A Sermon Delivered On Thursday Evening, June 17, 1880, By C. H. Spurgeon, At The Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. *4/22/2013
It is good for me that I have been afflicted; so that I might learn your statutes. [Ps 119:71]
It is good for me to draw near to God: I have put my trust in the
Lord God, so that I may declare all your works. [Ps 73:28]
For other sermons on this text:
[See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 288, “Let Us Pray” 280]
[See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 879, “Assuredly Good Thing, An” 870]
[See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 1629, “Two Good Things” 1629]
Exposition on Ps 73; 37:1-10 [See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 3368, “Fathomless” 3370 @@ "Exposition"]
Exposition on Ps 73 [See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 2387, “Good Advice for Troublous Times” 2388 @@ "Exposition"]
Exposition on Ps 73 [See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 3055, “Accomplices in Sin” 3056 @@ "Exposition"]
Exposition on Ps 73 [See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 3346, “Resurrection for the Just and the Unjust” 3348 @@ "Exposition"]
1. There is an old proverb which says, “When a man is forty he is either a fool or a physician”; that is to say, he either does not know anything or else be begins to know what is good for him. Some of us who are beyond that age think that we know in some measure what is good for us. We are not inclined to be very positive concerning what is good for other people; but there are one or two things in reference to ourselves of which we say very dogmatically, “They are good for me.” We have undergone such a sufficiency of investigation, experiment, and personal trial, that we are not in any fear of being contradicted; or if we should be, we put our foot down and defy the contradiction.
2. I am certain about these two things in my two texts and I believe there are many here who share my certainty. The first is, that whatever it may be for other people, “It is good for me to have been afflicted”; and the second is, that whatever it may be to other people, “It is good for me to draw near to God.” We assert this, not because we have been told so, but because of personal proof; and we assert it now, not as young beginners who are buckling on their harness, and who think themselves certain; but as those who have gone some distance in the pilgrimage of life, and know by actual test and matter of fact that it is even so.
3. Brethren, beloved, during our lives we have experienced many things which we know were not good for us. Some things have been obviously bad. Sin is always poisonous, whatever form it takes. Error is always injurious, however insidious may be its form, and however poetic may be the terms in which it is expressed. We pray God that we may have nothing to do with sin or with error, for these things cannot be good; they must be evil. We have also encountered certain things which at the time appeared to us to be good, and under some aspects might have been so; but we are not sure at the present moment whether they were good or not. We have enjoyed soft hours of ease which, perhaps, weakened us, or sunshiny times of high delight which in a measure turned our brain. There have been allotted to us times of learning in which we made great acquisitions of knowledge; but “knowledge puffs up,” and we were puffed up, we fear. There have been calms with us when the sea-birds sat upon the waters, and the seas were glassy as a lake, for the winds were hushed; but the calm was treacherous, and it bred ill savour and unhealthiness within our spirit. I am not sure, my friend, though you thought it to be a fine day when you grew rich — I am not sure that it was a good thing for you to be wealthy; for you have not been half so spiritually-minded or half so happy as you used to be. Yes, you entered into a much larger sphere, and you thought it was a noble thing. You almost rang the bells about it. Are you quite sure that it was good for you? Are you as good a man in the great sphere as you were in the little one? Do you live as near to God now, with that great business to handle, as you did when your hat covered your whole estate, and you went to bed at night with no fear of robbers, for you had nothing to lose? Much that seems good is only good in the seeming. As for the two things before us in our texts, we have no question about them. We know that it is good for us that we have been afflicted; we know that it is good for us that we should draw near to God. We will talk about these undoubted jewels, and may God grant that our talk may be profitable.
4. I. Turning to Ps 119:71, we will talk about that good thing first: AFFLICTION HAS BEEN GOOD FOR US. “It is good for me that I have been afflicted; so that I might learn your statutes.”
