Discouragement

"The soul of the people was much discouraged because of the way" (Numbers 21:4).

The Church of Christ abounds in people who are "discouraged because of the way." Whether inwardly or outwardly—and often both—things look wrong, there seems to be no hope of escape, and their religious lives are full of discomfort. There is nothing that paralyses effort like discouragement, and nothing that more successfully invites defeat. The secret of failure or success lies far more in the soul's interior attitude than in any other cause. It is a law of our being that the "inward man" counts for far more in every conflict than anything the outward man may do or possess.

Nowhere is this truer than in the spiritual life. The Bible declares from beginning to end that faith is the law of the spiritual life, and "according to your faith be it done to you" (Matthew 9:29).

Since faith and discouragement cannot exist together, discouragement is an absolute barrier to faith. Where discouragement rules, it shall be to us not according to our faith, but according to our discouragement.

In fact, just as courage is a faith in good, discouragement is a faith in evil. While courage opens the door to good, discouragement opens it to evil. An allegory I heard early in my Christian life has always remained in my memory as a warning, like those signs for cyclists at the top of a hill: "This hill is dangerous."

The allegory tells of a council Satan called to decide how to entrap a devoted Christian worker.

One imp offered to paint the pleasures of sin in glowing colours. Satan shook his head: "The man has tried sin and knows it leads to ruin." Another offered to picture the trials and self-denials of a righteous life to make him eager to escape them. "No," said Satan, "he knows that the paths of righteousness are paths of peace." Then a third imp started up: "I will discourage his soul." "That will do!" exclaimed Satan. "You will be successful."

An old Quaker once said, "All discouragement is from the devil." I believe this is a deep truth.

Discouragement cannot have its source in God. The religion of Jesus is one of faith, good cheer, and hope. "Be discouraged," says our lower nature, "for the world is a place of temptation." "In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world" (John 16:33).

There is no room for discouragement in a world Christ has overcome.

We must settle it, then: discouragement always comes from an evil source. We often persuade ourselves that being discouraged is a "pious" state of mind or evidence of humility, but the causes we think are legitimate are often just short-sightedness.

The most common cause is our own incapacity. We think it is right to be cast down because we are "good-for-nothing" creatures. Moses is a perfect illustration of this. When God called him to lead Israel out of Egypt, Moses looked at his own infirmities: "Oh, my Lord, I am not eloquent...

but I am slow of speech and of tongue" (Exodus 4:10). Naturally, we think Moses had cause for discouragement. But notice God's answer. He did not try to convince Moses that he was actually eloquent. He simply said: "Who has made man's mouth? Who makes him mute, or deaf, or seeing, or blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now therefore go, and I will be with your mouth and teach you what you shall speak" (Exodus 4:11-12).

When the word of the Lord came to Jeremiah, he felt unequal to the work: "Ah, Lord God!

Behold, I do not know how to speak, for I am only a youth" (Jeremiah 1:6). But the Lord answered: "Do not say, 'I am only a youth'; for to all to whom I send you, you shall go... Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you" (Jeremiah 1:7-8).

Gideon is another example. Called to deliver Israel from the Midianites, the Lord told him: "Go in this might of yours and save Israel... Do not I send you?" (Judges 6:14). Gideon looked at his lack of status: "Please, Lord, how can I save Israel? Behold, my clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my father's house" (Judges 6:15). How familiar this sounds to victims of discouragement! But the Lord simply said: "But I will be with you, and you shall strike the Midianites as one man" (Judges 6:16).

God never gives us "encouragement" regarding our own capacities. He gives us the bare statement: "I will be with you." This answer precludes all argument. I, your Creator, your strength, and your wisdom, will be with you.

Even so, discouragement is subtle. We think our "temperament" makes it right for us to be discouraged. We think we are too weak to grapple with enemies. And we would be right—if we were fighting the battles ourselves. But if the Lord is to fight them for us, our lack of ability becomes an advantage. "For when I am weak, then I am strong" (2 Corinthians 12:10).

