The Righteous Aren't Always As Bold As A Lion. Lol
10 years ago
Saturday, November 27, 2010
He smote her with a disease which deprived her of strength, destroyed her beauty, and left her deformed!
He smote her with a disease which deprived her of strength, destroyed her beauty, and left her deformed!
(James Smith, "Loving Rebukes" 1858)
"I know, O Lord, that in faithfulness You have afflicted me!" Psalm 119:75
"God disciplines us for our good--that we may share in His holiness!" Hebrews 12:10
As God loves His people with an everlasting love--He takes the deepest interest in their welfare, and rejoices to do them good. But love can frown as well as smile; rebuke as well as commend; and God's rebukes are often very pointed, and very sharp. "As many as I love--I rebuke and chasten." Revelation 3:19
Mary Scott was in a good situation, enjoyed many privileges, and was doing well; but she got vain, dressy, and carnally-minded. She thought too much of earthly things, and too little of heavenly things--and at length you could discern but little difference between her and the world! The Lord then laid His afflictive hand upon her--she fell sick, had to leave her pleasant situation, her little all was soon spent--and she is now poor, and totally dependent on friends.
But God has attended the painful dispensation with His blessing--so that she is now humble, spiritual, and heavenly-minded. Worldly things have lost their charms--and spiritual things appear all-important. She now deeply deplores her former worldly course. Her Bible is now her precious companion, and she finds sweet access to God at the throne of grace. She now looks forward to Heaven, rejoicing that there shall be no more pain, nor sorrow, nor crying. She often blesses God for her affliction! This was a loving rebuke from her heavenly Father!
Eliza Brown was naturally proud and high-minded, and thought only of her figure and personal attractions. Being brought to know the Lord--for a time she walked wisely, and was happy in God. But she gave way to her natural besetting sin of pride, carried her head high, and her heart became haughty. She soon lost the humility that was manifest in her life. Meekness and gentleness seemed to forsake her--and she became spiritually dry and barren. For a time this was allowed to continue--but at length the Lord came forth to rebuke her. He smote her with a disease which deprived her of strength, destroyed her beauty, and left her deformed!
At first, her heart rose in opposition to God--she kicked like a wild bull caught in a net, and spoke harshly of God. But the Lord followed her with stroke upon stroke, until at length her proud spirit yielded, she fell down before God, confessing her sin, and mourning over her rebellious feelings. Then the Lord sweetly breathed upon her soul, and she felt a sweet peace of mind; her heart melted like wax before the fire, and she cried, "Lord, do with me as seems good to You." Meekness, humility, submission, and acquiescence in the will of God now characterize her. And, though at times she finds the old feelings arise, and her natural pride work--she daily seeks grace from God, to crucify the flesh with its affections and lusts. This was a loving rebuke from her heavenly Father!
"Before I was afflicted I went astray--but now I obey Your Word." Psalm 119:67
"It was good for me to be afflicted--so that I might learn Your decrees!" Psalm 119:71
(James Smith, "Loving Rebukes" 1858)
"I know, O Lord, that in faithfulness You have afflicted me!" Psalm 119:75
"God disciplines us for our good--that we may share in His holiness!" Hebrews 12:10
As God loves His people with an everlasting love--He takes the deepest interest in their welfare, and rejoices to do them good. But love can frown as well as smile; rebuke as well as commend; and God's rebukes are often very pointed, and very sharp. "As many as I love--I rebuke and chasten." Revelation 3:19
Mary Scott was in a good situation, enjoyed many privileges, and was doing well; but she got vain, dressy, and carnally-minded. She thought too much of earthly things, and too little of heavenly things--and at length you could discern but little difference between her and the world! The Lord then laid His afflictive hand upon her--she fell sick, had to leave her pleasant situation, her little all was soon spent--and she is now poor, and totally dependent on friends.
But God has attended the painful dispensation with His blessing--so that she is now humble, spiritual, and heavenly-minded. Worldly things have lost their charms--and spiritual things appear all-important. She now deeply deplores her former worldly course. Her Bible is now her precious companion, and she finds sweet access to God at the throne of grace. She now looks forward to Heaven, rejoicing that there shall be no more pain, nor sorrow, nor crying. She often blesses God for her affliction! This was a loving rebuke from her heavenly Father!
Eliza Brown was naturally proud and high-minded, and thought only of her figure and personal attractions. Being brought to know the Lord--for a time she walked wisely, and was happy in God. But she gave way to her natural besetting sin of pride, carried her head high, and her heart became haughty. She soon lost the humility that was manifest in her life. Meekness and gentleness seemed to forsake her--and she became spiritually dry and barren. For a time this was allowed to continue--but at length the Lord came forth to rebuke her. He smote her with a disease which deprived her of strength, destroyed her beauty, and left her deformed!
At first, her heart rose in opposition to God--she kicked like a wild bull caught in a net, and spoke harshly of God. But the Lord followed her with stroke upon stroke, until at length her proud spirit yielded, she fell down before God, confessing her sin, and mourning over her rebellious feelings. Then the Lord sweetly breathed upon her soul, and she felt a sweet peace of mind; her heart melted like wax before the fire, and she cried, "Lord, do with me as seems good to You." Meekness, humility, submission, and acquiescence in the will of God now characterize her. And, though at times she finds the old feelings arise, and her natural pride work--she daily seeks grace from God, to crucify the flesh with its affections and lusts. This was a loving rebuke from her heavenly Father!
"Before I was afflicted I went astray--but now I obey Your Word." Psalm 119:67
"It was good for me to be afflicted--so that I might learn Your decrees!" Psalm 119:71
ANTIDOTES!
ANTIDOTES!
James Smith, 1858
My mind is at times harassed with fear, tormented with doubts, and burdened with a load of guilt. I have tried a variety of things in order to get relief, and have looked for deliverance in many ways. But experience has taught me, that the only way to conquer fear, dissipate doubts, and remove a burden of fresh-contracted guilt — is to look back to the cross! There, I see Jesus as the Sinner's Substitute, bearing our sins, in his own body on the tree, paying all the debt we had contracted, answering all the demands that can be made upon us, harmonizing all the perfections of God in our salvation, and providing a free and full salvation for us. As I look on the cross — I feel peace flow into my soul, and a holy quietness take possession of my spirit.
I ask, "What should I fear? Jesus has made a full atonement for all my sins. He has given full satisfaction, to the law and justice of God, for all my misdeeds.
Why should I doubt? God is love, or he would not have given his Son to die the just for the unjust. Having given his Son, to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself — will he not deal graciously with me, and freely give me all things?
Why should I carry a load of guilt? Has not Jesus been punished for me, that I may not be punished? Did not Jesus die, that I may live forever? Is not the atonement of God's own Son sufficient? Does not the blood of Jesus cleanse from all sin? If Jesus suffered for me, if he died in my stead — then surely I may go free.
Thus looking back to the cross, and exercising faith in Jesus, I find my fears depart, my doubts remove, and my sense of guilt taken away. I have peace with God, confidence in God, and can leave all things with God.
Sometimes I feel sad and lonely. I have no one to whom I can open my heart, or into whose ear I can pour all my complaints. I need one who has a fellow feeling with me. One who has experienced what I do. One who can stoop to and help me. At such times I find it best to look up to the throne of grace, and sigh for fellowship with Jesus. He has been tried in all points like as we are. He has a human heart. He has carried the experience of earth, with him to Heaven. He is touched with the feeling of our infirmities. He is our brother still. He remembers the lonely mountain, the howling wilderness, and the gloomy garden. He never forgets how he felt the need of sympathy, and friendly fellowship, when he went backwards and forwards to his disciples, and found them sleeping. I will therefore lift up my eyes to Jesus in the Heavens, and will seek to pour out my heart before him, and receive comfort and consolation from him. I have always one who feels for me, and feels with me. One that will listen to me, and prove his love by sustaining, cheering, and delivering me.
O Jesus, Savior of my soul, when I look up to you, and believe that you are before the Father for me, and ever sympathize with me — I feel relieved, and the principal sense of loneliness and isolation leaves me! O my soul, whenever earth refuses to furnish you with a companion, a comforter, a friend who can identify himself with you — look up to Heaven, for Heaven will furnish what earth denies!
"Why should any living man complain?" Lamentations 3:39. Occasionally, I am tempted to complain of my hard lot — and think myself harshly dealt with. Ingratitude rises and works in my heart. This always makes me wretched. I then find it profitable to look down into Hell — and realize its horrors and agonies as my just desert.
If anyone ever deserved to go to Hell — I did!
If justice was ever honored in a sinner's damnation — it would have been in mine!
If anyone was ever saved by grace alone — I am the man!
Shall I then, who deserve to be in Hell — but am not; shall I who am an heir of Heavenly glory — though no one ever deserved it less; shall I, because of a few trials, troubles, and disappointments, or because I have rather a heavy cross to carry — shall I dare to murmur, or fret, or complain, or think myself harshly dealt with?
Shocking inconsistency! What are my present pains or sufferings — compared with the Hell that I deserve!
All the afflictions that I am called to endure here on earth — cannot even be compared with only twenty-four hours in Hell! And yet my desert is, not to be in Hell for a few hours — but forever! Surely every lost soul, every damned spirit — will be ready to rise up in judgment against me — if I complain of my present lot! What base gratitude — if I do not praise the Lord with joyful lips, for His rich, free, and sovereign grace!
O my soul, whenever tempted to complain of my difficult lot — think of my deservings! Think of what would have been my eternal doom — if God had not saved me by His sovereign grace! Yes, I do find that looking down into Hell . . .
silences my complaints,
awakens my gratitude, and
humbles me in the dust before my God!
Now and then, I get weary and ready to faint along the long and difficult way. The journey appears so long, the road is so rough, the seasons are so trying, the difficulties increase so fast — and my strength and courage are so small. Every little trouble is magnified — and numberless mercies are overlooked! Then I find it of advantage to look forward to — the heavenly crown promised, the glorious mansion provided, and the eternal kingdom prepared. O what a splendid close to this dreary pilgrimage! O what a finish to this exhausting race!
A heavenly crown — and a crown for the likes of me! A crown of life, a crown of righteousness! A crown of glory which fades not away.
A mansion — a glorious residence in my Heavenly Father's house. A residence fitted up by Jesus expressly for me. A residence which anticipates all my wishes, gratifies all my desires, and far exceeds my highest expectations!
An eternal kingdom — and a kingdom prepared to express God's highest love, to display God's deepest wisdom, and to exhibit the exuberant riches of God's glorious grace!
Heaven! Oh, what will Heaven be! The vision of God. The presence of Jesus! "You have made known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand!" Psalms 16:11
Heaven! Oh, what I shall see, hear, feel, and possess in Heaven! "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined — what God has prepared for those who love him!" 1 Corinthians 2:9
Looking forward to Heaven — how can I do otherwise than pant for glory? What are the trials along the way — when I think of the end! What are the sorrows of earth — when I think of the joys of Heaven! What are my sufferings for Christ — when compared with the glory which shall be conferred by Christ!
May I, whenever depressed and disconsolate, whenever disheartened and cast down, whenever sad or sorrowful — look forward to the eternal rest which remains for the people of God — to the glorious inheritance promised, to that eternal city that has foundations, whose builder and maker is God. O the glory, the glory — which awaits the way-worn pilgrim, the toil-worn laborer, the exhausted sufferer in the cause of Christ!
And is it not the province and prerogative of faith to act thus? Does not faith ever look BACK to the cross of Jesus — for pardon, peace, and reconciliation to God? Does it not look UP to the throne of God — and sigh for fellowship with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ? Does it not look DOWN into the eternal pit, the prison, the torments, from which there is no redemption — in order to fill the soul with gratitude, love, and praise? Does it not also look FORWARD to the unfading crown, the eternal kingdom, and the glorious inheritance — and inspire with hallowed pantings for glory? Yes, it is even so!
Then, O gracious God, increase my faith, and help me to look BACK to Jesus crucified for me — that I may enjoy unspeakable peace, and solid satisfaction of soul!
Help me to look UP to your throne — that I may enjoy the closest, the sweetest, the most hallowed fellowship with you possible!
Help me to look DOWN to the gloomy regions of despair, the abode of misery and woe — that I may be grateful for my deliverance from such a fearful doom!
Help me to look FORWARD to the glory, the splendor, the unspeakable bliss — which is laid up for all who love you, and look for the appearing of your Son.
May my faith be strong, simple, and rightly directed. May it be influential and work by love. May it grow exceedingly, and be found unto your praise and honor and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ. Author of faith — work faith in me! Object of faith — be ever present with me! End of faith — let me embrace you, and rejoice in you forever!
James Smith, 1858
My mind is at times harassed with fear, tormented with doubts, and burdened with a load of guilt. I have tried a variety of things in order to get relief, and have looked for deliverance in many ways. But experience has taught me, that the only way to conquer fear, dissipate doubts, and remove a burden of fresh-contracted guilt — is to look back to the cross! There, I see Jesus as the Sinner's Substitute, bearing our sins, in his own body on the tree, paying all the debt we had contracted, answering all the demands that can be made upon us, harmonizing all the perfections of God in our salvation, and providing a free and full salvation for us. As I look on the cross — I feel peace flow into my soul, and a holy quietness take possession of my spirit.
I ask, "What should I fear? Jesus has made a full atonement for all my sins. He has given full satisfaction, to the law and justice of God, for all my misdeeds.
Why should I doubt? God is love, or he would not have given his Son to die the just for the unjust. Having given his Son, to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself — will he not deal graciously with me, and freely give me all things?
Why should I carry a load of guilt? Has not Jesus been punished for me, that I may not be punished? Did not Jesus die, that I may live forever? Is not the atonement of God's own Son sufficient? Does not the blood of Jesus cleanse from all sin? If Jesus suffered for me, if he died in my stead — then surely I may go free.
Thus looking back to the cross, and exercising faith in Jesus, I find my fears depart, my doubts remove, and my sense of guilt taken away. I have peace with God, confidence in God, and can leave all things with God.
Sometimes I feel sad and lonely. I have no one to whom I can open my heart, or into whose ear I can pour all my complaints. I need one who has a fellow feeling with me. One who has experienced what I do. One who can stoop to and help me. At such times I find it best to look up to the throne of grace, and sigh for fellowship with Jesus. He has been tried in all points like as we are. He has a human heart. He has carried the experience of earth, with him to Heaven. He is touched with the feeling of our infirmities. He is our brother still. He remembers the lonely mountain, the howling wilderness, and the gloomy garden. He never forgets how he felt the need of sympathy, and friendly fellowship, when he went backwards and forwards to his disciples, and found them sleeping. I will therefore lift up my eyes to Jesus in the Heavens, and will seek to pour out my heart before him, and receive comfort and consolation from him. I have always one who feels for me, and feels with me. One that will listen to me, and prove his love by sustaining, cheering, and delivering me.
O Jesus, Savior of my soul, when I look up to you, and believe that you are before the Father for me, and ever sympathize with me — I feel relieved, and the principal sense of loneliness and isolation leaves me! O my soul, whenever earth refuses to furnish you with a companion, a comforter, a friend who can identify himself with you — look up to Heaven, for Heaven will furnish what earth denies!
"Why should any living man complain?" Lamentations 3:39. Occasionally, I am tempted to complain of my hard lot — and think myself harshly dealt with. Ingratitude rises and works in my heart. This always makes me wretched. I then find it profitable to look down into Hell — and realize its horrors and agonies as my just desert.
If anyone ever deserved to go to Hell — I did!
If justice was ever honored in a sinner's damnation — it would have been in mine!
If anyone was ever saved by grace alone — I am the man!
Shall I then, who deserve to be in Hell — but am not; shall I who am an heir of Heavenly glory — though no one ever deserved it less; shall I, because of a few trials, troubles, and disappointments, or because I have rather a heavy cross to carry — shall I dare to murmur, or fret, or complain, or think myself harshly dealt with?
Shocking inconsistency! What are my present pains or sufferings — compared with the Hell that I deserve!
All the afflictions that I am called to endure here on earth — cannot even be compared with only twenty-four hours in Hell! And yet my desert is, not to be in Hell for a few hours — but forever! Surely every lost soul, every damned spirit — will be ready to rise up in judgment against me — if I complain of my present lot! What base gratitude — if I do not praise the Lord with joyful lips, for His rich, free, and sovereign grace!
O my soul, whenever tempted to complain of my difficult lot — think of my deservings! Think of what would have been my eternal doom — if God had not saved me by His sovereign grace! Yes, I do find that looking down into Hell . . .
silences my complaints,
awakens my gratitude, and
humbles me in the dust before my God!
Now and then, I get weary and ready to faint along the long and difficult way. The journey appears so long, the road is so rough, the seasons are so trying, the difficulties increase so fast — and my strength and courage are so small. Every little trouble is magnified — and numberless mercies are overlooked! Then I find it of advantage to look forward to — the heavenly crown promised, the glorious mansion provided, and the eternal kingdom prepared. O what a splendid close to this dreary pilgrimage! O what a finish to this exhausting race!
A heavenly crown — and a crown for the likes of me! A crown of life, a crown of righteousness! A crown of glory which fades not away.
A mansion — a glorious residence in my Heavenly Father's house. A residence fitted up by Jesus expressly for me. A residence which anticipates all my wishes, gratifies all my desires, and far exceeds my highest expectations!
An eternal kingdom — and a kingdom prepared to express God's highest love, to display God's deepest wisdom, and to exhibit the exuberant riches of God's glorious grace!
Heaven! Oh, what will Heaven be! The vision of God. The presence of Jesus! "You have made known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand!" Psalms 16:11
Heaven! Oh, what I shall see, hear, feel, and possess in Heaven! "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined — what God has prepared for those who love him!" 1 Corinthians 2:9
Looking forward to Heaven — how can I do otherwise than pant for glory? What are the trials along the way — when I think of the end! What are the sorrows of earth — when I think of the joys of Heaven! What are my sufferings for Christ — when compared with the glory which shall be conferred by Christ!
May I, whenever depressed and disconsolate, whenever disheartened and cast down, whenever sad or sorrowful — look forward to the eternal rest which remains for the people of God — to the glorious inheritance promised, to that eternal city that has foundations, whose builder and maker is God. O the glory, the glory — which awaits the way-worn pilgrim, the toil-worn laborer, the exhausted sufferer in the cause of Christ!
And is it not the province and prerogative of faith to act thus? Does not faith ever look BACK to the cross of Jesus — for pardon, peace, and reconciliation to God? Does it not look UP to the throne of God — and sigh for fellowship with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ? Does it not look DOWN into the eternal pit, the prison, the torments, from which there is no redemption — in order to fill the soul with gratitude, love, and praise? Does it not also look FORWARD to the unfading crown, the eternal kingdom, and the glorious inheritance — and inspire with hallowed pantings for glory? Yes, it is even so!
Then, O gracious God, increase my faith, and help me to look BACK to Jesus crucified for me — that I may enjoy unspeakable peace, and solid satisfaction of soul!
Help me to look UP to your throne — that I may enjoy the closest, the sweetest, the most hallowed fellowship with you possible!
Help me to look DOWN to the gloomy regions of despair, the abode of misery and woe — that I may be grateful for my deliverance from such a fearful doom!
Help me to look FORWARD to the glory, the splendor, the unspeakable bliss — which is laid up for all who love you, and look for the appearing of your Son.
May my faith be strong, simple, and rightly directed. May it be influential and work by love. May it grow exceedingly, and be found unto your praise and honor and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ. Author of faith — work faith in me! Object of faith — be ever present with me! End of faith — let me embrace you, and rejoice in you forever!
Twenty-four hours in Hell!
Twenty-four hours in Hell!
(James Smith, "ANTIDOTES!" 1858)
"Why should any living man complain?" Lamentations 3:39
Occasionally, I am tempted to complain of my hard lot--and think myself harshly dealt with. Ingratitude rises and works in my heart. This always makes me wretched. I then find it profitable to look down into Hell--and realize its horrors and agonies as my just deservings.
If anyone ever deserved to go to Hell--I did!
If justice was ever honored in a sinner's damnation--it would have been in mine!
If anyone was ever saved by grace alone--I am the man!
Shall I then, who deserve to be in Hell--but am not;
shall I, who am an heir of Heavenly glory--though no one ever deserved it less;
shall I, because of a few trials, troubles, and disappointments, or because I have rather a heavy cross to carry--
shall I dare to murmur, or fret, or complain, or think myself harshly dealt with?
Shocking inconsistency!
What are my present pains or sufferings--compared with the Hell that I deserve!
All the afflictions that I am called to endure here on earth--cannot be compared with only twenty-four hours in Hell! And yet my desert is, not to be in Hell for a few hours--but forever! Surely every lost soul, every damned spirit--will be ready to upbraid me--if I complain of my present lot! What base gratitude--if I do not praise the Lord with joyful lips, for His rich, free, and sovereign grace!
O my soul, whenever I am tempted to complain of my difficult lot--think of my deservings! Think of what would have been my eternal doom--if God had not saved me by His sovereign grace!
Yes, I do find that looking down into Hell . . .
silences my complaints,
awakens my gratitude, and
humbles me in the dust before my God!
(James Smith, "ANTIDOTES!" 1858)
"Why should any living man complain?" Lamentations 3:39
Occasionally, I am tempted to complain of my hard lot--and think myself harshly dealt with. Ingratitude rises and works in my heart. This always makes me wretched. I then find it profitable to look down into Hell--and realize its horrors and agonies as my just deservings.
If anyone ever deserved to go to Hell--I did!
If justice was ever honored in a sinner's damnation--it would have been in mine!
If anyone was ever saved by grace alone--I am the man!
Shall I then, who deserve to be in Hell--but am not;
shall I, who am an heir of Heavenly glory--though no one ever deserved it less;
shall I, because of a few trials, troubles, and disappointments, or because I have rather a heavy cross to carry--
shall I dare to murmur, or fret, or complain, or think myself harshly dealt with?
Shocking inconsistency!
What are my present pains or sufferings--compared with the Hell that I deserve!
All the afflictions that I am called to endure here on earth--cannot be compared with only twenty-four hours in Hell! And yet my desert is, not to be in Hell for a few hours--but forever! Surely every lost soul, every damned spirit--will be ready to upbraid me--if I complain of my present lot! What base gratitude--if I do not praise the Lord with joyful lips, for His rich, free, and sovereign grace!
O my soul, whenever I am tempted to complain of my difficult lot--think of my deservings! Think of what would have been my eternal doom--if God had not saved me by His sovereign grace!
Yes, I do find that looking down into Hell . . .
silences my complaints,
awakens my gratitude, and
humbles me in the dust before my God!
I am somewhat like that bird!
I am somewhat like that bird!
