» H. W. Beecher.
2 COR. I. 3, 4 II
less to assuage grief. We only know it is there, and either we must have it taken away or must be taught how to bear it ; in other words, we feel the pain, and we long after either happiness or comfort. And of the two it is not happiness but comfort that God has appointed for us. "I pray not," said Christ of His disciples, " that thou shouldest take them out of the world, but that thou shouldest keep them from the evil " ; and He began His Sermon on the Mount by declaring that the poor, the suffering, the mourning — all whom we call unhappy — are blessed, " for they shall be comforted."
^ The one thing in sorrow which makes it sometimes almost unbearable is its apparent aimlessness. Why am I made to suffer thus ? What have I done ? Hush, impatient spirit ! thou art in God's school of sorrow for a special purpose. Be careful to notice now how He comforts thee. Watch His methods. See how He wraps up the broken spirit, with touch so tender, and bandage so accurately adjusted. Eemember each text which He suggests — put them down so as not to be forgotten : there will come a time in your life when you will be called on to comfort another afflicted as you are.^
(3) He comforts in darkness. — This does not by any means signify that God will remove all difficulties and fill every darkness with perfect light. God may do that. God does do that often for men. No one ever ought to believe that any religious difficulty he may have is hopeless and give it up in despair. He ought always to stand looking at every such difficulty, owning its darkness, but ready to see it brighten as the east brightens with the rising of the sun. Many of our religious doubts are like buildings which stand beside the road which we are travelling. When we first come in sight of them, we cannot understand them. They are all in confusion ; they show no plan. We have come on them from the rear, from the wrong side. But, as we travel on, the road sweeps round them, and we come in front of them. Their design unwinds itself and we understand the beauty of wall and tower and window. So we come to many religious questions from the rear, from the wrong side. Let us keep on along the open road of righteousness. Some day we shall perhaps face them and see their orderly beauty.
^ Why do I not go to God with my doubts ? Perhaps I cau ^ F. B. Meyer, Present Tenses, 79,
12 COMFORT
find no certainty about religious things, and I hardly dare ask for certainty. It seems like haggling and arguing with God to tell Him of my doubts. Who am I that He should care to convince me and answer my questions ? This is a bad mood, but it is common enough. But I can count my enlightenment as some- thing greater than my own release from doubt ; if I can see it as XDart of the process by which " the light which lighteth every man " is slowly spreading through the world, then it is no longer insignificant. I dare to hope for it. I dare to pray for it. I make myself ready for it. I cast aside frivolity and despair, the two benighteners of the human soul, and when God comes and over, under, nay, through every doubt proves Himself to me, I take Him with a certainty which is as humble as it is solemn and sure.^
II.
Whence Comfoet Comes.
'•The God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and God of all comfort."
1. Invariably when man confronts the problem of suffering he uses his doctrine of God to aid him in the solution. The history of human thought in all times and in all religions will, it is believed, be found to verify this statement. By a companion intuition to that which prompts man to ask why he suffers, man is prompted to feel that God is in some way related to his suffer- ings. This would be true in the case of an atheist, if there exists such a state of mind as pure atheism. The atheist, denying the existence of God, would thereby relate the conception of a God negatively to human suffering, saying : " There being no God, the God-idea has no bearing whatever on the sufferings of the human race." This would be true in the case of the agnostic, who declines to commit himself to a positive statement of belief on the subject of God. He would relate God tentatively to human trouble, saying : " He may send it, or He may not ; in the absence of physical demonstration it is impossible to tell." This would be true in the case of the ethnic religions ; for example, in the case of Zoroastrianism, the ancient Persian faith, with its dualism, __two co-eternal gods, arrayed against one another in ceaseless
* Phillips Brooks.
2 COR. I. 3, 4 13
opposition touching man's condition. There is Ormuzd, the god of good, sending every blessing on the race ; there is Ahriman, the god of evil, showering upon humanity woe, disappointment, and every form of ill. These illustrations might be indefinitely multiplied, and in each case we would discover the tendency of the human mind to place a doctrine of God in some relation, negative, tentative, or positive, to the problem of suffering. The reason for this is plain ; the sufferings of the race are so tremen- dous, so unceasing, and in innumerable instances so out of proportion to any recognized standard of justice — there is a feeling too deep for analysis, too axiomatic to call for demonstra- tion— that in some way, if there is a God, humanity's one hope of present consolation or of future relief must connect itself with Him, and be evolved through Him. Deep down below all creeds, the hope of a suffering world utters that many-sided, infinite syllable " God," and feeling the problem of suffering to be greater than man can handle alone, confesses, sometimes scarce knowing what it means : " To whom shall we go but unto thee ! "