“If life were always merry,
Our souls would seek relief
And rest from weary laughter
In the quiet arms of grief.”

Doubtless all our suffering is a result of sin, but not necessarily the sin of the sufferer. Jesus was the sinless One, but He was also the Chief of sufferers. Paul’s great and lifelong sufferings came upon him, not because of his sins, but rather because he had forsaken sin, and was following Jesus in a world of sin, and seeking the salvation of his fellows. In this path there is no escape from suffering, though there are hidden and unspeakable consolations. “In the world ye shall have tribulation,” said Jesus. “All that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution,” wrote Paul.

Sooner or later, suffering in some form comes to each of us. It may come through broken health, or pain and weariness of body; or through mental anguish, moral distress, spiritual darkness and uncertainty. It may come through the loss of loved ones, through betrayal by trusted friends; or through deferred or ruined hopes, or base ingratitude; or perhaps in unrequited toil and sacrifice and ambitions all unfulfilled. Nothing more clearly distinguishes the man filled with the Spirit from the man who is not than the way each receives suffering.

One with triumphant faith and shining face and strong heart glories in tribulation, and counts it all joy. To this class belong the Apostles, who, beaten and threatened, “departed from the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer shame for His Name” (Acts v. 41).

The other with doubts and fears, murmurs and complains, and to his other miseries adds that of a rebellious heart and discontented mind. One sees the enemy’s armed host, and unmixed distress and danger; the other sees the angel of the Lord, with abundant succour and safety (2 Kings vi. 15-17).

An evangelist of my acquaintance told a story that illustrates this. When a pastor he went one morning to visit two sisters who were greatly afflicted. They were about the same age, and had long been professing Christians and members of the Church. He asked the first one upon whom he called, “How is it with you this morning?” “Oh, I have not slept all night,” she replied. “I have so much pain. It is so hard to have to lie here. I cannot see why God deals so with me.” Evidently, she was not filled with the Spirit, but was in a controversy with the Lord about her sufferings, and would not be comforted.

Leaving her he called immediately upon the other sister, and asked, “How are you to-day?” “Oh, I had such a night of suffering!” she replied. “Then,” said he, “there came out upon her worn face, furrowed and pale, a beautiful radiance, and she added, “but Jesus was so near and helped me so, that I could suffer this way and more, if my Father thinks best”; and on she went with like words of cheer and triumph that made the sick room a vestibule of glory. No lack of comfort in her heart, for the Comforter Himself, the Holy Spirit, had been invited and had come in. One had the Comforter in fullness, the other had not.

Probably, no man ever suffered more than Paul, but with soldier-like fortitude he bore his heavy burdens, faced his constant and exacting labours, endured his sore trials, disappointments, and bitter persecutions by fierce and relentless enemies; he stood unmoved amid shipwrecks, stripes and imprisonments, cold, hunger, and homelessness without a whimper that might suggest repining or discouragement, or an appeal for pity. Indeed, he went beyond simple uncomplaining fortitude, and said, “we glory in tribulation” (Romans v. 3); “I am exceeding joyful in all our tribulation” (2 Cor. vii. 4); “I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake” (2 Cor. xii. 10). After a terrible scourging upon his bare back, he was thrust into a loathsome inner dungeon, his feet fast in the stocks, with worse things probably awaiting him on the morrow. Nevertheless, we find him and Silas, his companion in suffering, at midnight praying and singing praises unto God (Acts xvi. 25).

What is his secret? Listen to him: “Because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us” (Romans v. 5). His prayer for his Ephesian brethren had been answered in his own heart: “That He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with might by His Spirit in the inner man; that Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith.” And this inner strength and consciousness, through faith, in an indwelling Christ enabled him to receive suffering and trial, not stoically as the Red Indian, nor hilariously, in a spirit of bravado, but cheerfully and with a thankful heart.

Arnold of Rugby has written something about his “most dear and blessed sister” that illustrates the power flowing from exhaustless fountains of inner joy and strength through the working of the Holy Spirit. He says:—­