The Night of Tears, and the Morning of Joy
Psalm xxx. 5. Weeping may endure for a night; but joy cometh in the morning.
In the history of every true Christian, there are seasons when he is depressed, and when he is exaUed. There are the seasons of his penitence, and the joys of his faith; there is the mourning of his affliction, and the comfort of his deliverance. There is the gloom of death, the night of the grave, and there is victory over the last enemy, the morning of the resurrection, and the glories of eternity.
As a general fact in the government exercised over this fallen world, sorrow is the preliminary to joy; suffering and tears the precursor to the hopes and peace of God’s salvation. This fact itself, and the reasons of it, will occupy our thoughts during the present discourse.
I. In the first place, we will advert to some of the particulars which illustrate the fact itself
Darkness is not that which men naturally delight in. “truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is fo the eyes to see the sun.” To mourn and be in bitterness, is what no man desires. Yet are these the methods by which the soul is conducted to the light ol life, and the joys of God’s right hand.
1. There is a quite obvious illustration of this fact in the conduct of God toward wicked men, before, and at the time they are brought to the knowledge of his Son. Their night precedes their day; clouds and storm go before a serene sky; convictions, more or less deep, sensible distress of mind, and abasing humiliation, ordinarily, if not always, go before a trusting and peaceful confidence in the promises of God. There is often great inward commotion, strong excitement, and heart-rending apprehensions, as when Horeb was rent by the wind, and shook by the earthquake, and encircled by the fire. It is not till after the fire, that there is the “still, small voice;” and like the trembling, yet comforted prophet, the sinner wraps his face in his mantle, to wonder and adore. God wounds before he heals; he rends the soul with sharp convictions, and fills it with fears, before he pours into it the balm of heavenly consolation. Men do not always continue in thoughtlessness and unconcern; they must be awakened and convinced, or they must perish. There are not wanting causes of alarm, when once God holds their thoughts intent, and their eyes waking to just views of their character and condition. The affecting fact, that they are sinners, and condemned by the law of God; that the punishment to which they are exposed is eternal; that human life is uncertain, and that it is uncertain how long the Spirit of God will strive with them; and that it is also uncertain whether they shall ever come to Christ, and find mercy; are thoughts that fill them with solicitude, and make them fear and tremble. God shuts them in this dark dungeon of doubt and fear, of tumult and solicitude, before he brings them forth to the light of hope. They writhe under worse than Egyptian bondage, flee before their pursuers, are hedged in by seas and mountains, and conducted through the tedious desert, before they are brought out into a large and weaUhy place.
A sense of the divine justice in condemning, always precedes a sense of the divine mercy in saving. Self-despair always goes before all true hope in God. And therefore he throws them into darkness; terrors take hold on them as waters; and out of the depths they cry unto God. They know not what to do, and are tempted to sink in despair.
But man’s extremity is God’s opportunity. In this valley of Achor he opens a door of hope. Having shown them how ill-deserving they are, he shows them the riches of his grace; and having taught them their helplessness, he himself becomes their helper. The hour of trembling is the hour of deliverance. Liffht arises to them in the midst of darkness. Conscience is directed to atoning blood. Darkness and gloom are banished. Dejection and despondency are relieved by the light of God’s countenance, and the mourning soul wakes to anthems of praise. The light of mercy beams complacently around her, and she begins to breathe the atmosphere of heaven. It was but just now, that “deep called unto deep at the noise of God’s water spouts, and all his waves and billows went over them;” now all is tranquil as the summer sky. The burden of sin is gone; fears do not agitate; sweet and heavenly influences come down upon the soul; “weeping endures for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.”
2. A second illustration of this fact is found in the varied experience of the people of God. Men not only thus begin their religious course, but pursue it thus, in all these alternations of darkness and light, weeping and joy. It is a law of the divine kingdom, that “he that exalteth himself shall be abased, and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.” The experience of God’s people shows nothing more clearly, than that he abases them before he lifts them up. He does not always listen to the first cry of distress; nor does he always heal the anguish of the soul at the earliest indications of its lowliness; but waits to prove- and bring out its self-abasement, ere he says to it, as he did to the Syro-Phoenician suppliant, “O, woman, great is thy faith; be it unto thee even as thou wilt!”