(James Smith, "Sighing for Jesus!" 1858)
"As the deer pants for streams of water--so my soul pants for you, O God! My soul thirsts for God, for the living God! When can I go and meet with God?" Psalm 42:1-2
I have just been reading of the last days of a true believer, and his whole dying experience was comprehended in one sentence, "I am sighing for Jesus!" He did not sigh for life, nor for ease--but he was sighing for Jesus.
I cannot help observing, how much of my experience now, is expressed in those words, "I am sighing for Jesus." Yes, yes, I can do without riches, or fame, or the honor which man confers. I am pretty well content with what providence sends me--and yet I often sigh, and sigh deeply too. Some would think me unhappy--but I am not. Some may conclude I am discontented with my situation in life--but I am not. Yet I sigh--I often sigh.
I have read of a bird, which if caught and caged--never ceases to sigh, until it obtains its liberty, or dies. I am somewhat like that bird, and I expect I shall continue to sigh--until I obtain my desire.
I have had a glimpse of Jesus--and I sigh for a full view of Him.
I have tasted the sweetness of communion with Him--and I sigh for uninterrupted fellowship.
I have felt a little of the cleansing influence of His precious blood, and Holy Spirit--and I sigh for a thorough cleansing, that I may be perfectly and forever holy.
I sigh for Jesus--that I may . . .
know Him more perfectly,
love Him more entirely, and
enjoy Him uninterruptedly!
I sigh to be exactly like Jesus!
I sigh to be forever with Jesus!
I believe that if I were just like Him, and always with Him--that I would sigh no more; and I think that nothing else will put a complete stop to my sighing.
Yes, the day is coming, and it may be very near--when the days of my mourning will be ended, and when I shall heave the last sigh, and begin the never-ending song! My sorrows will soon end, and my sighing will forever cease! I shall soon be with Jesus, like Jesus, and everlastingly employed in praising Jesus! And then, I shall sigh no more!
"The ransomed of the Lord will return. They will enter Zion with singing; everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away!" Isaiah 51:11
(James Smith, "Sighing for Jesus!" 1858)
"As the deer pants for streams of water--so my soul pants for you, O God! My soul thirsts for God, for the living God! When can I go and meet with God?" Psalm 42:1-2
I have just been reading of the last days of a true believer, and his whole dying experience was comprehended in one sentence, "I am sighing for Jesus!" He did not sigh for life, nor for ease--but he was sighing for Jesus.
I cannot help observing, how much of my experience now, is expressed in those words, "I am sighing for Jesus." Yes, yes, I can do without riches, or fame, or the honor which man confers. I am pretty well content with what providence sends me--and yet I often sigh, and sigh deeply too. Some would think me unhappy--but I am not. Some may conclude I am discontented with my situation in life--but I am not. Yet I sigh--I often sigh.
I have read of a bird, which if caught and caged--never ceases to sigh, until it obtains its liberty, or dies. I am somewhat like that bird, and I expect I shall continue to sigh--until I obtain my desire.
I have had a glimpse of Jesus--and I sigh for a full view of Him.
I have tasted the sweetness of communion with Him--and I sigh for uninterrupted fellowship.
I have felt a little of the cleansing influence of His precious blood, and Holy Spirit--and I sigh for a thorough cleansing, that I may be perfectly and forever holy.
I sigh for Jesus--that I may . . .
know Him more perfectly,
love Him more entirely, and
enjoy Him uninterruptedly!
I sigh to be exactly like Jesus!
I sigh to be forever with Jesus!
I believe that if I were just like Him, and always with Him--that I would sigh no more; and I think that nothing else will put a complete stop to my sighing.
Yes, the day is coming, and it may be very near--when the days of my mourning will be ended, and when I shall heave the last sigh, and begin the never-ending song! My sorrows will soon end, and my sighing will forever cease! I shall soon be with Jesus, like Jesus, and everlastingly employed in praising Jesus! And then, I shall sigh no more!
"The ransomed of the Lord will return. They will enter Zion with singing; everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away!" Isaiah 51:11
A Picture of your heart
"The human heart is most deceitful and desperately wicked. Who really knows how bad it is?" Jeremiah 17:9
The vilest and the foulest thing in all creation!
The vilest and the foulest thing in all creation!
(James Smith, "Sunny Subjects for All Seasons" 1858)
"The Lord saw how great man's wickedness on the earth had become, and that every inclination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil all the time." Genesis 6:5
"The human heart is the most deceitful of all things, and desperately wicked. Who really knows how bad it is?" Jeremiah 17:9
No man by nature really believes God's representation of the human heart. Nor does the young Christian realize it fully. God calls us to learn the plague of the heart.
The vilest and the foulest thing in all creation--is the heart of man! There are profound depths of evil there! There are the seeds of all dreadful moral maladies there. No man's conduct, as bad as it may be–is ever as bad as his heart is.
Just in proportion, as we learn the plague of our own hearts--do we . . .
admire the free and distinguishing grace of God,
see the need of the Holy Spirit's work and operation,
value the glorious atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ.
It is a life's lesson--to learn the plague of one's own heart.
(James Smith, "Sunny Subjects for All Seasons" 1858)
"The Lord saw how great man's wickedness on the earth had become, and that every inclination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil all the time." Genesis 6:5
"The human heart is the most deceitful of all things, and desperately wicked. Who really knows how bad it is?" Jeremiah 17:9
No man by nature really believes God's representation of the human heart. Nor does the young Christian realize it fully. God calls us to learn the plague of the heart.
The vilest and the foulest thing in all creation--is the heart of man! There are profound depths of evil there! There are the seeds of all dreadful moral maladies there. No man's conduct, as bad as it may be–is ever as bad as his heart is.
Just in proportion, as we learn the plague of our own hearts--do we . . .
admire the free and distinguishing grace of God,
see the need of the Holy Spirit's work and operation,
value the glorious atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ.
It is a life's lesson--to learn the plague of one's own heart.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Going to Read Ephesians 93 times in seven days.
Yes I am going to try and Ephesians 93 times in seven days...
I will let you if I succeed or fail...
Here is Epesians the book for you to read in ESV.
Chapter 1
1Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God,
To the saints who are in Ephesus, and are faithful[a] in Christ Jesus:
2 Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
Spiritual Blessings in Christ
3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, 4 even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love 5 he predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, 6 to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved. 7 In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, 8which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight 9 making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ 10as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.
11In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will, 12so that we who were the first to hope in Christ might be to the praise of his glory. 13In him you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, 14who is(AI) the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it,[e](AM) to the praise of his glory.
15 For this reason, because I have heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love toward all the saints, 16 I do not cease to give thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers, 17 that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and of revelation in the knowledge of him, 18 having the eyes of your hearts enlightened, that you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, 19 and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power toward us who believe, according to the working of his great might 20that he worked in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, 21 far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the one to come. 22And he put all things under his feet and gave him as head over all things to the church, 23 which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all.
Chapter 2
1 And you were dead in the trespasses and sins 2 in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience— 3 among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. 4 But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, 5even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ— by grace you have been saved— 6and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, 7 so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. 8 For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, 9 not a result of works, so that no one may boast. 10 For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.
11 Therefore remember that at one time you Gentiles in the flesh, called "the uncircumcision" by what is called the circumcision, which is made in the flesh by hands— 12 remember that you were at that time separated from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. 13 But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. 14 For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility 15 by abolishing the law of commandments expressed in ordinances, that he might create in himself one new man in place of the two, so making peace, 16and might reconcile us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby killing the hostility. 17 And he came and preached peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near. 18 For through him we both have access in one Spirit to the Father. 19 So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, 20 built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, 21 in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord. 22 In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit.
Chapter 3
1 For this reason I, Paul, a prisoner for Christ Jesus on behalf of you Gentiles— 2assuming that you have heard of the stewardship of God’s grace that was given to me for you, 3 how the mystery was made known to me by revelation, as I have written briefly. 4 When you read this, you can perceive my insight into the mystery of Christ, 5which was not made known to the sons of men in other generations as it has now been revealed to his holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit. 6 This mystery is that the Gentiles are fellow heirs, members of the same body, and partakers of the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel.
7 Of this gospel I was made a minister according to the gift of God’s grace, which was given me by the working of his power. 8 To me, though I am the very least of all the saints, this grace was given, to preach to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ, 9 and to bring to light for everyone what is the plan of the mystery hidden for ages in God who created all things, 10 so that through the church the manifold wisdom of God might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places. 11 This was according to the eternal purpose that he has realized in Christ Jesus our Lord, 12 in whom we have boldness and access with confidence through our faith in him. 13 So I ask you not to lose heart over what I am suffering for you, which is your glory.
14 For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, 15 from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, 16 that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, 17 so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, 18 may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, 19and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.
20(AU) Now to(AV) him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think,(AW) according to the power at work within us, 21(AX) to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.
Chapter 4
1 I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, 2 with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, 3eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. 4 There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call— 5 one Lord, one faith, one baptism, 6 one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all. 7 But grace was given to each one of us according to the measure of Christ’s gift. 8 Therefore it says,
"When he ascended on high he led a host of captives,
and he gave gifts to men."
9 In saying, "He ascended," what does it mean but that he had also descended into the lower regions, the earth? 10 He who descended is the one who also ascended far above all the heavens, that he might fill all things.) 11 And he gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the shepherds and teachers, 12 to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, 13 until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, 14 so that we may no longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by human cunning, by craftiness in deceitful schemes. 15 Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, 16 from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love.
17 Now this I say and testify in the Lord, that you must no longer walk as the Gentiles do, in the futility of their minds. 18 They are darkened in their understanding, alienated from the life of God because of the ignorance that is in them, due to their hardness of heart. 19 They have become callous and have given themselves up to sensuality, greedy to practice every kind of impurity. 20 But that is not the way you learned Christ!— 21assuming that you have heard about him and were taught in him, as the truth is in Jesus, 22 to put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, 23 and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, 24 and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.
25 Therefore, having put away falsehood, let each one of you speak the truth with his neighbor, for we are members one of another. 26 Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, 27 and give no opportunity to the devil. 28 Let the thief no longer steal, but rather let him labor, doing honest work with his own hands, so that he may have something to share with anyone in need. 29 Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear. 30 And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. 31 Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. 32 Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.
Chapter 5
1 Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children. 2 And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.
3 But sexual immorality and all impurity or covetousness must not even be named among you, as is proper among saints. 4 Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking, which are out of place, but instead let there be thanksgiving. 5 For you may be sure of this, that everyone who is sexually immoral or impure, or who is covetous (that is, an idolater), has no inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and God. 6 Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of these things the wrath of God comes upon the sons of disobedience. 7 Therefore do not become partners with them; 8 for at one time you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light 9 (for the fruit of light is found in all that is good and right and true), 10 and try to discern what is pleasing to the Lord. 11 Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them. 12 For it is shameful even to speak of the things that they do in secret. 13But when anything is exposed by the light, it becomes visible, 14 for anything that becomes visible is light. Therefore it says,
"Awake, O sleeper,
and arise from the dead,
and Christ will shine on you."
15 Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, 16 making the best use of the time, because the days are evil. 17 Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is. 18 And do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit, 19 addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart, 20 giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, 21 submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ.
22 Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord. 23 For the husband is the head of the wife even as Christ is the head of the church, his body, and is himself its Savior. 24 Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit in everything to their husbands.
25 Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, 26that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, 27 so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish. 28 In the same way husbands should love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. 29For no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, just as Christ does the church, 30 because we are members of his body. 31 "Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh." 32 This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church. 33 However, let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband.
Chapter 6
1 Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. 2 "Honor your father and mother" (this is the first commandment with a promise), 3 "that it may go well with you and that you may live long in the land." 4 Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.
5 Slaves, obey your earthly masters with fear and trembling, with a sincere heart, as you would Christ, 6not by the way of eye-service, as people-pleasers, but as servants of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart, 7 rendering service with a good will as to the Lord and not to man, 8 knowing that whatever good anyone does, this he will receive back from the Lord, whether he is a slave or free. 9 Masters, do the same to them, and stop your threatening, knowing that he who is both their Master and yours is in heaven, and that there is no partiality with him.
10 Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. 11 Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. 12 For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. 13 Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm. 14 Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and(AA) having put on the breastplate of righteousness, 15 and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. 16 In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one; 17 and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, 18 praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints, 19 and also for me, that words may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel, 20 for which I am an ambassador in chains, that I may declare it boldly, as I ought to speak.
21 So that you also may know how I am and what I am doing, Tychicus the beloved brother and faithful minister in the Lord will tell you everything. 22 I have sent him to you for this very purpose, that you may know how we are, and that he may encourage your hearts.
23 Peace be to the brothers, and love with faith, from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. 24 Grace be with all who love our Lord Jesus Christ with love incorruptible.
I will let you if I succeed or fail...
Here is Epesians the book for you to read in ESV.
Chapter 1
1Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God,
To the saints who are in Ephesus, and are faithful[a] in Christ Jesus:
2 Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
Spiritual Blessings in Christ
3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, 4 even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love 5 he predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, 6 to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved. 7 In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, 8which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight 9 making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ 10as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.
11In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will, 12so that we who were the first to hope in Christ might be to the praise of his glory. 13In him you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, 14who is(AI) the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it,[e](AM) to the praise of his glory.
15 For this reason, because I have heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love toward all the saints, 16 I do not cease to give thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers, 17 that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and of revelation in the knowledge of him, 18 having the eyes of your hearts enlightened, that you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, 19 and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power toward us who believe, according to the working of his great might 20that he worked in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, 21 far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the one to come. 22And he put all things under his feet and gave him as head over all things to the church, 23 which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all.
Chapter 2
1 And you were dead in the trespasses and sins 2 in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience— 3 among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. 4 But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, 5even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ— by grace you have been saved— 6and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, 7 so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. 8 For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, 9 not a result of works, so that no one may boast. 10 For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.
11 Therefore remember that at one time you Gentiles in the flesh, called "the uncircumcision" by what is called the circumcision, which is made in the flesh by hands— 12 remember that you were at that time separated from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. 13 But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. 14 For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility 15 by abolishing the law of commandments expressed in ordinances, that he might create in himself one new man in place of the two, so making peace, 16and might reconcile us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby killing the hostility. 17 And he came and preached peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near. 18 For through him we both have access in one Spirit to the Father. 19 So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, 20 built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, 21 in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord. 22 In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit.
Chapter 3
1 For this reason I, Paul, a prisoner for Christ Jesus on behalf of you Gentiles— 2assuming that you have heard of the stewardship of God’s grace that was given to me for you, 3 how the mystery was made known to me by revelation, as I have written briefly. 4 When you read this, you can perceive my insight into the mystery of Christ, 5which was not made known to the sons of men in other generations as it has now been revealed to his holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit. 6 This mystery is that the Gentiles are fellow heirs, members of the same body, and partakers of the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel.
7 Of this gospel I was made a minister according to the gift of God’s grace, which was given me by the working of his power. 8 To me, though I am the very least of all the saints, this grace was given, to preach to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ, 9 and to bring to light for everyone what is the plan of the mystery hidden for ages in God who created all things, 10 so that through the church the manifold wisdom of God might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places. 11 This was according to the eternal purpose that he has realized in Christ Jesus our Lord, 12 in whom we have boldness and access with confidence through our faith in him. 13 So I ask you not to lose heart over what I am suffering for you, which is your glory.
14 For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, 15 from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, 16 that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, 17 so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, 18 may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, 19and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.
20(AU) Now to(AV) him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think,(AW) according to the power at work within us, 21(AX) to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.
Chapter 4
1 I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, 2 with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, 3eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. 4 There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call— 5 one Lord, one faith, one baptism, 6 one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all. 7 But grace was given to each one of us according to the measure of Christ’s gift. 8 Therefore it says,
"When he ascended on high he led a host of captives,
and he gave gifts to men."
9 In saying, "He ascended," what does it mean but that he had also descended into the lower regions, the earth? 10 He who descended is the one who also ascended far above all the heavens, that he might fill all things.) 11 And he gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the shepherds and teachers, 12 to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, 13 until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, 14 so that we may no longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by human cunning, by craftiness in deceitful schemes. 15 Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, 16 from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love.
17 Now this I say and testify in the Lord, that you must no longer walk as the Gentiles do, in the futility of their minds. 18 They are darkened in their understanding, alienated from the life of God because of the ignorance that is in them, due to their hardness of heart. 19 They have become callous and have given themselves up to sensuality, greedy to practice every kind of impurity. 20 But that is not the way you learned Christ!— 21assuming that you have heard about him and were taught in him, as the truth is in Jesus, 22 to put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, 23 and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, 24 and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.
25 Therefore, having put away falsehood, let each one of you speak the truth with his neighbor, for we are members one of another. 26 Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, 27 and give no opportunity to the devil. 28 Let the thief no longer steal, but rather let him labor, doing honest work with his own hands, so that he may have something to share with anyone in need. 29 Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear. 30 And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. 31 Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. 32 Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.
Chapter 5
1 Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children. 2 And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.
3 But sexual immorality and all impurity or covetousness must not even be named among you, as is proper among saints. 4 Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking, which are out of place, but instead let there be thanksgiving. 5 For you may be sure of this, that everyone who is sexually immoral or impure, or who is covetous (that is, an idolater), has no inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and God. 6 Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of these things the wrath of God comes upon the sons of disobedience. 7 Therefore do not become partners with them; 8 for at one time you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light 9 (for the fruit of light is found in all that is good and right and true), 10 and try to discern what is pleasing to the Lord. 11 Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them. 12 For it is shameful even to speak of the things that they do in secret. 13But when anything is exposed by the light, it becomes visible, 14 for anything that becomes visible is light. Therefore it says,
"Awake, O sleeper,
and arise from the dead,
and Christ will shine on you."
15 Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, 16 making the best use of the time, because the days are evil. 17 Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is. 18 And do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit, 19 addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart, 20 giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, 21 submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ.
22 Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord. 23 For the husband is the head of the wife even as Christ is the head of the church, his body, and is himself its Savior. 24 Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit in everything to their husbands.
25 Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, 26that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, 27 so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish. 28 In the same way husbands should love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. 29For no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, just as Christ does the church, 30 because we are members of his body. 31 "Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh." 32 This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church. 33 However, let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband.
Chapter 6
1 Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. 2 "Honor your father and mother" (this is the first commandment with a promise), 3 "that it may go well with you and that you may live long in the land." 4 Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.
5 Slaves, obey your earthly masters with fear and trembling, with a sincere heart, as you would Christ, 6not by the way of eye-service, as people-pleasers, but as servants of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart, 7 rendering service with a good will as to the Lord and not to man, 8 knowing that whatever good anyone does, this he will receive back from the Lord, whether he is a slave or free. 9 Masters, do the same to them, and stop your threatening, knowing that he who is both their Master and yours is in heaven, and that there is no partiality with him.
10 Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. 11 Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. 12 For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. 13 Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm. 14 Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and(AA) having put on the breastplate of righteousness, 15 and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. 16 In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one; 17 and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, 18 praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints, 19 and also for me, that words may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel, 20 for which I am an ambassador in chains, that I may declare it boldly, as I ought to speak.
21 So that you also may know how I am and what I am doing, Tychicus the beloved brother and faithful minister in the Lord will tell you everything. 22 I have sent him to you for this very purpose, that you may know how we are, and that he may encourage your hearts.
23 Peace be to the brothers, and love with faith, from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. 24 Grace be with all who love our Lord Jesus Christ with love incorruptible.
My poor, depraved, polluted heart!
My poor, depraved, polluted heart!
(James Smith, "Precious Things from the Everlasting Hills" 1853)
"You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind!" Matthew 22:37
God desires to be loved by His redeemed children. He values our love. He speaks to us as His children, and with paternal tenderness asks, "My son, give me your heart!" How amazing, how astonishing is this! The High and Lofty One, who inhabits eternity--asks for my heart--my poor, depraved, polluted heart!
O my God! take it, purify it, inhabit it--and use it for Your own glory and praise!
(James Smith, "Precious Things from the Everlasting Hills" 1853)
"You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind!" Matthew 22:37
God desires to be loved by His redeemed children. He values our love. He speaks to us as His children, and with paternal tenderness asks, "My son, give me your heart!" How amazing, how astonishing is this! The High and Lofty One, who inhabits eternity--asks for my heart--my poor, depraved, polluted heart!
O my God! take it, purify it, inhabit it--and use it for Your own glory and praise!
Poor Jack!
Poor Jack!
by James Smith, 1858
A few years ago it pleased the Holy Spirit to work a saving change in the heart of a poor sailor, while out at sea. Jack knew nothing of real religion, nor had he one on board with him to whom he could open his mind. Convinced of sin, afraid of hell--he was terrified and alarmed, and knew not what to do. He prayed, obtained a Bible, read it, and sunk still deeper into distress of soul. At length all hope that he could be saved was taken away, and self-despair seized him. He considered his case to be singular, and was now tempted to drown his convictions in the intoxicating cup, and then to end his miserable life by suicide.
At length, when he had done business in these deep waters of despair for a time, the Holy Spirit revealed Jesus to his soul as an able and willing Savior; and, committing himself entirely to Jesus, to be saved wholly by him--he found peace with God, and was filled with unspeakable joy.
In this state of mind he reached the port, and soon inquired where he could hear the Gospel. He was directed to a place of worship, where a friend of mine was preaching. When Jack entered, he was all eyes and ears. The first hymn was full of Christ, and poor Jack felt his heart swell. In the prayer, the minister appeared to speak the very feelings of Jack's soul. As sweet as the first hymn was--the second appeared to be sweeter, and the tears flowed down poor Jack's cheeks!
At length the minister arose to announce his text, which was Colossians 3:11, and fixing his eyes on the poor sailor--he emphatically pronounced the words, "Christ is all!" When the minister once more said, "Christ is all!" Jack could contain himself no longer, and at the top of his voice, Jack shouted--"And poor Jack's nothing at all!"
This was just the poor sailor's religion--"Jesus Christ is all in all--and poor Jack is nothing at all!" And this is the religion of every one who is taught of God!
The work of the Holy Spirit has a twofold tendency--to humble the sinner, and exalt the Savior! And just in proportion as we are taught by the Spirit of God, shall we have low views of ourselves--and high thoughts of Christ. As the sinner sinks--the Savior rises in his estimation.
Christ is all that the sinner needs--and all that the saint desires. He is a perfect Savior--and an infinite portion. Christ has all, and gives all that we can need: his blood procures our pardon, his righteousness secures our justification, his Spirit sanctifies our nature, and his fullness supplies all our needs! He is just suited to the sinner--and the sinner is just suited to him. He loves to save, to save freely, to save perfectly, and to save forever; and the sinner who is taught of God, feels that he needs just such a Savior. And this makes the Gospel so sweet and precious to every truly convinced sinner, because it proclaims as from the mouth of God, that the Lord Jesus is a perfect Savior--a present Savior--a willing Savior--who never did, and never will, cast out one that comes to him.
