1701. Gladness For Sadness

No. 1701-29:37. A Sermon Delivered On Lord’s Day Morning, January 14, 1883. By C. H. Spurgeon, At The Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington.

Make us glad according to the days when you have afflicted us, and the years when we have seen evil. Let your work appear to your servants, and your glory to their children. And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us: and establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, the work of our hands establish it. {Ps 90:15-17}

For other sermons on this text:
   {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 1701, “Gladness for Sadness” 1702}
   {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 3142, “Established Work” 3143}
   Exposition on Ps 90; 119:21-32 {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 3388, “Soul Threshing” 3390 @@ "Exposition"}
   Exposition on Ps 90; 142 {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 3142, “Established Work” 3143 @@ "Exposition"}
   Exposition on Ps 90 {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 3030, “Consistent Walk for Time to Come, A” 3031 @@ "Exposition"}
   Exposition on Ps 90 {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 3414, “Brief Life is Here Our Portion” 3416 @@ "Exposition"}

1. To understand this psalm you must observe its black border. Remember the sorrows of Moses, the man of God, who saw a whole generation die in the wilderness, and was himself denied admission to the promised land. The man Moses was greatly afflicted; I might almost call him, as far as his life in the wilderness was concerned, “A man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.” He dug the desert until it became a cemetery, for he lived amid forty years of funerals. This Ninetieth Psalm is saturated with the griefs of a sentenced generation, by whom it could be truly said, “We are consumed by your anger, and by your wrath we are troubled.” We have in our own case as a church and people a double black border to surround our text this morning; for death has despoiled us a second time. We were last Wednesday burying our honoured deacon, William Higgs, and at the moment of our meeting for that solemn purpose another greatly esteemed deacon, William Mills, {a} was suddenly stricken down with paralysis, to linger for a few hours and then to breathe out his soul to God. I shall not trust myself to speak about him, for this double loss has to a great extent unnerved me; but this I must say, that he was an experienced and mature Christian, and also a quiet, diligent, loving, gracious servant of our common Master, whose care was the poor of the church, to whom he distributed our alms with discretion and tenderness. It was pleasant to hear from him the story of his Christian experience. His was a calm and lowly walk. Recently, being weakly, he was much at home, and there the Psalms of David, and the Morning and Evening Portions were his comfort. He was always a source of strength to his pastor and his brethren, always of great service to the church, far more so than most of our people will ever know: but recently he matured and mellowed into an unusual sweetness and spirituality. My last interview with him gave me a high idea of his thorough composure, and his perfect preparedness to commune with the glorified host above. He is gone — gone happily and safely home. He had no pain or struggle, but gradually melted into life eternal. To us who remain one sorrow has succeeded by another, to keep our wound bleeding and smarting. How well did Moses pray, “Return, oh Lord, how long? and have compassion on your servants.” Oh that our God would no more put his hand into the bitter box, as Herbert calls it, but now change his providences and revive the spirit of his contrite ones. On our part, just as we are made to sympathise with the man of God in this psalm, so let us imitate his example. Like him in multiplied bereavements, let us be like him in grace and faith.

2. Observe, that the first word of this painful psalm is, “Lord, you have been our dwelling-place”; as if, touched by the rod, the sufferer remembered his Father. Will the hypocrite always call upon God? No, but when God deals roughly with him he will kick against the pricks. But the child of God when he is struck turns to the hand that struck him, and cries, “Show me why you contend with me?” If foxes and wolves are prowling about, and the shepherd’s dog appears, they flee here and there as far away as they can; but when the dog is sent after the sheep he fetches them back to the shepherd. Trouble drives away the carnal man from his pretended religion; but it gathers the true sheep together, and, being troubled and alarmed, they seek the Good Shepherd. The more of grief we feel the more of grace we need, and the nearer to our Comforter we come. Closer to God! is the cry of the troubled saint.

   Nearer, my God, to thee!
      Nearer to thee!
   E’en though it be a cross
      That raiseth me;
   Still all my cry shall be,
   Nearer, my God, to thee!
      Nearer to thee!

Observe also that this psalm is “a prayer of Moses”: the comfort of a child of God in the darkness is prayer. Adversity, blessed by the Holy Spirit, calls our attention to the promise; the promise quickens our faith; faith betakes itself to prayer; God hears and answers our cry. This is the chain of a tried soul’s experience. Brethren, as we suffer the tribulation, as we know the promise, let us immediately exercise faith, and turn in prayer to God; for surely any man who turned to God found that the Lord also turned to him. If we start praying we may depend on it the Lord will start blessing. Blessings are on the way from heaven — their shadow falls upon us even now. I desire at this time to stir you up to a joyful expectancy. These clouds mean rich, refreshing showers. These sharp frosts foretell heavy sheaves. The Lord by the divine Spirit make the words of our text to be our prayer this morning! May the Lord Jesus present our supplication to the Father.

