There was a pause, and then the preacher resumed. "But there are two questions our hearts are asking, in the face of all this suffering: 'What is Christ doing?' and 'What shall we do?' There is no use in saying that the first of these questions is one which we ought not to ask at all. There are times when there is little use even in telling our passionate, aching human hearts that we ought to be satisfied with what we know and believe of His spiritual presence with His faithful people. Thank God, He did not forbid the questionings of His tried servant the prophet, who flung himself at His feet with the half-despairing cry, 'Righteous art Thou, O Lord, when I plead with Thee: yet let me talk with Thee of Thy judgments.' Nor of that other who pleaded, 'Thou art of purer eyes than to behold evil, and canst not look on iniquity: wherefore lookest Thou upon them that deal treacherously, and holdest Thy tongue when the wicked devoureth the man that is more righteous than he?' Indeed, I dare to think that, if we _do_ throw ourselves at His feet--the feet pierced for us--there is no question we may not ask Him there. "What then _is_ Christ doing? He sits in His glory at the right hand of the Father; He sees all this agony, and He _lets it still go on_. He sustains the sufferers; He strengthens and comforts them often; but--He _lets it still go on_. 'How can He bear it?' our hearts cry out sometimes. I think the answer is, that He _is_ bearing it. He suffered for the sufferers; that is not all--He suffers _with_ them. That is yet not all; He suffers _in_ them. They are not His people only, but His members; of His flesh and of His bones. For reasons inscrutable to us, His agony must go on still in them--still He cries to the oppressor, 'Why persecutest thou Me?' But one day He and they, and we also, shall see the end. Then shall we know the secret of the Lord; then shall the mystery of God be finished. "Meanwhile, with the martyrs it is well. 'Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve Him day and night in His temple, and He that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them.' But _all_ are not yet there, beyond the agony. For the thousands upon thousands of sufferers, bereaved, tortured, famine-stricken, dying slowly in Turkish prisons, or, deepest horror of all, in Turkish harems, what shall we say? Is the burden laid on our hearts for them too heavy to be borne? Remember, Christ bears it _with us_, as, in a deeper sense than we can fathom, Christ bears it _in them_. "I think this answers our second question, What shall we do? 'It is MY SAVIOUR struggling there in those poor limbs I see.' Friends, if He is there indeed, in His members, what sacrifice would we not make, what treasure would we not pour out with joy, to come to His help?