5. I repeat what I said just now: every man must speak for himself; we are not sure that affliction is good for everyone. Some people have been soured by affliction. They fell into trouble and they rebelled against God; and so the trouble did not work in them any permanent good; it rather developed their combative tendencies, and ever since they have remained hostile towards other men, compelling others to defend themselves against them. I have known individuals in a family who seemed to have a spite against everyone they saw, simply because they were disappointed in early life, or had made a venture and sustained a loss. They grew sour, they keep sour, and they grow even more sour every day, until one wonders what strength of vinegar will yet flow through their veins. It is not good for some people to have been afflicted at all, and yet it is not the fault of the affliction; it is the fault of the people afflicted. It might have produced in them a splendid character if all had been right to begin with; but, inasmuch as all was wrong, that very process which should have ripened them into sweetness has hastened them to rottenness. That same thing which in gracious souls has produced everything that is pure and lovely, has in others produced everything that is malicious and envious. I hope, however, that I may say of many present here, or that they can say of themselves, “It is good for me that I have been afflicted.” The enquiry is, — How has it been good?
6. First, it has been good in connection with many other good things. It has acted as a counterweight with reference to the great blessings which God has bestowed upon us in other ways. We are so constituted that we cannot handle very much prosperity. Some men might have been rich, but God knew they could not bear it, and so he has never permitted them to be tempted above what they are able to bear. Others might have been famous, but they would have been ruined by pride, and so the Lord in tender mercy has withheld from them an opportunity of distinguishing themselves, denying them this apparent advantage for their real good. Where God favours any man with prosperity he will send a corresponding amount of affliction to go with it, and deprive it of its injurious tendencies. I have seen men walking upon the high places of the earth until their brain turned and they fell, and there was woe in the church of God. I have seen others whom God has placed on a lofty pinnacle; but at the same time he has almost crushed them between the upper and the nether millstone of sharp spiritual trouble, or domestic suffering, or physical pain. Many have asked, “Why is this?” and the reason has been that their suffering was a counterweight to their success. God’s servant would have slipped with his feet if it had not been for the secret chastenings that he endured. I ask some of you whom God has greatly favoured. You have looked upon your prosperity as a blessing, but you have wondered why you should be tried at the same time: it was because you could not have borne the favour if you had not received the chastening. You were glad for the sail, and glad for the wind that filled it; but you could not understand why the ballast was put into your hold; you thought it hindered your progress. My friend, you would have been blown out of the water if it had not been for the ballast which kept you where you ought to be. I, for my part, owe more, I think, to the anvil and to the hammer, to the fire and to the file, than to anything else. I bless the Lord for the correctives of his providence by which, if he has blessed me on the one hand with sweets, he has blessed me on the other hand with bitters. To me he has measured out a double blessing — the lamb, and the bitter herbs to eat with it; seldom is the one without the other.
7. So “It is good for me to have been afflicted” — good as a corrective for other goods.
8. It is good, dear friends, to have been afflicted as a cure for evils existent within our nature. David says, “Before I was afflicted I went astray; but now I have kept your word.” That is the case with many of God’s servants. They were prone to one particular temptation, and though they may not have seen it, the chastening hand of God was aimed at that special weakness of their character. We sometimes talk about phrenology, and the bumps on one’s head; and you may make a great many mistakes over that matter, but God knows your tendencies and faculties. He knows the characteristics of his children accurately — far more accurately than any science can ever tell them, and he deals with extraordinary wisdom and prudence towards each one of his family. I suppose that, when the biographies of the saints are all read by the light of eternity, we, even we, shall be able to see why the painful career of certain Christians could not have been other than it was if they were to get to heaven at last: we shall see why that unusual trial was sent, and sent when they seemed least able to bear it. We shall discover that God interposed the screen of trial against the unseen fiery arrow which only his eternal eye discovered, and laid the weight just where Satan was about to put the hand to overthrow, that very weight adding power to stand for the man who, in the lightness of his heart, had otherwise been tripped up. It is all well, brother; it is all well. The surgery which is cutting so deep — the knife which is cutting to the very quick — is only reaching to the point where the mischief lies. That mischief must come out, root and branch. There is a cancer of evil tendency within us, and not a rootlet of it must be left; for, if the least fibre of it is allowed to remain through tenderness it will be an unkind tenderness; for the cancer will grow back again, and fill the heart with its malevolence. Therefore the Lord out of love cuts deep: sharp and cruel are his wounds. They seem most cruel when they are in greatest tenderness of grace. We do not yet know all the mischief that is in us. I would undertake in five minutes to make any perfect man prove to himself that he was not perfect. Only let me set certain people upon him to tease him, and we shall soon see his irritation. Let the devil loose on a man who is very near the threshold of heaven, and you will soon find that corruption dwells even in the hearts of the regenerate. The Lord would have us aware of this, and therefore he often sends trial to reveal the hidden evil. We are often like a glass of water which has been standing still for hours, and looks very clear and bright; but there is a sediment, and a little stir soon reveals it, and clouds the crystal; that sediment is the old nature. Trial comes and arouses into activity what had been lying still, and we say, “Dear me, I had no idea that such evil was in my heart.” Of course you had not. You who live so comfortably at home among Christian friends do not know how sinful you are; you hear of people out in the world doing this and that, and you say, “What naughty folks they are.” They are no worse than you would be if you were put into the same position, only you are at ease and they are severely tempted. Dogs sleep when no one enters the house; but a knock at the door will set them barking.
