One of the great dangers of life is
that of losing sight of God's great design in the details
by which that design is worked out, and it has been well
said that we entirely lose the value of any experience if
we isolate it. That is, if you take your sorrow and
regard it apart from the great designing love of God, if
you take your losses, your temporary setbacks, your
momentary depressions, and dwell upon these things as if
they were the only experiences of God's providence, and
as if they were not related to the great central control
of His love - you will entirely miss their value. It is
that we may be saved from such peril that we are
meditating together thus on some of God's unlikely but
never unkindly ministries.
With this brief recapitulation let me ask you to turn to
the word which is the occasion of our thought this
morning in regard to the Divine ministry of delay by
which God oftentimes tests His people. I will ask you to
turn to the words of Jeremiah the prophet, in the book of
Lamentations, in the third chapter, at the twenty-fourth
verse: "The Lord is my portion, saith my soul;
therefore will I hope in him. The Lord is good unto them
that wait for him, to the soul that seeketh him. It is
good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the
salvation of the Lord." It is especially on
those last words that I want our meditation to be based: "It
is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for
the salvation of the Lord."
Let us frankly admit at the outset that one of the great
difficulties of life with many of us is concerned with
the fact that God sometimes seems to delay His answers to
our prayers. The most perplexing problem of many a
Christian life is just this: that God apparently does not
answer, and apparently does not even heed much of our
crying. By His grace our faith in Him has not been
finally disturbed. By His grace this conflict has been
carried on courageously in secret. Outside our own heart
no one even suspects that there is such a conflict. But
you know that there is, and I know that there is, and
sometimes the only word that rises from our hearts when
we come into God's presence is almost the last word which
came from the Saviour's lips: "My God, why?"
This is not the first question of the Christian life.
Faith's first question is usually "How?" There
is a stage in Christian experience when we are constantly
saying "How?" - "How can a man be born
when he is old?" "How can these things
be?" "How can this Man give us His flesh to
eat?" "How are the dead raised up, and with
what body do they come?" These are some of the first
questions of the Christian life. But as we go on with
God, as life deepens, as its necessities become heavier,
its sorrows more acute, and our perceptions more alert
also, the question which rises from the heart of many a
disturbed and distressed believer is: "My God,"
not "how?" but "WHY?" I have already
suggested that what many of us are seeking at this time
is not comfort, nor sympathy, nor even the lightening of
our loads. We are seeking some explanation, some
interpretation from God Himself as to what He is doing in
these our lives. Some of us are distressed almost to the
point of desertion - desertion of our own allegiance, and
desertion of His colours, because He seems to delay,
indeed almost to deny the things we ask Him.
Yet, I would remind you that there is nothing which the
Word of God so amply encourages men to do as to pray.
There are promises attached to prayer which do not attach
to any other condition. There are riches which are
covenanted to men as the result of prayer and waiting
upon God, which they can obtain in no other way. And it
is just because the promises with regard to prayer are so
great, so high, so wide, that these delays of God perplex
us, and we cry out this morning, "My God, why?"
There are times in life when nothing but sheer belief in
God's goodness saves us from despair, when nothing but
simple reliance upon God's love, without any present
evidence of it, can save us from hopelessness; when
nothing but almost reckless faith in His omnipotent
wisdom, will prevent us from sinking into positive moral
apathy and spiritual lethargy. Therefore, it is my
present endeavour to help some here to a recreation of
that sheer belief, that simple reliance, and that
reckless faith in God which trusts Him when His face is
veiled, and they do not even feel the grip of His hand.
Faber well sang:
"Thrice blest is he to whom is given
The instinct that can tell
That God is on the field, when He
Is most invisible."
That is
the instinct which may God grant every one of us to have
in these days.
Now these words were spoken by the prophet Jeremiah in a
day when the nation's desire, its best desire, was
perhaps never so evident. The people had begun to see the
fulfilment of God's promises and the working of His
providence. Their foes were being pushed from their land,
the beginnings of recultivation were taking place, and
the broken-down altars of God were being rebuilt. But all
was being done so slowly that they could not reconcile
the slowness of God with the implicit assurances upon
which their faith in Him rested. They were impatient and
restive under His apparent inactivity. Faith saw God's
beginnings and, like the disciples of later days,
"thought the kingdom must immediately appear!"
