Exodus 15:26

And said, if thou wilt diligently hearken to the voice of the Lord thy God,....

"But, if thou wilt be obedient, thou shalt be safe and happy;" the threatening is implied only, but the promise is expressed: " I am the Lord that healeth thee, and will take care of thy comfort wherever thou goest." Note, God is the great physician.

WE shall consider this passage in its context, for I have no doubt that the miracle at Marah was intended to be a very instructive illustration of the glorious title which is here claimed by the Covenant God of Israel— "I am Jehovah-Rophi, the Lord that heals you." The illustration introduces the sermon of which this verse is the text. The healing of the bitter waters is the parable of which the line before us is the lesson. How different is the Lord to His foes and to His friends! His Presence is light to Israel and darkness to Egypt. Egypt only knew Jehovah as the Lord that plagues and destroys those who refuse to obey Him. Is not this the Lord's memorial in Egypt, that He cut Rahab and wounded the dragon? He overthrew their armies at the Red Sea and drowned their hosts beneath the waves! But to His own people, in themselves but very little superior to the Egyptians, God is not the terrible Avenger consuming His adversaries, but, "Jehovah that heals you." Their mental and moral diseases were almost as great as those of the Egyptians whom the Lord cut off from before Him, but He spared His chosen for His Covenant's sake. He bared the sword of Justice against rebellious Pharaoh and then He turned His tender, healing hand out to His own people, to exercise towards them the heavenly surgery of His Grace. Israel knew Him as the Lord that heals and Egypt knew Him as the Lord that smites! Let us adore the Grace which makes so wide a difference—the Sovereign Grace which brings salvation unto Israel—and let us confess our own personal obligations to the mercy which has not dealt with us after our sins, nor rewarded us according to our iniquities! Again, how differently does God deal with His own people from what we should have expected. He is a God of surprises! He does things which we looked not for.

AFTER I had fallen down at Mentone, and was grievously ill, a Brother in Christ called to me and said, "My dear Friend, you have now come to Marah." I replied, "Yes, and the waters are bitter." He then said, "But Marah is better than Elim, for in Elim the Israelites only drank of the water and ate of the fruit of the palm trees, and that was soon over. But at Marah we read that God, 'made for them a statute and an ordinance,' and that was never over.

AFTER I had fallen down at Mentone, and was grievously ill, a Brother in Christ called to me and said, "My dear Friend, you have now come to Marah." I replied, "Yes, and the waters are bitter." He then said, "But Marah is better than Elim, for in Elim the Israelites only drank of the water and ate of the fruit of the palm trees, and that was soon over. But at Marah we read that God, 'made for them a statute and an ordinance,' and that was never over. That statute and ordinance stood fast and will stand fast for Israel as long as they are a nation. There is much more benefit to be reaped from Marah than from Elim." I thanked my friend for that good word. I had found it true before. I have found it true since then and you and I, if we are, indeed, the people of God, will find it true to the end, that Marah, though it is bitter, is also better. And albeit that we do not like it, yet in the end there shall be no bitterness in it, but an unutterable sweetness which shall be ours through time and eternity! We have a long record about Marah, have we not? I have read you four verses concerning Marah. How many verses have we about Elim? Only one. Does Marah deserve to be talked about four times as much as Elim? Perhaps it does. Perhaps there is four times as much fruit to be obtained from the bitter waters of Marah than from the 12 springs of water, and 70 palm trees at Elim. Who knows? This I know, however, that we are very apt to talk more about our bitters than about our sweets—and that is a serious fault. It were well if we had fewer murmuring words for our sorrows and more songs of thanksgiving for our blessings.