Help from the Throne
/^vNCE, and once only, we read in the Bible of a “throne of grace.” It is a beautiful expression, drawn from the mercy-seat, where the high-priest presented his offerings, made his supplications for the people, and received answers from God. Jesus is our intercessor, and therefore every believer may come to that throne of mercy, and come “boldly,” too. The original Greek is “with freedom of speech.” And we are permitted to come very often; for the only limitation is that we are to ask for help at the throne in every “time of need.”
These emergencies arise constantly. An hour of temptation is an hour of need. A time of sudden adversity — as when the first blow of the cyclone tears our canvas from the spars — this is a time of need. Sudden prosperity, too, may be equally dangerous, and demand an immediate supply of grace to bear it. If a disagreeable duty is rolled on us, or a most irritating provocation is thrown like a torpedo, at our feet — then we must have instant grace for the emergency. Not a day in our Christian lives but brings its hour of need. What a glorious promise it is, brother! that you and I are allowed to come directly to the throne, and obtain help for every one of these thousand necessities! This single verse in the fourth chapter of Hebrews would be worth making a revelation from heaven for. How does God help us? What are his methods of supply?
(I.) God does not give us ready money. He issues his promissory notes, and then pays them when faith presents them at the throne. Each one of us has a check-book. Just as every note of the Bank of England represents just so much bullion in its vaults, so a Christian’s promises represent “the unsearchable riches of Christ.” His assets are infinite. When we get bankrupt in duty, we sometimes talk as if the Divine Grace had “suspended” or “broke”; but the failure is with us. We do not go to the throne and present the promises for help. Jesus never repudiates. He longs to give more than we have the faith to ask. If half the time spent in worrying over our troubles were spent in seeking help from God, we should sooner get relief.
Too often we fall to making an ado, like the hired weepers and wailers in the house of Jairus. Unbelief wrings its hands, and cries, “All is over.” If we would quietly call for Jesus, he would come to us in our hour of need, and serenely say, “What mean ye by this ado? the maiden is not dead but sleepeth.” Then we would put all the noisy complainers, and the disgraceful fears, out of the room, and calmly speak the word “Talitha cumi! — maiden arise!” I often think that this story of Christ’s raising of the dead maiden was given us to teach Christians how to act in times of trouble. Instead of letting our unbelief rave and tear its hair, we should call straightway for the Master. Our emergency is his opportunity. The time for help is our time of need.
(II.) God sometimes helps us by means of adverse circumstances. He makes troubles to work together for good to them that love him. What a train of troubles overtook Joseph from the time when he was put into the pit until he was put into the prison! But by and by he looks his mean and blushing brothers right in their faces, and says, u Ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good.11 So our God is constantly overruling our troubles for the advancement of our good and of his glory. It helps a vine to be pruned. Our Father uses the knife when he sees that we require it. It is only one of his ways of helping us in the time of need.
(III.) Every true life of faith has scenes in it when help comes — as it did to Elijah at the brook Cherith — from an unexpected quarter. The raven lights at our feet with food, and the dry brook begins to sing again with water. That is a good story which Spurgeon tells us of his grandfather, when the family cow died, and left the poor pastor’s children without their staff of life.
“What will you do now?” said my grandmother.
“I can not tell what we shall do now,” said he, “but I know what God will do; God will provide for us. We must have milk for the children.”
The next morning there came £20 to him. He had never made application to the fund for the relief of ministers; but on that day there were £5 left when they had divided the money, and one said, “There is poor Mr. Spurgeon down in Essex, suppose we send it to him. The chairman — a Mr. Morley of his day — said, “We had better make it £10, and Til give £5.” Another £5 was offered by another member, if a like amount could be raised, to make it up to £20; which was done. They knew nothing about my grandfather’s cow; but God did, you see; and there was the new cow for him. And those gentlemen in London were not aware of the importance of the service which they had rendered.’7
The charm of this little incident is that the elder Spurgeon really took his Lord at his word when he said, “Take no anxious thought for the morrow.” This is the way that George Muller manages his orphan-houses. He goes to the throne; and God puts it into good men’s hearts to send to Brother Muller the funds to help in time of need. Brethren! He who sits on that throne of grace knows what things ye have need of, and knows the best way to help us.
“It may not be my way; it may not be thy way, But yet in his own way, the Lord will provide.”
(IV.) As long as we work on God’s line, he will aid us. When we attempt to work on our own lines, he rebukes us with failure. When Peter drew his sword to defend Jesus and himself, the Master calmly says, “Put up thy sword!” But when Peter stood up to preach at Pentecost, that same Jesus rewarded him with three thousand souls in one day. Here is encouragement for faithful pastors. (V.) Our last thought is that the bell-rope of fervent prayer reaches up to the throne. Let us pull that bell in our time of need, with a strong hand. When thou hast pulled it boldly, wait till the blessing comes.