“Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous: nevertheless, afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby.” Hebrews 12:11

One reason, perhaps, why so little is written to-day upon Divine chastisement, and why it so rarely forms the theme of the pulpit, is because it suits not the false temper and sentiments of this superficial age. The great majority of the preachers are men-pleasers, and carefully do they trim their sails to the breezes of popular opinion. They are paid to speak “smooth things” and not those which will disturb, to soothe consciences rather than search them. That which is unpalatable, mournful, solemn, dread-inspiring, is sedulously avoided, and attractive, cheerful, and comforting subjects are substituted in their stead. Hence, not only is it now rare for the preacher to dwell upon the eternal punishment of the wicked and bid the unsaved flee from the wrath to come, but Christians hear very little about the Father’s rod, and the groans it occasions, or the fruits it afterwards produces.

Fifty years ago a faithful servant of God wrote:

“One of the platitudes of the present day is, that religion is not a gloomy, but a cheerful thing. Although it is easy to see what was meant by him who first opposed this assertion, either to morbid and self-assumed gloom, or to the ignorant representation of the world; yet as it is generally understood, nothing can be less true. Blessed are they that mourn. Woe unto you that laugh. Narrow is the way. If any man will serve Me, let him take up his cross, and follow Me. He that seeketh his life shall lose it. Although the Christian anoints his head and washes his face, he is always fasting; the will has been broken by God, by wounding or bereaving us in our most tender point; the flesh is being constantly crucified. We are not born to be happy either in this world or in our present condition, but the reverse to be unhappy; nay, to try constantly to be dead to self and the world, that the spirit may possess God, and rejoice in Him.

“As there is a false and morbid asceticism, so there is also a false and pernicious tendency to cover a worldly and shallow method of life under the phrase of ‘religion being joyous, and no enemy to cheerfulness.’ To take a very simple and obvious instance. What is meant by a ‘cheerful, pleasant Sunday?’ No doubt men have erred on the side of strictness and legalism; but is a ‘cheerful Sunday’ one in which there is much communion with God in prayer and meditation on God’s Word, much anticipation of the joys of Heaven in praise and fellowship with the brethren? Alas! too many understand by a cheerful Sunday a day in which the spiritual element is reduced to a minimum” (Adolph Saphir).

Alas, conditions have become so much worse since then. The attractions of the world, and everything which is pleasing to the flesh, have been brought into thousands of “churches” under the plea of being “necessary if the young people are to be held.”  Even in those places where the bars have not thus been let down, where the grosser forms of worldliness are not yet tolerated, the preaching is generally of such a character that few are likely to be made uneasy by it. He who dwells on the exceeding sinfulness of sin, who insists that God will not tolerate unjudged sin even in His own people, but will surely visit it with heavy stripes, is a “kill joy,” a “troubler of Israel,” a “Job’s comforter;” and if he persists in enforcing the precepts, admonitions, warnings, and judgments of Holy Writ, is likely to soon find all doors dosed against him. But better this, than be a compromiser; better be deprived of all preaching engagements, than miss the Master’s “Well done” in the Day to come.

In this verse, the apostle concludes his discussion of that theme which is now so unwelcome to the majority of professing Christians. Therein he brings to a close all that he had said concerning those disciplinary afflictions which an all-wise God brings upon His people in this life, His gracious design in the same, and the duty incumbent upon them to receive these in a right spirit. He sums up his argument by balancing the good over against the evil, the future over against the present, the judgment of faith over against the feelings of the flesh.

Our present text is added to what has been said in the previous verses for the purpose of anticipating and removing an objection. After all the comforting and encouraging statements made, namely, that chastisements proceed not from enemies but from our Father, that they are sent not in anger but in love, that they are designed not to crush but “for our profit;” carnal sense and natural reason interposes an objection: “But we find no joy under our afflictions, instead much sorrow. We do not feel that they are for our profit; we cannot see how they can be so; therefore we are much inclined to doubt what you have said.” The apostle grants the force of the objection: that for the present, chastening does “seem to be grievous and not joyous.” But he brings in a double limitation or qualification: in reference to outward sense, it only “seems” so; in reference to time, this is only for “the present.” Having made this concession, the apostle turns to the objector and says, “Nevertheless.’’ He reminds him that, first, there is an “afterward” beyond the present moment, to be borne in mind; second, he presses on him the need of being “exercised thereby”; third, he assures him that if he is so exercised “peaceable fruit” will be the happy issue.

There are four things told us in the text about chastisement as it is viewed by human reason.

