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Joseph Charles Philpot Bevindelijke geschriften & prediking

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Philpot Pearls — Part 4: Trouble, Sorrow, and Affliction (Part 1 of 2)

19 min. read

“And He led them forth by the right way, that they might go to a city of habitation.” Psalm 107:7

Those very times when God’s people think they are faring ill, may be the seasons when they are really faring well. For instance, when their souls are bowed down with trouble, it often seems to them that they are faring ill. God’s hand appears to be gone out against them. Yet perhaps they never fare better than when under these circumstances of trouble, sorrow, and affliction. These things wean them from the world.

If their heart and affections were going out after idols—they instrumentally bring them back.

If they were hewing out broken cisterns —they dash them all to pieces.

If they were setting up, and bowing down to idols in the chambers of imagery, affliction and trouble smite them to pieces before their eyes—take away their gods—and leave them no refuge but the Lord God of hosts.

So that when a child of God thinks he is faring very ill, because burdened with sorrows, temptations, and afflictions—he is never faring so well. The darkest clouds in due time will break, the most puzzling enigmas will sooner or later be unriddled by the blessed Spirit interpreting them—and the darkest providences cleared up—and we shall see that God is in them all—leading and guiding us by the right way, that we may go to a city of habitation.

If you are at home in the world

“We are here for only a moment, sojourners and strangers in the land as our ancestors were before us. Our days on earth are like a shadow, gone so soon without a trace.” 1 Chron. 29:15

If you possess the faith of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, you, like them, confess that you are a stranger; and your confession springs out of a believing heart and a sincere experience.

You feel yourself a stranger in this ungodly world.

It is not your element.

It is not your home.

You are in it during God’s appointed time, but you wander up and down this world . . . a stranger to its company, a stranger to its maxims, a stranger to its fashions, a stranger to its principles, a stranger to its motives, a stranger to its lusts, a stranger to its inclinations—and all in which this world moves as in its native element.

Grace has separated you by God’s sovereign power, that though you are in the world, you are not of it.

I can tell you plainly if you are at home in the world—if the things of time and sense are your element—if you feel one with . . . the company of the world, the maxims of the world, the fashions of the world, and the principles of the world, grace has not reached your heart—the faith of God’s elect does not dwell in your bosom.

The first effect of grace is to separate.

It was so in the case of Abraham. He was called by grace to leave the land of his fathers, and go out into a land that God would show him. And so God’s own word to His people is now, “Come out from among them, and be separate, says the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing; and I will receive you, and will be a Father unto you, and you shall be My sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty.”

Separation, separation, separation from the world; is the grand distinguishing mark of vital godliness.

There may be indeed separation of body where there is no separation of heart. But what I mean is . . . separation of heart, separation of principle, separation of affection, separation of spirit. And if grace has touched your heart, and you are a partaker of the faith of God’s elect—you are a stranger in the world—and will make it manifest by your life and conduct that you are such.

From a burning hell—to a blissful heaven!

“I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.” Romans 8:18

What is to be compared with the salvation of the soul? What are—riches, honors, health, long life? What are all the pleasures which the world can offer, sin promise, or the flesh enjoy? What is all that men call good or great? What is everything which the eye has seen, or the ear heard, or has entered into the carnal heart of man—put side by side with being saved in the Lord Jesus Christ with an everlasting salvation?

For consider what we are saved FROM, as well as what we are saved UNTO.

From a burning hell—to a blissful heaven!

From endless wrath—to eternal glory!

From the dreadful company of devils and damned spirits, mutually tormenting and tormented—to

the blessed companionship of the glorified saints, all perfectly conformed in body and soul to the image of Christ, with thousands and tens of thousands of holy angels—and, above all, to seeing the glorious Son of God as he is, in all the perfection of His beauty, and all the ravishments of His presence and love.

To be done forever with . . . all the sorrows, troubles, and afflictions of this life; all the pains and aches of the present clay tabernacle; all the darkness, bondage, and misery of the body of sin and death.

To be perfectly holy in body and soul, being in both without spot, or blemish, or any such thing, and ever to enjoy uninterrupted communion with God!

Our own wisdom, righteousness, and strength

“Do not deceive yourselves. If any one of you thinks he is wise by the standards of this age, he should become a “fool” so that he may become wise.” 1 Cor. 3:18

The fruit and effect of divine teaching is—to cut in pieces, and root up all our fleshly . . . wisdom, strength, and righteousness.

