Help from the Supernatural

“Then came Jesus, the doors being shut, and said, Peace be unto you.” — John xx. 26.

It is not always that Christ comes into tie soul when the doors of the world are shut. To the apostles themselves He had originally come through the world’s open doors. He had reached them in the course of their daily labour. He had met Peter by the sea, Matthew at the receipt of custom, Thomas in the exercise of his intellect. Most of His followers had been found in a pleasant environment — Nathanael under a tree, Zacchseus on the top of a tree, Martha and Mary and Lazarus in the family circle, the shepherds in the watching of their flocks, the astronomers in the observing of a star, the men of Cana in the feast of nuptial joy. But there are times when Christ comes, not through the open, but through the shut, doors of life — when no flowers clothe the fig-tree, when the flock is cut off from the 243 92 fold, when the board of Bethany is spread no more, when the treasures brought from the East are exhausted, when the vine has denied her fruit to Cana and the nuptial joy is silent. Even at such a time of closed doors the peace of Christ has often entered the soul. You have heard one say at times, “I cannot get up my spirits; I know not how it is; every door is open to me, yet life feels flat and poor.” But there is another and an exactly contrary experience. There are seasons when you hear one say, “I cannot let down my spirits; I know not what is keeping me up; all the doors of life are shut, yet I cease not from my song.” It is rather a singing than a soaring, rather a keeping-up than a flying on the wing, rather a peace than a transport. I do not at such moments believe the doors to be open when they are shut; I am simply conscious of a warm fire inside, which will not let me feel desolate. Whence the fire comes, I cannot tell. Eye hath not seen its kindling; ear hath not heard its crackling; heart hath not conceived the fuel by which it flames. It warms without wood, it comforts without coal, it heats without hands, it subsists without sustenance, it renews without replenishing, it lasts without human labour; it is the peace of God.

O Thou who hast brought a resurrection life into a world with shut doors, I too, when my doors are shut, may be reached by Thee. There are days when all my avenues are closed. There is no entrance from the front — the future is cloudy. There is no entrance from the back — the retrospect is sombre. There is no entrance from the side — the things of life are adverse. There is no entrance from the roof — like the patriarch Job I have lost sight of the open heaven. Men look and say, “A doomed house, a sealed house, a house where the inmate must die.” Yet, in such a house Thy resurrection life can dwell. Thou canst enter without doors. Thy peace can tread where there is no pathway; Thy rest can travel where there is no road. There is a light which surprises — it shineth in darkness. Thou hast birds that sing where there is no summer; Thou hast flowers that bloom where there is no sun; Thou hast faces that smile where there is no outward fortune. Send me, O Lord, Thy supernatural joy — Thy grandly unreasonable rest! Dawn in my darkness! Glitter in my gloom! Fan into flame my emberless fireplace! Send me steadfastness in the storm! Lend me nerve in the night! Give me bravery in the loss of battle! Cheer me in the chill! Warm me in the winter! Lighten me

245 spite of my load! Prepare for me a feast in the presence of my foes! Let the lamb lie down with the lion — let the calm subsist amid the world’s roar! Then shall I know that Thy peace is not born of earthly things.