This is the deeper, the rarer meaning of the word, rarer both in being less frequent and in being very precious. Fellowship friends may be many; emergency friends very, very few. And if circumstances so turn out that this man who has so rarely proven himself your friend, is himself in some emergency, and you are now in position to help him, as once he helped you, you count it not only an obligation of the highest sort, but the rarest of privileges. And with great joy you come to his help without stopping to count the cost in the doubtful, questioning way. Friendship is mutual. Now this second, this deep, rare meaning, is the one we're using just now. It comes to include the fellowship meaning, so enriching the emergency friendship yet more. But the emphasis is on the emergency meaning of the word friendship. Our Friend was a friend in this deepest, rarest way, in the desperate emergency of our lives. And now this Friend of ours is in need, a need so great that it is an emergency. And this seems a startling thing to say. You may think I'm indulging some rhetorical figure of speech merely. He, the Lord Jesus, in need! He is now seated at the Father's right hand in glory. He is "far above all rule and authority and power and dominion." He is the sovereign ruler of our world. How can it be said, with any soberness of practical meaning, that He is in need, and in desperate need? Yet, let me repeat very quietly, that it is even so. _He needs our co-operation._ He needs the human means through which to work out His plans. The power of God has always flowed _through human channels_. And His plans _have waited,_ have been delayed because He has not always been able to find men willing to let Him use them as He will. This is the only explanation of the long, weary waiting of the earth for His promised Kingdom. This, only, explains centuries of delay in the working out of His plans. The delay, the dark centuries, the misery,--these have been no part of His plan, but dead set against His plan. "The restless millions wait the Light, Whose coming maketh all things new. _Christ also waits_; but men are slow and late. Have we done what we could? Have I? Have you?" Some unknown friend, on seeing the statue of General Gordon, as it stands facing the great desert and the Soudan at Khartoum, made these lines: "The strings of camels come in single file, Bearing their burdens o'er the desert sand: Swiftly the boats go plying on the Nile. The needs of men are met on every hand, But still I wait For the messenger of God _who cometh late_. I see the clouds of dust rise in the plain, The measured tread of troops falls on the ear; The soldier comes the empire to maintain, Bringing the pomp of war, the reign of fear, But still I wait The messenger of peace, _he cometh late_.