No comfort can be true and divine and consequently effectual, that concerns itself alone with the trial and sorrow. It is truly a welcome relief to the aching heart to find another heart entering into its grief; but this is sympathy rather than comfort.
The characteristic of comfort is that it strengthens the soul to bear its burden with fortitude as well as resignation; and it accomplishes this result by considering the trial in the light of the glory of God. When sorrows overtake and overwhelm the soul, it gives itself many a bitter pang by reiterating the question—Why do I suffer this? Why has this come upon me? And under these circumstances there can be no real comfort, until such a one lays hold by faith upon the fact which scripture abundantly reveals, that the clouds and storms are but agents in the development of the beneficent purposes of God. All things are working together for the accomplishment of good; and this to those who love God and who are the called according to purpose. This we had not known but for the word of God; but He has given it for our comfort, and that we may thereby trace His hand in each event, minute or mighty, which befalls us. Leave God out, and all is confusion and anarchy: a crowd of pitiless misfortunes grinding man to the very dust of the ground from whence he was formed. Bring God in, and the man of faith can rejoice in tribulations also.
The incident at Bethany (John 11) with its touching and pathetic details illustrates how the golden threads of divine purpose are interwoven with the darkest texture of the lives of God's saints. It was undoubtedly written for the comfort of those of His own who are called to face what is perhaps the bitterest of all the sorrows of this vale of tears.
Bethany was a place of particularly sweet and precious associations in the life of our Lord. It Was in Bethany, the home of Lazarus and Martha and Mary, that the Lord found a retreat from Jerusalem where He was hated and despised of all. It was there that Blessed One found the excellent of the earth, the saints in whom was all His delight (Psa. 16:33But to the saints that are in the earth, and to the excellent, in whom is all my delight. (Psalm 16:3)). So that we read “Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus” (John 11:55Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus. (John 11:5)).
It is of great moment to note this last fact, stated as it is at the very outset of the narrative. This family was not simply a part of those of “His own” to whom He came, but they were of those who received Him and believed on His name (John 1:11, 1211He came unto his own, and his own received him not. 12But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name: (John 1:11‑12)), and who thus became “His own” in a higher sense. And in that circle of favor and blessedness the trio of Bethany, had by their faith and love, their piety and devotion, advanced to such eminence that they are described like a certain other disciple, as those whom “Jesus loved.”
It might be supposed that such a favored household would enjoy a complete. immunity from the ravages of sorrow, sickness, and death. So they would think who knew not that Messiah the Prince was also the Man of Sorrows. And where He is the Guest, it should be no matter of surprise if afflictions attend in His train.
And so it came about at Bethany. A mortal disease laid hold on Lazarus, who doubtless was the least to be spared of any in that household. To him the sisters clung in womanly affection; on him they rested in womanly dependence.
In their distress they appeal to Jesus. He was not in their vicinity, but they send a message, brief but full of faith and implicit confidence. “Lord,” they say, “behold he whom thou (dearly) lovest is sick.” It was not an importunate passionate petition, but calm and restful in the assurance that the Lord's interest would be at once awakened. It rose above the prayer of the leper— “Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean.” Assuredly the leper had not reached beyond faith in the Lord's power, while the sisters knew and believed His love as well as His power. And it was this sense of the love of the Lord that imparted to them a firm trust that He would speedily and effectually help them. They put it to themselves whether, supposing they had the power to heal their brother, they would not fly to his deliverance. How much more then would Jesus, seeing His love for Lazarus exceeded even their own!
Yet although the Lord loved the sick man (so much that even the unimpressionable Jews said when they saw Him weep at the grave, “Behold, how he loved him),” and although the message from the sisters displayed such reliance on His loving interest, the Lord abode two days longer in the place where He was. It was not His wont so to receive the petitions for aid addressed to Him. Usually the answers came swift, and sure, and abounding. The touch of a woman in the crowd, the message of a Roman centurion, the cry of a Syro-Phænician woman, all received an immediate and suitable reply. But the desire of these, His very dear friends, received no direct response.
Truly His thoughts are not as our thoughts, neither His ways as our ways. For while the Lord's ways were human they were at the same time superhuman; while they were natural, they were also supernatural. Right affections have swayed servants of God into wrong paths; but never the perfect Servant. Patriotism might take Jonah to Joppa instead of to Nineveh, and human relationship along with kindly benevolence might influence Barnabas to choose his nephew John Mark, in spite of the apostle Paul's judgment; but close friendship did not open the lips of the Lord to speak a word of healing on behalf of dying Lazarus. There was no honey in the meat-offering (Lev. 2).
One consideration alone regulated the movements of the blessed Son here below. As the glory-cloud was the guide of the ancient people of God through the wilderness, so the glory of God was ever before the Lord Jesus. Hence the word spoken on this occasion, showing what was governing His actions then as at all other times. “This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God.” And it was essential for the due accomplishment of that glory, that He should sojourn two days longer where He was. And nothing, whether obstacles or enticements, could swerve Him from the path of perfect obedience.
And here we see the perfection of the Lord. Who but He could maintain intact the rights and claims of God at such a moment of deep sorrow? Who could love and perfectly sympathize with the aching hearts at Bethany and yet calmly await the slow approach of the moment when, and not before, the glory of God might be accomplished along with the restoration of Lazarus to his bereaved sisters? There was but One, and He, the Son of God.
And as He was perfect in His subjection to the glory of God, so may we not say He knew perfectly the administration of comfort to His soul. As He says in the Psalms, “In the multitude of my thoughts within me, thy comforts delight my soul.” May the contemplation of His excellence produce a counterpart within us.
(To be continued, D.V.).