Lovest Thou Me
wHe saith unto him the third time, Simon, Bon of Jonas, lovest thou me?”
A. Saviour, a Friend, a Master, a God — such the great requirement of the human spirit, and it is the provision for this requirement which makes the Gospel so welcome, so glorious.
You want a Saviour. You are a sinner. You have broken God’s law, and, in thought, word, and deed, you are offending every day. Of this, perhaps, you are poignantly aware. If life should be the perpetual effort to please God, your life has been a continual shortcoming; if self-indulgence is sin, your life has been a long transgression; and, speaking of your depravity, you have no name dark enough to describe it. You adopt the strong words of the Psalmist, “Mine iniquities have gone over mine head: as a heavy burden, they are too heavy for me.” “There is no soundness in my flesh, nor any rest in my bones, because of my sin.” “I have been as a beast before thee.”
Or, possibly, you are sorry that you do not feel your sinfulness more. It seems to you as if the most alarming thing about you were your apathy, and, if you have any anxiety, it is anxiety caused by your own carelessness and easy-mindedness. You wish you were as far as the publican, so as to pray with some urgency, “God be merciful to me a sinner;” and, if you ever feel a momentary trepidation, it is from the view of your own composure in the face of your habitual ungodliness and its tremendous consequences.
But, sure enough, whether tranquil or terror-stricken, whether self-complacent or self-disgusted, you own yourself a sinner, and to you as a sinner Christ comes as a Saviour. Having died to atone, He lives to pity and pardon, to intercede and to save. It is your happy lot to be under the reign of God’s grace, and not more truly this morning did the day-spring roll back the dark awning of night, and let through the sunbeams, than Christ’s advent has dispelled the dark frown of God’s justice, and on lost humanity let through the smile of propitious Deity. “Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light.” Have done with dreaming; from the nightmare slumber in which sinful pleasures and ghastly illusions maintain their dance of death, come forth into Christ’s own sunshine. Look up into that countenance which says so benignantly, “Thy sins be forgiven thee,” and, by keeping in that light, your iniquities shall from you be put and kept away as far as the east is from the west — as far as summer noon is removed from the wintry nadir.* Do you, as a sinner, accept Christ as a Saviour, and at once for your “beauteous robe” you have His righteousness, even as for His recompense He has your soul.
To the door, or rather into the dwelling, of every sinner, Christ comes day by day. Each morning you awake, in His unrecalled Gospel and all-pervading presence there is a Saliour still beside you; and in order to share the
Eph. v. 14; 1 J jhn i. 7 j Psalm ciii. 10 — 12. gifts He bought for the rebellious, it only needs that you welcome Him and appropriate them. Ho as your neighbour did: he awoke to-day in spirits perhaps more depressed than you, but he soon bethought himself, “The Lord liveth, blessed be my Rock;” and it was somewhat to this effect he spoke: “I am a worm, and no man; O Saviour, perfect Thy strength in my weakness. My sins are a weighty burden; I cannot carry them. O Lamb of God, I lay them upon Thee, and as Thou takest them away, grant me Thy peace. I am a burden to myself; such confusion, such corruption, such earthly-mindedness — so mean-spirited, with aims so paltry, and tastes so coarse, and conduct so contemptible, if sure of heaven, I could almost pray to be taken hence.
* Then of a sinner thou art rid,
And I am free from sin.’
But as it is not into the holy place that I am going, but into the tempting, dissipating, hardening world, come with me, O Thou Mighty and Merciful High Priest. Hide me in secret of Thy presence. Let Thy Holy Spirit dwell with me, keeping my heart pure and my conscience tender, — supplying fortitude, patience, recollectedness, energy.”
It was thus lie prayed; and though not a word of reply was audible, there was an answer to that prayer. It is answered in a certain serenity, of spirit and assurance Godward. It is answered in the believer’s good hope, so different from the worldling’s gay forgetfulness — in a conscience no longer callous, but sprinkled from dead works, freed from the encrusting hardness and the guilty bondage, and trying to please that Father whose lovingkindness it trusts and tenderly adores.
