In our Lord’s reply to Martha we have one of the very finest utterances that ever fell on the human ear. “Said I not unto thee, that, if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God?” What living depth, what divine power, what freshness, sweetness, and comfort in these words! They present to us the very gist and marrow, the heart’s core, the essential principle of the divine life. It is only the eye of faith that can see the glory of God. Unbelief sees only difficulties, darkness, and death. Faith looks above and beyond all these, and ever basks in the blessed beams of the divine glory. Poor Martha saw nothing but a decomposed human body, simply because she was governed by a spirit of dark and depressing unbelief. Had she been swayed by an artless faith, she would have walked to the tomb in company with Him who is the resurrection and the life, assured that, instead of death and decomposition, she should see the glory of God.
Reader, this is a grand principle for the soul to get a thorough grasp of. It is utterly impossible for human language to overstate its value and importance. Faith never looks at difficulties, except indeed it be to feed on them. It looks not at the things that are seen, but at the things that are unseen. It endures as seeing Hum who is invisible. It takes hold of the living God. It leans on His arm; it makes use of His strength; it draws on His exhaustless treasury; it walks in the light of His blessed countenance, and sees His glory shining forth over the darkest scenes of human life.
The inspired volume abounds in striking illustrations of the contrast between faith and unbelief. Let us glance at one or two of them. Look, for example, at Caleb and Joshua, in contrast with their unbelieving brethren, in Numb. 13. These latter saw only the difficulties which stood in their way. “Nevertheless the people be strong that dwell in the land”—not stronger than Jehovah, surely— “and the cities are walled and very great;”—not greater than the living God— “and moreover we saw the children of Anak there.” It is very clear that they did not see the glory of God; indeed they saw anything and everything but that. They were wholly governed by a spirit of unbelief, and hence they could only “bring up an evil report of the land which they had searched unto the children of Israel, saying, “The land through which we have gone to search it is a land that eateth up the inhabitants thereof; and all the people that we saw in it are men of a great stature”—they did not see a single small man, not one trifling difficulty; they looked at everything through the magnifying-glass of unbelief. “There we saw the giants”—no doubt!— “and the sons of Anak which come of the giants.” And nothing more? Nothing whatever. God was shut out; they could not see Him at all through the glasses they used. They could only see the terrible giants and towering walls. “And we were in our own sight as grasshoppers, and so were we in their sight.”
But what of Jehovah? Alas, He was shut out! Unbelief invariably leaves God out of its calculations. It can take a very accurate account of all the difficulties, all the hindrances, all the hostile influences, but as for the living God, it sees Him not. There is a melancholy consistency in the utterances of unbelief, whether we listen to them in the wilderness of Kadesh, or, fourteen hundred years afterward, at the tomb of Lazarus. Unbelief is always and everywhere the same; it begins, continues, and ends with the absolute and complete exclusion of the one living and true God. It can do naught save to cast dark shadows over the pathway of every one who will listen to its voice.
How different are the accents of faith! Hearken to Joshua and Caleb, as they seek to stem the rising tide of unbelief. “And Joshua the son of Nun, and Caleb the son of Jephunneh, which were of them that searched the land, rent their clothes; and they spake unto all the company of the children of Israel, saying, “The land which we passed through to search it is an exceeding good land. If the Lord delight in us”—here lies the secret— “then he will bring us into this land, and give it us, a land which floweth with milk and honey. Only rebel not ye against the Lord, neither fear ye the people of the land, for they are bread for us;”—faith actually feeds on the difficulties which terrify unbelief— “their defense is departed from them, and the Lord is with us; fear them not.”
Glorious words! It does the heart good to transcribe them. “Said I not unto thee, that if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God?” Thus it is always. If there is a melancholy consistency in the utterances of unbelief, there is a glorious consistency in the accents of faith, wherever we hearken to them. Caleb and Joshua saw the glory of God, and in the light of that glory, what were giants and high walls? Simply nothing. If anything, they were bread for the nourishment of faith. Faith brings in God, and He shuts out all difficulties. What walls or giants could stand before the Almighty God? “If God be for us, who can be against us?” Such is ever the artless, but powerful, reasoning of faith. It conducts all its arguments, and reaches all its conclusions, in the blessed light of the divine presence. It sees the glory of God. It looks above and beyond the heavy clouds which at times gather upon the horizon, and finds in God its sure and never-failing resource. Precious faith! The only thing in the world that really glorifies God; the only thing that makes the heart of the Christian truly bright and happy.
Let us take another illustration. Turn to 1 Kings 17, and contrast the widow of Sarepta with Elijah the Tishbite. What was the difference between them? Just the difference that ever exists between unbelief and faith. Listen again to the utterances of unbelief. “And she said, As the Lord thy God liveth, I have not a cake, but an handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse: and behold I am gathering two sticks, that I may go in and dress it for me and my son, that we may eat it and die.”
Here, truly, is a gloomy picture. An empty barrel, an exhausted cruse, and death! Was that all? That was all for blind unbelief. It is the old story of the giants and lofty walls over again. God is shut out, though she could say, “As the Lord thy God liveth.” In reality she had no real sense of His presence, and of His all-sufficiency to meet her need and that of her house. Her circumstances excluded God from the vision of her soul. She looked at things that were seen, not at the things which were unseen. She saw not the invisible One; she saw nothing but famine and death. As the ten unbelieving spies saw nothing but the difficulties; as Martha saw nothing but the grave and its humiliating results; so the poor Sareptan saw nothing but starvation and death.
