The glory which he has in reserve for them must be surpassing glory, for it was to bring them to it that he was willing to bruise his Son and to put him to grief. Eye hath not seen it; ear hath not heard it ; it is far beyond what we can comprehend, yet it is all reality. God is not ashamed to be called our God because he hath prepared for us a city. Were that city not worthy of himself he would be ashamed to have called himself by the name of "our God." For that implies large blessings on his part, and it leads to large expectations on ours, expectations which he cannot disappoint.
He did not count this glory to be bought for us at too dear a rate, even though the price was the sufferings of His only begotten Son. If, then. God thus estimated the glory to which we were to be brought, shall not \ve do the same ? If he thought it worth all the suffer- ings of His Son, shall we not think it worth out poor sufferings here ? Shall we not say, " I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us."*
This is consolation. It is that which most naturally occurs to us, and it is both scriptural and effectual. This is what is usually pre-
* Rom. viii. 18.
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sented to the afflicted saint, and it is what he feels to be very precious and suitable. But though the most common and the most natural consolation, it is by no means the only one. Let us suggest a few others.
1. Jesus weeps with us. "In ALL our afflic- tion he is afflicted." He knows our sorrows, for he has passed through them all, and there- fore he feels for us. He is touched with the feeling of our griefs as well as of our infirmi- ties. Man, very man, — man all over, even in his glory he enters most fully into the fellow- ship of our burdens and sorrows, whatever these may be ; for there is not one which he did not taste when he "dwelt among us" here. His is sympathy, deep, real, and true. It is no fiction, no fancy. We do not see his tears fall- ing upon us ; neither do we clasp his hand nor feel the beating of his heart against ours. But still his communion with us in suffering is a reality. We may not understand how it can be. But He understands it ; and he can make us feel it, whether we can comprehend it or not.
2. We are made partakers of Christ's silverings. What honor is this ! We arc baptized with his baptism ; we drink of his cup, we are made like him in sorrow as we shall hereafter be made like him in joy ! How
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soothing and sustaining ! If reproach, and shame, and poverty are ours ; let us remember that they were his also. If we have to go down to Gethsemane, or up to the cross ; let us think that he was there before us. It is when keeping our eye on this that we are brought somewhat to realize the feeling of the Apostle, when he " rejoiced in his sufferings" for the church, as "filling up that which was behind (literally the leavings of Christ's sufferings) of the sufferings of Christ in his flesh for his body's sake, which is the church."* To be treated better than Christ was, is neither what a thoughtful soul could expect, nor what a loving heart could desire.
3. Suffering is the family lot. This we have already dwelt upon, and we recur to it simply to present it more prominently as a consolation. The path of sorrow is no unfre- quented way. All the saints have trodden it. We can. trace their foot-prints there. It is comforting, nay, it is cheering to keep this in mind. Were we cast fettered into some low dungeon, would it not be consolation to know that many a martyr had been there before us, would it not be cheering to read their names written with their own hand? all round the * Col. i. 24.
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ancient walls? Such is the solace we may extract from all suffering ; for the furnace into which we are cast has been consecrated by many a saint already.
4. All things work together for our good. Nothing is unsuitable, unseasonable, or unpro- fitable. Out of all evil comes good to the saints ; out of all darkness comes light ; out of all sorrow comes joy. Each pang, sharp or slight, is doing its work, — the very work which God designs, the very work which we could not do without. The bed of sorrow is not only like Solomon's chariot, all " paved with love ;" but, like it, moves on with mighty swiftness, bearing us most blessedly onwards to the in- heritance of the undefiled. The forces of earth, unless they all bear in one line, or nearly so, tend to counteract each other, and arrest the common impulse. But the forces which God brings to bear upon us in affliction are all directly and necessarily impulsive. Come from what quarter they may, or from opposite quarters all at once, they still bear us successfully forward. "All things work toge- ther for our good." " All things are ours."