1 Peter 4:15-16

THE TWOFOLD NATURE OF SUFFERING

‘But let none of you suffer as a murderer, or as a thief, or as an evildoer, or as a busybody in other men’s matters. Yet if any man suffer as a Christian, let him not be ashamed; but let him glorify God on this behalf.’

1 Peter 4:15

As we cannot escape anxiety and trouble, the only question for us to answer is this, which sorrow is best for us to have, God-like sorrow or devilish sorrow, Divine discontent or infernal discontent, the sorrow of Christ or the remorse of Judas. Choose well, your choice is brief but yet endless. We divide the sufferings of the Christian into two classes.

I. Those which spring from his struggles with outer things.—Every one knows how the first professors of Christianity had to suffer when that religion was in its infancy, and paganism or indifferentism was the creed of respectability. They were tortured, thrown to wild beasts, ‘butchered to make a Roman holiday.’ Then, certainly, those who aimed at worldly advancement did not cant about their Christianity, for in those days profession meant suffering. The less the generality of easy-going prosperous Christians, whose aim is to make the most of both worlds, talk of suffering the better. But if a man will live godly in Christ Jesus; if he do his best to oppose the unchristian current of public opinion; if he resist temptations to court the rich and great and despise Christ’s poorer brethren; if he will not be as unscrupulous in business as his fellow-tradesmen and fellow professional men; if he brave ridicule rather than run into debt, gamble, tell falsehoods; if, in a word, he dare to be different from others in order to be more like his Master, shall he not still have to suffer in many ways? Suppose our Lord came on earth again under altogether different circumstances, would He not be hated and despised? Would not those of us who desire to reconcile the indulgence of all our wishes with respectable religion of the strictly moderate kind, would we not avoid Him as ‘unpractical,’ ‘disturbing,’ and ‘unsafe,’ that is to say tormenting? Would not St. Paul be again considered, what Felix thought him, a madman, if he were in the midst of us? Would the Apostle find his thorough devotion to the name of Christ, to the higher life, easier now because the outward profession of Christianity is generally approved? Certainly not. The men of noble aims find their lot a sad and lonely one still. They are smiled at as enthusiasts, sneered at as hypocrites. The prizes of the world are not for them. Others are praised, they are blamed. Little comfort indeed they have except the thought that to them, at least, the words of their Master do not apply, ‘Woe unto you when all men shall speak well of you.’

II. There is the pain which is felt by every one who bravely contends against the besetting sins of his inner life.—Oh, who can escape from himself—this slothful, vain, selfish, lustful, envious self? To conquer this is indeed a struggle. Do not fancy for a moment that the sorrows of unrighteousness are at all less real. We have spoken of the pains and difficulties which are caused by resisting the current of evil without us and within us. Let those who shrink back after counting the cost reckon up as impartially the cost of swimming with the tide of successful wickedness, of wallowing in the sty of swinish pleasures. Suppose a man did gain the whole world at the trifling cost (as he might think it) of his own soul, what then? We know that Alexander was troubled because he had not another world to conquer, and is there not such a thing as satiety, monotony of success, and the want of not having a want? Even in this world we certainly do find the working of a power that makes for righteousness. Ruined homes and cursed lives proclaim with loud moans the penalties of unrestrained passions. Disgust of life, remorseful consciences, the pains and penalties of idleness, the torments of selfishness—are not these to be found in the houses of the dishonestly rich and luxuriously idle? The pain of swimming with the world’s current is just as great as the pain of resisting it for Christ’s sake. The sufferings in this world of the murderer, thief, evil-doer, with death for wages, are at least as great as those of the Christian to be followed by God’s gift of eternal life. Certainly it is difficult to resist our unholy natures, to tame rebellious passions, to root out by God’s help selfishness from our hearts; but there is one thing even more difficult, and that is to endure the misery which their unrestrained indulgence invariably brings along with it.

III. We see, then, that what we have before us in life is not escape from sorrow, but only the choice of the kind of suffering we shall endure.—Suffer we must in such a world as this with such a nature as ours. There are the two sorrows—the sorrow of the righteous, the sorrow of the unrighteous; the sorrow of the self-centred, the sorrow of the self-sacrificing; the sorrow of the self-controlled, the sorrow of the profligate; the sorrow of him who grasps and spends, the sorrow of him who gives and is spent; the sorrow of the thief, murderer, evil-doer, the sorrow of the Christian. Your choice is between them. You must take one or the other, which will it be? Oh let us not be ashamed to suffer as a Christian rather than as an evil-doer, for along with the sorrows of Christ-like lives there is a deep joy such as never brightens the lives of the wicked. And must not godly sorrow end well and godless sorrow end miserably, for the simple reason that God is not mocked? Suffer we all must; but surely it makes a great difference whether God’s love is seen through our sorrow, or we have the additional misery of feeling that we are in rebellion against our Heavenly Father.

—Rev. E. J. Hardy.