We want the reader to turn with us to John 11 and 12. If we mistake not, he will find therein a very rare spiritual treat. In John 11 we see what the Lord Jesus was to the family of Bethany; and in John 12 we see what the family of Bethany was to Him. The entire passage is full of the most precious instruction.
In John 11 we have three great subjects presented to us; namely, first, our Lord’s own path with the Father; second, His profound sympathy with His people; and, third, His grace in associating us with Himself in His work, in so far as that is possible.
“Now a certain man was sick, named Lazarus, of Bethany, the town of Mary and her sister Martha. (It was that Mary which anointed the Lord with ointment, and wiped His feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was sick.) Therefore his sisters sent unto Him, saying: Lord, behold, he whom Thou lovest is sick. When Jesus heard that, He said, This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified thereby.”
The sisters, in their time of trouble, turned to their divine Friend; and they were right. Jesus was a sure resource for them, as He is for all His tried ones wherever, however, or whoever they are. “Call upon Me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify Me” (Psa. 50:15). We make a most serious mistake when, in any time of need or pressure, we turn to the creature for help or sympathy. We are sure to be disappointed. Creature streams are dry. Creature props give way. Our God will make us prove the vanity and folly of all creature confidences, human hopes, and earthly expectations. And, on the other hand, He will prove to us, in the most touching and forcible manner, the truth and blessedness of His own word, “They shall not be ashamed that wait for Me” (Isa. 49:23).
No, never! He, blessed be His holy name, never fails a trusting heart. He cannot deny Himself. He delights to take occasion from our wants, woes, and weaknesses, to express and illustrate His tender care and loving-kindness in a thousand ways. But He will teach us the utter barrenness of all human resources. “Thus saith the LORD; Cursed be the man that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm, and whose heart departeth from the LORD. For he shall be like the heath in the desert, and shall not see when good cometh; but shall inhabit the parched places in the wilderness, in a salt land not inhabited” (Jer. 17:5-6).
Thus it must ever be. Disappointment, barrenness, and desolation are the sure and certain results of trusting in man. But, on the other hand — and mark the contrast, reader — “Blessed is the man that trusteth in the LORD, and whose hope the LORD is. For he shall be as a tree planted by the waters, and that spreadeth out her roots by the river, and shall not see when heat cometh, but her leaf shall be green; and shall not be careful in the year of drought, neither shall cease from yielding fruit” (Jer. 17:7-8).
Such is the unvarying teaching of Holy Scripture on both sides of this great practical question. It is a fatal mistake to look even to the very best of men — to betake ourselves, directly or indirectly, to poor human cisterns. But the true secret of all blessedness, strength, and comfort is to look to Jesus — to betake ourselves at once in simple faith to the living God whose delight it ever is to help the needy, to strengthen the feeble, and lift up those that are cast down.
Hence then the sisters of Bethany did the right thing when, in the hour of need and pressure, they turned to Jesus. He was both able and willing to help them. But the blessed One did not at once respond to their call. He did not see fit at once to fly to their relief, much as He loved them. He fully entered into their sorrow and anxiety. He took it all in and measured it perfectly. He was thoroughly with them in it. There was no lack of sympathy, as we shall see in the sequel. Yet He paused; and the enemy might cast in all sorts of suggestions, and their own hearts might conceive all sorts of reasonings. It might seem as though “the Master” had forgotten them. Perhaps their loving Lord and Friend was changed toward them. Something may have occurred to bring a cloud between them. We all know how the poor heart reasons and tortures itself at such times. But there is a divine remedy for all the heart’s reasonings, and a triumphant answer to all the enemy’s dark and horrible suggestions. What is it? Unshaken confidence in the eternal stability of the love of Christ.
Christian reader, here lies the true secret of the whole matter. Let nothing shake your confidence in the unalterable love of your Lord. Come what may — let the furnace be ever so hot — let the waters be ever so deep — let the shadows be ever so dark — let the path be ever so rough — let the pressure be ever so great — still hold fast your confidence in the perfect love and sympathy of the One who has proved His love by going down into the dust of death — down under the dark and heavy billows and waves of the wrath of God, in order to save your soul from everlasting burnings. Be not afraid to trust Him fully — to commit yourself, without a shadow of reserve or misgiving, to Him. Do not measure His love by your circumstances. If you do, you must of necessity reach a false conclusion. Judge not according to the outward appearance. Never reason from your surroundings. Get to the heart of Christ, and reason out from that blessed center. Never interpret His love by your circumstances, but always interpret your circumstances by His love. Let the beams of His everlasting favor shine upon your darkest surroundings, and then you will be able to answer every infidel thought, no matter whence it comes.
