THE GOD OF COMFORT
    
    "THE GOD WHO COMFORTS US. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can 
    comfort others. When others are troubled, we will be able to give them the 
    same comfort God has given us." 2 Cor. 1:3-4 
    
    How soothingly fall these words upon the ear of the sorrowful, sweeter and 
    more powerful than angel-chimes floating from the celestial hills! What 
    grief-smitten heart, bending in tears over them, is not conscious of a power 
    and a charm, at once the evidence of their divinity and the pledge of their 
    truth. The religion of Jesus possesses in the experience of its disciples 
    this remarkable characteristic; there is more true holiness in the heart's 
    thirst for sanctification, and more solid happiness in a passing thought of 
    God, and more real life in one believing look at the Savior, and more 
    perfect repose in one single promise of God's Word, and more of the reality 
    of heaven in a glance within the veil, than this world could ever give, or 
    its religion inspire. Empty, were it possible, the whole world into the 
    soul, and still the worldling's inquiry would be, "Who will show me any 
    good?" Thus confirming the truth of God's Word, "In the midst of plenty, he 
    will run into trouble, and disasters will destroy him." But let one devout, 
    holy, loving thought of God in Christ enter that soul, and its satisfaction 
    is full, its happiness complete.
    
    Such, in a measure, we believe will be the effect of these words of the 
    apostle placed at the head of this chapter. What child of affliction and of 
    sadness scanning them will not feel that, desperate as is his case, and 
    profound as is his grief, hope springs in his breast that yet there may be 
    comfort even for him! You have, perhaps, given yourself to inconsolable 
    grief, "refusing to be comforted." You have thought that even the 
    consolation of God could not fathom your sorrow, and that your wound must 
    bleed unstaunched, and your sore must run unhealed. But these wondrous words 
    have met your eye- "The God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our 
    tribulation," and lo! a gleam of hope suddenly falls upon your spirit, and 
    for the first time since your calamity you begin to think that, God has not 
    entirely forsaken you; that, though He kills, yet He makes alive; that, 
    though He wounds, yet He heals; and that, though He brings low, yet He 
    raises up again. If, then, these words, dimly read with tears, prove so 
    soothing and assuring, may we not hope that, as the Spirit, the Divine 
    Paraclete, unfolds them in these pages, they may prove to your sad spirit as 
    the breaking forth of waters in the parched desert, "satiating the weary and 
    replenishing the sorrowful soul."
    
    The first thought that suggests itself to the reflecting mind will be the 
    necessity that existed for this revelation of God as the "God of all 
    comfort." There is nothing unmeaning or superfluous in the relations which 
    God sustains to His Church. Each unfolding of His character, and each 
    perfection of His being, points to some relation or need of His people. 
    When, therefore, God is revealed as the "God of all comfort," as "God who 
    comforts those that are cast down," and when also we find Him commanding His 
    servants the prophets to comfort His people, to what conclusion can we come 
    but that His Church is an afflicted Church, His people a tried and sorrowful 
    people, standing in need of that comfort which He only could impart?- in a 
    word, that there exists a peculiar condition of His Church answering to this 
    special relation of God to them as the "God of all comfort " To this thought 
    let us briefly address ourselves.
    
    There is no fact in the history of God's people more strongly confirmed by 
    their individual experience than that, He has "chosen them in the furnace of 
    affliction." Like the burning bush which Moses saw, God's Church has ever 
    been in the furnace, and yet, like that bush, it has never been consumed. 
    Many and great are the blessings which accrue to the Church of God from this 
    divine arrangement. Not the least one is, the more perfect interpretation of 
    the Bible which this school of God imparts. Affliction places the believer 
    in a position for understanding the Scriptures which no other divine 
    dispensation does. Luther remarks that he did not understand the Psalms 
    until God afflicted him. How many will find in the volume of their Christian 
    experience a page corresponding with this! How apocryphal– sealed, shut up, 
    and mystical– is much of God's Word until read in the ashen glow of the 
    furnace! Until then the sunshine of prosperity shone brightly upon them, and 
    parts only of God's Word were read and studied. But adversity has come! The 
    light on your path has faded into the shadow of sorrow, and sorrow has 
    deepened into the darkness of despondency, and gloom envelops the entire 
    scene of your life. And now how new and precious has God's Word become! 
    Affliction has driven you to the Scriptures, and the Scriptures have 
    revealed to you Christ, and Christ has brought you near to God, and the God 
    of all consolation has soothed your mind, "through the patience and comfort 
    of the Scriptures."
    
