McGee, J. Vernon: On Comfort :
Words of Hope for the Hurting. electronic ed. Nashville : Thomas
Nelson Publishers, 2000, c1994, S. 1
—— 2 ——
CHANGING BITTER WATERS TO SWEET
So Moses brought Israel from the Red Sea,
and they went out into the wilderness of Shur; and they went
three days in the wilderness, and found no water. And when they
came to Marah, they could not drink of the waters of Marah, for
they were bitter; therefore the name of it was called Marah. And
the people murmured against Moses, saying, What shall we drink?
And he cried unto the
Lord;
and the
Lord
showed him a tree, which when he had cast into the waters, the
waters were made sweet…. (Exodus
15:22–25)*
This remarkable experience of the people of
Israel is our subject, but to get into the water I want to use a
springboard, and it’s over in the letter which the apostle Paul
sent to Christians in Corinth. It is this statement:
Now all these things happened unto them
for examples, and they are written for our admonition, upon whom
the ends of the ages are come. (1
Corinthians 10:11)
After reciting how God provided both food and
drink for Israel during their long trek through the wilderness,
Paul makes a surprising declaration. He says that their
experiences were recorded for us! Why? They are examples for you
and me as we walk the pilgrim pathway through the wilderness of
this world. And then he gives us an admonition in the next
verse:
Wherefore, let him that thinketh he
standeth take heed lest he fall.
(1 Corinthians 10:12)
Now what the children of Israel experienced
while going through the wilderness corresponds to our Christian
experience. You can translate what happened to them over to the
lives of believers today. We can expect to encounter the same
problems and expect the same solutions to work for us. Every
believer is going to experience his own particular version of
what happened to these people in the wilderness.
Recorded here are seven definite experiences
that the people of Israel encountered as they journeyed from the
Red Sea to Mount Sinai. In this message we will look at three of
them. And these are common experiences of Christians,
experiences that are shared by all of us.
Now I do not believe that
any child of
God can escape going through any of these experiences. They come
normally and naturally into our lives. Therefore it will be
profitable for you and me to follow the children of Israel for
just a little way into the wilderness. I think we shall learn
something by so doing.
When they crossed the Red Sea, they crossed
as a redeemed people. I would emphasize that, because something
we need to understand is that God had redeemed them by blood and
by power out of the land of Egypt. And when they had crossed
over the Red Sea and come safely to the other side, they sang
the song of Moses. Up to that point they murmured and
complained—they actually wanted to go back into Egypt, back to
the brickyards. But then God marvelously and miraculously opened
the Red Sea—due to the faith of Moses—and they crossed over.
Then these people believed, they entered the
wilderness by faith, and they could sing the song of Moses. Let
me lift out only a couple of verses to show that they were a
redeemed people and understood this fact.
The
Lord
is my strength and song, and he is become my salvation; he is my
God, and I will prepare him an habitation; my father’s God, and
I will exalt him. (Exodus 15:2)
Having crossed the Red Sea, they could say:
“God is my salvation.” They were a saved people, if you please.
Thou in thy mercy hast led forth the
people whom thou hast redeemed; thou hast guided them in thy
strength unto thy holy habitation.
(Exodus 15:13)
They are calling themselves a redeemed
people, saved and redeemed. They have crossed the Red Sea and
are singing as a redeemed people.
It’s interesting that as you go through the
Word of God you will find that only redeemed people sing—I mean
sing praise to God with joy, and sing from the heart. Anybody
can sing the blues, but to sing from the heart with joy you must
be a redeemed person. So they began their march through the
wilderness with a song and great joy.
How inexpressibly wonderful this was! All
their lives they had been slaves in the land of Egypt, without a
ray of hope on the horizon that they would ever be free. They
were born into the brickyards of Egypt, and they would stay
there until death. There was no hope, not a flicker of hope.
Then something wonderful happened! Moses
appeared back in the land of Egypt and said, “God has sent me.”
And through the plagues of judgment upon Egypt, God brought
these people out, redeeming them by blood on that night of the
Passover and by power at the Red Sea when they crossed over.
Imagine … now this tremendous company of
people start through the wilderness, and they don’t have to go
back into the brickyards to make brick. No longer will they feel
the lash of the taskmaster. No longer will they groan under the
burdens of Egypt. They are free! And they sing a song of
redemption. Read all of their song in Exodus 15. It’s wonderful!
But then they were confronted with their
first wilderness experience.
NO WATER
So Moses brought Israel from the Red Sea,
and they went out into the wilderness of Shur; and they went
three days in the wilderness, and found no water.
(Exodus 15:22)
Now that’s bad, isn’t it? Here is a redeemed
people and they start out through the wilderness according to
God’s instruction. They go three days without finding water. And
they are crossing an arid and bleak wasteland, a desert that’s
as dry as anything in Arizona or California. It’s
bad, if you
please.
Moses came to know that wilderness well.
After living in it for forty years keeping sheep for his
father–in–law, he spent another forty years there with the
people of Israel! Eighty years in a wilderness puts a man in the
position of being an authority, and near the end of those years
this is the way Moses labeled the place in the Book of
Deuteronomy: “that great and
terrible wilderness” (1:19). And
again in 32:10, “the waste, howling wilderness!” That’s what it
was. Lack of water was one of their biggest problems—if God had
not provided for them, they would have perished.
They traveled for three days and all of their
supply was exhausted. I’m sure that most of the families had a
little jug or a little canteen filled with water which they had
brought out with them from the land of Egypt. But it’s all gone
now. And oh, they have a vehement craving for something to
drink. They’re parched, they’re desperate—three days and no
water.
BUT WHY?
Now, my beloved, their experience is contrary
to the accepted notion which people have even today of how life
should be for the child of God. Here is the way it would have
happened if you were reading a fairy tale: Every thorn on every
cactus in that wilderness would be taken off. Every sharp stone
would be removed from their pathway. The mountains would be
smoothed out and the valleys would be filled in, and God’s
chosen people would go through the wilderness with no problems,
no difficulties, no hardships—not a care, not a burden, not a
sigh nor a tear.
Isn’t that the way we hear some people
present the Christian life today? According to them, if you have
become a Christian you have solved all your problems and all
your difficulties, and from here on, brother, it’s easy sailing.
But the moment the children of Israel were
redeemed and got on the other side of the Red Sea, they were
faced with bigger problems than they ever had in the land of
Egypt.
There was a certain freedom in slavery. And
you know there is a certain slavery in freedom. After all, in
Egypt they didn’t worry about where they lived, they didn’t
worry about what they ate, they didn’t worry about their drink,
because the man who owned them took care of that.
May I say, friend, any kind of a welfare
state will eventually make a slave of the individual. America is
today moving rapidly toward becoming a welfare state. And a
great many are not even conscious of what is really taking place
right now in this land of ours. We are losing our liberties on
every hand. The minute somebody else takes charge of you, that
very moment you lose your liberty and you become a slave.
NEW THIRST
Egypt was called the breadbasket of the
ancient world. That was the reason the patriarch Jacob and his
sons moved down there in the first place. The famine was
throughout the world in their day, and they went down to Egypt
because that was the only place where they could get grain.
In the land of Egypt there was water and
there was grain in abundance. Egypt did not have to depend on
rainfall, they depended on the river Nile—they even worshiped
it! It overflowed its banks every spring and there was water in
abundance. In Egypt you could fill your teakettle anytime you
wanted to. But for the people of Israel out there on that torrid
desert, the cisterns of Egypt are far behind them, and suddenly
their source of supply is cut off. They find themselves under
different circumstances. In the wilderness there is always a
scarcity of water, and it’s a long way from one oasis to another
oasis. They have not yet found the fountain of living waters. It
will take them a little while to do that.
The interesting thing is, they are having a
legitimate experience. It was normal and natural—certainly there
is nothing wrong with thirsting. And they are not out there in
that wilderness because of some sin in their lives, and they are
not out of the will of God. They are very much
in the will of
God—and yet they went three days thirsty. You explain that.
May I say to you, the Bible is a mirror for
every child of God to look into. Paul said, “All these things
happened unto them for examples unto us.” There are a thousand
other experiences that Moses could have recorded. He recorded
only seven because they are examples for us. My, we ought to
learn the lessons because this thirsting is the experience of
every born–again child of God.
If you are a child of God, am I not now
describing your experience? After you were redeemed—after that
time you came to Christ and you received Him as Savior and
things became different—didn’t you find that the cisterns of
Egypt failed to satisfy you? Isn’t that what happened? Remember
how, right after you were saved, you attempted to continue in
the same lifestyle and it didn’t work, it didn’t satisfy. Wasn’t
that your experience?
Then there was that period of soul–thirst, a
yearning and a passion for the things of God. At first you had
trouble finding satisfaction—perhaps still you have not found
it. Sooner or later, though, if you are a child of God you are
going to find where the fountain is.
I remember that many of those who were saved
years ago when Billy Graham had his first campaign here in Los
Angeles went into liberal churches. One man told me, “I went to
a dozen churches!” He was saved but he knew almost nothing about
the Bible. And you talk about going three days in the wilderness
without water, this man almost died of thirst! Then somebody,
out of a clear blue sky, said, “Why don’t you go down to the
Church of the Open Door in Los Angeles? That preacher down there
is a rank fundamentalist.” But this man came anyway and stayed
because he was thirsty, and he found the water of the Word here.
The apostle Paul said after he was converted,
“What things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ …
and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the
knowledge of Christ Jesus, my Lord….” Then he goes on to reveal
his great longing and thirst: “That I may know him, and the
power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings
…” (Philippians 3:7, 8, 10). In other words, Paul said, “When I
came to Christ it revolutionized my bookkeeping system—what was
loss became gain, and what was gain became loss. It turned me
inside out and upside down and rightside up. Oh, that I might
know
Him.” How thirsty he was to know his Lord better!
And Simon Peter, when many other of the
Lord’s disciples left Him and the Lord asked him if he would
leave also, Simon Peter replied, “Lord, to whom shall we go?
Thou hast the words of eternal life” (John 6:68).
Later Peter wrote, “As newborn babes, desire
the pure milk of the word …” (1 Peter 2:2). Have you ever seen a
little one in a crib when Mother gets the formula ready and then
puts it in the bottle and holds it up? If you have ever seen
perpetual motion, that is it. There’s not a muscle in that
little body that isn’t moving: hands, feet, mouth,
eyes—everything is saying, “Give it to me!”
There was a convention of doctors here in Los
Angeles some time back, and one of them called me and said, “Can
I have lunch with you on Thursday?” I had talked with him
before; he was saved about three years earlier. He held a
doctor’s degree, but spiritually he was a babe. So we went down
to the Biltmore Hotel, and after we sat down and ordered, he
said, “I want to tell you my experience.” My, was he thirsty!
Believe me, friend, he knew what it was to go three days in the
wilderness without water.
Our Lord spoke to the woman of Samaria about
this matter:
Jesus answered, and said unto her,
Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again; but
whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall
never thirst, but the water that I shall give him shall be in
him a well of water springing up into everlasting life. The
woman saith unto him, Sir, give me this water….
(John 4:13–15)
She was thirsty.
Our Lord stood on that great day of the feast
in the temple and said, “If any man thirst, let him come unto
me, and drink” (John 7:37).
While I was pastor of Church of the Open Door
we had a Thursday night Bible Study that was very successful
because of the fact that we had so many people there who were
thirsty—the new converts. I enjoyed teaching them. The old
saints—well, they had been filled up and nothing was running
out, I guess. But the new ones, they were so thirsty! A couple
told me one night, “We drive fifty miles every Thursday night,
and we can hardly wait from one Thursday night to another.” A
lot of folk, though, had no trouble waiting. Our Lord said,
“Blessed are they who do hunger and thirst after righteousness;
for they shall be filled” (Matthew 5:6). I believe that
thirsting is the experience of every new believer who goes three
days in the wilderness without water.
And, my friend, it might be well to go back
to the Red Sea to determine if you really crossed it, to see
whether you are redeemed. If you are God’s child, you can’t go
through the wilderness of this world without water and not get
thirsty.
This is the first lesson we are to learn from
Israel’s wilderness experience.
BITTER WATER
I come now to the second experience. Note it
very carefully:
And when they came to Marah, they could
not drink of the waters of Marah, for they were bitter;
therefore the name of it was called Marah.
(Exodus 15:23)
Marah means
“bitter.” If you have read the story of the Manley party that
first came into California’s Death Valley, you will remember how
frightened they were when they got down into that valley and
found only bitter water which they could not drink. They
immediately sent scouts out of that valley to try to find good
water.
When the people of Israel (there are more
than two million of them at this time) come to Marah the water
is bitter and they cannot drink it. Remember—oh, keep
remembering—that they are redeemed people. They are on the line
of march. God had marked their route on the map, and they are
following it. They are not out of the will of God. They are at
Marah because God sent them to Marah.
And will you listen to me very carefully:
Bitter experiences come to the child of God after conversion. I
do not know how to explain it, but I know it happens. It is
puzzling and perplexing. How many times have you heard this from
a new convert, “Why does God let this happen to me?”
The apostle Peter, who knew something about
suffering, said,
Beloved, think it not strange concerning
the fiery trial which is to test you, as though some strange
thing happened unto you. (1 Peter
4:12)
He didn’t write as if something was
going to
happen; he wrote it in the present tense. He said that it
is happening
to you new converts. You are
having trouble. Trials do
come to a new convert.
Now I can’t explain it, but I can give this
word of comfort: God is not punishing you, and you don’t need to
ask, “Why does God let this happen to me?” God is educating you,
God is preparing you for something. In the pathway of every
believer there is a Marah. Have you come to yours yet? If you
haven’t, it’s out there ahead of you. Many of you have been
there. Some of you are there right now.
But I have good news for you—Marah is merely
a camping ground. It isn’t suburbia, it isn’t a place to
live—it’s merely a camping ground. God brings you to Marah, but
He won’t leave you at Marah. But let me say again, He will bring
you there. In the pathway of every believer there is marah,
bitterness.
While at my first pastorate in Nashville,
Tennessee, I was holding meetings in a little place I’m sure
you’ve never heard of named Woodbury. It’s in the hills of
middle Tennessee, and it’s a county seat.
There was an elder in that church, a doctor.
I learned to love that man. He and I hunted squirrels together
many times.
One night after I had spoken on the passage
where our Lord sends the disciples out into a storm, he said to
me, “I’ll come over tonight and talk with you.” And so he came
over after he had made a house call.
The manse that I lived in was an old–time
house built before the Civil War and had a great, big fireplace.
That evening we sat together around a brisk fire. The pastor was
there with his wife, and the doctor came in and sat down with
us.
He said, “You know, I went away to college to
study to go as a medical missionary. And when I finished
medicine, I went before the board. They examined me, and they
said, ‘You cannot go. Your health will not permit you to go to a
foreign field.’ ” He said, “Why, I had prepared all my life to
go as a missionary, and now I am told I can’t go! Honestly, in
bitterness I came way up here to this little town.”
I asked him, “Is the bitterness over?”
“Oh, yes,” he said. “I got over it years
ago.”
“Do you think God was in that experience?”
“Oh, yes, I know that now.”
That doctor had taken twelve young men in
that town, led them to the Lord and sent them away to college. A
half dozen of them had become medical doctors, and the other six
had trained and were on the field as missionaries.
And I learned that the little town of
Woodbury sort of rested on that doctor’s shoulders. I never
walked down the street with him but what somebody didn’t stop to
ask him something—not just about their health, but about
everything! If they were going to sell a cow or a pig, they
would ask his opinion!
May I say to you, how bitter it was for that
young doctor to be told that he couldn’t go as a medical
missionary. God brought him down by Marah, but He didn’t leave
him there. He led him down there so He could really use him. And
He did use him.
When I heard of his death years later, I
wondered how Woodbury, Tennessee, got along without him. I’m
sure they survived, but they missed him. My, how important he
was in that little town.
God brings His own down by Marah, if you
please.
I’ll tell you another experience I had in my
own ministry, which has been quite limited. At the church in
Nashville, when I was there, the superintendent of the junior
department was a maiden lady. She had premature gray hair, and I
mean it was genuine. You can’t tell today. It’s gotten so that
if a woman has gray hair it means she’s young. If she’s a blonde
or brunette or redhead—well, you don’t know if that’s her
natural color or not. But in that day gray hair really meant
something.
She was one of the most wonderful people I
ever met. Very few of the juniors she taught went to the mission
field, but they all went out into life to live for God. She
followed them closely and she had an influence.
She was a beautiful woman, and I asked the
superintendent of the Sunday school, “Why in the world didn’t
Miss Anna May get married?” He told me her story: “Before World
War I, there was a young man here in this church, a fine–looking
young man. They started going together and they got engaged.
Then the war started and he was put in uniform. We all went down
to the train station to see him off. I never shall forget how
tenderly he told her good–bye. But he didn’t come back. He was
killed in the battle of the Marne and he’s buried over there.
She took his picture down, put away every remembrance of him and
said, ‘I will never marry.’ And she didn’t.”
There aren’t many girls like that today,
fellows, I’ll tell you. Oh, she was the real article. Later when
the superintendent and the pastor went over to see her and asked
her to take charge of the children in the junior department, she
said, “I’ve been praying that God would give me something to do.
I’ll take it. It will be my life’s work.”
God always brings His own down to the bitter
waters of Marah so that He can use them later on. And, oh, how
useful she was! Hundreds of boys and girls were influenced by
her.
When I first came to Los Angeles, I met a
lawyer who told me, “Preacher, when I was first converted, I got
my eye on a preacher and he disappointed me. I became bitter and
cynical. I almost turned my back on God. How bitter I got!” Then
he said, “I found out that you can’t put your confidence in mere
humans, Christian or not.” This lawyer learned a very important
lesson: You don’t look to man, you look to God. Keep your eyes
on Christ.
Oh, the frustration! Oh, the keen
disappointment and the bitter experiences that come to God’s
children! And there are times when the world tumbles in on us
and we wonder what to do next.
Maybe you have a little grave out on the
hillside that is your Marah. Or maybe back yonder in your life
you had some other experience that embittered you. God have
mercy on you if you are still hanging around Marah. God never
intends His children to stay there.
The question is: What do you do with your
Marahs? How do you meet them? Notice what the children of Israel
did first. “And the people murmured against Moses, saying, What
shall we drink?”
Oh, how many times when an experience becomes
bitter have you and I said, “Lord, why? Why do You let this
happen to me? Why do these bitter waters have to be in my life?”
Notice what Moses did:
And he cried unto the
Lord;
and the
Lord
showed him a tree, which when he had cast into the waters, the
waters were made sweet: there he made for them a statute and an
ordinance, and there he tested them.
(Exodus 15:25)
Is there a natural explanation for this?
Well, I’ve heard the formula for such a chemical reaction. I sat
in the class of a wonderful scholar who said that actually there
is a tree that grows out there in that Sinai Peninsula which
when put in bitter water will make it sweet. You can have that
for what it’s worth. I can give you the formula, but it’s not
worth that to me, because I believe this was a miracle. That
tree turned the bitter waters into sweet, if you please. What is
that tree for us today? That tree is the cross of Christ.
Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of
the law, being made a curse for us; for it is written, Cursed is
everyone that hangeth on a tree.
(Galatians 3:13)
And He went to the tree. Oh, my friend, He
was falsely accused, He was lied about, He was blasphemed, He
was shamefully treated. He bore every bit of it, and He bore the
curse of sin—yours and mine, if you please. It wasn’t His at
all. On that tree He tasted death for every person of the human
family.
Do you remember the record in John 18 that
tells us about the armed mob that came to Gethsemane to arrest
the Lord? Simon Peter was so zealous for his Lord that he wanted
to protect Him the best he could. He drew his sword and he tried
to use it.
Then said Jesus unto Peter, Put up thy
sword into the sheath; the cup which my Father hath given me,
shall I not drink it? (John 18:11)
Bitter! Oh, it was bitter. And every time I
drink from the cup at communion I try to concentrate on the
sweetness. As I taste that sweetness I think of the cup He
drank. His was a bitter cup—that cup belonged to me. He took
my
cup, the bitter cup, that I might have the
sweet cup. He
did that for me.
Paul can write to you and me today, “O death,
where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?” (1
Corinthians 15:55). Our Lord went to the cross, and He removed
the bitterness, if you please. He bore the curse. Will you
listen to Simon Peter again, because you and I are going to have
difficulties unless we put the cross of Christ into the bitter
experiences of life.
