One of the great dangers of life is that of
losing sight of God's great design in the details by
which that design is worked out, and it has been
well said that we entirely lose the value of any
experience if we isolate it. That is, if you take
your sorrow and regard it apart from the great
designing love of God, if you take your losses, your
temporary setbacks, your momentary depressions, and
dwell upon these things as if they were the only
experiences of God's providence, and as if they were
not related to the great central control of His love
- you will entirely miss their value. It is that we
may be saved from such peril that we are meditating
together thus on some of God's unlikely but never
unkindly ministries.
With this brief recapitulation let me ask you to
turn to the word which is the occasion of our
thought this morning in regard to the Divine
ministry of delay by which God oftentimes tests His
people. I will ask you to turn to the words of
Jeremiah the prophet, in the book of Lamentations,
in the third chapter, at the twenty-fourth verse: "The
Lord is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will
I hope in him. The Lord is good unto them that
wait for him, to the soul that seeketh him. It is
good that a man should both hope and quietly wait
for the salvation of the Lord." It is
especially on those last words that I want our
meditation to be based: "It is good that a man
should both hope and quietly wait for the
salvation of the Lord."
Let us frankly admit at the outset that one of the
great difficulties of life with many of us is
concerned with the fact that God sometimes seems to
delay His answers to our prayers. The most
perplexing problem of many a Christian life is just
this: that God apparently does not answer, and
apparently does not even heed much of our crying. By
His grace our faith in Him has not been finally
disturbed. By His grace this conflict has been
carried on courageously in secret. Outside our own
heart no one even suspects that there is such a
conflict. But you know that there is, and I know
that there is, and sometimes the only word that
rises from our hearts when we come into God's
presence is almost the last word which came from the
Saviour's lips: "My God, why?" This is not the first
question of the Christian life. Faith's first
question is usually "How?" There is a stage in
Christian experience when we are constantly saying
"How?" - "How can a man be born when he is old?"
"How can these things be?" "How can this Man give us
His flesh to eat?" "How are the dead raised up, and
with what body do they come?" These are some of the
first questions of the Christian life. But as we go
on with God, as life deepens, as its necessities
become heavier, its sorrows more acute, and our
perceptions more alert also, the question which
rises from the heart of many a disturbed and
distressed believer is: "My God," not "how?" but
"WHY?" I have already suggested that what many of us
are seeking at this time is not comfort, nor
sympathy, nor even the lightening of our loads. We
are seeking some explanation, some interpretation
from God Himself as to what He is doing in these our
lives. Some of us are distressed almost to the point
of desertion - desertion of our own allegiance, and
desertion of His colours, because He seems to delay,
indeed almost to deny the things we ask Him.
Yet, I would remind you that there is nothing which
the Word of God so amply encourages men to do as to
pray. There are promises attached to prayer which do
not attach to any other condition. There are riches
which are covenanted to men as the result of prayer
and waiting upon God, which they can obtain in no
other way. And it is just because the promises with
regard to prayer are so great, so high, so wide,
that these delays of God perplex us, and we cry out
this morning, "My God, why?" There are times in life
when nothing but sheer belief in God's goodness
saves us from despair, when nothing but simple
reliance upon God's love, without any present
evidence of it, can save us from hopelessness; when
nothing but almost reckless faith in His omnipotent
wisdom, will prevent us from sinking into positive
moral apathy and spiritual lethargy. Therefore, it
is my present endeavour to help some here to a
recreation of that sheer belief, that simple
reliance, and that reckless faith in God which
trusts Him when His face is veiled, and they do not
even feel the grip of His hand. Faber well sang:
"Thrice blest is he to whom is given
The instinct that can tell
That God is on the field, when He
Is most invisible."
That is the instinct which may God grant
every one of us to have in these days.
Now these words were spoken by the prophet Jeremiah
in a day when the nation's desire, its best desire,
was perhaps never so evident. The people had begun
to see the fulfilment of God's promises and the
working of His providence. Their foes were being
pushed from their land, the beginnings of
recultivation were taking place, and the broken-down
altars of God were being rebuilt. But all was being
done so slowly that they could not reconcile the
slowness of God with the implicit assurances upon
which their faith in Him rested. They were impatient
and restive under His apparent inactivity. Faith saw
God's beginnings and, like the disciples of later
days, "thought the kingdom must immediately appear!"