1. All that carnal reason can perceive in our chastenings is BUT SEEMING. All that flesh and blood can discover about the nature and quality of Divine afflictions is but their outward and superficial appearance. The eye of reason is utterly incapable of discovering the virtue and value of sanctified trials. How often we are deceived by mere “seeming!” This is true in the natural sphere: appearances are proverbially deceptive. There are many optical illusions. Have you not noticed some nights when the sun is sinking in the west, that it is much bigger than at its zenith? Yet it is not so in reality; it only “seems” to be so. Have you stood on the deck of a ship in mid-ocean and, while gazing at the horizon, suddenly been startled by the sight of land? — the outline of the coast, with the rising hills in the background, there deafly defined? Yet after all, it was but “seeming:” it was nothing but clouds. In like manner, you have read of a mirage seen by travelers in the desert: away over the sands, they see in the distance green trees and a shining pool of water; but this is only an optical delusion, effected in some way by the atmosphere.

Now if this be so in connection with natural things, the “seeming” not being the actual, the apparent not being the reality, how much more is it true in connection with the things of God!  Afflictions are not what they “seem” to be. They appear to work for our ill, and not for our good; so that we are inclined to say, “An enemy hath done this.” They seem to be for our injury, rather than our “profit,” and we murmur and are cast down. So often fear distorts our vision; so often unbelief brings scales over our eyes, and we exaggerate the dimensions of trials in the dark and dim light. So often we are selfish, fond of our fleshly ease; and therefore spiritual discernment falls to a low ebb. No, chastenings for the present do not seem to be joyous, but “grievous”; but that is because we view them through our natural senses and in the light of carnal reason.

2. Carnal reason judges afflictions in the light of the PRESENT. The tendency with all of us is to estimate things in the light of the now. The ungodly are ever ready to sacrifice their future interests for present gratification. One of their favorite mottos is, “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush:” it may be to the slothful, but the enterprising and diligent would rather be put to a little trouble and secure the two. Man is a very shortsighted creature, and even the Christian is often dominated by the same sentiments that regulate the wicked. The light of the now is generally the worst in which to form a true estimate of things. We are too close to them to obtain a right perspective, and see things in their proper proportions. To view an oil painting to the best advantage, we need to step back a few feet from it. The same principle applies to our lives. Proof of this is found as we now look back upon that which is past. Today the Christian discovers a meaning, a needs-be, a preciousness, in many a past experience, and even disappointment, which he could not discern at the time.

The case of Jacob is much to the point, and should guard us against following his foolish example. After Joseph had been removed from his doting father, and when he thought he had lost Simeon too, viewing things in the light of “the present,” he petulantly said, “All these things are against me” (Genesis 42:36). Such is often the mournful plaint which issues from our short-sighted unbelief. But later, Jacob discovered his mistake, and found that all those things had been working together for good to himself and his loved ones. Alas, we are so impatient and impetuous, so occupied with the present, that we fail to look forward and by faith anticipate the happy sequel. Then, too, the effects which afflictions have upon the old man, disqualify us to estimate them aright. If my heart is palpitating, if my mind is agitated, and my soul is cast down, then I am in no fit state to judge the quality and blessedness of Divine afflictions. No, chastenings for the present do not “seem to be joyous, but grievous;” that is because we take such a shortsighted view of them and fail to look forward with the eyes of faith and hope.

3. To carnal reason, afflictions never seem “joyous.” This logically follows from what has been before us under the first two points. Because carnal reason sees only the “seeming” of things, and because it estimates them only in the light of “the present,” afflictions are not joyous. Nor does God intend that, in themselves, they should be. If afflictions did “seem” to be joyous, would they be chastisements at all? It would be of little use for an earthly parent to whip his child in such a way as to produce only smiles. Such would be merely a make-belief; no smart, no benefit.  Solomon said, “It is the blueness of the wound which maketh the heart better;” so if Divine chastisements are not painful to the flesh and extort a groan and cry, what good end would they serve? If God sent us trials such as we wished, they would not be chastenings at all. No, afflictions do not “seem” to be joyous.

They are not joyous in the form they assume. When the Lord smites, He does so in a tender place, that we may feel the smart of it. They are not joyous in the force of them. Oftentimes we are inclined to say, If the trial had not been quite so severe, or the disappointment had not been so great, I could have endured it. God puts just so much bitter herbs into our cup as to make the draught unpleasant. They are not joyous in the time of them. We always think they come at the wrong season. If it were left to our choosing, they would never come; but if we must have them, we would choose the time when they are the least grievous; and thus miss their blessing. Nor are they joyous in the instruments used: “If it were an enemy, then I could have borne it,” said David. That is what we all think. O if my trial were not just that! Poverty I could endure, but not reproach and slander. To have lost my own health would have been a hard blow, but I could have borne it; but the removal of that dear child, the light of my eyes, how can I ever rejoice again? Have you not heard brethren speak thus?