Beloved, think it not strange concerning
the fiery trial which is to test you
[or which is testing or trying you],
as though some strange thing happened unto
you, but rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ’s
sufferings, that, when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be
glad also with exceeding joy. (1
Peter 4:12, 13)
You and I, when the bitter experience comes,
will be made bitter unless we bring the cross of Christ to bear
in that experience.
Must Jesus bear the cross alone and all
the world go free?
No, there’s a cross for everyone, and
there’s a cross for me.
How we need to accept that and translate it
into life when the bitter experiences come to us!
ELIM
We come now to the third wilderness
experience, and we’ll make it the last for this message. There
were seven of them; these are only the first three.
And they came to Elim, where were twelve
wells of water, and threescore and ten palm trees; and they
encamped there by the waters.
(Exodus 15:27)
Elim means “palm trees,” and at Elim they had
seventy of them! And beside that, they had twelve wells of
water! That was some oasis, wasn’t it?
Elim suggests abundant blessing and
fruitfulness. After Marah, God always brings His children to
Elim—“… Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the
morning” (Psalm 30:5). You may lock Peter in the inner prison,
but an angel is going to spring him before morning (see Acts
12). Paul and Silas may be beaten within an inch of their lives
and put in a dungeon, but at midnight they’re going to sing
praises to God, and the doors of the prison will be flung open
(see Acts 16).
God will take you down by Marah. But He won’t
leave you at Marah. There is an Elim ahead for the pilgrim
today. And God’s plan of usefulness goes by Marah to Elim. It
always has; there’s no exception.
Joseph—oh, the difficulties and the problems
this poor boy had! But after his father died, his brothers came
to him with fear. They were afraid he was going to take revenge
on them. He said, “Wait, you meant it for evil, but God meant it
for good.” His Marah was when he was sold into slavery by these
jealous brothers, but there was Elim down the way. God brought
Joseph to the oasis where there were, in effect, palm trees and
an abundance of water (see Genesis 37–50).
David—oh, how wonderful it was to be a
care–free shepherd boy. Then one day Samuel appeared and poured
the anointing oil on him. After that, David is brought into the
palace of Saul. My, it looks like everything is going to be
easy. Some say it ought to be easy for God’s man, but should it?
One day David is before the king playing his harp to soothe him.
By the way, I have often wondered how it sounded—a harp with
only three strings! Maybe David wasn’t a good musician because
Saul threw his spear at him! Have you ever felt that way about
these modern musicians?
But seriously, the reason Saul tried to kill
David was because of his hatred towards him, and from that day
on David took to the wilderness and the caves. Finally he even
cried out to God, “I’m hunted like a partridge.” There’s always
a closed season on birds, but there was no closed season on
David! He was being hunted constantly by Saul, and he lived like
a partridge in the mountains!
But there came a day when God placed David on
the throne. This rough and rugged man became the king of all
Israel. He’s God’s man, and he went down by Marah, but God
brought him to Elim.
Since America passed the log–cabin days and
the rugged frontier was pushed into the Pacific Ocean, we have
not produced a great man. We now have millionaires for
presidents—I’m not talking politics—but no millionaire could be
a president of the caliber of Abraham Lincoln. We will never
again have another president out of a log cabin.
Life today lacks that touch which produces
character and greatness, that which takes a man through a period
where he eats the bread of adversity and drinks the water of
affliction so that he can say as the apostle Paul said, “I know
both how to be abased, and I know how to abound …” (Philippians
4:12).
In this affluent and comfortable society in
which you and I live, we may know how to
abound, but how
many today know how to be abased?
My beloved, how we need to be abased, yet be able to trace the
rainbow through the rain, as George Matheson wrote in the
beloved hymn, “O Love That Will Not Let Me Go.”
O joy that seeketh me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to Thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.
You can’t have that rainbow without the rain.
Has God brought you down by Marah? You
thought He made a mistake, didn’t you? And you thought you were
out of the will of God. But He did it for a purpose, because He
takes all of His children down by Marah. But, my friend, don’t
stay there. Don’t live there in bitterness. Take the cross of
Christ and put it into those bitter waters.
Have you been mistreated? Jesus was
mistreated. Have you been lied about? He was lied about. Have
you been unable to defend yourself? He chose not to. When He was
falsely accused, He didn’t open His mouth. Do you feel like
there’s been injustice in your life? Well, have you read the
account of His trial? They nailed Him to a cross—it was the
greatest crime of history! May I say, your little Marah and my
little Marah are nothing compared to His. But put that cross
into your experience and it will turn your bitter waters to
sweet.
Then go on to Elim. There are seventy palm
trees there. And twelve springs of water!
*
All Scripture references in this
chapter are from the New
Scofield Reference Bible.
McGee, J. Vernon: On
Comfort : Words of Hope for the Hurting. electronic
ed. Nashville : Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2000, c1994,
S. 25
——
3 ——
DEATH OF A LITTLE CHILD
In Memory of Ruth Margaret
McGee
She was so small, but her influence was so great;
her life was short, but the memory of her is long.
“And Jesus called a little child unto him …”
(Matthew 18:2).
“Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid
them not: for of such is the kingdom of God”
(Luke 18:16).
At the death of my firstborn, God
gave me some words of comfort which I desire to pass
on to parents and to loved ones of little ones who
die. There is no sorrow quite so heartrending as the
death of a little child. The image of the little one
is written so indelibly upon the mind and heart that
during the long watches of the night it appears on
memory’s screen to haunt us. If the child lives long
enough to walk and to talk, the faltering steps and
childish prattle are like a lingering fragrance in
the home that seems so strangely silent. The arms
are empty, the eyes are filled with tears, and the
heart is like a vacant house. Yet, there is no
affliction for which God has provided such tender
comfort and such sweet solace. He is “the God of all
comfort” (2 Corinthians 1:3).
The following comforts are
mentioned with the prayer that the Comforter, the
Holy Spirit, will apply them to broken hearts and to
wounded spirits as strong splints and sweet
ointment.
A BRIEF LIFE IS NOT AN INCOMPLETE LIFE
We sometimes feel that a life
which was so brief was in vain and that God has
mocked us by giving us the little one and then by
taking it away immediately. The child had no
opportunity to perform a work, nor was there any
time given to develop character. Let us remember,
first of all, that the little one had an eternal
spirit and that it has gone into the presence of God
where there will be an eternity to perform works and
develop character.
With eternity as a measuring rod,
the long life of Methuselah was merely a pinpoint on
the calendar of time. Although the span of life of
your little one was brief, your child completed a
mission, served a purpose, and performed a
God–appointed task in this world. The child’s
presence turned your thoughts to the best. Your
little one’s helplessness brought out your strength
and protection, and your child’s loveliness roused
your tenderness and love. The little one’s influence
will linger in your heart as long as you live. If
anything can bring a man to God, it is a child. “A
little child shall lead them” is not idle rhetoric.
We think of Methuselah in connection with old age,
but did you ever consider him as an infant? Well, he
was once a baby, and a most arresting thing is
recorded about his birth. He was the son of Enoch,
and it is written: “And Enoch lived sixty and five
years, and begat Methuselah:
and Enoch walked with God after
he begat Methuselah
three hundred years, and begat sons and daughters:
and all the days of Enoch were three hundred sixty
and five years: and Enoch walked with God: and he
was not; for God took him” (Genesis 5:21–24). We do
not know what the life of Enoch was for the first
sixty–five years, but when the day came that he
looked down into a crib at a little boy named
Methuselah, he began to walk with God. If Methuselah
had died in his crib, he would have accomplished
about as much as evidently he did in his long life.
Your little one served its
purpose. A brief life is not an incomplete life.
YOU CAN BE ASSURED THAT ALL IS WELL WITH THE CHILD
David lost two sons for whom he
grieved deeply. One was Bathsheba’s child, who died
shortly after birth. David was greatly exercised
about the life of this child. The record reveals the
magnitude of his grief:
David therefore besought God
for the child; and David fasted, and went in, and
lay all night upon the earth. And the elders of his
house arose, and went to him, to raise him up from
the earth: but he would not, neither did he eat
bread with them. And it came to pass on the seventh
day, that the child died. And the servants of David
feared to tell him that the child was dead: for they
said, Behold, while the child was yet alive, we
spake unto him, and he would not hearken unto our
voice: how will he then vex himself, if we tell him
that the child is dead? But when David saw that his
servants whispered, David perceived that the child
was dead: therefore David said unto his servants, Is
the child dead? And they said, He is dead. Then
David arose from the earth, and washed, and anointed
himself, and changed his apparel, and came into the
house of the
Lord, and worshipped:
then he came to his own house; and when he required,
they set bread before him, and he did eat. Then said
his servants unto him, What thing is this that thou
hast done? thou didst fast and weep for the child,
while it was alive; but when the child was dead,
thou didst rise and eat bread. And he said, While
the child was yet alive, I fasted and wept: for I
said, Who can tell whether
God will be gracious to
me, that the child may live? But now he is dead,
wherefore should I fast? can I bring him back again?
I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me.
(2 Samuel 12:16–23)
David knew that the child was
with the redeemed and that he would join him someday
by death and would be with him forever.
David had another son, Absalom,
who in manhood became rebellious and sinned
grievously. While ruthlessly attempting to seize the
kingdom from his father, he was killed in battle.
Upon learning of his death, King David, a strong,
rugged old soldier, wept as a woman. The Bible
records his appalling grief:
And the king was much moved,
and went up to the chamber over the gate, and wept:
and as he went, thus he said, O my son Absalom, my
son, my son Absalom! would God I had died for thee,
O Absalom, my son, my son!
(2 Samuel 18:33)
David did not know the destiny of
the soul of Absalom, or at least he doubted his
salvation. David wished it had been possible to have
died in his stead so that Absalom might have another
chance. David could be sure of the first child, but
he was not sure of Absalom.
You, likewise, may have the
assurance of the salvation of your little child; it
is “safe in the arms of Jesus.” You would be willing
to turn over your child to the care of a faithful
nurse in this life, and you can rejoice that your
little one is in the arms of the Good Shepherd who
is more tender than any human nurse. In fact, the
little one is better off than if it were asleep in
its crib in your home. It is beyond this veil of
tears. There is no danger or evil to beset its
pathway. We may rest in the confidence that our
children are safe with Christ. Remember that when He
was here on earth, He took up little ones into His
arms, saying, “Suffer little children to come unto
me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom
of God” (Luke 18:16). On another occasion He said,
“Take heed that ye despise not one of these little
ones; for I say unto you, that in heaven their
angels do always behold the face of my Father which
is in heaven” (Matthew 18:10).
If you could but know the
blessedness of your little one at this very moment,
it would reconcile you to the loss of the darling of
your heart.
HEAVEN SHOULD BE MORE REAL TO YOU
The Lord Jesus has gone to
prepare a place for those who are His own. Part of
this preparation is the taking of your child. Heaven
will mean more to you now—your dearest treasure is
there. “For where your treasure is, there will your
heart be also” (Matthew 6:21). He takes the family
here to form the family there. Baby hands are
beckoning to you, and a baby voice is calling you
home.
I did not realize how many
parents there were who had lost children until our
first baby was taken. One after another in the
congregation came with tears in their eyes to tell
of their secret sorrow. One dear lady and her
husband always sat down in the front pew. They were
elderly and they had a son who was a great sorrow.
In spite of this, they were always smiling and
seemed never to be defeated by life. I shall never
forget my surprise when I discovered the reason for
this as they told me of the loss of their firstborn
and of their happy anticipation of seeing the little
one in heaven someday.
THERE ARE NO MISTAKES IN GOD’S PLANS
God has permitted this to happen
to you. It was no accident, nor was it something
over which He had no control. He knows the way you
take; your times are in His hands, and He numbers
the hairs of your head. Somehow and some way God
will make this work out for His glory and your good.
“And we know that all things work together for good
to them that love God, to them who are the called
according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28). Perhaps you
do not see this now, and I am sure that I cannot
explain it in detail, but here is where you can
trust God. He permits us to suffer here, and in this
world of sin it is part of His discipline for a
higher place.
For whom the Lord loveth he
chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he
receiveth. If ye endure chastening, God dealeth with
you as with sons; for what son is he whom the father
chasteneth not?
(Hebrews 12:6, 7)
YOU DID THE BEST YOU COULD UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES
Perhaps you are rebuking yourself
for not having done something more in behalf of the
child. You may be harassed by a haunting fear that
you did something wrong. Martha and Mary felt that
the death of their brother could have been averted.
They both said to Jesus Christ, “Lord, if thou hadst
been here, my brother had not died” (John 11:21,
32). Yet in the providence of God it was best for
Lazarus to die, though it could have been
averted—but only with divine help. Humanly speaking,
you did the best you could. You are not as wise nor
as strong as God. You did what you could, and you
must leave the results to Him. Do not reproach
yourself for negligence or ignorance. Regardless of
what you had done, you are still a fallible and
feeble creature. You did the best you could.
SUPPOSE YOUR CHILD HAD LIVED
Multitudes of children today,
growing up to maturation, are entering upon a life
of crime or shame. Think of the children who bring
disgrace and suffering to their parents. A father in
Atlanta, Georgia, a man of wealth and who was known
for his gentleness and graciousness, said to me that
he wished he had buried his son the day that he sent
him away to college. Think of the sad parents who
have nothing but bitter memories of a debauched and
godless son or daughter. Think of the anxiety of
parents as their children are swept along in today’s
changing world. Think of the millions of starving
children in many parts of the world, of the
multitudes of boys and girls being brainwashed by
godless ideologies. Think of the pinched faces and
swollen tummies of children who are the victims of
war. You will never know a haunting dread for the
future of your
child, nor will there be ever a sting in your
memory.
God knew what was in the future
for your child. Perhaps there would have been a life
of illness, a disfiguring accident or brain damage,
or a lingering, incurable disease. God knew all of
this, and I am confident that He has given you the
better part. You can be certain about your child’s
future now; you could not be certain if your little
one were alive.
YOU WILL SEE YOUR LITTLE ONE SOMEDAY
If you have faith in a living
Savior who was victorious over death and the grave,
then you will someday see your little one. We are
told through the apostle Paul,
But I would not have you to be
ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are
asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others which
have no hope. (1
Thessalonians 4:13)
Notice that he did not say we are
not to sorrow; he said that we are not to sorrow
as those who have no
hope. Death is yet to
be defeated. Someday the dead in Christ are to be
raised from the grave,
For the Lord himself shall
descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of
the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the
dead in Christ shall rise first: then we which are
alive and remain shall be caught up together with
them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and
so shall we ever be with the Lord.
(1 Thessalonians 4:16, 17)
The little form of your child
will be raised from the grave and the spirit joined
to the glorified body. If you are in Christ, you at
that time will be reunited, and together you will be
at home with Christ forever.
Will our children be as we last
saw them? I do not know nor can I prove it from
Scripture (for Scripture is silent at this point),
but I believe with all my heart that God will raise
the little ones as such and that the mothers’ arms
that have ached for them will have the opportunity
of holding them. The father’s hand that never held
the little hand will be given that privilege. I
believe that the little ones will grow up in heaven
in the care of their earthly parents—if they are
saved. One of the worst things of which I, as a
father, can conceive, is of parents being in hell
knowing that they cannot have their child—there are
no children in hell. What an added joy this lends to
heaven in looking forward to having your little one
again! Though the Scriptures do not teach this
explicitly, this does seem to be the sense. Remember
that David expected to go to his
child.
And referring to children Christ said, “Of such is
the kingdom of heaven.”
YOU CAN PROVE THE REALITY OF GOD’S COMFORT
His comfort is real; His presence
is vital; His words are life. He can become a mighty
reality to you now. He wants to enter into your
sorrow and sympathize with you. When Jesus went to a
funeral, these amazing words are recorded, “Jesus
wept” (John 11:35). Because He had our humanity and
was touched with the feeling of our infirmity, when
He went to the cemetery, He wept—in spite of the
fact that He intended to restore life.
In every pang that rends the
human heart
The Man of Sorrow had a part.
There is a story of sweetness and
beauty which enlightens the heart of every parent
who has lost a child. It concerns a custom among the
shepherd folk of the Alps. In the summertime when
the grass in the lower valleys withers and dries up,
the shepherds seek to lead their sheep up a winding,
thorny, and stony pathway to the high grazing lands.
The sheep, reluctant to take the difficult pathway
infested with dangers and hardships, turn back and
will not follow. The shepherds make repeated
attempts, but the timid sheep will not follow.
Finally a shepherd reaches into the flock and takes
a little lamb and places it under his arm, then
reaches in again and takes another lamb, placing it
under the other arm. Then he starts up the
precipitous pathway. Soon the mother sheep start to
follow and afterward the entire flock. At last they
ascend the torturous trail to green pastures.
The Great Shepherd of the sheep,
the Lord Jesus Christ, our Savior, has reached into
the flock and He has picked up your lamb. He did not
do it to rob you but to lead you out and upward. He
has richer and greener pastures for you, and He
wants you to follow.
Will you follow Him? You will, if
you catch a glimpse
Of the good Shepherd on the
height.
Or climbing up the starry way,
Holding your little lamb
asleep.
While like the murmur of the
sea
Soundeth that voice along the
deep,
Saying, “Arise, and follow
Me.”
McGee, J.
Vernon: On Comfort : Words of Hope for
the Hurting. electronic ed. Nashville :
Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2000, c1994, S. 54
—— 4 ——
THE DARK SIDE OF LOVE
The little Book of Zephaniah will never
take the place of the Gospel of John as
number one in Bible popularity. The
contents of this book have never been
familiar, and I doubt that it has been
read very much. I dare say that few have
ever heard a sermon on Zephaniah.
Such neglect is not due to mediocrity or
the inferiority of this little book. If
its theme were known, I think it would
be very much appreciated, because it has
the same theme as the Gospel of John.
John is called the apostle of love, and
as we study this book we will find that
Zephaniah is the prophet of love. That
may be difficult for you to believe, but
let
me give you a verse to demonstrate my
point. You are acquainted with
John 3:16,
but you may not be acquainted with
Zephaniah 3:17:
“The
Lord,
thy God, in the midst of thee is mighty;
he will save, he will rejoice over thee
with joy; he will rest in his love, he
will joy over thee with singing.”*
This is lovely, is it not? However, the
prophecy of Zephaniah is a little
different from the Gospel of John, for
this verse is just a small island which
is sheltered in the midst of a
storm–tossed sea.
Most of this book seems rather harsh and
cruel; it seems as if it is fury poured
out. Chapter
3
opens in this vein: “Woe to her that is
filthy and polluted, to the oppressing
city!” Zephaniah’s prophecy is one of
judgment involving more than the land of
Israel. It is a worldwide devastation
that is predicted here. The Book of
Revelation confirms this and places the
time of this judgment as the Great
Tribulation period.
During that period, this earth will
absolutely be denuded by the judgments
that will come upon it. This will occur
right before God brings in the
millennial kingdom and renews the earth.
Since there is so much judgment in this
little book, how can love be its theme?
To find proof that love is its theme is
like looking for the proverbial needle
in a haystack, but I will illustrate my
point by telling you a mystery story.
This may seem to be a very peculiar way
to begin a study of Zephaniah, but it is
going to help us understand this little
book. The title of my story is
The Dark Side of Love.
There is a theme
about which every believer should have a
clear understanding if he is to walk in
full assurance. It is the
dark side of love—God’s
love. And in order to make this clear,
perhaps I should brief you on a
terrifying scene.
It was late at night
in a suburban area of one of our great
cities in America. A child lay restless
in her bed. A man with a very severe and
stern look stealthily entered her
bedroom and softly approached her bed.
The moment the little girl saw him a
terrified look came over her face, and
she began to scream. Her mother rushed
into the room and went over to her. And
the trembling child threw her arms about
her.
The man withdrew to
the telephone, called someone who was
evidently an accomplice, and in a very
soft voice made some sort of
arrangement. Hastily the man re–entered
the room, tore the child from the
mother’s arms, and rushed out to a
waiting car. The child was sobbing, and
he attempted to stifle her cries. He
drove madly down street after street
until he finally pulled up before a
large, sinister and foreboding–looking
building. All was quiet, the building
was partially dark, but there was one
room upstairs ablaze with light.