God never means to patch a new piece upon an old garment. All our wisdom, our strength, our righteousness must be torn to pieces! It must all be plucked up by the roots—that a new wisdom, a new strength, and a new righteousness may arise upon its ruins.

But until the Lord is pleased to teach us—we never can part with our own righteousness, never give up our own wisdom, never abandon our own strength. These things are a part and parcel of ourselves—so ingrained within us—so innate in us—so growing with our growth—that we cannot willingly part with an atom of them until the Lord Himself breaks them up, and plucks them away.

Then, as He brings into our souls some spiritual knowledge of our own dreadful corruptions and horrible wickedness—our righteousness crumbles away at the divine touch.

As He leads us to see and feel our ignorance and folly in a thousand instances—and how unable we are to understand anything aright but by divine teaching—our wisdom fades away.

As He shows us our inability to resist temptation and overcome sin, by any exertion of our own— our strength gradually departs—and we become like Samson, when his locks were cut off.

Upon the ruins, then, of our own wisdom, righteousness, and strength, does God build up Christ’s wisdom, Christ’s righteousness, and Christ’s strength.

But only so far as we are favored with this special teaching are we brought to pass a solemn sentence of condemnation upon our own wisdom, strength, and righteousness—and sincerely seek after the Lord’s.

Oh! sweet grace, blessed grace!

“For it is by grace you have been saved.” Ephesians 2:8

We are saved by grace . . . free grace, rich grace, sovereign grace, distinguishing grace—without one atom of works, without one grain of creature merit, without anything of the flesh.

Oh! sweet grace, blessed grace!

Oh! what a help—what a strength—what a rest for a poor toiling, striving, laboring soul—to find that grace has done all the work—to feel that grace has triumphed in the cross of Christ—to find that . . . nothing is required, nothing is needed, nothing is to be done!

Dying?

“As dying, and, behold, we live.” 2 Corinthians 6:9

Though we die, and die daily—yet, behold, we live. And in a sense, the more we die, the more we live.

The more we die to self, the more we die to sin.

The more we die to pride and self-righteousness, the more we die to creature strength.

The more we die to sinful nature, the more we live to grace.

This runs all the way through the life and experience of a Christian.

Nature must die, that grace may live.

The weeds must be plucked up, that the crop may grow.

The flesh must be starved, that the spirit may be fed.

The old man must be put off, that the new man may be put on.

The deeds of the body must be mortified, that the soul may live unto God.

As then we die—we live.

The more we die to our own strength, the more we live to Christ’s strength.

The more we die to creature hope, the more we live to a good hope through grace.

The more we die to our own righteousness, the more we live to Christ’s righteousness.

The more we die to the world, the more we live to and for heaven.

This is the grand mystery—that the Christian is always dying, yet always living—and the more he dies, the more he lives.

The death of the flesh, is the life of the spirit.

The death of sin, is the life of righteousness.

The death of the creature, is the very life of God in the soul.

“As dying, and, behold, we live.” 2 Corinthians 6:9

You were bought with a price!

“You were bought with a price!” 1 Cor. 6:20

How deep, how dreadful, of what alarming magnitude, of how black a dye, of how ingrained a stamp— must sin be, to need such an atonement, no less than the blood of the Son of God, to put it away!

What a slave to sin and Satan, what a captive to the power of lust, how deeply sunk, how awfully degraded, how utterly lost and undone, must guilty man be—to need a sacrifice like this!

Have you ever felt your bondage to sin, Satan, and the world? Have you ever—groaned, cried, grieved, sorrowed, and lamented under your miserable captivity to the power of sin?

Has the iron ever entered into your soul? Have you ever clanked your fetters, and as you did so, and tried to burst them—they seemed to bind round about you with a weight scarcely endurable?

You were slaves of sin and Satan. You were shut up in the dark cell, where all was gloom and despondency. There was little hope in your soul of ever being saved.

But there was an entrance of gospel light into your dungeon—there was a coming out of the house of bondage! “You were bought with a price!”

Which is better?

“You are not your own.” 1 Corinthians 6:19

Remember that you must belong to someone.

If God is not your master—the devil will be.

If grace does not rule—sin will reign.

If Christ is not your all in all—the world will be.

We must have a master of one kind or another.