9. The Lord does not wish us to boast of sham holiness, and therefore he sends us trials that we may see the mischief which lurks in our hearts, and that we may be driven to the Holy Spirit for power to conquer our sin, and to the cleansing blood of Jesus Christ for the real taking away of guilt. He who has struggled with his inward sins must know that he has been helped both to discover and to overcome many of them by his afflictions; and so in this sense it is good that he has been afflicted. “Foolishness is bound in the heart of a child; but the rod of correction shall drive it far from him”; if this is so, we may not only bear the rod, but even kiss it.
10. Affliction is also useful to God’s people as an actual producer of good things in them. Some virtues cannot be produced in us — at least, I do not see how they can be — apart from affliction. One of them is patience. If a man has no trial, how is he to be patient? We all think we are patient when we have nothing to bear. We can all stand on the mountain tops before we have tried those dizzy heights, and we are all brave when the war is over, though things look rather different when bullets whistle past our ears. When we are thrown into the sea our swimming abilities are not quite as extraordinary as we thought they were. We have great notions of what we can do; but trial is the test. Patience, I think, can scarcely be said to be in a man unless he has endured tribulation, “for tribulation works patience.” A veteran warrior is the child of battles, and a patient Christian is the offspring of adversity.
11. There is a very sweet grace called sympathy, which is seldom found in people who have had no trouble. We are told that our dear Lord and Master himself learned sympathy by being tempted in all points like we are. He had to feel our infirmities, or else he could not have been touched with a fellow feeling towards us. It is surely so with us. I have stayed sometimes with an admirable brother who never had, he told me, an ache or a pain since he was born that he remembers; he is a man of fifty, and in splendid health. Well, he tries to sympathize with people, and he does do it to the utmost of his power, but it makes you smile. It is like an elephant picking up a pin. It is a wonderful feat for him to do. He does not understand it. You know yourself how hard it is to get sympathy out of those who have never endured a trial similar to your own. Someone goes to see a widow, and talks to her about her grief, and she says to herself all the time, “What does he know about it? He has never lost the partner of his life.” A bachelor speaks to a dear soul who has just buried her little child. Unless he is a very wise man he is apt to say something about children which will irritate rather than console the bereaved mother. You may try your best, but you do not have much of the faculty of sympathy unless you have been in the trial. It is by passing through the fire that we know how to deal with people who are in the furnace. So we may thank God that we have been afflicted, if we are ministers, or if we are teachers of others. We sometimes have to suffer, not for our own sake, but for the sake of others, so that we may be enabled to speak a word in season to him who is weary, and say to him, “I know your road. I have been that way before. I know the darkness and weariness of the way.” Pilgrims who are enduring the ills of the wilderness take heart when they see a fellow traveller to whom all these are common things.
12. Again, it is good for me to have been afflicted because affliction is a wonderful quickener. We are very apt to go to sleep; but affliction often wakes us up. A coachman driving a pair of horses was noticed by one who sat on the box-seat to give a cut of the whip to the off horse. [a] The animal was going on quite regularly and properly, and it seemed a needless cruelty to whip it. Another journey, and he was observed to do just the same just at that place, and the question was asked, “I always notice that you give that horse a cut of the whip just here, — why is it?” “Well, sir, he has a nasty habit of shying just at this place,” said the driver, “and I take his attention off by making him think of the whip for a moment.” There is something in that, brethren. Every now and then you and I are apt to shy, and an affliction takes our attention away from temptation. There is also another danger in a life of ease: we are far too apt to go to sleep. Like horses, we are apt to get into the way of going on at a regular trot until we move mechanically and pursue our way half asleep. I do not know whether we are all awake even now. Many ministers preach asleep. I am sure they do. Many deacons do all the church business asleep; and numbers of people come to the prayer meetings and pray in their sleep. I do not mean physical sleep, but I mean spiritual sleep, which is quite as serious a matter. The entirety of some men’s religion is a kind of sleep-walking. There is no vigour in it, there is no heart in it, there is no earnestness in it, though there ought to be. They need to be awakened by something startling. Our trials and afflictions are intended to do this. They come like a clap of thunder, and startle us until we ask, “Where am I? What am I doing?” And we begin to question ourselves, “Am I really what I profess to be?” Death stares us in the face. We are put into the balance and weighed and tried; we try our hopes and professions, and are less likely to be self-deceived. Realities become realities, and fancies become fancies, when sharp trials befall us. The things of this world become dreams to us when keen affliction comes, and so it is of special benefit to us because, under the Spirit of God, it is awakening and arousing.
