I. Their prevalence. Ebbs and tides of feeling are common to all life, good or bad. Religious moods are as frequent, as uncertain, and as unmanageable as any other moods, and under given conditions are absolutely beyond our control. To force ourselves up into a high state of spiritual feeling is a matter we can’t always do. Important occasions do not always find us with the necessary power, however we may have laboured for it. There is spring and summer, autumn and winter, in nature; in fact, everything in nature suggests that we must have our pauses and rests, that it is impossible to continue in one strain of thought or action without cessation or change. Beware of passing sweeping condemnations on yourself, or on others, in moments of spiritual dearth.
II. The general causes of religious fluctuation.
1. Take the constitutional.
(1) To begin with the physical. Any defect in the vital digestive organs will change the whole course of a man’s religious life. His variations, unaccountable tossings and reelings and fitfulnesses, are in very many cases the result entirely of some physical infirmity.
(2) Or it may be mental. It is wonderful how our emotions and susceptibilities are bound up with our intellectual nature. It is the brain, the bodily organism, that gives identity, distinction, character to all our life. In one sense the material is simply an instrument of the spiritual nature; but in another, and a very important sense, it is the ruling and dominating element, as far as our emotions, feelings, and experience are concerned--the spiritual taking all its complexion from the material. The wavering that may be seen in one, when another is prompt to act, is just because the intellect very frequently keeps the will in restraint. Some people act on impulse, not on reason, on probabilities that a sound and vigorous mind would not dare to trust.
(3) But again, our experience varies a good deal from another point of constitutional infirmity, and that is the moral point of view. One of the great mysteries of life is the inequalities of moral perceptions that are found in the world, irrespective of the grace of God. One man’s natural tendencies all lie towards sin; and right feeling and right doing is a perpetual conflict. No wonder if he is often overwhelmed with despair.
2. Providential, i.e. causes beyond our own control, not set in motion by our wish or desire, or by our negligence--and of all the heroes mentioned in the Bible, none suffered more in this respect than Job. When Providence inflicts wounds, sends you sorrow, don’t dream your heaviness of soul is an indication of a faithless heart. God is testing, sifting you. Have faith; all is well; grace is not yielding to sin. When it must be winter in your soul don’t you try to make it summer. “Whom the Lord loveth He,” etc.
3. Characteristic. And--
(1) amongst these is an inordinate expectation of assistance from others, which in some people amounts to nothing more nor less than a radical misconception of what religion really is. If life is to be great, noble, blessed, it must grow out of sacred independence. Religious feeling, growth, power, are not developed by the caresses and fondnesses of our friends. Your own resources are better than all other resources put together, of whatever kind or nature. Until you can get the nature of the sturdy oak, that welcomes alike the cold of winter and the piercing heat of summer, you will be in a fluctuating condition all the days of your life. Like a weather glass, as far as spiritual things are concerned.
(2) A characteristic cause of our rising and falling religious life is this, depending too much upon the efficacy of spasmodic effort.
4. The vital or radical causes, which, after all, are the real causes. They are
(1) The attempt to be religious without the religious principle; the attempt to lead a new life without a new nature, very much prevailing now, but with very fatal consequences. Lives these full of secret sin.
(2) Is the case where there has been a genuine conversion, but where the fire has burnt out, and there is nothing left but the form of godliness, and not the power.
(3) Is the case where there is a real connection with the life of God, but so feeble and fitful, that the believer is tossed about by every wind and doctrine.
III. The remedy for this inconstancy, this fluctuation.
1. Give yourself up to a very frequent and searching self-examination before God.
2. You must be more faithful in the details of your religious life. Little things grow to big things.
3. You must be more constant in your attendance upon the means of grace, more particularly the special ordinances of God’s house; but--
4. High and supreme above every other precaution and remedy, you must ever keep your heart open to the light of heaven and the grace of God; and then, whatever may be your hindrances, your drawbacks, your constitutional infirmity, or your spiritual afflictions, they shall all yield to the strength of your faith in God. (T. E. Westerdale.)
Spiritual fluctuation
There is no sadder or more depressing condition than that in which we look back regretfully to better days and happier hours. This undertone of lamenting sorrow makes the cry of Job pathetic. He had seen better days. Because he measured God’s favour by the amount of worldly prosperity given him, he concluded God, measurably at least, had forsaken him. It was a mistaken standard by which to judge God, still it was his standard. We are interested in the experience of Job so far as it is an illustration of spiritual experience. Our spiritual or religious life, like our physical, is subject to fluctuations. There are causes and remedies for such a fluctuating spiritual condition.
I. Inquire unto the causes.
1. Physical causes. It is hard to tell how many of our spiritual fluctuations are due to our bodies. The mind and the soul have controlling power over the body; but it is just as true that the body rules them. The body is the channel of our noblest emotions and our deepest sorrows. Since the body has its effect upon the spirit, it is to be religiously guarded and cared for.