3. The petition seems to me to be, first, for proportionate gladness: “Make us glad according to the days when you have afflicted us, and the years in when we have seen evil.” And, secondly, our prayer is for particular gladness, a gladness which is described in the sixteenth and seventeenth verses: “Let your work appear to your servants, and your glory to their children. And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us: and establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, the work of our hands establish it.”

4. I. First, then, beloved friends, our prayer this morning as a church and people should be for PROPORTIONATE GLADNESS; that our God who has filled one scale with grief would fill the other scale with grace until they balance each other. Inasmuch as he has poured out of his vial certain drops of wormwood, we pray him to measure out the same quantity of the consolation of love, by which our hearts shall be comforted. May our covenant God, who has chastened us heavily, now revive us graciously.

5. We begin here by noticing that evidently the prayer desires a gladness of the same origin as the sadness. The psalm plainly ascribes the sadness to the Lord: “You turn man to destruction; and say, ‘Return, you children of men.’ ” “We are consumed by your anger, and we are troubled by your wrath.” God is seen in bereavements; death comes distinctly at his command; second causes are left behind. Since we have a distinct idea that the sadness comes from God, our text expresses an equally distinct desire that the gladness may come from God. We ask for divine comfort under divine chastening. The words of the prayer are eminently simple and childlike, — “Make us glad.” They seem to say, “Father! You have made us sad; now make us glad! You have saddened us grievously; now therefore, oh Lord, most heartily make us rejoice.” The prayer as good as cries, “Lord, no one but yourself can make us glad under such affliction, but you can bring us up from the lowest depths. The wound goes too near the heart for any human physician to heal us; but you can heal us even to making us glad!”

6. The prayer is full of buoyant hope; for it does not merely say, “Comfort us; bear us up; keep our heads above water; prevent us from sinking in despair”: no; but “Make us glad.” Reverse our state: lift us up from the depths to the heights. “Make us glad!” I hear the music of hope drowning the discord of fear; the songs of a joyful faith rising above the mournful dirges of grief.

7. The appeal is to the Lord alone. Moses entreats Jehovah himself to kindle the lamps of joy within the tabernacles of Israel. It is healthy sadness which the Lord sends, and it is equally safe gladness which God gives. If we make ourselves merry we may be mere mimics of mirth if outward goods make us merry we may be no better than the rich fool in the parable; but if our God makes us glad we may take our fill of delight, and fear no evil consequences. The wine of the Kingdom cheers, but never intoxicates: the bread of God strengthens, but never fills to excess. Neither pride, nor worldliness, nor carelessness comes when feasting at the table of our God. Come, then, let us together breathe this prayer: “Make us glad!” Let us paraphrase the expression like this, “Lord, you are the maker of all things, make us glad! By your word you made the light; make light for us! You will newly make these worn-out skies and much polluted earth; come, then, and make us anew, and restore to us the joy of your salvation!” The parallel lies much in the source to which both sadness and gladness are ascribed. Lord, make both our summers and our winters, our calms and our storms; for everything is good which comes from you, and it is our joy that our times are in your hand.

8. But now notice that a proportion is insisted on: “Make us glad according to the days when you have afflicted us, and the years when we have seen evil.” This is an original prayer, full of thought and hope. Truly also it is a philosophical prayer; one which is in accordance with the harmonies of nature, and consonant with all the ways of God. I have been told on the Scottish lakes that the depth of the lake is almost always the same as the height of the surrounding hills; and I think I have heard that the same is true of the great ocean; so that the greatest depth is probably the same as the greatest height. Doubtless, the law or equilibrium is revealed in a thousand ways. Take an example in the adjustment of days and nights. A long night reigns over the north of Norway; in these wintry months they do not even see the sun: but notice and admire their summer; then the day banishes the night altogether, and you may read your Bible by the light of the midnight sun. Long wintry nights find compensation in a perpetual summer day. There is a balance about the conditions of the peoples of differing lands: each country has its drawbacks and its advantages. I believe it is so with the life of God’s people: in it also the Lord maintains a balance. “Just as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation also abounds by Christ.” Some the great Father permits to be little in Israel; they are none the less dear to him for that. Such are like the minnow which swims in a pond proportional to its size: no great tempest sweeps over the tiny streamlet, its ruffles and its calms suit its little inhabitants. Another of God’s children is made for wide service; he may be compared to leviathan, for whom an ocean is prepared; with billows, tempests, hurricanes, in due proportion. The great Architect draws everything to scale: while some lives are wisely arranged upon a small scale, others are fashioned for wider spheres and made to do business on the great waters; these have greater tribulations, but they have also greater consolations. God knows how to manage for us all, and each one of us has a place in his thoughts. Wisdom allots each one his talent and his work, his strength and his trial. What would a sparrow do with an eagle’s wing? Given the eagle’s wing and the eagle’s eye, there must be a soaring up above the Alps, a companionship with winds and lightnings. To the tiny hummingbird God appoints no flight into the upper air, but allots it flowers and sunshine nearer the ground. He knows the way of his people, and his love is over all.