13. Again, according to our text, it is good for us to have been afflicted by way of instruction. “It is good for me to have been afflicted; so that I might learn your statutes.” Trial is our school where God teaches us on the blackboard. This school-house has no windows to let in the cheerful light. It is very dark, and so we cannot look out and get distracted by external objects; but God’s grace shines like a candle within, and by that light we see what otherwise we would never have seen. I stand on the same level as my fellow men in the daylight, and I cannot see the stars; the glare of day hides them; but if I am made to go down the deep well of affliction, I look up, and there are the stars visible above my head. I see what others cannot see. I get the Bible; and its promises seem written as men sometimes write with juice of lemon, in invisible characters; I hold the book before the fire of affliction, and the writing comes out clearly, and I see in the Bible what otherwise I would never have seen if it had not been for fiery trials. The word of promise must be precious, for God gave it; but I get into trial myself, and there I test it, and I become personally assured of its preciousness. We learn, I hope, something in the bright fields of joy; but I am more and more persuaded that we do not learn a tenth so much there as we do in the Valley of the Shadow Death. There the world loses its charms, and we are obliged to look away to God; there illusions and delusions pass away, and we are compelled to rest on the eternal Rock; there we learn the truth in such a way that we never forget or doubt it. I wish that some young preachers were plagued all the day long, and chastened every morning so that they might become sound in the faith. I could wish that some of God’s people were plunged into a sea of tribulation, so that they might get rid of the modern nonsense which delights them now, and come back to the old, substantial doctrines of the Puritans, which are the only things worth having when we come to suffer or to die. Yes, it is good for me to have been afflicted. Is it not good for you too, dear friends, in the way of holy education, teaching you God’s word, and the value and the preciousness of it?
14. II. I cannot, however, speak any longer upon the virtues of affliction; for I want two or three minutes to dwell upon the truth that, DRAWING NEAR TO GOD HAS BEEN GOOD FOR US. Turn to the seventy-third psalm at the last verse — “It is good for me to draw near to God.” Here, again, we speak with great certainty. Come, brothers and sisters, is it not good for you to draw near to God? But what does this drawing near to God mean?
15. First, to feel that God is near us — to be conscious of his presence; to feel, next, that we are perfectly reconciled to him by the death of his Son, and that we are permitted to speak with him as a man speaks with his friend, and in speaking to him to praise him for what we have received, and to ask him for what we need. We draw near him when we tell him what we feel, and assure him of our belief in his great love. You know what it is to draw near to your friend and to have heart to heart conversation with him. Then you and the beloved one are quite alone, and have no secrets. You tell all your own secrets, and you learn all that your beloved has to tell. This is drawing near to God — when the secret of your heart is with God, and the secret of the Lord is with you; when he speaks to you by the Word and you speak to him by prayer; when you confess sin and he grants forgiveness; when you spread your needs before him and he assures you of abundant supplies. Now, is this not good? Is it not pleasant? Is it not enriching? Does it not raise the soul up above the world? Is it not a very good and profitable thing, so that we may say of it emphatically, “It is good for me to draw near to God?”
