The Advantage of Affliction

“Moab hath been at ease from his youth, and he hath settled on his lees, and hath not been emptied from vessel to vessel, neither hath he gone into captivity; therefore his taste remaineth in him.” — Jer. xlviii. ii.

This is an extraordinary passage — so extraordinary that if uttered in social life it would be deemed a jest. It is quite a common thing to hear people say, I pity the poor creature! he is greatly afflicted.” But what should we think if we heard one say, ‘* I pity the poor creature! his life has been an unclouded sunshine “? That is what this passage says. It is a striking statement for any man to make, specially striking for a Jew. The son of Israel was by nature a son of the morning. He delighted in prosperity; he rejoiced in the fruits of the land. Yet, it is a scion of this race who utters the words before us — who commiserates the lot of one that has only seen the flowers. I remember some years ago reading a pamphlet of a very exceptional kind, both in subject and ability. It was written by a girl who was a chronic invalid. It was addressed to her fellowinvalids, and it purported to be an appeal for 1B5 charity towards those who enjoyed unbroken health — an appeal grounded on the statement that such a condition involved want. Now, that is just the burden of Jeremiah’s present song. Its subject is,” The disadvantage of unbroken prosperity.” He bemoans the fate of one who has never “gone into captivity.” He bemoans such a fate on the ground that it gives one a monotonous experience, “His taste remaineth in him.” It is not said that the man has a bad taste; the whole stress of the evil is laid on the monotony. Jeremiah says that want of suffering produces want of sympathy, and that want of sympathy is want of variety. He feels as sad in beholding a man without sympathy as in beholding a man without sight. As he laments in the one the absence of light, so he laments in the other the absence of shade. For the man without sight he would pray, *’ Send forth Thy sunshine! “but for the man without sympathy he would cry, “Send forth the shadow of Thy wing!” There is an eye which can only be restored in the night, which needs the cloud to make it clear. It must be created at evening-time. It is born of pain — wakened by the wind, wafted by the wave, fostered by the fire, cradled by the cross. That eye is sympathy.

Lord, make the clouds my chariots! I *’ fear “as I “enter into the cloud” as Thy disciples feared upon the mount. It seems to curtail my mountain view, to limit my prospect, to narrow the range of my vision. My ideal of glory has been to build a perpetual tabernacle amid the dazzling light. Teach me that this would be the curtailment, this the narrowing! Teach me that I never do get a mountain view of humanity till I have entered into the cloud! I think I understand why it was that Israel had a pillar of cloud by day. She was travelling to meet universal Man, and she could only meet universal Man under a cloud. We are not united by the sunshine; we come not together in the tabernacles on the hill. It is Thy cloud that makes us one, O Lord! The rich and the poor have not all the same pleasures; but they have all the same pains. By their pains Thou hast united them. Thou hast linked our brotherhood in the hunger of the heart. Our wings are silver, but our chains are golden. It is by my fetters that I can fly; it is by my sorrows that I can soar; it is by my reverses that I can run; it is by my tears that I can travel; it is by m.y cross that I can climb into the heart of humanity. Let me magnify my cross, O Lord 1