4. To carnal reason, afflictions ever seem to be “grievous.” Probably the most grievous part to the Christian is that he cannot see how much a loss or trial can possibly benefit him. If he could thus see, he would rejoice. Even here we must walk by faith and not by sight. But this is easier said than done; yea, it can only be done by God’s enabling. Usually, the Christian altogether fails to see why such a trouble is sent upon him; it seems to work harm and not good. Why this financial loss, when he was giving more to the Lord’s work? Why this breakdown in health, when he was being most used in His service? Why this removal of a Sabbath school teacher, just when he was most needed? why was my husband called away, when the children most required him? Yes, such afflictions are indeed grievous to the flesh.

But let it be pointed out that these reasonings are only “seeming.” The Christian, by grace, eventually triumphs. Faith looks up at the cloud (though it is often very late in doing so) and says, The chastisement was not as severe as it might have been, certainly it was not as severe as I deserved, and truly it was nothing in comparison to what the Savior suffered for me. O let faith expel carnal reason, and say, “For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.” But note carefully that this is only while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen” (2 Corinthians 4:17, 18). (For much in the above four points the writer acknowledges his indebtedness to a sermon by C.H. Spurgeon on the same verse).

“Nevertheless, afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby.” This is what the apostle sets over against the estimate of carnal reason and the feelings of our natural senses. Medicine may not be a pleasant thing to take, but if it be blest by God, the renewed health it gives is good compensation. The pruned vine at the end of the winter presents a sorry appearance to the eye, but its heavily-laden branches in the autumn vindicate the gardener’s efforts. Did not the “afterward” prove to Jacob that his doleful reasonings were quite unwarranted? Job squirmed under the rod, as well he might, but was not his end more prosperous than his beginning? Thank God for this “Nevertheless afterward.”

Yet this “afterward” is also a very searching word: it is one which should pierce and test each of us. Have we not all passed through sorrow? Can any of us look back on the past without recalling seasons of deep and heavy affliction? Has no sword pierced our souls? no painful sacrifice been demanded of us? But, my reader, do these experiences belong to the past in every sense? Have they gone, disappeared, without leaving any effects behind them? No, that is impossible: we are either the better or the worse because of them. Then ask yourself, What fruits have they produced? Have your past experiences hardened, soured, frozen you? Or have they softened, sweetened, mellowed you? Has pride been subdued, self-pleasing been mortified, patience developed? How have afflictions, chastisements, left us? What does the “afterward” reveal?

Not all men are the gainers by afflictions; nor are Christians so always. Many seek to flee from trials and troubles, instead of being “exercised” thereby. Others are callous and do not yield: as Hebrews 12:5 intimates, they “despised” the chastenings of the Lord. There are some who imagine that, when visited with affliction, it is a display of courage if they refuse to be affected. They count it weakness to mourn over losses and weep over sorrows. But such an attitude is altogether un-Christian. Christ wept and again and again we are told that He “groaned.” Such an attitude is also foolish to the last degree, for it is calculated to counteract the very design of afflictions, and only calls for severer ones to break our proud spirits. It is no mark of weakness to acknowledge that we feel the strokes of an Almighty arm.

It is the truest wisdom to humble ourselves beneath “the mighty hand of God.” If we are among His people, He will mercifully compel us to acknowledge that His chastenings are not to be despised and made light of. He will — and O how easily He can do it — continue or increase our afflictions until He tames our wild spirits, and brings us like obedient children into subjection to Himself. What a warning is found in Isaiah 9:9-11: “And all the people shall know, even Ephraim and the inhabitants of Samaria, that say in the pride and stoutness of heart, The bricks are fallen down, but we will build with hewn stones; the sycamores are cut down, but we will change them into cedars. Therefore the Lord shall set up the Adversaries of Rezin against him, and join his enemies together.”  This means that, because the people had hardened themselves under the chastening hand of God, instead of being “exercised” thereby, that He sent sorer afflictions upon them.

The ones benefited by the Father’s chastenings are they who are “exercised thereby.” The Greek word for “exercised” was borrowed from the gymnastic games. It had reference to the athlete stripping himself of his outer clothing. Thus, this word in our text is almost parallel with the “laying aside of every weight” in 5:1. If afflictions cause us to be stripped of pride, sloth, selfishness, a revengeful spirit, then “fruit” will be produced. It is only as we improve our chastenings, that we are gainers. The natural effect of affliction on an unsanctified soul is either to irritate or depress, which produces rebellion or sinking in despair. This is the result of hardness of heart and unbelief. Even with regard to the Christian it is true that, only as he views them as proceeding from his Father in order to bring him into subjection, and as he is “exercised thereby,” he is truly profited.