Not so the man of faith. He looked beyond the barrel and the cruse. He had no thought of dying of hunger. He rested on the word of the Lord. Here was his precious resource. God had said, “I have commanded a widow woman there to sustain thee.” This was quite enough for him. He knew that God could turn the very barrel itself into meal, and the cruse into oil, to sustain him, if necessary. Like Caleb and Joshua, he brought God into the scene, and found in Him the true solution of every difficulty. They saw God above and beyond the walls and the giants. They rested on His eternal word. He had promised to bring His people into the land, and hence, though there were nothing but walls and giants from Dan to Beersheba, He would most surely fulfill His word.
And so with Elijah the Tishbite. He saw the living and Almighty God above and beyond the barrel and the cruse. He rested upon that word which is settled forever in heaven, and which never can fail a trusting heart. This tranquillized his spirit, and with this he sought to tranquillize the widow too. “And he said unto her, Fear not;”—precious, soul-stirring, utterance of faith!— “go and do as thou hast said..... For thus saith the Lord God of Israel, The barrel of meal shall not waste, neither shall the erase of oil fail, until the day that the Lord sendeth rain on the earth.”
Here was the solid ground on which the man of God rested when he ventured to offer a word of encouragement to the poor desponding widow of Sarepta. It was not in the light-heartedness, or blind recklessness, of nature that he spoke to her. He did not attempt to deny that the barrel and cruse were almost empty, as the woman had said. This could have given her no comfort, inasmuch as she knew too well the facts of her case. But he brought the living God and His faithful word before her sinking heart; and hence he could say, “Fear not.” He sought to lead her soul to that true resting-place where he himself had found repose, namely, the word of God—blessed, unfailing, divine resting-place for every anxious soul!
Thus it was with Caleb and Joshua. They did not attempt to deny that there were giants and high walls. That would have been of no possible use. But they brought God in, and sought to place Him between the hearts of their desponding brethren and the dreaded difficulties. This is what faith always does, and thus gives glory to God, and keeps the soul in perfect peace, let the difficulties be ever so great. It is the height of folly to deny that there are obstacles and hostile influences in the way. There is a certain style of speaking of such things which cannot possibly minister comfort or encouragement to a poor troubled heart. Faith accurately weighs the difficulties and trials, but knows that the power of God outweighs them all, and rests in holy calmness on His word, and in His perfect wisdom and everlasting love.
The reader’s mind will no doubt recur to many other instances in which the Lord’s people have been cast down, by looking at circumstances, instead of looking at God. David, in a dark moment, could say, “I shall one day perish by the hand of Saul.” What a sad mistake! The mistake of unbelief. What should he have said? Denied that the hand of Saul was against him? Surely not; what comfort could that have given him, inasmuch as he knew too well that it was really so? But he should have remembered that the hand of God was for him, and that hand was stronger than ten thousand Sauls.
So with Jacob, in his day of darkness and depression. “All these things,” said he, “ areagainst me.” What should he have added? “ But God is for me.” Faith has its “ huts” and “ ifs” as well as unbelief; but faith’s buts and ifs are all bright, because they express the passage of the soul—its rapid passage from the difficulties to God Himself. “But God who is rich,” &c. And again, “If God be for us, who can be against us?” Thus faith ever reasons. It begins with God. It places Him between the soul and all its surroundings, and thus imparts a peace which passeth all understanding, a peace which nothing can disturb.
But we must, ere closing this paper, return for a moment to the tomb of Lazarus. The rapid glance we have taken through the inspired volume will enable us to appreciate more fully those most precious words of our Lord to Martha, “Said I not unto thee, that if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God?” Men tell us that seeing is believing, but we can say that believing is seeing. Yes, reader, get hold of this grand truth. It will carry you through, and bear you above, the darkest and most trying scenes of this dark and trying world. “Have faith in God.” This is the mainspring of the divine life. “The life that I live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.” Faith knows, and is persuaded, that there is nothing too hard, nothing too great, yea, and nothing too small, for God. It can count on Him for everything. It basks in the very sunlight of His presence, and exults in the manifestations of His goodness, His faithfulness, and His power. It ever delights to see the platform cleared of the creature, that the glory of God may shine forth in all its luster. It turns away from all creature streams and creature props, and finds all its resources in the one living and true God.
Only see how the divine glory displays itself at the grave of Lazarus, even spite of the unbelieving suggestion of Martha’s heart—for God, blessed be His name, delights at times to rebuke our fears, as well as to answer our faith. “Then they took away the stone where the dead was laid. And Jesus lifted up his eyes, and said, Father, I thank thee that thou hast heard me. And I knew that thou hearest me always; but because of the people which stand by I said it, that they may believe that thou hast sent me. And when he thus had spoken, he cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth. And he that was dead came forth, bound hand and foot with grave clothes; and his face was bound about with a napkin. Jesus saith unto them, Loose him, and let him go.”
Glorious scene! displaying our Jesus as the Son of God, with power, by resurrection of the dead. Gracious scene! in which the Son of God condescends to use man in rolling away the stone, and removing the grave clothes. How good of Him to use us in any little way! May it be our joy to be ever ready! May His grace in using us produce in us a holy readiness to be used, that God in all things may be glorified!
(To be continued, if the Lord will).