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Chapter 9 of 29

01.07. Meditation 7

19 min read · Chapter 9 of 29

MEDITATION 7.

"This is my comfort in my affliction" Psalms 119:50

"The Lord disciplines those he loves, and he scourges everyone he accepts as a son. Our fathers disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it." Hebrews 12:6-11 The Bible affords a solid ground of comfort under trial, in the views which it presents of the Uses and Ends of affliction, under the economy of redemption. While it declares, that all our afflictions proceed from the hand of God, and that he employs them as a means of manifesting the rectitude, and vindicating the honor of his government — it affirms, nevertheless, that he takes no pleasure in the infliction of suffering for its own sake, and that "he does not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children of men." Had the Bible presented no other than this negative view of affliction, it would still have cleared the character of God from the unworthy suspicion, that he takes a cruel or capricious delight in the infliction of suffering, and would have served so far to compose our minds under trial, by giving us the assurance, that no suffering would be inflicted without some reason which was satisfactory to His infinite benevolence and wisdom. But the Bible is far from confining its consoling discoveries to this negative view of the subject: it not only denies that affliction is the result of caprice or cruelty — but affirms that, under the scheme of grace, it is the result of pure and comprehensive benevolence, and the means of positive good.

It is one of the grandest peculiarities of the scheme which is unfolded in Scripture, that it subordinates everything to one great and beneficent end — that it educes from acknowledged evil, the most substantial good — that it makes sin the occasion of a bright display of divine holiness, and suffering the occasion of a marvelous manifestation of divine love — and that, in its application to the hearts of men, it converts the very afflictions, which are the fruits of sin — into the means of progressive sanctification and eternal blessedness. The legal desert of "the old man" is thus made the moral discipline of "the new creature," — the penalty under the Law becomes a privilege under the Gospel — and those afflictions, which were awarded as the "wages of transgression," are converted, by the scheme of redemption, into "means of grace." This is beautifully intimated in Psalms 89:1-52, where, in stating the terms of the covenant of grace, God makes affliction the subject of a promise to the Redeemer, as the head of that covenant, and through him to his believing people: "If his sons forsake my law and do not follow my statutes, if they violate my decrees and fail to keep my commands — I will punish their sin with the rod, their iniquity with flogging; but I will not take my love from him, nor will I ever betray my faithfulness. I will not violate my covenant or alter what my lips have uttered." Psalms 89:30-34 Being provided for in the covenant of grace, and made the matter of a promise to the Redeemer, these chastisements are to be regarded as among the privileges of God’s people. It is true, that had they not sinned, they would have been exempted from suffering; and their trials are, therefore, in one sense, the consequences of guilt. But it is equally true, that they are not now awarded as the wages or penal effects of transgression — but subordinated to a plan of mercy, and sent for purposes of good. They come from God, not as messengers of his avenging wrath — but as tokens of his paternal love. And in sending them, he acts, not as an offended judge, awarding punishment — but as a kind and forgiving father, meting out such discipline and correction to his children as they each require.

It does not follow from these remarks, that every one who is visited with affliction is a child of God, or that, in every instance, affliction has the effect of instating the sufferer in that blessed condition. Like every other means, its effect will depend on the mode in which it is improved by the individual; and hence it is said to produce "the peaceable fruits of righteousness" only in those who are suitably "exercised thereby." In many cases, as in that of Pharaoh, affliction may be the means of hardening the heart, and may leave it more insensible to every right feeling, and more callous to every sacred impression than before. But this is no reason why we should not admire the benevolence, as well as the wisdom of God, in sending affliction — any more than the neglect of the ordinary and prescribed means, on the part of men, should lead us to question the goodness of God in giving them his Word and ordinances. By these, God furnishes them with an opportunity of improvement and a means of salvation; and in like manner, by affliction, he summons their attention to divine things, and calls upon them to repent and be saved. But while these words do not affirm that every one who is severely afflicted is a child of God — they do, on the other hand, assure us, that no amount, and no continuance of sorrow, can be a proof that we are not members of his family; and this discovery may well be regarded as a very valuable and a very consoling one.