    God will have His saints experimentally acquainted with His truth, and with 
    Christ, who is the truth. A mere theoretical Christian, a notional 
    religionist, is of little worth. We need a religion upon which we can live 
    holily, and upon which we can die happily. This can only be attained in a 
    personal acquaintance with Christ and His Gospel. All God's children are 
    taught of God, all in the same school, the same truths, and by the same 
    Divine Teacher, and thus "He fashions their hearts alike." Oh, count the 
    faith that touches with its experimental hand but the fringe of the Savior's 
    robe more precious than "the faith which moves mountains," but is nothing 
    more than an intellectual acquaintance with the truth. If, then, this 
    experimental acquaintance with the Bible is the result of affliction, 
    welcome the discipline whose rod of correction blossoms into such golden 
    fruit as this. What an evidence have we here of the divinity of the Bible, 
    in its adaptation to all the trials and afflictions of God's saints, as to 
    all the shades of Christian character and experience! Of what other book 
    could this be said! Accept with gratitude every evidence that confirms your 
    faith in the divinity of God's Word.
    
    But we return to the truth that God's people are an afflicted people, and 
    need comfort, and hence the revelation of God as the "God of all comfort." 
    We too much forget that there is a moral fitness for heaven as well as a 
    legal title to its possession; the one, the internal holiness wrought in our 
    hearts by the Spirit; the other, the outward justification of our persons 
    through the imputed righteousness of Christ. An heir to an estate may 
    possess the right, but not the fitness for its possession. There may be no 
    flaw in his title, but there may exist a mental or a physical incapacity in 
    his person for its enjoyment. Now, with regard to the heirs of the heavenly 
    inheritance, the title- the obedience and death of Christ- is perfect; no 
    possible flaw in the deed invalidating the legality of their claim. But, in 
    their present partially renewed and imperfectly sanctified state, they are 
    not in a fit condition to enter upon its immediate and full possession. 
    
    There must be a moral fitness for heaven. Heaven is a holy place, and is the 
    dwelling of the holy. Where Jehovah dwells, must be holy, and all who dwell 
    with Him are holy for "without holiness no man can see the Lord." Viewed in 
    this light, how indispensable appears the afflictive dispensation of God's 
    people. It is sometimes difficult at the moment to see how any possible good 
    can ever result from such an evil, or how sweet can ever distill from such a 
    bitter, or how "God's bow made quite naked" can ever bear upon its arrows- 
    feathered, it may be, from our nest of down- blessings so costly and 
    precious; yet, though the "chastening for the present seems not joyous, but 
    grievous, nevertheless, afterward it yields the peaceable fruit of 
    righteousness unto those who are exercised thereby." 
    
    And thus, clearer than the noontide sun, we see the wisdom and rectitude, 
    the faithfulness and love, of our Heavenly Father in all the way He leads us 
    through the thorn-bush, across the desert, home to Himself. Oh, to be as a 
    weaned child– quiet and silent! or, if we speak, only to exclaim, "It is the 
    Lord; let Him do as seems Him good."
    