Reader, are you truly saved? If so--your religion is the same as poor Jack's, and you can say:
"I am a poor sinner and nothing at all,
And Jesus Christ is all in all!"
You must be brought to this--before you can be saved, for salvation is entirely of grace, and grace only saves the unworthy. Grace will save you--if you feel that you are lost, and unable to do anything toward your own salvation, and are willing to be saved gratuitously through simple faith in Christ. Anyone may be saved in this way--but there is no possibility of being saved in any other way; for there is no other name under heaven given among men whereby we can be saved. "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ--and you shall be saved!" For, "Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life, but whoever rejects the Son will not see life, for God's wrath remains on him!"
by James Smith, 1858
A few years ago it pleased the Holy Spirit to work a saving change in the heart of a poor sailor, while out at sea. Jack knew nothing of real religion, nor had he one on board with him to whom he could open his mind. Convinced of sin, afraid of hell--he was terrified and alarmed, and knew not what to do. He prayed, obtained a Bible, read it, and sunk still deeper into distress of soul. At length all hope that he could be saved was taken away, and self-despair seized him. He considered his case to be singular, and was now tempted to drown his convictions in the intoxicating cup, and then to end his miserable life by suicide.
At length, when he had done business in these deep waters of despair for a time, the Holy Spirit revealed Jesus to his soul as an able and willing Savior; and, committing himself entirely to Jesus, to be saved wholly by him--he found peace with God, and was filled with unspeakable joy.
In this state of mind he reached the port, and soon inquired where he could hear the Gospel. He was directed to a place of worship, where a friend of mine was preaching. When Jack entered, he was all eyes and ears. The first hymn was full of Christ, and poor Jack felt his heart swell. In the prayer, the minister appeared to speak the very feelings of Jack's soul. As sweet as the first hymn was--the second appeared to be sweeter, and the tears flowed down poor Jack's cheeks!
At length the minister arose to announce his text, which was Colossians 3:11, and fixing his eyes on the poor sailor--he emphatically pronounced the words, "Christ is all!" When the minister once more said, "Christ is all!" Jack could contain himself no longer, and at the top of his voice, Jack shouted--"And poor Jack's nothing at all!"
This was just the poor sailor's religion--"Jesus Christ is all in all--and poor Jack is nothing at all!" And this is the religion of every one who is taught of God!
The work of the Holy Spirit has a twofold tendency--to humble the sinner, and exalt the Savior! And just in proportion as we are taught by the Spirit of God, shall we have low views of ourselves--and high thoughts of Christ. As the sinner sinks--the Savior rises in his estimation.
Christ is all that the sinner needs--and all that the saint desires. He is a perfect Savior--and an infinite portion. Christ has all, and gives all that we can need: his blood procures our pardon, his righteousness secures our justification, his Spirit sanctifies our nature, and his fullness supplies all our needs! He is just suited to the sinner--and the sinner is just suited to him. He loves to save, to save freely, to save perfectly, and to save forever; and the sinner who is taught of God, feels that he needs just such a Savior. And this makes the Gospel so sweet and precious to every truly convinced sinner, because it proclaims as from the mouth of God, that the Lord Jesus is a perfect Savior--a present Savior--a willing Savior--who never did, and never will, cast out one that comes to him.
Reader, are you truly saved? If so--your religion is the same as poor Jack's, and you can say:
"I am a poor sinner and nothing at all,
And Jesus Christ is all in all!"
You must be brought to this--before you can be saved, for salvation is entirely of grace, and grace only saves the unworthy. Grace will save you--if you feel that you are lost, and unable to do anything toward your own salvation, and are willing to be saved gratuitously through simple faith in Christ. Anyone may be saved in this way--but there is no possibility of being saved in any other way; for there is no other name under heaven given among men whereby we can be saved. "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ--and you shall be saved!" For, "Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life, but whoever rejects the Son will not see life, for God's wrath remains on him!"
Not only God but Mediator!
The Father has stored up in Christ Jesus, as in a reservoir, for the use of all his people, his eternal love and his unbounded grace, that it may come to us through Christ Jesus, and that we may glorify him. All power is put into his hands, and life, and light, and grace, are to the full at his disposal. “He shutteth and no man openeth, he openeth and no man shutteth.” He has received gifts for men; yea, for the righteous also. Not only as the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, is he the possessor of heaven and earth, and therefore filled with all fullness, but seeing that as the Mediator he has finished our redemption, “he is made of God unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption.” Glory be to his name for this double fullness.
HELL!
HELL!
James Smith, 1858
"The rich man also died and was buried. In Hell, where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side. So he called to him: Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire!" Luke 16:22-24
HELL! What is it? It is God's great prison, where His criminals are confined. It is the place of punishment--where the wages of sin are paid. It is the house of despair, the residence of desperation, the dwelling-place of the worm that never dies. It is called the lake of fire, burning with brimstone. It is a place of terrible torture, dreadful agony, and soul-racking remorse. Hope never enters there. Repose is never enjoyed there. Light never shines there. But all is pain, gloom, restless agony, and indescribable torment! There is weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth--forever!
HELL! Who are there? The rich man, at whose gate Lazarus lay, is there. Judas, who betrayed Jesus, is there. Cain, who slew his brother, is there. Demas, who preferred the world to Christ, is there. The covetous and thieves are there! The immoral and liars are there! The proud and vain are there! All who made light of the Gospel are there! All who neglected the great salvation are there! All who worshiped the Roman beast are there! And they are all "tormented with fire and brimstone in the presence of the holy angels, and in the presence of the Lamb! The smoke of their torment ascends up forever and ever--and they have no rest day nor night!"
Many perhaps whom you have known are there! Some of our relations even may be there! Old friends of ours may be there. Some who lived in the same street, met in the same place of worship, and whom we once hoped to meet in Heaven--are there!
Who are there? Why, we were nearly there ourselves! We lay at the entrance of Hell! We were within a few inches of Hell! A slight accident, a stroke, or a disease--would have sent us there. Yes--but for free and sovereign grace--WE would have been in Hell!
"Nothing impure will ever enter it, nor will anyone who does what is shameful or deceitful, but only those whose names are written in the Lamb's book of life!" Revelation 21:27
"Outside are the dogs, the sorcerers, the sexually immoral, the murderers, the idolaters, and everyone who loves and practices lying!" Revelation 22:15
HELL! What do they suffer there? No tongue can tell. No pen can write; no heart can conceive--what lost souls suffer in Hell! Who can tell what the unmixed wrath, the fiery indignation, the endless curse of Almighty God is? Who can set forth what sin deserves, and what is the obstinate sinner's due?
They weep, they wail, they gnash their teeth. They are tormented in eternal flames. In every member of the body, in every power of the soul--the lost in Hell will suffer. Memory, conscience, and the imagination--will especially increase their agonies! And hopeless despair will render their doom indescribably dreadful!
What do they suffer in Hell? Tell! O tell me--what God can justly inflict, what an immortal man can bear, what the threatenings of the violated law require, and how devils can add to the torments of lost souls--and I will tell you what they may suffer in Hell!
But, O! may you never know in your own experience what lost souls have to endure, and endure forever! Could we but lift the veil that conceals that awful place from our view, and see but for five minutes the agonies of those in Hell--we would never forget the sight! Our flesh would tremble, our hair would stand up on our heads, and our souls would be paralyzed with horror!
HELL! Who will yet go to Hell? Who? Perhaps the reader of these lines! Who? ah, perhaps many of whom we have now no suspicion! Will any of our children go there? Will any of our brothers or sisters go there? Will any of the members of the church go there? Will any of this congregation go there?
Who will go there? All liars shall have their part in the lake that burns with brimstone and fire. All swearers, all drunkards--will find a place set apart in Hell for them. All immoral people; all covetous and dishonest people--all will find a place in Hell prepared for them.
Who will go to Hell? All who live and die impenitent; "for unless you repent--you shall all likewise perish!" All unbelievers; for "he who believes not, shall be damned!" All who are in their natural state; for "unless a man is born again--he cannot enter into the kingdom of God."
Without faith in Christ, and repentance toward God; without love to God and man, the proof and evidence of the new birth; without union to Christ, and the possession of the Spirit of Christ--there is no escaping the wrath to come--the person must go to Hell! O solemn consideration! Let a man therefore examine himself, whether he is in the faith; let each man and woman prove their own selves, and see if Christ is in them.
HELL! How may we escape it? Only by fleeing to Jesus, by believing in Jesus, and receiving the Spirit of Jesus. No one can save us but Jesus, for there is no other name under Heaven given among men, whereby we can be saved. Jesus has done all that is necessary to save souls from Hell, and he is ready to put on our account--what he has done to us; whenever we go to him, plead with him, trust in him, and commit our souls to him. We need not go to Hell, for Jesus is both able and willing to save us; and yet we must go to Hell, unless we apply to him, to be saved by him.
As therefore Hell is so dreadful; as the punishments of Hell are eternal; as once lost, we are lost irrecoverably--as no one can save us but Jesus--and as Jesus will only save those who make personal application to him--let us at once, with all our hearts and souls, apply to Christ! "Behold! now is the accepted time. Behold! now is the day of salvation." Let us then "Seek the Lord while he may be found; call on him while he is near. Let the wicked forsake his way and the evil man his thoughts. Let him turn to the Lord, and he will have mercy on him, and to our God, for he will freely pardon!" Isaiah 55:6-7
James Smith, 1858
"The rich man also died and was buried. In Hell, where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side. So he called to him: Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire!" Luke 16:22-24
HELL! What is it? It is God's great prison, where His criminals are confined. It is the place of punishment--where the wages of sin are paid. It is the house of despair, the residence of desperation, the dwelling-place of the worm that never dies. It is called the lake of fire, burning with brimstone. It is a place of terrible torture, dreadful agony, and soul-racking remorse. Hope never enters there. Repose is never enjoyed there. Light never shines there. But all is pain, gloom, restless agony, and indescribable torment! There is weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth--forever!
HELL! Who are there? The rich man, at whose gate Lazarus lay, is there. Judas, who betrayed Jesus, is there. Cain, who slew his brother, is there. Demas, who preferred the world to Christ, is there. The covetous and thieves are there! The immoral and liars are there! The proud and vain are there! All who made light of the Gospel are there! All who neglected the great salvation are there! All who worshiped the Roman beast are there! And they are all "tormented with fire and brimstone in the presence of the holy angels, and in the presence of the Lamb! The smoke of their torment ascends up forever and ever--and they have no rest day nor night!"
Many perhaps whom you have known are there! Some of our relations even may be there! Old friends of ours may be there. Some who lived in the same street, met in the same place of worship, and whom we once hoped to meet in Heaven--are there!
Who are there? Why, we were nearly there ourselves! We lay at the entrance of Hell! We were within a few inches of Hell! A slight accident, a stroke, or a disease--would have sent us there. Yes--but for free and sovereign grace--WE would have been in Hell!
"Nothing impure will ever enter it, nor will anyone who does what is shameful or deceitful, but only those whose names are written in the Lamb's book of life!" Revelation 21:27
"Outside are the dogs, the sorcerers, the sexually immoral, the murderers, the idolaters, and everyone who loves and practices lying!" Revelation 22:15
HELL! What do they suffer there? No tongue can tell. No pen can write; no heart can conceive--what lost souls suffer in Hell! Who can tell what the unmixed wrath, the fiery indignation, the endless curse of Almighty God is? Who can set forth what sin deserves, and what is the obstinate sinner's due?
They weep, they wail, they gnash their teeth. They are tormented in eternal flames. In every member of the body, in every power of the soul--the lost in Hell will suffer. Memory, conscience, and the imagination--will especially increase their agonies! And hopeless despair will render their doom indescribably dreadful!
What do they suffer in Hell? Tell! O tell me--what God can justly inflict, what an immortal man can bear, what the threatenings of the violated law require, and how devils can add to the torments of lost souls--and I will tell you what they may suffer in Hell!
But, O! may you never know in your own experience what lost souls have to endure, and endure forever! Could we but lift the veil that conceals that awful place from our view, and see but for five minutes the agonies of those in Hell--we would never forget the sight! Our flesh would tremble, our hair would stand up on our heads, and our souls would be paralyzed with horror!
HELL! Who will yet go to Hell? Who? Perhaps the reader of these lines! Who? ah, perhaps many of whom we have now no suspicion! Will any of our children go there? Will any of our brothers or sisters go there? Will any of the members of the church go there? Will any of this congregation go there?
Who will go there? All liars shall have their part in the lake that burns with brimstone and fire. All swearers, all drunkards--will find a place set apart in Hell for them. All immoral people; all covetous and dishonest people--all will find a place in Hell prepared for them.
Who will go to Hell? All who live and die impenitent; "for unless you repent--you shall all likewise perish!" All unbelievers; for "he who believes not, shall be damned!" All who are in their natural state; for "unless a man is born again--he cannot enter into the kingdom of God."
Without faith in Christ, and repentance toward God; without love to God and man, the proof and evidence of the new birth; without union to Christ, and the possession of the Spirit of Christ--there is no escaping the wrath to come--the person must go to Hell! O solemn consideration! Let a man therefore examine himself, whether he is in the faith; let each man and woman prove their own selves, and see if Christ is in them.
HELL! How may we escape it? Only by fleeing to Jesus, by believing in Jesus, and receiving the Spirit of Jesus. No one can save us but Jesus, for there is no other name under Heaven given among men, whereby we can be saved. Jesus has done all that is necessary to save souls from Hell, and he is ready to put on our account--what he has done to us; whenever we go to him, plead with him, trust in him, and commit our souls to him. We need not go to Hell, for Jesus is both able and willing to save us; and yet we must go to Hell, unless we apply to him, to be saved by him.
As therefore Hell is so dreadful; as the punishments of Hell are eternal; as once lost, we are lost irrecoverably--as no one can save us but Jesus--and as Jesus will only save those who make personal application to him--let us at once, with all our hearts and souls, apply to Christ! "Behold! now is the accepted time. Behold! now is the day of salvation." Let us then "Seek the Lord while he may be found; call on him while he is near. Let the wicked forsake his way and the evil man his thoughts. Let him turn to the Lord, and he will have mercy on him, and to our God, for he will freely pardon!" Isaiah 55:6-7
HEAVEN!
HEAVEN!
(James Smith, "HEAVEN!" 1858)
"You have made known to me the path of life; You will fill me with joy in Your presence, with eternal pleasures at Your right hand!" Psalm 16:11
HEAVEN! What is it?
It is . . .
God's residence,
the Savior's home,
our Father's house,
a paradise of pleasure,
a temple of worship, and
the residence of perfect purity and peace!
There . . .
God unveils His glory,
the Savior exhibits His charms,
the angels perform their service, and
the saints are entirely happy with their God.
In Heaven . . .
sin is banished,
holiness is perfected,
life is a continual feast, and
mortality is swallowed up in life!
From Heaven . . .
all pain is banished,
all enemies are excluded, and
all causes of sorrow are shut out!
In Heaven . . .
all our prayers are answered,
all our desires are gratified, and
all our needs are supplied.
There is no weeping, wailing, or wishing there.
In Heaven . . .
our knowledge will be perfect,
our happiness will be abiding,
our pleasures will be ever new.
In Heaven we shall . . .
see Jesus,
be with Jesus, and
be like Jesus, forever!
HEAVEN! Who are there?
All tried and tempted followers of Jesus are there.
All doubting and fearing disciples of Jesus are there.
All poor and despised believers are there.
Multitudes, who felt totally unworthy of such glory, and feared they would never reach the place--are there.
All who were chosen by the Father,
all who were redeemed by the Son, and
all who were sanctified by the Holy Spirit--are there.
HEAVEN! What do they enjoy there? Who can answer this question--but one who has been there; and he would need a new language to state, and new figures to represent the enjoyments of Heaven. They enjoy rest from their pains--and a full supply of all their needs. They enjoy perfect satisfaction, a fullness of joy, and pleasure forevermore. They see all that they believed, realize all that they hoped for, and possess all that they loved. They have . . .
health--without sickness;
pleasure--without pain;
and holiness--without sin.
Every sense is gratified, every power is pleasurably employed--and they are perfectly and perpetually happy!
O Heaven, in you there is . . .
no tempting devil,
no ensnaring world,
no indwelling corruption;
no doubts, fears, or misgivings!
And best of all, there is no sin!
O Heaven, in you I shall see my God, possess my Savior, and enjoy the fullness of the Holy Spirit! O my God, in Heaven I shall be satisfied--for I shall be with You, serving and enjoying You without weariness or cessation!
HEAVEN! Who will yet get to Heaven? Who? Ah, perhaps many we little think of! We shall miss many whom we expected to find there--and find many whom we never expected would reach that glorious place!
Who will go to Heaven? That poor man who is striving against sin, mourning over corruption, and loathing himself before God. That poor woman, who sighs because she sins, pants for perfect holiness, and clings to the cross of Jesus. Do you see that poor soul on his knees, confessing his transgressions, pleading for pardon, and seeking grace to sanctify his nature--he will go to Heaven. Do you see that lowly Christian, who is visiting the sick, pointing sufferers to the cross, and trying to alleviate human woe, out of love to Jesus--he will go to Heaven. Do you see that Sunday School teacher, who, after a hard week's work, is regularly in his class, speaking loving words, in tender tones, to win the little ones for the Savior--he will go to Heaven. Do you see that preacher who exalts Christ in his ministry, honors the gospel in his life, and travails in birth for souls--he will go to Heaven.
Heaven will be peopled by all who believe in Jesus, love the brethren, and worship God in Spirit and in truth. There will be a numberless multitude there, all deeply indebted to free mercy, washed in the Savior's blood, and sanctified by the Spirit's grace!
Reader, there is a way--but only one way to Heaven! Only those found in that way will ever reach it! You yourself, may be within an hour or two of either Heaven or Hell--do you know which? If called away suddenly--to which would you go? You have a Heaven to obtain, or a Hell to endure--to all eternity! Which shall it be? O that you were wise, that you properly realized this, that you would consider your latter end!
Heaven with all its glories--or Hell with all its horrors--must be your eternal portion! If you despise the Savior, make light of the Gospel, and neglect God's great salvation--then Hell, an eternal Hell, with all its unspeakable horrors--is your portion!
"No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined--what God has prepared for those who love Him!" 1 Corinthians 2:9
(James Smith, "HEAVEN!" 1858)
"You have made known to me the path of life; You will fill me with joy in Your presence, with eternal pleasures at Your right hand!" Psalm 16:11
HEAVEN! What is it?
It is . . .
God's residence,
the Savior's home,
our Father's house,
a paradise of pleasure,
a temple of worship, and
the residence of perfect purity and peace!
There . . .
God unveils His glory,
the Savior exhibits His charms,
the angels perform their service, and
the saints are entirely happy with their God.
In Heaven . . .
sin is banished,
holiness is perfected,
life is a continual feast, and
mortality is swallowed up in life!
From Heaven . . .
all pain is banished,
all enemies are excluded, and
all causes of sorrow are shut out!
In Heaven . . .
all our prayers are answered,
all our desires are gratified, and
all our needs are supplied.
There is no weeping, wailing, or wishing there.
In Heaven . . .
our knowledge will be perfect,
our happiness will be abiding,
our pleasures will be ever new.
In Heaven we shall . . .
see Jesus,
be with Jesus, and
be like Jesus, forever!
HEAVEN! Who are there?
All tried and tempted followers of Jesus are there.
All doubting and fearing disciples of Jesus are there.
All poor and despised believers are there.
Multitudes, who felt totally unworthy of such glory, and feared they would never reach the place--are there.
All who were chosen by the Father,
all who were redeemed by the Son, and
all who were sanctified by the Holy Spirit--are there.
HEAVEN! What do they enjoy there? Who can answer this question--but one who has been there; and he would need a new language to state, and new figures to represent the enjoyments of Heaven. They enjoy rest from their pains--and a full supply of all their needs. They enjoy perfect satisfaction, a fullness of joy, and pleasure forevermore. They see all that they believed, realize all that they hoped for, and possess all that they loved. They have . . .
health--without sickness;
pleasure--without pain;
and holiness--without sin.
Every sense is gratified, every power is pleasurably employed--and they are perfectly and perpetually happy!
O Heaven, in you there is . . .
no tempting devil,
no ensnaring world,
no indwelling corruption;
no doubts, fears, or misgivings!
And best of all, there is no sin!
O Heaven, in you I shall see my God, possess my Savior, and enjoy the fullness of the Holy Spirit! O my God, in Heaven I shall be satisfied--for I shall be with You, serving and enjoying You without weariness or cessation!
HEAVEN! Who will yet get to Heaven? Who? Ah, perhaps many we little think of! We shall miss many whom we expected to find there--and find many whom we never expected would reach that glorious place!
Who will go to Heaven? That poor man who is striving against sin, mourning over corruption, and loathing himself before God. That poor woman, who sighs because she sins, pants for perfect holiness, and clings to the cross of Jesus. Do you see that poor soul on his knees, confessing his transgressions, pleading for pardon, and seeking grace to sanctify his nature--he will go to Heaven. Do you see that lowly Christian, who is visiting the sick, pointing sufferers to the cross, and trying to alleviate human woe, out of love to Jesus--he will go to Heaven. Do you see that Sunday School teacher, who, after a hard week's work, is regularly in his class, speaking loving words, in tender tones, to win the little ones for the Savior--he will go to Heaven. Do you see that preacher who exalts Christ in his ministry, honors the gospel in his life, and travails in birth for souls--he will go to Heaven.
Heaven will be peopled by all who believe in Jesus, love the brethren, and worship God in Spirit and in truth. There will be a numberless multitude there, all deeply indebted to free mercy, washed in the Savior's blood, and sanctified by the Spirit's grace!
Reader, there is a way--but only one way to Heaven! Only those found in that way will ever reach it! You yourself, may be within an hour or two of either Heaven or Hell--do you know which? If called away suddenly--to which would you go? You have a Heaven to obtain, or a Hell to endure--to all eternity! Which shall it be? O that you were wise, that you properly realized this, that you would consider your latter end!
Heaven with all its glories--or Hell with all its horrors--must be your eternal portion! If you despise the Savior, make light of the Gospel, and neglect God's great salvation--then Hell, an eternal Hell, with all its unspeakable horrors--is your portion!
"No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined--what God has prepared for those who love Him!" 1 Corinthians 2:9
A Review
A Review
James Smith, 1858
It is sometimes profitable to look back, and see what we were, and what we were likely to be — if the Lord had left us alone. Nor is it less profitable at times to look around and within, and dwell awhile upon what the Lord has done for us. It is also very pleasant to look forward, and anticipate what we shall be, when the Lord has fulfilled in us all the good pleasure of his goodness, and crowned his work of grace with glory. Let this then be our employment for a few minutes, and may the Holy Spirit make our meditations beneficial. We will ask three questions:
First, What WAS I by NATURE? This is a dark and dreary subject, for I was in a sad state, and had acquired a sad character.
