Thoughts on Religious
Experience
Archibald Alexander, 1844
The rich and the
poor—The various trials of believers
They are not 'the happy' whom the blinded world think to
be such. The man of successful enterprise and increasing wealth had some
enjoyment while busily occupied in making a fortune—but now when he has
arrived at a higher pitch of wealth than his most expectant hopes had
anticipated—he is far from being happy, or even contented. The desire of
acquisition has grown into an inveterate habit, and he cannot stop in his
career; he must find out some new enterprise; he must engage in some new
speculation; and before all is over, it is well if he loses not all he had
gained. Being accustomed to live high, he is unprepared to meet poverty; and
to preserve his family from such a mortifying change of circumstances, he
contrives ways and means to defraud his creditors. This man is not happy in
his prosperity, and under a reverse of fortune he is truly miserable. He has
put away a good conscience, which is the most essential ingredient in that
peace which Christ gives to His disciples. His reputation too, if not
tarnished, remains under a dark cloud of suspicion which never can be
removed. In the world around he meets with neglect and sometimes contempt
from those on whom he once looked down; at home he has before him the sad
spectacle of a family degraded from their former rank and under all the
feelings of mortified pride, struggling to conceal their poverty from the
gaze and contempt of an unpitying world.
But even if no reverse is experienced and the man
continues to be successful in all his enterprises, and if at the close of
his career he can calculate millions in the bank or in real estate, his only
remaining difficulty is how to dispose of such a mass of wealth. He has a
son, it is true—but he is a base profligate, and in a single year would, by
reckless speculation or at the gaming table, dissipate the whole which has
been so carefully hoarded up. And yet this man could scarcely be induced to
give a dollar to any benevolent object, lest he should lessen the amount
which he was by every means raking together for this unworthy son. He has
daughters, too, whose husbands in selecting them had more respect to their
fortunes than to any personal qualifications, and these are impatient that
the old man should live so long, and hold the purse-strings with so close a
grip. Though they will go through all the ceremonial of deep grief, and
mourn as decently and as long as fashion requires, yet no event is heard
with more heart-felt pleasure than that their aged relative is at last
obliged to give up all his possessions!
Are the rich happy? Not such as have been described. But
there are a favored few who seem to have learned the secret of using wealth
so as to do much good, and to derive from it much enjoyment. They are
desirous of making increase too—but it is all for the Lord; not to be
hoarded until they are obliged to leave it, and then to be distributed among
benevolent societies. No! They are continually contriving methods of making
it produce good—now. They are frugal to themselves, that they may be liberal
to the poor, and may be able to enrich the treasury of the Lord. Such men
are blessed in their deed; and though unostentatious in their charities,
their light cannot be hidden. A few rich men of this description have lived
in England, and even our new country records with gratitude the names of a
few benefactors of the public; and we trust in God that the number will be
multiplied. Reader, go and do likewise.
But, more commonly, the elect of God are not called to
glorify Him in this way. Wealth is a dangerous talent, and is very
apt so to block up the way to heaven, that those who do press in, have, as
it were, to squeeze through a gate as difficult of entrance as the eye of a
needle to a camel. Alas! many professors who bid fair for heaven when in
moderate circumstances, after becoming rich are found "drowned in
perdition"—"pierced through with many sorrows". (1 Tim 6:9-10)
Poverty and suffering are by infinite wisdom judged best
for the traveler to Zion. Let the Lord's people be contented with their
condition, and thankful that they are preserved from snares and temptations
which they would have found it difficult to withstand. God will not allow
them to be tempted above what they are able to bear—but with the temptation
provides a way for their escape.
The rich are exposed to suffering as well as the poor,
though their sufferings may be of a different kind. The poor man may be
forced by necessity to live on coarse bread; the rich man also, while
tantalized with the daily sight of the finest of the wheat, is obliged for
the sake of his health to live upon bran. The poor man lies on a hard bed
because he can afford to get no better; the rich man lies as hard to
preserve himself from the aches and pains which are the natural fruit of
luxury. The poor man has little of the honors of the world—but then he is
envied by none, and passes along in obscurity, without being set up as a
mark to be shot at by envy and malignity, which is often the lot of the
rich. When sickness comes, the rich man has some advantages—but when
oppressed with painful sickness, neither a bed of down, nor rich hangings
and carpets, contribute anything to his relief; and in such a time of
distress the privations of the poor, though the imagination readily
magnifies them, add not much to the pain produced by disease.