9. The good Lord measures out the dark and the light in due proportions, and the result is life sad enough to be safe, and glad enough to be desirable. I do not believe that our mortal life is properly described by the Thane’s parable, when he said to the Saxon king, “Have you seen, oh king, when you are sitting in your hall, and the fires are lit, and the lamps are burning, how the sparrow comes flying out of the thick darkness, passes through the window, glides into the bright and cheerful light, and then flits out again into the darkness? Such is our life — an interval of light amid a long darkness.” It is not so. If a believer flits out of the light he glides into the light again; if we traverse a stretch of darkness we may expect an equal breadth of brightness. If today we sail a stormy main we may hope tomorrow that the sea will be as glass. We have our changes, but the preponderance of life is not to misery. Rainy days are many, and yet in the long run they are outnumbered by the seasons of fair weather. God makes us glad according to the days when he has afflicted us, and the years when we have seen evil. It may not be said of God’s children that we are a wretched company. Though truly, if in this life only we had hope we should be of all men most miserable; yet since that hope is sure we are of all men the most happy! We shall not say when life is ended here below that it was an evil thing to have lived. We have the promise of the life that now is as well as of what is to come. “Happy are you, oh Israel,” is for the present as well as for the future. God has blessed us, and we are blessed; and it is not for us to speak as if the blessing were in vain.

10. Now, if it is so, that our gladness and our sadness are balanced, let us accept them by turns with gratitude. Let us notice, further, that sorrow is the herald of joy. Did I not tell you only a few Sundays ago how I sat in health and strength and joy in the olive gardens, and said to my friend, — 

   We should expect some danger nigh
   When we perceive too much delight.

The apprehension was soon justified, as it has often been: but let us not forget the other side of this truth, — we may expect some mercy near when we are bowed with heaviest grief. {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 1699, “Supposing Him to be the Gardener” 1700 @@ "33."} Among the ashes of sorrow we shall find live coals of joy. Grief is God’s usher of the black rod, sent to intimate that in the majesty of his grace the Lord is drawing near to us. There will be first to us, even as there was to Israel, the sound of Egypt’s chariot wheels and the cry of her horsemen, and a descent into the depths of the sea: and then shall come the far-resounding, never-forgotten shout of victory. The rage of Pharaoh, and the darkness of the night, and the march through the Red Sea must prepare the way for Miriam’s tambourine and the loud refrain, “Sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously; he has thrown the horse and his rider into the sea.” Israel must make bricks without straw before Moses shall come. If I had been a little child among the Israelites I think I should have known, when father placed the bitter herbs on the table, that the lamb was roasting somewhere, and would be set out too. “With bitter herbs you shall eat it” — and so, if there are bitter herbs, the dainty dish is near. Job did not know, and he could not guess it; but in the light of Job’s book we ought to know that the preparation for making a man twice as rich as he was before is to take away all that he has. Often, in building a bigger house, it is the way of wisdom to clear away the old building altogether. Keeping up the old structure is often an expensive economy; it is better to demolish it. Even so I believe that the adversities of the saints are to their lasting profit, by removing what would hinder greater prosperity. Troubles come clothed in black; but to the eye of faith they carry silver trumpets, and they proclaim the approach of great mercies. God is hurrying in the richness of his favour to bless his children: sorrow is the outrider of joy.