The child was
hurriedly taken inside, up to the
lighted room, and put into the hands of
the man with whom the conversation had
been held over the telephone. In turn,
the child was handed over to another
accomplice—this time a woman—and these
two took her into an inner room. The man
who had brought her was left outside in
the hallway. Inside the room the man
plunged a gleaming, sharp knife into the
vitals of that little child, and she lay
as if she were dead.
Your reaction at this
point may be, “I certainly hope they
will catch the criminal who abducted the
little girl and is responsible for such
an awful crime.”
However, I have not
described to you the depraved and
degraded action of a debased mind. I
have not taken a chapter out of the life
of the man in cell 2455, death row. I
have not related to you the sordid and
sadistic crime of a psychopathic
criminal. On the contrary, I have
described to you a tender act of love.
In fact, I can think of no more sincere
demonstration of love.
You see, that little
girl had awakened in the night with
severe abdominal pain. She had been
subject to such attacks. It was her
father who had rushed into the room. He
had talked to the specialist about it,
and when he saw the suffering of the
little girl, he went to the telephone,
called the family physician, and
arranged to meet him at the hospital. He
had rushed his little girl down to the
hospital and had handed her over to the
family physician. The doctor had taken
her to the operating room and performed
emergency surgery. Through it all, every
move and every act of that father was of
tender love, anxious care, and wise
decision. I have described to you the
dark side of love—but
love,
nevertheless.
The father loved the
child just as much on that dark night
when he took her to the hospital and
delivered her to the surgeon’s knife as
he did the next week when he brought her
flowers and candy. It was just as much a
demonstration of deep affection when he
delivered her into the hands of the
surgeon as it was the next week when he
brought her home and delivered her into
the arms of her mother. My friend, love
places the eternal security and
permanent welfare of the object of love
above any transitory or temporary
comfort or present pleasure down here
upon this earth. Love seeks the best
interests of the beloved.
SICKENING RATHER THAN STIMULATING
In our nation we have
come through a period when the love of
God has been exaggerated out of all
proportion to the other attributes of
our God. And it has been presented in
such a way that the love of God is a
weakness rather than a strength. It has
been presented on the sunny side of the
street with nothing of the other side
ever mentioned. There is a “love” of God
presented that sounds to me like the
doting of grandparents rather than the
vital and vigorous concern of a parent
for the best interests of the child.
The liberal preacher
has chanted like a parrot. He has used
shopworn clichés. He has taken tired
adjectives, and he has said, “God is
love, God is love, God is love,” until
he has made it saccharine sweet, and he
has not told about the dark side of the
love of God. He has watered love down,
making it sickening rather than
stimulating, causing it to slop over on
every side like a sentimental feeling
rather than an abiding concern for the
object of love.
HE DEALS WITH US SEVERELY
However, I want you
to notice that there is the dark side of
the love of God. The Great Physician
will put His child on the operating
table. He will use the surgeon’s knife
when He sees a tumor of transgression or
a deadly virus sapping our spiritual
lives or when He sees the cancerous
growth of sin. He does not hesitate to
deal with us severely. We must learn
this fact early: He loves us just as
much when He is subjecting us to surgery
as when He sends us candy and flowers
and brings us into the sunshine.
And sometimes the
Great Physician will operate without
giving us so much as a sedative. But you
can always be sure of one thing: When He
does this, He will pour in the balm of
Gilead. When He sees that it is best for
you and for me to go down through the
valley of suffering, that it will be for
our eternal welfare, He will not
hesitate to let us go down through that
dark valley. Someone has expressed it in
these lines:
Is there no other
way, O God,
Except through
sorrow, pain and loss,
To stamp Christ’s
likeness on my soul,
No other way
except the cross?
And then a voice
stills all my soul,
As stilled the
waves of Galilee.
Can’st thou not
bear the furnace,
If midst the
flames I walk with thee?
I bore the cross,
I know its weight;
I drank the cup I
hold for thee.
Can’st thou not
follow where I lead?
I’ll give thee
strength, lean hard on Me!
My friend, He loves
us most when He is operating on us, “for
whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth …”
(Hebrews 12:6).
Under another figure
the Lord Jesus presented it yonder in
the Upper Room to those who were His
own. He said in John 15:1, 2:
I am the true
vine, and my Father is the vinedresser.
Every branch in me that beareth not
fruit he taketh away; and every branch
that beareth fruit, he purgeth
[prunes]
it, that it may bring forth more fruit.
We must remember that
the Father reaches into your life and
mine and prunes out that which is not
fruitbearing—and it hurts! But, as some
Puritan divine said years ago, “The
husbandman is never so close to the
branch as when he is trimming it.” The
Father is never closer to you, my
friend, than when He is reaching in and
taking out of your heart and life those
things that offend.
It was Spurgeon who
noticed a weather vane that a farmer had
on his barn. It was an unusual weather
vane, for on it the farmer had the
words,
GOD IS LOVE. Mr Spurgeon asked
him, “Do you mean by this that God’s
love is as changeable as the wind?” The
farmer shook his head. “No,” he said, “I
do not mean that God’s love changes like
that. I mean that whichever way the wind
blows, God
is love.”
Today it may be the
soft wind from the south that He brings
to blow across your life, for He loves
you. And tomorrow He may let the cold
blasts from the north blow over your
life—and if He does, He still loves you.
It has been expressed
in these familiar lines written by Annie
Johnson Flint in a way I never could
express it:
God hath not
promised skies always blue,
Flower–strewn
pathways all our lives through;
God hath not
promised sun without rain,
Joy without
sorrow, peace without pain.
God hath not
promised we shall not know
Toil and
temptation, trouble and woe;
He hath not told
us we shall not bear
Many a burden,
many a care.
God hath not
promised smooth roads and wide,
Swift, easy
travel, needing no guide;
Never a mountain,
rocky and steep,
Never a river,
turbid and deep.
But God hath
promised strength for the day,
Rest for the
laborer, light for the way,
Grace for the
trials, help from above,
Unfailing
sympathy, undying love.
Beloved, if you are a
child of God and are in a place of
suffering, be assured and know that God
loves you, regardless of how it may
appear.
GOD’S LOVE IN ZEPHANIAH
Now the little
prophecy of Zephaniah sets forth the
dark side of the love of God. I have a
notion that very few people have ever
heard a sermon on Zephaniah, and since
it presents the dark side of God’s love,
I can well understand how it would be
unpopular.
It opens with
rumblings of judgment—the judgment of
God that is coming upon this earth.
Three verses in the first chapter are
often the reason that many folk put the
book down even before they get through
the three short chapters. Here are
verses 2, 15, and 16:
I will utterly
consume all things from off the land,
saith the
Lord.
That day is a day
of wrath, a day of trouble and distress,
a day of waste and desolation, a day of
darkness and gloominess, a day of clouds
and thick darkness, a day of the trumpet
and alarm against the fortified cities,
and against the high towers.
You see, this little
book opens with a Florida hurricane, a
Texas tornado, and a California
earthquake.
You might get the
impression, upon reading this little
book, that God hates His people. You
would think that He is vindictive in His
judgment, that He is cruel, brutal and
unfeeling as He moves forward against
mankind. Perhaps the theological
liberal, who a few years ago made the
statement that the God of the Old
Testament is a big bully, had read only
the first chapter of Zephaniah. I wish
he had read all of it. He would have
found that the God of the Old Testament
is not a big bully, but that we are
shown the dark side of His love.
GOD IS JEALOUS
And over in the third
chapter of Zephaniah, verse 8, we read
this:
Therefore, wait
upon me, saith the
Lord, until
the day that I rise up to the prey …
The Great Physician
is getting ready to operate.
… for my
determination is to gather the nations,
that I may assemble the kingdoms, to
pour upon them mine indignation, even
all my fierce anger; for all the earth
shall be devoured with the fire of my
jealousy.
I know that the
theologian does everything he can to
break down the expression “the jealousy
of God” and tries to say that it really
does not mean jealousy. My beloved, it
does mean
jealousy!
Sometimes you hear a
wife say this, “You know, my husband is
not jealous.” I have news for her. He
does not love her if he is not
jealous—or else he is just sure that no
one else would be interested in her. It
is one of the two reasons, you may be
sure of that.
God’s Word says that
He is jealous, and I cannot conceive of
love that would not have that quality in
it. It is not the jealousy of an Othello
that is being spurred on by an Iago!
This is jealousy of One who loves us and
wants nothing to come into our lives
that is going to hurt or harm us. He
will do anything in the world to protect
us.
In Zephaniah 3:2 we
read:
She obeyed not the
voice; she received not correction; she
trusted not in the
Lord; she
drew not near to her God.
This is the diagnosis
of the Great Physician. He is saying
that the nation whom He loved needed to
be put on the operating table.
Even in judgment,
beloved, God is love!
GOD WILL REST IN HIS LOVE
Now notice the final
section of this little book, verse 17:
The
Lord, thy
God, in the midst of thee is mighty; he
will save, he will rejoice over thee
with joy; he will rest in his love, he
will joy over thee with singing.
This verse is a
talisman; it reaches on down into the
very end of the age in which we are
living. However, we are not concerned
just now with the prophetic messages of
Zephaniah; we want the message that is
for you and me today. It is this: God
wants to rejoice over you. He wants to
rejoice over me. He wants to rest in His
love for you and for me. This proposes a
question to be faced: Can God rejoice
over you and me this day; can He rest in
His love for you and for me?
In Isaiah 53:11 we
read:
He shall see of
the travail of his soul, and shall be
satisfied; by his knowledge shall my
righteous servant justify many; for he
shall bear their iniquities.
This refers to
Christ’s sacrifice for the sin of the
world. God is satisfied with what Christ
did for the sins of this world, and if
you trust in Him, you are complete in
Him.
But wait just a
minute! Is He satisfied with your life
right now? Let me illustrate this in a
very practical way.
On Mother’s Day I did
something that I have not done in years:
I sat and listened to someone else
preach. It was a wonderful sermon, and
while listening I had an opportunity to
do something that I do not have
opportunity to do when the pressure of
preaching is upon me; I sat there and
looked at the folk in a very comfortable
sort of way. I saw a mother wearing a
lovely corsage sent to her by her son in
the East. He is a prominent businessman,
high up in government circles, but he is
not a Christian. She is praying for him.
She has asked others to pray for him.
She said to me one Sunday morning after
the message, with tears streaming down
her cheeks, “Oh, Dr. McGee, I pray that
God will save my boy. I pray that He
will save him even if He has to put him
on a sick bed; even if He has to kill
him—I pray that He will save him.” If
the FBI heard her plotting like that,
would they arrest her? No, sir! She
loves her boy. As I looked out last
Sunday morning and saw her sitting
there, the tears slipping down her
cheeks, I knew this: She is not
rejoicing over him with joy; she is not
resting in her love. She loves him with
all her heart, and if giving her life
would save that boy, she would give it
immediately. Although she loves him, she
cannot rest in her love.
Let’s go back to our
question: Is God satisfied with your
life right now? I do not believe God can
rest in His love for you and for me
until we have been brought into His
likeness.
GOD IS TRAINING HIS CHILDREN
And God knows how
this can best be accomplished. Notice
Hebrews 12:5, 6:
And ye have
forgotten the exhortation which speaketh
unto you as unto sons, My son, despise
not thou the chastening of the Lord, nor
faint when thou art rebuked of him; for
whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and
scourgeth every son whom he receiveth.
God’s treatment of
you today is based on the relationship
that He has with you. If you are His
child, He is your heavenly Father. He
wants to come to the place where He can
rest in His love.
There are parents
today who have by work and sacrifice put
away a little money in order to send
their boy away to school. After the boy
is in school for awhile, he writes back,
“Dad, it’s hard here—the assignments are
too heavy and the dormitory is too
strict. I’m homesick, and I want to come
home!” The father writes back a stern
letter, “You stay on, study hard, and
apply yourself.” When that boy gets the
letter from his dad, he says, “I don’t
think my dad loves me anymore. My dad
couldn’t
love me or he wouldn’t want me to go
through this torture.”
In a similar way God
is training us.
The word
chastening
in Hebrews 12:5, 6 really carries no
thought of punishment at all. Rather it
means to
child train.
God is training you and me, not for an
earthly career, but He is preparing us
for eternity. And it is His principle
always to deal with His children like
this.
An interesting report
has come from the Palomar Observatory. I
read everything that is released from
Palomar, describing what they are
looking at up there—I wish they would
let me look, but they will not. They say
that out yonder in the Milky Way in the
constellation Aquarius they have
discovered a doughnut–shaped
constellation that is remarkable. It is
unusual because in the center is a dim
star. Although that dim star cannot be
seen very well down here, it does not
mean that it is not a hot star.
Astronomers say that the temperature is
270,000 degrees Fahrenheit on that star
and that it is giving off light at such
a cycle that our eyes can’t see the
light—it is ultraviolet, it is dark
light. However, the light that is being
given off is “triggering” light to all
of the stars round about it. God uses
the dark light to bring out the bright.
I do not understand that in astronomy—it
is beyond my thinking—but, my friend, I
see God’s principle in operation there.
He disciplines us in order that He might
bring us out into the light.
While in college I
roomed with a boy who had a great deal
to say about his father who was a banker
in a small Mississippi town. He was a
dictator, and he ruled with an iron hand
the bank, the community, every farm on
which he held a mortgage, and his own
household. The boy told me that when he
was growing up he thought his dad was
hard on him. So he used to say, after
his dad had given him a sound whipping,
“When I get big enough, I am going to
run away from home. I’m not going to
stay here under him, he’s cruel and
mean.” The day came when he did run away
from home and joined the navy. It was
several years before he returned home.
When he did, he said to his dad, “Dad, I
want to thank you for the way you
trained me. I thank you for the way you
disciplined me. I thought you were mean
at the time, but I thank God for it now
because it has made me a better man.”
My beloved, note what
God says in Hebrews 12:9:
Furthermore, we
have had fathers of our flesh who
corrected us, and we gave them
reverence. Shall we not much rather be
in subjection unto the Father of
spirits, and live?
I hear preachers talk
about the golden streets of heaven. I’ll
be honest with you, I don’t think the
golden streets of heaven are going to be
the most impressive thing there. I hear
people talk about the gates of pearl
and, friend, although the gates of pearl
will be beautiful, I do not think they
will be the thrilling thing. I hear
people say that God is going to wipe
away all tears—that is wonderful, but
that won’t be the most wonderful thing
of all.
THANKS FOR TROUBLE
Rather, I think you
and I are going to look back on the
brief life that we lived down here and
our light affliction which was but for a
moment. Then we will go to God and thank
Him for every burden, for every trial
that He gave us down here. We are going
to thank Him even for sickness—not for
healing, but for sickness. And we will
thank Him for every problem, every
disappointment, every faithless friend,
every heartache, every false accusation
that ever has been made against us. I
think we will go to Him and we will say,
“O God, I thank Thee for putting me on
the operating table and cutting out that
which was hindering me.” You and I are
being trained and disciplined in order
that we might have a place up yonder in
Glory.
Perhaps one of the
finest summaries of this essential
teaching is found in these beautiful
lines, written by an author whose name
is unknown to me. I assume it comes out
of the experience of a person who had
spent some time in the crucible of
suffering. The title is “In the
Crucible.”
Out from the mine
and the darkness,
Out from the damp
and the mold,
Out from the fiery
furnace,
Cometh each grain
of gold,
Crushed into atoms
and leveled
Down to the
humblest dust,
With never a heart
to pity,
With never a hand
to trust.
Molten and
hammered and beaten,
Seemeth it ne’er
to be done.
Oh! for such fiery
trial,
What hath the poor
gold done?
Oh! ’twere a mercy
to leave it
Down in the damp
and the mold;
If this is the
glory of living,
Then better be
dross than gold.
Under the press
and the roller,
Into the jaws of
the mint,
Stamped with the
emblem of freedom
With never a flaw
or a dint;
Oh! what a joy,
the refining
Out of the damp
and the mold!
And stamped with
the glorious image,
Oh, beautiful coin
of gold!
Someday, when in the
presence of our Savior, we will thank
Him for every burden, every trial, and
every heartache. We will thank Him for
dealing with us as a wise Father deals
with His children and for the dark side
of His love.
*
All Scripture
references in this chapter are
from the
New Scofield
Reference Bible.
McGee, J. Vernon: On Comfort
: Words of Hope for the Hurting.
electronic ed. Nashville :
Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2000,
c1994, S. 71
—— 5 ——
WHAT DO YOU DO WITH YOUR
BURDENS?
Bear
ye one another’s burdens,
and so fulfill the law of
Christ.
(Galatians 6:2)*
For
every man shall bear his own
burden.
(Galatians 6:5)
Most
little towns of a bygone day
had a character known as the
town atheist, a freethinker,
generally a ne’er–do–well.
The little town in which I
lived as a boy lacked many
things. It didn’t have
streetlights. In fact, we
didn’t have electric lights
in our home, and I can
remember using a kerosene
lamp to study by in those
days. Our little town didn’t
have sidewalks, it didn’t
have paved streets. It
didn’t have running
water—except what you ran
out to the well to get; and
it didn’t have inside
plumbing. There were many
things our little town
lacked, but we did have a
town atheist. He called
himself a socialist. Each
Sunday morning, weather
permitting, he was down at
the street corner on the
town square, speaking. These
fellows are generally
loquacious, and this fellow
was especially so. Usually
he had about a dozen
listeners who were also
loafers. On my way to Sunday
school—I killed as much time
as possible—I always stopped
to listen to him. The thing
that impressed me about this
atheist was that his mouth
was cut on a bias, and as he
chewed tobacco an amazing
thing took place. He not
only defied the Word of God,
he also defied the law of
gravitation. You would
think, according to the law
of gravitation, that the
tobacco juice would run out
of the lower corner of his
mouth. But it didn’t. It ran
out of the upper corner. I
used to stand there as a boy
and wonder how he did it.
This man,
I remember, always ridiculed
the Bible and pointed out
supposed contradictions. His
favorites were verses 2 and
5 in the sixth chapter of
Galatians:
Bear
ye one another’s burdens,
and so fulfill the law of
Christ…. For every man shall
bear his own burden.
He would
read both verses, then lift
his head, leer at the crowd
and say, “You see, there is
a contradiction in the
Bible. One place it says
that you are to bear one
another’s burdens, and then
it says you are to bear your
own burdens.” None of us in
the little town knew how to
answer him, so we just stood
there in silence and
listened to him. Actually,
the answer was very simple,
but we didn’t know it in
those days.
There are
in the Scriptures eleven
different words that are
translated by our one
English word
burden.
This means there are
different kinds of burdens.
There are some burdens that
you can share; there are
other burdens that you must
bear and cannot share with
anyone. That is a very
simple but a very
satisfactory answer.
Burdens
are those things that we all
have in common. All of us
have burdens. Not all of us
have wealth, but we have
burdens. Not all of us have
health, but we have burdens.
Not all of us have talents,
but we have burdens. Some of
us even lack physical
members—not all of us can
see, not all of us can hear,
not all of us have arms and
legs, and certainly not all
of us have good looks. We
say that we all have the
same blood, but it is not
the same; it comes in
different types. Although we
may not have very much in
common, we all have burdens.
However,
not all of us have the same
burdens. Actually, we all
have different burdens. What
Paul is doing in this sixth
chapter of Galatians is
dividing burdens into two
classes: burdens which we
can share and burdens which
we must bear and cannot
share.
BURDENS YOU CAN SHARE
He first
refers to burdens that you
can share:
Bear
ye one another’s burdens,
and so fulfill the law of
Christ.
(Galatians 6:2)
Dr.
Lenski, the Lutheran
expositor, has a very fine
translation of this verse:
“The burdens of each other
keep bearing.” That is a
literal translation. The
Greek word for “burden” in
this verse is
baros,
and it simply means
“something heavy.” There are
other derivatives, but
fundamentally and basically
it simply means “something
heavy.” Our Lord used it
when He spoke about “the
burden
and the heat of the day.”
And the early church, when
it met in its first council
in Jerusalem, made this
decision: “For it seemed
good to the Holy Spirit, and
to us, to lay upon you no
greater
burden
than these necessary things”
(Acts 15:28), speaking of a
burden that the Gentile
churches were to share with
the church in Jerusalem.
Someone
has said that a load is only
half a load when two are
carrying it. There are
burdens today that we can
share.
A woman
boarded a bus with a very
heavy basket. She sat down
beside a man and put the
basket on her lap. After
noticing her discomfort he
said, “Lady, if you would
put that heavy basket down
on the floor, you would find
that the bus would carry
both you and your load.” May
I say to you, there are
burdens that you can let
someone else bear with you.