Which is better . . . a bounteous benevolent Benefactor; a merciful, loving, and tender Parent; a kind, forgiving Father and Friend; a tender-hearted, compassionate Redeemer? or a cruel devil, a miserable world, and a wicked, vile, abominable heart?

Which is better . . . to live under the sweet constraints of the dying love of a dear Redeemer—under . . . gospel influences, gospel principles, gospel promises, and gospel encouragements? or to live with sin in our heart, binding us in iron chains to the judgment of the great day?

Even taking the ‘present life’—there is more real pleasure, satisfaction, and solid happiness . . . in half an hour with God, in reading his Word with a believing heart, in finding access to His sacred presence, in knowing something of His favor and mercy—than in . . . all the delights of sin, all the lusts of the flesh, all the pride of life, and all the amusements that the world has ever devised to kill time and cheat self—thinking, by a deathbed repentance, at last to cheat the devil.

Conflicts, trials, painful exercises, sharp sorrows, and deep temptations

“The Lord tries the righteous.” Psalm 11:5

To keep water fresh, it must be perpetually running. And to keep the life of God up in the soul, there must be continual trials.

This is the reason why the Lord’s people have so many . . . conflicts, trials, painful exercises, sharp sorrows, and deep temptations—to keep them alive unto God—to bring them out of, and to keep them out of that slothful, sluggish, wretched state of carnal security.

The Lord, therefore, “tries the righteous.” He will not allow His people . . . to be at ease in Zion; to be settled on their lees, and get into a wretched Moabitish state.

He therefore sends upon them afflictions, tribulations, and trials—and allows Satan to tempt and harass them.

Personal, spiritual, experimental knowledge of Jesus It is our dim, scanty, and imperfect knowledge of the Lord Jesus Christ in His eternal love—and in His grace and glory—which leaves us so often cold, lifeless, and dead in our affections towards Him.

If there were more blessed revelations to our soul of the Person and work, grace and glory, beauty and blessedness of the Lord Jesus Christ—it is impossible but that we would more and more warmly and tenderly fall in love with Him—for He is the most glorious object that the eyes of faith can see!

He fills heaven with the resplendent beams of His glorious majesty—and has ravished the hearts of thousands of His dear family upon earth by the manifestations of His bleeding, dying love. Just in proportion to our personal, spiritual, experimental knowledge of Him, will be our love to Him.

I have loved you with an everlasting love

The Lord has appeared of old unto me, saying, “Yes, I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore with loving kindness have I drawn you.” Jeremiah 31:3

There can be no new thought in the mind of GOD.

New thoughts, new feelings, new plans, new resolutions continually occur to OUR mind—for ours is but a . . . poor, fallen, fickle, changeable nature.

But God has no new—thoughts, feelings, plans or resolutions. For if He had, He would be a ‘changeable’ Being—not one great, eternal, unchangeable ‘I Am’. All His thoughts, therefore, all His plans, all His ways are like Himself . . . eternal, infinite, unchanging, unchangeable.

The love of Christ to His Church is also—eternal, unchanging, unchangeable. And why? Because He loves as Deity.

O what a mercy it is for those who have any gracious, experimental knowledge of the love of Christ—to believe it is from everlasting to everlasting—that no incidents of time, no storms of sin or Satan, can ever change or alter that eternal love—but that it remains now and will remain the same to all eternity!

Help from the sanctuary “May the Lord answer you when you are in distress—may the name of the God of Jacob protect you. May he send you help from the sanctuary and grant you support from Zion.” Psalm 20:1-2

When the soul has to pass through the trying hour of temptation, it needs help from the sanctuary. All other help leaves the soul just where it found it.

Help is sent from the sanctuary because his name has been from all eternity . . . registered in the Lamb’s book of life, engraved upon the palms of His hands, borne on His shoulder, and worn on His heart.

Communications of life and grace from the sanctuary produce spirituality and heavenly-mindedness. The breath of heaven in his soul . . . draws his affections upward, weans him from earth, and makes him a pilgrim and a sojourner here below, “looking for a city which has foundations, whose builder and maker is God.”

Holy wrestling

Wherever the Lord brings trials upon the soul, He pours out upon it the spirit of grace and supplication.

If the child of God has a burden; if he is laboring under a strong temptation; if his soul is passing through some pressing trial; he is not satisfied with merely going through a ‘form of prayer’. There is at such times and seasons, a holy wrestling . . . there are fervent desires; there are unceasing groans; there is a laboring to enter into rest; there is a struggling after deliverance; there is a crying unto the Lord—until He appears and manifests Himself in the soul.