But we have dwelt too long on this comparison between the
real sufferings of the rich and the poor. Happiness after all, depends upon
the submission and patient temper of the mind, than upon external
circumstances. And indeed, so short is the time of man's continuance upon
earth, and so infinite the joys or miseries of the future world, that to
make much of these little differences would be like estimating the weight of
a feather, when engaged in weighing mountains. Who thinks it a matter of any
concern, whether the circumstances of people who lived a thousand years ago
were affluent or destitute, except so far as these external enjoyments and
privations contributed to their spiritual improvement, or the contrary? If
we could be duly impressed with the truths which respect our eternal
condition, we would consider our afflictions here on earth, as scarcely
worthy of being named. Thus the apostle Paul seemed to view his own
sufferings, and those of his fellow Christians, when he said, "For I reckon
that the sufferings of this present time, are not worthy to be compared with
the glory which shall be revealed in us." (Rom 8:18) Compared with the
sufferings of others, those of the apostle were neither few nor small; but
in the view of eternity by faith, he calls them "these light
afflictions which are but for a moment"; (2 Cor 4:17) and he had
learned the happy are, not only of being contented in whatever state he
was—but of rejoicing in all his tribulations. Not that tribulation,
considered in itself, could be a matter of rejoicing, for who ever found
pain and reproach to be pleasant? But he rejoiced in these things on account
of their beneficial effects, "but we also rejoice in our afflictions,
because we know that affliction produces endurance, endurance produces
proven character, and proven character produces hope." (Rom 5:3-4) The
primitive Christians were encouraged to bear patiently and joyfully their
present sufferings, on account of the rich and gracious reward which awaited
them in the world to come. Upon the mere principle of contrast, our earthly
sorrows will render our heavenly joys the sweeter.
But this is not all: hear the words of Jesus Himself,
"Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is
the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when men shall revile you, and
persecute you, and say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake:
rejoice and be exceeding glad, for great is your reward in heaven." (Matt
5:10-12) Peter also testifies, "and if you suffer for righteousness' sake,
happy are you" (1 Pet 3:14)—"for it is better, if the will of God be so,
that you suffer for well doing than for evil doing. For Christ once
suffered, the just for the unjust." (1 Pet 3:17-18) He was also of the same
opinion with his brother Paul, that Christians ought to rejoice in all their
sufferings for righteousness' sake. "Beloved," says he, "do not be surprised
at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were
happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of
Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed. If you are
insulted because of the name of Christ, you are blessed, for the Spirit of
glory and of God rests on you." (1 Pet 4:12-14) "However, if you suffer as a
Christian, do not be ashamed, but praise God that you bear that name." (1
Pet 4:16)
Let Zion's mourners lift up their heads and rejoice, for
though weeping may endure for a night, joy comes in the morning! Let all
Christians manifest to others the sweetness and excellency of piety by
rejoicing continually in the Lord. The perennial sources of their spiritual
joy can never fail—for while God lives and reigns they ought to rejoice.
Since Christ has died, and ever lives to make intercession for them, they
have ground of unceasing joy. While the throne of grace is accessible, let
the saints rejoice; let them rejoice in all the promises of God, which are
exceeding great and precious, and are all yes and amen in Christ Jesus to
the glory of God.