The children of Israel provide a warning here. At the borders of the promised land, Moses urged them: "Do not fear or be dismayed" (Deuteronomy 1:21). But they felt helpless and murmured that God must hate them. They said: "Where are we going up? Our brothers have made our hearts melt, saying, 'The people are greater and taller than we. The cities are great and fortified up to heaven'" (Deuteronomy 1:28). This is the voice of discouragement—looking at the "giants" instead of the God who is with us. When we read the report of the spies, we cannot be surprised at their discouragement. In fact, we might even feel that courage under such circumstances would have been foolhardiness. "The land, through which we have gone to spy it out, is a land that devours its inhabitants," the spies declared, "and all the people that we saw in it are of great height. And there we saw the Nephilim... and we seemed to ourselves like grasshoppers, and so we seemed to them" (Numbers 13:32-33).

Nothing could have seemed more humble than for them to look upon themselves as poor, good- for-nothing grasshoppers; true humility would have seemed to teach that it would be the height of presumption for grasshoppers to try to conquer giants. We also often feel ourselves to be but grasshoppers in the face of the giants of temptation and trouble that assail us, and we think ourselves justified in being discouraged. But the question is not whether we are grasshoppers, but whether God is; for it is not we who have to fight these giants, but God.

In vain Moses reminded the Israelites of this. In vain he assured them that they had no need to be afraid of even the sons of the Anakim, for "The Lord your God who goes before you will himself fight for you" (Deuteronomy 1:30). He even reminded them of past deliverances, asking if they did not remember how "in the wilderness... the Lord your God carried you, as a man carries his son, all the way that you went" (Deuteronomy 1:31). But they were still too discouraged to believe. The result was that not one of that "evil generation" was allowed to see the promised land, except for Caleb and Joshua, who had steadfastly believed that God could and would lead them in.

Such are the fruits of giving way to discouragement, and such is the reward of a steadfast faith.

The Apostle, in commenting on this story, asks: "And to whom did he swear that they would not enter his rest, but to those who were disobedient? So we see that they were unable to enter because of unbelief" (Hebrews 3:18-19).

Is there no parallel here to our own case? Do we not look at our weakness instead of looking at the Lord's strength? Have we not sometimes become so discouraged as to sink into such "anguish of spirit" (Exodus 6:9) that we cannot even hearken to the Lord's own declarations that he will fight for us and give us the victory? Our souls long to enter into the rest the Lord has promised, but giants and cities "fortified up to heaven" seem to stand in our pathway, and we are afraid to believe. So we too, like the Israelites, cannot enter in because of unbelief.

How different it would be if we only had faith enough to say with the Psalmist: "Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war arise against me, yet I will be confident...

For he will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his tent; he will lift me high upon a rock" (Psalm 27:3, 5). How joyfully and triumphantly would we be able to enter into rest if this were our language.

Another very subtle cause for discouragement is found in the "fear of man." There seems to exist in this world a company of beings called "they" who lord it over life with an iron hand of control.

What will "they" say? What will "they" think? These are among the most frequent questions that assail the timid soul. At every turn, this ubiquitous "they" stands in our way to discourage us.

This form of discouragement often wears the disguise of "due consideration for others," but it is especially dangerous because it exalts "they" into the place of God. The only remedy is the constant reminder that God is with us. "Be not afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you, declares the Lord" (Jeremiah 1:8). "The Lord is my helper; I will not fear; what can man do to me?" (Hebrews 13:6).

There is, however, one sort of discouragement that is very common and seems as if it must be right: the discouragement arising from our own failures. This is what the children of Israel suffered after their defeat at Ai. They had "broken the covenant" and "therefore the people of Israel cannot stand before their enemies" (Joshua 7:11-12). Their discouragement was so great that "the hearts of the people melted and became as water," and Joshua "fell on his face to the earth before the ark of the Lord until the evening" (Joshua 7:5-6).

When God's people "turn their backs before their enemies," one might think they ought to lie on their faces in despair. But the Lord thought otherwise, for he said to Joshua, "Get up! Why have you fallen on your face?" (Joshua 7:10). The proper thing to do after a failure is not to abandon ourselves to discouragement, humble as that may appear, but to face the evil, get rid of it, and immediately reconsecrate ourselves to the Lord. "Up, consecrate the people" (Joshua 7:13) is always God's command. "Lie down and be discouraged" is always our temptation.

You may ask whether a sense of sin produced by the Holy Spirit ought not to cause discouragement. If I see myself as a sinner, how can I help it? To this I answer that the Holy Spirit does not convict us of sin to discourage us, but to encourage us. He shows us our sin not so we may lie down in despair, but so we may get rid of it. A good mother points out her children's faults to help them correct them. Conviction is a privilege; it means deliverance is coming.