    There is a passage of God's Word bearing so directly on this subject, we may 
    venture to offer upon it a passing comment. "Beloved, think it not strange 
    concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing 
    happened unto you." We have in this passage the character of those trials to 
    which God's people are sometimes subjected. It is a "fiery trial." The same 
    word, in the original is rendered, in the 8th chapter of Revelation, 
    "burning;" and the emblem is suggestive of the following ideas– 
    
    First, intense severity. God, addressing His Church of old, says, "When you 
    walk through the fire, you shall not be burned, neither shall the flame 
    kindle upon you." And the apostle Peter, employing the same emblem, thus 
    speaks of the severity of faith's trial- "The trial of your faith being much 
    more precious than gold that perishes, though it be tried with fire." Oh, 
    how severe may our trials be! Think of David, tried by the treason of 
    Absalom; of Eli, by the iniquity of his sons; of Abraham, in the surrender 
    of the heir of promise; of Job, involving, as in one conflagration, 
    children, possessions, health. And thus might we travel down through the 
    different ages of the Church, and we shall find that the history of one 
    believer, of one dispensation, and of one age, has been more or less that of 
    all- "The fiery trial which is to try you." 
    
    Beloved, there is one modification of this severity of trial; there is not 
    one spark of hell in it. There may be fire, but it is not the fire of the 
    bottomless pit. There may be displeasure, but there is no wrath; discipline, 
    but no condemnation. Oh, blessed thought! You pass through the fire, but you 
    are not burned. Like the three children of Israel cast into the burning 
    fiery furnace, you emerge from the sheets of flame with not even the smell 
    of fire upon your garments. He who walked through the fire side by side with 
    Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, has been with you in the afflictive 
    dispensation, has trod side by side the fiery trial through which God was 
    conducting you home to Himself, and you have emerged from it unhurt.
    
    Our trials are not only often severe, but like fire, they are always 
    searching. The Lord sends them for this end. They search our hearts through 
    and through. They analyze, separate, and sift. They bring out the innate 
    evil of our nature; reveal and expose to our view the hidden and unknown 
    corruptions and subtlety of our hearts. Oh, how much sin, concealed and 
    unsuspected, they bring to light! What evil mixed with good in our 
    principles, motives, and aims, they expose, separate, and destroy! They lead 
    us, too, to an honest turning-over the page of conscience, to a deep probing 
    of heart, and examination of our state as to our real conversion, our true 
    standing before God, and the holiness, uprightness, and integrity of our 
    walk and conversation in the world. 
    
    One fiery trial, sanctified by the grace of the Holy Spirit, has done more 
    to break up the crusted ground of the heart, to penetrate beneath the 
    surface, to dissect, and winnow, and separate, than a life-time of reading 
    and hearing could have done. Oh, what secret sins have been detected, what 
    carelessness of walk has been revealed, what spiritual and unsuspected 
    declension of soul has been discovered, all leading to deep self-loathing, 
    and to the laying the mouth in the dust before God! Then has the prayer gone 
    up with an agony and sincerity never experienced before, "Search me, O God, 
    and try me, and know any heart, and see if there be any evil way in me, and 
    lead me in the way everlasting." And all this the fruit of one hallowed 
    trial!
    
    We may refer to the PURIFYING power of a fiery trial as not the least 
    blessed result of the discipline. It is the nature of fire to purify. God so 
    employs the image. "I will bring the third part through the fire, and will 
    refine them as silver is refined, and will by them as gold is tried." "He 
    shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver; and He shall purify the sins 
    of Levi, and purify them as gold and silver, that they may offer unto the 
    Lord an offering in righteousness." Blessed and holy fruit of trial! Who now 
    will shrink from the process? who would wish exemption from the fire that 
    but consumes the dross and the tin and the earth of the soul, making the 
    silver so bright and the gold so pure, both reflecting, as they never 
    reflected before, the nature and image of the Divine and lovely Refiner? And 
    when we see the man of God thus emerge from the furnace of affliction, we 
    lift our hearts in thanksgiving and praise to our Heavenly Father for 
    providing in the covenant of grace a discipline so effectual in the 
    accomplishment of results so blessed. "By this, therefore, shall the 
    iniquity of Jacob be purged: and this is all the fruit to take away sins."
    