My heart was fearfully depraved — my nature was totally fallen.
All within was spiritually dead — and all without was unholy.
The creature was loved and served — and the Creator was neglected and despised.
Sin was my element.
Satan was my master.
The world was my heaven.
I had no good desires — no holy aspirations — no redeeming qualities.
I was a rebel against God's government — and a traitor against God's crown!
I would have destroyed God if I could — and have blotted His name out of creation! The language of my heart and life was, "No God for me!" My heart was filled and fired with enmity against Him, and at times I could have cursed Him to His face!
I hated His law.
I despised His gospel.
I abhorred His people.
If I could — I would have crushed His cause!
How astonishing that such a wretch was allowed to live!
How astonishing that God had not crushed me by His power, and sentenced me to Hell!
But, O the longsuffering, the patience, and the sovereign grace of God! He bore with me. He loaded me with his benefits. He determined to win me with His love. Nevertheless I sinned yet the more, and provoked Him with my ungodly conduct. O how surprising that I am not in Hell! Surely there are many already in Hell — who were never such great sinners as I have been!
But, the Lord is good, ready to forgive, and plenteous in mercy unto all those who call upon Him. He put a cry into my heart, He listened to that cry, and made me a new creature in Christ Jesus. He unveiled my enormous wickedness before the eyes of my mind, which filled me with confusion, despondency, and shame. He laid me in the dust, and seemed to doom me to despair. He . . .
crushed my proud spirit,
destroyed my infernal enmity against Him,
and melted me into contrition with His love.
He pardoned all my aggravated transgressions.
He spoke peace to my soul.
He filled me with joy and gladness.
He fired me with a desire to honor and glorify Him, and then bade me go and "Tell to sinners round — what a dear Savior I had found!"
What AM I by GRACE? For all I now am — I once was not. Everything which is in any sense good in me — must be ascribed to the free grace of God. Yes, with the holy Apostle I must say, "By the grace of God, I am what I am!" By grace — I am a new creature, created anew in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God has before ordained, that I should walk in them. By grace — I am pardoned, justified, and accepted of God. By grace — I am united to Christ's person, and constituted a joint heir with him. By grace — I am God's child, the Holy Spirit's temple, and a part of the Savior's purchase.
Grace called me, and grace made me willing to obey the call. Grace washed away my sins in the blood of the Lamb, and washed my person in the laver of the Word. All that has been wrought within me, all that has been conferred upon me, and all the good that has been done by me — must be traced to the free and invincible grace of God! Who can tell what I would have been by this time — but for the grace of God? Who can say where I would have been this morning — but for the grace of God? Most probably, I would have been in Hell — where the worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched! O what a debtor to grace I am! If anyone ought to speak well of grace — I am the man. If anyone should magnify sovereign grace — surely I should. For to God's sovereign grace — I owe everything!
I am not now — what I once was. Why? Because God had a purpose of grace toward me.
I am not now — what I soon shall be. Why? Because grace is always crowned with glory!
Thirdly, What SHALL I be in GLORY? Perhaps the less I say on this point the better — for who can tell what the redeemed shall be? But this we do know, that when Jesus comes — we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is! However, this is clear, that in glory I shall be free from sin, from care, and from pain. I shall be free from the conflict within, the doubts and the fears that so often distress me; and the assaults of Satan that disturb my peace, and hinder me in my way. In glory, there is no darkness or gloom, no depression or sadness, no sorrow or distress, no wants or wishing, no weariness or woe, no complaints or groaning. And there, I shall see God, and enjoy him! I shall be like Christ, and be with him; and glorify and honor my Triune God forever.
Glory! What is glory? We must die to know! And blessed be God, when we die — we shall know. Absent from the body — we shall be present with the Lord. Departing from these scenes of sorrow and sadness — we shall be with Christ, which is far better. In glory, our knowledge will he perfect, our education will be completed, our joy will be full.
"Then shall we see, and hear, and know,
All we desired, and wished below;
And flesh and sin no more control,
The sacred pleasures of the soul."
How different I now am — to what I once was!
And how different I shall be in Heaven — to what I now am! What a change has already been effected — but what a change yet awaits me!
I am no more God's enemy — but his friend! I am no longer alienated from God — but his beloved child! But what — O what shall I soon be? "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him!" 1 Corinthians 2:9
Reader, have you been able to follow me in these remarks? Are you still in the state nature — or are you a new creature by grace? Are you what you always were — or have you passed from death unto life? If you are not in grace — you are still in nature; and if in nature, you are God's enemy. If you are not in grace on earth — you can never be in glory in Heaven. Be sure then, that you are delivered from the power of darkness, and be translated into the kingdom of God's dear Son!
James Smith, 1858
It is sometimes profitable to look back, and see what we were, and what we were likely to be — if the Lord had left us alone. Nor is it less profitable at times to look around and within, and dwell awhile upon what the Lord has done for us. It is also very pleasant to look forward, and anticipate what we shall be, when the Lord has fulfilled in us all the good pleasure of his goodness, and crowned his work of grace with glory. Let this then be our employment for a few minutes, and may the Holy Spirit make our meditations beneficial. We will ask three questions:
First, What WAS I by NATURE? This is a dark and dreary subject, for I was in a sad state, and had acquired a sad character.
My heart was fearfully depraved — my nature was totally fallen.
All within was spiritually dead — and all without was unholy.
The creature was loved and served — and the Creator was neglected and despised.
Sin was my element.
Satan was my master.
The world was my heaven.
I had no good desires — no holy aspirations — no redeeming qualities.
I was a rebel against God's government — and a traitor against God's crown!
I would have destroyed God if I could — and have blotted His name out of creation! The language of my heart and life was, "No God for me!" My heart was filled and fired with enmity against Him, and at times I could have cursed Him to His face!
I hated His law.
I despised His gospel.
I abhorred His people.
If I could — I would have crushed His cause!
How astonishing that such a wretch was allowed to live!
How astonishing that God had not crushed me by His power, and sentenced me to Hell!
But, O the longsuffering, the patience, and the sovereign grace of God! He bore with me. He loaded me with his benefits. He determined to win me with His love. Nevertheless I sinned yet the more, and provoked Him with my ungodly conduct. O how surprising that I am not in Hell! Surely there are many already in Hell — who were never such great sinners as I have been!
But, the Lord is good, ready to forgive, and plenteous in mercy unto all those who call upon Him. He put a cry into my heart, He listened to that cry, and made me a new creature in Christ Jesus. He unveiled my enormous wickedness before the eyes of my mind, which filled me with confusion, despondency, and shame. He laid me in the dust, and seemed to doom me to despair. He . . .
crushed my proud spirit,
destroyed my infernal enmity against Him,
and melted me into contrition with His love.
He pardoned all my aggravated transgressions.
He spoke peace to my soul.
He filled me with joy and gladness.
He fired me with a desire to honor and glorify Him, and then bade me go and "Tell to sinners round — what a dear Savior I had found!"
What AM I by GRACE? For all I now am — I once was not. Everything which is in any sense good in me — must be ascribed to the free grace of God. Yes, with the holy Apostle I must say, "By the grace of God, I am what I am!" By grace — I am a new creature, created anew in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God has before ordained, that I should walk in them. By grace — I am pardoned, justified, and accepted of God. By grace — I am united to Christ's person, and constituted a joint heir with him. By grace — I am God's child, the Holy Spirit's temple, and a part of the Savior's purchase.
Grace called me, and grace made me willing to obey the call. Grace washed away my sins in the blood of the Lamb, and washed my person in the laver of the Word. All that has been wrought within me, all that has been conferred upon me, and all the good that has been done by me — must be traced to the free and invincible grace of God! Who can tell what I would have been by this time — but for the grace of God? Who can say where I would have been this morning — but for the grace of God? Most probably, I would have been in Hell — where the worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched! O what a debtor to grace I am! If anyone ought to speak well of grace — I am the man. If anyone should magnify sovereign grace — surely I should. For to God's sovereign grace — I owe everything!
I am not now — what I once was. Why? Because God had a purpose of grace toward me.
I am not now — what I soon shall be. Why? Because grace is always crowned with glory!
Thirdly, What SHALL I be in GLORY? Perhaps the less I say on this point the better — for who can tell what the redeemed shall be? But this we do know, that when Jesus comes — we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is! However, this is clear, that in glory I shall be free from sin, from care, and from pain. I shall be free from the conflict within, the doubts and the fears that so often distress me; and the assaults of Satan that disturb my peace, and hinder me in my way. In glory, there is no darkness or gloom, no depression or sadness, no sorrow or distress, no wants or wishing, no weariness or woe, no complaints or groaning. And there, I shall see God, and enjoy him! I shall be like Christ, and be with him; and glorify and honor my Triune God forever.
Glory! What is glory? We must die to know! And blessed be God, when we die — we shall know. Absent from the body — we shall be present with the Lord. Departing from these scenes of sorrow and sadness — we shall be with Christ, which is far better. In glory, our knowledge will he perfect, our education will be completed, our joy will be full.
"Then shall we see, and hear, and know,
All we desired, and wished below;
And flesh and sin no more control,
The sacred pleasures of the soul."
How different I now am — to what I once was!
And how different I shall be in Heaven — to what I now am! What a change has already been effected — but what a change yet awaits me!
I am no more God's enemy — but his friend! I am no longer alienated from God — but his beloved child! But what — O what shall I soon be? "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him!" 1 Corinthians 2:9
Reader, have you been able to follow me in these remarks? Are you still in the state nature — or are you a new creature by grace? Are you what you always were — or have you passed from death unto life? If you are not in grace — you are still in nature; and if in nature, you are God's enemy. If you are not in grace on earth — you can never be in glory in Heaven. Be sure then, that you are delivered from the power of darkness, and be translated into the kingdom of God's dear Son!
Thursday, November 18, 2010
"IT IS I", or "The Voice of Jesus in the Storm"
"IT IS I", or
"The Voice of Jesus in the Storm"
by Newman Hall
(Matthew 14:22-33; Mark 6:45-50; John 6:15-21)
Is it stormy weather with you? Do cares, disappointments, bereavements, as a heavy cloud, deluge you with sorrow? Do spiritual troubles assail you as a hurricane, and drive here and there your harassed soul? Do the winds and the waves beat upon your frail bark, so that it seems about to sink? "O afflicted one, tossed with tempest, and not comforted," listen to the voice of Jesus, who comes to you in the storm, walking upon the waters, and says, "It is I; do not be afraid!"
The design of religion is to make us joyful. This world is indeed a valley of tears, but the Man of sorrows has visited it that we may rejoice. We are surrounded by causes of alarm, but the gospel bids us fear not. And that which alone can enable us to be joyful amid sorrows, and of good courage amid perils, is the presence of our God and Savior. To believe in Him as always near, always kind, always mighty to save, is the true and sole antidote to fear and grief. It is only in proportion as we recognize His voice, as that of a friend, saying, "It is I," that we can comply with his exhortation, "Be of good cheer; do not be afraid."
The disciples were once in a storm on the Sea of Galilee. Their Master had been miraculously feeding five thousand people, with five loaves and two fishes. The people were so astonished at His power, that they resolved to make Him their King. But as He had come not to reign, but to suffer, He urged them to return quietly to their homes, and He Himself retired to a mountain to pray. Meanwhile, Jesus "constrained His disciples to get into a ship, and to go before Him unto the other side" of the lake. It is most likely that they did not understand the reason of this request. It seemed strange to them. Why should He be left to disperse the multitude alone? Why should they be deprived of His company? If He wished retirement, why could they not wait on the shore until He came from the mountain? How could He follow them, if they went away with the ship? But they were commanded, and this was sufficient.
Even so, Christians still have to do and to suffer many things, the reason of which is hidden from them. But an obedient disciple will not say, "Why has this been appointed me to do? Why has that been given me to suffer?—for until I comprehend the reason I will not obey the command." Oh, no! His language will rather be, "Lord, what will you have me to do?" If the head of a family, the commander of a ship, the general of an army, often gives orders which, though not explained, are promptly obeyed, shall we presume to sit questioning the will of Jesus, instead of making haste and delaying not to keep His commandments? May we not expect to hear Him reprovingly say to us, "What is that to you? Follow Me!"
But the Christian’s duty not only sometimes baffles his reason, but also opposes his preferences. How much more willingly would the disciples have remained in the company of their beloved Master! How much they perhaps fancied they were losing, while, deprived of His company, they were in the ship alone! So, in obedience to duty, the Christian may still seem to be a loser, not only in temporal, but even in spiritual respects. His opportunities of religious advancement may appear to be curtailed by a course which, otherwise, he would not hesitate to pronounce his duty to his Savior. It is his duty still. Apparent consequences do not diminish the obligation of an obvious command. And he who most scrupulously adheres to the path of obedience will most successfully travel in the path of improvement too. Duty is identical with privilege. However delightful and profitable the company of Jesus must have been, the disciples gained far more by being obediently absent, than rebelliously near. Obedience is the best kind of nearness.
The evening on which the disciples embarked was calm and fair. The day had not been stormy—else the five thousand could not so comfortably have sat upon the grass at that miraculous feast. It was after the disciples had left the shore that "the sea arose by reason of a great wind that blew." They therefore must have anticipated a safe and pleasant voyage. Thus how often do storms visit believers, when only calm weather is expected! The brightest beginnings are not sure harbingers of continued prosperity! The morning sun may be undimmed, but black thunderclouds may conceal his rays at noon. The finest day may be followed by the stormiest night, and the ocean, now without a ripple, may before long writhe beneath the lashings of the tempest. Our dearest treasures may suddenly be taken from us, and our fairest hopes are withered in the bud. Sunshine and calm are treacherous—they cannot always last. Do not sailors expect to encounter gales and tempests, and therefore provide themselves with anchors and all other things that may be of use in such emergencies? How foolish are they who voyage on the perilous ocean of life without the Christian’s hope "as an anchor of the soul, sure and steadfast!" We should be prepared for storms, that we may not be overwhelmed with surprise and terror when they come. But if Jesus is with us, the most terrific tempest cannot harm us. The profoundest calm is infinitely perilous without Him.
Behold the frightened disciples in their storm-driven boat! They have to struggle with difficulties. The favorable breeze with which they weighed anchor has changed to an opposing gale. They have taken down their sail as no longer of any use, and they are now tugging at the oars! "They toiled in rowing, for the wind was contrary unto them." Moreover, the night "was now dark!" They were in danger too, for their little vessel was "in the midst of the sea, tossed with waves." Worse than all, they were alone, for "Jesus had not come unto them."
This is a fit representation of the circumstances by which believers are still often tried. What contrary winds and tides have they to contend with! What darkness surrounds them! What perils threaten them! And sometimes, even Jesus seems withdrawn! The stormy gales of trouble blow from various quarters. Bitter disappointments, grievous losses, perplexing cares, anxious apprehensions, pinching poverty, the injuries of foes and, far worse, the slights of friends. Painful diseases, suspension of beloved activities, prostrated strength, debilitated faculties, weary wakefulness, gnawing pain. Heartbreaking bereavements, tearing from us those with whom our very life was bound together, leaving a blank which nothing earthly can fill. A wounded spirit, bending beneath the burden of anguish, or severe conflicts with the great adversary of souls, harassing temptations, distorted views of truth, awful terrors of mind, gloomy doubts, dark despondency. Oh!, what black clouds do such stormy winds as these often cause to gather round the believer, so that scarcely a ray of light can struggle through to cheer him as he is tossed up and down amid the billows!
Was this to be expected? Am I not a disciple, under the special protection of Jesus? Has He not promised to defend me from all harm? Has He not told me that His angels have charge over me, and that no evil thing shall happen unto me? If He were my Protector, my Savior, my Friend, could such troubles as these assail me? These thoughts may have assailed the disciples. Though Jesus was then bodily on the earth, yet they did not escape the storm. But Jesus was not unfaithful or forgetful. Do not be then, O reader, surprised if sometimes you also are "in the midst of the sea, tossed with waves." Who expects the ocean to be always calm? Discipleship is distinguished rather by exposure to troubles than exemption from them. "We must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom." Christ has promised to deliver us out of the storm, but not to secure us from encountering it. "There has no temptation taken you but such as is common to men; but God is faithful, who" (not will preserve you from trial, but) "will not allow you to be tempted above that you able, but will with the temptation also make a way of escape that you may be able" (not to avoid it, but) "to bear it." "The same afflictions have been accomplished in the brotherhood" of faith in all ages. The saints in glory all toiled in rowing amid similar billows. Though never shipwrecked, they were all tempest-tossed. The elder Brother himself did not escape! He was made like to His brethren—in all points tempted as we are! "Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you" (I Cor. 10:13; 1 Peter 4:12, 5:9).
These storms may often rise against us, even when acting in direct obedience to the will of Christ. The disciples had not set sail without His express command. Yet the tempest assailed them. Jesus knew that the wind would arise. He Himself permitted it to blow. Nevertheless, He told the disciples to go over to the other side! We should learn never to interpret duty by success. The opposition, which assails us in the course of obedience, is no evidence that we are mistaken. He who gives laws to His servants is the controller of all events. It may be His will that in the very act of obedience we should encounter storms. He foreknew every trial we should meet with when He laid down the route we should pursue. We must not dare to turn back. The disciples, when the wind became contrary, might have wished to return to shore, especially as Jesus was there. But they had been commanded to go to the other side; and so they continued rowing, even though they made little or no progress. They were not responsible for the contrary wind that stopped them, but they were responsible for striving to obey the will of their Master. Even so, no difficulty must daunt us in the way of obedience. Let the prow of our vessel be ever turned toward the point of duty, however terrible the gale, however mighty the waves which beat against it. Though they may seem to force us back, yet, if we persevere in obediently struggling against them, we are really making rapid progress. Christ secures deliverance and success to every faithful disciple. Better, infinitely better, to suffer the loss of all things in obeying Jesus, than to purchase the universe by retreating from the storm. Better to perish in the tempest than to seek safety in a disobedient flight. "For whoever will save his life shall lose it; but whoever will lose his life, for My sake, shall find it."
But while the disciples are battling with the winds and the waves, where is Jesus? In the mountain, alone with His Father, spending the night in prayer. Are His afflicted followers forgotten? When were they ever absent from His considerate thoughts, His loving heart? Doubtless He is interceding for them. He intercedes for you, afflicted, tempest-tossed reader! Most consoling truth. "He ever lives to make intercession for us!" By night and by day, in the tempest and the calm, His all-prevalent prayer arises, "Father, keep them from the evil!" You are never forgotten by Him. The hands of Moses grew weary as he was praying for the Israelites, and when they drooped, Amalek prevailed. But a mightier than Moses is here, who never is weary, and whom the Father hears always. He bears your name upon His heart; you are engraved on the palms of His hands; in every storm He is on the mount, and His intercession renders your deliverance certain. Do not think that because the wind is boisterous, and the storm continues long, He intercedes in vain. Your not sinking proves that His advocacy prevails. Expect a calm, and you may be disappointed. But charge not His mediation with inefficacy. Expect supporting grace, and final deliverance, and your hope shall never make you ashamed. He prays not that our day may never be stormy; but, in answer to His intercession, we may always be confident that "as our day so shall our strength be."
Jesus not only prayed for His disciples, but also watched them in the tempest. They could not see Him. They might think themselves beyond His sight; for they had rowed a distance of some three miles. And as we are told, the night was dark, their small vessel could not be seen from the shore. Yet the eye of Jesus was on it! He saw every wave that broke over it. He beheld the poor disciples in dismay, laboring unavailingly at the oars. He understood all that was in their hearts. "He saw them toiling in rowing." And does He not see you also, storm-driven reader? Do not think your case is unknown to Him. Every secret anxiety, every heart-buried grief, is watched from His throne on high! He knows all your difficulties, sorrows, and temptations. You shall not perish by any oversight of His. When He sees that the fitting season has arrived, He will appear for your deliverance!
This manifest deliverance may be delayed. It was not until the fourth watch in the night that the disciples beheld their Savior. How long those hours appeared! Until three o’clock in the morning they toiled in rowing against the furious winds and waves. Perhaps they unbelievingly thought they were quite forgotten by their Master, and abandoned to the raging storm. And still it often happens to afflicted believers, that Jesus seems to delay His promised help. It is delay in appearance only. Was He not assisting His disciples most effectually while watching them from the shore, and interceding on their behalf? Were they not preserved from destruction, though as yet they had not seen their deliverer? Were they not saved in the storm, though not from it?
Thus Jesus is ever present to protect us, even though we may not see Him. Troubles may appear overwhelmingly great, and spiritual darkness benight our souls, without one ray of comfort to dart across the gloom. And this may continue days, months, years! Jesus may delay to reveal Himself, but not to support and help His disciples. And for that very delay, He has the kindest, wisest reasons. Oh, to say from the heart, "My times are in Your hand!" To believe them to be in the best hand! To wish them in no other! And therefore not to murmur or be dismayed, even though until the fourth watch in the night, we are allowed to continue "toiling in rowing, the wind being contrary." His time is the best time. The hour of deliverance will certainly arrive. "For the vision is yet for an appointed time; but at the end it shall speak, and not lie: though it tarries, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry."
When at length Jesus did appear to His storm-tossed disciples, the manner of His coming was so unexpected and strange that, instead of joy, their first emotion was terror. He approached them walking on the waves! Who would have expected Him thus? It was a phenomenon never witnessed before. Notwithstanding former displays of His power, the disciples doubtless regarded the intervening sea an impassable barrier between them and their divine Master. This was the last manner in which they would expect to behold Him. And when He did come, making the very waters, which they thought must keep Him absent, the path by which He approached, their terror was such that they did not recognize their Deliverer, but fancied that they saw a ghost.
Ah! how often do we limit the Holy One of Israel! We too often think of Him as like ourselves in His resources! We regard as an impossibility that which presents to Him no difficulty. We despair of help from the very quarters where, perhaps, He is that moment advancing to our deliverance! We presume to prescribe to the Almighty. Instead of praying for His aid, and leaving to His loving wisdom the manner of it, we too often determine in our own minds the method by which the hoped-for assistance will be given. Disappointed in our expectation, we perhaps murmur that our prayers have been disregarded, though at the very time we are receiving in some other way the aid we sought. Is not strength to bear a burden as much an answer to prayer as its removal? Is not grace to persevere in supplication, amid surrounding gloom, as much a proof of our Savior’s faithfulness as if the sunshine dispersed the darkness? May not a still deeper sense of our vileness and helplessness be an answer to prayer for spiritual growth, still more valuable at some seasons than even the joy and peace we coveted? Though the enemy may not have left us, yet is it no mercy to be enabled to maintain the conflict, and "having done all, to stand"? And though the storm may continue to rage, and the calm is long delayed, yet is it not a proof that Jesus is with us, so long as the waves are not allowed to overwhelm us?