Again,
the word
baros
can mean “fault,” as we
shall see. It can mean
“infirmity.” It can mean
“tension.” And it can mean
“grief.” These are some of
its meanings.
Now what
are some of the burdens that
you and I can share? We will
look at three of them,
although there are many
others.
FAULTS
The first
of these three is one that
all of us have today. It is
the burden of our faults. I
think everybody has at least
one fault.
A man
speaking to a group asked
the question, “Is there
anyone here who does not
have a fault, or do you know
of someone who does not have
a fault?” No one raised his
hand. After he had repeated
the question several times,
a little fellow in the back,
a Mr. Milquetoast type,
raised his hand. The speaker
asked him to stand.
“Are you
the one who has no faults?”
“Oh, no,”
he said, “I’m not the one.”
“Then do
you know someone who does
not have any faults?”
“Well,”
he said, “I don’t exactly
know him, but I have heard
of him.”
“Tell me,
who is he?”
The
little fellow said, “He’s my
wife’s first husband.”
And I
have a notion that he had
heard of him quite a few
times!
All of us
have faults. Notice that
Paul began this sixth
chapter of Galatians like
this:
Brethren, if a man be
overtaken in a fault, ye who
are spiritual restore such
an one in the spirit of
meekness, considering
thyself, lest thou also be
tempted.
(Galatians 6:1)
Faults—that’s a burden. And
the word
fault
here means “to fall down.”
It is the Greek word
paraptoma,
meaning “a falling aside.”
Many times we fall down.
Many times we see a brother
fall down, and we are told,
“Ye who are spiritual
restore
such an one.”
Restore
is the same word used in the
Greek for a physician to
reset a bone. This is the
meaning that is really
primary here. It requires a
man who is an expert, a man
who has deftness and
experience to reset a bone.
Notice that he says, “Ye who
are
spiritual
restore such an one.” Oh,
the clumsiness of so many
people in trying to
straighten out somebody
else! We need to be
spiritual
to restore such an one. Also
note that we are to
restore
him, not drive him out of
our fellowship. The sin
should be condemned—there is
no toleration in the
Scriptures for sin—but the
sinner should be restored.
Sometimes it seems as if we
have gone out of the
business of restoring.
Instead, we are in the
business of criticizing the
man with the fault, the man
who has fallen down.
Also
notice that we are to
restore “in the spirit of
meekness.” One of the great
preachers of the South
reminded me of this a few
years ago when we were
together. He and I had
graduated from college
together. We also had
graduated from seminary
together, and we both had
worked our way through
college. I worked in
downtown Memphis on a
newspaper, and he was the
manager of a garage at
night. One night I got on
the streetcar to go back to
the dormitory, and I saw him
standing in the back of the
streetcar. It was a warm
night, the windows were
open, and he had his head
hanging out. I walked back
and found that he was sick,
but not only that, he was
drunk. He turned to me and
said, “Mac, I’m getting out
of the ministry. I’m
discouraged.” He had been
engaged to a girl in Alabama
who had let him down, and he
felt the whole world was
against him. He said, “I’m
through. I’m leaving
school.” I hit him on the
back as hard as I dared, and
said, “No, you’re not.” I
got him off the streetcar a
block before we reached the
school, and I slipped him
around the corner and
brought him in the back door
of the dorm. He didn’t have
a roommate at that time; so
I just put him to bed with
his shoes and clothes on.
The next day he came to me
and said, “Mac, I thank you
for what you’ve done, but I
still am going to leave.”
Well, I talked with him and
could tell him, “I have felt
just like you feel, and I
could have done exactly what
you did, easily.” Well, he
did not leave school, and I
thank God for that because
he is today one of the
beloved preachers of the
South. The Scriptures tell
us:
Brethren, if a man [a
Christian man]
be overtaken in a fault, ye
who are spiritual restore
such an one in the spirit of
meekness, considering
thyself, lest thou also be
tempted.
(Galatians 6:1)
There is
not a sin committed today by
anyone but what you or I
could have committed it. The
faults of others are burdens
that you and I can share.
TENSIONS
Then
there is another burden that
you and I can share:
tensions. Now you can take a
tranquilizer but, my friend,
that really won’t solve your
problems. We are living in a
time of tension such as the
human family has never
before experienced. I don’t
know about you, but I live
in “Tension Town.” Many of
us in these great
metropolitan areas are under
pressure and tension today.
This is certainly a burden
we need to bear with one
another. Let me illustrate.
A very dear man in one of
the churches I pastored came
to me and said, “Do you have
something against me?”
“No,” I
said. “Why do you say that?”
“Well, I
met you down on the street
and you didn’t even speak to
me.”
“I
didn’t?”
“No, you
just passed me right by.”
“I didn’t
see you.”
“You must
have—you looked right at
me.”
So I
asked him what day that was
and realized it was the day
the airlines had gotten my
tickets mixed up, and I was
going down to the ticket
office to straighten them
out. We are under tension at
a time like that. And my
friend was also under
tension for assuming I had
snubbed him. Well, I never
shall forget how he put his
arm around me and said, “I’m
glad to know that.” You see,
he was helping me bear the
burden of tension. That’s
something we can share with
each other.
GRIEF
Now I
come to the third burden you
and I can share. That is the
burden known as grief. The
burden of tragedy, the
burden of sorrow, the burden
of disappointment are
inevitable in the human
family. If one hasn’t come
to you, it will come. And
when it comes, you need a
friend to stand with you.
The three friends of Job are
examples. We criticize them
because they began a talking
marathon, but actually they
spent seven days sitting
with Job and sorrowing with
him.
In a book
of natural history there is
a statement that reads: “Man
is the only one who at birth
knows nothing and can learn
nothing without being
taught. He can neither speak
nor walk nor eat. In short,
he can do nothing at the
prompting of nature but
weep.” All that you and I
know to do when we come into
this world is weep! We come
into this world with a cry,
and we need comfort. From
the very beginning and all
through life we need comfort
because of the fact that we
have been born into this
world of woe.
Ruth
could say to Boaz, “Thou
hast comforted me.” She was
a stranger, an outcast, had
come from a foreign country,
and expected to be kept on
the outside, but into her
life came someone who showed
an interest in her and
extended to her certain
courtesies. With
appreciation she said, “Thou
hast comforted me.”
Mary
broke open an alabaster box
of very expensive perfume,
and poured it upon the head
of our Lord. She did this
shortly before His
crucifixion because she knew
what was going to take
place. No one else seemed to
realize what was happening,
but she knew. She was
criticized for it, but Jesus
said, “Let her alone; for
the day of my burial hath
she kept this” (John 12:7).
She alone entered into His
sufferings. And He said,
Verily
I say unto you, Wherever
this gospel shall be
preached in the whole world,
there shall also this, that
this woman hath done, be
told for a memorial of her.
(Matthew 26:13)
And the
fragrance of that ointment
has filled the world!
Grief is
a burden that you can share.
There will be those who will
come to you in your sorrow.
Our
faults, our tensions, our
griefs—these are some of the
burdens that you and I can
share.
Is thy
cruse of comfort failing?
Rise
and share it with a friend,
And
thro’ all the years of
famine
It
shall serve thee to the end.
Love
Divine will fill thy
storehouse,
Or thy
handful still renew.
Scanty
fare for one will often
Make a
royal feast for two.
Lost
and weary on the mountains,
Wouldst thou sleep amidst
the snow?
Chafe
that frozen form beside thee,
And
together both shall glow.
Art
thou wounded in life’s
battle?
Many
stricken round thee moan;
Give
to them thy precious
ointment,
And
that balm shall heal thine
own.
—Author
unknown
BURDENS YOU MUST BEAR
Now let’s
look at the other verse that
tells us there are burdens
which we cannot share.
For
every man shall bear his own
burden.
(Galatians 6:5)
The word
“burden” here is the Greek
phortion,
meaning a load to be borne.
This word is used to speak
of a ship’s cargo. Actually
it is used to speak of a
child in the womb—only the
mother could bear it, you
see. This is a load that is
impossible to share. While I
never recommend J. B.
Phillips’
The New
Testament in Modern English
as a translation (it should
not be called a
translation), it is a most
excellent explanation. Many
times it throws light on a
passage of Scripture. Here
it gives this paraphrase of
Galatians 6:5: “For every
man must ‘shoulder his own
pack.’ ” That’s it. Each man
must shoulder his own pack.
There is an old bromide: “To
every man his work.” And
another, a rather crude one,
“Every tub must sit on its
own bottom!” In other words,
there are burdens today that
you and I cannot share.
Every
life in one sense is
separated, it is isolated,
it is segregated, it is
quarantined from every other
life. Dr. Funk, of the Funk
and Wagnalls Dictionary, has
compiled a list of words in
which the saddest word in
the English language is
alone.
There are certain burdens
that you and I will have to
bear alone. I will mention
just a few of them here, and
you will think of others,
I’m sure.
SUFFERING
The first
one I want to mention is
suffering. You will have to
suffer alone. No one can
suffer for you. You are born
alone into this world of
woe, and you will suffer
alone. You will have to face
certain problems alone.
There will be physical
suffering that will come to
you. You will get sick, and
no one can take your place.
When my
daughter was a very little
thing, we were coming back
to California from Texas,
and she started running a
high fever. We took her to
the hospital at Globe,
Arizona. A doctor gave her
certain medication and told
us, “You give her this, and
the fever will go down. It
is getting late in the
afternoon so keep driving
into California and get out
of the heat!” So we started
out. In Phoenix we stopped
for gasoline, and my wife
took her temperature. It
registered 104 degrees—her
temperature hadn’t gone
down. We were frightened. We
went to a motel, called a
doctor, and told him the
situation. He said to
continue the medication and
to bring her to the hospital
in the morning. Never shall
I forget my feelings as I
carried her to the hospital
and laid her down. Never in
my life had I had that
experience. I would have
gladly taken that fever in
my own body,
gladly
would I have done it. But,
my friend, I could not do
it. We have to suffer alone.
You cannot get someone to
substitute for you.
Suffering is one thing that
we cannot share. Mental
anguish is another type of
suffering that you cannot
share. Oh, the number of
folk who are disappointed.
They are even bitter today
because of some great
disappointment. Suffering is
a burden that we have to
bear alone.
DEATH
There is
another burden that you and
I cannot share with anyone
else. It is death. There
will come a time when each
of us will go down through
the valley of the shadow of
death, and we will go alone.
Thomas Hobbes, an agnostic
all of his life, a very
brilliant man, said when he
came to his death, “I am
taking a fearful leap into
the dark!” And then he cried
out, “Oh, God, it is
lonely!” Yes, it is. Death
is a burden you cannot
share. John Haye, at one
time Secretary of State, was
quite a writer. He wrote a
poem portraying death
entitled “The Stirrup Cup,”
having in mind the
cavalrymen who used to drink
when they mounted their
steeds.
My
short and happy day is done
The
long and lonely night comes
on:
And at
my door the pale horse
stands
To
bear me forth to unknown
lands.
And, my
friend, when death comes,
you and I will be riding
alone. Death is a burden
that you will have to bear
alone.
THE BEMA
We come
now to the last burden we
will bear alone. It has an
unusual name, by the way. It
is the
Bema.
The
Bema
is the judgment seat of
Christ. It is not for the
unsaved; it is for
Christians. Oh yes, there is
a judgment for the
unbeliever, the Great White
Throne judgment described in
the twentieth chapter of
Revelation, but the
Bema
seat is for the Christian.
For we
must all appear before the
judgment seat of Christ,
that everyone may receive
the things done in his body,
according to that he hath
done, whether it be good or
bad.
(2 Corinthians 5:10)
Everything that we have done
in the flesh as Christians
is to be judged to see
whether or not we receive a
reward. Salvation is not in
question—that was settled
for the believer at the
cross of Christ. It is the
works of the believer that
are to be judged at the
Bema
seat.
So,
then, every one of us shall
give account of himself to
God.
(Romans 14:12)
Then Paul
puts down a principle which
is applicable to every
avenue of life, but is
specifically given to
believers:
Be not
deceived, God is not mocked,
for whatever a man soweth,
that shall he also reap.
(Galatians 6:7)
This
principle is true in the
realm of nature. You sow
cotton, you reap cotton. You
sow wheat, you reap wheat.
And as a Christian you will
reap what you sow. We like
to sing “The Old Account Was
Settled Long Ago.” In a
believer’s life this is
true. But what about the new
account? What about the
account since you were
saved? What has your life
been since you accepted
Christ? Do you have sin in
your life? Have you
confessed it? We are all to
appear before the judgment
seat of Christ.
Somebody
will say, “I’m a Christian.
I don’t have any sin.” You
don’t? Then you are not in
the light. If you will get
into the light, you will see
the sin that is in your
life. The light, which is
the Word of God, reveals
what is there.
Try this
one on for size: “Therefore,
to him that knoweth to do
good, and doeth it not, to
him it is sin” (James 4:17).
Does that fit you today? I
think it will fit all of us.
He that knows to do good,
and does it not,
sins.
Your life as a child of God
is a burden that you carry,
and you will have to bring
it before Him someday.
A BURDEN YOU CAN NEITHER
BEAR NOR SHARE
Now as I
bring this message to a
conclusion, I want you to
see that there is another
type of burden which you
cannot bear nor can you
share. It is a burden the
Scriptures speak of: the
burden of sin. Paul speaks
of it in the first part of
Romans. David in the Psalms
says:
For
mine iniquities are gone
over mine head; like an
heavy burden they are too
heavy for me.
(Psalm 38:4)
Sin is a
burden you cannot share with
anyone else. And sin is a
burden you cannot bear, my
friend. “My iniquities,”
David says, “are gone over
my head; as a heavy burden
they are too heavy for me.”
Also from the Psalms comes
this longing:
And I
said, Oh, that I had wings
like a dove! For then would
I fly away, and be at rest.
(Psalm 55:6)
Have you
ever felt like that?
Sometimes the doctor
recommends that we get away
from it all. The psalmist
said, “If I could only run
away from it.” But you and I
cannot run away from our sin
because we have a guilt
complex. A psychologist out
here at the University of
Southern California tells me
that the guilt complex is as
much a part of us as our
right arm. Psychologists
have tried to get rid of it.
They have not succeeded.
Everyone has it. Sir Arthur
Conan Doyle, the writer of
detective stories and
creator of Sherlock Holmes,
liked to play practical
jokes. At one time he sent a
telegram to twelve famous
people in London whom he
knew. The telegram read,
“Flee at once. All is
discovered.” All twelve of
them left the country—yet
all of them were upright
citizens. May I say to you,
my beloved, we all have a
guilt complex. Sin is that
burden which we can neither
share nor bear. It is too
heavy for us.
There is
only one place you can get
rid of it, and that is at
the cross of Christ:
Cast
thy burden upon the
Lord,
and he shall sustain thee;
he shall never suffer the
righteous to be moved.
(Psalm 55:22)
The Lord
Jesus said:
Come
unto me, all ye that labor
and are heavy laden, and I
will give you rest.
(Matthew 11:28)
He alone
can lift the burden of sin
today, and it is because He
paid the penalty for it. He
alone can lift it; He alone
can take it from you.
There are
two famous pieces of
sculpture that depict this.
One is the “Dying Gaul” and
the other is “The Laocoön;”
both are in Rome at the
Vatican. “The Dying Gaul”
depicts a man who has been
brought as a captive and
slave to Rome, put into the
arena as a gladiator, and
has been mortally wounded.
He is lying there, his life
blood flowing from him, and
he is looking up for help.
He is in a strange land, and
there is nobody, nobody
there to help him. A dying
gladiator. May I say to you
that this is a picture of
any man today without
Christ. Christ alone can
help us, for that is the
reason He came into the
world. He said:
For
the Son of man is come to
seek and to save that which
was lost.
(Luke 19:10)
He also
said:
… The
Son of man came, not to be
ministered unto but to
minister, and to give his
life a ransom for many.
(Mark 10:45)
Christ
paid the penalty for your
sin and my sin. Like the
dying gladiator, we can look
to Him and be saved.
The other
piece of sculpture is “The
Laocoön.” A priest of Troy
looked out and saw two sea
serpents come and coil
themselves about his two
sons. He went to their aid,
but he could not help them
because the sea serpents
also enmeshed him in their
coils. There they are—all
three of them going down to
death. To me this
illustrates the fact that
personal sin is a burden
that we cannot cope with. It
will take us down to death,
eternal death.
What do
you
do with your burdens?
There are
some burdens that you can
share. There are others that
you must bear alone. But the
burden of personal sin is a
burden too heavy for you; it
is the burden you cannot
bear. About 2000 years ago
Christ took the burden of
your sin, and He bore it on
the cross. Today your burden
is either on you, or by
faith you have received
Christ as your Savior, and
it is now on Him. It cannot
be in both places—your sin
is either on you or it is on
Christ. And Christ does not
share
it; He bore it all.
Literally He said,
Come
unto me, all ye that labor
and are heavy laden, and I
will give you rest.
(Matthew 11:28)
*
All scripture
references in this
chapter are from the
New Scofield
Reference Bible.
McGee, J. Vernon:
On Comfort : Words
of Hope for the
Hurting.
electronic ed.
Nashville : Thomas
Nelson Publishers,
2000, c1994, S. 93
WHO IS MADE
WITHOUT FEAR?
“Who is made
without fear” is
a relative
clause in the
Book of Job
(41:33), but we
can turn it very
nicely into an
interrogative
clause and ask
the question,
“Who is made
without fear?”
Fears are
feelings that we
all share to
varying and
differing
degrees, and
there are
different kinds
of fears. We
sometimes smile
at the old
bromide that
women are afraid
of mice. But the
bravest man
would be
mortally afraid
if he knew he
were going to
give birth to a
baby! Actually,
there have been
hundreds of
babies born just
in the first few
hours of this
very day, and
the mothers
certainly have
had no band or
fanfare to make
the announcement
that they have
given birth.
Psychology lists
fear, along with
love and anger,
as one of the
strong and
complex emotions
of the human
species. The TV,
the theater, and
the novels take
these three
emotions and mix
them up like a
Betty Crocker
recipe. However,
they don’t
always come out
with the success
that Betty
Crocker seems to
have with hers.
It is doubtful
whether any
member of the
human family
anywhere is
devoid of fear.
If he is, he’s
an abnormal
individual. Fear
is as much a
part of our
human makeup as
eyes and nose
and mouth.
The psalmist
said that he
belonged to the
fraternity of
fear, and he
wrote, “I am a
companion of all
them that fear
thee …” (Psalm
119:63). By the
way, he said
that the
fraternity of
fear was a
secret
fraternity—he
said: “The
secret of the
Lord is
with them that
fear him …”
(Psalm 25:14).
David belonged
to a secret
fraternity of
those who fear
the Lord.
Fear was the
first outward
evidence and
manifestation of
the effect of
the disobedience
of Adam in the
Garden of Eden.
It was the first
symptom of sin.
For the very
first thing that
Adam did—and he
confessed it—was
to show fear.
“And he said, I
heard thy voice
in the garden,
and I was
afraid, because
I was naked …”
(Genesis 3:10).
The first thing
that this man
confessed was
that he was
afraid. From
that day, fear
entered into the
very web and
woof of mankind.
Man went out of
the Garden of
Eden and was
told that by the
sweat of his
brow he would
earn his bread.
Driven by hunger
and thirst and
fear, the human
family spread
over this earth.
The bravest of
men have feared.
Moses is a man
that no one
could call a
coward. Moses
stood before
Pharaoh, and the
Pharaoh before
whom he stood
was no petty
ruler. The man
was a world
ruler, and it
took a brave man
to deliver God’s
message to him.
Also Moses stood
before God
yonder on Mount
Sinai. It took a
brave man to do
that. In
addition, for
forty years he
stood before the
rebellious
Israelites. It
took a brave man
to do that. And
yet this man
Moses, in the
second chapter
of Exodus, wrote
of himself, “And
Moses feared,”
which is the
reason he left
the land of
Egypt at that
time.
David is a man
who is noted for
his bravery. But
if you read the
Psalms, you will
find that one of
the emotions he
mentions is
fear. David,
probably more
often than
anyone else,
describes the
gamut of
emotions that
sweep across the
human soul. He
plays upon the
soul, as God
does, as if it
were a
three–stringed
instrument—actually
one with 126
strings, for he
describes the
many emotions
that sweep
through the
human heart. He
was very frank
when he
mentioned fear.
