A Letter to a Friend in Trouble
Excerpts from John Newton's "A Letter to a Friend in Trouble"
Read the inscription, " As sorrowful, yet always rejoicing."
No wonder that weave often sorrowing in such a world as
this; but to be always rejoicing, though in the midst of tribulation, this may
seem strange, but it is no more strange than true.
When I want witness to this truth in open court, I may
confidently subpoena you to confirm it. They who would always rejoice, must
derive their joy from a source which is invariably the same, in other words,
from Jesus. Oh, that name! what a person, what an office, what a love, what
a life, what a death, does it recall to our minds!
Come, madam, let us leave our troubles to themselves for a
while, and let us walk to Golgotha, and there take a view of his. We stop, as
we are going, at Gethsemane, for it is not a step out of the road. There he
lies, bleeding, though not wounded, or if wounded, it is by an invisible, an
almighty hand. Now I begin to see what sin has done. Now let me bring my
sorrows, and compare, measure, and weigh them, against the sorrows of my
Savior! Foolish attempt, to weigh a mote against a mountain, against the
universe! Thus far we have attained already and aim to say.
Now let our pains be all forgot, our hearts no more repine!
Our sufferings are not worth a thought, When, Lord, compared with thine.
We are still more confirmed at our next station. Now we are
at the foot of the cross. Behold the Man! attend to his groans; contemplate his
wounds. Now let us sit down here a while and weep for our crosses if we can.
For our crosses? Nay rather let us weep for our sins, which brought the son of
God into such distress. Agreed. I feel that we, not He, deserved to be
crucified, and to be utterly forsaken.
But this is not all: his death not only shows our desert
but seals our pardon. For a fuller proof, let us take another station. Now
we are at his tomb. But the stone is rolled away. He is not here. He is risen.
The debt is paid, and the surety discharged. Not here! where then is He? Look
up! Methinks the clouds part, and glory breaks through—Behold a throne! What a
transition! He who hung upon the cross, is seated upon the throne! Hark!
'he speaks! May every word sink deep into your heart and mine! He says, "I
know your sorrows, yea I appoint them; they are tokens of my love; it is
thus I call you to the honor of following me, see a place prepared for you near
to myself! Fear none of these things: he thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life."
It is enough, Lord. Now then let us compute, let us
calculate again.
These scales are the balances of the sanctuary. Let us put
in our trials and griefs on one side. What an alteration! I thought them lately
very heavy: now I find them light, the scale hardly turns with them. But how
shall we manage to put in the weight on the other side? It is heavy indeed: an
exceeding, eternal weight of glory. It is beyond my grasp and power. No matter.
Comparison is needless. I see with the glance of an eye, there is no
proportion. I am content. I am satisfied. I am ashamed. Have I been so long
mourning, and is this all the cause? Well, if the flesh will grieve, it shall
grieve by itself. The Spirit, the Lord enabling me, shall rejoice, yea it does.
From this moment I wipe away my tears, and forbid them to
flow; or, if I must weep, they shall be tears of gratitude, love, and joy! The
bitter is sweet; the medicine is food. But the cloud closes. I can no longer
see what I lately saw, However, I have seen it. I know it is there. He ever
lives full of compassion and care, to plead for me above, to manage for me
below. He is mine, and I am his: therefore, all is well. I hope this little
walk will do us both good.
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