    
    Blessed Lord, if this be the result of Your fiery trial; if it be to burn up 
    and consume the self and carnality, the worldliness and unbelief of my 
    heart, if it be to destroy the alloy and to scatter the chaff, then let the 
    fire burn, let the furnace glow. May I, by this burning discipline, but be 
    made more thoroughly a partaker of Your holiness.
    
    "Often the clouds of deepest woe 
    So sweet a message bear,
    Dark though they seem, 'twere hard to find 
    A frown of anger there.
    It needs our hearts be weaned from earth, 
    It needs that we be driven,
    By loss of every earthly tie, 
    To seek our joys in heaven.
    And what is sorrow, what is pain, 
    To that parental care,
    That breaks the conscious heart from sin, 
    When sin is hated there?
    Kind, loving is the hand that strikes, 
    However keen the smart,
    If sorrow's discipline can chase 
    One evil from the heart."
    
    The apostle then proceeds in this passage to remind us that trial is no 
    strange thing in the experience of the saints. "Beloved, think it not 
    strange concerning the fiery trial that is to try you, as though some 
    strange thing happened unto you." Yes, trial is not a strange thing. Common 
    to all, it is yet more common in the history of God's people. There are many 
    reasons why trial should not be considered by us as a strange thing. One is 
    given in the passage under consideration- "The trial that is to try you." 
    Trial is necessary to promote fruitfulness, to test our hope, and to 
    eliminate in the kingdom of God within us the precious from the vile, the 
    purity of Divine grace from the corruption of fallen nature. 
    
    Nor should we regard trial and affliction as a strange thing, since it is 
    the appointed and beaten path of all the saints who have either safely 
    arrived, or are wending their pilgrim way home to God. "If God doesn't 
    discipline you as he does all of his children, it means that you are 
    illegitimate and are not really his children after all." And again, the 
    apostle Peter says, "Knowing that the same afflictions are accomplished in 
    your brethren that are in the world." 
    
    No, more. Trial is not a strange thing, since our blessed Lord Himself was 
    "a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief." Significant and instructive 
    words! None were ever so intimate with sorrow, or so closely acquainted with 
    grief as Jesus. He was acquainted with it in its every form, met it in its 
    every aggravation, and tasted it in its every bitter. Standing between the 
    wrath of God and the hatred of man, and enduring both to its utmost strength 
    and extremity, truly never was one so acquainted with grief as Jesus was. 
    Think it not, then, beloved, strange concerning the fiery trial that is to 
    try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you, since the members 
    must be conformed to the Head, and the flock, even "the flock of the 
    slaughter," must follow the Shepherd wherever He goes. 
    
    In such illustrious company as this, and identified in suffering with a 
    Savior so precious, shall we not drink the cup our Father has given us with 
    sweet submission to His righteous and sovereign will? Shall we shrink from 
    the knife that but prunes, and from the fire that but refines, increasing 
    our holiness, and so promoting our happiness and usefulness here, and by the 
    same discipline advancing our fitness to take our place before the throne 
    with those who have come out of great tribulation, and have washed their 
    robes and made them white in the blood of the lamb?
    
    But God has fully and graciously met this condition of His Church. If He has 
    faithfully and clearly revealed the fact that He has chosen His people in 
    the furnace of affliction, He has, with equal fidelity and distinctness, 
    revealed the truth that He stands to them in the relation of the "God of all 
    comfort," who comforts them in all their tribulations. To an unfolding of 
    this truth, let us devote the remainder of this chapter.
    
    The true comfort of God's Church demands all the resources of Deity. Sin is 
    the cause of all sorrow, and sorrow is "legion" in its name, and protean in 
    its shape. Many are the afflictions of the righteous; and the varied forms 
    which those afflictions assume, are limited only by their countless number. 
    It is not, then, without thought we assert, that the resources of God's 
    nature alone could meet, mitigate, and remove the many afflictions, trials, 
    and temptations to whose wholesome discipline His saints are subject, in 
    their education for heaven, in their preparation for eternity. 
    