There is not one condition of forgiveness and hope for impenitent men, and another and easier for the people of God. Their consolations are premature who rejoice before they mourn. “Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.” If there is any class of men for whom it is befitting to blush and be ashamed to lift up their faces before God, and to indulge in the bitterest and most penitential grief; they are those who have left their first love, violated their vows as Christians, and from their high standing as the professed people of God, have fallen into sin. Well may they grieve as no others grieve; nor were it irrational for them to expect to walk in darkness. All experience shows that when they wander and are restored, it is a thorny way, and the path is wet with tears. Their inward distress, their depression and despondency, are not unfrequently such as they never experienced, even in those dark hours which immediately preceded their first reconciliation to God. And as light followed the darkness then, and weeping was the prelude to joy; so it is now. Neither the grief nor the joy may be tumultuous, yet they may be genuine and true. There is deep feeling in the silence of the soul. Those sorrows are the most pungent, that are most unutterable; those joys the most transporting that cannot be told. And the vividness of the joy is very apt to bear some proportion to the intensity of the grief. The early dawn is most joyfully greeted after the darkest and most terrific night; the green earth is most beautiful when we come unexpectedly upon it, in the midst of the desert. Delightful truth! “a man shall be an hiding-place from the storm, a covert from the tempest, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land, and as rivers of water in a dry place.” When his people think of God and are troubled; when they go forward, but he is not there; backward, but they cannot perceive him; on the right hand, where he doth work, but they cannot behold him; and he hideth himself on the left hand that they cannot see him;” how welcome is the light of his countenance which then breaks through the cloud, and in what accents of tenderness and love does the promise come home to their bosoms, “He hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee!” Seasons of darkness may try our faith, but they do not justify despair. “It is good for a man that he both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of God.” We are often cast down, perplexed, and desponding; but it is that we may have more than our wonted peace and joy, and again “sing as in the days of our youth.” “For the Lord will not cast off forever; for though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies.” Our hopes may be cut down, and wither as the green herb; but one look of love from him revives them. He “breaks not the bruised reed, nor quenches the smoking flax.”
They are bastards and not sons, who never weep. God dealeth with his people as with children. “Is Ephraim my dear son? Is he a pleasant child? ‘For since I spake against him, I do earnestly remember him still; therefore my heart is troubled for him, I will surely have mercy upon him, saith the Lord.”
3. A third illustration of the fact asserted in the text, is found in the history of the Chiuch in all her progress through this unfriendly world. “He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.” The trials and conflicts of the church of God in the earth, have ever been followed by spiritual peace and prosperity. For much the greater part of the time since the first apostasy, he has suffered her to be opposed, diminished, disheartened. But nothing has been more strongly marked in her history, than that after such seasons of depression, his own right hand has been plucked out of his bosom, and made visible in raising her from this low estate. We know not to how low an estate she may be reduced; but a very low and languishing state of tl church is one of the tokens that God is about to arise and plead his own cause. Such a state calls for his interposition; and he is wont to prepare her for his gracious presence by first leading her to deep repentance and godly sorrow. She is covered with sackcloth and sits in ashes. “She putteth her mouth in the dust, if so be there may be hope.” “Her eye affecteth her heart, because of all the daughters of her city. Her eye runneth down with tears, till the Lord look down and behold from heaven.” God has more usually chosen such seasons as the most proper ones for the exhibition of his gracious power and sovereignty, and for the revival, and sustenance, and triumph of the cause that seemed desperate in the eyes of men, and beyond the power of man to uphold. The deepest darkness has been the harbinger of day. The harp that has been hung upon the willows, has subsequently been attuned to the Lord’s song. He has turned the captivity of Zion, and their mouth was filled with laughter and their tongue with singing. “When the enemy cometh in like a flood, the Spirit of the Lord lifteth up a standard against him.” When her foes begin to triumph, Zion begins to hope; for the day of her deliverance draws nigh. It is time for him to work when men make void his law. The chill, bleak winter is then past, the Sun of righteousness pours his rays upon the long barren herbage, and songs of salvation break from lips that but just now uttered the lamentations of despondency. Such is the fact adverted to in the text. We pass,
IL In the second place, not so much to consider, as barely to enumerate the reasons of it.
These reasons are obvious and revealed; they commend themselves to ourwn minds.
