John Alexander Dowie
By John Alexander Dowie (1847 â 1907)
I sat in my study in the parsonage of the Congregational Church at Newtown, a suburb of the beautiful city of Sydney, Australia. My heart was very heavy, for I had visited the sick and dying beds of more than thirty of my flock, and I had cast the dust to its kindred dust into more than forty graves within a few weeks. Where, oh where, was He Who used to heal His suffering children? No prayer for healing seemed to reach His ear, and yet I knew His hand had not been shortened. Still it did not save from death even those for whom there was so much in life to live for God and others. Strong men, fathers, good citizens, and more than all, true Christians sickened with a putrid fever, suffered nameless agonies, passed into delirium, sometimes with convulsions, and then died.
Oh, what aching voids were left in many a widowed or orphaned heart. There were many homes where, one by one, the little children, the youths and the maidens lay stricken, and after a hard struggle with the foul disease, they too, lay cold and dead. It seemed sometimes as if I could almost hear the triumphant mockery of evil ringing in my ear whilst I spoke to the bereaved ones the words of Christian hope and consolation. Disease, the foul offspring of its father, Satan, and its mother Sin, was defiling and destroying the earthly temples of Godâs children and there was no deliverance.
There I sat with sorrow-bowed head for my afflicted people, until the bitter tears came to relieve my burning heart. Then I prayed for some message, and oh, how I longed to hear some words from Him Who wept and sorrowed for the suffering long ago, a Man of Sorrows and Sympathies. The words of the Holy Ghost inspired In Acts 10:38, stood before me all radiant with light, revealing Satan as the Defiler, and Christ as the Healer. My tears were wiped away, my heart strong, I saw the way of healing, and the door thereto was opened wide, so I said, âGod help me now to preach the Word to all the dying around, and tell them how Satan still defiles, and Jesus still delivers, for He is just the same today.â
A loud ring and several raps at the outer door, a rush of feet, and there at my door stood two panting messengers who said, âOh, come at once, Mary is dying; come and pray. âWith just a feeling as a shepherd has who hears that his sheep are being torn from the fold by a cruel wolf, I rushed from my house, ran without my hat down the street, and entered the room of the dying maiden. There she lay groaning and grinding her clenched teeth in the agony of the conflict with the destroyer. The white froth, mingled with her blood, oozing from her pale and distorted mouth. I looked at her and then my anger burned. âOh,â I thought, âfor some sharp sword of heavenly temper keen to slay this cruel foe who is strangling that lovely maiden like an invisible serpent, tightening his deadly coils for a final victory.â
In a strange way, It came to pass; I found the sword I needed was in my hands, and in my hand I hold it still and never will I lay It down. The doctor, a good Christian man, was quietly walking up and down the room, sharing the motherâs pain and grief. Presently he stood at my side and said, âSir, are not Godâs ways mysterious?â Instantly the sword was flashed in my hand, the Spiritâs sword, the Word of God. âGodâs way?!â I said, pointing to the scene of conflict, âHow dare you call that Godâs way of bringing His children home from earth to Heaven? No sir, that is the devilâs work and it is time we called on Him Who came to destroy the work of the devil, to slay that deadly foul destroyer, and to save this child. Can you pray, Doctor, can you pray the prayer of faith that saves the sick?â At once, offended at my words, my friend was changed, and saying,â You are too much excited, sir, it is best to say âGodâs will be done,ââ and he left the room.
Excited?! The word was quite inadequate for I was almost frenzied with divinely imparted anger and hatred of that foul destroyer, disease, which was doing Satanâs will. âIt is not so,â I exclaimed, âno will of God sends such cruelty, and I shall never say âGodâs will be doneâ to Satanâs works, which Godâs own Son came to destroy, and this is one of them.â Oh, how the Word of God was burning in my heart: âJesus of Nazareth went about doing good, and healing all that were oppressed of the devil; for God was with Him.â And was not God with me? And was not Jesus there and all His promises true? I felt that it was even so, and turning to the mother I inquired,â Why did you send for me?â To which she answered, âDo pray, oh pray for her that God may raise her up.â So we prayed.