It is a grand thing to be able, come what may, to vindicate God, to stand, even if we can do nothing more, as a monument of His unfailing faithfulness to all who put their trust in Him. What though the horizon around be dark and depressing — though the heavy clouds gather and the storm rage — God is faithful and will not suffer us to be tempted above that we are able; but will, with the temptation, make a way of escape, that we may be able to bear it.
Besides, we must not measure divine love by the mode of its manifestation. We are all prone to do so, but it is a great mistake. The love of God clothes itself in varied forms, and not unfrequently the form seems to us, in our shallowness and shortsightedness, mysterious and incomprehensible. But, if only we wait patiently and in artless confidence, divine light will shine upon the dispensation of divine providence, and our hearts shall be filled with wonder, love, and praise.
“We leave it to Himself,
To choose and to command;
With wonder filled, we soon shall see
How wise, how strong, His hand.
“We comprehend Him not;
Yet earth and heaven tell,
God sits as Sovereign on the throne
And ruleth all things well.”
God’s thoughts are not as our thoughts; nor His ways as our ways; nor His love as our love. If we hear of a friend in distress or difficulty of any kind, our first impulse is to fly to his help and relieve him of his pressure if possible But this might be a very great mistake. In place of rendering help, it might be doing serious mischief. We might actually be running athwart the purpose of God; and taking our friend out of a position in which divine government had placed him for his ultimate and permanent profit. The love of God is a wise and faithful love. It abounds toward us in all wisdom and prudence. We, on the contrary, make the gravest mistakes, even when most sincerely desiring to do what is right and good. We are not competent to take in all the bearings of things, or scan the windings and workings of providence, or weigh the ultimate results of the divine dealings. Hence, the urgent need of waiting much on God; and, above all things, of holding fast our confidence in His unchanging, unfailing, unerring love. He will make all plain. He will bring light out of darkness, life out of death, victory out of seeming defeat. He will cause the deepest and darkest distress to yield the very richest harvest of blessing. He will make all things work together for good. But He is never in a hurry. He has His own wise ends in view, and He will reach them in His own time and way; and, moreover, out of what may seem to us to be a dark, tangled, inexplicable maze of providence, light will spring forth and fill our souls with praise and adoration.
The foregoing line of thought may help us to understand and appreciate our Lord’s bearing toward the sisters in Bethany, on hearing of their trouble. He felt there was much more involved in the case than the mere matter of relieving those whom He, nevertheless, deeply loved. The glory of God had to be considered. Hence, He says, “This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified thereby.” He saw in this case an occasion for the display of the divine glory, and not merely for the exhibition of personal affection, however deep and real that might be — and with Him, blessed be His name, it was both deep and real, for we read, “Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus.”
But, in the judgment of our blessed and adorable Lord, the glory of God took precedence of every other consideration. Neither personal affection nor personal fear had the smallest sway over His movements. He was ruled, in all things, by the glory of God. From the manger to the cross, in life and in death, in all His words and all His works and all His ways, His devoted heart was set with firm and unalterable purpose upon the glory of God. Hence, though it might be a good thing to relieve a friend in distress, it was far better and higher to glorify God; and we may rest assured, that the beloved family of Bethany sustained no loss by a delay which only made room for the brighter shining out of the divine glory.
Let us all remember this in seasons of trial and pressure. It is an all-important point and, when fully apprehended, will prove a very deep and blessed source of consolation. It will help us marvelously to bear up under sickness, pain, death, bereavement, sorrow, and poverty. How blessed to be able to stand beside the sickbed of a friend and say, “This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God”! And this is faith’s privilege. Yes, the true believer can stand, not only in the sick chamber, but by the open grave, and see the beams of the divine glory shining forth over all.
No doubt the skeptic might cavil at the statement that, “This sickness is not unto death.” He might object and reason and argue on the ground of the apparent fact that Lazarus did die. But faith never reasons from appearances. It brings God in and there finds a divine solution for all difficulties. Such is the moral elevation — such the reality of a life of faith. It sees God above and beyond all circumstances. It reasons from God downward, and never from circumstances upward. Sickness and death are nothing in the presence of divine power. All difficulties disappear from the pathway of faith. They are, as Joshua and Caleb assured their unbelieving brethren, simply bread for the true believer.
Nor is this all. Faith can wait God’s time, knowing that His time is the best. It staggers not, even though He may seem to linger. It rests with the most perfect calmness in the assurance of His unchanging love and unerring wisdom. It fills the heart with the sweetest confidence, that if there be delay — if the relief be not sent all at once — it is all for the best, inasmuch as all things work together for good, and all must in the long run redound to the glory of God. Faith enables its happy possessor to vindicate God amid the most intense pressure, and to know and confess that divine love always does the very best for its object.