11. A step further, and we have it like this, sorrow often prepares for joy. It might not be safe, dear brother, that you should enjoy worldly prosperity at the outset of life. Your adversities in business are meant to teach you the worthlessness of earthly things, so that when you have them you may not be tempted to make idols of them. I am persuaded that many men have been ruined by rising suddenly to fame and power: had they at first been abused and trodden down like mire in the streets, their spirits might have been hardened to endure that sharpest of all tests, namely, human honour; for “just as the refining pot is for silver, and the furnace for gold; so is a man to his praise.” You are not ready yet, dear brethren, to bear the weight of an elevated superstructure: you must be dug out first, and a deep foundation must be laid to bear a lofty building. In the spiritual life God does not run us up with glittering virtues all at once; but deep prostration of spirit and thorough humiliation prepare the under courses; and then, afterwards, stone upon stone, as with rows of jewels, we are built up to be a palace for the indwelling of God. Sorrow furnishes the house for joy. The preparation for an eternal heaven is temporary affliction. Jesus has gone to prepare heaven for us; but he has left his cross behind him so that the Holy Spirit may by its means prepare us for heaven. You could not enjoy the rest of Paradise if you had not first known the labours of pilgrimage; you could not understand the boundless felicity of heaven if your hearts had not been enlarged by the endurance of tribulation. Do not let this be forgotten, then, — that our troubles build a house and spread a table for our joys. Did you ever read of a Roman triumph? Have you ever stood upon the Via Sacra which led up to the Capitol? There, when the glad day was come, the people crowded all along the road: every house roof was loaded, the very chimney-tops each bore a man, while along the sacred way the conqueror rode, drawn by white horses, amid the blast of trumpets, and the thundering acclamations of myriads. What glory! What renown! Rome’s millions did their best to crown their hero. But he endured very many a battle before that hour of pride. Victory needs conflict as its preface. The conqueror’s scars are his truest decorations, his wounds his best certificates of valour. Because he had been smothered with the dust and defiled with the blood of battle, therefore the hero stood erect and all men paid him reverence. It must be so in the present condition of things; no man can wear the garland until he has first contended for it.

   Sure we must fight if we would reign;
   Increase our courage, Lord.

The way to the crown is by the cross: the palm branch does not come to the idle hand.

   The path of sorrow, and that path alone,
   Leads to the place where sorrow is unknown.

12. Once again, let me say to you, dear friends, there is such a connection between sorrow and joy that no saint ever has a sorrow that does not have a joy wrapped up in it. It is a rough oyster, but a pearl lies within those shells if you will only look for it. Do not think I mock at grief by saying that it is the husk of joy: far from it, I would console grief by asserting solemnly that within the black envelope of affliction there is a precious love-token from God: be sure of that. We find the treasure of communion with Christ in the earthen vessel of sorrow. We ask to have fellowship with Jesus in his sufferings; and we cannot do so unless we suffer. It is a joy to remember in our woe that by these things we are made like our Lord, and conformed into his image. If there were only this comfort it might suffice to sweeten every suffering.

13. Besides this, there is generally with sorrow a revelation of the Lord and our weakness. I have known many forms of happiness; but I think, on the whole, I consider the purest and sweetest to be that of fainting in weakness upon the breast of Jesus and dying into his life. “Oh to be nothing, nothing, only to lie at his feet!” To be as a lily broken off at the stalk, and therefore taken up into his hand. This is unutterable happiness. The Lord’s love for his poor and afflicted ones is most choice and tender. “He carries the lambs in his bosom.” Favoured feebleness to be laid in the heaven of Jesus’ bosom like this! I love to cower down under the divine wings like a chick under the hen, finding myself by losing myself in God. I have found it precious to feel that no more strength is left to suffer with, and therefore I must die away into the divine will. It is certain that in every tribulation there are consolations, even as every night has its own stars. I am sure, dear brothers and sisters, you who grieve most today for the departed possess a joy which outweighs your mourning: it is a great sorrow to lose a father, but it is a greater joy to know that your father is not really lost, but translated to the skies. It is a great grief to part with a true brother and fellow labourer, but it is happiness to know that he is promoted to the peerage of the skies. Each one of us might say of our departed friend, “Let us go, so that we may die with him.” These good men have the head start on us: they are preferred before us: they have first seen the King in his beauty. One of them at least has reached his reward before his spiritual father: he who is my joy and crown is in heaven before me. Truly, there are first who shall be last. Our hold on the invisible is strengthened by the departure of our brethren. We have more in heaven to love, more fraternal meetings to anticipate; and so we have new links with the eternal. Did I not say truly that every sorrow contains a joy?

14. Once more, the day will come when all the sorrows of God’s sending will be looked upon as joys. Hear this! By some strange alchemy, known only to “the King eternal, immortal, invisible,” our sorrows shall be turned into joys. You see this in your own homes, — I quote it because it is the Lord’s own metaphor, — a woman when she is in travail has sorrow because her hour is come; but soon she remembers no more her travail, for the joy that a man is born into the world. Our troubles and travails are sharp, but they will all be forgotten in the joy that will come from them. Before we enter heaven we shall thank God for most of our sorrow; and when we are once in glory we shall thank him for it all. Perhaps in heaven, among all the things which have happened to us that will arouse our wonder and delight, our furnace experience, and the hammer and the file, will take the lead. Sorrow will contribute rich stanzas to our everlasting psalm. Therefore comfort each other with these words, and each one breathe the prayer today, “Make us glad according to the days when you have afflicted us, and the years when we have seen evil.” In each case may divine love weigh out the ingredients of a sanctified life according to the art of the apothecary, each one in due proportion.