    And, oh, how sweet is the thought that, in all trials, and afflictions, and 
    sorrows, we have to deal with God, even the "God of all comfort!" From Him 
    comes the discipline! While sorrow springs not from the ground, even in the 
    history of a fallen world, the Lord's people are taught, not only to trace 
    His hand in the evil that is in the city, but especially their personal 
    affliction, to His arrangement, faithfulness, and love. How submissive the 
    language of the afflicted saint! "But what could I say? For he himself had 
    sent this sickness." "Now I will walk humbly throughout my years because of 
    this anguish I have felt. I am silent before you; I won't say a word. For my 
    punishment is from you." "It is the Lord's will. Let him do what he thinks 
    best."
    
    Thus, in all our fiery trials, we are at once brought to God. We recognize, 
    in the Hand that is to heal, the Hand that has wounded. In the very Being to 
    whose bosom we fly in our grief, we see the Sender of our sorrow. Thus, the 
    Author of our affliction and the Comforter of our grief is one, even our own 
    God, the "God of all comfort." Naturalists tell us that by the side of every 
    poisonous plant grows its antidote. Yet more certain is the truth recorded 
    by the inspired penman, and revealed by Jehovah Himself: "Look now; I myself 
    am he! There is no god other than me! I am the one who kills and gives life; 
    I am the one who wounds and heals; no one delivers from my power!"
    
    In looking more closely at this truth, let us remark, in the first place, 
    that IT IS IN THE HEART OF GOD TO COMFORT HIS PEOPLE. We need to begin with 
    this central truth. All real comfort for any sorrow flows from sympathy; and 
    true sympathy is the reflection of the heart. All our divine comfort is the 
    pure reflection of the heart of God. Oh, how imperfectly we deal with this 
    truth! God's heart is our heart; in it we dwell, as in a home, and within it 
    we are enclosed as in a pavilion. Can we for a moment doubt the heart of 
    God, when within His bosom He found the Lamb for our sin-offering? If, then, 
    He spared not His own Son, but gave Him up for us all, shall the shadow of a 
    doubt be allowed to rest upon our minds, shading the ray of hope that rests 
    there of comfort from God in the depth of our deepest grief and woe? In the 
    very heart that gave us Jesus, is welled the divine spring of all the true 
    consolation, which flows at our side through this valley of tears. Daughter 
    of affliction, child of sorrow! God loves you from His heart. Its every 
    pulse of life, its every throb of love, its every spring of compassion, its 
    every drop of sympathy is yours.
    
    God's heart speaks to your heart. Its deep love chimes with your deep grief. 
    Do you doubt this? Listen to His command to His servant, the prophet; 
    "Comfort, comfort my people," says your God. "Speak tenderly to Jerusalem. 
    Tell her that her sad days are gone and that her sins are pardoned. Yes, the 
    Lord has punished her in full for all her sins." And mark the tenderness of 
    God's comfort. Still it is the heart, and the heart of a mother! Whose heart 
    so full of love, and tenderness, and sympathy, and yearning, as hers? Listen 
    to the touching words; "As one whom his mother comforts, so will I comfort 
    you." "As one whom his mother comforts." From what source of love so pure, 
    what fountain of sensibility so deep, what spring of tenderness so sweet, 
    does sympathy and comfort flow, in seasons of adversity and sorrow, as hers? 
    A mother's heart is the first home which love enters, and the last it 
    leaves. Born with our birth, it grows with our growth, clings to us through 
    all life's vicissitudes, smiles when time smile, weeps when we weep, and, 
    when hoary hairs have silvered the brow, and age has dimmed the eye, and the 
    snows of many winters bow down the womanly form, the mother's love is as 
    deep, and fresh, and warm, as when first it clasped its new-born treasure to 
    its bosom. Such is the comfort with which God comforts His people. "As one 
    whom his mother comforts, so will I comfort you." 
    
