Romanian Richard Wurmbrand (1909-2001) warns children at his church that they must be ready for suffering and endures 14 years of imprisonment and torture.

Preparing for Suffering -- Now!

Richard Wurmbrand endured fourteen years of imprisonment and torture in his homeland of Romania between 1948 and 1964. He had been leading a secret underground ministry when the Communists seized Romania and tried to control the church for their purposes. Wurmbrand, like the apostle Peter, stressed the tremendous need to get spiritually ready to suffer.

Richard Wurmbrand in prison during the 1950s.

"What shall we do about these tortures? Will we be able to bear them? If I do not bear them I put in prison another fifty or sixty men whom I know, because that is what the Communists wish from me, to betray those around me. And here comes the great need for the role of preparation for suffering which must start now. It is too difficult to prepare yourself for it when the Communists have you in prison.

Your forefathers in faith were thrown before such wild beasts for their faith

“The Christian Martyrs' Last Prayer” by Jean-Léon Gérôme, 1883

I remember my last Confirmation class before I left Romania. I took a group of ten to fifteen boys and girls on a Sunday morning, not to a church, but to the zoo. Before the cage of lions I told them, "Your forefathers in faith were thrown before such wild beasts for their faith. Know that you also will have to suffer. You will not be thrown before lions, but you will have to do with men who would be much worse than lions. Decide here and now if you wish to pledge allegiance to Christ." They had tears in their eyes when they said yes.

Nobody resists who has not renounced the pleasures of life beforehand

Richard Wurmbrand, circa 1948.

We have to make the preparation now, before we are imprisoned. In prison you lose everything. You are undressed and given a prisoner's suit. No more nice furniture, nice carpets, or nice curtains. You do not have a wife any more and you do not have your children. You do not have your library and you never see a flower. Nothing of what makes life pleasant remains. Nobody resists who has not renounced the pleasures of life beforehand."

Source: Piper, John. Let the Nations Be Glad! The Supremacy of God in Missions, 2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2003, page 101.  

Christianity is the secret to happiness, argues Andrew Fuller (1754-1815).

Does happiness lie in having one's inclinations gratified or in self-denial or in peace of mind?

Mr. Hume, in one of his Essays, very properly called The Sceptic, seems to think that happiness lies in having one's inclinations gratified; and as different men have different inclinations, and even the same men at different times, that may be happiness in one case which is misery in another. This sceptical writer, however, would hardly deny that in happiness, as in other things, there is a false and a true, an imaginary and a real; or that a studied indulgence of the appetites and passions, though it should promote the one, would destroy the other. The light of nature, as acknowledged even by deists, teaches that self-denial, in many cases, is necessary to self-preservation; and that to act a contrary part would be to ruin our peace and destroy our health. I presume it will be granted that no definition of happiness can be complete which includes not peace of mind, which admits not of perpetuity, or which meets not the necessities and miseries of human life.

Could a life of unchastity, intrigue, dishonour, and disappointed pride be a happy life?

Jean-Jacques Rousseau (28 June 1712 – 2 July 1778) was a Francophone Genevan philosopher, writer, and composer of the 18th century. His political philosophy influenced the Enlightenment in France and across Europe, as well as aspects of the French Revolution and the overall development of modern political and educational thought.