Like the disciples, who "cried out for fear, saying, It is a spirit," we often mistake the form and presence of our Lord! We look with apprehension on what should disperse our fear. Our best blessings, and the answers to our most earnest prayers, cause us alarm and grief. What shortsighted, blind and ignorant creatures we are! How we mistake the intentions of our dearest Friend! How often we tremble, when we should be of good courage! How often we mourn and complain, when we should abound in thanksgiving! Oh, help us, gracious Savior, to leave with You the manner of Your appearing! However strange, however terrible the outward shape, may we recognize the presence of our ever-faithful Friend! Nothing is impossible with You! Still You often walk upon the waters. What we most dread as distressing and ruinous, You may select as the best method of effecting our deliverance! Though the tempest is high, and though the night is dark, yet let us adoringly recognize and hail You, walking to us on the boisterous waves!
The terror of the disciples was speedily allayed by the encouraging voice of Jesus, "It is I; do not be afraid! It is no ghost, no avenging angel, none of the powers of darkness; it is I—your Master, your Protector, your Friend: fear not!" What consolation this must have afforded to that affrighted crew! There is nothing that can so allay the grief of afflicted believers as hearing Jesus say, "It is I." In every calamity, in every grief, He is present. We are never alone. Our best Friend is always near. And He is not only with us in the storm, but He sends and controls it! We are too apt to attribute our troubles to secondary causes alone, losing sight of Him without whom not even a sparrow falls to the ground. Men say, "This was an accident," or "That was owing to the operation of general laws," or "An enemy has done this." Jesus says, "It is I!" Whatever may be the truth, respecting human agency and natural laws, there is a Supreme Controller, without whose permission and direction no event transpires. Though man’s free agency is not invaded, nor the ordinary course of nature impeded, most absolutely true is the Savior’s own declaration, "My Father works hitherto, and I work." In every event, important or trivial in the estimation of man, he speaks and says "It is I!" In poverty, "It is I!" In sickness, "It is I!" In anxiety, "It is I!" In bereavement, "It is I!" Whatever be the nature of the storm, from whatever quarter the hurricane may blow, still Jesus says, "It is I!" Not merely when the waters are smooth, reflecting every shadow on their mirrored surface, while an unclouded sun diffuses light and gladness all around, but when the dark clouds gather, and the night is black, and the tempest howls, and the thunder rattles, and the waters rage, and hideous gulfs yawn as if to swallow up the despairing disciple—"When tempests shriek through all the cleaving sky, And the mad billows writhe in their huge agony"—even then amid the gloom, may Jesus be seen by the eye of faith, walking in majesty upon the waves and, amid the elemental din, His "still small voice" of mingled dignity and love may be heard saying, "It is I; do not be afraid."
Oh, to recognize Christ more vividly in all our troubles!—to lose sight of human agency in the absorbing contemplation of Jesus! Regrets and murmurs will never end, if we look only or chiefly at secondary causes. "If I had not done this—if I had been more prudent in that—if such a one had not been so unfaithful and unkind"—oh, how endless may such false reasoning become! What discontent they will occasion! How difficult will it be to feel resigned, when we blame others or ourselves as the sole causes of our troubles!
Let me look away from inferior agencies. Jesus sends the storm! Did He ordain this affliction, and shall I not be submissive to His authority? If He sent this poverty, ought I not to welcome it? If He ordered this disappointment, should I regret it? If He has commissioned this sickness—shall I not patiently endure it? If He has allowed enmity to assail me, shall not hatred to my enemy be forgotten in submission to my Friend? If He has bereaved me, and earth appears a blank in the absence of those so dear, though I cannot but mourn, shall I murmur? If He mixes the embittered cup, shall I not drink it? May I not be sure that it is wisely and kindly mingled and, though it may be bitter, that life and health must result from the draught?
Not beholding God in the storm, or entertaining false conceptions of Him, is a prolific source of fear. Some other form is seen in the tempest, which inspires alarm. Men are afraid of fate, or chance, and behold phantoms of evil all around. An assassin lies in ambush at every turn. Each cloud that gathers conceals an enemy, and the muttering of the tempest, is the voice of a foe. Thus, superstition is full of fears, in proportion as it fails to recognize the one sole object of religious reverence. How great a truth is there in the saying of Solomon, "In the fear of the Lord is strong confidence, and his children shall have a place of refuge!" Fear and courage are allied. If we rightly fear the true God, we need fear none besides. What can harm us, if He is our Protector? Whose enmity need we dread, if He is our Friend? Why should the storm distress or frighten us, if Jesus is there to shield us from injury, and even to make the fury of the winds and waves conducive to our good? We cannot escape from the storms of life; but those storms lose their power, not only to injure, but also to alarm, when we hear the voice of Jesus saying, "It is I; do not be afraid!"
As the only reason why the disciples should not fear, Jesus simply said "It is I!" As if this was quite sufficient to banish alarm. It was unnecessary to assure them of their safety; or what He would do to effect it. It was enough to let them know that it was He! His presence was a sufficient guaranty for deliverance. And does not this assurance, "It is I," involve everything needed to calm the fears and soothe the sorrows of afflicted believers still?
It was the voice of POWER —He spoke of whom it is recorded that "all things were made by Him!"—who said, "All power is given unto Me in heaven and in earth"—whom the elements of nature reverently obeyed, and who at that moment was manifesting His supremacy, by suspending His own laws, while He walked upon the sea. It was the voice of one who obviously was able to do everything that was necessary for the safety of the disciples. The storm might be furious, but He could control it! The waves might be boisterous, but He who marched upon their foaming crests could curb their violence. He could, by a word, either still the tempest or preserve His disciples in the midst of it. And it is the same voice of Omnipotence, which still speaks amid the storm. He who made, can control.
It is as true in reference to troubles of every kind as it is of the elements of nature—that "fire and hail, snow and vapors, stormy wind, fulfill His word. He has established them forever: He has made a decree that shall not pass. The sea is His, and He made it. He set for it bars and doors, and said, Hitherto shall you come, and no further; and here shall your proud waves be stayed." And surely He who "commands and raises the stormy wind, which lifts up the waves thereof," is equally able to "make the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still." Afflicted disciple, be of good cheer! He who speaks to you in the tempest produced it, and can control it. The Friend who bids you, fear not, is the God by whom all things were made. He who appears for your support has but to speak, and it is done—to command, and it stands fast. His word is as mighty when it speaks for the comfort of His afflicted people as when it said, "Let there be light, and there was light." Is anything too hard for the Lord?
His very word of grace is strong
As that which built the skies;
The voice that rolls the stars along
Speaks all the promises.
But the recognition of this voice as one of power is not alone sufficient to take away our fear. It might increase it. For He who speaks is the God whom I have offended by my sins, and whose power enables Him only the more effectually to secure my punishment. If He can control the storm, He may direct that lightning to scathe me, those waves to engulf me! The acknowledgment merely of the God of nature is not enough to calm the agitated breast. Until I can hope for pardon, the very perfections that render Him glorious render Him dreadful too! That infinite majesty, that unlimited sovereignty, that boundless might, is all arrayed against my sins! I must behold Jehovah as the God of grace, I must see Him in the person of his Son, before my fears can vanish. And it is Jesus, Immanuel, God with us, who says "It is I."
It was also the voice of LOVE. The disciples at once recognized it as such. It was their best Friend who addressed them, whose tenderness had been uniform, who always made allowances for their infirmities, bore with their provocations, and sympathized with their sorrows. They had never witnessed any act of His life that was not marked by love. None who sought His assistance were ever rejected by Him, and to no request did He ever turn a deaf or an indifferent ear. They were therefore perfectly sure that His power would be put forth to help them. The same voice of love speaks in the storm still. He addresses us—of whom it is written, "Like as a father pities his children, so the Lord pities those who fear Him. As one whom his mother comforts, so will I comfort you. Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion upon the son of her womb? Yes, she may forget, yet I will not forget you."
It is the voice of "the Consolation of Israel" who was "anointed to bind up the broken-hearted, and comfort those who mourn," and of a High Priest who "can have compassion." What could more emphatically prove His love than coming to this world of sorrow and sin to suffer and die for us, when we were enemies to God? He left the habitation of glory for the stable of an inn, the homage of angels for the insults of men, the smile of His Father for the temptations of the devil, the raptures of heaven for the groans of Gethsemane, the splendors of the throne for the ignominy of the cross, the brightness of the celestial glory for the darkness of the tomb. And why was this? It was love that prompted the sacrifice. Love to the undeserving, to the rebellious, to those who then crucified, and to those who now pierce Him by their sins!
And love still prompts His intercession at God’s right hand. Having done so much to save us, will He allow us to perish in the storm? "He that spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, will He not with Him also freely give us all things?" Will the love that has already effected so much fail us in any extremity? May we not feel every doubt dispelled, when we recognize it to be Jesus who says, "It is I?" The scepter He grasps is omnipotence, but we need not be afraid when the hand that wields it is love! The winds and the sea obey Him; but the voice to which the universe pays homage says to every trembling disciple, "Be of good cheer."
The God that rules on high,
And thunders when he please;
That rides upon the stormy sky,
And manages the seas:
This awesome God is ours,
Our Father, and our Friend!
It is the voice of WISDOM as well as Love. It might be asked, "Why should not the power that can control the tempest have forbidden it to arise? Why should not the love which tells us not to fear have kept far from us all occasion of fear?" There is love in sending the storm, no less than in appearing to us in the midst of it. Afflictions are themselves proofs of kindness; but the kindness of a wise Father, who withholds not chastisement when He sees it to be for His children’s good. Love, not directed by wisdom, is often injurious to the objects of it. But the love of Jesus is such, that whatever is calculated for the advantage of His people is sure to be bestowed. "They shall not lack any good thing." And are not afflictions among the best of good things, if they tend to alienate us from earth, and to fix our affections more on Himself? Is not 'the tempest' an inestimable blessing, if it brings us more obviously into the presence of Jesus? If when all was serenity we were becoming indifferent to the company of our divine Friend, should we not praise Him for the storm that opens our eyes to watch for His appearing, and our ears to listen to His voice? Are not our heaviest trials among our greatest mercies, when they reveal Jesus to us more vividly, and unite us to Him more closely?
Jesus knows that trials are necessary for us. Though the way to glory has numberless and incomparable delights, yet He Himself has told us to expect storms. "In the world you shall have tribulation." The experience of believers of all ages testifies that:
The path of sorrow, and that path alone,
Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown.
In some form or other, at some time or other, suffering we should look for, suffering we shall have. They who appear exempt are so for a season only. When the calm seems most profound, the tempest may be gathering. The darkness, however deep, the waves, however wild, are no disproof of Christ’s love; but they are illustrations that His love is wise. "He does not afflict willingly, or grieve the children of men." If the trial were not necessary, it would not be sent. "Now, for a season, if need be, we are in heaviness through manifold trials." There is always a "need-be," though we may not fully perceive it. Trials remind us that this world is not our home. If we met with no sorrows in our way, we would be still more prone than we are at present to forget that better land towards which we are journeying. The inconveniences of the road continually tell us that we are only strangers and sojourners. We are taught our frailty, made to feel the insufficiency of earthly things to give us lasting and full enjoyment, and led in our misery more earnestly to seek the aid of our divine Comforter, and to "look to the Rock that is higher than we."
Faith is strengthened by trial. Every Christian grace becomes more vigorous by exercise. Therefore, we are taught by the apostle Paul to "rejoice in tribulations, knowing that tribulations work patience, and patience experience, and experience hope." The apostle James speaks in similar terms: "My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into diverse trials; knowing this, that the trying of your faith works patience." The apostle Peter also encourages believers to patience and cheerfulness in affliction, by the thought that "the trial of our faith, being much more precious than of gold that perishes, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise, and honor, and glory, at the appearing of Jesus Christ" (Rom. 5:3, 4; James 1:2-3; 1 Peter 1:6-7).
Not that the beneficial effects of the storm are always felt while it continues. The mind may be too much agitated by terrors, too much debilitated by sympathy with a diseased body, to be conscious of any immediate advantage. And thus, for our encouragement, we are told that "no affliction for the present seems joyous, but grievous: nevertheless, afterward it yields the peaceable fruit of righteousness to those who are exercised thereby." So in a tempest, the gale from which the mariner dreads destruction often drives the vessel onward in her course. This may not be perceived while the storm is at its height. But afterwards, when the sky becomes clear—afterwards, when the necessary observations can be taken—it is often found that much more progress has been made during one tempestuous night than many previous days of calm. This is always the case with the storms that assail the believer. They invariably speed him onward towards his desired haven. And though, while the winds are howling and the waves roaring around, he may say, "All these things are against me," and fears being driven farther from port. Nevertheless, afterwards, he discovers with thankfulness that the winds he dreaded, have been wafting him onward in his voyage. And that the waves which seemed to threaten him with death, have borne him heavenward.
"It is I!" Yes; the result proves it was Jesus. How many of His people in all ages have echoed the sentiment of the Psalmist, "It was good for me that I have been afflicted!" It is this that He intends. "Whom the Lord loves He chastens, and scourges every son whom He receives. If you endure chastening, God deals with you as with sons." Children seldom see, at the time they are corrected, what advantage can result from it. They may think it hard to be denied this gratification, to submit to that exercise of discipline, to be made to apply themselves to a course of tedious study, or to take nauseous medicine when they are ill. But it is wise love in the parent that imposes present pain for the sake of permanent advantage. Earthly fathers may err, but our heavenly Father never. What He does is always "for our profit." "We know that all things work together for good to those who love God." Then let us not murmur at the storm. "Would we be children, and not be chastened—overcome, and not contend—be gold, and not be tried—be Christians, and not suffer?" (John Owen)
As the bush which Moses beheld on Horeb was not consumed although in flames, for God was there—and as Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego came forth from the midst of the burning fiery furnace unhurt, because the Son of God had walked with them there. Even so, the afflictions that Christians suffer cannot so kindle upon them as that one hair of their head shall be injured! We may have to endure even fiery trials, but we know that the furnace is heated, not to consume, but to purify. In the language of Malachi, "He shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver." Does the refiner throw the precious metals into the flames, and forget them? No, for they are too costly. He is anxious and careful, respecting them. He sits patiently at the door of the furnace, intently watchful. As soon as he sees his own face reflected from the molten metal within, he knows that the process has been successful, and he abates the fury of the flames. So does Jesus watch the furnace of affliction in which His people are being purified, not allowing them to suffer injury and loss, but only waiting to see His own image reflected from their hearts. They come forth as gold seven times purified.
"Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword, separate us from the love of Christ?" The very contrary: they unite us more closely to Him. We not merely survive, but are victorious. "No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us." More than conquerors—not merely remaining in possession of the field, but coming forth unscathed from the conflict, and not merely unscathed, but invigorated. He is indeed a conqueror who, resolutely resisting an attack, wards off every blow so that he suffers no injury, and who, though the conflict may be stern, overthrows, disarms, and tramples under foot his assailant. But if with a generous hand he raises him from the ground and, not content with overcoming his body by superior valor, subdues his spirit also, by superior love, he gains a victory yet more complete. By mastering the foe, he becomes a conqueror; but by converting that foe into a friend, he becomes "more than conqueror."
Such is the victory of the believer. The trials by which he is assailed are not only deprived of all power to injure, but become the principal occasions and instruments of his invigoration, comfort, and salvation. However forbidding their appearance, however rough their salutation, they are bearers of Heaven’s most precious blessings. They wear the aspect of foes only at a distance, and in the beginning of the fight. Soon the Christian warrior embraces them as friends; and the weapons that seemed pointed against him are by faith reversed, and become ranged around him for his defense. His assailants are now his allies; and thus recruited by the encounter, "in all these things he is more than conqueror, through Him that loved us."
The faith, which recognizes in all events the voice of Jesus, is the true alchemy that transmutes all baser substances into gold! However otherwise valueless, even though pernicious and destructive, they now become a precious treasure. In the calculation of his wealth, the believer may include his heaviest trials and keenest sorrows! The apostle Paul says, "All things are yours, the world, life, death, things present, things to come, all are yours." Men do not reckon losses among their possessions. These "all things" are therefore gain to those of whom it may be added "and you are Christ’s." Afflictions therefore, the frowns of 'the world" as well as its smiles; the sorrows of "life" as well as its joys; the sad separations and painful approaches of "death," as well as the heavenly summons it conveys; the storms and struggles of "things present," as well as the calm and the repose of "things to come"—ALL are ours. Were we wise, we would not wish to part with one of them; for who deliberately impoverishes himself? Did we see as God sees, we would understand how they were all working together for our good. But though "we walk by faith, not by sight," may we not be as certain of the result, since God declares it, as if we comprehended the process? The storm is ours!
"There shall no evil befall you, neither shall any plague come near your dwelling" (Ps. 91:10), is a promise to the fullest extent verified in the case of all who "dwell in the secret place of the Most High." To them sorrows are not "evils;" sicknesses are not "plagues." "The shadow of the Almighty," extending far around those who "abide under it" alters the character of all things which come within its influence. Joys are enhanced, and sorrows become joys. The day is brighter, and the night itself is turned to day. Passing through this medium, the lightning, which would have blasted, now only serves to render luminous the path, gilding it with glory; and the poisonous stream, in such an atmosphere as this, not merely loses every noxious quality, but, as it flows by the believer, refreshes, heals, and strengthens him.
Thus the storm is terrible in appearance only. The winds and waves, which beat on the vessel, instead of weakening, make it stronger and more sea-worthy. The buffeting of the billows renders its timbers the more compact. The voyage will be the more prosperous, and the admission into the peaceful harbor at its termination the more triumphant. "For so an entrance shall be ministered unto you abundantly into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ." Trials, however evil in themselves, become invaluable blessings when inflicted by a Father’s hand! Of all the children of God now in glory, it is true that "He led them forth by the right way, that they might go to a city of habitation." It was often a rugged way, a dark way, a mysterious way, a stormy way, but always the right way. It is so still. I may experience it to be a valley of tears through which I pass, but whatever grief I feel, whatever difficulties I encounter, it is the right way, for it is my Father’s way—and who so wise and kind as He? It is the way to the city of God. Every step is necessary to take me nearer to that heavenly home. The very toils of the journey will result in bliss—and how soon will they be over! What a bright dawn will follow the few dark hours during which we may be "tossed by the waves, toiling in rowing, the wind being contrary!" "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning." How short the night compared with the eternal day of which that morning is but the harbinger! Yes, amid the tumult and terror of the tempest, Jesus, rendering all things subservient to our welfare, bids us to be of good cheer, saying, "It is I; do not be afraid."
God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.
You fearful saints, fresh courage take,
The clouds you so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence,
He hides a smiling face.
Moreover, the voice that speaks to us in the storm is that of one who has Himself been tempest-tossed. He was once the "man of sorrows," with an emphasis to which none of His followers can lay claim. There are no trials they endure with which He is not experimentally familiar. He knew what it was to suffer bodily privation. "He had no where to lay His head." He "hungered." He endured the torture and ignominy of the scourge and the cross. "He was despised and rejected of men." His own friends "forsook Him and fled." He endured unutterable anguish of spirit. "It pleased the Lord to bruise Him." "He put Him to grief." "Being in agony He prayed more earnestly." His soul was "exceeding sorrowful, even unto death." He "sweat great drops of blood." On the cross He exclaimed, with a bitter cry, "My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?"
These were real agonies, real temptations. It was not a fictitious storm that burst upon Him. It was not the mere appearance of tempest. The conflict was not imaginary. He was without sin, but not without a struggle against sin. He overcame, not because there was nothing to resist, but because love to His Father was supreme in His breast. The pain of hunger in the desert was real and acute. The inducement to appease that pain was real. So also the agony of the cross was real, and nature must have shrunk from it. But submission to the will of His Father was a stronger principle. Yet the struggle was severe. Else it would not be true that in "all points He was tempted like as we are." There is no degree of suffering, or conflict, which He did not endure. The wind never blew against any bark so furiously as against His! The night was never so dark, the waves never so boisterous, as when he encountered the storm.
What strong consolation is thus presented to afflicted disciples! Jesus is as able to feel for our distress as to deliver us out of it. His is a true sympathy. We do not suffer alone. He bears our grief. What encouragement to "come with boldness to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need," when we know that "we have not a High Priest who cannot be touched with a feeling of our infirmities!" The sorrows which oppress us, weighed more heavily on Him. The foes we battle with more fiercely assailed Him. We but taste the bitter cup; He drained it. There fall on us but a few drops of the tempest, which spent its rage on Him!
If then He, the holy, harmless, undefiled; escaped not the storm, shall we wonder or repine at affliction? In us there is much dross to be consumed; but in Him there was none. If He suffered, not for Himself, but for us, shall not we be content to suffer for ourselves? He consecrated the path of sorrow by His own sacred footsteps, and thus conferred on it a peculiar dignity. As the thorns that lacerated His brow composed a crown, so there is henceforth a majesty in grief, which no earthly joys can boast. The King of kings wore a diadem of pain, and appeared on earth, not as the man of gladness, but "the Man of sorrows." Let us rejoice in being conformed unto our Lord. Should not the servant be like his Master? If He encountered storms, is it fitting we should enjoy unbroken calm?
"If He led through rugged ways, shall we think to traverse only flowery meadows? It is a joyful thing to be a sharer with Christ in anything. All enjoyments wherein He is not, are bitter to a soul that loves Him, and all sufferings with Him, are sweet. The worst things of Christ are more delightful than the best things of the world. His afflictions are sweeter than its pleasures. Love delights in likeness, not only in things pleasant, but also in the hardest things, which have nothing in them desirable but only that likeness. What does the world by its hatred, but make us more like Him? When He was sought to be made a king, He escaped; but when He was sought to be brought to the cross, He freely yielded Himself. And shall I creep back from what He calls me to suffer? Has He not gone through all before, and made all easy and lovely? Has He not sweetened poverty, persecution, hatred, disgrace, and death itself—perfumed the grave, and turned it from a pit of horror into a sweet resting bed?" (Leighton)
"It is I!" Jesus calls our attention to Himself. He says not "Be of good cheer; you are skillful, strong, persevering, and well able to cope with the storm"—but "Be of good cheer; it is I." Our rigging may be rent, our sails torn, our rudder lost, our vessel dismasted, leaky, and almost a wreck; but when Jesus says "It is I," we cannot sink. Nothing can injure us with Him—nothing save us without Him! A babe and Christ can master the universe. But the babe does nothing, Christ everything. In our carnal pride we would be doing everything—pumping, rowing, shifting the sails, as though by our own efforts we could escape. But Christ will make us know how vain are all our labors without Him. He alone can save.