There is a great deal to be said for the faith of a
little child which cannot understand the reason of
delay. But you will not misunderstand me when I say
that there is a great deal more to be said for the
faith of a grown man who has come to know that God
has an entirely different scale for the measurement
of time from those we commonly use. There is still
more to be said for the faith of the man who is
perfectly content to rest in the fact that a
thousand years are as one day with Him, and one day
as a thousand years. This was the faith of Jeremiah.
He had looked into the depths of the Infinite God,
and had seen that He was unhurried, and that His
ways were the more certain because they were not the
more obvious. So he waited calmly, and sought to
renew courage and patience and hope in the people,
just because these things were the expression of his
own soul. Hence he says: "It is good for men that
they are kept waiting, that they have to quietly
hope for the salvation of God."
You will readily understand that these words of his
are of infinitely wider application than to the
Israel of that day. I believe they are apposite to
the case of every one of us here today who is
perplexed because, for instance, the expected
deliverance from sin in his own life does not come
as he thought it would. Or the petition he offers
for some good of which he conceives himself to be in
great need is not granted. Or the loved one for whom
he prays is not immediately converted, and though he
goes on praying he has almost lost heart about it.
Or the revival in his world for which he has
conscientiously wrought to the very last ounce of
his strength, does not seem to be even on the
horizon. We want to know why this delay, and what
the spiritual good of having quietly to wait and
hope so long.
I am very sure that when the last word of human
experience about prayer has been said, we are still
in the presence of the greatest of all mysteries.
The man who thinks he knows so much about prayer,
that he can frame a philosophy of prayer, really
confesses that he knows little indeed. How prayer
liberates spiritual forces, who knows? Why God has
ordained that men should wait upon Him, uniting
their wills with His in order to exert the saving
power of His grace both in their life and through
them in the lives of others - who can say? With
regard to this greatest of all subjects, there is
really nothing further to be said than that which
Paul said about all knowledge of God - "We know in
part, and we prophesy in part." But, thank God, we
do know! What we know we know with a certainty which
nothing can shake. But we only know in part.
Therefore they are mere suggestions that I venture
to offer you today, suggestions which have come with
some degree of light and encouragement to my own
heart in regard to this assertion - that it is good
for a man to wait and hope for the salvation of God.
It is almost unnecessary to say that there is no
thought in this word of any man having to wait until
God is willing to bestow upon him the primary gifts
of pardon and peace and forgiveness, the salvation
which is His free gift in Jesus Christ. The sinner
who cries for pardon, the weary and heavy-laden who
ask for rest of heart, the lonely who seek the
fellowship of love, are never kept waiting for the
fulfilment of their desires. The prodigal is
welcomed before he utters his prepared confession.
The sinking man who cries "Lord, save me", is at
once conscious of being grasped by the Hand of
power. The Evangel of Christ bears the ageless
superscription that "now is the day of salvation".
In this respect, indeed, it is never God who keeps
men waiting, but men who keep Him waiting. But, in
regard to that aspect of His mercy which is
concerned with the strain of our present discipline,
with the anxiety of future uncertainty, with the
relief of immediate discomfort, with the weariness
of unremoved burdens - it is in that realm of life
that we want to know why God delays. Nor is it
unnatural that we should be impatient.
For instance, here is a good man who reads that "All
things work together for good to them that love
God", but who sees nothing in his life today but
chaos. His affairs have been completely ruined. His
home has been invaded by sorrow and disappointment,
until the nerves of all are on edge, and no one
knows with certainty what an hour is going to bring
forth of fresh calamity. That man has rested upon
that Divine Word with implicit confidence in its
truth, but the delay in realising its fulfilment has
almost staggered his faith. Is it to be wondered at
that he should be asking today what it all means?