He said: “What
time I am
afraid, I will
trust in thee”
(Psalm 56:3). He
admitted that he
was a man of
fear, yet here
is a man who is
known for his
bravery.
Elijah was a
brave man.
Elijah stood
before the
prophets of
Baal, and he
stood before
King Ahab. I
don’t know what
happened to him,
but I do know
this: there was
a great
breakdown in his
life when word
came from
Jezebel that she
would have him
killed. Elijah
turned and
ran!
He took off for
Beersheba,
wouldn’t stop
there, but went
as far into the
desert as he
could and
crawled
underneath a
juniper tree. He
does not
say
he is afraid,
but his actions
speak louder
than any words
he could give
us.
May I say to you
that you will
find that the
bravest of men
have been those
who have been
afraid. May I
also say that
all of us
experience
something that
fills our hearts
with fear.
Fear, down
through the
history of the
race, has been
looked upon as a
weakness of
mankind. It has
been looked upon
as a detriment.
Men have always
been applauded
for their
bravery; they
have been
ridiculed for
their fears.
“Only cowards
fear” is an
accepted cliché
even today, and
we are ashamed
of our fears.
It was
Shakespeare who
wrote, “Of all
base passions,
fear is the most
accursed.” Even
Emerson, the
Unitarian whom
many delight in
quoting, gives
this false
statement: “Fear
always springs
from ignorance!”
The most popular
books following
World War II
were books that
dealt with the
subject of fear,
with the general
theme of freedom
from fear.
My friend, the
Bible has never
gone along with
the worldly
philosophy and
popular fallacy
of the day. The
Bible does not
take the
position that
fear is
cowardly. I have
examined the
many words in
both the Old and
New Testaments
that are
translated by
the word “fear”
and have found
that they are
divided into
three
classifications.
There is the
fear that is
base and
cowardly,
craven,
contemptible,
and certainly to
be shunned.
There is another
fear that is
good and right
and helpful,
something that
is a blessing to
mankind.
Finally, there
is a third class
of words that
can be
translated
either good or
evil. You have
to look at the
context to see
whether it means
good or bad.
The very
interesting
thing is that
modern
psychology has
confirmed
Scripture in
this particular
division. The
fear instinct,
they tell us,
passes through
three stages.
There is a
stimulating
stage which is
good. For
example, you
experience fear
if you wake up
at night and the
house is on
fire. Your
pituitary gland
immediately
sends out an
alarm to the
adrenal gland,
and the adrenal
gland sends out
into the
bloodstream some
extra energy so
that you are
able to jump and
run and yell
like you never
did before. And
after you get
outside the
house, you
wonder how in
the world you
ever did it. My
friend, that
kind of fear is
good. And the
Scripture speaks
of that kind of
fear that leads
to action, the
fear that
motivates you.
Then there is
the second
stage. It is
called the
arrestive or the
inhibitory
stage. It can be
good, provided a
person does not
stay in that
stage. He might
be there for a
moment, but if
he stays there
it is dangerous,
for then he
moves to the
third stage
which is the
paralyzing
stage.
Paralyzing fear
is bad because
it leads to all
sorts of
different
complexes. You
find people
today who are
afraid of germs.
I knew a lady
years ago who
would not open a
door without
taking out a
handkerchief to
put over the
doorknob; or, if
she did open the
door with her
hand, she would
go and wash her
hands—not with
common soap, but
with soap that
would destroy
germs! She was
off on that
particular
thing.
Then there are
people today who
are afraid of
open spaces.
They will not go
across even a
vacant lot.
There are other
people who are
afraid of
crowds. And then
I do believe
there is another
form. I’ve never
seen it
listed—it must
be common only
to Southern
California—and
that is the fear
of rain. I say
this
facetiously, of
course.
As we’ve gone
through the Word
of God and
attempted to
make a careful
study of the
subject of fear,
I believe that
fear
can be divided
into two major
classifications.
The first fear
is fear of God,
and that is
good. That leads
to action. Also
there is the
fear of man, and
that kind of
fear, my
beloved, leads
to inaction. It
is the kind that
leads to
paralysis.
It was said of
Cromwell that he
was the bravest
man who ever
lived. Someone
asked Cromwell
one day what was
the secret of
his bravery and
why he was
considered such
a brave man. His
answer was
something like
this: “I’ve
learned from the
Word of God that
if you fear God
you will not
have any man to
fear.” May I say
to you, this is
the secret David
learned. He
wrote:
In God have I
put my trust: I
will not be
afraid what man
can do unto me.
(Psalm 56:11)
This is so
important that
when you move
over to the New
Testament, you
find this
statement:
So that we may
boldly say, The
Lord is my
helper, and I
will not fear
what man shall
do unto me.
(Hebrews 13:6)
My beloved,
today you either
have a fear of
God or you have
a fear of man.
Either you are
afraid of those
things that are
about you and
what men say and
what men do, or
you are afraid
of God.
Somebody will
object, “I don’t
think we ought
to be afraid of
God.” I believe
that this is
something today
that needs
emphasizing as
it never has
been emphasized
before,
especially in
our fundamental
circles where we
have assumed a
familiarity with
God which the
Scriptures will
not warrant at
all. Somehow or
other God is
regarded as only
a great big
brother whom we
pat on the back
in most familiar
terms. I say to
you today,
friend, we do
well to fear
God. And if we
fear Him, we
will not have
any man to fear.
In this message
I would like to
identify some
common fears. I
do not want to
be theoretical;
I want to be
practical and
pragmatic. And I
want to limit
our observations
to two fears
that are common
today. If we
fear God, we
will be
delivered from
these fears.
THE FEAR OF
LONELINESS
The fear of
being alone,
when it is
carried to an
exaggerated
degree, is a
form of
psychasthenia.
People who are
obsessed with
this fear can’t
stand to be
alone. My
friend, today
only God can
deliver you from
the fear of
loneliness.
A pastor who
does any
counseling at
all encounters
many cases of
marital problems
in which couples
are not well
mated. He will
often ask the
question of
women, very fine
Christian women
generally, “Why
did you marry
this man who is
so inferior to
you, who is on a
much lower level
than you are?”
The answer women
give—I’ve heard
it again and
again—is this:
“Well, I was
getting up in
years, and I was
afraid I might
have to go
through life
alone.” I want
to say to you
that most of
them wish they
had
gone through
alone because
loneliness is
something they
should not have
feared at all.
The bunco squad
of the police
department will
tell you today
that the
confidence men,
especially in
Southern
California, prey
on unsuspecting
folk, both men
and women, who
are alone and
lonely.
A number of
years ago a book
came out by a
single woman who
was the editor
of a popular
magazine. The
title of the
book was
How to Live
Alone and Like
It.
But when you
read her book,
you know she was
whistling in the
dark and singing
in the rain. She
had not solved
her problem at
all.
Many young
people are
afraid to take a
stand for Christ
because they’ve
reached that age
where they have
herd instinct,
and they say,
“What would the
gang say? I’d
lose my friends.
I have the feel
of the pack, and
I want to be
with them. If I
take a stand for
Christ, I will
lose my friends,
and I will be
alone.”
Likewise there
are multitudes
of older men and
women today who
could take a
stand for Jesus
Christ, but they
are saying,
“What would my
friends say?
What would my
business
associates
think? What
would my social
cronies think of
me if I took a
stand for
Christ?”
Let me say to
you carefully
that multitudes
are going into a
lost eternity
because they are
afraid of man.
They ought to be
afraid of God.
There’s no
reason to be
afraid of
loneliness.
God’s men have
always been
lonely men. They
have lived alone
and liked it.
Noah was not
invited out to
all the social
functions of his
day. Noah stood
alone for God.
Abraham may have
been the most
popular man in
Ur of the
Chaldees. It was
a city with a
high
civilization.
Archaeology
tells us that
life in Ur of
the Chaldees was
pleasant in
Abraham’s day.
Undoubtedly he
had many friends
and was
successful in
business. One
day God called
him. And, my
friend, it meant
loneliness for
that man for the
rest of his
life.
Daniel was in a
foreign court,
which was bad
enough, but this
man took a stand
for God.
Probably no man
has ever lived a
more lonely life
than did Daniel.
Saul of Tarsus
may have been
the most popular
Pharisee in
Jerusalem. But
Saul of Tarsus
one day met
Jesus Christ,
and that man
walked alone
during the rest
of his life.
Martin Luther
had a great many
things to take
into
consideration
when the truth
of justification
by faith broke
over his soul.
When he looked
about him, he
saw that all of
his friends were
on the opposite
side. One day
that man took a
stand for God,
and it paid. He
made this
statement later
on, “One with
God is a
majority.”
My friend, to
the man or the
woman who will
take a stand for
Jesus Christ and
will face the
fear of mankind,
God says,
When thou
passest through
the waters, I
will be with
thee; and
through the
rivers, they
shall not
overflow thee:
when thou
walkest through
the fire, thou
shalt not be
burned; neither
shall the flame
kindle upon
thee.
(Isaiah 43:2)
Let your
conversation
[manner of life]
be without
covetousness and
be content with
such things as
ye have: for he
hath said, I
will never leave
thee nor forsake
thee.
(Hebrews 13:5)
The Lord Jesus
said to His own
when He was
leaving them and
they were to
face difficult
days,
I will not leave
you comfortless:
I will come to
you.
(John 14:18)
The word
comfortless
is the Greek
word
orphanos.
We get our word
orphans
from that. Jesus
said, “I will
not leave you
orphans—I will
come to you.”
Then He said to
them before He
left,
… lo, I am with
you alway, even
unto the end of
the world….
(Matthew 28:20)
My friend, to be
a man–pleaser
for fear of
loneliness is to
deny yourself
fellowship with
God who will
never forsake
you and never
leave you
lonely. Paul,
near the end of
his life, could
write,
At my first
answer no man
stood with me,
but all men
forsook me: I
pray God that it
may not be laid
to their charge.
Notwithstanding
the Lord stood
with me, and
strengthened me;
that by me the
preaching might
be fully known,
and that all the
Gentiles might
hear: and I was
delivered out of
the mouth of the
lion.
(2 Timothy 4:16,
17)
Multitudes down
through the ages
have overcome
this awful fear,
this fear of
loneliness, by
taking a stand
for Jesus
Christ.
THE FEAR OF
DEATH AND
JUDGMENT
The fear of
death and
judgment is the
final fear that
I’d like to
mention to you.
I know that at
the present hour
the fact of
judgment after
death is called
a superstition,
that it is
considered a
hangover from
the Dark Ages,
or that we can
dismiss it as
psychological
vestigial
remains from the
Paleozoic
period.
My friend, today
death and
judgment are an
awful reality.
You may have
your brain
washed by modern
thinking, but
you never get
rid of death and
judgment.
I heard a
whimsical story
of a man who
went to the
psychiatrist.
When the
psychiatrist
asked, “What’s
your trouble?”
the patient
said, “I owe a
man $5,000 and I
can’t pay it. It
has preyed on my
mind so much
that I actually
think I’m losing
my mind. I can’t
even sleep at
night.”
“Have you signed
a note?”
“No.”
“Was anybody a
witness to it?”
“No.”
“Well, the thing
for you to do is
to forget it.
Since it has
been bothering
you, the
solution is to
get it out of
your mind. Now
I’m going to rub
it out of your
mind so you’ll
actually forget
it.”
The psychiatrist
did such a
wonderful job
that the fellow
got up off the
couch and said,
“I don’t even
remember the
name of the man
that I owe money
to.” He started
to leave.
The psychiatrist
said, “Just a
minute. You owe
me $50.00 for
that treatment.”
The man asked,
“What
treatment?”
My friend, you
may not be
brainwashed like
that, but
multitudes of
people in this
society in which
we live
are
brainwashed. And
you can’t
dismiss death
and judgment
with a wave of
the hand. We do
well today to
fear death and
judgment. The
Scripture says,
He, that being
often reproved
hardeneth his
neck, shall
suddenly be
destroyed, and
that without
remedy.
(Proverbs 29:1)
Paul went in
before Felix,
the Roman
governor, not to
defend himself
but to present
to him the
claims of
Christ. The
record in Acts
24 says that he
reasoned with
Felix concerning
righteousness,
the
righteousness of
Christ;
self–control,
how Christ could
control a man;
and then the
third thing,
judgment to come.
In other words,
if Felix turned
his back on
Jesus Christ, he
was going before
a holy God, and
it would be a
frightful
eternity ahead
of him. Hearing
that, Felix
trembled with
fear and
dismissed Paul
because he did
not want to hear
any more about
it at all (see
Acts 24:25).
The Scripture
says, “The fear
of the
Lord is
the beginning of
wisdom …”
(Proverbs 9:10).
Fear of the Lord
is a reverential
fear. It is not
a fear which is
base or craven.
Rather, it is a
fear of God that
comes through
reverence,
knowing that our
God is a high
and holy God and
that He must
punish sin.
The Scriptures
give a beatitude
to those who
fear the Lord:
“… Blessed is
the man that
feareth the
Lord …
(Psalm 112:1).
This week I
discovered a
verse that I
don’t remember
noticing before:
Happy is the man
that feareth
alway: but he
that hardeneth
his heart shall
fall into
mischief.
(Proverbs 28:14)
It is amazing
how up to date
that verse is.
There’s the
stimulating
stage of
fear—“Happy is
the man that
feareth alway,”
stimulated by
fear and brought
to a high and
holy God through
Christ. “But he
that hardeneth
his heart shall
fall into
mischief” is the
paralyzing
stage, my
beloved. One of
the things that
is said of the
apostates in the
last days is
that they feed
themselves
without fear:
These are spots
in your feasts
of charity, when
they feast with
you, feeding
themselves
without fear:
clouds they are
without water,
carried about of
winds; trees
whose fruit
withereth,
without fruit,
twice dead,
plucked up by
the roots.
(Jude 12)
Today God has
put fear in your
heart. That
fear, my
beloved, can be
your salvation,
or it can be
your undoing.
Fear is not
something that
is always base
or craven. If
it’s a fear of
God, it is good.
However, if you
are fearing men
today and living
to please them,
it is a terrible
thing.
I never shall
forget the night
that word came
on the radio
that the New
London School in
East Texas had
exploded and
that over three
hundred boys and
girls had been
killed. I was
speaking the
next morning on
a radio program
in Dallas,
Texas, and on
that broadcast I
directed
everything I had
to say to the
parents and
loved ones of
those boys and
girls. We had
cards and
letters from New
England, from
Cuba, from
Mexico—from all
over the
country. A
friend of mine,
a former
schoolmate, was
a pastor in the
East Texas oil
fields at the
time of the
explosion. He
told me this
story:
“In the parish
in which I was
the pastor,
there lived a
man who had
become suddenly
rich. He was a
Texan who had
become oil rich,
even had put up
a small refinery
and had already
made several
millions of
dollars. He had
built a lovely
home. He had a
wife and two
fine boys. The
wife and two
boys were
Christians, but
the man was the
worst blasphemer
I have ever met
in my life. I’ve
never heard a
man talk as that
man would talk.
He would
blaspheme God
and curse God.
His wife was so
concerned about
him that she
asked me to go
see him. I went
to see him, and
I had never been
treated like
that in my
life—he cursed
me from the time
I opened my
mouth until I
got out of
earshot. He
called me
everything that
was in the book
and some things
I didn’t know
were in the
book. He was
vile. His wife
and one of his
little boys took
sick during the
flu epidemic,
and both died at
the same time. I
went over that
night to see him
again.
“There sat the
father and his
one remaining
little son. When
I went over and
sat down beside
them and began
to talk, he
began to abuse
me again, and
curse—I’ve never
heard anything
like it! It was
vile beyond
description. He
repeatedly
blasphemed God’s
name. There was
nothing left for
me to do but get
up and walk out
of there, which
I did. When I
conducted the
funeral, the man
would not even
speak to me.
After that
experience he
became more
vile, but all of
the love that he
had had for his
family (and that
seemed to be the
only thing about
the man that was
a redeeming
feature) was now
turned to his
little boy who
was left.
“Well, that
little boy was
in the New
London School
when the
explosion
occurred. When
the man heard of
the explosion,
he went out to
that school and
searched through
the rubble like
a madman until
he found the
torn and twisted
and broken body
of his little
boy. He took it
in his arms and
walked up and
down that
schoolyard like
a maniac until
someone actually
had to take it
away from him
and take it to
the funeral
home. You know,
I felt it was my
duty to go and
talk with him,
so that night I
went over to
that big home. I
went in, and
there was that
little
whitecasket, and
there he sat in
the same place
he had sat
before. I just
steeled myself
for the cursing
that I was to
get. I was
afraid to say
anything. I just
sat down. Then
that great big
hulk of a fellow
looked up—and he
hadn’t cried
before—but now
there were tears
in his eyes.
Instead of
cursing me, he
said, ‘God has
been after me
all the time.
He’s tried to
speak to me all
my life, and I
turned my back
on Him. He took
my wife and my
other little
boy, and I knew
He was talking
to me. But I was
afraid of what
people might
say—those I
worked with and
was associated
with. Oh, what a
coward I’ve
been! And now
God had to take
this one. Well,
God can have me
now.’ And that
man got down on
his knees and
took Christ as
his Savior.”
The last time I
saw that pastor
friend of mine
he told me that
the oil man was
still serving
God.
Friend, today
you do well to
fear God. But if
you trust Him,
have committed
your life to
Him, have taken
Him as Savior,
then you can say
with David,
The
Lord
is my shepherd;
I shall not
want…. Yea,
though I walk
through the
valley of the
shadow of death,
I will fear no
evil: for thou
art with me….
(Psalm 23:1, 4)
And it’s only
then that you
can experience
the truth of the
Scripture that
says, “… Perfect
love casteth out
fear …” (1 John
4:18).
Maybe you have
never trusted
Christ; or if
you have, you
have been afraid
to take a stand
for Him. Has
fear filled your
heart—fear of
men or fear of
something else?
My friend, bring
your fears to
God and fear
Him. When you
fear Him, you
will have no one
else to fear.
McGee,
J.
Vernon:
On
Comfort
: Words
of Hope
for the
Hurting.
electronic
ed.
Nashville
: Thomas
Nelson
Publishers,
2000,
c1994,
S. 117
—— 7
——
WHAT
DO
YOU
DO
WITH
YOUR
PAST?
Today,
as
you
look
back
over
your
shoulder,
what
do
you
see?
Do
you
see
that
which
brings
joy
and
satisfaction
to
your
heart?
Or
do
you
see
that
which
brings
distress,
heartbreak,
and
shame
to
your
life?
I’m
wondering—are
we
prepared
to
make
a
true
assessment,
a
regular
inventory,
of
this
past
year,
with
all
of
its
happenings
as
far
as
we
are
concerned?
Well,
there’s
one
axiom
that
we
can
lay
down
for
all
the
years
that
preceded
it:
The
past
is
gone,
and
there
is
positively
nothing
that
we
can
do
about
it.
You
and
I
cannot
change
one
event
or
one
experience.
In a
great
American
drama,
one
of
the
first
ever
written,
titled
“The
Great
Divide,”
one
of
the
leading
characters
says
this,
“Wrong
is
wrong
from
the
moment
it
happens
until
the
crack
of
doom,
and
all
the
angels
in
heaven
working
overtime
cannot
make
it
different
or
less
by a
half.”
May
I
say
to
you
that
this
might
be
true
in
American
drama,
but
Paul
the
apostle
said
that
there
is
something
a
Christian
can
do
about
the
past.
In
fact,
Paul
made
it
very
personal.
Paul
said
that
there
was
something
that
he
did
concerning
the
past.
Will
you
listen
to
him:
Brethren,
I
count
not
myself
to
have
apprehended:
but
this
one
thing
I
do,
forgetting
those
things
which
are
behind,
and
reaching
forth
unto
those
things
which
are
before,
I
press
toward
the
mark
for
the
prize
of
the
high
calling
of
God
in
Christ
Jesus.
(Philippians
3:13,
14)
He
says,
“This
one
thing
I
do.”
That
is a
simple
statement
of
the
simple
life.
In
the
complex
civilization
in
which
we
are
living,
we
need
to
sharpen
it
down
to
one
point
and
be
able
to
say,
“This
one
thing
I
do.”
Most
us
today,
even
in
Christian
work,
are
busy
with
pots
and
pans
as
Martha
was.
