And, because it accomplishes this work, may be the reason why sorrow always wears a kind of supernatural character.It is true that blessings, equally with afflictions, come from Heaven; but this truth is not so generally felt.A sharp disappointment will suddenly drive us to God.The mariner of life sails, unthinking, over its prosperous seas, but a flaw of storm will bring him to his prayers.And religion, reason as we will, is peculiarly associated with affliction.And does not sorrow possess this supernatural air, not merely because it interrupts the usual order of things, but because, more than joy, it has a weaning and spiritual tendency,--is sent, as it were, more directly from God for this specific purpose? At least, after the sanctifying experience of sorrow, we hold our joys more religiously.
There are other tendencies of sorrow akin to this, upon which I might dwell, and which show the explanation that it receives in the Christian light.The humbling effect that it has upon the proud and hard-hearted; the equalizing result which it works, making the rich and poor, the obscure and the great, stand upon the level of the common humanity,--the common liability and dependence.I might, expanding the topic already touched upon, speak of the influence which sorrow sheds abroad, chastening the light, at tempering the draught of joy, and thus keeping our hearts better balanced than otherwise.But I have sufficiently illustrated its mission.I have shown its use, even its beauty, in the Christian view.I have shown why Christianity, as the universal religion, is rightly styled the "religion of sorrow," and why Christ, as the perfect teacher and example, was "a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief."Let us all, then, recognize the fact that life itself is a discipline.That for each of us sorrow is mingled with joy in order that this discipline may be accomplished.No one reaches the noon of life without some grief, some disappointment, some sharp trial, which assures him, if he will but heed it, that life is already declining, and that his spirit should train itself for a higher and more permanent state.In the failure of mortal excellence let him recognize the proof of an immortal good, and from the bitterness that mingles with these earthly waters, turn to drink of the celestial fountain.Of all things, let us not receive sorrow indifferently, or without reflection.Its mission is for discipline, but we feel it to be discipline only by recognizing its source and its meaning; "it yieldeth the peaceable fruits of righteousness" only "to them that are exercised thereby." Otherwise, it may come and go as the storm that rends the oak, or the drenching tempest that glides off as it falls.It may startle us for a moment,--it may hurt us with a sense of pain and loss,--it may awe us with its mystery; but unless it rouses us to solemn thought upon the meaning of life, to self-communion and prayer, to higher and holier action, it availeth little.It should not smite the heart's chords to wring from them a mere shriek of distress, but to inspire it with a deeper and more elevated tone, and by the element of sadness which it infuses make a more liquid and exquisite melody.
But while we are thus taught to chasten our views of life, and to hold even our joys with seriousness, and with wise forethought, let us not look upon things with any morbid vision, or cast over them a monotonous hue.Let us not live in gloom and bitterness.The Christian, of all others, is the best fitted for a cheerful and proper enjoyment of life, because he wisely recognizes the use of things, understands their evanescent nature, and sees the infinite goodness that has so ordained it.He is not surprised by sudden terrors.
He is prepared for sorrow, and thus can rest in peace with the good that he has; while those who bury heart and soul in the present enjoyment, and know nothing but sensual good, are broken down by calamity.The sudden change, like a thunder-gust, puts out their light, and darkens all their life; and it is they who are apt to fall from the summit of delight into a morbid gloom; while the Christian, with his balanced soul, inhabits neither extreme.
Finally, let us remember that it is not the object of sorrow to overcome, but to elevate; not to conquer us, but that we, by it, should conquer.It converts the thorns that wound us into a crown.It makes us strong by the baptism of tears.
The saint is always a hero.This explains that grand distinction between Heathen and Christian art, of which Ispoke in the commencement; that expression of power blended with agony,--of celestial beatitude refining itself upon the face of grief.Christianity has made martyrdom sublime, and sorrow triumphant.Christ is "the Captain of our salvation,"-the leader of "many sons unto glory;" for he was "a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief."