In one sense all our sufferings are the fruits of sin—for
if we had never sinned we would never have suffered. But in another sense,
the sufferings of believers are produced by love: "whom the Lord loves he
chastens, and scourges every son whom he receives". (Heb 12:6) As in the
economy of salvation, God leaves His chosen people to struggle with the
remainders of sin in their own hearts, so He has ordained, that their
pilgrimage to the heavenly Canaan shall be through much tribulation. From
the beginning, the saints have generally been a poor and afflicted people,
often oppressed and persecuted; and when exempt from sufferings from the
hands of men, they are often visited with sickness, or have their hearts
sorely lacerated by the bereavement of dear friends, are punished with
poverty, or loaded with calumny and reproach. There seems to be an
incongruity in believers enjoying ease and prosperity in this world, when
their Lord was "a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief". (Isa 53:3)
It seems, indeed, to be a condition of our reigning with Him, that we should
suffer with Him. When James and John, under the influence of ambition, asked
for the highest places in His kingdom, He said to them, "Can you drink of
the cup which I drink of, and be baptized with the baptism that I am
baptized with?" (Mark 10:38) They seem not to have understood His meaning,
for with self-confidence they answered, "We are able." (Matt 20:22) He
replied, "You shall indeed drink of the cup that I drink of, and be baptized
with the baptism that I am baptized with." (Mark 10:39)
For the Christian to seek great things for himself here
in this world, does not befit the character of a disciple of the meek and
lowly Jesus. The early Christians were called to endure much
persecution—but they did not count their lives dear unto them. When the
apostles, after our Lord's ascension, were publicly beaten for preaching
that the Savior was risen, they rejoiced together that they were counted
worthy to suffer such things for His name's sake.
It is a striking peculiarity in the religion of Christ,
that in the conditions of discipleship, "taking up the cross" (Matt 16:24;
Mark 8:34; Luke 9:23) is the first thing. He never enticed any to follow Him
with the promise of earthly prosperity, or exemption from suffering. On the
contrary, He assures them that in the world they shall have tribulation.
(John 16:33) He does, indeed, promise to those who forsake father and
mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, houses and lands—a
compensation of a hundredfold more than they had left; but He permits them
not to fall into the delusion that this hundredfold was to consist in
earthly good things, for He immediately adds, "with persecutions". (Mark
10:30) Whoever will not take Christ with His cross shall never sit with
Him on His throne. "No cross, no crown", holds out an important truth in few
words. In his intercessory prayer, Christ does request for His disciples
that they may be kept from the evil which is in the world, (John 17:15) but
He means from the "evil one"—from the evil of sin, and from temptations
above their strength to endure.
The reasons why Christ has chosen that His people should
be afflicted, and often sorely persecuted, are not difficult to ascertain.
We have already shown that the rod is one of God's means for recovering
backsliders from their wanderings; but afflictions are also employed to
prevent Christians from backsliding. In prosperity, pride is apt to
rise and swell; carnal security blinds their eyes; the love of riches
increases; spiritual affections are feeble; and eternal things are viewed as
far off, and concealed by a thick mist. These circumstances are, indeed, the
common precursors of backsliding; but to prevent this evil, and to stir up
the benumbed feelings of piety, the believer is put into the furnace. At
first he finds it hard to submit, and is like a wild bull in a net. His
pride and his love of carnal ease resist the hand that smites him; but
severe pain awakes him from his spiritual sleep. He finds himself in the
hands of his heavenly Father, and sees that nothing can be gained by
murmuring or rebelling. His sins rise up to view, and he is convinced of the
justice of the divine dispensations. His hard heart begins to yield, and he
is stirred up to cry mightily to God for helping grace. Although he wishes
and prays for deliverance from the pressure of affliction, yet he is more
solicitous that it should be rendered effectual to subdue his pride, wean
him from the love of the world, and give perfect exercise to patience and
resignation, than that it should be removed. He knows that the furnace is
the place for purification. He hopes and prays that his dross may be
consumed, and that he may come forth as gold which has passed seven times
through the refiner's fire.
Paul attributes a powerful efficacy to afflictions, so as
to place them among the most efficacious means of grace. "For," says
he, "our light affliction, which is but for a moment, works out for us a far
more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." (2 Cor 4:17) "Furthermore, we
had natural fathers discipline us, and we respected them. Shouldn’t we
submit even more to the Father of spirits and live? For they disciplined us
for a short time based on what seemed good to them, but He does it for our
benefit, so that we can share His holiness. No discipline seems enjoyable at
the time, but painful. Later on, however, it yields the fruit of peace and
righteousness to those who have been trained by it." (Heb 12:9-11) When
faith is in very lively exercise, believers can rejoice even in tribulation.
Not that they cease to feel the pain of the rod—for then it would cease
to be an affliction—but while they experience the smart they are convinced
that it is operating as a beneficial, though bitter medicine; and they
rejoice in the prospect or feeling of returning spiritual health.