For, when a believer is visited with severe affliction, and especially if his trials be numerous as well as severe, and if they are continued in his person, or in his family, for a great length of time, while many around him are enjoying uninterrupted prosperity, or speedily relieved from slighter trials — he will be too apt to entertain the awful thought, that God would not thus deal with him if he were really one of his children, and either despondingly to question his own interest in the divine favor, or, through the malignant suggestions of Satan, to cherish hard thoughts of God.

Many have experienced this sore trial of their patience and faith; but let it he impressed on our hearts, that it is not from the outward dispensations of providence — but from the inward qualities of our own character, that we are to draw the evidence of our state in the sight of God — that no pressure of affliction, however severe, and no continuance of it, however protracted, can prove that we are not the objects of God’s fatherly love, or that we are cast out of his favor. And that, although the aspect of a frowning providence may well be improved as a call to vigilant self-inspection, that we may discover whether God has any controversy with us, and for what cause, we should not, on any occasion, venture to regard affliction as a proof of reprobacy. On the contrary, "whom the Lord loves he chastens, and scourges every son whom he receives;" and if our chastisements seem to be more grievous, and more protracted than those of others, we may rest assured, either that our corruptions are so strong as to require a severe remedy — or that God is thereby preparing us for some great end, for some fiery temptation, or some eminent service in his Church on earth, or, perhaps, for a speedy translation to his own presence in Heaven. But whatever may be the immediate reasons of his dealings with us, let us rest assured, that every affliction which he sends on any of his children is the fruit of paternal love — that he has a most holy, wise, and benevolent purpose in view — and that, either here or hereafter, we shall have reason to acknowledge with many who have gone before us, that "God has done all things well," and that "in very faithfulness he has afflicted us."

We are taught in these words, not only that divine love is the source from which the afflictions of God’s people proceed — but that the end for which they are designed is the gradual improvement and ultimate perfection of their moral character.

According to the Scriptures, all suffering, under God’s administration, has a moral end. Were we to view affliction by itself, and without reference to its results, it would necessarily appear a very dark and mysterious part of divine providence. Physical suffering, apart from its moral uses, cannot be an object of pleasing contemplation to any rational being in the universe; but, in connection with these uses, it may be one of the brightest manifestations of divine wisdom, and one of the clearest proofs of his comprehensive benevolence.

We are not, indeed, at liberty to suppose, that suffering under the divine government is merely corrective. On the contrary, it is, in the case of the impenitent, judicial, penal, and punitive, in the strictest sense of the terms. But even in that case, although the party immediately subject to it is not benefitted — yet the infliction of punishment on account of sin, may, nevertheless, conduce to the moral instruction of unnumbered myriads of intelligent creatures, and to their confirmation in those habits of holy obedience, which, without such moral lessons, might be in danger of being broken by the power of temptation — since, to the power of temptation, we have reason to believe, they are exposed in common with those who have already fallen.