We
are
busy
with
this
and
that,
and
we
have
quite
a
few
things
we
are
attempting
to
bring
to a
boil.
But
the
interesting
thing
is
that
we
don’t
seem
to
be
able
to
watch
all
of
them.
But
Paul
says,
“This
one
thing
I
do.”
Call
it
the
power
of
concentration
if
you
will,
or
call
it
the
consolidation
of
purpose,
or
call
it
singleness
of
heart.
Call
it
anything,
but
it’s
something
that
is
needed
in
our
Christian
lives
today.
In
fact,
it
is
Bible
all
the
way
through.
David
said
this:
“One
thing
have
I
desired
of
the
Lord,
that
will
I
seek
after
…”
(Psalm
27:4).
David
had
reduced
his
life
to
the
lowest
common
denominator.
In
this
day
of
nervous
activity,
this
day
of
ceaseless
motion,
this
day
of
building
tensions—oh,
to
reduce
our
lives
down
to
this
one
point
and
be
able
to
say,
“This
one
thing
I
do.”
What
is
this
one
thing
that
Paul
did?
Well,
I
lift
out
only
one
phrase
from
Philippians
3:13:
“Forgetting
those
things
which
are
behind:”
As
we
look
back,
there
are
many
things
that
we
are
to
forget.
And
this
is
what
Paul
did
with
a
great
deal
of
his
past.
On
the
other
hand,
God
gave
us
memories,
and
there
are
certain
things
we
are
to
remember.
As
Someone
has
put
it,
“God
gave
us
memories
so
that
we
could
have
roses
in
December.”
The
Bible
has
a
great
deal
to
say
about
remembering.
Like
a
bugle
blast,
the
word
remember
goes
all
the
way
through
the
Word
of
God.
God
says
to
man,
“Remember!”
He
said
to
the
children
of
Israel,
when
He
brought
them
out
of
the
land
of
bondage,
“Remember
this
day,
in
which
ye
came
out
from
Egypt,
out
of
the
house
of
bondage
…”
(Exodus
13:3).
They
were
to
remember
this
and
never
forget
it.
You
find
as
you
go
through
the
Scripture—and
it’s
quite
interesting
to
notice—how
the
word
remember
is
usually
associated
with
God
and
the
word
forget
is
associated
with
man.
God
is
the
One
who
remembers
better
than
we
do.
You
find
toward
the
beginning
of
Genesis
that
God
remembered
Noah.
And
you
find
man
is
constantly
forgetting
until
finally
the
psalmist
sums
it
all
up
by
saying,
“They
forgot
God
their
saviour
…”
(Psalm
106:21).
And
that
was
tragic.
They
were
not
to
forget
God!
The
Scriptures
are
clear
on
the
fact
that
to
forget
certain
things
is
sin.
All
the
way
through
the
Bible
He
says
to
us,
“Remember.”
“Remember
now
thy
Creator
in
the
days
of
thy
youth
…”
(Ecclesiastes
12:1).
And
even
after
you
leave
this
life,
my
beloved,
you
are
still
called
upon
to
remember,
and
you’ll
remember
throughout
the
endless
ages
of
eternity.
It
is
in
Luke
16
that
Abraham
in
sheol
said
to
the
rich
man
yonder
in
torment,
“Remember.”
And
to
take
a
memory
like
his
into
eternity,
my
friend,
wouldn’t
need
much
fire
to
make
it a
hell!
Although
there
are
some
things
that
we
are
to
remember,
there
are
other
things
that
we
are
to
forget.
In
the
biography
of
Richard
III—that
villain
who
wore
a
crown—the
author
said
of
him,
“He
forgot
the
things
he
should
have
remembered,
and
he
remembered
the
things
he
should
have
forgotten.”
And
how
true
this
is
of
many
of
us
today.
There
are
certain
things
we
should
remember,
but
there
are
certain
things
that
we
should
forget.
Many
a
man
goes
through
life
shackled
and
crippled
because
he
will
not
forget
the
things
he
should
forget.
We
are
not
dealing
here
in
generalities.
What
are
some
of
the
things
we
are
to
forget?
I
want
to
deal
with
specifics
and
mention
some
of
them—not
all
of
them,
I’m
sure—but
some
of
them.
STUPIDITIES
The
first
one
that
I
would
like
to
mention
is
stupidities
or
blunders.
We
should
forget
our
blunders.
What
blunderers
we
all
are,
and
what
blunders
we
make!
Or
perhaps
I’m
wrong
in
including
you.
Perhaps
you
do
not
commit
blunders,
but
I
do.
To
be
frank,
we
all
make
blunders,
don’t
we?
Well,
let’s
forget
them.
In
“forgetting
the
things
which
are
behind,”
we
are
to
forget
our
blunders.
Sometimes
we
put
our
clumsy
hands
on
the
heartstrings
of a
friend
and
do
damage
that
we
did
not
mean
to
do.
I
imagine
there
are
some
even
today
who
are
saying,
“Oh,
as I
look
back
over
the
past
year,
I
said
something
I
wish
I
had
not
said.
I
wish
I
had
bitten
off
my
tongue.”
Or,
“I
did
something
this
past
year
I’m
sorry
I
did.
I
would
not
have
done
it
intentionally
for
anything
in
the
world.”
My
friend,
may
I
say
this
to
you:
Correct
what
you’ve
done
and
then
forget
it!
“Forgetting
those
things
which
are
behind.”
As
you
know,
Simon
Peter
was
a
great
blunderer.
Matthew
14:28–31
records
the
incident
of
Peter
walking
on
water.
Peter
said
to
our
Lord
out
yonder
on
the
Sea
of
Galilee,
“Bid
me
come
unto
thee
on
the
water.”
Now
don’t
say
that
Simon
Peter
didn’t
walk
on
the
water
because
he
did.
He
started
out
and
probably
took
quite
a
few
steps.
But,
you
see,
this
fellow
was
so
in
the
habit
of
stumbling
that
he
even
had
to
stumble
walking
on
water!
He
took
his
eyes
off
his
Lord,
saw
those
boisterous
waves
and
began
to
sink.
Then
you
may
recall
the
incident
yonder
at
Caesarea
Philippi:
When
Jesus
came
into
the
coasts
of
Caesarea
Philippi,
he
asked
his
disciples,
saying,
Whom
do
men
say
that
I
the
Son
of
man
am?
And
they
said,
Some
say
that
thou
art
John
the
Baptist:
some,
Elias;
and
others,
Jeremias,
or
one
of
the
prophets.
He
saith
unto
them,
But
whom
say
ye
that
I
am?
And
Simon
Peter
answered
and
said,
Thou
art
the
Christ,
the
Son
of
the
living
God.
(Matthew
16:13–16)
Having
given
that
glorious
confession
of
faith,
“Thou
art
the
Christ,
the
Son
of
the
living
God,”
he
later
opened
his
mouth
and
said
something
he
should
not
have
said.
In
Matthew
16:21–23,
when
our
Lord
forewarned
the
disciples
that
He
was
going
to
Jerusalem
to
die,
Peter
took
Him
aside
and
rebuked
Him.
“Be
it
far
from
thee,
Lord:
this
shall
not
be
unto
thee.”
What
a
blunderer!
And
then
yonder
as
they
left
the
Upper
Room,
our
Lord
said,
“This
night
you
will
forsake
Me.
As
sheep
are
scattered,
tonight
you
will
be
scattered”
(see
Matthew
26:31–35).
And
Simon
Peter
said,
“Though
all
men
shall
be
offended
because
of
thee,
yet
will
I
never
be
offended.”
Again,
what
a
blunderer.
But,
thank
God,
this
man
Peter
knew
how
to
get
up,
dust
himself
off,
forget
those
things
that
were
behind,
and
press
on
to
those
things
which
were
before
him.
This
man
on
the
day
of
Pentecost,
without
mentioning
his
own
base
denial,
stands
up
before
his
countrymen
and
says,
Therefore
let
all
the
house
of
Israel
know
assuredly,
that
God
hath
made
that
same
Jesus,
whom
ye
have
crucified,
both
Lord
and
Christ.
(Acts
2:36)
It
brought
conviction,
and
thousands
turned
to
Christ!
May
I
say
to
you
that
Paul
also
was
a
blunderer—Peter
didn’t
have
a
monopoly
on
it,
you
know.
In
Acts
15:36–39
Paul
could
say
in
effect,
“I
don’t
want
John
Mark
with
me.
He
failed
on
the
first
missionary
journey,
and
I
will
not
give
him
a
second
chance.”
It
was
a
mistake
not
to
give
John
Mark
another
chance,
and
there
came
a
day
when
Paul
acknowledged
he
had
been
wrong.
In
his
final
epistle,
his
swan
song,
he
wrote:
“Take
Mark,
and
bring
him
with
thee,
for
he
is
profitable
to
me
for
the
ministry”
(2
Timothy
4:11).
Paul
blundered,
but
he
corrected
it
and
went
on.
SENSITIVITIES
What
is a
sensitivity?
Well,
that’s
the
quality
or
state
of
being
sensitive.
To
our
stupidities
of
the
past
we
add
our
sensitivities.
We
are
living
in
an
age
in
which
transportation
and
communication,
the
increase
of
population,
mass
production,
and
urban
life
have
brought
us
all
together.
And
we
are
closer
than
we
have
ever
been.
When
you
get
people
close
together,
they
are
going
to
rub
against
each
other.
And
when
you
rub
any
two
things
together,
you
get
friction.
And
when
you
get
friction,
you
get
aggravation—and
none
of
the
major
oil
companies
have
an
oil
product
that
will
relieve
this
kind
of
friction!
Our
contemporary
society
is a
hotbed
of
rivalries
and
competition
and
alienations
and
personality
conflicts.
In
this
rough–and–tumble
day
in
which
we
live,
my
friend,
you
are
going
to
get
hurt.
Somebody
is
going
to
offend
you.
You’re
bound
to
be
wounded
in
life’s
struggle.
What
are
you
to
do?
Oh,
how
many
people
up
to
this
present
moment
are
still
nursing
a
grudge
and
a
hurt.
Today
you
may
be
carrying
ill
feelings
and
spreading
among
God’s
people
disruption
and
disturbance.
What
are
you
to
do?
Forget
them!
“Forgetting
those
things
which
are
behind.”
There
is a
plant
that
is
peculiar
to
the
American
continent.
It
is
known
as
the
sensitive
plant.
Its
botanical
name
is
mimosa
pudica.
The
characteristic
of
this
little
plant
is
that
the
minute
it
is
touched
by
human
hand,
the
stalk
withers
and
the
leaves
curl
up
and
close
tightly.
There
are
a
lot
of
human
beings
who
are
sensitive
plants
in
America
today.
And
they
come
in
under
the
classification
of
mimosa
pudica.
Oh,
my
friend,
don’t
let
your
life
be
ruined!
In
the
Bible,
the
Book
of
Esther
tells
about
a
man
who
was
like
that.
His
name
was
Haman.
He
was
a
little
man,
little
in
mental
stature,
little
in
his
emotions,
little
in
his
character.
He
was
the
great
anti–Semite,
and
do
you
know
what
teed
him
off?
Well,
the
king
of
Persia,
Ahasuerus,
had
elevated
Haman
to
the
highest
position
in
the
kingdom
and
had
made
him
prime
minister.
At
the
entrance
to
the
city
there
was
a
judge,
just
a
petty
judge,
by
the
name
of
Mordecai.
Word
had
been
sent
around
to
all
the
politicians
that
since
Haman
had
been
promoted
to
such
a
high
office,
they
were
to
bow
before
him.
And
they
all
bowed,
except
that
little
fellow
Mordecai.
Now
Mordecai
was
little
physically,
but
he
had
great
moral
courage.
He
refused
to
bow.
You
see,
he
was
a
Jew
who
was
true
to
his
God.
He
had
been
taught
from
the
Old
Testament
that
he
was
to
worship
no
one
except
the
Lord
his
God;
so
he
just
would
not
bow,
that
was
all.
You
would
think
that
Haman
as
the
prime
minister
would
be
big
enough
to
overlook
it.
But
not
Haman.
Haman
went
home
and
complained
to
his
wife—you
really
find
out
about
a
fellow
in
what
he
tells
his
wife!
He
said
to
her,
“Here
the
king
has
lifted
me
up
and
made
me
prime
minister,
and
I am
in
this
exalted
position,
but
I’m
not
happy
because
there
is a
little
fellow
by
the
name
of
Mordecai
who
won’t
bow
to
me!”
Because
his
feelings
were
hurt,
he
started
a
wave
of
anti–Semitism!
My
friend,
don’t
be
little.
Some
people
today
are
bleeders,
hemophiliacs,
and
I am
told
that
the
bleeding
cannot
be
stanched.
Also
some
folk
are
“bleeders”
in
the
social
realm.
They
get
pinched
or
hurt,
and
they
start
bleeding—and
there
are
not
blood
transfusions
to
keep
them
alive.
Oh,
my
friend,
today
as
you
look
back
into
the
past,
have
you
received
personal
injury?
Then
forget
it.
“Forgetting
those
things
which
are
behind.”
SUCCESSES
There
is a
third
thing
that
we
are
to
forget:
our
successes.
We
are
to
forget
not
only
our
stupidities,
not
only
our
sensitivities,
but
also
our
successes.
Candidly,
success
is
the
most
difficult
of
all
to
forget.
Paul
could
say
this:
“… I
have
learned,
in
whatsoever
state
I
am,
therewith
to
be
content.
I
know
both
how
to
be
abased,
and
I
know
how
to
abound
…”
(Philippians
4:11,
12).
To
abound,
to
be
successful,
is
most
difficult
to
forget.
Dr.
Harry
Ironside
used
to
tell
the
story
of
what
happened
to
him
in
Grand
Rapids.
He
went
there
every
year
to
speak
at
Mel
Trotter’s
mission
while
Mel
Trotter
was
still
alive.
One
year
when
he
went
up
there,
he
found
that
a
fine–looking
new
hotel
had
been
built
and
that
he
was
booked
in
this
new
hotel,
up
on
the
top
floor
in a
suite
of
rooms!
He
had
never
had
anything
like
that
before.
It
was
luxury
personified.
He
went
around
just
looking
at
everything
in
the
room,
all
brand
new.
He
came
at
last
to
the
door,
for
they
had
to
publish
the
price
of
the
room.
When
Dr.
Ironside
saw
the
price,
he
went
immediately
to
the
telephone,
called
Mel
Trotter,
and
said,
“Look,
Mel,
you
don’t
have
to
put
me
in a
room
like
this!
If
you
could
just
get
me a
room
somewhere
with
a
desk
so I
can
study
and
a
bed
for
me
to
sleep
in
and
a
washbasin
so I
can
wash
my
face,
that’s
all
I
want,
and
that’s
all
I’m
accustomed
to.”
Mel
Trotter,
in
his
characteristic
manner,
said,
“Look,
Harry,
the
manager
of
that
hotel
was
saved
several
years
ago
at
the
mission.
He
was
an
alcoholic,
a
drunk.
He’s
never
been
able,
he
says,
to
repay
me.
And
so
when
he
put
up
this
new
hotel,
he
said,
‘I’ll
reserve
the
top
floor
suite
for
every
speaker
you
have.’
Now,
Harry,
it
won’t
cost
me a
penny,
and
it
doesn’t
cost
the
mission
a
penny.
Learn
how
to
abound
for
the
next
week.”
It
is
hard
to
know
how
to
abound,
my
beloved.
Many
of
us
know
how
to
be
abased,
but
very
few
of
us
know
how
to
abound.
You
and
I
live
in a
land
where
success
is
the
watchword.
In
America
we
measure
a
man
with
the
dollar
sign.
How
much
money
has
he
made?
Has
he
been
a
success
in
business?
We
measure
a
man
by
the
schools
where
he
was
educated,
by
his
job,
and
by
his
influence.
My
beloved,
these
values
I
think
are
wrong.
Many
a
man
is
called
a
success
who
is a
sorry
failure
at
home.
Many
a
person
today
has
a
name
of
fame
that
makes
the
headlines
but
is a
rotten
failure
in
marriage.
Do
you
know
that
Samuel,
one
of
God’s
men,
was
a
failure
in
his
home?
Oh,
I
tell
you,
his
life
sounds
like
a
success
story
until
you
read
the
following
verses
that
tell
of
his
failure:
And
it
came
to
pass,
when
Samuel
was
old,
that
he
made
his
sons
judges
over
Israel.
Now
the
name
of
his
firstborn
was
Joel;
and
the
name
of
his
second,
Abiah:
they
were
judges
in
Beer–sheba.
And
his
sons
walked
not
in
his
ways,
but
turned
aside
after
lucre,
and
took
bribes,
and
perverted
judgment.
(1
Samuel
8:1–3)
What
a
failure
he
was
as a
father!
My
brother,
if
you
have
made
money
this
past
year,
if
you
have
attained
the
position
you
were
after,
may
I
suggest
this
as a
friend:
forget
it!
“Forgetting
those
things
which
are
behind.”
We
do
well
to
forget
our
successes.
SORROWS
May
I
mention
the
fourth
thing
briefly.
We
are
not
only
to
forget
our
stupidities,
our
sensitivities,
and
our
successes,
but
we
are
also
to
forget
our
sorrows.
Perhaps
this
past
year
the
death
angel
knocked
at
the
door
of
your
home—he
knocked
at
many.
It
may
be
that
tragedy
came
your
way
and
sorrow
fills
your
heart.
My
friend,
I do
not
mean
to
be
pessimistic,
but
if
sorrow
did
not
come,
it
will
come.
The
death
angel
is
no
respecter
of
persons.
He
knocks
at
the
door
of
the
palace
of a
pharaoh
and
the
hovel
of a
peasant.
He
pays
no
attention
to
the
status
of
the
individual.
He
knocks
at
all
doors.
He
will
knock
at
your
door.
If
tragedy
did
come
your
way
and
sorrow
did
fill
your
heart,
may
I
say
to
you
kindly:
forget
it.
“Oh,”
you
say,
“you’re
not
asking
me
to
forget
my
loved
one?”
No.
But
forget
your
sorrow.
I
receive
many
letters
that
ask,
“Why
did
God
let
this
happen
to
me?”
My
friend,
God
let
it
come
to
you
as a
child
of
God
for
a
definite
reason.
Will
you
listen
to
Him?
Blessed
be
God,
even
the
Father
of
our
Lord
Jesus
Christ,
the
Father
of
mercies,
and
the
God
of
all
comfort;
who
comforteth
us
in
all
our
tribulation,
that
we
may
be
able
to
comfort
them
which
are
in
any
trouble,
by
the
comfort
wherewith
we
ourselves
are
comforted
of
God.
(2
Corinthians
1:3,
4)
God
has
let
you,
child
of
God,
go
down
through
the
valley
of
the
shadow
of
death
in
order
that
He
might
comfort
you.
Neither
I
nor
anyone
else
can
comfort
you.
I
disagree
with
the
people
who
tell
me,
“You
said
something
that
comforted
my
heart.”
No,
my
friend,
if
your
heart
was
comforted,
it
was
God
who
did
it.
He
is
the
God
of
all
comfort.
He
alone
can
comfort
you.
And
He
comforts
you
so
that
you
in
turn
can
go
to
someone
else,
and
His
Word
can
bring
comfort
through
you.
King
David
had
a
little
son
born
to
him
and,
according
to
the
record
in 2
Samuel
12,
that
little
one
hung
in
the
balance
between
life
and
death.
David
went
in
before
God,
fasting.
He
was
down
on
his
face
before
God,
and
you
could
hear
him
weeping.
After
a
week
the
little
one
died,
and
the
servants
were
afraid
to
tell
David,
thinking
that
he
might
be
so
distraught
he
would
do
himself
bodily
harm.
David
saw
that
they
were
whispering
and
turned
and
asked,
“Is
the
child
dead?”
They
told
him,
“Yes.”
David
arose
and
washed
his
face,
changed
his
clothes,
and
went
to
the
house
of
the
Lord
and
worshiped,
then
went
home
and
had
a
good
dinner.
Even
the
servants
couldn’t
keep
quiet.
They
came
to
him
and
asked,
“How
is
it
that
when
the
little
one
was
still
alive
you
fasted
and
wept,
but
now
that
the
child
is
dead
you
are
no
longer
mourning?”
David
was
God’s
man,
and
in
concluding
his
reply
he
said,
“But
now
he
is
dead,
wherefore
should
I
fast?