And if you, too, were wise, you would do as he has done. Your neighbour’s Saviour you would accept as your own; and, without waiting for the Christ of to-morrow, you would welcome the Christ of to-day. Like Levi making a great feast, giving grateful reception to Him who comes to be the guest of sinners, and who, to as many as receive Him, gives a princely yatent, “power to become the sons of God,” — extending the homage and hospitality of your best affections to that illustrious Visitant who into your mean abode condescends to come with all His purifying ennobling resources; — like Zaccheus, you would find that in the person of a welcomed Saviour salvation was come into your soul.
A discovery which will prolong and expand into another: — He who has found a Saviour has found something more than a moral remedy or a good physician: he has found an all-sufficient, never-failing Friend. The immense benevojence of Jesus it needs faith of God’s own giving to believe; it will need the experience of eternity to understand. But you are well off who have such a Friend — a Friend whose mysterious love found an attraction in your very misery, and whose kindness finds congenial occupation in doing for you “exceeding abundantly, above all that you can ask or think” — a Friend who, in saying, “Ask, and ye shall receive,” has given you unlimited command of His services.
44 Weak though we are. He still is near To lead, console, defend;
In all our sorrow, sin, and fear,
Our all-sufficient Friend
LOYEST THOU ME *
DO
“From His high throne in bliss He deigns Our every prayer to heed;
Bears with our folly, soothes our pains. Supplies our every need.
“And from His love’s exhaustless spring J oys like a river come,
To make the desert bloom and sing
O’er which we travel home.”
“Oh, J esus, there is none like Thee!” as they know best who are most in His company. When your heart is near breaking, to Him tell the sorrow; and whilst at His feet the tears are still falling, over your wounded spirit He will be distilling that gentle balm which will at once assuage the pain and strengthen your heart. When in straits and sore perplexity, resort to this wonderful Counsellor, to whom all future** are foreknown — to whom no path is formidable; and who, if in the Yalley of Achor no door should open, can save His people by giving them the wings as of an eagle, or snatching them up to His throne.* When harassed by unbelief, unhinged by contro-
* Rev. xii. 5, 14. versy, or puzzled by hard questions — when books fail to satisfy and reasonings are not conclusive, commit the matter to the Lord; and as He sends forth His light and truth, “His Spirit is good,” and by that best of casuists led to the land of uprightness, you will find at once intellectual repose and spiritual renovation. When weakened in the way, tired with working, tired with pain, tired with sinning — when resolution flags and old incentives fail, when you can neither creep nor run, “wait upon the Lord:” “wait, I say, upon the Lord;” and although it were sitting silent in His presence, those that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. You shall get courage to resume; and when you try again, you shall run and not be weary, you shall walk and not faint.*
“J esus, my Master!” were words so sweet to St. Bernard, that he never wearied repeating them. And we want a Master, a Lord — an intellectual pre-eminence, to which we are compelled to do homage — a moral superiority, which bids us at once admire and despair. And “One is your Master, even * Isa. xl. 31.
Christ,” that great Teacher, whose words of “life and spirit” you have at once found saving truth and a personal transformation — that King of kings in whose life you have learned to live, in serving whom powers and faculties hitherto mute and unmeaning have discovered at once a sufficient use and an immortal bestowment — that Saviour- Sovereign, of whom it may be truly said, that the more entirely you obey Him, the more king-like you are — the more entirely you belong to Him, the more thoroughly are you master of yourself.
However, we want more than a Friend or a Master; we want not only to love and obey, we want to worship. We want some one to whom we shall not have given too much when we have given all our heart, and soul, and strength, and mind. And so it completes the case when revelation steps in, and for the express image of the Father claims that reverence which given to a creature were idolatry, but which withheld from Christ is robbery.* Obedient to the behest which bids even angels worship Him,+ to the * Phil. ii. 6 — 10. f Heb. i. 6. name of Jesus our adoring spirit bows, and, in common with “every creature which is in heaven,” we rejoice to ascribe “blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb, for ever and ever.” Him whom we have learned to trust as our Saviour, and love as our Friend, and follow as our Master, in wonder and worship, with Thomas, we also hail as our Lord and our God.