God’s government is conducted by means — to his rational creatures he presents rational inducements. And, in this view, the final punishment of some may be the result of the most comprehensive benevolence to his subjects at large — just as the incarceration, or capital punishment, of a few in this kingdom, is the means, if not of reclaiming them — yet of impressing on the minds of others the great distinctions of morals, and the obligations of social duty. But here we speak of affliction in reference to its bearings on God’s people; and, in their case, not only is there a moral influence exerted on others by means of their afflictions — but a direct moral end contemplated in their own blessed experience. God visits them with affliction, that "by the sadness of the countenance, the heart may be made better." And just in proportion as moral improvement and perfection are superior to mere physical enjoyment or worldly prosperity, in the same proportion ought our gratitude for the benefit conferred, to exceed our sorrow for the suffering inflicted. To a mind which is sensible wherein the true nobility and happiness of its nature consist, there can be no difficulty in perceiving, that whatever tends to subdue unruly passion, or to implant, invigorate, and nourish the higher principles and affections of the soul — should be valued in proportion to the greatness of its design, however painful it may be in itself. And if the nauseous draught be received with eagerness, when the restoration of bodily health is expected from it — then how much more should we be willing to taste of that cup of sorrow, however bitter, by which our immortal spirits are to be restored to a state of moral healthfulness and vigor? That the general design of all the afflictions with which any of God’s people are visited in the present state, is their progressive sanctification and final perfection, is evident from the whole scope and tenor of Scripture, wherein the necessity and usefulness of affliction, for this end, are frequently stated in very emphatic terms, and illustrated by apposite examples: "This is the will of God concerning you," says the apostle, "even your sanctification." And this being the grand object of God’s design in Scripture, is also the end of all his dealings in providence. It is not only said, "that affliction yields the peaceable fruit of righteousness," but that "God chastens us not for his pleasure — but for our profit, that we might he partakers of his holiness." That this is the design of all the afflictions with which we are visited, may well serve to reconcile us to them, even when they are most frequent and most severe. For to a mind that is sensible of its own high capacity, and of its best interests — what object can appear so truly great or desirable as this — a progressive and ultimately a perfect conformity, through the sanctification of its powers, to the very image and character of God? That man is capable of such a resemblance, is the very highest proof of his dignity as a rational and moral being. That God designs such a resemblance, is the noblest proof of his affection; for what higher gift could he bestow than a character similar to his own? And that affliction is one of the means by which this blessing is to be bestowed; and this resemblance improved and perfected, is one of the most precious truths of Scripture, and the very sweetest consolation of sorrow. Were we sensible of the infinite capacities for improvement and happiness which such a design, on the part of God, necessarily implies on the part of man; were we duly impressed with the consideration, that the nobility of our nature consists in our capacity of knowing God, and being like him; that the misery and degradation of our present estate, flow from our ignorance of God, and the dissimilarity of our thoughts and feelings to those of the Divine mind; that our only prospect of being restored either to honor or happiness, depends on our being restored, in some measure, to a state of conformity to the will and likeness of God; and that, for this high and lofty end, affliction is employed as a means by which, if duly improved, that end may be attained in some measure on earth, and enjoyed perfectly and eternally in heaven — oh! what heart would then murmur or complain, because of the strokes by which the rock is beaten into a conformity with God’s image; or because of the fire of that furnace, by which the dross of our nature is separated from the pure and precious ore, and out of which we are to come as "gold seven times purified — vessels of honor, fitted for the Master’s use?" That affliction is a means fitted to this end, might be inferred from the fact, that it is employed as such by a God of unerring wisdom, who knows our frame and all the influences by which it can be affected, for good or for evil. But we are not left to conceive of it as an arbitrary appointment, between which and its end, no natural adaptation can be traced. It is not only a sovereign remedy — but a suitable remedy, and adapted, in many respects, to the evil which it is designed to cure. The evil of our present condition consists mainly in our affections being estranged from God and given to the creature; in our tendency to forsake the fountain of living waters, and to hew out for ourselves in the world, cisterns, broken cisterns, which can hold no water. The connection between alienation from God and attachment to the creature, is so intimate and sure, that the one is inseparable from the other; it being a law of our nature, that our affections and desires must have some object on which they fix their regards, and from which they draw, or expect, their gratification. And if they be once estranged from God, their proper object — they will infallibly fix on some one or more objects in the world.  

Thus, a man who, forgetting his immortal prospects, debases his nature by making himself the slave of avarice; whose earliest thoughts and whose last cares are engrossed with money; who thinks of nothing, speaks of nothing, cares for nothing, and does nothing, without a reference to the accumulation of a fortune; who, for this, lives the life of a slave, and stirs not from his place of business, and plies the oar of trade "from shining morn to dewy eve". On such a man, what could have so powerful an effect as the total ruin of his fortune, and the scattering of his gains? Cruel, indeed, would such an outcome be to all his anxious thoughts, and prudent plans, and industrious habits, and bold enterprises — had he no other than an earthly prospect. But God designs that man for eternity — He offers him a portion in Heaven — money stands between him and that prospect; and God dashes the cup of prosperity from his trembling hand, that it may not drown his soul in everlasting perdition! And is not this a benevolent deed? Is it not dictated by the highest wisdom, as the very discipline which is most necessary, and will be most effectual in such a case?