15. II. Bear with me while I come to the second part of my subject, which I desire to make eminently practical. The gladness desired is also described: it is PARTICULAR GLADNESS. The Psalmist wishes for a fourfold gladness: — the first is gladness at the sight of God’s work.

16. Notice; “YOUR work.” There is always something cheering in God’s work. Have you never felt it so? I think you must have done so. When Mungo Park {b} was cheered by that little bit of moss which he picked up in the wilderness, he was only comforted as many of us have been. The flowers of the garden, the wild beauties of the woods, the chance tufts by the roadside, are all God’s work, and, therefore, breathe consolation to God’s servants. Nature is kindly; her stars speak light to our hearts; her winds chase away our gloom; and her waves flash with health for us. Nature is a fond foster-mother to the Lord’s children, because she is like ourselves, the work of the Lord. When we are in deep tribulation it is a sweet solace to survey the handiwork of our Father in Heaven. His work in providence, also, is often a consolation to us. Let us only see what God has done for his people and for ourselves in years past, and we are cheered. Trouble itself, when we see it to be God’s work, has lost its terror. A certain Persian nobleman found himself surrounded by soldiers, who sought to take him prisoner; he drew his sword and fought very valiantly, and might have escaped had not one of the company said, “The king has sent us to convey you to himself.” He sheathed his sword at once. Yes, we can contend against what we call a misfortune; but when we learn that the Lord has done it, our contest is ended, for we are glad and rejoice in what the Lord does; or, if we cannot get the length of rejoicing in it, we acquiesce in his will. This is our song: — 

   I would not contend with thy will,
   Whatever that will may decree;
   But oh, may each trial I feel
   Unite me more fondly to thee.

17. Brethren, the great comfort which this church needs now is to see God’s work in the midst of her revived and glorified. If the Lord will only come among us and save men, and if he will build up and edify his people, and give them help to accomplish their holy service — this will be our richest possible comfort: “Let your work appear to your servants.” Lord, our brethren fade away, they go into the shadow land, we see them no more; but, oh, if we can see your hand at work among us we shall not be discouraged! We mourn the loss of our brother’s work; but we will not be disheartened if we see your work. May the Lord make you to see his work on your own hearts, dear brothers and sisters; may he make you to see his work in the congregation, in the Sunday School, and everywhere throughout the world, bringing men to himself; and you will find in it a sovereign, balm for all your wounds.

18. The next consolation is also a very rich one — gladness at the revelation of God to our children; — “and your glory to their children.” If our God will only make his glory to be seen by our children, what more can we ask for? “I have no greater joy than this, that my children walk in the truth.” No better comfort can be found for bereaved mothers than to see their sons and daughters converted. There is a sorrow for those who have departed; but I could almost say, “Do not weep for the dead, neither bewail them,” — for there is a sharper grief by far, and that is our anxiety for those who survive, and yet are dead to God. Did you ever see a chain-gang of convicts marching to their labour? I could wish never to see the sad scene again. Suppose that among those convicts there was a boy of yours! Ah me! Ah me! it would be better for you that he had never been born. But think of those who are prisoners in the chains of sin. Is there a boy or girl of yours in such bonds? Oh, then, I am sure you will pray the Lord to rescue you from so sharp a trial, and to set your sons and daughters free from the fetters of iniquity. Each of you pray fervently, “Oh Lord, let your glory as their emancipator appear to my children, and then do what you wish.” Did you ever visit a condemned cell? To peep through the gate and to see a man sitting there condemned to die is enough to make one faint. Suppose it were your boy! Suppose it were your husband! Suppose it were your brother! But listen: “He who does not believe is condemned already.” Pardon us, dear unconverted relatives, if we say that we feel more sorrow for you living than we do for our gracious ones who are dead; for yours is a terrible plight, to be even now sitting in the condemned cell, doomed to be taken out to execution before long unless infinite mercy shall grant a free pardon. What dreadful sights must meet the eye upon a battle-field. If I see a man bleeding by a common cut my heart is in my mouth, and I cannot bear the sight: but what must it be to see men dismembered, disembowelled, writhing to and fro in the last agonies of death! What horror to walk among mounds of dead bodies, and stumble at each step over a human corpse! Yet, what is natural death compared with spiritual death? What terror to dwell in the same house with relatives who are dead while they live, — dead to God. The thought is full of anguish. If God will quicken our spiritually dead; if he will give life to those who are “free among the slain, as those who go down into the pit,” what a consolation we shall find in it! Did you see that alarming fire the other day? Did you hear of the hotel in flames, where there were many guests, and they were in the upper storey, and the flames had engulfed the whole edifice, so that numbers perished? {c} It must be dreadful to see people at the upper windows of a burning house, and to be powerless to rescue them. But if your child were there, your boy, your girl, or if your husband or your wife were there, or even if anyone you knew were there, your grief would have a double sting about it, and you would cry, “Lord, do what you wish with me, but do save those precious lives.” Remember, then, that your ungodly friends are in a similar condition, and what greater mercy can God bestow upon you than for him to make his glory to be seen by your children in their eternal salvation?