But if nothing deserves the name of happiness which does not include peace of mind, all criminal pleasure is at once excluded. Could a life of unchastity, intrigue, dishonour, and disappointed pride, like that of Rousseau, be a happy life? No; amidst the brilliancy of his talents, remorse, shame, conscious meanness, and the dread of an hereafter, must corrode his heart, and render him a stranger to peace. Contrast with the life of this man that of Howard. Pious, temperate, just, and benevolent, he lived for the good of mankind. His happiness consisted in "serving his generation by the will of God." If all men were like Rousseau, the world would be abundantly more miserable than it is; if all were like Howard, it would be abundantly more happy. Rousseau, governed by the love of fame, is fretful and peevish, and never satisfied with the treatment he receives: Howard, governed by the love of mercy, shrinks from applause, with this modest and just reflection, "Alas! our best performances have such a mixture of sin and folly, that praise is vanity, and presumption, and pain to a thinking mind." Rousseau, after a life of debauchery and shame, confesses it to the world, and makes a merit of his confession, and even presumptuously supposes that it will avail him before the Judge of all: Howard, after a life of singular devotedness to God, and benevolence to men, accounted himself an unprofitable servant, leaving this for his motto, his last testimony, "Christ is my hope." Can there be any doubt which of the two was the happier man?

All natural pleasure, when weighed against the hopes and joys of the gospel, will be found wanting. Who but Christians can contemplate the loss of all present enjoyments with satisfaction? Who else can view death, judgment, and eternity with desire?



A flower, a skull and an hourglass stand for life, death and time in this 17th-century painting by Philippe de Champaigne

Further, If nothing amounts to real happiness which admits not of perpetuity, all natural pleasure, when weighed against the hopes and joys of the gospel, will be found wanting. It is an expressive characteristic of the good things of this life, that "they all perish with the using." The charms of youth and beauty quickly fade. The power of relishing natural enjoyments is soon gone. The pleasures of active life, of building, planting, forming schemes, and achieving enterprises, soon follow. In old age none of them will flourish, and in death they are exterminated. "The mighty man, and the man of war, the judge, and the prophet, and the prudent, and the ancient, the captain of fifty, and the honourable man, and the counsellor, and the cunning artificer, and the eloquent orator," all descend in one undistinguished mass into oblivion. And as this is a truth which no man can dispute, those who have no prospects of a higher nature must often feel themselves unhappy. Contrast with this the joys of the gospel. These, instead of being diminished by time, are often increased. To them the son of age is friendly. While nature has been fading and perishing by slow degrees, how often have we seen faith, hope, love, patience, and resignation to God in full bloom! Who but Christians can contemplate the loss of all present enjoyments with satisfaction? Who else can view death, judgment, and eternity with desire? I appeal to the hearts of libertines and unbelievers, whether they have not many misgivings and revoltings within them; and whether, in the hour of solitary reflection, they have not sighed the wish of Balaam, "Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his!"

The dreadful vacancy and wretchedness of a mind left to itself in the decline of life

Romans during the Decadence, by Thomas Couture

The following extract from a letter of a late nobleman, of loose principles, well known in the gay world, and published as authentic by a respectable prelate, deceased, will show the dreadful vacancy and wretchedness of a mind left to itself in the decline of life, and unsupported by Christian principle.- "I have seen the silly round of business and pleasure, and have done with it all. I have enjoyed all the pleasures of the world, and consequently know their futility, and do not regret their loss. I appraise them at their real value, which in truth is very low; whereas those who have not experienced always overrate them. They only see their gay outside, and are dazzled with their glare; but I have been behind the scenes. I have seen all the coarse pulleys and dirty ropes which exhibit and move the gaudy machine; and I have seen and smelt the tallow candles which illuminate the whole decoration, to the astonishment and admiration of the ignorant audience. When I reflect on what I have seen, what I have heard, and what I have done, I cannot persuade myself that all that frivolous hurry of bustle and pleasure of the world had any reality; but I look on all that is past as one of those romantic dreams which opium commonly occasions, and I do by no means wish to repeat the nauseous close for the sake of the fugitive dream. Shall I tell you that I bear this melancholy situation with that meritorious constancy and resignation that most men boast? No, sir, I really cannot help it. I bear it because I must bear it, whether I will or no. I think of nothing but killing time the best way I can, now that time is become my enemy. It is my resolution to sleep in the carriage during the remainder of the journey."