Again, a man who, losing all relish for the sweets of divine contemplation, and the exercise of his moral affections, gives himself over to the indulgence of his sensual appetites, who finds his highest happiness in the gratification of his palate, or the excitement of drunkenness, or the habits of profligacy. On such a man, what would have so powerful an effect as the total ruin of his health, and the visitation of an illness which left him neither the capacity nor the wish for his favorite indulgences? God designs that man, also, for eternity; but he lingers around the cisterns of worldly pleasure, in the fond hope of realizing a happiness which he has long waited for in vain. God shatters the cistern, and dashes the cup of pleasure out of his reluctant hand, that he may no longer deceive himself with the vain hope — but seek to the fountain of living waters which springs up unto everlasting life. And is not this, also, a benevolent deed — however painful may be the present disappointment, and however protracted the suffering which it occasions? Was it not dictated by the highest wisdom, as the very discipline which is most necessary, and will be most effectual in such a case?

Again, a man of ardent affections has allowed his heart to be estranged from God, by an undue attachment to his wife, or children, or other relatives and friends. Amiable as his kindness to them appears — yet, if they engross that place in his affection which is due to God alone — his heart is not in a right moral state, and his happiness is based on a precarious foundation. God takes away the desire of his eyes by a stroke — he is stunned by the shock of bereavement. But, perhaps, even this is not enough; his affections thus violently severed from one object, may only gather into greater strength, and settle on another. That other object of undue attachment is also smitten and dies. And it is not until, by such strokes, he is impressed with the vanity of everything, except the enjoyment of God as his chief good — that the afflicting hand of providence shall be withdrawn from him and his house.

Painful, indeed, is the breaking up of a family by bereavement, when death smites one, and then another, of the happy household. And desolate, indeed, is the heart of him who is thus left alone in a wilderness where roses once had encircled his path; but they stood between him and God, and it was in mercy and faithfulness that God sent a worm into his gourd, until it withered around him and died.

These illustrations may serve to show, at once, the goodness and the wisdom of God in sending affliction, and adapting the methods of His discipline, to the necessities of His people. And they cannot fail to recall to the minds of some, the recollection of many incidents in their past life, which were felt to be very painful, and seemed very dark and mysterious at the time of their occurrence — but to which they can now look back as the very brightest manifestation of the care and kindness of their Redeemer.

They may remember a time when the wealth, or pleasures, or business, or the world — appeared to them robed in attractions to which they were too willing to yield, and threatened to engross the chief place in those affections which God challenges as his own.

They may remember some one object, which, more than any other, engaged their eager pursuit, and awakened their deepest interest; and that, for this, they were on the very verge of committing themselves to a course of life, which, if prosecuted with the ardor with which they were about to enter on it — would have long before now estranged them altogether from God, and ultimately conducted them to eternal perdition! But, just as their affections were gathering around it, and just as they were stretching forth their hand to seize it — that cup of pleasure, or power, or prosperity, or worldliness — was dashed in pieces. And as they wept over its broken fragments, they were taught a lesson which they were very reluctant to learn: that the creature is too frail and perishing to satisfy an immortal soul, and that God would not permit them to seek their happiness in what was unworthy of their highest pursuits.

If, by these means, they were first awakened to a perception of the vanity of the world, and of the infinite magnitude and importance of divine things; if their afflictions were so sanctified as to become the means, in the hand of God, of their conversion — then, I am sure that they cannot fail to look back on the most painful of them all, not only without one sentiment of rebellious regret — but with the deepest emotions of gratitude and of admiration! They will never cease to regard the discipline of affliction as one of the most powerful instruments of good in the hands of the Redeemer, and one of the most precious privileges of his people — if, by these means, they have really "had their eyes opened, and have been turned from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto the living God!" With the views which were then, for the first time, opened up to them of the transcendent truths of the gospel, and which, if they are really converted, they must still cherish with the fondest attachment — they can look back on affliction, and see it in a new and most interesting light — even as a very thick dark cloud — but a cloud, nevertheless, which has showered down upon them the most precious blessings, and has shed over their souls the freshness and fertility of "a well watered garden, which the Lord has blessed." In their subsequent history, too, they may remember, that just as often as their affections were about to return to the world, when they had begun to backslide from God, or were in danger of doing so — just so often did God interpose, by a new stroke of affliction, whereby they were admonished of their danger, and prevented from ruin.