When the angel of destruction smote Egypt’s firstborn, but passed over the houses of the Israelites, the feeble infant was as safe as the vigorous man was, if the blood was sprinkled on the doorposts. The strength of the vigorous man could not have defended him. The helplessness of the feeble infant could not have endangered him. So the blood of Christ is our only and all-sufficient safeguard. When Jesus was in the ship with His disciples, the weakest of them was as safe as the strongest, for the security of all was the same—the presence of their Lord. So if He is with us in the storm, our safety is not affected by anything in ourselves, but is absolutely guaranteed by Him. "It is I!" Whatever our unworthiness, however weak our faith, Christ is our deliverer; and "He is able to save to the uttermost." A helpless disciple, holding the hand of a mighty Savior, will come forth unhurt out of every storm. Jesus says, "My grace is sufficient for you: for My strength is made perfect in weakness." With the apostle let me respond, and say, "Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in necessities, in distresses: for when I am weak, then am I strong" (2 Cor. 12:7-10).
"It is I!" This was a voice the efficacy of which the disciples had often witnessed. It had said, "Arise; take up your bed, and walk," and the poor cripple was made whole. It had said, "Be opened," and the ears of the deaf were unstopped. It had said to the leper, "Be clean," and "immediately his leprosy departed from him." It had said, "Go out of him," and the demoniac was restored to his right mind. It had said, "Arise," and "he who was dead sat up, and began to speak." It had just blessed the five loaves and the two fish—and twelve baskets full of fragments remained after five thousand had feasted. And the disciples had been before in a storm, when Jesus was asleep in the hinder part of the ship. "They were in jeopardy," for "the ship was covered with the waves." But when Jesus rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, "Peace; be still," the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. Might not the disciples reasonably dispel their fears, when a voice, which had always been so mighty said, "Be of good cheer"?
Afflicted believer, is the voice that addresses you altogether strange? Can you not call to mind many a storm in which it has dispelled your fears and soothed your sorrows? Does not the history of the Church in all ages testify to the wonderful deliverances Christ has effected for His people! Have not His followers always been tossed with tempests? Yet has not the Lord delivered out of them all? It is not more certain that Christians have always been an afflicted people, than that Jesus has always been with them to preserve them amid the tempest. How great the cloud of witnesses who testify to His constant care and unchanging love! How innumerable the multitudes who have come out of great tribulation, and now, clothed in white clothing, ascribe salvation to God and the Lamb!
Yes! It is a voice that has never spoken in vain! Be of good cheer, afflicted disciple! Think what He has already done for you! He groaned, bled, and died for you. You were lost, but He found you; an enemy, but He reconciled you; a captive, but He freed you; blind, but He cured you; dead, but He quickened you. He washed you from your guilt in His own blood. He clothed you with His own white robe. He renewed your corrupt nature. He imparted to you His sanctifying and comforting Spirit. He introduced you to the Father, and you became a child of God. He now intercedes for you, is preparing for you a mansion of glory. "For God has reserved a priceless inheritance for his children. It is kept in heaven for you, pure and undefiled, beyond the reach of change and decay." How often has He spoken to you in tones of tenderness! How has your heart burned within you as He has walked with you in the way! What peace and joy have you experienced while He has held converse with your soul! Has not He turned your mourning into dancing, your night into day, and your tempest into calm already?
Having done so much for you, will He now leave you to perish? May you not with confidence use the same argument with which Manoah was comforted by his wife, when, having been visited by the angel of Jehovah, he feared they would be destroyed? "If the Lord were pleased to kill us, He would not have received a burned offering and a food offering at our hands, neither would He have showed us all these things." Would Jesus have done so much for you already—would He have called you by His grace, renewed you by His Spirit, comforted you by His love, and preserved you to this day, if He intended now to abandon you? If He sought you when a stranger, will He not take care of you now that you are a child? If the foe was loved, how much more the friend! "If, when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son, how much more, being reconciled, we shall be saved by His life!" Will He refuse to answer the prayers He Himself has prompted, to fulfill the hopes He Himself has inspired, to honor the confidence He Himself has encouraged, to complete the work He Himself has begun? No! Former mercies are a sure pledge of the future inheritance, former deliverances a certain pledge of final safety! Amid the howling of the storm, let this be your song—
His love in time past forbids me to think
He’ll leave me at last, in trouble to sink;
Each sweet Ebenezer I have in review
Confirms his good pleasure to bring me quite through.
How unreasonable is it for a disciple of Jesus to worry! We are told to cast all our burdens on Him, "for He cares for us." How unnecessary to do that for ourselves which is so much better done by Him! He has undertaken to do all for us which not only our safety but our happiness requires. His infinite love prompts Him always to choose what His infinite wisdom sees to be best for us, while His infinite power enables Him to accomplish it. Are we not perfectly safe then in such keeping? Suppose we could control the elements, and that for some important object we had called forth a storm. If we were in a vessel that could not sink, we would contemplate the raging waters with pleasure, knowing that they were fulfilling our own intentions, and that a perfect calm would ensue the moment that we gave the word. But this is actually true—only the ruling of the storm is in the hands of Jesus instead of our own. Shall we be less courageous on this account? Doesn’t He know much better than we the special purposes for which the storm is needed, and the precise moment when its tempest should be allayed? Should we not rely with fullest confidence on His watchful care, and rejoice, however loud the tempest, that it can accomplish only our good, having no power to do us harm?
"It is I!" Oh, how should all anxieties subside at the sound! Are they caused by the cares of this life? Jesus says, "So I tell you, don't worry about everyday life—whether you have enough food, drink, and clothes. Doesn't life consist of more than food and clothing? Look at the birds. They don't need to plant or harvest or put food in barns because your heavenly Father feeds them. And you are far more valuable to him than they are. Can all your worries add a single moment to your life? Of course not. And why worry about your clothes? Look at the lilies and how they grow. They don't work or make their clothing, yet Solomon in all his glory was not dressed as beautifully as they are. And if God cares so wonderfully for flowers that are here today and gone tomorrow, won't he more surely care for you? You have so little faith!" "All things work together for good to those who love God." "For the angel of the Lord guards all who fear him, and he rescues them." "Even strong young lions sometimes go hungry, but those who trust in the Lord will never lack any good thing." "The righteous face many troubles, but the Lord rescues them from each and every one." (Matt. 6:25-34; Rom. 8:28; Ps. 34:7, 10, 19).
Why then should Christians fear? And if Jesus cares for the body, how much more will He supply the needs of the soul! Is not His assurance, "My grace is sufficient for you," encouragement enough in every extremity? Has He not undertaken everything for the sinner? Is He not made to us "wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption?" However "poor and wretched, and miserable, and blind, and naked" in ourselves, are we not "complete in Him?" What could He say that He has left unsaid, to calm our apprehensions? "O afflicted one, tossed with tempest, and not comforted, I hid My face from you for a moment; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on you. For the mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed; but My kindness shall not depart from you, neither shall the covenant of My peace be removed, says the Lord that has mercy on you. Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you. I have called you by name; you are mine. When you go through deep waters and great trouble, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown! When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you. For I am the Lord, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior!" He is faithful who has promised. He cannot deny Himself. Heaven and earth shall pass away, but His words shall not pass away; and He has said of all His people, "I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any one pluck them out of My hand" (Isa. 54:6-17; 43:1-3; John 10:28).
Let us but believe these promises, and there will be a great calm. As when the disciples "received Jesus into the ship, the wind ceased, and immediately they were at the land where they went," so when we by faith fully receive Christ into our hearts, the raging of the storm is over. The external troubles may continue, but can produce no tempest within. The believer is "kept in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on God." One of the martyrs, exposed to public derision in an iron cage, is reported to have said to a bystander, who expressed surprise at the cheerfulness he manifested, "You can see these bars, but you cannot hear the music in my conscience." So the world, looking only at the outward affliction, may see no abatement of the hurricane, and may wonder at the composure the Christian exhibits in the midst of it. They hear the thunder, and the roaring of the winds and waves, but cannot distinguish the voice of Jesus saying, "It is I," which so cheers the tossed disciple. They can view the outward trouble, but not the inward consolation of the life "hidden with Christ." It is "the peace of God, which passes all understanding."
Let us then reply to the promises of God in the exulting language of faith. Let songs of praise arise from the ark in which we are securely borne along amid the storm. "God is our refuge and strength, always ready to help in times of trouble. So we will not fear, even if earthquakes come and the mountains crumble into the sea. Let the oceans roar and foam. Let the mountains tremble as the waters surge! I hear the tumult of the raging seas as your waves and surging tides sweep over me. Yet the Lord will command His loving-kindness in the daytime, and in the night His song shall be with me, and my prayer unto the God of my life. O Lord God Almighty! Where is there anyone as mighty as you, Lord? Faithfulness is your very character. You are the one who rules the oceans. When their waves rise in fearful storms, you subdue them! Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you disturbed within me? I will put my hope in God! I will praise him again—my Savior and my God! (Ps. 46:1-3; 42:7-8, 11; 89:8-9)
When conscience accuses, hear Him say, "It is I! I, who have fully atoned for your sins! I, who have blotted them all out by My blood!" When the thought of God alarms, listen to His voice: "It is I! I, who have made peace by the blood of the cross! I, by whom the just God becomes the justifier of the ungodly!" When the painful conviction of shortcomings, after all our striving, overwhelms, again He says, "It is I! I, whose white robe will cover all your filthy rags! I, from whose perfect obedience, and not from your own unworthiness, you are to look for acceptance with God!" When a sense of weakness, and inability to cope with the many difficulties and dangers which surround us, depresses the mind, again His voice is heard, "It is I! I, who have engaged to perform all things for you! I, who will never leave you nor forsake you!"
"It is I!" This is enough to satisfy every doubt, to quell every fear, to meet every difficulty. Am I guilty? Jesus receives the chief of sinners! Am I helpless? Jesus is able to save to the uttermost! Am I lost? Jesus "came to seek and to save the lost!" Have I no merits? Jesus is "made to us righteousness!" Have I nothing? In Jesus, "all fullness dwells!" He died for me; He lives to intercede for me; He watches over, strengthens, supports me; He guides me in darkness, cheers me in sorrow, defends me in danger, and is preparing a place for me in heaven! If He is with me, what can injure me? If He is for me, who can be against me? The winds and the waves may roar around, but they have no power to harm me while Jesus says, "It is I!"
And when the last storm of life assails me, He will still be at hand. "Yes, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff they comfort me." It will not be a dark valley, if His form appears in it; it will not be dreary, if His voice is heard. There is no such thing as death to the believer. "He who believes in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and he that lives and believes in Me, shall never die."
Jesus, by His own dying, extracted the sting from death, and deprived it of all power to injure. "He destroyed death, and delivered them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage." We can echo the sentiment of a departing saint, who said, "I can smile on death, because Jesus smiles on me." Or rather death disappears, and Christ alone is seen. He holds the keys of the invisible world, and is present at the deathbed of every saint, to liberate the spirit from the corruptible body, and to receive it into the "house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens."
Let this be our consolation when we mourn over those who sleep in Jesus. It is not an enemy who has done this. It is no frightful monster who has torn that dear one from our loving embrace. It was a Brother’s arms that received the departing spirit. He commits the important office to no inferior messenger, far less to an enemy. "I will come again, and receive you unto Myself." The dying Stephen beheld Him, when he said, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." Yes, it is Jesus! In that chamber of anxiety and tears, where the feeble tide of ebbing life is watched so tenderly, and all is being done that skill and kindness can suggest to delay the dreaded moment of separation, Jesus is saying, "It is I!" In that darkened abode, where the activity of love no longer holds back the floodgates of grief, Jesus whispers, "It is I!" At that sad funeral procession, each advancing step of which seems as though it were conveying the mourners to their own burial, Jesus—as at Nain—touches the coffin, and says to the widow, the fatherless, the friendless, "It is I." At the open grave, where with that dead body are to be sepulchered so many living joys and hopes, Jesus—as at Bethany—stands among the mourners and, while weeping with them, allays their sorrow, saying, "It is I." Yes, it is Jesus who has taken away the departed spirit, to the full enjoyment of a love still tenderer than theirs, in a world where tears are never shed, and pain is never felt, and death is forever unknown! Let us then be consoled by the thought of the instantaneous and perfect bliss of those whose separation from us we lament. Amid the storm, in which we lose sight for a season of those who were dearer than life itself,
This is the solace to our sorrow given,
That they were borne on tempest’s wing to heaven,
And are rejoicing, midst the pure and free,
In the high home of God, where there is no more sea!
This consideration should be enough to sustain our minds when a similar tempest bursts upon us. Death to the disciple is Jesus. Every symptom of increasing disease only proves that Jesus is nearer. The clouds may seem dark, the thunder terrible, the waves overwhelming; but they only betoken the near approach of our heavenly Friend. He speaks amid the tumult, and says, "It is I!—I, who, having prepared your mansion, have come to take you to Myself! Be of good cheer; it is I; do not be afraid!" Shall we shrink from His embrace? Shall we not rather rejoice that our deliverance draws near, knowing that to depart and be with Jesus is far better?
The author, being recently at Scarborough, during tempestuous weather, observed early in the morning two small fishing vessels approaching the harbor. The crews had been exposed to the gale for several days, and their strength and provisions were nearly exhausted. How eagerly they longed for the plenty, and security, and repose, which seemed now so near! But such furious breakers raged round the pier, that it was obvious to those on shore that to attempt an entrance would be destruction. The cliff was hastily scaled, a beacon kindled, and signals made that they must again stay out to sea. In a few minutes the warning would be too late. There was a moment’s anxious suspense. Then the little vessels were seen reluctantly to alter their coarse and, disappointed in their hopes, their exhausted crews had again to face the storm!
How happy the contrast in the case of the disciple of Christ! The fury of the tempest, instead of driving him from his strong refuge, makes him only the more welcome there. The harbor of Christ’s love is always accessible! The greater our distress, the readier our entrance! And the final resting place—the heaven of glory, where that love is fully manifested, and where those who enter are secure from all future perils—is full in view when the great and final tempest bursts over us. How invitingly does it spread itself out before the eye of faith! How perfect the peace, how unbroken the calm, how ineffable the bliss which are experienced there! No tears are shed, no alarm is felt, no temptations assail there! The beacon blazes, not to repel, but to allure! Angels beckon us to approach! Jesus bids us not be dismayed! For the last time, he says, "Be of good cheer; it is I!" No disciple ever suffered shipwreck in endeavoring to enter there. The tempest that rages outside only drives the laboring vessel more quickly in. Those waves only bear the soul more rapidly home. That hurricane only wafts the spirit more triumphantly to God! How brief the struggle, how long the repose! "After you have suffered awhile, eternal glory!" Of the accumulated trials of the longest life, we may say, with such a prospect, "For our present troubles are quite small and won't last very long. Yet they produce for us an immeasurably great glory that will last forever! So we don't look at the troubles we can see right now; rather, we look forward to what we have not yet seen. For the troubles we see will soon be over, but the joys to come will last forever." "O death, where is your sting? O grave, where is your victory?"
Lord, I believe! Help my unbelief! Pity and pardon the fears of your poor, weak, trembling disciple! Help me to behold You more clearly, more constantly! May I hear Your voice both in the tempest and the calm. Let the kind assurance, "It is I," always be enough to gladden my heart. Often have You said, "Come unto Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden; and I will give you rest." Lord, I would now accept Your gracious call. I bring You nothing but a burden of guilt and wretchedness! Naked, vile, undone, just as I am, I come! And I know You will not cast me out. From the midst of the waves, I look up to You! I am come into deep waters! The winds are boisterous, the tempest is high! Outward woes, inward conflicts, assail my feeble bark! I must soon sink without Your promised help! Save me, O God, for the waters are come in unto my soul! Let not the flood-waters overflow me, neither let the deep swallow me up! The sorrows of my heart are enlarged: oh, bring me out of my distresses! Lord, save me, or I perish! Rebuke the waves! Bring me out of many waters! Let the light of Your love disperse the darkness! Let the thunder of the storm be hushed by Your voice, saying, "It is I; do not be afraid!"
Jesus! lover of my soul,
Let me to Your bosom fly,
While the nearer waters roll,
While the tempest still is high.
Hide me, O my Savior, hide,
Until the storm of life is past:
Safe into the haven guide:
O receive my soul at last!"
"The Voice of Jesus in the Storm"
by Newman Hall
(Matthew 14:22-33; Mark 6:45-50; John 6:15-21)
Is it stormy weather with you? Do cares, disappointments, bereavements, as a heavy cloud, deluge you with sorrow? Do spiritual troubles assail you as a hurricane, and drive here and there your harassed soul? Do the winds and the waves beat upon your frail bark, so that it seems about to sink? "O afflicted one, tossed with tempest, and not comforted," listen to the voice of Jesus, who comes to you in the storm, walking upon the waters, and says, "It is I; do not be afraid!"
The design of religion is to make us joyful. This world is indeed a valley of tears, but the Man of sorrows has visited it that we may rejoice. We are surrounded by causes of alarm, but the gospel bids us fear not. And that which alone can enable us to be joyful amid sorrows, and of good courage amid perils, is the presence of our God and Savior. To believe in Him as always near, always kind, always mighty to save, is the true and sole antidote to fear and grief. It is only in proportion as we recognize His voice, as that of a friend, saying, "It is I," that we can comply with his exhortation, "Be of good cheer; do not be afraid."
The disciples were once in a storm on the Sea of Galilee. Their Master had been miraculously feeding five thousand people, with five loaves and two fishes. The people were so astonished at His power, that they resolved to make Him their King. But as He had come not to reign, but to suffer, He urged them to return quietly to their homes, and He Himself retired to a mountain to pray. Meanwhile, Jesus "constrained His disciples to get into a ship, and to go before Him unto the other side" of the lake. It is most likely that they did not understand the reason of this request. It seemed strange to them. Why should He be left to disperse the multitude alone? Why should they be deprived of His company? If He wished retirement, why could they not wait on the shore until He came from the mountain? How could He follow them, if they went away with the ship? But they were commanded, and this was sufficient.
Even so, Christians still have to do and to suffer many things, the reason of which is hidden from them. But an obedient disciple will not say, "Why has this been appointed me to do? Why has that been given me to suffer?—for until I comprehend the reason I will not obey the command." Oh, no! His language will rather be, "Lord, what will you have me to do?" If the head of a family, the commander of a ship, the general of an army, often gives orders which, though not explained, are promptly obeyed, shall we presume to sit questioning the will of Jesus, instead of making haste and delaying not to keep His commandments? May we not expect to hear Him reprovingly say to us, "What is that to you? Follow Me!"
But the Christian’s duty not only sometimes baffles his reason, but also opposes his preferences. How much more willingly would the disciples have remained in the company of their beloved Master! How much they perhaps fancied they were losing, while, deprived of His company, they were in the ship alone! So, in obedience to duty, the Christian may still seem to be a loser, not only in temporal, but even in spiritual respects. His opportunities of religious advancement may appear to be curtailed by a course which, otherwise, he would not hesitate to pronounce his duty to his Savior. It is his duty still. Apparent consequences do not diminish the obligation of an obvious command. And he who most scrupulously adheres to the path of obedience will most successfully travel in the path of improvement too. Duty is identical with privilege. However delightful and profitable the company of Jesus must have been, the disciples gained far more by being obediently absent, than rebelliously near. Obedience is the best kind of nearness.
The evening on which the disciples embarked was calm and fair. The day had not been stormy—else the five thousand could not so comfortably have sat upon the grass at that miraculous feast. It was after the disciples had left the shore that "the sea arose by reason of a great wind that blew." They therefore must have anticipated a safe and pleasant voyage. Thus how often do storms visit believers, when only calm weather is expected! The brightest beginnings are not sure harbingers of continued prosperity! The morning sun may be undimmed, but black thunderclouds may conceal his rays at noon. The finest day may be followed by the stormiest night, and the ocean, now without a ripple, may before long writhe beneath the lashings of the tempest. Our dearest treasures may suddenly be taken from us, and our fairest hopes are withered in the bud. Sunshine and calm are treacherous—they cannot always last. Do not sailors expect to encounter gales and tempests, and therefore provide themselves with anchors and all other things that may be of use in such emergencies? How foolish are they who voyage on the perilous ocean of life without the Christian’s hope "as an anchor of the soul, sure and steadfast!" We should be prepared for storms, that we may not be overwhelmed with surprise and terror when they come. But if Jesus is with us, the most terrific tempest cannot harm us. The profoundest calm is infinitely perilous without Him.
Behold the frightened disciples in their storm-driven boat! They have to struggle with difficulties. The favorable breeze with which they weighed anchor has changed to an opposing gale. They have taken down their sail as no longer of any use, and they are now tugging at the oars! "They toiled in rowing, for the wind was contrary unto them." Moreover, the night "was now dark!" They were in danger too, for their little vessel was "in the midst of the sea, tossed with waves." Worse than all, they were alone, for "Jesus had not come unto them."
This is a fit representation of the circumstances by which believers are still often tried. What contrary winds and tides have they to contend with! What darkness surrounds them! What perils threaten them! And sometimes, even Jesus seems withdrawn! The stormy gales of trouble blow from various quarters. Bitter disappointments, grievous losses, perplexing cares, anxious apprehensions, pinching poverty, the injuries of foes and, far worse, the slights of friends. Painful diseases, suspension of beloved activities, prostrated strength, debilitated faculties, weary wakefulness, gnawing pain. Heartbreaking bereavements, tearing from us those with whom our very life was bound together, leaving a blank which nothing earthly can fill. A wounded spirit, bending beneath the burden of anguish, or severe conflicts with the great adversary of souls, harassing temptations, distorted views of truth, awful terrors of mind, gloomy doubts, dark despondency. Oh!, what black clouds do such stormy winds as these often cause to gather round the believer, so that scarcely a ray of light can struggle through to cheer him as he is tossed up and down amid the billows!
Was this to be expected? Am I not a disciple, under the special protection of Jesus? Has He not promised to defend me from all harm? Has He not told me that His angels have charge over me, and that no evil thing shall happen unto me? If He were my Protector, my Savior, my Friend, could such troubles as these assail me? These thoughts may have assailed the disciples. Though Jesus was then bodily on the earth, yet they did not escape the storm. But Jesus was not unfaithful or forgetful. Do not be then, O reader, surprised if sometimes you also are "in the midst of the sea, tossed with waves." Who expects the ocean to be always calm? Discipleship is distinguished rather by exposure to troubles than exemption from them. "We must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom." Christ has promised to deliver us out of the storm, but not to secure us from encountering it. "There has no temptation taken you but such as is common to men; but God is faithful, who" (not will preserve you from trial, but) "will not allow you to be tempted above that you able, but will with the temptation also make a way of escape that you may be able" (not to avoid it, but) "to bear it." "The same afflictions have been accomplished in the brotherhood" of faith in all ages. The saints in glory all toiled in rowing amid similar billows. Though never shipwrecked, they were all tempest-tossed. The elder Brother himself did not escape! He was made like to His brethren—in all points tempted as we are! "Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you" (I Cor. 10:13; 1 Peter 4:12, 5:9).
