Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 1693
Delivered at the Thursday Evening Lecture
“And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to which you are also called in one body; and be you thankful.” Colossians 3:15.
I do not know how it is, but during the last two or three days I have been called to sympathize with an amount of sorrow such as I have seldom met with before in so short a space of time. One messenger of misery has followed on the heels of another, each one with heavy tidings. Nor is that all, for I have also been perplexed with a large amount of sinning, quarrelling and fault-finding. People are murmuring, grumbling, fretting and fighting on all sides. This has tried me so much that I feel little fitted to act as comforter, for I need comfort, myself. I have endeavored to cheer others till I have drunk of their cup of sorrow and put my own mouth out of taste—I have tried to make peace for others till I am half afraid of losing my own—I have answered the people’s grumblings till I am tempted to have a growl or two on my own account.
Perhaps I may relieve my own mind by the sermon which I hope to deliver. I said to one whom I greatly esteem, “I do not know how it is, but everybody seems out of sorts with everybody else just now.” His wise answer was, “THE WIND IS IN THE EAST.” This fact accounts for a great deal, for—
“When the wind is in the east, ‘Tis neither good for man nor beast.” This is that ill wind which seems to blow no man any good. Some humanities feel the east wind terribly—it sets their teeth on edge and they feel that they must bite the first person they meet. I am glad to find some sort of excuse for my fellow Christians and, if I can find it nowhere but in the east wind, I will make the best I can of it. But I earnestly hope that the wind may soon blow from another quarter and not come from the east, again, till we have had a little respite and laid in a new stock of patience. If a cutting wind causes despondency, vexation, discontent and bad temper—may soft gales visit us frequently and bring us healing in their wings!
As fair weather will not last forever, it will be well to prepare ourselves to breast the blast. It will never do for us to have a religion which can be killed by the wind—we must be made of better stuff than that! Yet this wind is blamed and I wish, therefore, that it would take itself off. If I could find a snug corner where the cruel east wind was never felt, I would feel inclined to promote an emigration movement for certain persons whom I will not mention! As for myself, I am afraid that it would not suit me to be altogether screened from the wind, for trials are necessary to one who is called to this ministry. Troubles and east winds will come to the servants of God and they are sent to do us good, for perhaps, if we could get our backs against a protecting wall and sit forever in the sunshine, with no east wind to interfere with us, we would go to sleep, or waking, we might come to love this world so well as to be loath to leave it!
It would be a horrible thing for any one of us if the south wind should softly breathe upon our cheeks and whisper gently in our ears of long-continued joy to be found on earth—for then we would be tempted to sit down and say, “Soul, take your ease. You have, at last, found a place free from the trials of time. Therefore eat, drink and be merry, and let the future world care for itself.” When I turn over in my mind the events of the last few days I do not suppose that there is more discord or discontent in the world just now than at any other time, but it happens that a number of black lines have all found their center in me and my thoughts have had to travel out in all those directions—all which is trying enough, but all the more so when the wind is in the east.
It is a coincidence, but the same has happened before. I have had to unravel many tangled skeins in my time out of love to others. I did not get the threads into a ravel, but people are very fond of bringing me their snarls to disentangle and, when I have a hope of succeeding, I try my best. Gladly would I be a peacemaker, but it is much easier to make a
snarl than to put it straight, again—especially in the east wind. I have tried to set things right and, meanwhile, I have asked myself, “Is there not a remedy for these mischiefs?” I feel assured there is such a remedy. Family discomfort, husbands and wives that cannot agree, domestic difficulties, brothers and sisters that fall out, Church troubles, members that are not treated kindly by others, (not generally the kindest sort of people, themselves, I notice), difficulties in business, difficulties in preaching—the world teems with these things!
When the wind is in the east, we meet with many people who cannot earn enough wages, others who do not believe they were ever treated well since they were born. There are others, again, who are highly deserving people, but have never yet been appreciated as they should be. And these all come out in crowds when the wind is in the east. Good men become rabid for something new, find fault with old friends, invite debate and quarrel about nothing—and this happens most often when the wind is in the east. When this kind of spirit gets among Christian people, it is very sad. But surely there must be a remedy for it! Many nostrums are proposed, many quacks are ready to prescribe this and that form of remedy for troubles and discords, but the results of the east wind are not to be removed in that way—a higher power is needed.