19. Therefore I turn your thoughts to that prayer. May you breathe it now, and may the Lord, for Christ’s sake, answer it very speedily, — “Let your glory appear to our children.”

20. The third consolation which Moses describes here is gladness at beauty bestowed — “Let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us.” Sorrow mars the countenance and clothes the body with sackcloth; but if the Lord will come to us and adorn us with his beauty, then the stains of mourning will speedily disappear. Brethren, what a beauty is this which the Lord gives — “the beauty of the Lord our God!” This beauty is the beauty of his grace; for our covenant God is the God of all grace. If the Lord makes us to know that we are his our faces shine. If he fills us with his life and love, then brightness flashes from the eyes, and there is a grace about every movement.

21. This “beauty” means holiness; for holiness is the beauty of God. If the Holy Spirit works in you the beauty of holiness, you will rise superior to your afflictions. If this church shall be made the holier by its bereavements, we shall gain much by our losses.

22. This beauty of the Lord must surely mean his presence with us. Just as the sun beautifies all things, so does God’s presence. When we know that Jesus is with us, when we feel that he is our helper, when we bask in his love, when he resides with us in power, this is the beauty of the saints. If we have Christ in us, Christ with us, we can bear any amount of trouble.

   I can do all things, or can bear
   All suffering if my Lord be there.

This beauty gives to the believer an attractiveness in the eyes of men: they perceive that we have been with Jesus, and they behold our faces shining like the faces of angels. It is a great thing when a Christian is so happy, so holy, and so heavenly that he attracts others to Christ, and people seek his company because they perceive that he has been in the company of the blessed Lord. May God give you this, and if you have it, dear friend, you may forget your sorrows: they are transfigured into joy.

23. The last comfort that Moses speaks of is gladness at our own work being established — “Establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, the work of our hands establish it.” Do you notice the wonderful blending in the fifteenth and seventeenth verses: there it is, “Let your work appear to your servant”; here it is “Let our work be established.” Alas, I have heard divines correctly say that salvation is God’s work, and then they have harshly added that, in our preaching of the gospel, we make it out to be our own work. So they speak harsh things against us, and their speech is not according to the Lord’s mind. Others, again, make out this work to be so much man’s work that God is forgotten. Neither of these is correct: we must blend the two: to build up the church and win souls for Jesus is first of all God’s work, and then our work. Why should a Christian work to win souls? Answer: because God works in him to win souls. Remember the verses, — “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.” Why? “For it is God who works in you to will and to do of his good pleasure.” God works to set us working: our work is the result of his work.

24. Our work is often a very effective means of comfort for us. On the battle-field of Gettysburg there had been a terrible conflict, and among the wounded lay a certain chaplain of the name of Eastman who had been seriously injured in the back by his horse falling on him. The dark and dreary night came on, and as he lay there in great pain, unable to rise, he heard a voice at a little distance cry, “Oh God!” His interest was aroused, and he rolled himself over and over through pools of blood, and among the slain, until he reached the side of the dying man, and there he lay, talking about Jesus and his free salvation. The man expired in hope, and just then two soldiers came and told Eastman that a captain was dying a little further down the field, and they must carry him there: so he was borne in anguish upon the work of mercy, and while the night wore on he spoke of Jesus to many dying men. Could he have had a better relief from his pain? I do not think so. Why, it seems to me that to lie there on his back with nothing to do but moan and groan would have been horrible: but in all his pain and anguish to be carried about to proclaim mercy to dying men made the anguish of an injured back endurable! So it is when you miss a friend, or have lost property, or are heavy in spirit, you shall find your best comfort in serving God with all your might.

25. The text prays for our work that it may succeed: “Establish the work of our hands.” Oh, if God will only prosper us in our work for him how happy we shall be! One day this week I had a great lift up out of deep distress when I was informed that a captain was here last Sunday morning, and was so impressed that he found the Saviour, and made the fact known at one of the noonday prayer meetings, asking for himself that he might be kept faithful to his God. This is good. We do not always see our seed grow so quickly as that. It is wet weather just now, the dampness of sorrow is on all things, and so the seed sown in tears is speedily reaped in joy. Is this not something to comfort us? Let us pray God to send us more of it, so that by conversions our work may prosper.