There is a young man yonder, and there has been
illumined to his soul's vision this word: "In all
things we are more than conquerors through Him that
loved us." And yet he has been defeated even since
he came to Keswick, and this morning his face is
toward the ground, and not toward the Lord. He says,
"What does it mean? I have rested my whole weight,
as I believe, upon this promise of God, and my Lord
delays His coming in power to me. What does it
mean?"
There is the busy worker - I have met him since I
came to Keswick - who has come from some far-off
missionary field, in which for the last ten years he
has been pouring out his life, seeking to live the
life of a citizen of the Kingdom of God resting upon
that word - "My word shall not return unto Me void,
but shall accomplish that which I please." And he
confesses today that he has seen it accomplish
hardly anything. What does it mean?
There is the great promise upon which every member
of Christ's Church just now is building more solidly
than ever a temple of hope: "Behold, I come
quickly." It seems as though Christ was never so
much needed as He is today. It seems as though
international relationship can never again be
restored as we have known it. It seems as though the
scattered units of Christ's Church can never be
gathered together again in one, save by His coming.
And the Church cries out: "Amen. Come quickly, Lord
Jesus." But there is not a sign of His coming. What
do these delays of God mean?
I am going to suggest three things, and they are
mere suggestions; but may they bring light to you,
as they have brought to me in past days. The first
thing I want to say about God's delays is this: It
is only by enforced waiting upon Him that we come to
know God with that knowledge which is the foundation
of all character. I use the word ENFORCED
waiting upon God, because it is only by being forced
to wait upon God that some of us ever do wait on
Him. We are naturally impatient, we are naturally
impulsive, we naturally chafe at anything like
slowness, and God, by withholding the answer for
which we have looked, keeps us at His feet in order
that we may come to know Him. He is infinitely more
concerned in the making and remaking of our lives
than in the gratifying of our minds. He is
infinitely more concerned in making us men and women
of His own pattern, and to deepen His life in our
souls, than to gratify some of the desires which we
often express in unconsidered prayer. For we cannot
come to know God, and inferentially we cannot come
to know ourselves, in an hour. God's delays do not
indicate any caprice on His part, but rather His
concern and compassion for us. They are directed
toward saving us from hurrying away from His
presence before the lessons of His grace have been
more than mentally received. God is preparing us, by
keeping us waiting upon Him, worthily to receive, to
interpret, and then to use the gifts He will yet
give in answer to prayer and in fulfilment of His
word.
I constantly see tourist visitors to London rushing
about from Park to Palace, doing what they call the
"sights". And after a fevered week they go back home
thinking they know London. But do they? One of
Ruskin's students once said to him, on returning
from a first Italian visit: "Sir, immediately I
entered the Gallery at Florence, I knew in a moment
what you had always impressed upon us as the
supremacy of Botticelli." Ruskin's reply was,
somewhat cutting. He said: "Oh, you found that out
in a moment? Well, it took me twenty-two years to
discover it!" And there are a great many people who
think they know God in the light of a single
experience! We are kept waiting upon Him that we may
become of the number of those who really do know
their God, and who consequently are empowered to do
exploits. God is making us; do not let us be
impatient under the process. God is making us; do
not let impatience and impetuosity take us,
therefore, from under the hand of the Master
Workman. He is eliminating the flaws, and remaking
the marred vessels. The two qualities which we need
most - endurance and radiance - are not imparted to
any man in a single hour. God keeps us waiting that
in His presence, beholding His glory, we may be
changed into the same image from glory unto glory.
The second thing I want to say is this. Many of our
prayers must be passed through the refining medium
of God's wisdom, that is, of God's love, many of
them must be edited by God before they are answered.
For well-intentioned prayer is not always
well-informed. Like those who made requests of the
Saviour, God often has to say to His children, "Ye
know not what ye ask". If some of our prayers were
immediately answered, the consequence would be
almost certain moral and spiritual disaster. Our
prayers have to be passed I say, through the
refining medium of God's wisdom, sometimes with
regard to their motive. "Ye have not because ye ask
amiss." There are men and women, for instance, who
pray for power while their real objective is
pre-eminence. What they really mean by power is that
which will make them prominent in His service. When
our motives are altogether unworthy of the words we
express, we have to be kept waiting until God turns
upon us the searchlight of His love, and learning
the untrustworthiness of our own impulses, we yield
us to that gracious Spirit who makes intercession in
us according to the will of God.