These storms may often rise against us, even when acting in direct obedience to the will of Christ. The disciples had not set sail without His express command. Yet the tempest assailed them. Jesus knew that the wind would arise. He Himself permitted it to blow. Nevertheless, He told the disciples to go over to the other side! We should learn never to interpret duty by success. The opposition, which assails us in the course of obedience, is no evidence that we are mistaken. He who gives laws to His servants is the controller of all events. It may be His will that in the very act of obedience we should encounter storms. He foreknew every trial we should meet with when He laid down the route we should pursue. We must not dare to turn back. The disciples, when the wind became contrary, might have wished to return to shore, especially as Jesus was there. But they had been commanded to go to the other side; and so they continued rowing, even though they made little or no progress. They were not responsible for the contrary wind that stopped them, but they were responsible for striving to obey the will of their Master. Even so, no difficulty must daunt us in the way of obedience. Let the prow of our vessel be ever turned toward the point of duty, however terrible the gale, however mighty the waves which beat against it. Though they may seem to force us back, yet, if we persevere in obediently struggling against them, we are really making rapid progress. Christ secures deliverance and success to every faithful disciple. Better, infinitely better, to suffer the loss of all things in obeying Jesus, than to purchase the universe by retreating from the storm. Better to perish in the tempest than to seek safety in a disobedient flight. "For whoever will save his life shall lose it; but whoever will lose his life, for My sake, shall find it."
But while the disciples are battling with the winds and the waves, where is Jesus? In the mountain, alone with His Father, spending the night in prayer. Are His afflicted followers forgotten? When were they ever absent from His considerate thoughts, His loving heart? Doubtless He is interceding for them. He intercedes for you, afflicted, tempest-tossed reader! Most consoling truth. "He ever lives to make intercession for us!" By night and by day, in the tempest and the calm, His all-prevalent prayer arises, "Father, keep them from the evil!" You are never forgotten by Him. The hands of Moses grew weary as he was praying for the Israelites, and when they drooped, Amalek prevailed. But a mightier than Moses is here, who never is weary, and whom the Father hears always. He bears your name upon His heart; you are engraved on the palms of His hands; in every storm He is on the mount, and His intercession renders your deliverance certain. Do not think that because the wind is boisterous, and the storm continues long, He intercedes in vain. Your not sinking proves that His advocacy prevails. Expect a calm, and you may be disappointed. But charge not His mediation with inefficacy. Expect supporting grace, and final deliverance, and your hope shall never make you ashamed. He prays not that our day may never be stormy; but, in answer to His intercession, we may always be confident that "as our day so shall our strength be."
Jesus not only prayed for His disciples, but also watched them in the tempest. They could not see Him. They might think themselves beyond His sight; for they had rowed a distance of some three miles. And as we are told, the night was dark, their small vessel could not be seen from the shore. Yet the eye of Jesus was on it! He saw every wave that broke over it. He beheld the poor disciples in dismay, laboring unavailingly at the oars. He understood all that was in their hearts. "He saw them toiling in rowing." And does He not see you also, storm-driven reader? Do not think your case is unknown to Him. Every secret anxiety, every heart-buried grief, is watched from His throne on high! He knows all your difficulties, sorrows, and temptations. You shall not perish by any oversight of His. When He sees that the fitting season has arrived, He will appear for your deliverance!
This manifest deliverance may be delayed. It was not until the fourth watch in the night that the disciples beheld their Savior. How long those hours appeared! Until three o’clock in the morning they toiled in rowing against the furious winds and waves. Perhaps they unbelievingly thought they were quite forgotten by their Master, and abandoned to the raging storm. And still it often happens to afflicted believers, that Jesus seems to delay His promised help. It is delay in appearance only. Was He not assisting His disciples most effectually while watching them from the shore, and interceding on their behalf? Were they not preserved from destruction, though as yet they had not seen their deliverer? Were they not saved in the storm, though not from it?
Thus Jesus is ever present to protect us, even though we may not see Him. Troubles may appear overwhelmingly great, and spiritual darkness benight our souls, without one ray of comfort to dart across the gloom. And this may continue days, months, years! Jesus may delay to reveal Himself, but not to support and help His disciples. And for that very delay, He has the kindest, wisest reasons. Oh, to say from the heart, "My times are in Your hand!" To believe them to be in the best hand! To wish them in no other! And therefore not to murmur or be dismayed, even though until the fourth watch in the night, we are allowed to continue "toiling in rowing, the wind being contrary." His time is the best time. The hour of deliverance will certainly arrive. "For the vision is yet for an appointed time; but at the end it shall speak, and not lie: though it tarries, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry."
When at length Jesus did appear to His storm-tossed disciples, the manner of His coming was so unexpected and strange that, instead of joy, their first emotion was terror. He approached them walking on the waves! Who would have expected Him thus? It was a phenomenon never witnessed before. Notwithstanding former displays of His power, the disciples doubtless regarded the intervening sea an impassable barrier between them and their divine Master. This was the last manner in which they would expect to behold Him. And when He did come, making the very waters, which they thought must keep Him absent, the path by which He approached, their terror was such that they did not recognize their Deliverer, but fancied that they saw a ghost.
Ah! how often do we limit the Holy One of Israel! We too often think of Him as like ourselves in His resources! We regard as an impossibility that which presents to Him no difficulty. We despair of help from the very quarters where, perhaps, He is that moment advancing to our deliverance! We presume to prescribe to the Almighty. Instead of praying for His aid, and leaving to His loving wisdom the manner of it, we too often determine in our own minds the method by which the hoped-for assistance will be given. Disappointed in our expectation, we perhaps murmur that our prayers have been disregarded, though at the very time we are receiving in some other way the aid we sought. Is not strength to bear a burden as much an answer to prayer as its removal? Is not grace to persevere in supplication, amid surrounding gloom, as much a proof of our Savior’s faithfulness as if the sunshine dispersed the darkness? May not a still deeper sense of our vileness and helplessness be an answer to prayer for spiritual growth, still more valuable at some seasons than even the joy and peace we coveted? Though the enemy may not have left us, yet is it no mercy to be enabled to maintain the conflict, and "having done all, to stand"? And though the storm may continue to rage, and the calm is long delayed, yet is it not a proof that Jesus is with us, so long as the waves are not allowed to overwhelm us?
Like the disciples, who "cried out for fear, saying, It is a spirit," we often mistake the form and presence of our Lord! We look with apprehension on what should disperse our fear. Our best blessings, and the answers to our most earnest prayers, cause us alarm and grief. What shortsighted, blind and ignorant creatures we are! How we mistake the intentions of our dearest Friend! How often we tremble, when we should be of good courage! How often we mourn and complain, when we should abound in thanksgiving! Oh, help us, gracious Savior, to leave with You the manner of Your appearing! However strange, however terrible the outward shape, may we recognize the presence of our ever-faithful Friend! Nothing is impossible with You! Still You often walk upon the waters. What we most dread as distressing and ruinous, You may select as the best method of effecting our deliverance! Though the tempest is high, and though the night is dark, yet let us adoringly recognize and hail You, walking to us on the boisterous waves!
The terror of the disciples was speedily allayed by the encouraging voice of Jesus, "It is I; do not be afraid! It is no ghost, no avenging angel, none of the powers of darkness; it is I—your Master, your Protector, your Friend: fear not!" What consolation this must have afforded to that affrighted crew! There is nothing that can so allay the grief of afflicted believers as hearing Jesus say, "It is I." In every calamity, in every grief, He is present. We are never alone. Our best Friend is always near. And He is not only with us in the storm, but He sends and controls it! We are too apt to attribute our troubles to secondary causes alone, losing sight of Him without whom not even a sparrow falls to the ground. Men say, "This was an accident," or "That was owing to the operation of general laws," or "An enemy has done this." Jesus says, "It is I!" Whatever may be the truth, respecting human agency and natural laws, there is a Supreme Controller, without whose permission and direction no event transpires. Though man’s free agency is not invaded, nor the ordinary course of nature impeded, most absolutely true is the Savior’s own declaration, "My Father works hitherto, and I work." In every event, important or trivial in the estimation of man, he speaks and says "It is I!" In poverty, "It is I!" In sickness, "It is I!" In anxiety, "It is I!" In bereavement, "It is I!" Whatever be the nature of the storm, from whatever quarter the hurricane may blow, still Jesus says, "It is I!" Not merely when the waters are smooth, reflecting every shadow on their mirrored surface, while an unclouded sun diffuses light and gladness all around, but when the dark clouds gather, and the night is black, and the tempest howls, and the thunder rattles, and the waters rage, and hideous gulfs yawn as if to swallow up the despairing disciple—"When tempests shriek through all the cleaving sky, And the mad billows writhe in their huge agony"—even then amid the gloom, may Jesus be seen by the eye of faith, walking in majesty upon the waves and, amid the elemental din, His "still small voice" of mingled dignity and love may be heard saying, "It is I; do not be afraid."
Oh, to recognize Christ more vividly in all our troubles!—to lose sight of human agency in the absorbing contemplation of Jesus! Regrets and murmurs will never end, if we look only or chiefly at secondary causes. "If I had not done this—if I had been more prudent in that—if such a one had not been so unfaithful and unkind"—oh, how endless may such false reasoning become! What discontent they will occasion! How difficult will it be to feel resigned, when we blame others or ourselves as the sole causes of our troubles!
Let me look away from inferior agencies. Jesus sends the storm! Did He ordain this affliction, and shall I not be submissive to His authority? If He sent this poverty, ought I not to welcome it? If He ordered this disappointment, should I regret it? If He has commissioned this sickness—shall I not patiently endure it? If He has allowed enmity to assail me, shall not hatred to my enemy be forgotten in submission to my Friend? If He has bereaved me, and earth appears a blank in the absence of those so dear, though I cannot but mourn, shall I murmur? If He mixes the embittered cup, shall I not drink it? May I not be sure that it is wisely and kindly mingled and, though it may be bitter, that life and health must result from the draught?
Not beholding God in the storm, or entertaining false conceptions of Him, is a prolific source of fear. Some other form is seen in the tempest, which inspires alarm. Men are afraid of fate, or chance, and behold phantoms of evil all around. An assassin lies in ambush at every turn. Each cloud that gathers conceals an enemy, and the muttering of the tempest, is the voice of a foe. Thus, superstition is full of fears, in proportion as it fails to recognize the one sole object of religious reverence. How great a truth is there in the saying of Solomon, "In the fear of the Lord is strong confidence, and his children shall have a place of refuge!" Fear and courage are allied. If we rightly fear the true God, we need fear none besides. What can harm us, if He is our Protector? Whose enmity need we dread, if He is our Friend? Why should the storm distress or frighten us, if Jesus is there to shield us from injury, and even to make the fury of the winds and waves conducive to our good? We cannot escape from the storms of life; but those storms lose their power, not only to injure, but also to alarm, when we hear the voice of Jesus saying, "It is I; do not be afraid!"
As the only reason why the disciples should not fear, Jesus simply said "It is I!" As if this was quite sufficient to banish alarm. It was unnecessary to assure them of their safety; or what He would do to effect it. It was enough to let them know that it was He! His presence was a sufficient guaranty for deliverance. And does not this assurance, "It is I," involve everything needed to calm the fears and soothe the sorrows of afflicted believers still?
It was the voice of POWER —He spoke of whom it is recorded that "all things were made by Him!"—who said, "All power is given unto Me in heaven and in earth"—whom the elements of nature reverently obeyed, and who at that moment was manifesting His supremacy, by suspending His own laws, while He walked upon the sea. It was the voice of one who obviously was able to do everything that was necessary for the safety of the disciples. The storm might be furious, but He could control it! The waves might be boisterous, but He who marched upon their foaming crests could curb their violence. He could, by a word, either still the tempest or preserve His disciples in the midst of it. And it is the same voice of Omnipotence, which still speaks amid the storm. He who made, can control.
It is as true in reference to troubles of every kind as it is of the elements of nature—that "fire and hail, snow and vapors, stormy wind, fulfill His word. He has established them forever: He has made a decree that shall not pass. The sea is His, and He made it. He set for it bars and doors, and said, Hitherto shall you come, and no further; and here shall your proud waves be stayed." And surely He who "commands and raises the stormy wind, which lifts up the waves thereof," is equally able to "make the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still." Afflicted disciple, be of good cheer! He who speaks to you in the tempest produced it, and can control it. The Friend who bids you, fear not, is the God by whom all things were made. He who appears for your support has but to speak, and it is done—to command, and it stands fast. His word is as mighty when it speaks for the comfort of His afflicted people as when it said, "Let there be light, and there was light." Is anything too hard for the Lord?
His very word of grace is strong
As that which built the skies;
The voice that rolls the stars along
Speaks all the promises.
But the recognition of this voice as one of power is not alone sufficient to take away our fear. It might increase it. For He who speaks is the God whom I have offended by my sins, and whose power enables Him only the more effectually to secure my punishment. If He can control the storm, He may direct that lightning to scathe me, those waves to engulf me! The acknowledgment merely of the God of nature is not enough to calm the agitated breast. Until I can hope for pardon, the very perfections that render Him glorious render Him dreadful too! That infinite majesty, that unlimited sovereignty, that boundless might, is all arrayed against my sins! I must behold Jehovah as the God of grace, I must see Him in the person of his Son, before my fears can vanish. And it is Jesus, Immanuel, God with us, who says "It is I."
It was also the voice of LOVE. The disciples at once recognized it as such. It was their best Friend who addressed them, whose tenderness had been uniform, who always made allowances for their infirmities, bore with their provocations, and sympathized with their sorrows. They had never witnessed any act of His life that was not marked by love. None who sought His assistance were ever rejected by Him, and to no request did He ever turn a deaf or an indifferent ear. They were therefore perfectly sure that His power would be put forth to help them. The same voice of love speaks in the storm still. He addresses us—of whom it is written, "Like as a father pities his children, so the Lord pities those who fear Him. As one whom his mother comforts, so will I comfort you. Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion upon the son of her womb? Yes, she may forget, yet I will not forget you."
It is the voice of "the Consolation of Israel" who was "anointed to bind up the broken-hearted, and comfort those who mourn," and of a High Priest who "can have compassion." What could more emphatically prove His love than coming to this world of sorrow and sin to suffer and die for us, when we were enemies to God? He left the habitation of glory for the stable of an inn, the homage of angels for the insults of men, the smile of His Father for the temptations of the devil, the raptures of heaven for the groans of Gethsemane, the splendors of the throne for the ignominy of the cross, the brightness of the celestial glory for the darkness of the tomb. And why was this? It was love that prompted the sacrifice. Love to the undeserving, to the rebellious, to those who then crucified, and to those who now pierce Him by their sins!
And love still prompts His intercession at God’s right hand. Having done so much to save us, will He allow us to perish in the storm? "He that spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, will He not with Him also freely give us all things?" Will the love that has already effected so much fail us in any extremity? May we not feel every doubt dispelled, when we recognize it to be Jesus who says, "It is I?" The scepter He grasps is omnipotence, but we need not be afraid when the hand that wields it is love! The winds and the sea obey Him; but the voice to which the universe pays homage says to every trembling disciple, "Be of good cheer."
The God that rules on high,
And thunders when he please;
That rides upon the stormy sky,
And manages the seas:
This awesome God is ours,
Our Father, and our Friend!
It is the voice of WISDOM as well as Love. It might be asked, "Why should not the power that can control the tempest have forbidden it to arise? Why should not the love which tells us not to fear have kept far from us all occasion of fear?" There is love in sending the storm, no less than in appearing to us in the midst of it. Afflictions are themselves proofs of kindness; but the kindness of a wise Father, who withholds not chastisement when He sees it to be for His children’s good. Love, not directed by wisdom, is often injurious to the objects of it. But the love of Jesus is such, that whatever is calculated for the advantage of His people is sure to be bestowed. "They shall not lack any good thing." And are not afflictions among the best of good things, if they tend to alienate us from earth, and to fix our affections more on Himself? Is not 'the tempest' an inestimable blessing, if it brings us more obviously into the presence of Jesus? If when all was serenity we were becoming indifferent to the company of our divine Friend, should we not praise Him for the storm that opens our eyes to watch for His appearing, and our ears to listen to His voice? Are not our heaviest trials among our greatest mercies, when they reveal Jesus to us more vividly, and unite us to Him more closely?
Jesus knows that trials are necessary for us. Though the way to glory has numberless and incomparable delights, yet He Himself has told us to expect storms. "In the world you shall have tribulation." The experience of believers of all ages testifies that:
The path of sorrow, and that path alone,
Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown.
In some form or other, at some time or other, suffering we should look for, suffering we shall have. They who appear exempt are so for a season only. When the calm seems most profound, the tempest may be gathering. The darkness, however deep, the waves, however wild, are no disproof of Christ’s love; but they are illustrations that His love is wise. "He does not afflict willingly, or grieve the children of men." If the trial were not necessary, it would not be sent. "Now, for a season, if need be, we are in heaviness through manifold trials." There is always a "need-be," though we may not fully perceive it. Trials remind us that this world is not our home. If we met with no sorrows in our way, we would be still more prone than we are at present to forget that better land towards which we are journeying. The inconveniences of the road continually tell us that we are only strangers and sojourners. We are taught our frailty, made to feel the insufficiency of earthly things to give us lasting and full enjoyment, and led in our misery more earnestly to seek the aid of our divine Comforter, and to "look to the Rock that is higher than we."
Faith is strengthened by trial. Every Christian grace becomes more vigorous by exercise. Therefore, we are taught by the apostle Paul to "rejoice in tribulations, knowing that tribulations work patience, and patience experience, and experience hope." The apostle James speaks in similar terms: "My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into diverse trials; knowing this, that the trying of your faith works patience." The apostle Peter also encourages believers to patience and cheerfulness in affliction, by the thought that "the trial of our faith, being much more precious than of gold that perishes, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise, and honor, and glory, at the appearing of Jesus Christ" (Rom. 5:3, 4; James 1:2-3; 1 Peter 1:6-7).
Not that the beneficial effects of the storm are always felt while it continues. The mind may be too much agitated by terrors, too much debilitated by sympathy with a diseased body, to be conscious of any immediate advantage. And thus, for our encouragement, we are told that "no affliction for the present seems joyous, but grievous: nevertheless, afterward it yields the peaceable fruit of righteousness to those who are exercised thereby." So in a tempest, the gale from which the mariner dreads destruction often drives the vessel onward in her course. This may not be perceived while the storm is at its height. But afterwards, when the sky becomes clear—afterwards, when the necessary observations can be taken—it is often found that much more progress has been made during one tempestuous night than many previous days of calm. This is always the case with the storms that assail the believer. They invariably speed him onward towards his desired haven. And though, while the winds are howling and the waves roaring around, he may say, "All these things are against me," and fears being driven farther from port. Nevertheless, afterwards, he discovers with thankfulness that the winds he dreaded, have been wafting him onward in his voyage. And that the waves which seemed to threaten him with death, have borne him heavenward.
"It is I!" Yes; the result proves it was Jesus. How many of His people in all ages have echoed the sentiment of the Psalmist, "It was good for me that I have been afflicted!" It is this that He intends. "Whom the Lord loves He chastens, and scourges every son whom He receives. If you endure chastening, God deals with you as with sons." Children seldom see, at the time they are corrected, what advantage can result from it. They may think it hard to be denied this gratification, to submit to that exercise of discipline, to be made to apply themselves to a course of tedious study, or to take nauseous medicine when they are ill. But it is wise love in the parent that imposes present pain for the sake of permanent advantage. Earthly fathers may err, but our heavenly Father never. What He does is always "for our profit." "We know that all things work together for good to those who love God." Then let us not murmur at the storm. "Would we be children, and not be chastened—overcome, and not contend—be gold, and not be tried—be Christians, and not suffer?" (John Owen)
As the bush which Moses beheld on Horeb was not consumed although in flames, for God was there—and as Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego came forth from the midst of the burning fiery furnace unhurt, because the Son of God had walked with them there. Even so, the afflictions that Christians suffer cannot so kindle upon them as that one hair of their head shall be injured! We may have to endure even fiery trials, but we know that the furnace is heated, not to consume, but to purify. In the language of Malachi, "He shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver." Does the refiner throw the precious metals into the flames, and forget them? No, for they are too costly. He is anxious and careful, respecting them. He sits patiently at the door of the furnace, intently watchful. As soon as he sees his own face reflected from the molten metal within, he knows that the process has been successful, and he abates the fury of the flames. So does Jesus watch the furnace of affliction in which His people are being purified, not allowing them to suffer injury and loss, but only waiting to see His own image reflected from their hearts. They come forth as gold seven times purified.
"Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword, separate us from the love of Christ?" The very contrary: they unite us more closely to Him. We not merely survive, but are victorious. "No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us." More than conquerors—not merely remaining in possession of the field, but coming forth unscathed from the conflict, and not merely unscathed, but invigorated. He is indeed a conqueror who, resolutely resisting an attack, wards off every blow so that he suffers no injury, and who, though the conflict may be stern, overthrows, disarms, and tramples under foot his assailant. But if with a generous hand he raises him from the ground and, not content with overcoming his body by superior valor, subdues his spirit also, by superior love, he gains a victory yet more complete. By mastering the foe, he becomes a conqueror; but by converting that foe into a friend, he becomes "more than conqueror."
Such is the victory of the believer. The trials by which he is assailed are not only deprived of all power to injure, but become the principal occasions and instruments of his invigoration, comfort, and salvation. However forbidding their appearance, however rough their salutation, they are bearers of Heaven’s most precious blessings. They wear the aspect of foes only at a distance, and in the beginning of the fight. Soon the Christian warrior embraces them as friends; and the weapons that seemed pointed against him are by faith reversed, and become ranged around him for his defense. His assailants are now his allies; and thus recruited by the encounter, "in all these things he is more than conqueror, through Him that loved us."