2. The mind. Its varying moods affect every other portion of our lives. Its powers, distorted by sin, carry us hither and thither. It is true religion appeals to and reaches the mind as well as the heart, the reason as well as the emotions; but the wilful wanderings and ever-restless questionings of the mind too often lead it from safe moorings. The thoughts we entertain; the kind of reading we select; the habits of judgment we cultivate--all have their effect upon our hearts.
3. Providential causes. Circumstances in which we are placed, and over which we have no control, seem to change often our entire outlook. It was so with Job. It is comparatively easy to be spiritually-minded as long as all goes well, but trouble often turns the poor weak heart from its refuge, and makes the sky look dark.
4. People too often live on too low a spiritual plane. We do not live up near enough to God. There is communion and fellowship with God that is neglected and forsaken. Men live on a plane constantly growing lower, and then wonder why their faith is not as clear, their hearts are not as warm, and their spirits as glowing as in former days: why heaven seems further away the nearer they come to eternity. They imagine God has changed, while the change is all in them. Spiritual lowlands will be sure to tell on spiritual life.
II. Inferences in connection with this subject.
1. Let no Christian conclude that because he has been subject to such changes, therefore he has lost religion and lost favour with God. This was one of Job’s troubles. Religion is something deeper than our feelings, and far more comprehensive. It finds its basis not in our varying moods nor changing emotions, but in the unchanging Word and provisions of God.
2. There must be a higher standard of life than mere feeling. If emotions were the gauge of our religious life, we could never be quite sure of our spiritual standing. There were times of depression and exaltation on the human side of the life of the Saviour. All through His chequered experience the one great principle of action was that He might do the will of God. The highest standard put before us is not our fluctuating emotions, but our earnest doing God’s will.
III. Remedies for this spiritual fluctuation.
1. Frequent strict self-examination.
2. Close attention paid to the details of life.
3. Practical activity. God wants us to work and do for Him whether we feel like doing so or not.
4. Let the windows of the soul be kept constantly open toward heaven. The Saviour did that. All availing strength comes from above. (Francis F. West.)
Painful retrospects
Humanity is a brotherhood, and the language of Job finds response in many a pious heart.
I. Declension is the first thought suggested by these words. This may have been scarcely perceptible, for as spiritual life is developed not by violent moods, not by spasmodic impulses, but gradually; as its influx is like the inflowing of the tides, so spiritual declension is gradual--it does not register itself, it is comparatively unconscious. Still, there are specific causes out of which it is produced.
1. Religious speculation. It will not do to tamper with compass or chart. What shall prevent a vessel from drifting out of its course if the needle has been made to deflect from its true position? Bible truths should be held inviolable--not that there should be unreasoning and blind acceptance of religious beliefs, but there are certain truths commended to us which are beyond controversy.
2. The cares of the world. These are fruitful causes of spiritual declension. It was no wonder that Peter would fain remain on Tabor’s summit with Christ. Under a tropical sun, nursed by the balmy air, rich and luscious fruits easily ripen; so, near the Throne, in moments akin to the hour of transfiguration, Christian graces rapidly develop; but the hourly contact with the busy world, its anxieties and distractions, are apt to be prejudicial to piety and to warp the Christian character.
3. Neglect of the means of grace. These are commended, not arbitrarily. They are the laws of the spiritual life--essential conditions of growth.
II. Solicitude is a hopeful indication. It is a sign of spiritual life. The Church at Laodicea was charged with indifferentism. “I would ye were either cold or hot.”
III. The desire may be fulfilled. (John Love.)
Job’s regret and our own
I.Let us begin by saying that regrets such as those expressed in the text are and ought to be very bitter. If it be the loss of spiritual things that we regret, then may we say from the bottom of our hearts, “Oh, that I were as in months past.” It is a great thing for a man to be near to God; it is a very choice privilege to be admitted into the inner circle of communion, and to become God’s familiar friend. Great as the privilege is, so great is the loss of it. No darkness is so dark as that which falls on eyes accustomed to the light. The man who has never enjoyed communion with God knows nothing of what it must be to lose it. The mercies which Job deplored in our text are no little ones.
1. First, he complains that he had lost the consciousness of Divine preservation. He says, “Oh, that I were as in months past, as in the days when God preserved me.” There are days with Christians when they can see God’s hand all around them, checking them in the first approaches of sin, and setting a hedge about all their ways.
2. Job had also lost Divine consolation, for he looks back with lamentation to the time when God’s candle shone upon his head, when the sun of God’s love was, as it were, in the zenith, and cast no shadow; when he rejoiced without ceasing, and triumphed from morning to night in the God of his salvation. “The joy of the Lord is our strength.” Moreover, Job deplored the loss of Divine illumination. “By His light,” he says, “I walked through darkness,” that is to say, perplexity ceased to be perplexity; God shed such a light upon the mysteries of Providence, that where others missed their path, Job, made wise by heaven, could find it. There have been times when, to our patient faith, all things have been plain.
3. Moreover, Job had lost Divine communion; so it seems, for he mourned the days of his youth, when the secret of God was upon his tabernacle. Who shall tell to another what the secret of God is?