Differing death bed confessions

Voltaire's tomb in the Paris Panthéon

"You see," reflects the worthy prelate, "in how poor, abject, and unpitied a condition, at a time when he most wanted help and comfort, the world left him, and he left the world. Compare these words with those of another person, who took his leave in a very different manner: "I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord the righteous Judge shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also who love his appearing." It is observable that even Rousseau himself, though the language certainly did not become his lips, affected in advanced life to derive consolation from Christian principles. In a letter to Voltaire he says, "I cannot help remarking, sir, a very singular contrast between you and me. Sated with glory, and undeceived with the inanity of worldly grandeur, you live at freedom, in the midst of plenty, certain of immortality; you peaceably philosophize on the nature of the soul; and if the body or the heart be indisposed, you have Tronchin for your physician and friend. Yet with all this you find nothing but evil on the face of the earth. I, on the other hand, obscure, indigent, tormented with an incurable disorder, meditate with pleasure in my solitude, and find every thing to be good. Whence arise these apparent contradictions? You have yourself explained them. You live in a state of enjoyment, I in a state of hope; and hope gives charms to every thing."

Happiness should meet necessities and relieve the miseries of human life

Tragic Comic Masks Hadrian's Villa mosaic

Finally, If nothing deserves the name of happiness which meets not the necessities nor relieves the miseries of human life, Christianity alone can claim it. Every one who looks into his own heart, and makes proper observations on the dispositions of others, will perceive that man is possessed of a desire after something which is not to be found under the sun - after a good which has no limits. We may imagine our desires are moderate, and set boundaries, beyond which we may flatter ourselves we should never wish to pass; but this is self-deception. He that sets his heart on an estate, if he gain it, will wish for something more. It would be the same if it were a kingdom, or even if all the kingdoms of the world were united in one. Nor is this desire to be attributed merely to human depravity, for it is the same with regard to knowledge the mind is never satisfied with its present acquisitions. It is depravity that directs us to seek satisfaction in something short of God; but it is owing to the nature of the soul that we are never able to find it. It is not possible that a being created immortal, and with a mind capable of continual enlargement, should obtain satisfaction in a limited good. Men may spend their time and strength, and even sacrifice their souls, in striving to grasp it, but it will elude their pursuit. It is only from an uncreated source that the mind can drink its fill. Here it is that the gospel meets our necessities. Its language is, "Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is not bread, and your labour for that which satisfieth not? Hearken diligently unto me, and eat ye that which is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness. Incline your ear, and come unto me; hear, and your soul shall live." "In the last day, that great day of the feast, Jesus stood and cried, saying, If any man thirst, let him come unto me, and drink." "He that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst." How this language has been verified, all who have made the trial can testify. To them, as to the only competent witnesses, I appeal.

What must I do to be saved?

It is not merely the nature of the soul however, but its depravity, whence our necessities arise. We are sinners. Every man who believes there is a God, and a future state, or even only admits the possibility of them, feels the want of mercy. The first inquiries of a mind awakened to reflection will be how he may escape the wrath to come - how he shall get over his everlasting ruin. A heathen, previously to any Christian instruction, exclaimed, in the moment of alarm, "What must I do to be saved?" Acts 16:30. And several Mahometans, being lately warned by a Christian minister of their sinful state, came the next morning to him with this very serious question - Keman par hoibo? - "How shall we get over?" To answer these inquiries is beyond the power of any principles but those of the gospel. Philosophy may conjecture, superstition may deceive, and even a false system of Christianity may be aiding and abetting; each may labour to lull the conscience to sleep, but none of them can yield it satisfaction. It is only by believing in Jesus Christ, the great sacrifice that taketh away the sin of the world, that the sinner obtains a relief which will bear reflection - a relief which, at the same time, gives peace to the mind and purity to the heart. For the truth of this also I appeal to all who have made the trial.