26. Then we pray that our work may be lasting, — that is the chief point. I look forward to the future of this church with prayerful, hopeful anxiety! I am not old, not very old at any rate; but I am not all that I was in my earlier days, and doubt whispers that soon things will decline. The other day a certain great preacher said that after a preacher had been for a while in a place all the heroism, all the earnestness, all the fervour which characterizes new efforts would be gone, and the best thing would be to disband the church, and let them begin again under a new leader. That may look like a practical idea; but I do not quite see it; nor does it commend itself to me as sound and true. If a church is man’s work it is dependent on a man, and when he is gone the best thing we can do with it is to let it dissolve; but I desire to see built up in this place, by God’s hand, a church which will endure until the coming of the Lord. Though dear ones, who seemed to be pillars, are taken away, the Lord will find other pillars; and though just now there are breaches in Zion’s wall here and there, yet the wall shall again be repaired, and not a broken place shall remain. If we may see this accomplished we shall be abundantly comforted. “Establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, the work of our hands establish it.” We belong to an established church; established, not by men, but by the Lord. This church will flourish when you and I have passed into our rest. Meanwhile, I ask you to take a deep interest in it, and do all you can for its prosperity. Make it more and more the model of what a church of Christ should be. I long that the truth which I have preached may be established in the earth. They say that Calvinism is at a great discount now: perhaps it is. Yet to me it seems that its free grace spirit is far more spread than ever, and is quietly saturating all true evangelical preaching. If it is so, that the doctrines of grace are now despised, we still hope that we shall live to see them brought to the forefront again, or, if not, we shall leave behind us such a testimony that in years to come the gospel of the grace of God will be read by thousands.

27. At this time I ask for the loving help of you all, for the church itself. Our institutions deserve your zeal, and liberality, and prayerfulness; but do not forget the old house at home, the mother of these efforts. The church itself needs your love, your prayers, your help, your sustenance. I say this to you, my dear friends, who have been with me long — be today what you were at the beginning; be as knit together and as earnest as you were when you had a boy preacher to lead you, and you loved him and helped him to do good service for the Lord. For nearly thirty years God has been with us; let us begin again from this date and see if we cannot complete the thirty years of blessing, and, if the Lord permits us, let us add another twenty years to it, and make up half a century of prosperity. Who knows? Only let us carefully watch the present and see that nothing declines. Let each one be eager to keep the sacred cause in a healthy condition. God will establish his work upon us from day to day, and this shall be our comfort. Keep everything in the best possible working order. Plead with the Holy Spirit to clothe us with his power. Maintain all forms of holy labour vigorously, and sustain every fund by your spontaneous liberality. Never need pressing, but let each one enquire, “What can I do to keep the church well supplied for God’s glory?” I believe this is the way to church comfort. God will comfort Zion, he will comfort all her waste places; but each one of us must take pleasure in her stones, and favour its dust. Close up your ranks. Leave no empty spaces. Let every man stand closer to his fellow: and then “Forward!” Forward to a fuller consecration and a braver faith in God. Forward to more grace and higher holiness; so we shall wipe away our tears, and praise the name of the Lord; and he will remember us, and by a plenitude of blessing make up to us all that we have lost. A blessing is coming! Be ready for it! Amen.

[Portion Of Scripture Read Before Sermon — Ps 90]
{See Spurgeon_Hymnal “Spirit of the Psalms — Psalm 92” 92 @@ "(Part 1)"}
{See Spurgeon_Hymnal “Spirit of the Psalms — Psalm 73” 73 @@ "(Part 3)"}
{See Spurgeon_Hymnal “Spirit of the Psalms — Psalm 71” 71 @@ "(Song 1)"}

{a} William Mills, Esq., for many years a beloved deacon of the church in the Metropolitan Tabernacle, was taken to his rest January 12th, 1883, at the age of sixty-two.
{b} Mungo Park (September 11, 1771 - 1806) was a Scottish explorer of the African continent. He was the first Westerner known to have travelled to the central portion of the Niger River. See Explorer "http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mungo_Park_(explorer)"
{c} January 10, 1883: The Newhall House, in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, one of the largest hotels in the state, burns to the ground in a dramatic fire that claimed over 80 lives. It remains one of the worst hotel fires in American history. See Explorer "http://mkemurmur.tumblr.com/post/2689911299/january-10-1883-the-newhall-house-one-of-the"

Spirit of the Psalms
Psalm 92 (Part 1)
1 Sweet is the work, my God, my King,
   To praise thy name, give thanks, and sing,
   To show thy love by morning light,
   And talk of all thy truth at night.
2 Sweet is the day of sacred rest,
   No mortal cares shall seize my breast;
   Oh may my heart in tune be found,
   Like David’s harp of solemn sound!
3 My heart shall triumph in the Lord,
   And bless his works, and bless his word
   Thy works of grace, how bright they shine!
   How deep thy counsels, how divine!
4 Fools never raise their thoughts so high;
   Like brutes they live, like brutes they die;
   Like grass they flourish, till thy breath
   Blast them in everlasting death.
5 But I shall share a glorious part
   When grace hath well refined by heart;
   And fresh supplies of joy are shed,
   Like holy oil, to cheer my head.
6 Sin, my worst enemy before,
   Shall vex my eyes and ears no more;
   My inward foes shall all be slain,
   Nor Satan break my peace again.
7 Then shall I see, and hear, and know
   All I desired or wish’d below;
   And every power find sweet employ
   In that eternal world of joy.
                           Isaac Watts, 1719.

