Daniel 3:10-17: "Thou, O king, hast made a decree, that every man that shall hear
the sound of the cornet, flute, harp, sackbut, psaltery, and dulcimer, and all kinds of musick,
shall fall down and worship the golden image:
11: And whoso falleth not down and worshippeth, that he should be cast
into the midst of a burning fiery furnace.
12: There are certain Jews whom thou hast set over the affairs of the province
of Babylon, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego; these men, O king, have not regarded thee:
they serve not thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up.
13: Then Nebuchadnezzar in his rage and fury commanded to bring
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. Then they brought these men before the king.
14: Nebuchadnezzar spake and said unto them,
Is it true, O Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, do not ye serve my gods,
nor worship the golden image which I have set up?
15: Now if ye be ready that at what time ye hear the sound of the cornet, flute, harp,
sackbut, psaltery, and dulcimer, and all kinds of musick, ye fall down and worship
the image which I have made; well: but if ye worship not, ye shall be cast the same hour
into the midst of a burning fiery furnace;
and who is that God that shall deliver you out of my hands?
16: Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, answered and said to the king,
O Nebuchadnezzar, we are not careful to answer thee in this matter.
17: If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace,
and he will deliver us out of thine hand, O king."
Studdert Kennedy once said that a man who was undisturbed by the problem
of pain was suffering from one of two things.
He was suffering either from a hardening of the heart or a softening of the brain.
Kennedy was right.
Everyone who is mentally alive, especially if he believes in a God of love,
finds this to be a difficult problem to solve.
It is so difficult to understand why good people suffer.
Why did our loved one die when we prayed with such faith and had the best doctors
and the best medicines.
The dread disease took its course, and all that we could do was to care for them.
There are times when we must just stand by and watch our loved one deteriorate
and are unable to be of any help.
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle told why he had become a materialist in his early life.
As a physician, he constantly saw sights which he could not reconcile
with the idea so of a merciful providence.
In his autobiography, he said, "I was called in by a poor woman to see her daughter.
As I entered the humble sitting room there was a small cot on one side,
and by the gesture of the mother, I understood that her suffering daughter was there.
I picked up a candle and, walking over, I stooped over the little bed expecting to see a child.
What I really saw was a pair of brown eyes, full of loathing and pain,
which looked up in resentment to me.
Her long thin lambs were twisted and coiled in a tiny couch.
Her face was filled with a look of torture and was so grotesque.
When they were out of the hearing of the girl, he asked, "What is it?"
"It's a girl," sobbed the mother, "she is 19.
Oh! If God would only take her."
There are people who are so mindless or so unfeeling that they can chatter cheerfully
in the presence of a problem like that.
Sometimes, you hear someone rattle off about the deficiency of faith
and suggest that God would cure the person tomorrow "if only the person would believe."
Evidently, they don't know that some of the world's most saintly Christians have suffered terribly.
Sometimes, there are those that would suggest that pain is a figment of our imagination.
They would say that that a person could be cured by some simple readjustment of their thinking.
Is it possible that such people can look on an acute case of rheumatoid arthritis,
a body twisted in inhuman shapes, or stand by someone who has gone
from 185 pounds to 85 pounds and has been in a coma for three weeks,
and really believe that is a figment of a diseased imagination?
Here's the question that many want to ask: "Is Jesus Christ able to help us
when sickness comes, and when every known resource of healing -- spiritual, mental,
and medical, has failed?
Can God help us to be brave and at peace at a time like that.
Is He able?"
We know that He is able!
We believe that in the same way that human parents must sometimes allow pain
and discipline that come up on their dearly loved children,
so must our gracious Father in heaven allow pain and discipline to come upon us,
but not in any neglectful and unloving spirit, but for some high and holy purpose known only to Him.
Though He does not will the calamities, He does allow the conditions
in which these calamities are possible.
We also believe that when we cannot interpret the dark mystery of life,
and God seems indifferent to our plea for explanations, it is not because there is no meaning in it,
or because He does not know, or does not care.
It is just because, as yet, our minds are too small, and we cannot understand the explanation.
We have reached that stage in human development when we are able to ask questions,
but are not always able to understand the answers.
God expects us to trust His love.
Have you ever taken your child to have surgery?
And while you are waiting your child hears someone in the operating room screaming,
and crying, and your child pleads with you to take him home.
Or you take your child to the dentist, and your child hears the screaming of another child,
and your child cries, "Get me out of here!"
And you say, "No, you must have this done.
You will understand someday, and you must trust my love."
And then, the moment comes when you put your child firmly in the arms of a nurse
for an experience which you know will be painful and nauseating,
but which, for the child's sake, you are determined to see it through.
That is somewhat how God deals with us.
In the vast affairs of this universe we are old enough to ask questions,
but our minds are not yet big enough to understand all the answers.
And God says, "Trust my love for you."
Can you not trust Him though He leads you in a path which is dark and foreboding?
The time of suffering is not a time for speech upon the ultimate problems of the universe.
It is a time to look upward, and have a trustful faith in God.
Some people are so strong in their faith, and so sure of God that they can praise Him in their pain,
and pass through the valley of the shadow of death with a song on their lips.
But such people are very rare.
For most people. it is a time for silent obedience.