What did I say? It may be that I cannot recall the words without mistake, but words are in themselves of small importance. The prayer of faith may be a voiceless prayer, a simple heartfelt look of confidence into the face of Christ. At such moment, words are few, but they mean much, for God is looking at the heart. Still, I can remember much of that prayer unto this day, and asking God to aid, I will attempt to recall it. I cried, âOur Father, help! and Holy Spirit, teach me how to pray. Plead Thou for us, oh, Jesus, Savior, Healer, Friend, our Advocate with God the Father. Hear and heal, Eternal One! From all disease and death, deliver this sweet child of yours. I rest upon the Word. We claim the promise now. The Word is true, âI am the Lord that heals thee.â Then heal her now. The Word is true, âI am the Lord, I change not.â Unchanging God, then prove Yourself the healer now. The Word is true. âThese signs shall follow them that believe in My Name, they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover.â And I believe and I lay hands in Jesusâ Name on her and claim this promise now. Your Word is true. âThe prayer of faith shall save the sick. Trusting in You alone. I cry. Oh, save her now, for Jesusâ sake. Amen!â
Then, the maid lay in sleep so deep and sweet that the mother asked in a low whisper, âIs she dead?â âNo,â I answered, in a whisper lower still. âMary will live; the fever is gone. She is perfectly well and sleeping as an infant sleeps.â I was smoothing the long dark hair from her now peaceful brow, and feeling the steady pulsation of her heart and cool moist hands. I saw that Christ had heard, and that once more, as long ago in Peterâs house, âHe touched her and the fever left her.â Turning to the nurse, I said, âGet me at once, please, a cup of cocoa and several slices of bread and butter.â Beside the sleeping maid we sat quietly and almost silently until the nurse returned, and then I bent over her and snapping my fingers called, âMary!â
Instantly she woke, smiled and said, âOh, sir, when did you come? I have slept so long;â then stretching her arms out to meet her motherâs embrace, she said, âMother, I feel so well.â âAnd hungry, too?â I asked, pouring some of the cocoa in a saucer and offering it to her when cooled by my breath. âYes, hungry too,â she answered with a little laugh, and drank and ate again, and yet again until all was gone. In a few minutes, she fell asleep, breathing easily and softly. Quietly thanking God. We left her bed and went to the next room where her brother and sister also lay sick of the same fever. With these two, we prayed and they were healed too. The following day all three were well and in a week or so they brought me a little letter and a gift of gold, two sleeve links with my monogram, which I wore for many years. As I went away from the home where Christ as the Healer had been victorious, I could not but have somewhat in my heart of the triumphant song that rang through Heaven, and yet I was not a little amazed at my own strange doings, and still more at my discovery that He is just the same today.
Excerpt from the Sermons of John Alexander Dowie Champions of Faith by Gordon Lindsay
A Strange and Holy Calm
My wife and I are investing in calmness therapy for our twin 11-year-old boys. Itâs called youth baseball. The financial expenses pale in comparison to the deposits of time. Baseball not only facilitates brain and body development, and teaches teamwork, but also produces contexts for learning to handle pressure and deal with failure. In other words, it provides avenues to cultivate self-control  â the one virtue the apostle Paul saw fit to set before young men in Titus 2. After multiple charges each for older men, older women, and younger women (Titus 2:2â5), he gives a single focus for the young men: âurge the younger men to be self-controlledâ (Titus 2:6). Do not misunderstand. We do not  want our boys to be unemotional; and they are not. Theyâre competitive, and theyâre kids, prone to react without proper emotional restraint. Which is why youth baseball can be one valuable tool, among others, in seeking to build men. We want them to learn how to be composed under pressure, when the moment requires it, and give release to their emotions in the proper time and place. We want them to learn to keep their head when others are losing theirs, to not lose control in outrage or self-pity but keep a sober mind, aware that how they carry themselves and treat teammates, umpires, and the opposing team is far more important than winning a game. At times, we cheer, and celebrate a win after the final out has been made. At other moments, we process the disappointment of errors, strikeouts, and losses. But in the ups and downs of the game â and in life off the field â our passions can push us to celebrate prematurely, or wallow extensively. We want our boys to learn how to stay calm in the storm, not by repressing emotions but learning to master them. In the heat of the moment, we want them to keep their wits, tell themselves truth, and stay calm enough to faithfully take the next step for their own good, and the good of others. More than baseball players, we want our boys to become Christian men. He held his peace In a day when outbursts of emotion are not only accepted, but respected, and encouraged, it can be more difficult to raise men who learn to righteously âhold their peace.