16. One good thing that comes out of it is mentioned in the text. Observe: “I have put my trust in the Lord God.” The nearer you get to God the more you will be able to trust him. An unknown God is an untrusted God. “Those who know your name will put their trust in you.” Those who have had the most dealings with God believe the most in him. You who begin with him try to trust him; but those who have dealt with him for long feel that they do trust him, and cannot help it. What is faith in God, brethren, but common sense? though, like common sense, it is the most unusual and most uncommon thing in all the world. To trust in one who must be true is a common sense proceeding; and to trust my God who cannot lie is the dictate of true reason. To make him, who is the greatest fact and the greatest factor, to be in my life both the greatest factor and the greatest fact, and to act as believing him to be real, this is prudence. I urge you, draw near to God, so that faith may become for you the mainspring of your life, the new common sense of your instructed spiritual nature. I rejoice in a faith that will go with me into everything. Sunday-keeping faith, meeting-going faith, if it ends there, is a pretty piece of confectionery; but faith about my pain, my poverty, my despondency, my old age — that is faith. I want to see a more hardy, practical, workable faith abroad in the land. Look at Abraham’s faith. I know it was spiritual, and so do you; but what did it have to deal with? It had to deal with the birth of a child, with seeking a city, with cattle, with land, and the events of everyday life. That is the kind of faith you and I need — Monday faith, and Tuesday faith, and Wednesday faith; faith that will go into the kitchen; faith that will live in the workshop with you who are bookbinders, when the other girls laugh at you; faith that will be with you men who are in the workshop where others use foul language; faith that can cheer a sailor in a storm; faith that can help a dying man in the hospital, — household faith, everyday faith. This is only to be had by drawing near to God. Get very close to him, in deed and in truth, the very life of you living upon the life of God, and then faith will enter into your daily life. You will put your trust in God as your constant helper if you constantly draw near to him.
I desire to bear my witness in the last words of this psalm — “I have
put my trust in the Lord God, so that I may declare all your works.”
My first text, as far as it relates to a preacher, shows how he is
taught it in private. “It is good for me that I have been afflicted;
so that I might learn your statutes”: my second text, as far as it
relates to the preacher, shows how he is helped to preach in
public, — “It is good for me to draw near to God: I have put my trust
in the Lord God, so that I may declare all your works.” To be able to
speak of God’s works to others is no small gift, and you gain it by
trusting in God yourself, finding his promise to be true, and then
bearing witness to others. Draw near to God, and have communion with
him, and then come down from the mount and speak with the people,
believing what you say, and expecting God to bless it to those who
hear it. That is the way to preach; and I pray that every one of us
who opens his mouth for God may do it in this way. It is not merely
what is in the Bible that we have to set before the people, but what
we ourselves have tasted and felt of the good word of truth
practically; declaring Jesus Christ in the power of his resurrection
as we know it in our own hearts. We cannot do this except by intimate
personal fellowship with God. You, dear friends, who are engaged in
teaching, cannot learn the truth without some measure of affliction,
and you cannot proclaim it in the right spirit without a large
measure of drawing near to God. Then you can say, “This poor man
cried, and the Lord heard him.” You can say, “One thing I know,
whereas I was blind, now I see.” You can say, “I sought the Lord, and
he helped me.” There is a convincing power about such personal
testimony. Then it is not only Christ’s word that God blesses, but it
is your word too. “Oh,” you say, “dare you say that?” Yes, Jesus
himself said, “Neither do I pray for these alone, but for those also
who shall believe on me through their word.” They themselves took
the word from Christ just as they took the bread out of Christ’s
hands when he fed the multitude: it was Christ’s word just as it was
Christ’s bread until they got it, but as soon as they had once
received the bread it became Peter’s bread, and John’s bread, and
James’s bread, and they handed it out, and the people fed on it; so
the word became “their word” when they personally accepted it, and
afterwards passed it to others. It was all Christ’s, and yet it was
theirs. And you must get the bread into your own hands; you must
taste it for yourself; you must break it for yourself, or else you
will not be likely to be blessed with living power among the sons of
men. Now, let us join in thanking God, if he has afflicted us, and if
he has drawn us near to himself; and let us go out, not to ask for
afflictions — that would be unwise — but to accept them hopefully when
they come. Let us draw near to God tonight, and let us not go to our
beds until we have seen the face of the Well-Beloved. This shall be
my vesper song: —
Sprinkled afresh with pardoning blood,
I lay me down to rest,
As in the embraces of my God,
Or on my Saviour’s breast.