Can
I
bring
him
back
again?
I
shall
go
to
him,
but
he
shall
not
return
to
me.”
In
other
words,
“I’ll
forget
the
things
that
are
behind,
and
I’ll
move
toward
the
things
that
are
ahead.”
Friend,
I
say
it
kindly,
forget
your
sorrows.
SINS
Not
only
are
we
to
forget
our
stupidities,
our
sensitivities,
our
successes,
and
our
sorrows,
but
we
are
to
forget
our
sins,
too.
What
do
you
do
with
your
sins?
The
Word
of
God
says
to
confess
them.
Confess
them
promptly
to
God,
and
then
forget
them,
my
friend,
forget
them.
I
sometimes
think
that
God
gets
tired
of
our
reminding
Him
of
our
past
sins.
Of
course,
we
are
to
correct
what
we
have
done
when
we
have
injured
some
person.
But
after
we
have
dealt
with
the
thing
and
confessed
it,
He
says
to
forget
it—“forgetting
those
things
which
are
behind.”
Confession
is
to
be
made
to
God
privately—not
publicly—and
when
we
have
done
that,
then
we
are
to
forget
the
sin.
Oh,
to
take
the
book
of
the
past,
tie
it
with
the
red
ribbon
of
forgiveness
(for
that
red
speaks
of
the
blood
of
Christ),
seal
it
with
love,
and
then
mail
it
to
an
address
which
David
gives
us:
“Shall
thy
wonders
be
known
in
the
dark?
and
thy
righteousness
in
the
land
of
forgetfulness?”
(Psalm
88:12).
I
don’t
know
the
location
of
the
“land
of
forgetfulness.”
I
don’t
know
whether
it
is
north,
east,
south,
or
west.
Wherever
it
is,
it
is
the
proper
place
to
send
the
failure
of
your
past—“forgetting
those
things
which
are
behind.”
On
the
other
hand,
perhaps
your
sins
are
not
forgiven,
or
perhaps
you
are
not
sure
they
are
forgiven.
May
I
ask
this
personal
question?
Would
you
like
to
wipe
out
the
past,
with
all
of
its
sins
and
all
of
its
stains?
Would
you
like
to
know,
as
far
as
your
past
is
concerned,
that
all
is
forgiven?
Well,
God
will
not
only
forgive
you
your
sins,
friend,
He
will
do
something
else:
He
will
forget
them.
God
says:
…
For
I
will
forgive
their
iniquity,
and
I
will
remember
their
sin
no
more.
(Jeremiah
31:34)
As
far
as
the
east
is
from
the
west,
so
far
hath
he
removed
our
transgressions
from
us.
(Psalm
103:12)
God
says
that
He
has
put
our
sins
behind
His
back,
and
He
won’t
turn
around.
He
will
forget
them.
In
closing,
let
me
tell
you
a
story
that
comes
out
of
my
native
state
of
Texas.
Years
ago
out
on
the
plains
of
South
Texas
a
ranch
house
caught
on
fire
one
night.
Quite
suddenly
it
went
up
in a
blaze.
There
were
a
father
and
mother
and
several
children
in
that
family.
All
died
in
the
fire
with
the
exception
of
one
little
girl
about
six
years
old.
She
came
crawling
out
of
that
burning
inferno,
horribly
burned
on
the
face.
Neighbors
took
her
in.
Doctors
were
called,
and
they
worked
with
her
and
nursed
her
back
to
health.
But
the
little
girl
did
not
have
a
living
relative,
so
they
sent
her
to
Dallas,
to
the
Buckner
Orphanage.
Dr.
Buckner
met
her
at
the
train.
There
she
was,
a
little
six–year–old
girl
all
alone,
her
eyes
red
with
crying
and
her
face
horribly
scarred.
He
went
up
to
her
and
asked,
“Are
you
Mary?”
She
said,
“Yes.
Are
you
Dr.
Buckner?
You’ll
have
to
be
my
Daddy
and
my
Mama
both.
I’ve
lost
mine.”
He
promised
he
would
do
his
best.
He
took
her
out
to
the
home,
and
she
got
acquainted
with
the
other
children.
As
you
know,
sometimes
children
that
age
can
be
rather
cruel,
even
brutal.
On
one
occasion
Dr.
Buckner
had
to
be
out
of
town,
and
when
he
returned
all
the
other
children
came
running,
and
he
put
his
arms
around
them
and
kissed
them.
Then
he
saw
little
Mary
standing
over
to
one
side.
She’d
been
weeping
again,
for
the
children
had
told
her
she
was
ugly.
They
had
told
her
how
horrible
she
really
looked.
So
Dr.
Buckner
went
over
to
little
Mary
and
said
to
her,
“Mary,
why
didn’t
you
come
and
kiss
Daddy
Buckner
like
the
rest?”
“Daddy
Buckner,
I
know
I’m
ugly.
I
know
I’m
awful–looking.
You
wouldn’t
possibly
want
to
kiss
me.
If
you’ll
just
say
that
you
love
me,
that’ll
be
enough.”
Do
you
know
what
Dr.
Buckner
with
that
great
heart
did?
He
took
her
up
into
his
arms,
and
he
kissed
those
little
scarred
cheeks.
He
said
to
her,
“Daddy
Buckner
loves
you
just
as
much
as
he
loves
any
of
these
others.
You’re
just
as
pretty
to
me
as
any
other.”
Oh,
my
friend,
I
was
that
burned
child.
Sin
is
what
had
scarred
me.
I
came
to
the
living
God
and
repented
with
bitter
tears.
He
forgave
me,
and
through
His
written
Word
He
said,
“I
see
you
in
Christ.
I
accept
you
in
the
Beloved.
You
are
lovely
to
Me.
You
are
My
son.
You
can
call
Me
Father.
And
someday
you
will
stand
before
My
throne
without
spot
or
blemish.”
Friend,
we
are
to
forget
those
things
which
are
behind,
and
we
are
to
look
to
Jesus
today.
Looking
unto
Jesus
the
author
and
finisher
of
our
faith;
who
for
the
joy
that
was
set
before
him
endured
the
cross,
despising
the
shame,
and
is
set
down
at
the
right
hand
of
the
throne
of
God.
(Hebrews
12:2)
McGee, J. Vernon: On Comfort : Words of Hope for the Hurting. electronic ed. Nashville : Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2000, c1994, S. 139
have the assurance of their salvation; “Brethren, these things ought not to be,” but they do exist.
God wants you to know that you are His child through faith in Jesus Christ:
But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name: which were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God. (John 1:12, 13)
It is not honoring to Him for you to have misgivings, doubts, and a lack of assurance. “Maybe” and “perhaps” should not be in the vocabulary of a born–again Christian when the matter of salvation is the subject. It is not a “hope so” but a “know so” salvation which God offers. It is always described as everlasting or eternal life; it is not temporary or conditional. Listen to God and be assured:
He that hath the Son hath life; and he that hath not the Son of God hath not life. These things have I written unto you that believe on the name of the Son of God; that ye may know that ye have eternal life, and that ye may believe on the name of the Son of God. (1 John 5:12–13)
Let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience, and our bodies washed with pure water. (Hebrews 10:22)
This is not the language of uncertainty. There is a remarkable passage in this connection expressed in Isaiah 32:17:
And the work of righteousness shall be peace; and the effect of righteousness quietness and assurance for ever.
The righteousness which is mentioned here is not man’s, but it is the righteousness of God revealed in the gospel. This is the righteousness of Christ which is made over to us and one which gives us a standing before God. It cannot be improved upon because it is perfect, and it cannot be disturbed because it is given to the lost sinner who trusts in Jesus.
God wants all who trust the work of Christ to come to a place in experience where each can say with confidence, boldness, and much assurance, but with true humility:
… I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day. (2 Timothy 1:12)
To fall short of this goal is to miss the best that He has for us. It reveals a defect in our understanding and in our appreciation of His “so great salvation.”
A very simple and homely illustration will show that God wants us to enjoy and to be assured of our salvation. Traveling by air is something which I do only in an emergency. Candidly, I have never enjoyed an airplane trip. I lack assurance and confidence in this method of travel. Pictures of train wrecks and statistics of highway fatalities do not increase my relish for air travel. A trip from Los Angeles, California, to Phoenix, Arizona, several years ago to speak at a Youth for Christ meeting and then to hurry back to my Sunday morning service did not increase my love for this mode of travel.
On the way over and on the way back, the trip to me was hazardous. It was a summer Saturday morning on the way over. The intense heat of the desert was threading its way into the cool fog of Southern California between the San Jacinto and San Gorgonio mountains. The plane hit rough air and began to bounce around. Then the pilot found that the higher he went the rougher it got; he leveled off and went through the pass at what looked to be about 10,000 feet. At times the plane would drop, and it seemed to me that it would never stop. I grabbed the seat in front of me and held on for dear life. Of course, the seat in front of me was dropping just as fast as the one in which I was sitting! A fellow traveler aboard, who had been several times around the world by air, stated that this was the roughest trip he had ever experienced. I concurred with him thoroughly, for it surely was my roughest trip—and, as I felt then, my last trip by air. Across the aisle from me sat a young man who was a former pilot. He was asleep by the time the plane took to the air. He was merely annoyed at all the disturbance and turned over and went back to sleep. He had flown many missions over Germany during World War II. When we landed and commented on the rough trip, he simply smiled and confessed that he had enjoyed it all. Frankly, I did not enjoy one minute of it.
Now, I was as safe as this young man. Whatever security the plane offered was mine as well as his. We both had faith enough to enter the plane, but he had the faith, understanding, and experience to enjoy the trip. He had assurance, but I did not. What could have been a pleasant experience for me was a sad ordeal!
My friend, God wants you to enjoy your salvation. His “plane” cannot fall, and you do not have to hold onto the seat in front of you. He holds you!
My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me: and I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand. My Father, which gave them me, is greater than all; and no man is able to pluck them out of my Father’s hand. (John 10:27–29)
He never lets go. Now sit back, relax, and enjoy your salvation. Someone has said, “All the way to heaven is heaven.”
WHY NO ASSURANCE?
There are many reasons why believers do not have the assurance of their salvation. Let us look at some of the principal ones:
Fear. Some are frightened souls who received the gospel in trembling and in fear. The gospel was presented partially, and they were not told that they could have any assurance. There is always a serious doubt whether folk like this have ever been saved. The instability and inconsistency of the lives of many who live in the atmosphere of uncertainty do not reveal a thoroughgoing conversion. It is interesting to note what Paul wrote to the Thessalonians concerning the preaching of the gospel in their city:
For our gospel came not unto you in word only, but also in power, and in the Holy Ghost, and in much assurance; as ye know what manner of men we were among you for your sake. (1 Thessalonians 1:5)
The gospel that produces changed lives comes in much assurance. Many who lack assurance are sincere, but they have actually never been born again.
While I was pastor in Pasadena, California, an attractive young couple who had come to us out of a liberal church came to me one Wednesday evening after the service and exclaimed with great joy, “We have received the assurance of our salvation tonight!” The next Wednesday evening they came down smiling after the service and said, “Correction, please, we did not get the assurance of our salvation last week; we got saved.”
They were thrilled as they related their experience in going home the week before and getting down on their knees and actually receiving Christ as Savior; this experience gave them assurance. This is the manner in which God intends the gospel to come to men and women—“in much assurance.”
Emotionalism. Some depend upon an emotional experience, and they do not have the knowledge of their salvation. The gospel has not been given to them accurately, and they merely rest upon an emotional upheaval. If the experience was significant, then they fall back upon it to fortify their faith. When the emotional experience wears thin and there is not much to rest upon, then doubts and uncertainty creep in to make the heart disturbed. Many of these do not know the assurance that there is in the gospel:
That their hearts might be comforted, being knit together in love, and unto all riches of the full assurance of understanding, to the acknowledgement of the mystery of God, and of the Father, and of Christ. (Colossians 2:2)
Again, permit me to resort to a personal experience to clarify this point. One Easter Sunday several years ago, two couples came forward at the invitation. One couple was overcome with emotion; the other couple was stoical. The elders who dealt with them could not get a clear statement from the emotional couple because they were weeping so. The contrast was so great that some even doubted the genuineness of the couple who shed no tears. However, time proved that emotion was no indication of a real experience of conversion, for the emotional couple were pulled out of one “ism” shortly after this incident and are at present in a second “ism.” Their instability indicates that they will bounce out of this second “ism,” but the chances are they will soon bounce into a third one. The couple who seemed to have had no experience at all have grown in grace and in the knowledge of Christ. It is a joy to see them take their regular places in the services of the church. This couple had the “full assurance of understanding” from the very beginning.
Sin. Sin which is not confessed in the life of a believer is the greatest single factor in robbing him of the assurance of salvation. God wants us to have the full assurance of salvation. God wants us to have the full assurance of faith, and this comes experientially through fellowship with God. Sin breaks our fellowship, and this in time sets up a chain reaction that breaks our assurance.
If we say that we have fellowship with him, and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth. (1 John 1:6)
We can bluff our way through before others by putting up a front that all is well. But underneath doubts begin to gnaw like little foxes at the fringe of our faith, and we actually feel that we are not really God’s children. We dread the light because it makes us more conscious of our doubts. God is still our Father nonetheless, and a conviction of sin is pretty good evidence. We have lost our fellowship—not our salvation.
The Christian should come to the light which is the Word of God. It reveals our sin but it likewise shows us the remedy. The blood of Christ is still potent, and it is the basis of forgiveness for the sins of a child of God.
But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin. (1 John 1:7)
The believer who walks in the light and who discovers sin in his life knows that the blood of Christ keeps on cleansing him from sin; consequently, he goes in confession to Him:
If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. (1 John 1:9)
Immediately fellowship is restored for the sinning saint. The family fellowship is resumed and confidence and assurance are restored. You see, the child of God is always disturbed by sin in his life as he knows it breaks fellowship with God. In fact, the line of demarcation is drawn at this point between God’s children and the devil’s offspring:
In this the children of God are manifest, and the children of the devil: whosoever doeth [practices] not righteousness is not of God, neither he that loveth not his brother. (1 John 3:10)
Deliberate and continual sinning without remorse or without repentance is a clear indication that one has not come into the place of sonship. The child of God is distressed, disturbed, and distraught by the presence of sin in his life. He hates the sin in his life and longs to be delivered from it. The presence of sin robs him of his assurance. The legitimate child of God can never compromise with the sin in his life. The child of God longs to obey God and to please Him:
And hereby we do know that we know him, if we keep his commandments. (1 John 2:3)
This desire to obey God gives him an assurance that he is a son of God. He wants to know the will of God, and therefore he wants to know the Word of God. He goes then where he can hear the Word of God:
I rejoice at thy word, as one that findeth great spoil. (Psalm 119:162)
I hate vain thoughts: but thy law do I love. (Psalm 119:113)
O how love I thy law! it is my meditation all the day. (Psalm 119:97)
He finds that he not only has an appetite for the Word of God, but he also begins to understand it and thereby growth takes place:
But he that is spiritual judgeth [understands] all things, yet he himself is judged [understood] of no man. (1 Corinthians 2:15)
HOW CAN I KNOW?
There are other tests which indicate to a trembling but trusting heart that he or she is a child of God. God urges us to make the tests so that we may have assurance:
Examine yourselves, whether ye be in the faith; prove your own selves. Know ye not your own selves, how that Jesus Christ is in you, except ye be reprobates? (2 Corinthians 13:5)
Here are some of the tests:
A reality in prayer is an evidence that we are children of God. There is a very remarkable statement in this connection made in 1 John 3:19–22:
And hereby we know that we are of the truth, and shall assure our hearts before him.
As the child of God approaches the Father, a holy boldness confirms the heart. This is not presumption on the part of the child—it is the assurance that a child has in approaching a father. However, sin or some other impediment may make us hesitant and reluctant to approach the Father. God does not hear us because of our reluctance but because of Christ, and He hears us regardless of our condition:
For if our heart condemn us, God is greater than our heart, and knoweth all things.
Nevertheless, when our hearts are rightly related to Him, then there is a confidence given to us:
Beloved, if our heart condemn us not, then have we confidence toward God.
Furthermore, when we are in His will, there are added tokens that we are His children:
And whatsoever we ask, we receive of him, because we keep his commandments, and do those things that are pleasing in his sight.
Answered prayer is an argument that we are legitimate children of God. The prayer–life of the believer is vital in assuring the soul of salvation.
A love for the brethren gives evidence that we are children of God. One of the most convicting and confirming facts which seals assurance to the heart is love of the brethren. Scripture is positive at this point:
We know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren. He that loveth not his brother abideth in death. (1 John 3:14)
Animosity and hatred in the heart will rob the child of God of assurance. Malice toward another Christian produces bitterness of soul and is therefore not a fertile soil to cultivate assurance. Malice is condensed anger. Lack of love for another believer probably robs more Christians of real enjoyment and satisfaction in the Christian life than does any other single factor. It not only blights the soul of the Christian, but it also destroys any public testimony:
By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another. (John 13:35)
To love other believers is not elective:
These things I command you, that ye love one another. (John 15:17)
Do not let a little root of bitterness rob you of assurance. Make things right with other believers.
Not only will we who are believers love those within the Christian fellowship, but we will also have a desire for those outside the fold to come to a saving knowledge of Christ. A sterile and frigid Christian is not likely to experience the sweetness and joy of full assurance, but a vital Christian, who knows something of the Savior’s compassion, will find the joy of belonging and an abiding experience.
A consciousness that we are children of God comes to the soul, and it is another evidence that we are the sons of God. This is the gracious work of the Spirit of God and not the product of psychological presumption.
Hereby know we that we dwell in him, and he in us, because he hath given us of his Spirit. (1 John 4:13)
This does not mean that we are conscious of the presence of the Holy Spirit, but it does mean that we are conscious of the work of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit does not speak of Himself, but He speaks of Christ:
Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will guide you into all truth: for he shall not speak of himself; but whatsoever he shall hear, that shall he speak: and he will show you things to come. (John 16:13)
Part of the work of the Holy Spirit is to make us conscious that we are the children of God.
The Spirit itself [Himself] beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God. (Romans 8:16)
There is a counterfeit humility which is going the rounds today and it sounds very pious, but it does not have the ring of the genuine. Some say that we are to grovel in the dust and that we are to act like worms—this is the modern way of putting on sackcloth and ashes. It is true that we are sinners; there is no good within us, no good comes out of us, and we have nothing in which to glory save the cross of Christ. Nevertheless, the Holy Spirit does not bear witness with our spirit that we are the “worms” of God. No, He encourages us when we are in times of weakness and trembling, and in spite of all our failure He assures us that we are children of God.
And a remarkable thing is stated in the preceding verse:
For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear, but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. (Romans 8:15)
The word Abba is an untranslated Aramaic word. The translators of the first English Bibles, who had great reverence for the Word of God, who believed it was indeed the Word of God, would not translate it. Abba is a very personal word that could be translated “My Daddy.” We don’t use this word in reference to God because of the danger of becoming overly familiar with Him. But the Spirit affirms it and causes us to realize that God is our very own Father through regeneration and by adoption.
While I was praying one morning shortly before Christmas, my little seven–year–old daughter tiptoed into the room and placed a letter before me. Since I was getting nowhere in my prayer, I paused to read the contents of the letter which she had scribbled in her childish hand.
Before Christmas, a father always comes into his proper position in the home and is treated with due respect. Neverthless, the letter caused me to drop to my knees and to be conscious anew and afresh that God was my Father. I cried out in joy, “You are my Father, and I love you. You have been gracious to me, and I know You always will.” The veil was removed from my eyes, and my soul was flooded with a fresh consciousness that I was a son of God. This was the gracious work of the Spirit of God.
There is an experience of salvation for the child of God that he does not have to seek. It will come, for it is impossible for the Holy Spirit to regenerate a sinner and for Christ to dwell in the heart and there not be a corresponding experience.
Dr. George Truett told a story out of his long and fruitful ministry at the First Baptist Church in Dallas, Texas. One day he had the sad office of conducting the funeral of a young wife and mother from his congregation. After the service, friends gathered around the young husband and the little girl who were left. The friends urged the father to go with them to their homes for a few days. He refused with the statement that he would have to face the reality of life without his wife, and he would begin at once. He took the little girl back to the lonely house where everything in it reminded him of his wife. The little girl, sensing that something was wrong but not old enough to appreciate the situation, kept calling for her mother. The child did not make it any easier by constantly reminding the father that he was not feeding her or putting her to bed as her mother was accustomed to do. When the father had finally tucked the little one in bed and he was in bed thinking the little girl was asleep, he cried aloud in his anguish of soul, “O God, it is dark down here.”