â Itâs a curious phrase at key junctures in the history of Godâs people. Some outburst of rage, or rash expression of anger or retaliation, is expected, yet a man of God, weâre told, âheld his peace.â First, we see it in the patriarch Jacob, when he hears that Shechem, prince of the land, âhad defiled his daughter Dinah.â We expect an explosion. But âJacob held his peaceâ until his sons could come in from the field (Genesis 34:5). Itâs not that Jacob ignores or minimizes this outrageous act against his daughter, and family, but he maintains self-control until his counselors can gather and decide how to respond. Two of his sons, Simeon and Levi, do not exercise the same restraint and become Jacobâs foil. They come against Shechem with swords, and in doing so, bring âtrouble on [Jacob] by making [him] stink to the inhabitants of the landâ (Genesis 34:30). So also Aaron, Mosesâs brother and the first high priest. When his sons âoffered unauthorized fireâ before God and were consumed (Leviticus 10:1â2), we might expect Aaron to erupt with rage against heaven at the loss of his sons. Instead, Moses reports, âAaron held his peaceâ (Leviticus 10:3) â not because he didnât care, or wasnât severely grieved, but because he revered God with a righteous fear and trusted Godâs goodness, that he had done no wrong, painful as Aaronâs loss was. King Saul, at the outset of his reign, before his falls from grace, demonstrated admirable restraint when dishonored. As the rest of the nation acknowledges and embraces him as its first king, the critics emerge, âsome worthless fellows,â with their cynicism: âHow can this man save us?â As king, Saul now has the power to dispose of such men, quickly and quietly. âBut he held his peace,â reports Samuel, in an admirable demonstration of his early magnanimity (1 Samuel 10:27). Slow to Anger Most noteworthy, though, is God himself. He says, through Isaiah, to his rebellious people, âFor a long time I have held my peace; I have kept still and restrained myselfâ (Isaiah 42:14). God has not ignored or discounted their sin; nor has he raged in an outburst of unrestrained fury against them. Later he pleads, âHave I not held my peace, even for a long time, and you do not fear me?â (Isaiah 57:11). Now he will act in justice, giving vent to his righteous anger, but none may reasonably charge him with rushing to judgment or the slightest impatience. âIn times that socialize us for outrage and outbursts, we need men who know how to hold their peace.â In times that socialize us for outrage and outbursts, we need men not just like Jacob, Aaron, and a young Saul â who know how to hold their peace when the moment requires it â but also like God himself, who the Scriptures describe repeatedly as âslow to anger.â Significantly, when God reveals himself to Moses in response to the request âShow me your glory,â the first words the prophet hears are âa God merciful and gracious, slow to angerâ (Exodus 34:6). Such divine composure , as we might call it, would become a legacy for the Israelites, that their God was slow to anger.  Not without anger . He clearly stood ready to punish the guilty in time. And never before it was time, and never with an intensity that was unjust or in any way that wronged those he punished or disciplined. Yet, given the rebellion of his people, often outrageous, he was enduringly patient and markedly âslow to anger,â as prophets and psalmists alike would cherish (Nehemiah 9:17; Joel 2:13; Psalms 86:15; 103:8; 145:8). So Too His People The collected Proverbs of the nation made this striking application: As your God, so too his people . If God himself, by all accounts and remembrances, is indeed slow to anger, how can his people not seek to be like him? Whoever is slow to anger has great understanding, but he who has a hasty temper exalts folly. (Proverbs 14:29) A hot-tempered man stirs up strife, but he who is slow to anger quiets contention. (Proverbs 15:18) Whoever is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he who rules his spirit than he who takes a city. (Proverbs 16:32) Good sense makes one slow to anger, and it is his glory to overlook an offense. (Proverbs 