1. The conscience needs to be “exercised.” There must be a turning unto the Sender of our trials, and a seeking from Him of the meaning and message of them.  “There was a famine in the days of David three years, year after year; and David inquired of the Lord” (2 Samuel 21:1)! So should we when the providences of God frown upon us. There must be an honest self-examination, a diligent scrutiny of our ways, to discover what it is God is displeased with. Careful investigation will often show that much of our supposed godly zeal in service is but the result of habit, or the imitating of some eminent saint, instead of proceeding from the heart, and being rendered “unto the Lord.”

2. Prayer has to be “exercised” or engaged in. It is true that painful afflictions have a tendency to stifle the voice of supplication, that one who is smarting under the rod feels little inclination to approach the Throne of Grace, but this carnal disposition must be steadily resisted, and the help of the Holy Spirit definitely sought. The heavier our load, the more depressed our heart, the sorer our anguish, the greater our need to pray. God requires to be sought unto for grace to submit to His dealings, for help to improve the same, for Him to sanctify unto our good all that perplexes and distresses us.

3. The grace of meekness must be “exercised,” for “a meek and quiet spirit” is of “great price” in the sight of Him with whom we have to do (1 Peter 3:4). Meekness is the opposite of self-will and hardness of heart. It is a pliability of soul, which is ready to be fashioned after the Divine image. It is a holy submission, willing to be molded as the Heavenly Potter determines. There can be no “peaceable fruit of righteousness” until our wills are broken, and we have no mind of our own. How much we need to heed that word of Christ’s, “Take My yoke upon you, and learn of Me, for I am meek” (Matthew 11:29).

4. Patience must be “exercised.” Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him” (Psalm 37:7): “wait” for His time of deliverance, for if we attempt to deliver ourselves, we are very likely to plunge into deeper trials. Fruit is not ripened in a day; nor do the benefits of chastisements appear immediately. Patience must have her perfect work if the soul is to be enriched by afflictions. In the interval of waiting, allow nothing to deter your plodding perseveringly along the path of duty.

5. Faith must be “exercised.” God’s hand must be seen in every trial and affliction if it is to be borne with meekness and patience. While we look no further than the malice of Satan, or the jealousy, enmity, injustice of men, the heart will be fretful and rebellious. But if we receive the cup from the Father’s hand, our passions will be calmed and the inward tumult stilled. Only by the exercise of faith will the soul be brought into a disposition to quietly submit, and digest the lessons we are intended to learn.

6. Hope must be “exercised.” As faith looks upward and sees God’s hand in the trial, hope is to look forward and anticipate the gains thereof. Hope is a confident expectation of future good. It is the opposite of despair. Hope lays hold of the promised “Afterward,” and thus it sustains and cheers in the present. Hope assures the cast-down soul “I shall yet praise Him for the help of His countenance” (Psalm 42:5). “But the God of all grace, who hath called us unto His eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after that ye have suffered a while, make you perfect, establish, strengthen, settle you” (1 Peter 5:10).

7. Love must be “exercised.” It is the Father’s love which chastens us (verse 5); then ought not we to love Him in return for His care and patient training of us? Instead of doubting His wisdom or questioning His goodness, there should be an affectionate gratitude flowing out to the One who is seeking naught but our welfare. “We can never find any benefit in chastenings, unless we are exercised by them, that is, unless all our graces are stirred up by them to a holy, constant exercise” (John Owen) — how different that, from the fatalistic inertia of many hyper-Calvinists!

What we have sought to bring out above is the fact that spiritual “fruit” is not the natural or spontaneous effect of affliction. Nay, have we not observed that few of those who suffer severe financial reverses, heavy domestic bereavements, or personal bodily pain, are, spiritually, the gainers thereby? Yea, do we need to look any further than ourselves, to perceive how little we have learned by and profited from past trials? And the cause is plain: we were not duly exercised thereby. May this word abide with each of us for the future!

What is meant by “the peaceable fruit of righteousness?” If we took this expression by itself, it would signify the effects of righteousness, the fruit which righteousness itself brings forth. But in our text it is chastenings or afflictions which are specifically mentioned as producing this fruit. It is the Spirit tranquilizing and purifying the heart. “Righteousness” in our text is parallel with “His holiness” in verse 10. It may be summed up in the mortification of sin and the vivification of vital godliness. It is called the “peaceable fruit” because it issues in the taming of our wild spirits, the quieting of our restless hearts, the more firm anchoring of our souls. But this only comes when we truly realize that it is the Father’s love which has afflicted us. May the Spirit of God grant us all “exercised” hearts, so that we shall daily search ourselves, examine our ways, and be stripped of all that is displeasing to Him!