Not only in regard to the MOTIVE, but in
regard also to the content of our prayers, Christ
has to say again and again, "Can ye drink of the cup
that I drink of; are ye able to be baptized with the
baptism wherewith I am baptized?" For often we know
not what we ask, and hence God's delay in response.
I have seen children - we have all seen them - who
have been utterly spoiled by the weak good-nature of
parents who gave them at once everything they
wanted. For human love may be entirely lacking in
wisdom. But the love and wisdom of God are one. When
He keeps us waiting for secondary mercies, it is in
order to make us know the value of the primary and
spiritual. We have to learn that God's "No" is just
as much an answer as God's "Yes". We have to learn
that God's "Not yet" is just as truly an expression
of Divine love as God's "Immediately". The day will
come to every one of us when we shall know that
God's silence was in reality His most loving speech
to us. For we shall see that while seemingly
inactive God has all the time been working in us,
bringing us into moral correspondence with His will,
which alone capacitates men to receive His gifts.
Well do I recollect, some years ago, in the city of
Dublin, a man coming into the vestry-room of a
church and saying: "Sir, I want to thank you for
that message about God's love. I believe every word
of it now, but I did not six months ago." His eyes
filled with tears; and as I said: "What does it
mean, my brother?" He went on: "Six months ago my
home was bright and happy, and the shadow fell. I
prayed earnestly that God would save my wife and our
infant. But He took them; and I have come to know
that He took them only in order to bring me back to
Himself, from whom I had wandered." God's silence in
that man's life was His richest and kindest speech.
And others of us have found this to be true also;
and more of us will find it so ere these dark days
in which we live have passed away.
The things we try to get rid of by prayer are often
the very things we can least afford to lose. Some of
those things we call burdens, of which we try to get
rid in the Sanctuary, are the things that God has
placed upon us for the steadying of life and the
guiding of our energies into channels which
otherwise we should overlook and miss. Paul learnt
that there was something infinitely better than the
removal of the thorn-pain - infinitely better!
Thrice he besought the Lord to remove it - with what
interval between those prayers we know not. But
surely Paul, like the rest of us, was perplexed at
God's delay. And he ultimately found that God was
preparing something far better than the extraction
of the thing which caused a throbbing wound - "My
grace is sufficient for thee." If he had not had the
thorn-pain, like the nightingale which is said to
sing sweetest when its breast is pierced, he had
never learned the song: "Most gladly will I glory in
my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest
upon me!" We learn, as we are kept waiting at His
feet, that the cord which we would have had God cut,
He disentangles, and so saves for purposes of His
service. God's ways are always justified of His
children, if they will patiently tarry His leisure.
Ere I pass on to the third and last suggestion I
have to make, may I say that surely we get an
illustration of all this in the burden of prayer
which is increasingly descending upon us for our
nation. There are not a few of us who are perplexed
that God has not already intervened to stay this
terrible conflict. We look out from this place of
quiet rest, and see across the Channel the sons of
God being butchered upon the fields of France and
Belgium; and we cry to God to give victory to the
cause which is inherently right, and about which we
have no shame. Yet He does not do so. After a whole
year, and despite the sacrifice of thousands of
precious lives, the battle-line is drawn
substantially as it was at first. Why does God not
put forth His power through our Forces, and by
scattering the nations that delight in war bring
this unspeakable strife to an end? Why have we no
answer back from Heaven that our cry is heard? Why
does He delay His coming when by one word He could
end the whole conflict? Ah! it is not that God
cannot, nor that He will not; but that an immediate
victory for our land might only mean a revival, in
the basest form, of our national sins. As a nation
we are far from being morally ready for victory, for
there are few signs in our common life that we have
learned and taken to heart the lessons of this
chastisement. That is why God is keeping our nation
waiting. We have to be brought infinitely lower yet.
We have to learn yet what the law of God stands for.