Temperaments are diverse; and love to the Lord Jesus may also vary according to that aspect of His work or person on which the enlightening Spirit has fixed the beholder’s eye. Where there has gone before a deep sense of sin, with a fervor faintly shared by others the rescued spirit sings His praise who took it from the fearful pit, and the prevailing sentiment towards the great Deliverer is gratitude. Another may find himself attracted by the grace and truth, the majestic beauty and endearing goodness, of the Son of God, and by an affinity Heaven-imparted, to One fairer than the sons of men his spirit may ascend and cling. Whilst, in the awe-struck g 2 homage of yet a third, — some bold transgressor violently arrested, or some proud intellect led captive, but still apt to struggle, — amidst all the gratitude and complacency there may sometimes revive such consciousness of sin as almost to shrink from a Presence too sacred, and the love may not be so perfect as to cast out all fear. Then, again, with the natural constitution may vary the amount of this affection and the modes of its manifestation. Silent and sensitive, to some an oral confession is an appalling martyrdom; whilst others would not feel honest unless they exclaimed, “Lord, I will follow Thee to prison and to death!” Just as, on the other hand, the love which, without speaking one syllable, a penitent utters in convulsive sobs and fast-flowing tears, and which the twice- converted Peter exhibits alike in zealous deeds and warm words of devotion, the son of Zebedee shows in the joy which his Master’s presence imparts — in the rapture with which he sees Him come again — and in the expressive silence, the delicate discernment, which, without saying aught about his love, or waiting to be bidden, when the Master moves, constrain him to arise and follow where He goes before.
Love to the Lord Jesus is the essence of religion; and, without discussing how much of it is needful to constitute a Christian, let us urge its unspeakable importance. If you have it not, — if the Lord J esus is no Friend of yours, we cannot promise you much happiness in the present life; for the best happiness is to be found in Him to whom you still are a stranger. And with yourself there must be something radically wrong. To be capable of loving others, yet to have no love to Christ is a terrible anomaly; for which you account more terribly if you say, He is too* kind, too holy, too much like Cod Himself.. And your prospects are awful, — “If any man love not the Lord Jesus, let him be accursed; when the Lord cometh.” * So excellent in Himself is the Lord Jesus, and so suited to* our need, that most reasonably and righteously God the Father employs Him as a test or touchstone of the sons of men. By the* treatment He receives the thoughts of many * 1 Cor. xvi. 22. hearts are revealed; and if, after listening to that voice from heaven, — “This is my beloved Son; hear ye Him,” — if you will not hear Him, or if, looking at Him, you declare there is no beauty in Him, nothing for which you should desire Him — then Christ’s home cannot be your heaven; and God has for you no other Saviour; nor is there the least prospect that eternity will ever bring you another Gospel. You have too much reason to desire that the Lord’s coming may be remote; for what but consternation, and the curse of perpetual banishment from His presence, can the approach of an unloved Saviour bring you? And how enhanced will be your misery, should it prove that it was some horrid sin which hindered you from loving Him! — should it prove that, amongst the candidates who, with silent appeal or clamorous importunity, came day by day soliciting your preference, you gave a cold or angry look to the kind and holy Jesus, and put the prize into the hand of some lust or evil passion!
“God forbid that I should treat Him thus!” do you exclaim? “But I know not loyest thou me? what to do. I am told that I must get love to Christ; and, in order to get love, I must get faith; and, in order to get faith, I must ask the gift of the Holy Spirit. I would be so thankful to be able to say what Peter said; but, before I get that length, the process seems so intricate that I quite despair. And, besides, — forgive me for saying it, — but I feel that it is not in human nature to be frightened into faith and love.”