Consider Jesus who endured persecution and reproach and death itself to cheer your heart and tolerate your afflictions and run with patience the race which is set before you

Pietro Perugino's depiction of the Crucifixion as Stabat Mater, 1482

Where, but in the gospel, will you find relief under the innumerable ills of the present state? This is the well-known refuge of Christians. Are they poor, afflicted, persecuted, or reproached? They are led to consider Him who endured the contradiction of sinners, who lived a life of poverty and ignominy, who endured persecution and reproach, and death itself, for them; and to realize a blessed immortality in prospect. By a view of such things their hearts are cheered, and their afflictions become tolerable. Looking to Jesus, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is now set down at the right hand of the throne of God, they run with patience the race which is set before them. - But what is the comfort of unbelievers? Life being short, and having no ground to hope for any thing beyond it, if they be crossed here, they become inconsolable. Hence it is not uncommon for persons of this description, after the example of the philosophers and statesmen of Greece and Rome, when they find themselves depressed by adversity, and have no prospect of recovering their fortunes, to put a period to their lives! Unhappy men! Is this the felicity to which ye would introduce us! Is it in guilt, shame, remorse, and desperation that ye descry such charms! Admitting that our hope of immortality is visionary, where is the injury? If it be a dream, is it not a pleasant one? To say the least, it beguiles many a melancholy hour, and can do no mischief; but if it be a reality, what will become of you?

Reason may convince us of the being of a God, and conscience bear witness that we are exposed to his displeasure -- we shall of course either rest in some delusive hope, or sink into despair

Marie Bashkirtseff's Despair

I may be told that, if many put a period to their lives through unbelief, there is an equal number who fall sacrifices to religious melancholy. But, to render this objection of force, it should be proved that the religion of Jesus Christ is the cause of this melancholy. Reason may convince us of the being of a God, and conscience bear witness that we are exposed to his displeasure. Now if in this state of mind the heart refuse to acquiesce in the gospel way of salvation, we shall of course either rest in some delusive hope, or sink into despair. But here it is not religion, but the want of it, that produces the evil; it is unbelief, and not faith, that sinks the sinner into despondency. Christianity disowns such characters. It records some few examples, such as Saul, Ahithophel, and Judas; but they are all branded as apostates from God and true religion. On the contrary, the writings of unbelievers, both ancient and modern, are known to plead for suicide, as an expedient in extremity. Rousseau, Hume, and others have written in defense of it. The principles of such men both produce and require it. It is the natural offspring of unbelief, and the last resort of disappointed pride.

The poor are either Christians unaccompanied with discontent or non-Christians inclined to despair and wretchedness of mind

St. Francis of Assisi renounces his worldly goods in a painting attributed to Giotto di Bondone.

Whether Christianity or the want of it be best adapted to relieve the heart, under its various pressures, let those testify who have been in the habit of visiting the afflicted poor. On this subject the writer of these sheets can speak from his own knowledge. In this situation characters of very opposite descriptions are found. Some are serious and sincere Christians; others, even among those who have attended the preaching of the gospel, appear neither to understand nor to feel it. The tale of woe is told perhaps by both; but the one is unaccompanied with that discontent, that wretchedness of mind, and that inclination to despair, which is manifest in the other. Often have I seen the cheerful smile of contentment under circumstances the most abject and afflictive. Amidst tears of sorrow, which a full heart has rendered it impossible to suppress, a mixture of hope and joy has glistened. "The cup which my Father hath given me to drink, shall I not drink it?" Such have been their feelings, and such their expressions; and where this has been the case, death has generally been embraced as the messenger of peace. Here, I have said, participating of their sensations, - "here is the patience and the faith of the saints. Here are they that keep the commandments of God and the faith of Jesus. This is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith. - Who is he that overcometh the world, but be that believeth that Jesus is the Son of God?"

Source: Fuller, Andrew. The Complete Works of the Rev. Andrew Fuller with a Memoir of His Life by Andrew Gunton Fuller. London, UK: G. And J. Dyer, Paternoster Row, 1846, pages 24-26.