Would any Christian in his right mind dare to pray, “Let me not be afflicted, no matter what good it should do me?” And if he were unwilling and afraid to pray thus, why should he murmur when it so falls out? Alas, what a wide breach there is, usually, between our praying and the rest of our conduct. Again; if our rescuer dislocated our shoulder when pulling us out of the water in which we were drowning, would we be angry with him? Of course not. Then why fret against the Lord when He afflicts the body in order to better the soul? If God takes away outward comforts and fills us with inward peace, if he removes our worldly wealth but imparts to us more of the true riches, then, instead of having ground for complaint, we have an abundant cause for thanksgiving and praise. Then why should I fear to enter the dark shaft of tribulation if persuaded that it leads to the gold mines of spiritual experience.

In Scripture, afflictions are compared to fire that purges away the dross (1 Peter 1:7), to the fan which drives away the chaff (Matthew 3:12), to a pruning-hook which cuts off superfluous branches and makes more fruitful the others that remain (John 15:2), to physic that purges away poisonous matter (Isaiah 27:9), to plowing and harrowing the ground that it may be prepared to receive good seed (Jeremiah 4:3). Then why should we be so upset when God is pleased to use the fire upon us in order to remove our dross, to employ the fan so as to winnow away the chaff, to take the pruning-hook to lop off the superfluities of our souls, to give us physic to purge out our corruptions and filth, to drive the plow into us so as to break up our fallow ground and to destroy the weeds which grow in our souls? Should we not rather rejoice that He will not leave us alone in our carnality, but rather fit us to become partakers of His holiness?

A little child requires much coaxing (at times, something more!) in order to make him take his medicine. He may be very ill, and mother may earnestly assure him that the unpleasant potion will bring sure relief; but the little one cries out, “I cannot take it, it is so nasty.” But adults, generally, need not have the doctor argue and plead with them: they will swallow the bitterest remedy if convinced that it will do them good. The application of this to spiritual matters is obvious. Those Christians who are but spiritual babes fret and fume when called upon to endure Divine chastisement, knowing not the gains they will receive if it be accepted in the right spirit. But those who have grown in grace, and become men in Christ, who know that all things work together for good to them that love God, and who have learned by experience the precious fruits which issue from sanctified afflictions, accept from God the bitterest cup, and thank Him for it.

But alas, many of God’s people are but infants experimentally, and need much coaxing to reconcile them to the cup of trial. Therefore is it needful to present to our consideration one argument after another. Such is the case here in Hebrews 12: if one line of reasoning does not suffice, perhaps another will. The Christian is very skeptical and takes much convincing. We have heard a person say to one who claims he has done, or can do, some remarkable thing, “You must show me before I will believe you.”

Most of us are very much like that in connection with spiritual things. Though the Scriptures assure us, again and again, that chastisement proceeds from our Father’s love, and is designed for our good, yet we are slow, very slow, to really believe it. Therefore does the apostle here proceeds from one consideration to another so as to assure the hearts and establish the faith of his afflicted brethren upon this important subject. Oh that our hearts might be so taught by the Spirit, our understandings so enlightened, our faith so strengthened by Him, that we would be more grateful and increasingly thankful for the merciful discipline of our Father.

What a proof of His love is this, that in His chastening of us, His object is to bring us nearer Himself and make us more like His blessed Son. The more highly we prize health, the more willing are we to take that which would cure our sickness; and the more we value holiness (which is the health of our souls) the gladder shall we be for that which is a means to increase the same in us. We are on a low plane of spiritual experience, if we do nothing more than simply “bow” to God’s hand. Scripture says, “Giving thanks always, for all things unto God and the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Ephesians 5:20); and again it exhorts us “Rejoice in the Lord always” (Philippians 4:4).  We are to “glory in tribulation” (Romans 5:3), and we shall when we perceive more clearly and fully what blessed fruits are brought forth under the pruning knife.

“For they verily for a few days chastened us after their own pleasure; but He for our profit, that we might be partakers of His holiness” (v. 10). This is a continuation of what was before us in the previous verse. A further reason is given why Christians should be “in subjection unto” their heavenly Father, when His correcting rod is laid upon them. Not only is it becoming for them so to do, because of the relationship which exists between them: but it is also meet they should act thus, because of the gains they receive thereby. The consideration which the apostle now presents to the attention of the afflicted saints is really a double one.

First, the chastisement we received from our earthly parents had reference mainly to our good in this life, whereas the disciplinary dealings of our heavenly Father looks forward to the life to come (2 Corinthians 4:17).