The faith, which recognizes in all events the voice of Jesus, is the true alchemy that transmutes all baser substances into gold! However otherwise valueless, even though pernicious and destructive, they now become a precious treasure. In the calculation of his wealth, the believer may include his heaviest trials and keenest sorrows! The apostle Paul says, "All things are yours, the world, life, death, things present, things to come, all are yours." Men do not reckon losses among their possessions. These "all things" are therefore gain to those of whom it may be added "and you are Christ’s." Afflictions therefore, the frowns of 'the world" as well as its smiles; the sorrows of "life" as well as its joys; the sad separations and painful approaches of "death," as well as the heavenly summons it conveys; the storms and struggles of "things present," as well as the calm and the repose of "things to come"—ALL are ours. Were we wise, we would not wish to part with one of them; for who deliberately impoverishes himself? Did we see as God sees, we would understand how they were all working together for our good. But though "we walk by faith, not by sight," may we not be as certain of the result, since God declares it, as if we comprehended the process? The storm is ours!
"There shall no evil befall you, neither shall any plague come near your dwelling" (Ps. 91:10), is a promise to the fullest extent verified in the case of all who "dwell in the secret place of the Most High." To them sorrows are not "evils;" sicknesses are not "plagues." "The shadow of the Almighty," extending far around those who "abide under it" alters the character of all things which come within its influence. Joys are enhanced, and sorrows become joys. The day is brighter, and the night itself is turned to day. Passing through this medium, the lightning, which would have blasted, now only serves to render luminous the path, gilding it with glory; and the poisonous stream, in such an atmosphere as this, not merely loses every noxious quality, but, as it flows by the believer, refreshes, heals, and strengthens him.
Thus the storm is terrible in appearance only. The winds and waves, which beat on the vessel, instead of weakening, make it stronger and more sea-worthy. The buffeting of the billows renders its timbers the more compact. The voyage will be the more prosperous, and the admission into the peaceful harbor at its termination the more triumphant. "For so an entrance shall be ministered unto you abundantly into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ." Trials, however evil in themselves, become invaluable blessings when inflicted by a Father’s hand! Of all the children of God now in glory, it is true that "He led them forth by the right way, that they might go to a city of habitation." It was often a rugged way, a dark way, a mysterious way, a stormy way, but always the right way. It is so still. I may experience it to be a valley of tears through which I pass, but whatever grief I feel, whatever difficulties I encounter, it is the right way, for it is my Father’s way—and who so wise and kind as He? It is the way to the city of God. Every step is necessary to take me nearer to that heavenly home. The very toils of the journey will result in bliss—and how soon will they be over! What a bright dawn will follow the few dark hours during which we may be "tossed by the waves, toiling in rowing, the wind being contrary!" "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning." How short the night compared with the eternal day of which that morning is but the harbinger! Yes, amid the tumult and terror of the tempest, Jesus, rendering all things subservient to our welfare, bids us to be of good cheer, saying, "It is I; do not be afraid."
God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.
You fearful saints, fresh courage take,
The clouds you so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence,
He hides a smiling face.
Moreover, the voice that speaks to us in the storm is that of one who has Himself been tempest-tossed. He was once the "man of sorrows," with an emphasis to which none of His followers can lay claim. There are no trials they endure with which He is not experimentally familiar. He knew what it was to suffer bodily privation. "He had no where to lay His head." He "hungered." He endured the torture and ignominy of the scourge and the cross. "He was despised and rejected of men." His own friends "forsook Him and fled." He endured unutterable anguish of spirit. "It pleased the Lord to bruise Him." "He put Him to grief." "Being in agony He prayed more earnestly." His soul was "exceeding sorrowful, even unto death." He "sweat great drops of blood." On the cross He exclaimed, with a bitter cry, "My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?"
These were real agonies, real temptations. It was not a fictitious storm that burst upon Him. It was not the mere appearance of tempest. The conflict was not imaginary. He was without sin, but not without a struggle against sin. He overcame, not because there was nothing to resist, but because love to His Father was supreme in His breast. The pain of hunger in the desert was real and acute. The inducement to appease that pain was real. So also the agony of the cross was real, and nature must have shrunk from it. But submission to the will of His Father was a stronger principle. Yet the struggle was severe. Else it would not be true that in "all points He was tempted like as we are." There is no degree of suffering, or conflict, which He did not endure. The wind never blew against any bark so furiously as against His! The night was never so dark, the waves never so boisterous, as when he encountered the storm.
What strong consolation is thus presented to afflicted disciples! Jesus is as able to feel for our distress as to deliver us out of it. His is a true sympathy. We do not suffer alone. He bears our grief. What encouragement to "come with boldness to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need," when we know that "we have not a High Priest who cannot be touched with a feeling of our infirmities!" The sorrows which oppress us, weighed more heavily on Him. The foes we battle with more fiercely assailed Him. We but taste the bitter cup; He drained it. There fall on us but a few drops of the tempest, which spent its rage on Him!
If then He, the holy, harmless, undefiled; escaped not the storm, shall we wonder or repine at affliction? In us there is much dross to be consumed; but in Him there was none. If He suffered, not for Himself, but for us, shall not we be content to suffer for ourselves? He consecrated the path of sorrow by His own sacred footsteps, and thus conferred on it a peculiar dignity. As the thorns that lacerated His brow composed a crown, so there is henceforth a majesty in grief, which no earthly joys can boast. The King of kings wore a diadem of pain, and appeared on earth, not as the man of gladness, but "the Man of sorrows." Let us rejoice in being conformed unto our Lord. Should not the servant be like his Master? If He encountered storms, is it fitting we should enjoy unbroken calm?
"If He led through rugged ways, shall we think to traverse only flowery meadows? It is a joyful thing to be a sharer with Christ in anything. All enjoyments wherein He is not, are bitter to a soul that loves Him, and all sufferings with Him, are sweet. The worst things of Christ are more delightful than the best things of the world. His afflictions are sweeter than its pleasures. Love delights in likeness, not only in things pleasant, but also in the hardest things, which have nothing in them desirable but only that likeness. What does the world by its hatred, but make us more like Him? When He was sought to be made a king, He escaped; but when He was sought to be brought to the cross, He freely yielded Himself. And shall I creep back from what He calls me to suffer? Has He not gone through all before, and made all easy and lovely? Has He not sweetened poverty, persecution, hatred, disgrace, and death itself—perfumed the grave, and turned it from a pit of horror into a sweet resting bed?" (Leighton)
"It is I!" Jesus calls our attention to Himself. He says not "Be of good cheer; you are skillful, strong, persevering, and well able to cope with the storm"—but "Be of good cheer; it is I." Our rigging may be rent, our sails torn, our rudder lost, our vessel dismasted, leaky, and almost a wreck; but when Jesus says "It is I," we cannot sink. Nothing can injure us with Him—nothing save us without Him! A babe and Christ can master the universe. But the babe does nothing, Christ everything. In our carnal pride we would be doing everything—pumping, rowing, shifting the sails, as though by our own efforts we could escape. But Christ will make us know how vain are all our labors without Him. He alone can save.
When the angel of destruction smote Egypt’s firstborn, but passed over the houses of the Israelites, the feeble infant was as safe as the vigorous man was, if the blood was sprinkled on the doorposts. The strength of the vigorous man could not have defended him. The helplessness of the feeble infant could not have endangered him. So the blood of Christ is our only and all-sufficient safeguard. When Jesus was in the ship with His disciples, the weakest of them was as safe as the strongest, for the security of all was the same—the presence of their Lord. So if He is with us in the storm, our safety is not affected by anything in ourselves, but is absolutely guaranteed by Him. "It is I!" Whatever our unworthiness, however weak our faith, Christ is our deliverer; and "He is able to save to the uttermost." A helpless disciple, holding the hand of a mighty Savior, will come forth unhurt out of every storm. Jesus says, "My grace is sufficient for you: for My strength is made perfect in weakness." With the apostle let me respond, and say, "Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in necessities, in distresses: for when I am weak, then am I strong" (2 Cor. 12:7-10).
"It is I!" This was a voice the efficacy of which the disciples had often witnessed. It had said, "Arise; take up your bed, and walk," and the poor cripple was made whole. It had said, "Be opened," and the ears of the deaf were unstopped. It had said to the leper, "Be clean," and "immediately his leprosy departed from him." It had said, "Go out of him," and the demoniac was restored to his right mind. It had said, "Arise," and "he who was dead sat up, and began to speak." It had just blessed the five loaves and the two fish—and twelve baskets full of fragments remained after five thousand had feasted. And the disciples had been before in a storm, when Jesus was asleep in the hinder part of the ship. "They were in jeopardy," for "the ship was covered with the waves." But when Jesus rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, "Peace; be still," the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. Might not the disciples reasonably dispel their fears, when a voice, which had always been so mighty said, "Be of good cheer"?
Afflicted believer, is the voice that addresses you altogether strange? Can you not call to mind many a storm in which it has dispelled your fears and soothed your sorrows? Does not the history of the Church in all ages testify to the wonderful deliverances Christ has effected for His people! Have not His followers always been tossed with tempests? Yet has not the Lord delivered out of them all? It is not more certain that Christians have always been an afflicted people, than that Jesus has always been with them to preserve them amid the tempest. How great the cloud of witnesses who testify to His constant care and unchanging love! How innumerable the multitudes who have come out of great tribulation, and now, clothed in white clothing, ascribe salvation to God and the Lamb!
Yes! It is a voice that has never spoken in vain! Be of good cheer, afflicted disciple! Think what He has already done for you! He groaned, bled, and died for you. You were lost, but He found you; an enemy, but He reconciled you; a captive, but He freed you; blind, but He cured you; dead, but He quickened you. He washed you from your guilt in His own blood. He clothed you with His own white robe. He renewed your corrupt nature. He imparted to you His sanctifying and comforting Spirit. He introduced you to the Father, and you became a child of God. He now intercedes for you, is preparing for you a mansion of glory. "For God has reserved a priceless inheritance for his children. It is kept in heaven for you, pure and undefiled, beyond the reach of change and decay." How often has He spoken to you in tones of tenderness! How has your heart burned within you as He has walked with you in the way! What peace and joy have you experienced while He has held converse with your soul! Has not He turned your mourning into dancing, your night into day, and your tempest into calm already?
Having done so much for you, will He now leave you to perish? May you not with confidence use the same argument with which Manoah was comforted by his wife, when, having been visited by the angel of Jehovah, he feared they would be destroyed? "If the Lord were pleased to kill us, He would not have received a burned offering and a food offering at our hands, neither would He have showed us all these things." Would Jesus have done so much for you already—would He have called you by His grace, renewed you by His Spirit, comforted you by His love, and preserved you to this day, if He intended now to abandon you? If He sought you when a stranger, will He not take care of you now that you are a child? If the foe was loved, how much more the friend! "If, when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son, how much more, being reconciled, we shall be saved by His life!" Will He refuse to answer the prayers He Himself has prompted, to fulfill the hopes He Himself has inspired, to honor the confidence He Himself has encouraged, to complete the work He Himself has begun? No! Former mercies are a sure pledge of the future inheritance, former deliverances a certain pledge of final safety! Amid the howling of the storm, let this be your song—
His love in time past forbids me to think
He’ll leave me at last, in trouble to sink;
Each sweet Ebenezer I have in review
Confirms his good pleasure to bring me quite through.
How unreasonable is it for a disciple of Jesus to worry! We are told to cast all our burdens on Him, "for He cares for us." How unnecessary to do that for ourselves which is so much better done by Him! He has undertaken to do all for us which not only our safety but our happiness requires. His infinite love prompts Him always to choose what His infinite wisdom sees to be best for us, while His infinite power enables Him to accomplish it. Are we not perfectly safe then in such keeping? Suppose we could control the elements, and that for some important object we had called forth a storm. If we were in a vessel that could not sink, we would contemplate the raging waters with pleasure, knowing that they were fulfilling our own intentions, and that a perfect calm would ensue the moment that we gave the word. But this is actually true—only the ruling of the storm is in the hands of Jesus instead of our own. Shall we be less courageous on this account? Doesn’t He know much better than we the special purposes for which the storm is needed, and the precise moment when its tempest should be allayed? Should we not rely with fullest confidence on His watchful care, and rejoice, however loud the tempest, that it can accomplish only our good, having no power to do us harm?
"It is I!" Oh, how should all anxieties subside at the sound! Are they caused by the cares of this life? Jesus says, "So I tell you, don't worry about everyday life—whether you have enough food, drink, and clothes. Doesn't life consist of more than food and clothing? Look at the birds. They don't need to plant or harvest or put food in barns because your heavenly Father feeds them. And you are far more valuable to him than they are. Can all your worries add a single moment to your life? Of course not. And why worry about your clothes? Look at the lilies and how they grow. They don't work or make their clothing, yet Solomon in all his glory was not dressed as beautifully as they are. And if God cares so wonderfully for flowers that are here today and gone tomorrow, won't he more surely care for you? You have so little faith!" "All things work together for good to those who love God." "For the angel of the Lord guards all who fear him, and he rescues them." "Even strong young lions sometimes go hungry, but those who trust in the Lord will never lack any good thing." "The righteous face many troubles, but the Lord rescues them from each and every one." (Matt. 6:25-34; Rom. 8:28; Ps. 34:7, 10, 19).
Why then should Christians fear? And if Jesus cares for the body, how much more will He supply the needs of the soul! Is not His assurance, "My grace is sufficient for you," encouragement enough in every extremity? Has He not undertaken everything for the sinner? Is He not made to us "wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption?" However "poor and wretched, and miserable, and blind, and naked" in ourselves, are we not "complete in Him?" What could He say that He has left unsaid, to calm our apprehensions? "O afflicted one, tossed with tempest, and not comforted, I hid My face from you for a moment; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on you. For the mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed; but My kindness shall not depart from you, neither shall the covenant of My peace be removed, says the Lord that has mercy on you. Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you. I have called you by name; you are mine. When you go through deep waters and great trouble, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown! When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you. For I am the Lord, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior!" He is faithful who has promised. He cannot deny Himself. Heaven and earth shall pass away, but His words shall not pass away; and He has said of all His people, "I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any one pluck them out of My hand" (Isa. 54:6-17; 43:1-3; John 10:28).
Let us but believe these promises, and there will be a great calm. As when the disciples "received Jesus into the ship, the wind ceased, and immediately they were at the land where they went," so when we by faith fully receive Christ into our hearts, the raging of the storm is over. The external troubles may continue, but can produce no tempest within. The believer is "kept in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on God." One of the martyrs, exposed to public derision in an iron cage, is reported to have said to a bystander, who expressed surprise at the cheerfulness he manifested, "You can see these bars, but you cannot hear the music in my conscience." So the world, looking only at the outward affliction, may see no abatement of the hurricane, and may wonder at the composure the Christian exhibits in the midst of it. They hear the thunder, and the roaring of the winds and waves, but cannot distinguish the voice of Jesus saying, "It is I," which so cheers the tossed disciple. They can view the outward trouble, but not the inward consolation of the life "hidden with Christ." It is "the peace of God, which passes all understanding."
Let us then reply to the promises of God in the exulting language of faith. Let songs of praise arise from the ark in which we are securely borne along amid the storm. "God is our refuge and strength, always ready to help in times of trouble. So we will not fear, even if earthquakes come and the mountains crumble into the sea. Let the oceans roar and foam. Let the mountains tremble as the waters surge! I hear the tumult of the raging seas as your waves and surging tides sweep over me. Yet the Lord will command His loving-kindness in the daytime, and in the night His song shall be with me, and my prayer unto the God of my life. O Lord God Almighty! Where is there anyone as mighty as you, Lord? Faithfulness is your very character. You are the one who rules the oceans. When their waves rise in fearful storms, you subdue them! Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you disturbed within me? I will put my hope in God! I will praise him again—my Savior and my God! (Ps. 46:1-3; 42:7-8, 11; 89:8-9)
When conscience accuses, hear Him say, "It is I! I, who have fully atoned for your sins! I, who have blotted them all out by My blood!" When the thought of God alarms, listen to His voice: "It is I! I, who have made peace by the blood of the cross! I, by whom the just God becomes the justifier of the ungodly!" When the painful conviction of shortcomings, after all our striving, overwhelms, again He says, "It is I! I, whose white robe will cover all your filthy rags! I, from whose perfect obedience, and not from your own unworthiness, you are to look for acceptance with God!" When a sense of weakness, and inability to cope with the many difficulties and dangers which surround us, depresses the mind, again His voice is heard, "It is I! I, who have engaged to perform all things for you! I, who will never leave you nor forsake you!"
"It is I!" This is enough to satisfy every doubt, to quell every fear, to meet every difficulty. Am I guilty? Jesus receives the chief of sinners! Am I helpless? Jesus is able to save to the uttermost! Am I lost? Jesus "came to seek and to save the lost!" Have I no merits? Jesus is "made to us righteousness!" Have I nothing? In Jesus, "all fullness dwells!" He died for me; He lives to intercede for me; He watches over, strengthens, supports me; He guides me in darkness, cheers me in sorrow, defends me in danger, and is preparing a place for me in heaven! If He is with me, what can injure me? If He is for me, who can be against me? The winds and the waves may roar around, but they have no power to harm me while Jesus says, "It is I!"
And when the last storm of life assails me, He will still be at hand. "Yes, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff they comfort me." It will not be a dark valley, if His form appears in it; it will not be dreary, if His voice is heard. There is no such thing as death to the believer. "He who believes in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and he that lives and believes in Me, shall never die."
Jesus, by His own dying, extracted the sting from death, and deprived it of all power to injure. "He destroyed death, and delivered them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage." We can echo the sentiment of a departing saint, who said, "I can smile on death, because Jesus smiles on me." Or rather death disappears, and Christ alone is seen. He holds the keys of the invisible world, and is present at the deathbed of every saint, to liberate the spirit from the corruptible body, and to receive it into the "house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens."
Let this be our consolation when we mourn over those who sleep in Jesus. It is not an enemy who has done this. It is no frightful monster who has torn that dear one from our loving embrace. It was a Brother’s arms that received the departing spirit. He commits the important office to no inferior messenger, far less to an enemy. "I will come again, and receive you unto Myself." The dying Stephen beheld Him, when he said, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." Yes, it is Jesus! In that chamber of anxiety and tears, where the feeble tide of ebbing life is watched so tenderly, and all is being done that skill and kindness can suggest to delay the dreaded moment of separation, Jesus is saying, "It is I!" In that darkened abode, where the activity of love no longer holds back the floodgates of grief, Jesus whispers, "It is I!" At that sad funeral procession, each advancing step of which seems as though it were conveying the mourners to their own burial, Jesus—as at Nain—touches the coffin, and says to the widow, the fatherless, the friendless, "It is I." At the open grave, where with that dead body are to be sepulchered so many living joys and hopes, Jesus—as at Bethany—stands among the mourners and, while weeping with them, allays their sorrow, saying, "It is I." Yes, it is Jesus who has taken away the departed spirit, to the full enjoyment of a love still tenderer than theirs, in a world where tears are never shed, and pain is never felt, and death is forever unknown! Let us then be consoled by the thought of the instantaneous and perfect bliss of those whose separation from us we lament. Amid the storm, in which we lose sight for a season of those who were dearer than life itself,
This is the solace to our sorrow given,
That they were borne on tempest’s wing to heaven,
And are rejoicing, midst the pure and free,
In the high home of God, where there is no more sea!
This consideration should be enough to sustain our minds when a similar tempest bursts upon us. Death to the disciple is Jesus. Every symptom of increasing disease only proves that Jesus is nearer. The clouds may seem dark, the thunder terrible, the waves overwhelming; but they only betoken the near approach of our heavenly Friend. He speaks amid the tumult, and says, "It is I!—I, who, having prepared your mansion, have come to take you to Myself! Be of good cheer; it is I; do not be afraid!" Shall we shrink from His embrace? Shall we not rather rejoice that our deliverance draws near, knowing that to depart and be with Jesus is far better?
The author, being recently at Scarborough, during tempestuous weather, observed early in the morning two small fishing vessels approaching the harbor. The crews had been exposed to the gale for several days, and their strength and provisions were nearly exhausted. How eagerly they longed for the plenty, and security, and repose, which seemed now so near! But such furious breakers raged round the pier, that it was obvious to those on shore that to attempt an entrance would be destruction. The cliff was hastily scaled, a beacon kindled, and signals made that they must again stay out to sea. In a few minutes the warning would be too late. There was a moment’s anxious suspense. Then the little vessels were seen reluctantly to alter their coarse and, disappointed in their hopes, their exhausted crews had again to face the storm!
How happy the contrast in the case of the disciple of Christ! The fury of the tempest, instead of driving him from his strong refuge, makes him only the more welcome there. The harbor of Christ’s love is always accessible! The greater our distress, the readier our entrance! And the final resting place—the heaven of glory, where that love is fully manifested, and where those who enter are secure from all future perils—is full in view when the great and final tempest bursts over us. How invitingly does it spread itself out before the eye of faith! How perfect the peace, how unbroken the calm, how ineffable the bliss which are experienced there! No tears are shed, no alarm is felt, no temptations assail there! The beacon blazes, not to repel, but to allure! Angels beckon us to approach! Jesus bids us not be dismayed! For the last time, he says, "Be of good cheer; it is I!" No disciple ever suffered shipwreck in endeavoring to enter there. The tempest that rages outside only drives the laboring vessel more quickly in. Those waves only bear the soul more rapidly home. That hurricane only wafts the spirit more triumphantly to God! How brief the struggle, how long the repose! "After you have suffered awhile, eternal glory!" Of the accumulated trials of the longest life, we may say, with such a prospect, "For our present troubles are quite small and won't last very long. Yet they produce for us an immeasurably great glory that will last forever! So we don't look at the troubles we can see right now; rather, we look forward to what we have not yet seen. For the troubles we see will soon be over, but the joys to come will last forever." "O death, where is your sting? O grave, where is your victory?"
Lord, I believe! Help my unbelief! Pity and pardon the fears of your poor, weak, trembling disciple! Help me to behold You more clearly, more constantly! May I hear Your voice both in the tempest and the calm. Let the kind assurance, "It is I," always be enough to gladden my heart. Often have You said, "Come unto Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden; and I will give you rest." Lord, I would now accept Your gracious call. I bring You nothing but a burden of guilt and wretchedness! Naked, vile, undone, just as I am, I come! And I know You will not cast me out. From the midst of the waves, I look up to You! I am come into deep waters! The winds are boisterous, the tempest is high! Outward woes, inward conflicts, assail my feeble bark! I must soon sink without Your promised help! Save me, O God, for the waters are come in unto my soul! Let not the flood-waters overflow me, neither let the deep swallow me up! The sorrows of my heart are enlarged: oh, bring me out of my distresses! Lord, save me, or I perish! Rebuke the waves! Bring me out of many waters! Let the light of Your love disperse the darkness! Let the thunder of the storm be hushed by Your voice, saying, "It is I; do not be afraid!"
Jesus! lover of my soul,
Let me to Your bosom fly,
While the nearer waters roll,
While the tempest still is high.
Hide me, O my Savior, hide,
Until the storm of life is past:
Safe into the haven guide:
O receive my soul at last!"
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