TEXT: Psalm 39, esp.v.9

SUBJECT: Mute Christian #6

For the last three years, we’ve spent our mid-week service in the study of great Puritan authors. Thus far, we’ve looked at Matthew Henry, John Owen, Richard Baxter, William Guthrie, and Thomas Brooks. At the moment, we’re on Thomas Brooks. His work is titled The Mute Christian Under the Smarting Rod. The topic is Suffering with Grace.

What does that mean? It doesn’t mean enjoying your problems—nobody does that! Rather, it means accepting them without sulking, griping, raging, or dumping all over people.

For the last few weeks, I’ve tried to explain why you should accept your problems with grace and offer some advice on how to do it. But last time, a friend asked me a good question. It went something like this,

If so, how does it square with other duties and Bible examples? For example, Galatians 6:2. How can you bear the burdens of another person if he doesn’t tell you what the burdens are? Or, James 5:16. How can you "confess your sins" to other people if you’re not allowed to talk about your problems? Or, how can they pray for you if they don’t know what’s wrong?

Then, of course, you have the Psalms. Many of which are complaints about bad health, bad men, and other bad problems. See Psalms 3, 6, 7, 69, 109, and so on.

Think also of the public mourning the prophets often called for. The fasting for sin; the pleading for deliverance; and the like.

If then, the Lord allows us to make noise when we hurt, how can the Puritan tell us that we ought to be silent under the rod? There are only two possible answers.

• The Puritan is wrong, i.e. ought to be noisy under the rod and not silent.

• He uses the word silent in a relative way. Not the silence of the dead, but the silence of the Christian.

What’s that? The Psalm explains it to us. David is suffering in some way or other. Bad men are watching to see how he’s going to handle it. They expect him to do what they would do. What’s that? They would pout, they would blame God, they would lash out at their enemies. David says, in this respect,

I didn’t make this very clear earlier, but the Puritan did. He gives us some sounds that are perfectly consistent with being mute under the smarting rod.

When the Lord tells you to be quiet in your problems, He’s not telling you to pretend they aren’t there. Jesus Christ felt pain—and made His feelings known. He knew bereavement (John 11:35); He knew fear (Matthew 26:38); He knew physical pain; He knew loneliness. He wasn’t ashamed of crying or trembling or crying out for help.

Thus, feeling your pain is not the same as griping about it. Here’s the Puritan quote,

And so, when God tells us to be silent in our problems, He doesn’t mean to pretend they aren’t there or they don’t matter. They are and they do. That’s Number One.

When God tells us to accept our problems, He’s not saying don’t pray about them. Three times Paul prayed for relief. The Lord didn’t take away his problems, but He also didn’t bawl him out for asking. Our Lord Himself prayed that way. Facing the cross, He begged His Father,

And the Lord, of course, never sinned or did anything the least displeasing to His Father. Thus, it’s not wrong to pray for relief, for healing, for money, or for other things you need. The Puritan says,

When the Lord tells us to submit to our problems, He’s not saying, Don’t pray. Of course not. That’s Number Two.

Many wounds are self-inflicted. We often get in trouble because we’re stubborn or lazy or quick-tempered or deceitful or some other bad thing.

When it occurs to you that your problems are of your own doing you should blame yourself for them! Two examples from the Bible stand out for me. One is a Pagan king; the other is a devout servant of God, Judges 1:7, Daniel 9:1-16.

Thomas Brooks has something to say on this one,

If your problems are caused by your own stupidity or sin, you ought to bawl yourself out! It’s good for you. And consistent with taking your problems like a Christian. That’s Number Three.

If your back hurts, there’s nothing wrong with groaning. If a loved one dies, there’s nothing wrong with crying. I Thessalonians 4:13 makes this very plain, believers,

Not that we don’t sorrow—we do—but we don’t sorrow to the same extent as unbelievers do. Why? Because no matter how bad things are for us, we have hope. We know that God will wipe away every tear.