Second, the chastisement of our earthly parents was often a matter of their caprice and sometimes issued from irritability of temper, but the rod of our heavenly Father is wielded by infinite goodness and wisdom, and has in view our well being.

We regard the words “for they verily for a few days chastened us” as referring not so much to the brief season of our childhood, but more to the fact that our parents had only our temporal interests in view: whereas God has our eternal welfare before Him. “The apostle seems to bring in this circumstance to contrast the dealings of earthly parents with those of God. One of the circumstances is that the corrections of earthly parents had a much less important object than those of God. They related to this life — a life so brief that it may be said to continue but a “few days.” Yet, in order to secure the benefit to be derived for so short a period from fatherly correction, we submitted without murmuring. Much more cheerfully ought we to submit to that discipline from the hand of our heavenly Father which is designed to extend its benefits through eternity” (A. Barnes).

The added words “after their own pleasure” or “as seemed good” to them, points another contrast between the disciplinary dealings of our earthly parents and those of our heavenly Father. In their infirmity, sometimes the rod was used upon us in a fit of anger, rather than from a loving desire to reform our manners. “Meaning that it was sometimes done arbitrarily, or under the influence of passion. This is an additional reason why we should submit to God. We submitted to our earthly parents, though their correction was sometimes passionate, and was designed to gratify their own pleasure rather than to promote our good. There is much of this kind of punishment in families; but there in none of it under the administration of God. ‘But He for our profit:’ never from passion, from caprice, from the love of power or superiority, but always for our good” (A. Barnes).

Now the particular contribution which our present verse makes to the subject of chastisement is, the apostle here makes known the general end or design of God in the same, namely “our profit.” And let it be pointed out that whatsoever He purposes must surely come to pass, for He will make the means He employs effectual unto the accomplishment of His end. Many are the blessings comprehended and various are the fruits produced through and by means of Divine chastisement. This word “for our profit” is a very embracing one, including the development of our characters, the enrichment of our spiritual lives, a closer conformity to the image of Christ. The same truth is found again in the “that we might be partakers of His holiness:” that our lusts might be mortified, our graces vivified, our souls sanctified. Whatever be the form, degree, or duration of our afflictions, all is ordered by infinite wisdom so as to secure this object. But to particularize: the benefits of Divine chastisement —

1. It weans us from the world. One of the greatest surprises of the writer’s Christian life in connection with his fellow-saints has been, not their ignorance, nor even their inconsistencies, but their earthliness, their reluctance to leave this world. As “strangers and pilgrims” we should be longing and yearning for our Heavenly Home; as those who are away from Him whom they love best, we should desire to “depart and be with Him” (Philippians 1:23). Paul did. Christ has promised to return for His people, yet how few of them are daily crying, “Even so, come, Lord Jesus.” How rarely we hear them saying, in the language of the mother of Sisera, “Why is His chariot so long in coming? why tarry the wheels of His chariot?’’

“And all the trials here we see

Should make us long to be with Thee.”

Scripture speaks of this world as a “dry and thirsty land, where no water is” (Psalm 63:1), and God intends for us to prove this in our experiences. His Word also affirms that this world is a “dark place” (2 Peter 1:19), and He means for us to discover that this is so. One would think that after the soul had once seen the King in His beauty, it would henceforth discover no attractions elsewhere. One would suppose that once we had quenched our thirst at the Fountain of living waters, we would no more want to drink from the unsatisfying and polluted cisterns of this world. Surely now that we have experienced a taste and foretaste of Heaven itself, we shall be repelled and nauseated by the poor husks this world has to offer. But alas! the “old man” is still in us, unchanged; and though Divine grace subdues his activities, still he is very much alive. It is because of this that we are called on to “crucify the flesh with its affections and lusts.” And this is not only an unpalatable, but a very hard task. Therefore does God in His mercy help us: help us by chastenings, which serve to loosen the roots of our souls downward and tighten the anchorhold of our hearts Heavenward.

This God does in various ways. Sometimes He causes us to lose our confidence in and draw us away from fellowship with worldings by receiving cruel treatment at their hands. “Come out from among them, and be ye separate” is the Lord’s word to His people. But they are slow to heed; oftentimes they must be driven out. So with worldly pleasures: God often makes the grapes of earthly joys bitter to our taste, so that we should no longer seek after them. It is earthly disappointments and worldly disillusionments which make us sigh for our Heavenly Home. While the Hebrews enjoyed the land of Goshen they were content: hard and cruel bondage was needed to make them ready to leave for the promised land. We were once familiar with a Christian who had formed a habit of meeting each worldly difficulty or trial to the flesh by saying, “This is only another nail in my coffin.” But that is a very gloomy way of viewing things: rather should the children of God say after each trial or affliction, “That severs another strand in the rope which binds me to this world, and makes me long all the more for Heaven.”

