Introduction
When the Lord Jesus descended from the mountain
after expounding the principles of God’s kingdom, He was met first
by a leper (see Matt. 8: 2), then by a centurion who had come on
behalf of his paralytic servant (see v5), and finally, when He had
arrived at the house, He saw Peter’s “mother–in–law laid down and in
a fever” (v14). Sickness met him at every turn, and His public
ministry was characterised by the healing of “all that were ill”
(v16). In the light of this, the presence (indeed, prevalence) of
sickness ought to raise a question in the believer’s mind as to the
purpose of God in allowing it, and the lessons to be gained thereby.
Sickness and
the Fall
There are sicknesses of every sort and
description. Who can count the ailments by which man’s bodily frame
may be assailed? Furthermore, though the medical profession may
continually discover new treatments and cures, the words of
Scripture remain as true as ever: “The days of our years are
threescore years and ten; and if, by reason of strength, they be
fourscore years, yet their pride is labour and vanity, for it is
soon cut off, and we fly away” (Ps. 90: 10). We are “fearfully,
wonderfully made” (Ps. 139: 14), but despite this, we all eventually
sicken and die (should the Lord not come)—even if our lives have
been lived in perfect health. What are we to make of this fact? Is
it possible that God created sickness and disease at the beginning?
Was He who made all things “very good” (Gen. 1: 31) also the maker
of needless suffering and pain? Not at all. No, something has come
into the world which, like gravel thrown into some machinery, has
marred the perfect order of God’s creation. As to the nature of that
intrusion, the Word of God does not leave us in any doubt: “by one
man sin entered into the world, and by sin death” (Rom. 5: 12).
Sin, not God, is the
cause of all the disease and suffering which prevail on the earth.
Sickness and pain are all part of that curse which came upon
creation when Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit and fell. There
would have been no sickness, if there had been no fall, there would
have been no disease, if there had been no sin. Man has sinned, and
therefore man suffers. Adam fell from his original position, and
therefore Adam’s children sicken and die.
Lessons for
the Unbeliever
Of course, the existence of sickness is a
favourite argument of the atheist: ‘Can God be a God of love and
mercy when He allows suffering and pain?’ Yet there is no difficulty
in reconciling the prevalence of disease with the love of God if we
only look at what is going on around us. Observe the extent to which
men constantly submit to present loss for the sake of future gain,
present sorrow for the sake of future joy and present pain for the
sake of future health. The child is sent to school in tears, but in
the hope of his getting future knowledge, and the parent undergoes
some fearful surgical operation with a view to future health. Apply
this same principle to God’s government of the world. God allows
pain, sickness, and disease, not because He loves to vex man, but
because He desires to bring man into blessing
for all eternity.
Sickness helps to remind men of death. Most
live like they were never going to die. They follow business or
pleasure as if the earth is their eternal home, and plan and scheme
for the future like the rich fool in the parable (see Luke 12:
16–21). A heavy illness sometimes awakens men from their day–dreams,
and reminds them that life here is not forever, but that they have
to die one day.
Sickness also helps to make people think
seriously of God, their souls, and the world to come. In their days
of health, men do not like to think about such things, and dispel
them from their minds. A severe disease has a wonderful power of
mustering and rallying these thoughts, and bringing them up before
the eyes of the soul.
Furthermore, sickness helps to adjust an
individual’s weights and measures of earthly things. The natural
heart can see no good in anything which is not of this life, and no
happiness excepting in this world. A long illness sometimes goes far
to correct these ideas. It exposes the emptiness and hollowness of
the things that the world regards as important. Money, fashion,
celebrity and politics are miserable comforters in the sick room.
Sickness also helps to level and humble
people. There are not many who do not look down on someone else, and
secretly flatter themselves that they are “not as the rest of men”
(Luke 18: 11). The sick bed forces on them the painful truth that
they are merely poor worms which “dwell in houses of clay” and are
“crushed as the moth” (Job 4: 19). It brings home the solemn truth
that death is no respecter of persons and that all, whether kings or
subjects, rich or poor, must soon stand side by side at the
judgment–seat of God (see Rom. 14: 10). In the sight of the coffin
and the grave it is not easy to be proud.
Finally, sickness helps to try men’s faith, to
see what sort it is. Few have a religion that will bear inspection.
Most are content with traditions received from their fathers, and
can give no reason for their hope of future blessing. Better to come
to the conclusion on the sick–bed that I have been worshipping an
“unknown God” (Acts 17: 23), than to find it out at the great white
throne (see Rev. 20: 11)! Many a creed looks well on the smooth
waters of health, but turns out to be useless on the rough waves of
the sick bed. Just as the storms of winter often bring out the
defects in a man’s house (see Matt. 7: 26, 27), so sickness often
exposes the poverty of a man’s soul.