True; but people are sometimes frightened out of apathy or recklessness. “If you go on at this rate,” says a friendly monitor, “you will land in the workhouse,” and the spendthrift pulls up. He bends his mind to the business of retrenchment; and, first amused, then interested with the experiment of living upon little, he at last grows habitually frugal; and, in as far as he was startled out of wastefulness, you may say that he has been frightened into forethought and economy. So some have been frightened into health and a long life. “If you go on at this rate,” says the faithful physician, “next autumn will see you in your grave;” and the man believes it, and gives up his dissipation, and takes the prescription, and attains a green old age.
So the Bible would be a cruel book if it was not with a kind intention that it employed such alarming language — “He that belie veth not is condemned already, and shall be lost eternally. He that loves not the Lord Jesus shall be accursed at His coming, y These are true sayings, and terrible; but, in order that they may cease to be frightful, your wisdom is to quit that class to whom they apply.
For, if he who believes not is lost, he who believes in the Lord Jesus is safe: he shall never perish, nor come into condemnation. If you would throw yourself on His grace and power, there is nothing which He has been to others but He is willing to be to you. If just as He is you go to Him just as you are, He will receive you; and if you keep near Him He will not only forgive your iniquities but heal your diseases, and will crown you with loving-kindness and tender mercies.
“How soon?” This instant; for He is now waiting to be gracious. On His side no further preparation is needful. There “all things are ready.” Incline your ear, and go to Him Mho, with arms extended world ward, and wide enough to embrace us all, says, “Come unto Me.” To prepare the Saviour for the sinner nothing farther is needful: and do you, 0 sinner, without farther preparation, come. Halt, maimed, and ragged, without waiting till your raiment is more reputable or your lameness has gone tpff, without waiting till your faith is strong, or your repentance has confirmed into saintly character, go to the Lord Jesus just as you are, and He will supply all that you need. He will give you a place at that feast which He has prepared for the unprepared, for those whom the invitation surprises in ditches and on dust-heaps, on highways and in hedges, and whom the robe of His own providing, together with His own exalted fellowship and His Spirit’s reviving energy, transforms into the sons and daughters of the Lord Almighty.
Alas! we are slow to understand. Even whilst gazing into the Gospel, how our eyes are holden so as not to see its most marvellous, announcement! As has been wf 11 remarked, “The power of God is not the inmost centre of His being, but His holiness and love are. the power above His omnipotence. He reveals Himself not only as a holy Lawgiver and Judge, demanding our services, but as holy, communicative love, proposing it to Himself as His end in creation — the production of loving beings, made after His own likeness.”* To get hold of this truth is to get hold of the principle which underlies the Gospel, and which comes out in every faithful saying. It is to get as much insight as revelation itself imparts into the deep things of Deity, and it is the firmest foot-hold which faith can hope to gain when wishing to feel assured and confiding towards Infinite Excellence, God is love; and when He made man at the first, He made him after His own image — full of affectionate devotion, full of loving-kindness. And although man has destroyed himself — although, from the broken cistern of the human heart, this living water has all run out, J esus has brought it back again. Himself the manifestation of Heaven’s compassion, and the great magazine of God’s mercies to mankind, we drink the living water when we believe
* Dorner, in that great repertory of sound and seasonable theology, “The British and Foreign Evangelical Review,” vol. xi., p. 630.
His own declaration, and surrender to the Father’s love. We drink the living water when we taste the sweetness of pardoning mercy, and suffer ourselves to be once more beloved by Gtod* We drink the living water, and, instead of perishing, we possess eternal life j for we believe that great love which God had toward us when He sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins. And thus believing, we become new creatures. We get again some of those lineaments which were lost in the Fall. We begin again to love God whom we have not seen, as also the brother whom we see; — thus again evincing a recovered celestial sonship; for “God is love, and every one that loveth is born of God.”
Passing through the desert, you pick up a withered gourd. You are amazed at its lightness, and much do you marvel how an object so bulky should prove such absolute levity. Yet you can understand how it happened. Lying there in the burning sand, no wonder that every particle of sap is absorbed, and that its moisturo is turned into the drought of summer.