But again, God does not pour the rich consolations of His
grace into a heart that is not broken. "He sends the rich empty away." (Luke
1:53) "The whole need not a physician." (Matt 9:12; Luke 5:31) But when by
affliction He has broken the hard heart and emptied it of self-confidence,
He delights to pour in the joy of the Holy Spirit. Therefore it often occurs
that the believer's most joyful seasons are his suffering seasons. He has,
it is true, more pungent pain than when in prosperity and ease—but he has
also richer, deeper draughts of consolation. Though sorrow and joy are
opposite, there is a mysterious connection between them. Sorrow, as it were,
softens and prepares the heart for the reception of the joy of the Lord.
As the dispensations of God towards His children are
exceedingly diverse in different ages; likewise His dealings with individual
believers who live at the same time are very different. Why it is so we
cannot tell; but we are sure that He has wise reasons for all that He does.
In some cases pious people appear to pass through life with scarcely a touch
from His rod; while others, who to us do not appear to need more
chastisement than those, are held the greater part of their life under the
heavy pressure of affliction, with scarcely any intermission. Here is a
Christian man who has nearly reached the usual termination of human life,
and has hardly known what external affliction is in his own experience.
Prosperity has attended him through his whole course. But there is a
desolate widow who has been bereaved of her husband and children, and has
neither brother nor sister, nephew nor niece, and for eight years has been
confined to her bed by wasting and painful disease, and has no hope of
relief on this side of the grave.
Such a disparity is striking; but we see only the outside
of things. There are sore afflictions of the mind, while the body is in
health. That man may have had severer chastisement of the mind—than this
afflicted, desolate widow. I have heard an aged Christian declare that
though he had experienced much sickness, lost many dear friends, and met
with many sore disappointments in life, his sufferings on these accounts
were not to be compared with the internal anguish which he often endured,
and of which no creature had the least conception. This shows that we are
not competent to form an accurate judgment of the sufferings of different
people. Besides, when affliction has been long continued, we become in a
measure accustomed to it and, as it were, hardened against it; but when we
judge of such cases, we transfer our own acute feelings to the condition,
which are no correct standard of the sufferings, of the patient under a
lingering disease.
The widow to whom I referred was not a fictitious
person—but a real person. I once visited her and conversed with her and
found her serene and happy, desiring nothing but a speedy departure, that
she might be absent from the body, and present with the Lord. But she was
not impatient; she was willing to remain and suffer just as long as God
pleased. Her heart was truly subdued to the obedience of Christ. There was
only one earthly object for which she seemed to feel solicitude, and that
was the little forsaken and almost desolate church of which she was a
member. For a series of years disaster after disaster had fallen upon this
little flock. Their house of worship had been accidentally burned, and was
in need of repair; and they had been so long without a pastor that they
dwindled down to a few disheartened and scattered members, and only one aged
elder remained. Seldom was there a sermon, as they had no convenient house
of meeting. Now although this poor widow could not have attended if there
had been preaching every Lord's day, yet that little church lay as a burden
on her mind; and I heard a minister who knew the circumstances say, that as
once a poor wise man saved a city, so this poor, pious widow by her prayers
saved a church from extinction. For before her death, a neat, new church was
erected, and a pastor settled, and a number of souls hopefully converted and
gathered into the church.
I was once on a visit with a friend who requested me to
accompany her to see a sick woman, supposed to be near her end. The house
was a mere wreck of a once comfortable dwelling. Every appearance of comfort
was absent. The partitions appeared to have been taken down, and the whole
house was turned into one large room. There was no glass in the windows.
Upon entering this desolate place, I saw the sick woman lying on a miserable
bed, unable to raise her head from the pillow, and attended only by an aged
mother over eighty years of age, and a little daughter about seven or eight.
I was told that her brutal husband generally came home drunk, and never gave
her a kind or soothing word. Here, indeed, seemed to be the very picture of
wretchedness. Hear the conclusion. I truly thought before I left the
house--that this was the happiest woman I ever saw! Her devout and tender
eye was sweetly fixed on heaven. Her countenance was serene, and illumined
with a heavenly smile. "Let me die the death of the righteous—and may my end
be like theirs!" Numbers 23:10