There is a great deal to be said for the faith of a
little child which cannot understand the reason of delay.
But you will not misunderstand me when I say that there
is a great deal more to be said for the faith of a grown
man who has come to know that God has an entirely
different scale for the measurement of time from those we
commonly use. There is still more to be said for the
faith of the man who is perfectly content to rest in the
fact that a thousand years are as one day with Him, and
one day as a thousand years. This was the faith of
Jeremiah. He had looked into the depths of the Infinite
God, and had seen that He was unhurried, and that His
ways were the more certain because they were not the more
obvious. So he waited calmly, and sought to renew courage
and patience and hope in the people, just because these
things were the expression of his own soul. Hence he
says: "It is good for men that they are kept
waiting, that they have to quietly hope for the salvation
of God."
You will readily understand that these words of his are
of infinitely wider application than to the Israel of
that day. I believe they are apposite to the case of
every one of us here today who is perplexed because, for
instance, the expected deliverance from sin in his own
life does not come as he thought it would. Or the
petition he offers for some good of which he conceives
himself to be in great need is not granted. Or the loved
one for whom he prays is not immediately converted, and
though he goes on praying he has almost lost heart about
it. Or the revival in his world for which he has
conscientiously wrought to the very last ounce of his
strength, does not seem to be even on the horizon. We
want to know why this delay, and what the spiritual good
of having quietly to wait and hope so long.
I am very sure that when the last word of human
experience about prayer has been said, we are still in
the presence of the greatest of all mysteries. The man
who thinks he knows so much about prayer, that he can
frame a philosophy of prayer, really confesses that he
knows little indeed. How prayer liberates spiritual
forces, who knows? Why God has ordained that men should
wait upon Him, uniting their wills with His in order to
exert the saving power of His grace both in their life
and through them in the lives of others - who can say?
With regard to this greatest of all subjects, there is
really nothing further to be said than that which Paul
said about all knowledge of God - "We know in part,
and we prophesy in part." But, thank God, we do
know! What we know we know with a certainty which nothing
can shake. But we only know in part. Therefore they are
mere suggestions that I venture to offer you today,
suggestions which have come with some degree of light and
encouragement to my own heart in regard to this assertion
- that it is good for a man to wait and hope for the
salvation of God.
It is almost unnecessary to say that there is no thought
in this word of any man having to wait until God is
willing to bestow upon him the primary gifts of pardon
and peace and forgiveness, the salvation which is His
free gift in Jesus Christ. The sinner who cries for
pardon, the weary and heavy-laden who ask for rest of
heart, the lonely who seek the fellowship of love, are
never kept waiting for the fulfilment of their desires.
The prodigal is welcomed before he utters his prepared
confession. The sinking man who cries "Lord, save
me", is at once conscious of being grasped by the
Hand of power. The Evangel of Christ bears the ageless
superscription that "now is the day of
salvation". In this respect, indeed, it is never God
who keeps men waiting, but men who keep Him waiting. But,
in regard to that aspect of His mercy which is concerned
with the strain of our present discipline, with the
anxiety of future uncertainty, with the relief of
immediate discomfort, with the weariness of unremoved
burdens - it is in that realm of life that we want to
know why God delays. Nor is it unnatural that we should
be impatient.
For instance, here is a good man who reads that "All
things work together for good to them that love
God", but who sees nothing in his life today but
chaos. His affairs have been completely ruined. His home
has been invaded by sorrow and disappointment, until the
nerves of all are on edge, and no one knows with
certainty what an hour is going to bring forth of fresh
calamity. That man has rested upon that Divine Word with
implicit confidence in its truth, but the delay in
realising its fulfilment has almost staggered his faith.
Is it to be wondered at that he should be asking today
what it all means?
There is a young man yonder, and there has been illumined
to his soul's vision this word: "In all things we
are more than conquerors through Him that loved us."
