Touched with Our Infirmities

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Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Apr 27, 1916

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 93, No. 21.

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Touched with Our Infirmities

“We have not a high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.” Heb. 4:15.
An infirmity is a weakness. We may not have any particular sorrow or pain, yet be troubled with some weakness against which we may have to struggle. Over our failures and defeats we may shed bitter, scalding tears.
Many, even professed Christians, make no allowance for weakness or failure in others. Cold and legal in their religion, and encompassed with infirmities of their own, they nevertheless make no allowance for imperfections in others. They see only the outward appearance; the hidden struggles and agony they know not, and apparently care nothing for. They have no patience with those who stumble.
But, struggling soul, Jesus cares. Your weaknesses touch his heart of tenderness, and he loves and pities you. He has compassion on the erring, and those who are out of the way. Though we ought to do better, and our failures and manifestation of weakness have no excuse, yet Jesus understands. He knows our struggles. His eye penetrates the closet. He knows the provocation, and understands the temptations to which we are daily exposed. He is not severe and exacting. He comes to us as a comforter, with words to cheer and console in the storm and stress of life.
A naval officer tells how he was saved from dishonor in his first experience in a battle. He was then a young midshipman, and the volley from the guns of the enemy terrified him so that he almost fainted.
His superior officer saw his frightened condition, came close beside him, and keeping his own face toward the enemy, and holding the midshipman by the hand, said in a quiet, affectionate way, “Be of good courage, my boy. You will recover in a minute or two. I was just so when I went into battle the first time.”
The young man, speaking of this experience, said that it was as if an angel had come to him and put new strength into him. His fear and anguish of heart vanished at once, and from that time he was as brave as any on the ship. If the officer had dealt sternly with him, he would perhaps have been driven to failure, but kind sympathy dispelled his fear, and put new courage into his heart.
In like manner Jesus, when we are in the midst of life’s struggle, assailed by the enemy, and tempted to desert the ship, comes close by our side, and whispers in love and sympathy, “I understand it all. I have been a soldier in the ranks. I marched in human flesh against the hosts of the enemy. I know their strength, and I know how you feel. I have been tempted in all points as you are. I have felt every weakness, experienced every fear and dread of soul that you feel. But I overcame, and now I am with you in the conflict. Be of good courage. I will help you, strengthen you, and uphold you by the right hand of my righteousness.”
How comforting to know that while we may not find sympathy and comfort in human hearts; while many, even our brethren, may be harsh in judgment and bitter in denunciation, even though they cannot understand all, Jesus understands, and is touched with every sorrow and every struggle. In the darkest hours, when all human support fails us, and we are apparently forgotten, even then we are securely enthroned in the loving heart of the Redeemer. Amid the roar of the thunder, the glare of the lightning, the swish of the angry waves, that voice which in the last day will give life to the dead, is heard saying, “It is I; be not afraid.”
G. B. T.