They may remember many seasons, when the impressions of spiritual truths were almost effaced from their minds, and when "the lusts of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life," were making gradual but sure encroachments on their minds and desires — when their hearts were beginning to settle down into a contented enjoyment of the world, and they were little, if at all, animated by the heavenly hopes of the Gospel. In these circumstances, it was needful for their correction, and spiritual progress, and comfort — that God should take them into his own hands, and administer such rebukes and chastisements as might wean their affections from the world, and bring them back to himself. And, in such cases, if they will consider the matter attentively, they will find, that the affliction with which they were visited, was the very likeliest and fittest means of accomplishing his gracious design. And what gratitude should they cherish towards God — what profound admiration of his wisdom — what unshaken confidence in his faithfulness — when they reflect, that at such seasons, and in such circumstances, his thoughts towards them were thoughts of love? That when they were doing what they could to provoke him, by manifesting a preference for the creature, and when they had fallen from their first love — he did not, and would not let them forsake him; that, although willing to live at a distance from him, he was determined to bring them near; and, that when, if they had been left to themselves, they would have gone on in a course of declension and discomfort — he did, in confirmation of his holy promise, chasten them, "that they might not be condemned with the world!" And if, at such seasons, the religion which had long lain dormant in their bosoms, and seemed ready to die, was revived and invigorated, and enabled them to bear up under the shock of bereavement — oh! how should they rejoice and be thankful, that the light of religion was made to dawn on their hearts, and that the thick dark cloud was sent to turn their eye again to that light, shining amidst the storm, as the rainbow of peace and the pledge of safety?

If the believer has thus experienced, even on earth, the blessed effects of affliction, he will the more easily comprehend the import, and believe the truth, of those statements in Scripture, which refer to its ultimate outcome and effect, in a future world of perfect holiness and peace. Here, the benefits of affliction, however valuable in themselves, are only partially enjoyed, by reason of the opposition which every holy influence meets with, from the remaining depravity of his heart, and other influences of a contrary nature to which he is exposed, from the contagion of a world that lies in wickedness. The iron may be taken from a furnace heated seven times, and beaten with many strokes — but it contains within itself much dross, which prevents the pure ore from being fashioned as it ought, and there plays upon it a cold current which hardens it, even while it is subjected to the artist’s stroke. But there, all dross having been removed, and all unfriendly influences excluded, it shall be presented pure and spotless, and remain so forever. It is in Heaven alone, that the full benefit of earthly afflictions shall be known and enjoyed. And what can reconcile us to the discipline of affliction, if this reflection will not — that it will terminate in a state of perfect holiness and bliss; and that, meanwhile, it is preparing us for that blessed consummation?

It will terminate — the period is not far distant when all our sorrows and afflictions shall come to an end, when death shall bring us to that house where "the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest;" and when once the grave "has opened its peaceful bosom to receive us," the world, with all its changes and sorrows, can affect our comfort no more. The storm may rage above us, and the whirlwind sweep the solitary churchyard; the din of civil tumult may arise in the streets; the war-cry may be raised, and the shock of battle succeed; the voice of famine may wail around us — yet no note disturbs the peaceful slumbers of the dead! But affliction will not terminate merely in the stillness of the tomb; it will be followed by the bliss of Heaven, for which it is even now preparing us, and where, finally and forever, "the broken heart shall be bound up; the mourner comforted; beauty shall be appointed for ashes, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness!" "And God himself shall wipe away all tears from our eyes!"

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