And yet he has been defeated even since he came to
Keswick, and this morning his face is toward the ground,
and not toward the Lord. He says, "What does it
mean? I have rested my whole weight, as I believe, upon
this promise of God, and my Lord delays His coming in
power to me. What does it mean?"
There is the busy worker - I have met him since I came to
Keswick - who has come from some far-off missionary
field, in which for the last ten years he has been
pouring out his life, seeking to live the life of a
citizen of the Kingdom of God resting upon that word -
"My word shall not return unto Me void, but shall
accomplish that which I please." And he confesses
today that he has seen it accomplish hardly anything.
What does it mean?
There is the great promise upon which every member of
Christ's Church just now is building more solidly than
ever a temple of hope: "Behold, I come
quickly." It seems as though Christ was never so
much needed as He is today. It seems as though
international relationship can never again be restored as
we have known it. It seems as though the scattered units
of Christ's Church can never be gathered together again
in one, save by His coming. And the Church cries out:
"Amen. Come quickly, Lord Jesus." But there is
not a sign of His coming. What do these delays of God
mean?
I am going to suggest three things, and they are mere
suggestions; but may they bring light to you, as they
have brought to me in past days. The first thing I want
to say about God's delays is this: It is only by enforced
waiting upon Him that we come to know God with that
knowledge which is the foundation of all character. I use
the word ENFORCED waiting upon God, because it is
only by being forced to wait upon God that some of us
ever do wait on Him. We are naturally impatient, we are
naturally impulsive, we naturally chafe at anything like
slowness, and God, by withholding the answer for which we
have looked, keeps us at His feet in order that we may
come to know Him. He is infinitely more concerned in the
making and remaking of our lives than in the gratifying
of our minds. He is infinitely more concerned in making
us men and women of His own pattern, and to deepen His
life in our souls, than to gratify some of the desires
which we often express in unconsidered prayer. For we
cannot come to know God, and inferentially we cannot come
to know ourselves, in an hour. God's delays do not
indicate any caprice on His part, but rather His concern
and compassion for us. They are directed toward saving us
from hurrying away from His presence before the lessons
of His grace have been more than mentally received. God
is preparing us, by keeping us waiting upon Him, worthily
to receive, to interpret, and then to use the gifts He
will yet give in answer to prayer and in fulfilment of
His word.
I constantly see tourist visitors to London rushing about
from Park to Palace, doing what they call the
"sights". And after a fevered week they go back
home thinking they know London. But do they? One of
Ruskin's students once said to him, on returning from a
first Italian visit: "Sir, immediately I entered the
Gallery at Florence, I knew in a moment what you had
always impressed upon us as the supremacy of
Botticelli." Ruskin's reply was, somewhat cutting.
He said: "Oh, you found that out in a moment? Well,
it took me twenty-two years to discover it!" And
there are a great many people who think they know God in
the light of a single experience! We are kept waiting
upon Him that we may become of the number of those who
really do know their God, and who consequently are
empowered to do exploits. God is making us; do not let us
be impatient under the process. God is making us; do not
let impatience and impetuosity take us, therefore, from
under the hand of the Master Workman. He is eliminating
the flaws, and remaking the marred vessels. The two
qualities which we need most - endurance and radiance -
are not imparted to any man in a single hour. God keeps
us waiting that in His presence, beholding His glory, we
may be changed into the same image from glory unto glory.
The second thing I want to say is this. Many of our
prayers must be passed through the refining medium of
God's wisdom, that is, of God's love, many of them must
be edited by God before they are answered. For
well-intentioned prayer is not always well-informed. Like
those who made requests of the Saviour, God often has to
say to His children, "Ye know not what ye ask".
If some of our prayers were immediately answered, the
consequence would be almost certain moral and spiritual
disaster. Our prayers have to be passed I say, through
the refining medium of God's wisdom, sometimes with
regard to their motive. "Ye have not because ye ask
amiss." There are men and women, for instance, who
pray for power while their real objective is
pre-eminence. What they really mean by power is that
which will make them prominent in His service. When our
motives are altogether unworthy of the words we express,
we have to be kept waiting until God turns upon us the
searchlight of His love, and learning the
untrustworthiness of our own impulses, we yield us to
that gracious Spirit who makes intercession in us
according to the will of God.