To create a philosophy in such an hour would be a mistake.
If we make it for ourselves, in the time of our own tragedy, it borders on despair.
If we make it for others, in the hour of their grief, it is likely that they will think
that we have treated their sorrow too light.
The immature explanations which well-meaning people sometimes offer of the dark mysteries
in a loved one's life are very shallow.
I read somewhere that someone was told of how a Christian
told a mother who was bereaved over the death of her only son that probably God
had taken her son away in order to make her more patient.
That is horrible!
In that case, the cure is dreadfully out of proportion to the disease of impatience.
Those who set out "to justify the ways of God to man" need
a greater compassion of heart and mind than to use that kind of expression.
It would be a thousand times better that a person would just hold their tongue
rather than trying to explain the motives of God.
Someday, we will enter into the actual presence of God.
God has shed enough light upon this dark path for us to find our way.
It would be faithful for us and so much better for us to just wait to we till we get home,
and God will answer all our questions.
W. E. Sangster tells of a time when he was a small boy,
and was going on two week visit with some school friends.
On the night before he was to leave, he counted his money and came to the conclusion
that it was not enough.
So he went to his father to ask for more money.
His father listened to his reasoning with a quizzical smile and murmured something
about his ignorance of the value of money.
But Sangster said he left with the feeling that by the second week,
he would get some money in the mail form his father.
Sangster said that three days into his vacation, he decided to send his father a postcard
just to make sure his father would send the money.
He wrote, "Dear Dad -- Send cash."
But no answer came, the first week ended, and still there was no answer.
The second week began to slip away, and still there was no answer.
His friends begin to explain the absence of any mail or money from his father in their way.
One friend said, "He has forgotten that you are here."
Sangster said that he knew that was a lie, for he knew his Dad.
Another boy said, "He is too busy to bother with you."
Sangster said that he knew that was also a lie.
A third boy said "What do you think?"
And Sangster said, "I don't know what to think.
It is all a mystery to me.
I'll wait till I get home, and he will tell me himself."
And Sangster said, "When I got home it was all said that in two or three sentences.
Though I can still feel the sting of it, the look in his eyes was enough.
I saw in him how much he loved me, and what it had cost him to teach his son the value of money.
That discipline taught me the value of money for the rest of my life."
Sangster goes on to say that experience of boyhood has been a parable to him.
He said, "There are certain dark problems in my family life
which I have never been able fully to understand.
I had a little sister, my only sister, and she was the youngest in a family of boys.
She was an angel child who lived nine years, and most of those nine years she lived in pain.
Fourteen times in seven years she went under the surgeon's knife,
until she had been scarred of all her beauty.
She was so scarred that the family hid her to protect her from the stares
of those who didn't care and couldn't understand.
Five gaping wounds yawned in her head alone, and only the strong could bear
to look upon her dear, disfigured face.
And someone who looked said: "There is no God."
And others, though well-intentioned offered such shallow explanations."
Sangster said, "But I was dumb as a boy, and I was dumb as a man.
I had no explanation."
He said, "I gave to those who inquired about her the same answer
which I gave to my school friends years ago:
"I'll wait till I get home, and He'll tell me Himself."
By And By, When The Morning Comes
"Trials dark on every hand, and we cannot understand
all the ways of God would lead us to that blessed promised land;
but he guides us with his eye, and we'll follow till we die,
for we'll understand it better by and by. (
Temptations, hidden snares often take us unawares,
and our hearts are made to bleed for a thoughtless word or deed;
and we wonder why the test when we try to do our best,
but we'll understand it better by and by.
By and by, when the morning comes,
when the saints of God are gathered home,
we'll tell the story how we've overcome,
for we'll understand it better by and by."
-- Charles Albert Tindley
Then He will tell me Himself, and I will understand.
The most difficult task that pastors have is dealing with a succession of sad stories
and constant contact with sudden tragedy and seeing those who live writhing in pain,
and when every week brings its new flood of difficult duties that breaks the heart,
and when there are times when the human spirit rebels within us.
But all those things drive us to God and to prayer.
And always, when the human spirit is overwhelmed, and you think
you cannot face another tragedy, Jesus comes and shows us His wounds.
And that will be enough when we can gaze on those glorious scars that Jesus suffered for us.
It is enough!
He is able!
He is able to help the suffers for He has suffered Himself.
He is able to support the wavering faith of those who are tormented with doubt
through all the long nights.
He is able!
Does Jesus Care?
"Does Jesus care when my heart is pained
Too deeply for mirth or song,
As the burdens press, and the cares distress
And the way grows weary and long?
Does Jesus care when my way is dark
With a nameless dread and fear?
As the daylight fades into deep night shades,
Does He care enough to be near?
Does Jesus care when I've tried and failed
To resist some temptation strong;
When for my deep grief there is no relief,
Though my tears flow all the night long?
Does Jesus care when I've said "goodbye"
To the dearest on earth to me,
And my sad heart aches till it nearly breaks,
Is it aught to Him? Does He see?
Oh yes, He cares, I know He cares,
His heart is touched with my grief;
When the days are weary, the long nights dreary,
I know my Savior cares."
Sermon adapted from several sources by Dr. Harold L. White
