There have been many attempts to explain the trials and sufferings of life, and many philosophical debates around the issue of why God allows suffering at all. Horatio Spafford’s response to the loss of his family may seem an incredible form of escapism to some, but to others it expresses the deepest assurances of faith

I first heard about Horatio Spafford while listening to a recorded sermon of Martyn Lloyd-Jones. As I recall, the sermon was entitled ‘The acid test of Christian profession’, and was based on Paul’s words to the Corinthians: ‘Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, works for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory’.

In his customary, incisive manner, Lloyd-Jones demonstrated that true Christianity was not to be found in the confession of certain doctrines, or the possession of certain experiences. One could, he argued, have all these and not be genuinely born again; one could have orthodox beliefs and remarkable experiences without knowing the power of the gospel.

With irrefutable logic and remarkable power, the Doctor homed in on Paul’s words to demonstrate that the acid test of Christian profession is that we are able to say, in our worst moments of trial and of testing, that in comparison with the weight of glory that Christ has reserved for his people, our afflictions are ‘light’. Whatever we think of the Doctor’s view, it is certainly true that the genuineness of Christian faith is revealed not when we find ourselves in a pleasant place, but in a dark one.

The point was well illustrated in the sermon by reference to Horatio Spafford, a wealthy Chicago lawyer who, along with his family, had been a loyal supporter of the evangelistic campaigns of D.L. Moody. In the early 1870s, their four year old son was killed by scarlet fever, following which the great Chicago fire wiped out much of their estate.

Both in order to get a break from these trials, as well as to support the Moody campaign in England, Spafford planned to take his family to Europe on holiday. A last minute business meeting forced him to delay and to send his wife and daughters on ahead.

On November 2nd 1873, the ship on which his family was sailing collided with an English boat. It sank in 12 minutes, claiming the lives of over two hundred people, among whom were Spafford’s four daughters. The youngest, a baby, was torn from her mother’s arms by the force of the waves.

Miraculously, the mother’s life was spared; immediately she sent a telegram to her husband saying that she alone had survived. It was as a consequence of this disaster that Horatio Spafford took a journey to the place where his daughters had been lost at sea and penned his famous hymn, ‘It is well with my soul’. The opening stanza is a remarkable affirmation of faith:

When peace like a river attendeth my way;
when sorrows like sea-billows roll;
whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul.

There have been many attempts to explain the trials and sufferings of life, and many philosophical debates around the issue of why God allows suffering at all. Horatio Spafford’s response to the loss of his family may seem an incredible form of escapism to some, but to others it expresses the deepest assurances of faith.

And it resonates with the teaching of the New Testament. Peter, for example, in his epistle, urges us to remember that the testings and sufferings of life are a trial of faith, applied so that we will appreciate the nature and the quality of a God-given trust in the promises of the gospel. Just as gold is tested, faith is tested. And the believer knows that no matter what may be lost in the testing, the faith itself will endure it.

The apostle James says much the same thing when he writes to believers that they ought to count it a matter of joy to meet various kinds of trials, because the testing of faith produces steadfastness and patience. And although such testings, trials and tribulations may be hard to bear and difficult to endure, the child of God knows that there is a purpose in the dark threads as well as in the threads of gold.

The ‘health and prosperity’ gospel that teaches that neither poverty nor suffering are ever God’s will for his people will not produce men and women of faith. Quite the opposite: it will produce men and women of presumption and of weakness. The God of the Bible is intimately involved in the experiences of men and women; and in their experiences of suffering, loss and pain, the men and women of the Bible are deeply concerned to walk close with God notwithstanding the hardships and sufferings of life.

So for Spafford to write ‘It is well with my soul’ is not a form of fantasy, a prop to hold him up in the midst of life’s trials. It is no less than that; but it is at last the satisfaction of faith, the ultimate hope that suffering is not in vain, and that all things do indeed work together for the good of God’s people.

And I think Lloyd-Jones was right; it is not what we are like when everything is going our way that demonstrates that we are truly Christians. What we are like when everything is against us is a far greater demonstration of Christian character than fairweather faith can ever be.

Iain Campbell is a native of the Isle of Lewis in northwest Scotland where he serves as pastor of the Free Church of Scotland congregation in Point. He also serves as Adjunct Professor of Church History at Westminster Theological Seminary. This article first appeared on his blog, Creideamh ((pronounced ‘kray-jif’), Gaelic for ‘Faith’, and is used with his permission.

http://creideamh.blogspot.com/