But noltf that you have come to this fountain, cast it in, and leave it a little. How is it now? Does it feel full and solid 1 Hay, cast it out on this mighty and horizonless main; and, after it has nodded and tumbled a while on the billows, stretch forth your hand, and take it up once more. Is it not light and empty as ever ] And how is this ] With an ocean on every side, able to fill it millions of times over and over, why does it continue empty and void h Why, but because it is closed all round and round. There is not an open valve, nor the smallest crevice at which a drop can enter. It continues empty and hollow, because waterproof and hermetically sealed.
Have you never felt your own heart like that rattling gourd? — dry, empty, unloving 1 The deepest thing in all your nature — do you not feel that that deepest thing is a dismal void? Where love to God should be, — the spirit’s strength and blessedness, — does it not feel a great vacuity 1 — a thirsty chasm 1 — a dreary, sounding emptiness? And why is this 1 Is God unloved, because unlovely h Is He unenjoyed, because unapproachable and incommunicable? Is it a dry, parched land — a dusty, burning desert, on which your poor soul is cast out to pine and shrivel? — a world from which, like the last shower which fell on Sahara, and which is long since forgotten, God’s kindness is long since departed h
Ah, no! the gourd is afloat. All round is the Gospel. On every side stretches the multitudinous expanse of God’s mercies. It was He who shed down sweet sleep on your eyelids last night, and roused you this morning to blessings wide as your horizon and high as His own heaven. It is He who, every Sabbath in the sermon, and every day in His own Book, keeps whispering, “Trust me: love me: believe me: return to your spirit’s Father: oh, be reconciled to God!” And if your spirit is not long since inundated and surcharged with the inflowings of fatherly affection, and the raptures of filial devotion, it is because unbelief has made it love-proof, and, amidst the full flood of God’s mercies, keeps it hermetically sealed.
Such is the soul of the worldling. Such is the heart of the unbeliever. It is a little self-contained desert afloat on an ocean of blessing; and it is only by breaking the heart — by making an opening in the love-excluding H
unbelief, crushing in its arrogance and self-sufficiency — that the same stroke of God’3 Spirit which reveals its own emptiness, lets in something of the encompassing Gospel, and fills it with peace and joy in believing.
It is this holy love, — it is this opening of the heart to God’s good will, — which draws back to Himself that heart in grateful devotion and tender affiance. The love of God you cannot overrate, nor from its infinite well-spring drink too largely. “God is love;” and to believe that love, of which the sinless creation is the boundless sphere, and of which Calvary is the focus concentered, the bright and burning expression, — to believe that it is not a cold law, a dark fate, a sombre power, in which you live and move and have your being; but to believe that it is God’s great life which now encircles and will eternal1/ enclasp your little life; to believe that a Be ng most wise, most holy, most tenderly merciful, hovers round your daily path, guards your bed of slumber, and listens to your every prayer; to believe that that God whom J esus loved so ardently, in communion with whom He spent the nights so pleasantly, and into whose hands He commended Kis t it so serenely; to believe that this God and Father of the Lord Jesus is for Jesus’ sake a fatherly, loving God to you; — to get grace to believe this is to learn the lesson which the Incarnate Word was constantly teaching, and the faith of which gave to John and his brethren their fulness of joy.
If you, too, would be happy, learn to love. Yiew God as He reveals Himself. Believe Him to be what Jesus said; believe Him to be what Jesus was. When any mercy or any happy moment comes, remember the pleasant truth — God Himself is near. A nd just as in your chamber there is a brightness, and though you cannot see the firmament, you know the unclouded sun is shining: so in your home there is health, there is comfort, there is a glow of affection, and you feel, How sacred is this happiness! It is a smile from God. And just as your little child wakes up and finds a present on his pillow, and shouts forth his wonder and his thanks: so when, through no labour of your hands, through no procurement or desert of yours, there comes to you some good and perfect gift, you cry, h 2 “Thanks be to God, through Jesus Christ! My Heavenly Father has been here; for it is thus He giveth to His beloved in their sleep.”