We have to learn yet what the hideousness of sin in
a man or nation means. We have to learn that sin
brings pain and bloodshedding to man, as it brought
pain and bloodshedding to God. Then when the nation
is morally prepared and renewed I believe that
victory will not be delayed by an hour. But it will
not come one hour sooner. Hence the necessity of our
quietly waiting for the salvation of God. Though
remember, in the last analysis, it is not He who
delays the answer to our prayer for victory. It is
we who delay Him.* (*[footnote] Spoken in 1915
during World War I.)
The third thing I want to say is this. Faith can
only be trained by being tested. As a man's muscles
are only hardened by exercise, so his faith only
becomes strong and ultimately invincible by being
subjected to the discipline of strain. For until it
accepts the will of God, not under compulsion, nor
because there is no alternative, but by free choice
and glad surrender, faith is lacking in essential
quality. But when we are unmoved by the fact that we
are kept waiting, calmly conscious that God's glory
is intimately bound up with our lives and prayers,
and content that if He can afford to wait, so too
can we, one of life's greatest lessons has been
learnt. For faith reaches its triumph only when its
exercise ceases to be a deliberate activity and
becomes an instinctive attitude.
Sometimes we learn this by our own impetuous efforts
to hurry God. There are two conspicuous examples of
this. Do you remember Moses and his undisciplined
effort at the deliverance of his people? How
disastrously it ended for him! God had to take him
into the schoolhouse of the desert and keep him
there for many a weary year. By his impetuosity he
had embarrassed God; and so, too, do many of us. Do
you remember Abraham with a wonderful promise to
support him, with a vision so great that it
staggered him, attempting to expedite God's purpose?
You know the dark story of Hagar and Ishmael, and
all that it afterward led to. Sometimes God likewise
delays the promises of His faithfulness in order
that we too may learn the utter futility of our
every effort, and all the sweat of our souls, apart
from Him. For remember that the faith of God must be
vindicated in us before it can be verified through
us, and before we can be His effective messengers to
the world.
One last word. There is nothing in common between
quiet waiting upon God and lethargic indolence. We
have known those who excuse their non-participation
in the enterprises of Christ's Church because of
this necessity of quiet waiting on God. Let me say
that there is no greater mistake than to wait for
subjective manifestations and to neglect objective
opportunities. True waiting upon God expresses
itself in the expenditure of every energy of the
soul at the clear directions for whose
interpretation we do not need to wait an hour. Oh,
the supine folly of the man who in these days of
tremendous opportunity is content to "wait upon God"
to open doors, to "wait upon God" to enlarge
opportunities, to "wait upon God" to organise
success and influence for him, while he himself does
nothing in the way of sacrifice - of giving himself,
of losing his life, for the Kingdom's sake! God does
not co-operate with dreamers. We cannot live in
fellowship with God and let evil stalk unchallenged,
by neglecting the wide-open doors of the world which
call to our faith and our loyalty.
I cannot forget that God did once say to His people:
"Stand still, and see the salvation of God." But I
also remember that that word was given to men and
women, a great host, who were walking in implicit
obedience to His leadership, and who in that pathway
had come up against the impassable. There are times
in life when God says these words to us, but only
when, like Israel, we are walking in the light of
His will.
"We are not here to play, to dream, to drift;
We have hard work to do, and loads to lift;
Shun not the struggle! face it! 'Tis God's gift.
Say not,
'The days are evil! Who's to blame?'
And fold the hands, and acquiesce - oh, shame!
Stand up, speak out, act bravely in God's Name.
It
matters not how deep entrenched the wrong,
How hard the battle goes, the day how long;
Fight on! fight on! tomorrow comes the song!"
As we wait upon God in this energy of
implicit obedience to Him, He will vindicate all His
delays. He will do it as we stand, like men who wait
for their Lord, doing His will to the very utmost of
our power, knowing that when He comes He will
perfect that which concerns us; pushing the battle
to the gate, in the confidence that at the strategic
moment He will bring up reinforcements which shall
mean the final factor in victory, quietly hoping for
that we see not; saying to our souls again, and yet
again, "We see not yet all things put under Him, we
see not yet the fulfilment of our every desire; but
we see Jesus crowned. Blessed be His Name for ever!"
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