    Add to this beautiful and expressive image, the thought that, God's comforts 
    are infinite and divine, while the tenderest yearnings of a parent's heart 
    are but finite and human, and you have the most perfect idea of the comfort 
    with which God, your Father, is prepared to comfort you, His sad and 
    sorrowful child.
    
    We anticipate, in the foregoing remarks, the idea that God's comforts are 
    parental. He comforts us as a father. All God's corrections are fatherly; so 
    is His comfort. The hand that slays, and the hand that makes alive, the hand 
    that wounds, and the hand that binds up, are both a Father's hand. "If you 
    endure chastening, God deals with you as with sons, for what son is he whom 
    the father chastens not." "As a father pities his children, so the Lord 
    pities those who fear Him." Such is the image which finds an echo in every 
    parental heart. How soothing thus to trace the discipline of trial to a 
    Father's hand! And truly God rebukes, and chides, and corrects us, even as a 
    father the children that he loves. How this view softens, subdues, and 
    heals! "If this cup is from my Father," exclaims the afflicted child, "then 
    will I drink it without a murmur. He has pierced my heart through and 
    through; He has smitten my sheltering gourd, and He has blighted my lovely 
    flower, and He has shaded my pleasant picture; but He is my Father still, 
    and I will yield Him reverence, bowing silently and submissively to the rod 
    which only love has sent, and which already is bursting into bud so 
    promising, and is maturing into fruit so precious, making me a partaker of 
    His holiness." 
    
    Accept, then, the comfort with which your Heavenly Father seeks to support 
    and soothe you in your present calamity. Refuse not to be comforted. To 
    refuse divine comfort because God's hand has smitten, is to cherish a 
    murmuring and rebellious spirit against God. Your persistent rejection of 
    all the promises, and assurances, and consolations of your Heavenly Father, 
    is as much as to say, "God has deeply, sorely wounded me, and I will not 
    forgive, and cannot forget." Do you do well to be angry? Who caused the 
    sheltering vine to grow? who reared the oak, around which the tendrils of 
    your heart so long and so closely entwined? Who revealed that spring, that 
    refreshed you so often from its clear and sparkling stream? Your Heavenly 
    Father! Then He has but recalled what was His own; and shall not the judge 
    of all the earth do right? Refuse not, then, the comfort which His own hand 
    offers. 
    
    In love He sent this temporal reverse; in love He shaded your home with 
    death; in love He transferred earth's flower to bloom in heaven's paradise; 
    and will you now reject the consolation He would sincerely pour into your 
    heart, exclaiming, in the spirit of contumacy and rebellion, "My soul 
    refuses to be comforted"? God forbid! Yield your drooping heart to that 
    comfort, as the fainting flower to the dew, as the sickly plant to the sun, 
    and, in the depth of your gratitude, exclaim, "Blessed be God, even the 
    Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all 
    comfort, who comforts us in all our tribulations!" 
    
    He is the "God of all comfort"- "all comfort," and for "all our 
    tribulations." It is a delightful thought, that in His own infinite heart, 
    in the covenant of grace, in the Gospel of His love, and in our Lord Jesus 
    Christ, He has made provision for all the afflictions, trials, and sorrows 
    of His people. So that no new trial springs up in your path, no new grief 
    shades your spirit, no new calamity crushes you to the earth, but the God of 
    all comfort has anticipated that very need in the comfort He has provided 
    for His Church. "Oh, how great is Your goodness which You have laid up for 
    those who fear You; which You have wrought for those who trust in You before 
    the sons of men!"
    