Not only in regard to the MOTIVE, but in regard
also to the content of our prayers, Christ has to say
again and again, "Can ye drink of the cup that I
drink of; are ye able to be baptized with the baptism
wherewith I am baptized?" For often we know not what
we ask, and hence God's delay in response. I have seen
children - we have all seen them - who have been utterly
spoiled by the weak good-nature of parents who gave them
at once everything they wanted. For human love may be
entirely lacking in wisdom. But the love and wisdom of
God are one. When He keeps us waiting for secondary
mercies, it is in order to make us know the value of the
primary and spiritual. We have to learn that God's
"No" is just as much an answer as God's
"Yes". We have to learn that God's "Not
yet" is just as truly an expression of Divine love
as God's "Immediately". The day will come to
every one of us when we shall know that God's silence was
in reality His most loving speech to us. For we shall see
that while seemingly inactive God has all the time been
working in us, bringing us into moral correspondence with
His will, which alone capacitates men to receive His
gifts.
Well do I recollect, some years ago, in the city of
Dublin, a man coming into the vestry-room of a church and
saying: "Sir, I want to thank you for that message
about God's love. I believe every word of it now, but I
did not six months ago." His eyes filled with tears;
and as I said: "What does it mean, my brother?"
He went on: "Six months ago my home was bright and
happy, and the shadow fell. I prayed earnestly that God
would save my wife and our infant. But He took them; and
I have come to know that He took them only in order to
bring me back to Himself, from whom I had wandered."
God's silence in that man's life was His richest and
kindest speech. And others of us have found this to be
true also; and more of us will find it so ere these dark
days in which we live have passed away.
The things we try to get rid of by prayer are often the
very things we can least afford to lose. Some of those
things we call burdens, of which we try to get rid in the
Sanctuary, are the things that God has placed upon us for
the steadying of life and the guiding of our energies
into channels which otherwise we should overlook and
miss. Paul learnt that there was something infinitely
better than the removal of the thorn-pain - infinitely
better! Thrice he besought the Lord to remove it - with
what interval between those prayers we know not. But
surely Paul, like the rest of us, was perplexed at God's
delay. And he ultimately found that God was preparing
something far better than the extraction of the thing
which caused a throbbing wound - "My grace is
sufficient for thee." If he had not had the
thorn-pain, like the nightingale which is said to sing
sweetest when its breast is pierced, he had never learned
the song: "Most gladly will I glory in my
infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon
me!" We learn, as we are kept waiting at His feet,
that the cord which we would have had God cut, He
disentangles, and so saves for purposes of His service.
God's ways are always justified of His children, if they
will patiently tarry His leisure.
Ere I pass on to the third and last suggestion I have to
make, may I say that surely we get an illustration of all
this in the burden of prayer which is increasingly
descending upon us for our nation. There are not a few of
us who are perplexed that God has not already intervened
to stay this terrible conflict. We look out from this
place of quiet rest, and see across the Channel the sons
of God being butchered upon the fields of France and
Belgium; and we cry to God to give victory to the cause
which is inherently right, and about which we have no
shame. Yet He does not do so. After a whole year, and
despite the sacrifice of thousands of precious lives, the
battle-line is drawn substantially as it was at first.
Why does God not put forth His power through our Forces,
and by scattering the nations that delight in war bring
this unspeakable strife to an end? Why have we no answer
back from Heaven that our cry is heard? Why does He delay
His coming when by one word He could end the whole
conflict? Ah! it is not that God cannot, nor that He will
not; but that an immediate victory for our land might
only mean a revival, in the basest form, of our national
sins. As a nation we are far from being morally ready for
victory, for there are few signs in our common life that
we have learned and taken to heart the lessons of this
chastisement. That is why God is keeping our nation
waiting. We have to be brought infinitely lower yet. We
have to learn yet what the law of God stands for. We have
to learn yet what the hideousness of sin in a man or
nation means. We have to learn that sin brings pain and
bloodshedding to man, as it brought pain and
bloodshedding to God. Then when the nation is morally
prepared and renewed I believe that victory will not be
delayed by an hour. But it will not come one hour sooner.