2. It casts us back the more upon God. By nature, we are filled with a spirit of independency. The fallen sons of Adam are like wild asses’ colts. Chastisement is designed to empty us of our self-sufficiency, to make us feel weakness and helplessness. If “in their affliction they will seek Me early” (Hosea 5:15), then surely afflictions are for our “profit.” Trials and troubles often drive us to our knees; sickness and sorrow make us seek unto the Lord. It is very noticeable in the four Gospels how rarely men and women that were in health and strength sought out Christ; it was trouble and illness which brought them to the great Physician. A nobleman came to Christ — why? Because his son was at the point of death. Jairus sought out the Master — why? Because his little daughter was so low. The Canaanitish woman interviewed the Lord Jesus — why? On behalf of her tormented daughter. The sisters of Lazarus sent a message to the absent Savior — why? Because their brother was sick.

Afflictions may be very bitter, but they are a fine tonic for the soul, and are a medicine which God often uses on us. Most vividly is this illustrated in Psalm 107 — read carefully verses 11 to 28. Note that it is when men are “brought down,” when they are “afflicted,” when they are “at their wits’ end” that they “cry unto the Lord in their trouble.” Yes, it is “trouble” which makes us turn unto the Lord, not in a mechanical and formal way, but in deep earnestness. Remember that it is the “effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man that availeth much.” When you observe that the fire in your room is getting dull, you do not always put on more coal, but simply stir with the poker; so God often uses the black poker of adversity in order that the flames of devotion may burn more brightly.

Ah, my brethren, all of us delight in being made to lie down in the “green pastures” and being led beside the “still waters;” yet it would not be for God’s glory nor for our own highest good to luxuriate spiritually at all times. And why not? Because our hearts would soon be more occupied with the blessings rather than with the Blesser Himself. Oftentimes the sheep have to be brought into the dry and desolate wilderness that they may be made more conscious of their dependency upon the Shepherd. May we not discern here one reason why some saints so quickly lose their assurance: they are occupied more with their graces or comfortable feelings than they are with the Giver of them. God is a jealous God, and will not tolerate idols in the hearts of His people. A sense of our acceptance in Christ is indeed a blessed thing, yet it becomes a hindrance if it be treasured more highly than the Savior Himself.

3. It makes the promises of God more precious to us. Trouble often acts on us like a sharp knife which opens the truth of God to us and our hearts unto the truth. Experience unlocks passages which were otherwise closed. There is many a text in the Bible which no commentator can helpfully expound to a child of God: it must be interpreted by experience. Paul wrote his profoundest epistles while in prison; John was “in tribulation” on Patmos when he received the Revelation. If you go down into a deep well or mine in the daytime, you will then see the shining of stars which were not visible from the earth’s surface; so God often brings us low in order that we may perceive the shining beauty of some of His comforting assurances. Note how Jacob, in Genesis 32, pleaded God’s promises when he heard that Esau was approaching with four hundred men! The promises of resurrection mean far more unto Christians when some of their loved ones have been removed by death. “When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned” (Isaiah 43:2) means far more to afflicted souls than it can to those who are not under the rod. So, too, the many “fear not” promises are most valued when our strength fails us and we are ready to sink under despair. As the late C.H. Spurgeon was wont to say, “There are some verses written, as it were, in a secret ink, which must be held before the fire of adversity before they become visible.”

There are many passages in Job, the Psalms, and the Lamentations of Jeremiah which do not appeal to one while the sun is shining; but which, in times of adversity, are like the welcome beams of the moon on a dark night. It was his painful thorn in the flesh which taught Paul the blessedness of that text, “My grace is sufficient for thee: for My strength is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9).

4. It qualifies us to sympathize with others. If we have never trod the vale of sorrow and affliction we are really unable to “weep with those that weep.” There are some surgeons who would be more tender if they had suffered from broken bones themselves. If we have never known much trouble, we can be but poor comforters to others. Even of our Savior it is written, “For in that He Himself hath suffered being tempted He is able to succor them that are tempted” (Hebrews 2:18). Bunyan could never have written the book which he did, unless God had permitted the Devil to tempt and buffet him severely for so many years. How clearly is all this brought out in 2 Corinthians 1:4: “Who comforteth us in all our tribulations, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.” Luther frequently said, “Three things make a good preacher: prayer, meditation, and temptation.”