    And what a comfort is THE LORD JESUS CHRIST to His people! There could be no 
    revelation of God, as the God of all comfort, but in and through Christ. He 
    is the great Depository of our consolation. Yes, He is called the 
    "Consolation of Israel." Christ is our comfort, and the Holy Spirit is our 
    Comforter. Who can listen to these words of tenderness and love which 
    distilled from His lips into the sorrowing hearts of His disciples on the 
    eve of their separation from Him, and not feel that Christ is truly the 
    Consolation of His people; "Let not your heart be troubled; you believe in 
    God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions!" Does your 
    sorrow spring from a sense of sin? Jesus' blood pardons. Is it from a 
    conviction of condemnation? Jesus' righteousness justifies. Is it from the 
    power of indwelling sin? Jesus' grace subdues. Is it from some pressing 
    temporal need? All resources are in Jesus, and He has promised to supply all 
    your need, and that your bread and your water shall be sure. 
    
    Is bereavement- sore, crushing bereavement- your grief? Where will you find 
    such tender sympathy with your sorrow as dwells in His heart, of whom it is 
    recorded, "Jesus wept"? Who can comfort that sorrow, but Christ?- and He 
    can, and He will comfort it. Does some foe menace you, or does some 
    insurmountable difficulty lie in your way? All power is Christ's, and He 
    will defend you from your enemy, and will roll your stone of difficulty from 
    before your feet. Does suffering, and languor, and waning health affect your 
    spirits? He who "bore our sicknesses" is your Consolation now, and will not 
    leave you to suffer and pine alone, but can either heal your malady with a 
    word, or so make all your bed in sickness, by the supports of His grace, and 
    the discoveries of His love, as shall make you willing to lie there 
    patiently so long as it pleases Him. 
    
    A few practical deductions shall conclude this chapter. Learn from the 
    subject to take all your troubles at once to God. God wants you- speaking 
    after the manner of men- to make use of Him as the God of comfort. Why has 
    He revealed Himself as such, if not that you should repair to Him 
    immediately and without hesitation in every tribulation? They are sent for 
    this purpose that you might "acquaint yourself with Him." Many a poor soul 
    has made his first acquaintance with God in some deep, sore trial. It was 
    not until God tore up all his earthly comforts by the root that he was led 
    to see that all his life he had been living "without God in the world." 
    
    But it is in after-stages of our religious life that we know more of the 
    character of God, learn more of His loving heart and of His revealed word as 
    we fly to Him in our tribulations for the comfort He alone can give. And oh, 
    the blessedness of nearness to Him into which our trouble has brought us! 
    How have we kissed the rod and blessed the hand whose smitings have made 
    known and unsealed to us a source of such comfort and a fountain of such 
    blessing!
    
    And let us not overlook the VARIOUS CHANNELS through which God comforts us. 
    He comforts us by HIS WORD, its doctrines, promises, and precepts. He 
    comforts us through the channel of PRAYER, drawing us to His mercy-seat, and 
    bringing us into communion with Himself through Christ. Oh, what comfort 
    flows through this channel! The moment we arise and give ourselves to 
    prayer, we are conscious of a mental quietness, of a soothing of heart 
    indescribable. Prayer has unloosed the burden- prayer has dissolved the 
    cloud- prayer has proved an inlet of peace, joy, and hope, passing 
    understanding and full of glory. 
    
    God comforts us by the MINISTRY of His Word. For this purpose He furnishes 
    His servants with gift and grace, and while some are as John the Baptist, 
    "crying in the wilderness," others are like Barnabas, "sons of consolation," 
    able to speak a word in season to those who are weary. How expressive the 
    words of the apostle, "God, who comforts those who are cast down, comforted 
    us by the coming of Titus." Nor must we forget to remind you that God often 
    comforts His people by writing the sentence of death upon all comfort out of 
    Himself. Thus He spoke to His Church, "Behold, I will allure her, and bring 
    her into the wilderness, and speak comfortably unto her"- margin, "speak to 
    her heart." Is He thus bringing you, beloved, into the wilderness of 
    separation, of entanglement, of solitude? Be sure it is but to comfort you, 
    to speak to your heart, and to reveal Himself to you as the "God of all 
    comfort who comforts us in all our tribulation." 
    
