinthians 1:3, 4.

HE Apostle was a much-tried man, and he lived in an age when all believers were peculiarly tried. The persecutions of that time were excessively severe, and every man who called himself a Christian had to carry his life in his hand. In this tribulation, the Apostle had the largest share, because he was the most prominent and indefatigable[44] teacher that the Church of Christ then possessed. We have here a little insight into his inner life. He needed comfort, and he received it. And he had it in such abundance that he became a comforter of others. Although, without Christ, he would have been “of all men most miserable,” I think I may say that, with Christ and the blessed hope of the resurrection, he was among all men one of the most happy.

I. First then, you, who mourn and are troubled and cast down, are invited to consider the comforting occupation of the Apostle. Most of Paul’s fourteen epistles begin with praise to God, and he often breaks out into a doxology[45] when you are hardly expecting it. He lays down his pen, and bows his knee to the God and Father of the Lord Jesus Christ and pours out a flood of thanksgiving to the Most High. Here was a man, who never knew but what he might be dead the next day—for his enemies were many and cruel and mighty—and yet he spent a great part of his time in praising and blessing God.

This comforting occupation argues that his heart was not crushed and vanquished by his troubles. Paul was sore beset in many ways, yet he could say, and he did say, “Blessed be God.” Job was greatly tried and sorely bereaved, but he still said, “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord” (Job 1:21). And as long as we can keep the blessing of God to the front, it is a sure sign that, whatever the adversary may have been able to take away from us, he has not taken away our confidence, which hath great recompense[46] of reward; and whatever he may have crushed, he has not crushed our heart. He may have surrounded it with bitterness, but the heart itself is not made bitter: it is a fountain that sends out a stream of sweet waters, such as this utterance of the Apostle, “Blessed be God.”

It is glorious to see how the grace of God will enable a man to endure all the assaults of the world, the flesh, and the devil; how he will be laid aside by sickness, and his pains will be multiplied; how reproach may go far to break his heart; how he may be depressed in spirit and lose all temporal benefits;[47] and yet he will be able still to say, “Blessed be the name of the Lord.” “Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him” (Job 13:15). “Let him do what He pleases with me, I have made no stipulation[48] with Him that I will only praise Him when He does according to my will; I will praise Him when He has His own way with me, even though it runs exactly contrary to mine.” It is a brave heart that still, under all pressures, gives forth only this cry, “Blessed be God.” O dear friends, if you want to keep up your hearts, if you desire to be established and sustained, if you wish to prevent the enemy from overcoming you, let this be your comfortable occupation….Nothing can keep your head above the waters of trouble better than crying, “Bless the LORD, O my soul: and all that is within me, bless his holy name” (Psa 103:1).

This occupation shows that the Apostle had not gratified[49] Satan. For the devil’s purpose, so far as he has to do with our trouble, is to make us “curse God and die” (Job 2:9). After a