19:11) Here we see how God is forming and shaping his people: to have âgreat understandingâ; to âquiet contentionâ; to be âbetter than the mightyâ; to manifest âgood senseâ and the rare glory, in a world like ours, to overlook an offense. This God would save his people from hasty tempers, from exalting folly, from stirring up strife. So too in the New Testament, James extends this legacy to his Christian readers: âLet every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to angerâ (James 1:19). Jesus whipped and wept But what of Christ himself, God incarnate? In Jesus, we find full and holy humanity, along with expressions we might not label âcalm,â yet are manifestly righteous. We do not picture Christ as calm when he made a whip of cords, cleared the temple, and overturned tables (John 2:15) â actions that prompted his disciples to remember Psalm 69:9: âZeal for your house will consume me.â Nor would we call him âcalmâ when he came to Bethany in the wake of Lazarusâs death. âDeeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubledâ (John 11:33), Jesus wept  â visibly enough that onlookers said, âSee how he loved him!â (John 11:35â36). Then he came to the tomb and was âdeeply moved againâ (John 11:38). Nor would we think of his anguish in the garden as serenity. âBeing in agony he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the groundâ (Luke 22:44). We donât typically think of calmness as accompanied by âloud cries and tearsâ â but even here in Gethsemane, in his distress, he did not abandon reverence but was heard because of it (Hebrews 5:7). We would go too far to pretend that Christ was always calm. There were moments he was righteously and manifestly moved by holy emotions. Though neither in the temple, nor in Bethany, nor in the garden, did he lose control. Apart from a few exceptions, the Christ we encounter in the Gospels is stunningly calm. What composure, what self-control, what holy calmness he shows again and again when failed by his disciples, interrupted by the sick, imposed upon by the well-meaning, challenged by the sophisticated, and disrespected by the authorities. The one to whom our Christian growth conforms is one who was decidedly, manifestly calm, with only the rarest of, and most fitting, exceptions. Not stressed to rule the stars But just as helpful today, as we seek to live with the pattern of holy calm that echoes our Lordâs, is his unshakable composure right now, seated on heavenâs throne. Indeed, we are not yet fully glorified. We are not yet beyond the reach of earthly storms, injuries, strange behavior, and surprising acts of evil in this unreasonable world. But our captain is. As his soldiers, we draw on his calmness as absolute sovereign and utterly invincible. His holy composure and admirable serenity are not only our model to follow but also, and most significantly, our hope to lean on. Unlike the priests in the first covenant, standing  daily in Godâs service, ever in motion, âoffering repeatedly the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins . . . when Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, he sat down  at the right hand of Godâ (Hebrews 10:11â12). The priests stood, but as John Piper comments, Christ is not standing. He is not in perpetual motion. . . . He does happen to rule the world. And care for his church. But he doesnât need to stand up to do it. According to Psalm 8:3, he made the stars with his fingers. It is no stress for him to rule one, infinitesimal planet without jumping out of his seat like a basketball coach, or pacing back and forth like a general waiting for news from the front lines. The accession of Christ to the throne of the universe â and his sitting on his throne with complete equanimity â is a signal to all his enemies, and to us, that this war has been won. âThe enemies of Christ hate calm and fearless responses in Christâs people.â The enemies of Christ hate calm and fearless responses in Christâs people. They signal to Christâs foes that their destruction is coming (Philippians 1:28). But more than that, holy calm, in the midst of our storms, makes us available to love others in the thick of crises, rather than being absorbed in our reaction. Oh, for Christians like this in our day of outrage and outburst. And for men like this especially â for husbands and fathers and pastors â to be a non-anxious presence in our homes and churches. For men who lean on the stressless, complete equanimity of Christ, showing holy calmness through the emotionally trying and explosive moments in life and leadership, ready to be responsive without being reactive, engaged and even industrious without being frantic, able to hold their peace when needed, and bring genuine concord in our skirmishes, knowing the war has been won.