Alas, myriads are laid low by illness and
restored to health, who evidently learn no lesson from their sick
beds, and millions are passing through sickness to the grave, while
receiving no more spiritual impression from it than the beasts that
perish. While they live they have no feeling, and when they die
there are “no pangs in their death” (Psalm 73: 4). Yet I believe
that in many cases ill–health is one of the greatest aids to the
evangelist, and that the truth and force of the Gospel is often
brought home in the day of sickness when it was neglected in the day
of health.
Sickness in
the Believer
So much for the unbeliever: what of the
believer? Sickness is no respecter of persons: Christians and
non–Christians fall ill alike. The believer does not yet have his
body of glory (see Phil. 3: 21), and as far as his outward frame is
concerned, he still bears “the image of the [one] made of dust” (1
Cor. 15: 49). His body is weak, corruptible and mortal (see vs. 43,
53). Nowhere do we read (as some teach) that God’s children are
supposed to be physically healthy, and that sickness is a sure sign
of some hidden sin and a feeble faith. Attention has been drawn to
Matt. 8: 17 “Himself took our infirmities and bore our diseases” as
if this means that Christ’s death did away with illness for the
believer, but this Scripture was fulfilled not at the Cross, but in
the Lord’s public ministry.
There are many Scriptural examples of godly
persons being ill. Lazarus was a child of God and a friend of
Christ, and there is nothing to suggest that he had done anything to
warrant divine displeasure—and yet he was sick (see John 11: 1)!
This is not to say that sicknesses are never the result of sin.
Certainly in the case of those at Corinth it was on account of
unfaithfulness that “many among you [are] weak and infirm” (1 Cor.
11: 30), but it is also true that many a
faithful saint has been
laid upon a bed of sickness. Job’s integrity was such that Jehovah
testified to Satan about it (see Job 1: 8), but the same Jehovah
allowed His servant to be smitten “with a grievous botch from the
sole of his foot unto his crown” (Job 2: 7). Lazarus’ sickness was
“for the glory of God” (John 11: 4)—in much the same way as the
blindness of the man of John 9 was not on account of some personal
wickedness, “but that the works of God should be manifested in him”
(v3).
Another prevalent idea, namely that sickness
afflicts us at random, and is a matter of chance or fate, is a
shameful position for a Christian to adopt. “All things”—not ‘some
things’—“work together for good to those who love God, to those who
are called according to purpose” (Rom. 8: 28). King Solomon’s wise
counsel was to “despise not the instruction of Jehovah, neither be
weary of his chastisement; for whom Jehovah loveth he chasteneth,
even as a father the son in whom he delighted” (Prov. 3: 11, 12).
This Scripture is quoted and expanded on by the writer of Hebrews
12: 5–11, demonstrating that it is normal for the Christian to have
to endure trials (of which sickness is an example) in order for God
to form a Christ–like character in the believer. Hence, instead of
being anxious to
get out of
circumstances, the believer ought to be concerned to know the
purpose of God in passing him
through those
circumstances.
Practical
Lessons for the Christian
Sickness is no doubt an irksome thing to flesh
and blood—it is one of the “various trials” by which we can be “put
to grief” (1 Pet. 1: 6). To feel our nerves unstrung and our natural
force abated, to have to sit still and be cut off from all our usual
activities, to see our plans disrupted and our purposes
disappointed, to endure days and nights of weariness and pain—all
this puts a severe strain on bodies and minds. It is not a wonder if
irritation and impatience are brought out by illness, even in the
most pious of saints! How then shall we learn to bear sickness
patiently, if through sickness we must pass? We need, as it were, to
lay up stores in the time of plenty against the time of famine. We
must seek for the sanctifying influence of the Holy Spirit now, when
well, over our unruly tempers and dispositions. We must make a real
business of our prayers from today, and ask for strength, not only
to
do but, to
endure God’s will. Christianity does not only consist of
actively serving God, but also involves the formation of Christ–like
qualities in the believer. Meekness, long–suffering, and endurance
are examples of these (see Gal. 5: 22; 2 Tim. 3: 10) but, being
passive graces, they probably receive far less notice than they
deserve. Never do these characteristics shine so brightly as they do
in the sick room! They often make men think—men who despise the more
active side of the Christian character—and they enable many a sick
person to preach a silent but powerful sermon which God can use for
the blessing of souls. Sick believers need to remember that they can
honour the Lord as much by patient suffering as they can by active
work. It is easy it is to be overcome by bitterness and resentment
against God when one is laid aside by disease, but none of us is
indispensable to Him, and we need to remember that He has far more
to do
in us than
through us. “In pressure”
said King David “thou hast enlarged me” (Ps. 4: 1).
Healing
There is almost an obsession among many
Christians about healing, such that spiritual power is directly
equated with the supposed ability to cure disease. Some have reacted
to this by saying that God does not heal
at all today, but this
view has no basis in Scripture and places illogical and irreverent
limits on divine omnipotence. What Scripture
does reveal is that
healing was quite frequent in the beginning of the book of Acts but
declined thereafter, and seems to have died out completely by the
time of the prison epistles. The reason for this is that miraculous
healing is linked to the testimony of the kingdom and as the
rejection of the kingdom increases as we pass through Acts, so the
expression of the so–called sign gifts decreases. Once the kingdom
had finally been rejected, there was no longer any need for the sign
gifts and they vanished. Healing today (and by that I mean real
healing) has nothing to do with the gift of healing, and is
unusual. Paul left
Trophimus at Miletus sick (see 2 Tim 4: 20)—he did not heal him.
