Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 2945
“And it was now dark, and Jesus had not come to them.” John 6:17.
CHRIST’S disciples, when they joined Him, had some very happy times with Him—and they had just had a very grand day in feeding the multitude. I wish I had been there to help in the feeding of 5,000 men. Everyone who had a share in that service was highly honored and those who were not there might well regret their absence on such an eventful day! But notice fair days have foul eventides and the Christ manifested during the day may become a Christ hidden during the night. Close on the heels of the intense excitement of great success comes the relapse into darkness of spirit and absence of joy. The very same men who had been rejoicing with unspeakable joy in the Divine power of their Master, are now left to endure that which is a very sad experience for anyone to have—everything dark—and Jesus not there!
I am going to talk about the condition of the men described in our text. “It was now dark, and Jesus had not come to them.” And, first, I shall speak about the affliction of His absence. Secondly, about some considerations which may cheer us under it And then, thirdly, I shall take a very different and far more terrible view of this condition and apply it to quite another class ofpersons.
I. First, then, “It was now dark, and Jesus had not come to them. “This suggests to us THE AFFLICTION OF HIS ABSENCE.
It was a great affliction for these disciples to have Christ away from them at all. Whenever He was away, they were as sheep without a shepherd and as soldiers without a leader, but for Him to be away when they were at sea—when they were at sea in the dark—when they were at sea in a storm—all this made it much worse for them, for, although we always need Jesus, yet we more peculiarly recognize the value of His Presence when we can derive no comfort from anything else.
Christ’s absence was, in itself, an affliction to His disciples and, in proportion as we love Him, we shall acknowledge it to be an affliction to have Him absent from us. Those who never knew the sweetness of the society of Christ do not feel any sorrow that He is absent from them. A person who had never tasted pure water, but has always had to drink some foul draught, would not sigh for the cooling spring because he had never known its sweetness. There is no poverty in the world so dire as the poverty of those who have been rich—and there are none who can know the value of the Savior, in His absence, but those who have enjoyed His preciousness by dwelling in His Presence! If your love to Jesus Christ is chilled, you will not miss Him much. Prince Emmanuel went away from Mansoul and when He was gone, the townspeople did not miss Him. But had they been enjoying continual fellowship with Him and He had departed from them only for a little while, they would have begun to sigh and cry in the bitterness of their souls—and would not have been content till they had Him back again—and would have been ready to die if He did not come back to them at once! To those who intensely love Him, it is, in itself, an affliction to be without the Savior! And it is an affliction in proportion as they love Him.
These men wereput to many inconveniences by Christ’s absence. To be without the Savior made the darkness seem all the darker. Had He been there, they might have sung—if the lines had then been written—
“Mid darkest shades, if He appears, My dawning is begun!”
If Christ is in the boat with us, I do not know that it matters much whether the sun is shining or not, for, if the sun shall shine, we shall see HIM, and delight to see Him by the light of the sun. But if it is dark, we will see Christ by His own light and rejoice to see, in that brighter light, what we might not have recognized had the sunlight still shone upon us! You all know what it is to be in the dark and you know that material darkness is not comfortable. I remember being in a third-class railway carriage with a large number of other people travelling a long journey at night. Somebody struck a match and lit a candle. That became the most cheerful part of the carriage and our eyes could not help turning in that direction, for we did not like the darkness. Nobody does. There is also a kind of mental darkness in which you are disturbed, perplexed, worried troubled—not, perhaps, about anything tangible—you could not write down your troubles. It may even be that you really don’t have any, but you feel troubled and dismayed. Other people say that you are nervous and they blame you and say, “You ought not to give way in this manner.” That is what they think. But when a person gets into your present condition, that is the unkindest thing that anyone can possibly say—and the least likely to do any good to the poor troubled soul! I do not mind a trouble which I can see and understand. Manfully would I shoulder it in my Master’s strength. But when the spirit, itself, is in the dark, one imagines a thousand evil things! Even good things, themselves, seem to be evil and what should be to your encouragement becomes often a source of discouragement! Have any of you ever been in that condition? If you have, and if Jesus has not come to you, then, I am sure that you have felt it very difficult and you have greatly needed His Presence.