[Portion Of Scripture Read Before Sermon — Ps 73]
[See Spurgeon_Hymnal “Spirit of the Psalms — Psalm 46” 46 @@ "(Version 2)"]
[See Spurgeon_Hymnal “The Christian, Privileges, Communion with Jesus — At Home Everywhere With Jesus” 778]
[See Spurgeon_Hymnal “The Christian, Privileges, Support in Affliction — ‘As Thy Day, Thy Strength Shall Be’ ” 745]
[a] Off horse: Of horses and vehicles: opposed to the near side, on which the driver walks, the rider mounts, and the passenger enters a vehicle. OED.
Spirit of the Psalms
Psalm 46 (Version 1)
1 God is the refuge of his saints,
When storms of sharp distress invade;
Ere we can offer our complaints,
Behold him present with his aid.
2 Let mountains from their seats be hurl’d
Down to the deep, and buried there;
Convulsions shake the solid world,
Our faith shall never yield to fear.
3 Loud my the troubled ocean roar,
In sacred peace our souls abide;
While every nation, every shore,
Trembles, and dreads the swelling tide.
4 There is a stream whose gentle flow
Supplies the city of our God:
Life, love, and joy, still gliding through,
And watering our divine abode.
5 That sacred stream, thine holy Word,
That all our raging fears controls:
Sweet peace thy promises afford,
And give new strength to fainting souls.
6 Sion enjoys her Monarch’s love,
Secure against a threat’ning hour;
Nor can her firm foundations move,
Built on his truth, and arm’d with power.
Isaac Watts, 1719.
Psalm 46 (Version 2.)
1 God is our refuge and our strength,
In straits a present aid:
Therefore, although the earth remove,
We will not be afraid.
2 Though hills amidst the seas be cast;
Though waters roaring make,
And troubled be; yea, though the hills
By swelling seas do shake.
3 A river is, whose streams do glad
The city of our God;
The holy place, wherein the Lord
Most high hath his abode.
4 God in the midst of her doth dwell;
Nothing shall her remove:
The lord to her an helper will,
And that right early, prove.
5 Our God, who is the lord of hosts,
Is still upon our side;
The God of Jacob, our defence
For ever will abide.
Scotch Version, 1641, a.
Psalm 46 (Version 3)
1 God is our refuge, tried and proved,
Amid a stormy world:
We will not fear though earth be moved,
And hills in ocean hurl’d.
2 The waves may roar, the mountains shake,
Our comforts shall not cease;
The Lord his saints will not forsake;
The Lord will give us peace.
3 A gentle stream of hope and love
To us shall ever flow;
It issues from his throne above,
It cheers his church below.
4 When earth and hell against us came,
He spake, and quell’d their powers;
The Lord of hosts is still the same,
The God of grace is ours.
Henry Francis Lyte, 1834.
The Christian, Privileges, Communion with Jesus
778 — At Home Everywhere With Jesus
1 Oh thou, by long experience tried,
Near whom no grief can long abide;
My Love! how full of sweet content
I pass my years of banishment!
2 All scenes alike engaging prove
To souls impress’d with sacred love!
Where’er they dwell, they dwell in thee!
In heaven, in earth, or on the sea.
3 To me remains no place nor time;
My country is in every clime;
I can be calm and free from care
On any shore, since God is there.
4 While place we seek or place we shun,
The soul finds happiness in none;
But with a God to guide our way,
‘Tis equal joy to go or stay.
5 Could I be cast where thou art not,
That were indeed a dreadful lot;
But regions none remote I call,
Secure of finding God in all.
Jeanne Marie Guyon, 1722;
tr. by William Cowper, 1801.
The Christian, Privileges, Support in Affliction
745 — “As Thy Day, Thy Strength Shall Be”
1 Afflicted soul, to Jesus dear,
Thy Saviour’s gracious promise hear;
His faithful word declares to thee
That, “as thy day, thy strength shall be.”
2 Let not thy heart despond, and say,
How shall I stand the trying day?
He has engaged, by firm decree,
That, “as thy day, thy strength shall be.”
3 Should persecution rage and flame,
Still trust in thy Redeemer’s name;
In fiery trials thou shalt see
That, “as thy day, thy strength shall be.”
4 When call’d to bear the weighty cross,
Or sore affliction, pain, or loss,
Or deep distress, or poverty,
Still, “as thy day, thy strength shall be.”
5 When ghastly death appears in view,
Christ’s presence shall thy fears subdue;
He comes to set thy spirit free;
And “as thy day, thy strength shall be.”
James Fawcett, 1782.