A good housewife discovers stains on her linen not to throw it away, but to have it cleansed. If she has a good laundress, she won't be discouraged by the worst of stains. Surely then, when God says, "though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow" (Isaiah 1:18), it is pure unbelief to be discouraged by our failures. God's "washing of regeneration" is more effective than any human effort.

Fénelon says: "It is of great importance to guard against discouragement on account of our faults.

Discouragement is not a fruit of humility, but of pride... It springs from a secret love of our own excellence. We are hurt at feeling what we are... Poor nature longs from self-love to behold itself perfect; it is vexed that it is not so; it is impatient, haughty, and out of temper with itself and everybody else."

Discouragement leads people to "murmur" and "speak against God." When the Israelites were "discouraged because of the way," they "spoke against God" (Numbers 21:4-5). Discouragement is, in its essence, a claim that God has failed to keep his promises. The Psalmist says: "They spoke against God, saying, 'Can God spread a table in the wilderness?'" (Psalm 78:19). Even our "reasonable" questions about God's willingness to help are a "speaking against God" because they reveal that we "did not believe in God and did not trust his saving power" (Psalm 78:22).

Another grievous quality of discouragement is its contagiousness. Nothing is more catching.

When the spies sent out by Moses brought back an "evil report" of the promised land and spoke of the giants there, they so "made the heart of the people melt" (Joshua 14:8) that the people "lifted up their voices and cried" (Numbers 14:1) and utterly refused to enter the land the Lord had given them. The "evil report" that so many Christians bring of their failures and disappointments is one of the most discouraging things in our fellowship. The hearts of young Christians are far too often discouraged by older believers who have little idea of the harm they do with their doleful accounts of the trials of the way.

I can never look back without shame to a time when I "discouraged the heart" of a young friend by the "evil report" I gave of the "giants" of doubt I had met. Later, when a stronger faith delivered me from those fears, I found my former report had so effectively discouraged her that it took a long time before she would listen to the good report I then had to bring.

So important did the Lord feel it to be that no one should discourage another, that he gave this law for warfare: "What man is there who is fearful and fainthearted? Let him go back to his house, lest he make the heart of his fellows melt like his own" (Deuteronomy 20:8). Discouraged people, if they must be discouraged, should at least keep it to themselves, hidden in the privacy of their own bosoms.

We know that courage is contagious; one brave soul can save a crowd from panic. But we forget that one fainthearted person can infect a crowd with fear. We even, strange to say, sing our discouragements in our hymns: "Where is the blessedness I knew When first I saw the Lord?

...But now I find an aching void, The world can never fill."

Or this: "And shall we then for ever live At this poor dying rate...

Hosannas languish on our tongues, And our devotion dies."

To sing such hymns seems a travesty of worship. If there are "aching voids" in our experience, let us keep it to ourselves. Surely it cannot please God to hear complainings exalted into the place of hosannas. What would we think of wives who met together to sing such things about their husbands? They would not be tolerated for a single day.

If the Church would expurgate all hymns of discouragement and allow only songs of courage and good cheer, the faith of Christians would go up with a mighty bound. "Take heart," is the Lord's command, founded on the fact that "I have overcome the world" (John 16:33).

Which would you rather have been? The spies who brought an evil report, or Caleb and Joshua, who "stilled the people before Moses and said, 'Let us go up at once and occupy it, for we are well able to overcome it'" (Numbers 13:30)? Moses spoke of Caleb as one who "wholly followed the Lord" (Deuteronomy 1:36). This "wholly following" consisted simply in the fact that Caleb gave a good report.

How different it would be if discouragement were seen in its true light—as a "speaking against God." In Isaiah’s prophecy, he describes God’s people: "Everyone helps his neighbor and says to his brother, 'Be strong!' The craftsman strengthens the goldsmith, and he who smooths with the hammer him who strikes the anvil" (Isaiah 41:6-7). Shall we follow their example?

If asked how to get rid of discouragement, I can only say: give it up. It is never worth while to argue with it. When David found his city burned and his men spoke of stoning him, "David strengthened himself in the Lord his God" (1 Samuel 30:6). The result was a magnificent victory.

The Psalmist asked himself: "Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?" (Psalm 42:11). He answered with the argument of God: "Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God." He did not analyse his disquietude; he turned to the Lord and began to praise. Faith flies when discouragement appears, and discouragement flies where faith appears. You must choose between them.