The key word, then is "moderate". Godly silence is consistent with a moderate groaning or weeping. Now, one man’s moderation is another man’s immoderation. What seems quite reasonable to me could seem very extreme to you.

A lot can be said here, but let me offer three standards by which you can test your sorrow.

• Does your sorrow fit the problem? A lady once came to me hysterically upset by her husband. I asked her what his problem was. She told me "He has appalling table manners!" I told her she ought to be patient with him. If I had it to do over, though, I’d tell her she ought to be ashamed of herself! I’ve talked to wives whose husbands beat them, who came home drunk every night, who slept with other women, who molested their children, even! Don’t tell me about your husband eating spaghetti with his fingers. The sorrow didn’t fit the problem.
• Does your sorrow keep you from loving others? Problems have a way of taking our minds off others and putting them solely on ourselves. Some of this is natural—and not wrong. Obviously, I think more of my back if it’s killing me than if it feels fine. But if that’s all I can think of. If my aching back keeps me from praying for others or helping them in some way, then I can be sure that my sorrow is excessive. Let me give you an illustration from real life. I have a good friend who is stricken with cancer and does not expect to live. He called me the other day and told me a little bit about how he felt. But most of the time he spent encouraging me about my pastors’ fraternal. While he could have been thinking about his pain, his weakness, his needs, he was—in fact—thinking about a sign-up sheet, name tags, lunch, the key, the tapes, and other things that needed to be done if the seminar would be successful. He’s in pain, of course, very weak, and loaded down with concern—but his problems have not kept him from loving others!

• Does your sorrow make you ignore or blame God? If it does, it must be immoderate.

Here’s the quote,

If there’s a time to laugh and to dance, that means our sorrows—though many and real—cannot take over our lives. Sorrows, like everything else, have to be kept in moderation. That is possible, see the Lord Jesus Christ.

That’s Number Four.

Slavery was a big problem in the First Century. Paul never told anyone to run away from his master, but he did say, I Corinthians 7:21,

If problems can be solved or escaped in a lawful way, by all means get out of them! Think about it; talk about it; do it. There’s no lack of submission in that! There’s no quarrelling with Providence!

Brooks says,

Have you read The Pilgrim’s Progress? Not far from the City of Destruction, Christian falls into the Slough of Despond. As he wallows around in the muck and mire, a friend comes by named Mr. Help. If he were like some people I know, he would have said, "Son, I know it’s no fun down there, but take heart, it’ll do you good!". But, of course, he doesn’t do that. He pulls him out.

The Lord never tells us to wallow around in our problems when there are lawful ways of getting out of them. Trying to fix your marriage or pay your bills or get healthier is perfectly consistent with being silent under the smarting rod. That’s Number Five.

On this one, I’ll start with the quote from Thomas Brooks, and try to develop it,

Some problems are caused by bad people. A friend of mine is married to a wife nobody could live with! She could baffle the wisdom of Solomon, wear out the patience of Job, and break the power of Samson. He thinks he’s a terrible husband, but under the circumstances, I think he’s a saint and a martyr!

My friend could be better, of course, but most of his domestic problems are the direct result of living with a raving lunatic!

Is he allowed to complain to God? Can he explain his problem to a close friend? Brooks says he can, as long as his tale of woe is…"just and sober".

To be just and sober, he cannot exaggerate the faults of his wife, ascribe evil motives to her, disregard his own problems, or tell people who don’t need to know. All of these are manifestly unjust and unsober.

Suffering with grace is something everyone admires, but nobody wants to do. But do it we must. It pleases the Lord; it’s good for us; it makes our witness more effective in the world.

Do you have to be super-human to suffer with dignity? No you don’t. Brooks says God does not want us to be "Stones and statues". No He doesn’t. He wants us to be fully human. If His Son fears and weeps we can too.

But not any way we want to. Following Christ means we follow Him in His pains, His sorrows, His disappointments, and His losses.

We won’t be sorry. Even now, He "Catches our tears in His bottle and writes them in His book". One day, we’ll know the truth of God’s promise.

"Surely I come quickly. Even so, come Lord Jesus."