The child was not asleep and began to cry and to say, “Daddy, it is dark over here, too. Take me in bed with you.” The father took the little one in bed with him and attempted to soothe her sobbing. Then she reached over in the darkness and felt the face of her father. “Daddy,” she said, “I can go to sleep if your face is toward me.” Being assured that his face was toward her, she soon dropped off into peaceful slumber.
The anxious father thought over this incident and the simple faith of the child in him as a father. Then he cried out again, “O God, it is dark down here, but I can bear it if I know Your face is toward me.” Soon he too was sound asleep. The Holy Spirit in a time of darkness and emergency confirms to the sad spirit of the child of God that he is a son of God and that the Heavenly Father does not have His face averted from His own.
Perhaps these words have not been convincing to many anxious souls because they cannot establish with any degree of certainty a moment in time when they had a transforming experience with God. But there does not have to be a date for a “second birthday.” Multitudes are kept in uncertainty because they hear others testify to a day, a moment, and a place when they passed from death to life. If you have had such an experience, it certainly must be gratifying. But many others have not, yet they also are born–again believers.
If I may be permitted a final personal reference, this is my experience. I have never been able to put my finger on the moment that I was converted. As a boy, I went to an altar under a brush arbor, but no one thought to speak to me about my soul or to explain the way of salvation. The devil formerly used this to disturb my mind when I heard someone testify to a transforming experience. It seemed that he would lean over my shoulder and whisper, “How do you know that you have accepted Christ?”
Dr. Lewis Sperry Chafer gave me the solution to this problem in a class lecture when I was in seminary, and the devil does not disturb me on this anymore. Now I say to him, “Perhaps, you are right. I may never have accepted Christ in the past. But you are witness that here and now I accept Him with all my heart. Now I am a child of God.” If this has been your difficulty, then I beseech you to accept Christ this very moment—assure your heart and have the peace of God.
Do not look for an experience! Do not probe your feelings! Do not use psychoanalysis! Believe God! Take Him at His Word! Trust His faithfulness! “Let God be true and every man a liar.” Christ says in John 6:37, “… Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out.” Will you come?
He that hath the Son hath life; and he that hath not the Son of God hath not life. (1 John 5:12)
McGee, J. Vernon: On Comfort : Words of Hope for the Hurting. electronic ed. Nashville : Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2000, c1994, S. 161
HEAVEN—WHERE IS IT?
Now for this message we are going to restrict ourselves to one of these suggestive subjects—that is, it will not be adequate nor will it be all–comprehensive, only suggestive.
We are told here, as we are told elsewhere in the Word of God, that there is a heaven out in space. This is a revelation found in the New Testament.
Heaven is not the hope of the Old Testament. As far as I can tell from the Old Testament, God never told anyone that He was going to remove them from this earth to a place out yonder that we call heaven. He did say that our earth would become the Kingdom of Heaven, and I understand this to be the full and adequate meaning of that expression.
“The Kingdom of Heaven” is a progressive term, I grant that, but its final fruition will be the establishment of God’s kingdom on this earth, and that means this earth will become heaven or a portion of God’s heaven. Now that was the hope of the Old Testament, but it’s not the hope of the New Testament.
The first mention of God taking a group of people from this earth out into space is when our Lord introduced the subject in the Upper Room. This One who had been the carpenter of Nazareth down here, said to His own,
… I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also. (John 14:2, 3)
And Paul, banking on that statement, wrote that to be absent from the body is to be at home with the Lord.
Now what about this place? Paul confirmed its existence, but the only description I can find of it is in the twenty–first chapter of the Book of Revelation. Therefore, we will have to go there to get the description of this wonderful place where we are to be at home.
We should note that our knowledge of it brings courage and comfort to the heart, and I am sure that one of the reasons so many of God’s people have become discouraged along life’s pathway is because they’ve lost sight of the place where they are going. If you’ve read John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress (which, by the way, was Bunyan’s masterful expression of his own experience) you will find that this man Christian, though he went down into the Slough of Despond or went down into Doubting Prison, always could come out and face the future and move upward on the pilgrim pathway because, as he says, “I am on the way to the Celestial City.”
Many of God’s children are so wrapped up in this world today, like a kitty in a ball of yarn, that they have lost sight of the fact that we are pilgrims and strangers down here. They do not realize that to look forward to the Celestial City brings courage and comfort to the heart in our day.
Now we want to turn to chapter 21 of the Book of Revelation. And as we do, we want to see the description that is given here. We find that there are two features we want to develop at this time:
First is the topography of heaven. And second is the typography of heaven. These are the two themes: the topography of heaven and the typography of heaven.
Now when we speak of the topography of heaven, we mean that it is a place, a material place, if you please. I do not know why the notion has arisen that the difference between that which is spiritual and that which is carnal is that the carnal is material, something which you can see, and that the spiritual is something you can’t see and has no physical qualities whatsoever. That is not true. Actually, some of the most carnal things in this world are things you can’t see. Hate and covetousness are works of the flesh, but they are just as much in the unseen realm as love and unselfishness, which are the fruit of the Spirit.
On the other hand, a thing does not have to be out yonder in space with no tangible substance in order to be spiritual, my beloved. Heaven is a good example of this because it is a place with three dimensions: it has height, it has width, it has depth—all of these things. Yet it is in the realm of the spirit.
Notice the description of heaven that is given. And may I say again—I continually repeat it—that the interpretations I am giving you are only suggestions. Yet I trust if you have become discouraged, or perhaps you have not yet begun the pilgrim pathway to this city, that you will be encouraged by what is given here.
And I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea. (Revelation 21:1)
This tells us that there will come into existence a new heaven and a new earth. God is trading in this model on a new one, one that will be absolutely, of course, free of sin. And the only change that is called to our attention is the fact that there will be no sea. What a great change that will be!
Now we in Los Angeles are thankful for the ocean. If you do not see why, then take a trip 200 miles to the east or go to Chicago, and you’ll see why the ocean is such a valuable asset here on the West Coast.
But can you conceive of this earth without any ocean, that which occupies three–fourths of the globe’s surface? If now we had all that space, what a tremendous population could be put here—and will be put here in the eternal ages. Not only that, just think of the parking space we’re going to have when we get rid of the ocean! “No more sea” is the one radical change we are told about. Then God moves on and tells about something else that will be new.
Up to this point heaven has been mentioned many times in Scripture, but never described. Our Lord said He was going to prepare a place for us in it; Paul wrote about being homesick for it and wanting to go there; and now it comes into view for the first time. I think it’s already in existence, but I don’t think we’re going to see it until eternity begins; that is, until we have the new heaven and a new earth.
Now will you notice what he says,
And I John saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. (Revelation 21:2)
It is a holy city and it’s holy because there is no sin there at all. Those who are there are clothed in the righteousness of Christ. They are in Him; they’re His bride, and that’s the reason it’s a holy city. It is the New Jerusalem, because it’s in contrast to an earthly Jerusalem.
And then the loveliest thing of all is said concerning it: this city is as a bride adorned for her husband. Now I can’t think of any figure of speech that’s more adequate than that, “as a bride adorned for her husband.”
It has been my privilege in my ministry to have about 200 couples stand before me to be married. And I must confess that I still enjoy standing down in front with the bridegroom. I want to say he is generally not much to look at, but I stand with him and both of us together are probably not much to look at.
But as we stand there, I always look in anticipation—not as he does of course—but I look in anticipation to see the bride. And I want to say as I’ve seen them come down the aisle, and I’m prepared to make this statement and stand by it, I have never yet seen an ugly bride. Every one that I have seen has been beautiful and some of them absolutely ravishing, but they are all beautiful.
Now you say, “The trouble with you, Preacher, is that you’re getting in your dotage and you’re becoming just a little sentimental.” And in case you think I’m becoming sentimental, I want to say that I have seen these girls, many of them, before they got married. In fact, I’ve been at the rehearsal when they had these curlers on. And I want to tell you that beauty was not the way to speak of them. And then I want to say I’ve seen them after they’ve been married. And you can’t always say they’re beautiful. But for some reason, God permits every girl to be beautiful on her wedding day. Yes, He does. I’ve never seen it fail.
Now, my beloved, I think this is the loveliest thing that can be said about the New Jerusalem. This city is a thing of beauty; it is as a bride adorned for her husband. After all, the church is the bride of Christ and is coming with the Bridegroom. This is certainly an adequate picture of it.
TOPOGRAPHY
Now I want you to look at the topography of this city, and it’s given to us here. It comes down, we’re told, from God out of heaven. It comes down into space, but we are not told it comes to the earth. There are some very fine expositors today who take the position that it comes to this earth. I personally believe that it stays in space. And we’re told,
And the city lieth foursquare, and the length is as large as the breadth: and he measured the city with the reed, twelve thousand furlongs. The length and the breadth and the height of it are equal. (Revelation 21:16)
Two facts are evident from this passage: it comes down out of heaven, and it is not stated that it comes to the earth. The passage of Scripture leaves the city hanging in mid air. That is the dilemma many expositors seek to avoid, but why not leave the city in mid air? Is there anything incongruous about a civilization in space?
When I first wrote this theory and it appeared in print, it was really out of keeping with our limited knowledge of space during those years. However, today a rendezvous in space is not something strange at all.
We are told that this city lies foursquare, that it is approximately 1500 miles on each side. There are expositors today who think the city is shaped as a cube. There are others who think of it shaped as a pyramid. Candidly, I would say that either one of these would be rather awkward out in space. I don’t mean to say it would be impossible, but I’ve always felt that there might be some other explanation.
Now what I am going to say is only a theory—please keep that in mind.
The measurements of the city have given rise to all sorts of conceptions as to the size and shape of the city. First of all, notice the size of the city: twelve thousand furlongs are given as the measurement of each side and of its height. It is 12,000 stadia in the text, which means about 1500 miles.
Now consider with me the shape of the city. “The city lieth foursquare” is the simple declaration of Scripture. That would seem to indicate that the city is a cube with 1500 miles on a side—that is, 1500 miles long, 1500 miles wide, and 1500 miles high. Students of Scripture interpret these measurements in various geometric figures, for example a cube or pyramid, etc. However it is difficult to conceive of either a cube or a pyramid projected out in space. We are accustomed to think of a sphere hanging in space because that is the general shape of heavenly bodies. Yet it is definitely stated that the city is foursquare.
The difficulty resolves when we think of the city as a cube within a crystal–clear sphere. Several times attention is called to the fact that the city is like a crystal–clear stone or crystal–clear gold. This emphasis leads us to believe that the city is seen through the crystal. We live on the outside of the planet called earth, but the bride will dwell within the planet called the New Jerusalem. The glory of light streaming through this crystal–clear prism will break up into a polychromed rainbow of breathtaking beauty. The sphere will have the circumference of 8168 miles. The diameter of the moon is about 2160 miles, and that of the New Jerusalem sphere is about 2600 miles; thus the New Jerusalem will be about the size of the moon. And it will be a sphere, as are the other heavenly bodies.
Some folk are interested in going to the moon. Well, I’m going to wait until this one appears in space because this will be my home someday. And I’m very much interested in it since I intend to spend eternity there.
Now I believe this is the reason we’re given a description of the street of gold, and it says it’s clear gold. Man has perfected through processes of metallurgy, different colors of gold—yellow, green, white gold; but we have yet to see transparent gold. However, the gold of the New Jerusalem is like clear glass. The city is translucent, but the material is gold in contrast to the crystal–clear stone that surrounds the city. Why should it be clear and what difference does it make about the “asphalt” we’ll walk on? It’s clear because light is coming from the inside out.
I believe that you and I live in a universe that is actually dark. It has “light holders” in it, but space out there is dark and cold. And one day God will push a button, as it were, and just like you turn off the lights in your home, God will push a button and every sun will go out of existence. He says here,
And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it: for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof. (Revelation 21:23)
Our Lord will be in this city, and His light will shine through that twelve–stone foundation. What a thing of beauty! Varied hues and tints form a galaxy of rainbow colors. Look at those twelve stones, each one a different color:
1. Jasper (iaspis), the diamond, crystal–clear, a reflector of light and color.
2. Sapphire (sappheiros), blue, as “the body of heaven in its clearness” (Exodus 24:10).
3. Chalcedony (chalkēdōn), blue or gray agate stone (we don’t know the exact color of all of these precious stones).
4. Emerald (smaragdos), green.
5. Sardonyx (sardonux), red and white stone.
6. Sardius (sardios), fiery red.
7. Chrysolite (chrusolithos), golden yellow.
8. Beryl (bērullos), sea green.
9. Topaz (topazion), greenish–yellow.
10. Chrysoprasus (chrusoprasos), gold–green.
11. Jacinth (huakinthoás), color of a hyacinth.
12. Amethyst (amethustos), purple.
The New Jerusalem is a city of light and a city of color. “God is light” and He is there. The light shining from within through the prism of precious stones would give every color and shade of color in the rainbow. Our universe that’s rather drab and cold and dark today will really be flooded with light. It will be the most thrilling sight in the world to see Him turn out all the lights and then this one will go on in the new heaven and the new earth!
The New Jerusalem will be a holy place:
And the nations of them which are saved shall walk in the light of it: and the kings of the earth do bring their glory and honour into it. And the gates of it shall not be shut at all by day: for there shall be no night there. And they shall bring the glory and honour of the nations into it. And there shall in no wise enter into it any thing that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie: but they which are written in the Lamb’s book of life. (Revelation 21:24–27)
The nations of the earth will make a trip up here—they’ll make a trip in space. The New Jerusalem is the holy of holies of the universe just as there was a holy of holies in the temple. The high priest didn’t stay there—he performed his service, then he left.
And the people of the earth will come up here to worship, bringing their glory and honor. They’re not going to stay because it is not their home. This is the home of the church, and this is where all those who are in Christ will be at home with the Lord.
A place like this, may I say, is one of the most thrilling places to look at, but actually, that is not the chief function of the city.
TYPOGRAPHY
There is something else. Not only do we try to apprehend the topography of heaven, but notice the typography of heaven. And here our Lord uses terms of accommodation. In other words, it’s difficult for you and me to get our thinking adjusted to the way heaven really will be. Therefore, He uses terminology that is typical, and here are examples of it. These things that He mentions are beyond our experience. You will notice several of them? Again, we will not attempt to be exhaustive, but simply make some suggestions to stimulate your thinking.
NO TEARS
And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away. (Revelation 21:4)
Now that is something that you and I have never seen—a world or a city or a community or a home or a person who has never shed a tear.
Ours is a world that’s filled with tears. A book on anthropology that was quoted recently in the newspaper has this statement which interests me a great deal. Of course, the author uses the terminology of the anthropologist:
Man is the only animal born into this world that cannot take care of himself. He cannot protect himself, he cannot sustain himself. The only thing he can do when he comes into this world is cry.
That’s all we do on our own, and that’s the first thing we do. We make our entrance into this world crying, and we make it loud and long, for you and I are in a world filled with tears.
Now tears are the badge of heartbreak, homebreak, and disappointment. We are in that kind of world today. Won’t it be wonderful to be in a city—regardless of its shape—where there will be no more tears? The apostle Paul wrote,
For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain … For I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ; which is far better. (Philippians 1:21, 23)
To be at home with the Lord means no more tears, never again a tear. As a pastor, I’ve seen too many of them. We never miss a week without seeing tears. I saw them this week again—heartbreak! Oh, my beloved, this world, as an agnostic said, is a veil of tears. From his viewpoint, that’s exactly what it is, a veil of tears. And I tell you, unless you are a pilgrim and stranger down here and headed for the Celestial City where our Lord is going to wipe away all tears, you are apt to become very discouraged.
NO DEATH
Now will you notice a second thing which is beyond our experience: “And there shall be no more death.” Death is something that is universal in this world today—“in Adam all die.” There’s not a city today or any community that does not have a cemetery. One of the many, multitudinous problems of Southern California is finding a place to bury people. That’s a real problem today. It will be wonderful to be in a city in which that’s no problem at all because there will be no one dying. There will be no more death. Aren’t you tired of going to the cemetery? I think every pastor will be glad not to have to make another trip out there. That would be wonderful. The undertaker is going to be out of business, the cemetery will be out of business. And when I mentioned this some time ago, a little boy sitting next to his father in the congregation said, “Dad, not only will the undertaker be out of business, not only will the cemetery be out of business, but you’re going to be out of business.” His father is an insurance man. He will be out of business also. My beloved, may I say to you, it will be wonderful to be in a place where there is “no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away” (Revelation 21:4).
ALL THINGS NEW
Now we come to that which to me is the high point of the New Jerusalem where we’ll be at home with the Lord.
And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new. And he said unto me, Write: for these words are true and faithful. (Revelation 21:5)
And the Lord Jesus said in effect, “Let Me sign My Name to this because this is so important: Behold, I make all things new.”
Does that mean anything to you today? Well, it is a great encouragement to me. I’d like to make a confession to you—I make it readily and gladly—I have never attained my goal in life. I have never been the man that I have wanted to be. I have never been the husband I’ve wanted to be, nor have I been the father I’ve wanted to be. And may I say that I have never been the preacher I’ve wanted to be. I have never yet preached the sermon that I’d like to preach. I have found in my life that there have been hindrances, there have been frustrations, there have been disappointments. I’ve felt many times that things have been unfair and unjust. Have you felt that way? My Lord says, “Behold, I make all things new.”
May I be personal? The Lord Jesus will say something like this: “Vernon McGee, you didn’t run the race like you wanted to run it. You didn’t cross the tapeline as you wanted to cross it. You didn’t live as you wanted to live. But we are going to start all over again—behold, I make all things new.”
I don’t know about you, but I want to do it all over again. Not down here, oh my, no—I don’t want to go back over my life. I would never want to do that. But what a glorious prospect to start over again! The apostle Paul wrote, “To be absent from the body is to be at home with the Lord.” The New Jerusalem is the place our Lord Jesus had reference to when He said,
… I go to prepare a place for you. And If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself…. (John 14:2, 3)
AT HOME WITH THE LORD—HOW?
Let’s come back where we began this message, “At home with the Lord.” How are we going to get there? If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. Old things are passed away, and all things have become new.
I’m very frank to tell you that I’m not fit for heaven in this old nature. I don’t know why so many of the saints today feel that they’re going to adorn heaven when they get there and that they’re going to make a tremendous contribution to it. My friend, you and I have no contribution to make to heaven. We have an old nature that is in rebellion against God. We’d like to set up a little kingdom apart from God. We have to be made fit for heaven. And how can we be made fit for heaven?
“If any man be in Christ, he is a new creation: old things….” What does it mean by old things? A few little habits? No, a new relationship. When we are in Christ, we are no longer joined to the old Adam, but now through faith in Christ we are joined to the resurrected, glorified Savior, clothed in His righteousness and made accepted in the Beloved. All of this because of one thing—our faith in Jesus Christ! We walk by faith and not by sight.
Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us: we pray you in Christ’s stead, be ye reconciled to God. (2 Corinthians 5:20)
And as long as I’m down here, He is saying to me, “McGee, you’re an ambassador for Christ.” And as long as there are ambassadors in this world, it means that the government and the ruler they represent are still at peace with the world. One of these days He’s calling His ambassadors home and when He does, the door will be shut and the entrance blocked to this city. But until then “we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us: we pray you in Christ’s stead [that is, when the Lord Jesus left, He asked us to implore you], be ye reconciled to God.”
The Lord Jesus said,
I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me. (John 14:6)
He is the way to that city, “I am the way, the truth and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.” He made a dead–end street out of all of the other so–called ways to God, and He says, “You can be reconciled because I am reconciled to you.” When Christ died on the cross. He did all that was necessary to save you. He said, “It is finished.” He turned in His report to the Father and said, “I have finished the work which You have given Me to do” (see John 17:4). My friend, you don’t have to do anything to add to your salvation. He asks you only to be reconciled to God.
Will you accept it? Will you agree with God that this is the way? Will you start a pilgrim pathway to this Celestial City?
McGee, J. Vernon: On Comfort : Words of Hope for the Hurting. electronic ed. Nashville : Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2000, c1994, S. 189
by Dr. J. Vernon McGee (Author) |
Words of Hope for the Hurting |
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