5. It demonstrates to us the blessedness and sufficiency of Divine grace. “My grace is sufficient for thee, for My strength is make perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). But in order to prove this, we have to be brought into the place of severe testing and trial, and made to feel our own incompetency and nothingness. Brethren, if you have prospered in business all your lives, and have always had an easy time financially, then it is probable you know very little about God’s strength being perfected in your weakness. If you have been healthy all your lives and have never suffered much weakness and pain, then you are not likely to know much about the strength of God. If you have never been visited with trying situations which bring you to your wits’ end, or by heartrending bereavements, you may not have discovered much of the sufficiency of Divine grace. You have read about it in books, or heard others speak of it, but this is a very different thing from having an experimental acquaintance of it for yourself. It is much tribulation which brings out the sufficiency of God’s strength to support under the severest trials, and demonstrates that His grace can sustain the heart under the heaviest losses. It is in the stormiest weather that a captain gives most heed to the steering of his ship; so it is in seasons of stress and grief that Christians pay most attention to, “Let us therefore come boldly unto the Throne of Grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Hebrews 4:16). If Israel had journeyed directly to Canaan, they would have missed the tender care of Jehovah in the wilderness. If Lazarus had not died, Martha and Mary would not have received such a demonstration of Christ as the Resurrection and the Life. And if you, my brother, my sister, had not been cast into the furnace of affliction, you would not have known the nearness and preciousness of His presence with you there. Yes, God intends us to prove the reality and sufficiency of His grace.

6. It develops our spiritual graces. This is clearly set forth in that familiar passage Romans 5:3-5: “We glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope; and hope maketh not ashamed.” This “rejoicing” is not in tribulations considered in themselves, but because the Christian knows they are appointed by his Father, and because of their beneficial effects. Three of these effects or spiritual graces thus developed are here mentioned.

First, tribulation worketh “patience.” Patience never thrives except under buffetings and disappointments: it is not even called into exercise while things are going smoothly and pleasantly. Sanctified tribulations call into activity that strength and fortitude which is evidenced by a submissive endurance of suffering. The patience here referred to signifies deliverance from murmuring, refusing to take things into our own hands (which only causes additional trouble), a contented waiting for God’s time of deliverance, and a persevering continuance in the path of duty.

Second, patience worketh experience, that is a vital experience of the reality of what we profess; a personal acquaintance with that which before we knew only theoretically; an experience of the sufficiency of Divine grace to support and sustain; an experience of God’s faithfulness, that He is “a very present help in trouble”; an experience of the preciousness of Christ, such as the three Hebrews had in the furnace. The Greek word for “experience” also means “the obtaining of proof.” The patient submission which tribulation works in the saint proves both to him and to his brethren the reality of his trust in God: it makes manifest the fact that the faith which he professes is genuine. Instead of his faith being overcome, it triumphs. The test of a ship is to weather the storm; so it is with faith. Real faith ever says, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.”

Third, experience worketh hope. This is a grace which anticipates the future. While circumstances are as we like them, our outlook is mainly confined to the present: but sorrows and trials make us long for the future bliss. “As an eagle stirreth up her nest… so the Lord led Israel” (Deuteronomy 32:11, 12). God removes us from our comfortable resting places for the purpose of teaching us to use the wings of hope.

7. It brings us into fellowship with the sufferings of Christ. The cross is the symbol of Christian discipleship. Like the scars which the wounded soldier prizes above all other distinctions, so our sufferings are the proof of our oneness with Christ (Romans 8:17). Not only so, they make us appreciate the more what He endured for us. While we have plenty, we cannot properly estimate or appreciate the poverty which our Savior endured. While we enjoy a comfortable bed we cannot truly sympathize with Him who “had not where to lay His head.” It is not till some familiar friend, on whom we counted, has basely betrayed our trust that we can enter into something of what the Savior suffered through the perfidy of Judas. It is only when some brother has denied you that you begin to understand what Christ felt, when Peter denied Him. As we, in some small measure, obtain an experimental acquaintance with such trials, it makes Christ increasingly precious to us, and enables us to appreciate the more all that He went through on our behalf. In a coming day we are going to share His throne; now we are privileged to taste His cross.

If, then, trials and tribulations, under God, produce such delightful fruits, then welcome chastisements that are for “our profit.” Let the rains of disappointment come if they water the plants of spiritual graces. Let the winds of adversity blow if they serve to root more securely in grace the trees of the Lord’s planting. Let the sun of prosperity be eclipsed if this brings us into closer communion with the Light of life. Oh, brethren and sisters, however distasteful they are to the flesh, chastisements are not to be dreaded, but welcomed, for they are designed to make us “partakers of God’s holiness.”