II. But, secondly, let me remind you that these regrets are not inevitable; that is to say, it is not absolutely necessary that a Christian man should ever feel them, or be compelled to express them. It has grown to be a tradition among us, that every Christian must backslide in a measure, and that growth in grace cannot be unbrokenly sustained. There is no inherent necessity in the Divine life itself compelling it to decline, for is it not written, “It shall be in him a well of water, springing up unto everlasting life”? And there is no period of our life in which it is necessary for us to go back. Assuredly, old age offers no excuse for decline: “they shall still bring forth fruit in old age; they shall be fat and flourishing; to show that the Lord is upright.”
III. But now I am compelled to say that the regrets expressed in our text are exceedingly common and it is only here and there that we meet with a believer who has not had cause to use them. It ought not to be so, but it is so. The commonness of this lamentation may be somewhat accounted for by the universal tendency to undervalue the present and exaggerate the excellence of the past. Then, again, regrets may in some cases arise from a holy jealousy. The Christian, in whatever state he is, feels his own imperfection much, and laments his conscious shortcomings. And, let me add, that very often these regrets of ours about the past are not wise. It is impossible to draw a fair comparison between the various stages of Christian experience, so as to give a judicious preference to one above another. Consider, as in a parable, the seasons of the year. There are many persons who, in the midst of the beauties of spring, say, “Ah, but how fitful is the weather! These March winds and April showers come and go by such fits and starts, that nothing is to be depended upon. Give me the safer glories of summer.” Yet, when they feel the heat of summer, and wipe the sweat from their brows, they say, “After all, with all the full-blow of beauty around us, we admire more the freshness, verdure, and vivacity of spring. The snowdrop and the crocus, coming forth as the advance guard of the army of flowers, have a superior claim about them.” Now, it is idle to compare spring with summer; they differ, and have each its beauties. Be thankful each of you for what you have, for by the grace of God you are what you are. After making all these deductions, however, I cannot conceive that they altogether account for the prevalence of these regrets; I am afraid the fact arises from the sad truth that many of us have actually deteriorated in grace, have decayed in spirit, and degenerated in heart.
IV. Since these regrets are exceedingly common, it is to be feared that in some cases they are very sadly needful. Are there not signs of declension, that some of us might, with but a very slight examination, discover in ourselves? Is not brotherly love, in many Christians, very questionable?
V. But I must pass on to observe that these regrets by themselves are useless. It is unprofitable to read these words of Job, and say, “Just so, that is how I feel,” and then continue in the same way. If a man has neglected his business, and so has lost his trade, it may mark a turn in his affairs when he says, “I wish I had been more industrious”; but if he abides in the same sloth as before, of what use is his regret? If he doth not seek to be restored, he is adding to all his former sins this of lying before God, in uttering regrets that he does not feel in his soul.
VI. These regrets, when they are necessary, are very humbling. During the time we have been going back we ought to have gone forward. What enjoyments we have lost by our wanderings! What progress we have missed. Alas, how much the Church has lost through us! for if the Christian becomes poor in grace, he lessens the Church’s wealth of grace. VII. These regrets, then, are humbling, and they may be made very profitable in many other ways. First, they show us what human nature is. Learn again to prize what spiritual blessings yet remain. This should teach us to live by faith, since our best attainments fail us.
VIII. These regrets ought not to be continual: they ought to be removed. Go back to where you started. Do not stay discussing whether you are a Christian or not. Go to Christ as a poor, guilty sinner. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Comfort for the desponding
I. First, there is a complaint. How many a Christian looks on the past with pleasure, on the future with dread, and on the present with sorrow!
1. The first is the case of a man who has lost the brightness of his evidences.
2. Another phase of this great complaint, which it also very frequently assumes, is one under which we are lamenting--not so much because our evidences are withered, as because we do not enjoy a perpetual peace of mind as to other matters. “Oh,” says one, “Oh, that I were as in months past! for then whatever troubles and trials came upon me were less than nothing.”
3. Another individual, perhaps, is speaking thus concerning his enjoyment in the house of God and the means of grace. “Oh,” says one, “in months past, when I went up to the house of God, how sweetly did I hear!”
4. There are some of us who lament extremely that our conscience is not as tender as it used to be; and therefore doth our soul cry in bitterness,” Oh, that I were as in months past!” “When first I knew the Lord,” you say, “I was almost afraid to put one foot before another, lest I should go astray.”
5. There are some of us who have not as much zeal for the glory of God and the salvation of men as we used to have.
II. But now we are about to take these different characters, and tell you the cause and cure.
1. One of the causes of this mournful state of things is defect in prayer; and of course the cure lies somewhere next door to the cause. You do not pray as you once did. Nothing brings such leanness into a man’s soul as want of prayer.
2. Perhaps, again, you are saying, “Oh, that I were as in months past!” not so much from your own fault as from the fault of your minister.
3. But there is a better reason still that will come more home to some of you. It is not so much the badness of the food, as the seldomness that you come to eat it.
4. But frequently this complaint arises from idolatry. Many have given their hearts to something else save God, and have set their affections upon the things of earth, instead of the things in heaven. We have perhaps become self-confident and self-righteous. If so, that is a reason why it is not with us as in months past. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