Psalm 92 (Part 2)
1 Lord, ‘tis a pleasant thing to stand
   In gardens planted by thine hand:
   Let me within thy courts be seen,
   Like a young cedar, fresh and green.
2 There grow thy saints in faith and love,
   Bless’d with thine influence from above;
   Not Lebanon with all its trees
   Yields such a comely sight as these.
3 The plants of grace shall ever live;
   Nature decays, but grace must thrive;
   Time, that doth all things else impair,
   Still makes them flourish strong and fair.
4 Laden with fruits of age, they show
   The Lord is holy, just, and true;
   None that attend his gates shall find
   A God unfaithful or unkind.
                        Isaac Watts, 1719.

Spirit of the Psalms
Psalm 73 (Part 1)
1 Lord, what a thoughtless wretch was I,
   To mourn, and murmur, and repine,
   To see the wicked placed on high,
   In pride and robes of honour shine.
2 But, oh their end! their dreadful end!
   Thy sanctuary taught me so:
   On slipp’ry rocks I see them stand,
   And fiery billows roll below.
3 Now let them boast how tall they rise,
   I’ll never envy them again;
   There they may stand with haughty eyes,
   Till they plunge deep in endless pain.
4 Their fancied joys, how fast they flee!
   Just like a dream when man awakes:
   Their songs of softest harmony
   Are but a preface to their plagues.
5 Now I esteem their mirth and wine
   Too dear to purchase with my blood;
   Lord, ‘tis enough that thou art mine;
   My life, my portion, and my God.
                           Isaac Watts, 1719.

Psalm 73 (Part 2)
1 God, my supporter and my hope,
   My help for ever near,
   Thine arm of mercy held me up,
   When sinking in despair.
2 Thy counsels, LOrd, shall guide my feet
   Through this dark wilderness;
   Thy hand conduct me near thy seat,
   To dwell before thy face.
3 Were I in heaven without my God
   ‘Twould be no joy to me;
   And whilst this earth is mine abode,
   I long for none but thee.
4 What if the springs of life were broke,
   And flesh and heart should faint?
   God is my soul’s eternal rock,
   The strength of every saint.
5 Still to draw near to thee, my God,
   Shall be my sweet employ;
   My tongue shall sound thy works abroad,
   And tell the world my joy.
                        Isaac Watts, 1719.

Psalm 73 (Part 3)
1 Whom have we, Lord, in heaven but thee,
   And whom on earth beside;
   Where else for succour shall we flee,
   Or in whose strength confide?
2 Thou art our portion here below,
   Our promised bliss above;
   Ne’er can our souls an object know
   So precious as thy love.
3 When heart and flesh, oh Lord, shall fail,
   Thou wilt our spirits cheer;
   Support us through life’s thorny vale,
   And calm each anxious fear.
4 Yes, thou, our only guide through life,
   Shalt help and strength supply;
   Support us in death’s fearful strife,
   Then welcome us on high.
                     Harriett Auber, 1829.

Spirit of the Psalms
Psalm 71 (Song 1)
1 My Saviour, my almighty Friend,
   When I begin thy praise,
   Where will the growing numbers end,
   The numbers of thy grace?
2 Thou art my everlasting trust;
   Thy goodness I adore;
   And since I knew thy graces first,
   I speak thy glories more.
3 My feet shall travel all the length
   Of the celestial road;
   And march with courage in thy strength,
   To see my Father God.
4 When I am fill’d with sore distress
   For some surprising sin,
   I’ll plead thy perfect righteousness,
   And mention none but thine.
5 How will my lips rejoice to tell
   The victories of my King!
   My soul redeem’d from sin and hell,
   Shall thy salvation sing.
6 Awake, awake, my tuneful powers;
   With this delightful song
   I’ll entertain the darkest hours,
   Nor think the season long.
                        Isaac Watts, 1719.

Psalm 71 (Song 2)
1 My God, my everlasting hope,
   I live upon thy truth;
   Thine hands have held my childhood up,
   And strengthen’d all my youth.
2 Still has my life new wonders seen
   Repeated every year;
   Behold my days that yet remain,
   I trust them to thy care.
3 Cast me not off when strength declines,
   When hoary hairs arise;
   And round me let thy glory shine,
   Whene’er thy servant dies.
                        Isaac Watts, 1719.