There is one more remedy against financial anxiety, and that, strange to say, is systematic Giving. This the ancient prophets of Israel already knew; in our day it has lately assumed prominence again, especially through George Müller and Spurgeon. Whether the amount to be laid aside for this purpose should be the tenth part of one’s income would seem a matter of complete indifference; but a definite part it must be; and it should never be allowed to remain a matter of mere intentions, which the natural avarice of men will always find ways of evading. In this way a man oftentimes acquires his first inclination toward caring for his poor fellow-men, while otherwise they appear to him only too often as troublesome claimants for something that rightly belongs to himself alone or that he has need of for himself and for his own. But when a man possesses such a fund, no longer belonging to himself, then he looks around more freely to see where he may put the money to good use; then at times he even anticipates the appeal of the tongue when he sees the mute appeal of the eye. This single habit, universally adopted, would help solve the social question more than all the talking and scribbling with which the world now resounds, for the most part vainly.
A stoical remedy we will finally name, because, when all the others have first been tried, in most cases it is no longer necessary. It consists in picturing to ourselves the worst that could happen. And, in fact, this does afford a certain consolation, at least for him who is able to make use of it; others, on the contrary, can be led by this path, and without any need for it, to despair.
Nevertheless, all this does not always bring immediate help. The Spirit of Sorrow often falls upon one like an armed man (especially in sleepless nights), and leaves him no time for instant resistance. In that case, the first step is to discover the cause. If it is sin, it must be at once set right. If there is no definite cause present, or if it is of a physical nature, then withstand it by physical remedies, such as sleep, fresh air, exercise, or by work; never by mere “distractions,” for afterward the trouble returns with doubled power. Often a good quotation will strengthen, such as: “Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, these may forget; yet will I not forget thee. Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands.”
If the cause of sorrow is some trouble actually present, and not one feared in the future, then perhaps the following thought will help: We must bear what God lays upon us; and we must, with all our power of will, hold fast the conviction that nothing can possibly happen without his permission and that all is measured in accord with our strength, whose actual resources we often do not know ourselves. These two thoughts, then, are provisionally our support; whoever gives up this support is like a man who clings to a rope over an abyss and lets go the rope. There is no call to be overstoical; we may give vent to our sorrow, only not at all to ourselves and but sparingly to others; and we should then take some action in accordance with our reason, though not in accordance with that alone,—nor always at once, while it is still troubled with excitement. With these presuppositions, one can endure much.
It is quite possible that at times even this does not seem rightly to avail. In that case, these are the periods of life when the genuine steel of character is to be formed, that otherwise may not be brought to pass. Then at least make the attempt simply to hold out for a short time longer,—for a month, a week, three days, or even only for a single day. Not rarely at the end of such a term you are stronger than at its beginning, and frequently experience shows it to be the case that from the very moment one is preparing himself for the apparently inevitable, and no longer seeks or expects any human aid, at that very moment relief is already coming. The suffering has then just fulfilled its purpose.
In conclusion, only one thing more: we know very well how people, in the hours of their heaviest struggles with sorrow, can lose faith in every ground of consolation and look upon such grounds as unsatisfying, or as the empty talk of people who have themselves suffered nothing like. That may be true, or again it may not. But, in case you think it is, nevertheless try to bear, for the glory of God, what you will and can no longer endure for your own sake or for the sake of those near to you. “When you are driven almost to despair,” says Spurgeon, “and are tempted to lay violent hands upon yourself or to do some other rash and evil deed, do nothing of the kind, but trust yourself to your God; that will bring him more glory than seraphim and cherubim can give. To believe the promise of God, when you are ill, or sad, or near to death—that it is to glorify God.” This “giving God the glory,” or “praising the Lord,” or “hallowing his name,” is one of the many expressions of the Bible which have now quite vanished from our real comprehension and have become an empty phrase. To render glory to God on earth and still to live for him though one would otherwise be glad to dispense with life, that is the highest of all life’s resignations; and he to whom this duty is finally intrusted is not to make complaint, but to be ashamed if it come to one unwilling to accept it. But if it has come to a man who has something of the heroic in his nature, then by its means he will, for the first time, develop the possibilities that lay dormant within him; and the feeling of a larger and surer nearness to God will then, in the bitterest hours of his life, so lift him above himself that these very hours will seem to his after-memory as the most beautiful—as those, indeed, to which he owes all his real happiness in life.
Sin and sorrow cling close together in human life; therefore they are also displayed here before the reader as an associated hindrance on the way to happiness.
The first step, as a rule, must be to banish sin from life; only then may one seriously think of getting rid of sorrow. For the only true freedom from sorrow lies not in a man’s natural disposition, nor is it the product of happy outward surroundings of any sort; true freedom from sorrow is found in that higher happiness, painfully won, to which Job was led, after his earlier happiness, dependent upon fortuitous things, had been done away. To this happiness, henceforth secure, we all without exception should attain and can attain, just as soon as we have fought through the gates at which the guardians Sin and Sorrow stand.
II. “COMFORT YE MY PEOPLE”