Epaphroditus was “sick close to death” (Phil. 2: 27), but it is
baseless to suppose that he was healed miraculously. Timothy was
exhorted, not to look for a miracle, but to “use a little wine on
account of thy stomach and thy frequent illnesses” (1 Tim. 5: 23).
James 5: 14, 15 is often quoted in the context
of healing: “Is any sick among you? let him call to [him] the elders
of the assembly, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil
in the name of [the] Lord; and the prayer of faith shall heal the
sick, and the Lord shall raise him up; and if he be one who has
committed sins, it shall be forgiven him”. Several things need to be
said about this Scripture. Firstly, if any think themselves to be
the “elders of the assembly” then they are being very presumptuous
in the current state of things. Secondly, there is nothing
intrinsically miraculous about the anointing with oil. Rather it is
medicinal, to be used in conjunction with faith. Timothy was to use
a little wine (1 Tim. 5: 23), Hezekiah was treated with “a cake of
figs” (2 Kings 20: 7; Is. 38: 21), while oil is the means used here.
The key thing is the prayer of faith. Thirdly, if the sick person
had committed sins, James says it shall be forgiven him. However it
needs to borne in mind that there is a character of sin and
associated illness that leads
inevitably to death.
John calls that “a sin to death” and remarks that “I do not say of
that that he should make a request” (1 John 5: 16).
Care for
Others
One duty which the prevalence of sickness
entails on the believer is that of a habitual readiness to feel with
and help our fellow–saints: “and if one member suffer, all the
members suffer with [it]” (1 Cor. 12: 26). Sickness is never very
far from us. There are not many families who have not some sick
relative, and few are the Christian gatherings where you will not
find someone ill. But wherever there is sickness, there is a call to
duty. A little timely assistance, a kindly visit, a friendly
inquiry, an expression of sympathy—any of these may do much good.
Every professing Christian should be ready to do such works (see
Titus 3: 1). In a world full of sickness and disease we ought to
“bear one another’s burdens” and to be “to one another kind” (Gal.
6: 2; Eph. 4: 32). The Lord Himself was ever going about “doing
good” to the sick and sorrowful (Acts 10: 38), and in the day of
judgment He attaches great importance to such acts: “I was ill, and
ye visited me” (Matt. 25: 36). Beware then, of that unfeeling
selfishness which is manifested in a neglect of your sick brethren.
Search them out, assist them if they need aid, show your sympathy
with them and try to lighten their burdens. Most important of all,
strive to do good to their souls. It will do
you good even if it does
no good to them.
Above all, we need to bring the suffering of
our brethren to Christ. This is what Mary and Martha did when
Lazarus fell sick. Mark the childlike faith of these holy women:
“The sisters therefore sent to him” (John 11: 3). As the frightened
infant turns to its mother, so they turned to the Lord Jesus in
their hour of need. Different as they were in natural temperament,
the two sisters in this matter were entirely agreed: Christ’s help
was their first thought in the day of trouble. Note also the simple
humility of their language about Lazarus. They do not say, ‘He who
loves Thee, or serves Thee’, but “he whom
thou
lovest” (v3, my emphasis). Martha and Mary had
learned that Christ’s love towards us, and not our love towards
Christ, is the real foundation of hope. To look inward to our love
towards Christ is painfully unsatisfying; to look outward to
Christ’s love towards us brings peace in trouble.
Conclusion
I believe that the want of whole–hearted
committal to Christ is the secret of our lack of comfort, both in
health and sickness. If you and I want “grace for seasonable help”
(Heb. 4: 16) in our time of need, then we must seek to cultivate
real communion with Christ day by day. The time may come when, after
a long fight with disease, we shall feel that medicine can do no
more and that nothing remains but to die. Friends will be standing
by, unable to help us. Hearing, eyesight, memory, and even our
minds, will be fast failing us. The world and its shadows will be
melting beneath our feet. Eternity, with its realities, will be
looming large before our minds. What shall support us in that trying
hour? What shall enable us to say, “I will fear no evil” (Ps. 23:
4)?
Nothing can do it but close
communion with Christ.
The time is short. We travel towards
a world where there is no more sickness and crying, and where
parting and pain are done with forever. The cloud of witnesses ahead
is becoming more numerous than the friends astern. “For yet a very
little while and he that comes will come, and will not delay” (Heb.
10: 37.) In His presence shall be fullness of joy (see Ps. 16: 11),
for God shall wipe away all tears from His people’s eyes (see Rev.
21: 4). In the meantime let us lean all our weight on Christ, and
rejoice in the thought that He lives for evermore—the Blessed One
who will one day change our body of humiliation into conformity to
His glorious body (see Phil. 3: 21).
