SUFFERING AND SERVING

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Oct 20, 1887

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 13, No. 40.

SUFFERING AND SERVING.

"Sorrowful, yet always rejoicing," not always and only rejoicing, is the law of a Christian life. It is impossible for us to assume that unsuffering attitude so often commended to us; to possess that spirit of unmixed joy so often exalted as the real spirit of Christianity, without forfeiting everything. If we suffer not with Him, how shall we be glorified with Him? The genius of our religion is not the genius of Jove, but the genius of Jesus; not the genius that laughs, and laughs on, while men "sink into the depths, with bubbling groan;" but the genius that plunges into the dark and bloody sea, and with mighty struggle and strong crying and tears goes down beneath those doomed souls, and lifts them up into the bosom of God.

The Christian who has no agony of soul can have no depth of soul; and the Christian that has no depth of soul can have no growth of soul; and the Christian that has no growth of soul can have no joy of soul. Out of the depths—de profundis—in Jesus comes the pain, the growth, the joy. "He that saveth his life shall lose it," and, accordingly, he who refuses to go with Jesus to Gethsemane cannot see him "in the holy mount;" he who is sightless will, after all, be songless. "For if we suffer with him, we shall be glorified together."

Moreover, a Christianity that retains no marks of Calvary is powerless over the world. "I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto Me." When our Christianity ceases to be a "lifted-up" Christianity, it ceases to be a lifting-up Christianity. It is not the light refrain of a laughing song nor the amicable invitation of merry spirits that awakens a world dead in sin, that warns it of danger, and constrains it to seek refuge in God. It is the startling pageant of a church bowed under the cross, the surprising sight of one going forth weeping, bearing the precious seed. It is Paul lifting a manacled hand and answering the feeble sarcasm of the king: "I would to God that, whether with little or with much, not thou only, but also all that hear me this day, might become such as I am, except these bonds." It is Luther, alone in the midst of that brilliant assemblage of frowning ecclesiastics and scornful nobility, exclaiming: "It is neither safe nor expedient to do anything against the conscience. Here I stand; I cannot otherwise. God help me. Amen."

A church that suffers not, serves not. A church that aspires to live in a perpetual holiday must not be surprised to learn that holidays are never harvest days. From the "tears and temptations" of the apostle sprang the churches of Asia, and ever hath "the blood of the martyrs" been "the seed of the church." All glory centers in the cross, because all grace and service go forth from it. They thought Paul mad, because they could not understand the warmth and tearful earnestness of his appeal. Better that the church, in her serious devotion to truth and soberness, should be esteemed mad by the world than that God should compare it to children in the marketplace, who say to their fellows, "We have piped unto you, and ye have not danced." O Lord—

"Safe to the hidden house of thine abiding, Carry the weak knees and the heart that faints. Shield from the scorn and cover from the chiding, Give the world joy, but patience to the saints." —Standard.