. One of them is, that men may have just views of God’s hatred of their sins, and learn to humble themselves under his mighty hand. This alone is a sufficient reason for their travelling through gloom and darkness to the mount of rejoicing. “Humble yourselve,” says the apostle, “under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time.” It is not the “due time” to exalt them till they are humbled. God dwells with the humble and contrite, “to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones.” He adds no needless burden to the heaviness of a broken spirit; but he bends not to the unbroken and resolute offender, nor does he comfort the sinner in his unrelenting rebellion.” He will speak peace to his mourners The whispers of his love are reserved for those who tremble at his feet. Allied to this, there is,
2. A second reason for such dispensations. Men themselves are not in a fit state of mind to receive ‘peace and comfort until they are brought thus low. They cannot welcome his paternal tenderness and mercy till then. They do not seek it, they do not desire it till then. His consolations would find no access to their minds, but would be resisted and repulsed. Great struggles are necessary to great relief. It is the agitated heart that is prepared to listen to the composing voice of heavenly mercy.
3. A third reason is, that without this discipline, the soul never casts itself on the infinite mercy of God the Saviour. These inward troubles, these fruitless efforts of self-righteous men, and these vain reliances, which meet with such sad defeat, are designed to make men feel the need of something to rest upon that is without themselves, and above all created helpers. They must be driven from every other refuge, before they commit themselves to him who alone is mighty to save. Not until they feel the sting of the deadly serpent, will they look to him who was lifted up on the cross. Th are not willing to let go their hold of all other helpers, until it is violently broken off. Then they let go, and fall into the arms of sovereign mercy. AH the teachings of divine truth would fain lead the mind to this refuge and resort; all the dealings of divine providence have this same uniform tendency. Men learn only by experience, that every other way is hedged up with thorns, passes under the terrors of the burning mount, and hangs over the angry precipice. They must be driven from every other refuge, and tossed by the tempest, before they will repair to him who is a refuge from the storm. Some are led by milder ways than others, but all are led through the darkness and the deep.
4. Another reason for this fact is, that, when peace and joy are thus obtained, they are more thankfully appreciated. When the night of weeping is past, there is a glow of joy which could not be felt but for the weeping. The restored can then scarcely contain themselves for joy. Their heart overflows, their face is the brighter for having been darkened with grief and furrowed with tears. The man who was lame from his mother’s womb, and was healed at the gate of the Temple by Peter and John, as soon as he found his feet and ankle bones received strength, could scarcely contain himself for joy. Relief to the anxious sinner is like a spring of life and salvation in the desert. The promises of God are then realized to be “exceeding great and precious promises.” Christ is a precious Christ. The Eternal God is then the sinner’s refuge, and underneath him are the everlasting arms.
5. There is one more reason for this fact, and that is, that the subjects of this painful discipline may thereby learn the more fully to give God all the ^ry of their relief. This is the greatest reason of all. A drowning man thinks of his deliverer. He thinks of the rope that was thrown out to him, and that broke as he took hold of it; and of the life-boat that was swamped in the surge; but more than all, of him who plunged into the foaming billow, and brought him to the shore. The sinner was a drowning man. No human arm was strong enough to rescue him from the fatal current that was sweeping him to destruction. And when he was rescued, it was in a way that made him see and feel that God alone was his deliverer. And now his grateful song is, “Not unto me, O Lord, not unto me, but to thy name give glory, for thy mercy and thy truth’s sake!” The scenes he has passed through will never be forgotten, and they lead him to give God the glory. He is slow of heart to do this, without just such discipline. His trials are the very way and method by which God brings him to right views on this important subject. He needs them all to free him of that strange delusion, “Mine own arm hath done this!” God will save men by himself alone, or leave them to perish. He alone must have all the glory of their salvation, or they shall never join the song of his redeemed.
Review these truths, then, my friends, and apply them to yourselves. Think of them, ye who are thoughtless in sin. “If the righteous scarcely be saved, where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear?” If the people of God mourn before they rejoice, beware lest your laughter be turned into mourning, and your joy into heaviness.
Think of them, ye who are not thoughtless. It is not certain that you will become Christians, even though you are serious. You may not be willing to travel through the darkness and the deep. You may lose all solemnity, and go back to the world. Beware that none of you do this. Be not afraid of anxiety, nor of darkness, nor of tears. Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. If they be tears of godly sorrow, despair will give place to hope, turmoil to peace, grief to joy. You shall live to praise him, and abundantly to utter the memory of his great mercy.
If any of you are Christians, and in mourning, you will see better days. “Your light shall yet break forth as the morning, and your health shall spring forth speedily.” Unto the upright there ariseth light in the midst of the darkness. Weeping will not endure always; the morning of joy shall break upon these dark mountains; and your song shall be the sweeter for all the darkness and the deep through which God has led you.