A disciple of Jesus

A disciple of Jesus is one who is admitted by the Lord Jesus into His school—whom He Himself condescends personally to instruct—and who therefore learns of Him to be meek and lowly of heart.

A disciple of Jesus is one who sits meekly at the Redeemer’s feet—receiving into his heart the gracious words which fall from His lips.

But a true and sincere disciple not only listens to his Master’s instructions, but acts as He bids. So a disciple of Jesus is one who copies his Master’s example—and is conformed to his Master’s image.

A disciple of Jesus is also characterized by the love which he bears to his Master—he is one who treasures up the words of Christ in his heart—ponders over His precious promises—and delights in His glorious Person, love, and blood.

A disciple of Jesus is one who bears some reflection to the image of his heavenly Master—he carries it about with him wherever he goes—that men may take knowledge of him, that he has been with Jesus. The true disciple shines before men with some sparkles of the glory of the Son of God.

To have some of these divine features stamped upon the heart, lip, and life—is to be a disciple of Jesus.

To be much with Jesus is to be made like unto Jesus—to sit at Jesus’ feet is to drink in Jesus’ words—to lean upon Jesus’ breast is to feel the warm heart of Jesus pulsating with love—and to feel this pulsation, causes the heart of the disciple to beat in tender and affectionate unison—to look up to Jesus, is to see a face more marred than the sons of men; yet a face beaming with heavenly beauty, dignity, and glory.

To be a disciple of Jesus, is to copy His example—to do the things pleasing in His sight—and to avoid the things which He abhors.

To be a disciple of Jesus, is to be as . . . meek as He was; humble as He was; lowly as He was; self-denying as He was; separate from the world as He was; living a life of communion with God—as He lived when He walked here below.

To take a worm of the earth and make him a disciple of Jesus is the greatest privilege God can bestow upon man! To select an obstinate, ungodly, perverse rebel, and place him in the school of Christ and at the feet of Jesus—is the highest favor God can bestow upon any child of the dust.

How unsurpassingly great must be that kindness whereby the Lord condescends to bestow His grace on an enemy—and to soften and meeken him by His Spirit—and thus cause him to grow up into the image and likeness of His own dear Son. Compared with this high privilege—all earthly honors, titles and robes sink into utter insignificance.

Sovereign, supreme disposal

“And God placed all things under His feet and appointed Him to be head over everything,” Ephesians 1:22

How vast—how numerous—how complicated are the various events and circumstances which attend the Christian here below, as he travels onward to his heavenly home!

But if all things are put under Jesus’ feet—there cannot be a single circumstance over which He has not supreme control. Everything in providence and everything in grace are alike subject to His disposal. There is not . . . a trial, a temptation, an affliction of body or soul, a loss, a cross, a painful bereavement, a vexation, a grief, a disappointment, a case, state or condition, which is not put under Jesus’ feet.

He has sovereign, supreme disposal over all events and circumstances. As possessed of infinite knowledge He sees them—as possessed of infinite wisdom He can manage them—and as possessed of infinite power He can dispose and direct them for our good and His own glory.

How much trouble and anxiety would we save ourselves, could we firmly believe, realize, and act on this!

If we could see by the eye of faith that . . . every foe and every fear, every difficulty and perplexity, every trying or painful circumstance, every looked-for or unlooked-for event, every source of care, whether at present or in prospect—are all put under His feet—at His sovereign disposal—what a load of anxiety and care would be often taken off our shoulders!

You must not love one of these glittering baubles “Do not love the world or anything in the world.” 1 John 2:15

This is a very wide sentence. It stretches forth a hand of vast grasp. It places us, as it were, upon a high mountain, and it says to us, “Look around you—there is not one of these things which you must love.”

It takes us, again, to the streets of a crowded city—it shows us shop windows filled with objects of beauty and ornament—it points us to all the wealth and grandeur of the rich and noble, and everything that the human heart admires and loves. And having thus set before us, it says, “None of these things are for you. You must not love one of these glittering baubles—you must not touch one of them, or scarcely look at them, lest, as with Achan, the golden wedge and the Babylonish garment should tempt you to take them and hide them in your tent.”

The precept takes us through the world as a mother takes a child through a bazaar—with playthings and ornaments on every side—and says, “You must not touch one of these things.”