Hence the necessity of our quietly waiting for the
salvation of God. Though remember, in the last analysis,
it is not He who delays the answer to our prayer for
victory. It is we who delay Him.* (*[footnote] Spoken in
1915 during World War I.)
The third thing I want to say is this. Faith can only be
trained by being tested. As a man's muscles are only
hardened by exercise, so his faith only becomes strong
and ultimately invincible by being subjected to the
discipline of strain. For until it accepts the will of
God, not under compulsion, nor because there is no
alternative, but by free choice and glad surrender, faith
is lacking in essential quality. But when we are unmoved
by the fact that we are kept waiting, calmly conscious
that God's glory is intimately bound up with our lives
and prayers, and content that if He can afford to wait,
so too can we, one of life's greatest lessons has been
learnt. For faith reaches its triumph only when its
exercise ceases to be a deliberate activity and becomes
an instinctive attitude.
Sometimes we learn this by our own impetuous efforts to
hurry God. There are two conspicuous examples of this. Do
you remember Moses and his undisciplined effort at the
deliverance of his people? How disastrously it ended for
him! God had to take him into the schoolhouse of the
desert and keep him there for many a weary year. By his
impetuosity he had embarrassed God; and so, too, do many
of us. Do you remember Abraham with a wonderful promise
to support him, with a vision so great that it staggered
him, attempting to expedite God's purpose? You know the
dark story of Hagar and Ishmael, and all that it
afterward led to. Sometimes God likewise delays the
promises of His faithfulness in order that we too may
learn the utter futility of our every effort, and all the
sweat of our souls, apart from Him. For remember that the
faith of God must be vindicated in us before it can be
verified through us, and before we can be His effective
messengers to the world.
One last word. There is nothing in common between quiet
waiting upon God and lethargic indolence. We have known
those who excuse their non-participation in the
enterprises of Christ's Church because of this necessity
of quiet waiting on God. Let me say that there is no
greater mistake than to wait for subjective
manifestations and to neglect objective opportunities.
True waiting upon God expresses itself in the expenditure
of every energy of the soul at the clear directions for
whose interpretation we do not need to wait an hour. Oh,
the supine folly of the man who in these days of
tremendous opportunity is content to "wait upon
God" to open doors, to "wait upon God" to
enlarge opportunities, to "wait upon God" to
organise success and influence for him, while he himself
does nothing in the way of sacrifice - of giving himself,
of losing his life, for the Kingdom's sake! God does not
co-operate with dreamers. We cannot live in fellowship
with God and let evil stalk unchallenged, by neglecting
the wide-open doors of the world which call to our faith
and our loyalty.
I cannot forget that God did once say to His people:
"Stand still, and see the salvation of God."
But I also remember that that word was given to men and
women, a great host, who were walking in implicit
obedience to His leadership, and who in that pathway had
come up against the impassable. There are times in life
when God says these words to us, but only when, like
Israel, we are walking in the light of His will.
"We are not here to play, to dream, to drift;
We have hard work to do, and loads to lift;
Shun not the struggle! face it! 'Tis God's gift.
Say not,
'The days are evil! Who's to blame?'
And fold the hands, and acquiesce - oh, shame!
Stand up, speak out, act bravely in God's Name.
It matters
not how deep entrenched the wrong,
How hard the battle goes, the day how long;
Fight on! fight on! tomorrow comes the song!"
As we wait
upon God in this energy of implicit obedience to Him, He
will vindicate all His delays. He will do it as we stand,
like men who wait for their Lord, doing His will to the
very utmost of our power, knowing that when He comes He
will perfect that which concerns us; pushing the battle
to the gate, in the confidence that at the strategic
moment He will bring up reinforcements which shall mean
the final factor in victory, quietly hoping for that we
see not; saying to our souls again, and yet again,
"We see not yet all things put under Him, we see not
yet the fulfilment of our every desire; but we see Jesus
crowned. Blessed be His Name for ever!"
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