    Thus, then, we learn that if we would have true comfort and consolation we 
    must in faith run to heaven for it. It is a treasure found in no earthly 
    climate. It is a jewel of heaven, a flower of paradise, found in no mine or 
    growing in no garden below. We can carve our own crosses, we cannot make our 
    own comfort. Seeking it from creatures, and amid creature good, we, alas! 
    but seek the living among the dead. "When I said, my bed shall comfort me, 
    You scared me with dreams." 
    
    Has Jesus given you an excess of comfort? Go and pour its overflowings in 
    some stricken heart. Remember one end of God's comforts- it is "that we 
    might be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, by the comfort with 
    which we ourselves are comforted of God." Oh, high and holy privilege- 
    godlike and divine- of repairing to some house of mourning, to some chamber 
    of sickness, to some bed of suffering, to some believer in Jesus passing 
    through adversity, and of some child of the light walking through darkness, 
    and of strengthening and comforting them in God. Be this our mission, and 
    then shall we be imitators of God, the "God of all comfort."
    
    Let me remind you what a fountain of comfort you have in the truth that this 
    God of all comfort is your God. Thus while you possess the streams, the 
    streams lead you to their source, and all that is in God is yours. I will 
    suppose your case one of extreme woe. I will imagine you tried in your 
    families, straitened in your circumstances, afflicted in your person, 
    friendless, and homeless; and yet, against all this, I will weigh the truth 
    that the God of all comfort is your God, and knowing how infinitely this 
    blessing outweighs all your destitution and sorrow, I would call upon you to 
    make the solitude through which you are traveling echo and reverberate with 
    your shouts of joy and your songs of praise. 
    
    What if your home is desolate and your provisions are scanty; what if your 
    heart is lonely and your body is diseased; if God is your God, and Christ is 
    your Savior, and heaven is your home? In the midst of all your trials, 
    sorrows, and discomforts, you have more cause to be happy and to sing than 
    the brightest angel or the sweetest seraph before the throne. They stand in 
    their own righteousness, you in the righteousness of God; they worship at a 
    humble distance from God, you are brought near by the blood of Christ, enter 
    into the holiest, and call Him Father!
    
    And is it no comfort to be assured that Christ is yours, and that you are 
    Christ's? With such a Savior and Friend, with such a Patron and Intercessor 
    in heaven as Jesus, how comforted should you be in all your tribulations! 
    Jesus knows you; others may not. The world assails, the saints judge; 
    friends misinterpret and foes condemn, just because they neither know nor 
    cannot understand you. Jesus knows you! Let this suffice. What a comfort 
    that you can admit Him to every cloister of your soul, to every secret of 
    your heart, with the feeling that He sees all, knows all, and understands 
    all; and, what is more, sympathizes with, and approves all, which must, from 
    the nature of the case, be profoundly veiled and inexplicable to human eye.
    
    
    Oh to live independently of the saints, and above the world, upon Jesus!– 
    this is true comfort. The moment you are brought fully to realize– "Christ 
    knows me altogether: my personal infirmities, my secret sorrows, my domestic 
    trials, my professional anxieties, all the workings of my inner life," you 
    are comforted as no friend on earth or angel in heaven could comfort you. 
    Oh, what a Christ is ours! How should we love Him, trust Him, serve Him, and 
    if need be, suffer and die for Him.
    
    Poor worldling! what is your comfort?– the creature that soon must die? the 
    world that you soon must leave? a life that is but as a shadow? the prospect 
    of a death without a Savior? and an eternity without a heaven? Is this all? 
    Yes, this is all the real comfort which you possess. Oh, fly to Christ 
    without a moment's hesitation or delay! Secure an interest in Jesus, make 
    Him your Friend, trust in Him as your Savior, accept Him as your Portion, 
    and you shall be comforted in this life, and be happy forever in the life 
    that is to come.
    
    "May our Lord Jesus Christ and God our Father, who loved us and in his 
    special favor gave us everlasting comfort and good hope, comfort your hearts 
    and give you strength in every good thing you do and say." 2 Thes. 2:16-17