The Indispensable Necessity of Christian Love

A DISTINCTION has been introduced into the subject of religion, which, although not wholly free from objection, is sufficient to answer the purpose for which it is employed; I mean that which exists between essentials and non-essentials. It would be a difficult task to trace the boundary line by which these classes are divided; but the truth of the general idea cannot be questioned — -that there are some things, both in faith and practice, which, for want of perceiving the grounds of their obligation, we may neglect, and yet not be destitue of true religion; while there are others, the absence of which necessarily implies an unrenewed heart. Among the essentials of true piety, must be reckoned the disposition we are now considering. It is not to be classed with those observances and views which, though important, are not absolutely essential to salvation; we must possess it, or we are not Christians now, and shall not be admitted into heaven hereafter. The Apostle has expressed this necessity in the clearest and the strongest manner. He has put a hypothetical case of the most impressive kind, which I shall now illustrate.

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“Though I speak with the tongues of men or of angels, and have not charity, / ain become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.” — Yerse 1.

By the tongues of men and of angels, we are not to understand the powers of the loftiest eloquence, but the miraculous gift of tongues, accompanied by an ability to convey ideas according to the method of celestial beings. Should a man be invested with these stupendous endowments, and employ them in the service of the Gospel; still, if his heart were not a partaker of love, he would be no more acceptable to God, than was the clangor of the brazen instruments employed in the idolatrous worship of the Egyptian Isis or the noise of the tinkling cymbals which accompanied the orgies of the Grecian Cybele. Such a man’s profession of religion is not only worthless in the sight of God, but disagreeable and disgusting. The comparison is remarkably strong, inasmuch as it refers not to soft melodious sounds, as of the flute or of the harp — not to the harmonious chords of a concert, — but to the harsh dissonance of instruments of the most inharmonious character: and if, as is probable, the allusion be to the noisy clank of idolatrous musicians, the idea is as strongly presented as it is possible for the force of language to express it.

“And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not CHARITY, / am nothing.” — Yerse 2.

Paul still alludes to miraculous endowments. Prophecy, in the Scripture use of the term, is not limited to the foretelhng of future events, but means, to speak by inspiration of God; and its exercise, in this instance, reiers to the power of explaining, without premeditao^ % “Mistake, the typical and predictive parts of the Old Testament dispensation, together with the facts and doctrines of the Christian economy.” The faith that could remove mountains,” is an allusion to an expression of our Lord’s, which occurs in the Gospel history. “Verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove.” This faith is of a distinct nature altogether from that by which men are justified, and become the children of God. It has been called the faith of miracles, and seems to have consisted in a firm persuasion of the power or ability of God to do any miraculous thing for the support of the Gospel. It operated two ways: the first was a belief on the part of the person who wrought the miracle, that he was the subject of a divine impulse, and called at that time to perform such an act; and the other was a belief on the part of the person on whom a miracle was about to be performed, that such an affect would be really produced. Now the Apostle declared, that although a man had been gifted with prophecy, so as to explain the deepest mysteries of the Jewish or the Christian S3”stems, and, in addition, possessed that miraculous faith by which the most difficult and astonishing changes would have been effected, — he was nothing, and less than nothing, without love.

“And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not CHARITY, it profiteth me nothing.^^ — ^^erse 3.

This representation of the indispensable necessity of love is most striking; it supposes it possible that a man may distribute all his substance in acts of apparent beneficence, and yet, after all, be without true religion. Actions derive their moral character from the motives under the influence of which they are performed; and many which are beneficial to man, may still be sinful in the sight of God, because they are not done from a right inducement. The most diffusive liberality, if prompted by pride, vanity, or self-righteousness, is of no value in the eyes of the omniscient Jehovah; on the contrary, it is very sinful. And is it not too evident to be questioned, that many of the alms-deeds of which we are the witnesses, are done from any motives but the right ones ‘? We can readily imagine that multitudes are lavish in their pecuniary contributions, who are at the same time totally destitute of love to God and love to man; and if destitute of these sacred virtues, they are, as it respects real religion, less than nothing”, although they should spend every farthing of their property in relieving the wants of the poor. If our munificence, however great or self-denying, be the operation of mere selfish regard to ourselves, to our own reputation, or to our own safety, and not of pure love, it may do good to others, but will do none to ourselves. “And though I give my body to be burned,” i. e. as a martyr for religion, “and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.” Whether such a case as this ever existed, we know not; it is not impossible, nor improbable; but if it did, not the tortures of an agonizing death, nor the courage that endured themp nor the seeming zeal for religion which led to them, would be accepted in lieu of love to man. Such an instance of self-devotedness must have been the result either of that self-righteousness which substitutes its own sufferings for those of Christ, or of that love of fame which scruples not to seek it even in the fires of martyrdom; — in either case it partakes not of the nature, nor will receive the reward, of true religion. It will help to convince us, not only of the necessity, but of the importance, of this temper of mind, if we bring into a narrow compass the many and various representations of it which are to be found in the New Testament.

1. It is the object of the Divine decree in predestincttion. “According as he hath chosen us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before him in love.” — Ephes. i. 4.

2. It is the end and purpose of the moral law. “The end of the commandment is charity (love.”) “Jesus said unto him. Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart,^ and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it — Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.” — Matt. xxii. 37 — 40. “Love is the fulfilling of the law.”

S. It is the evidence of regeneration. “Love is of God, and every one that loveth is born of God.“” — 1 John iv. 7.

4. It is the necessary operation and effect of saving faith. “For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision availeth any thing, nor uncircumcision; but faith which worketh by love.”

5. It is that grace by which both personal and mutual edification is promoted. “Knowledge puffeth up, but charity (love) edifieth.” — 1 Cor. viii. 1. — “Maketh increase of the body to the edifying of itself in love.” — Eph. iv. 16.

6. It is the proof of a mutual inhabitation between God and his people. “If we love one another, God dwelleth in us, and his love is perfected in us. Hereby know we that we dwell in him, and he in us, because he hath given us of his Spirit. And we have known and believed the love that God hath to us. God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him.” — 1 John iv. 12 — 16.

7. It is declared to be the greatest of all the Christian virtues. “The greatest of these is charity (love.”)

8. It is represented as the perfection of religion. “Above all these things, put on charity (love,) which is the bond of perfectness.” — Col. iii. 4.

What encomiums are these! what striking proofs of the supreme importance of the disposition now under consideration! Who has not been guilty of some neglect of if? Who has not had his attention drawn too much from it? Who can read these passages of Holy Writ, and not feel convinced that not only mankind in general, but the professors of spiritual religion also, have too much mistaken the nature of true piety? What are clear and orthodox views — what are strong feelings — what is our faith — what our enjoyment — what our freedom from gross immorality, — without this spirit of pure and universal benevolence?

Whether an instance, we again repeat, ever existed of an individual whose circumstances answered to the supposition of the Apostle, we cannot determine; the statement certainly suggests to us a most alarming idea of our liability to self-deception in reference to our personal religion. Delusion on this subject prevails to an extent truly appalling. Millions are in error as to the real condition of their souls, and are travelling to perdition, while, according to their own idea, they are journeying to the celestial Canaan. Oh fearful mistake! Oh fatal imposture! What terrible disappointment awaits them! What horror, and anguish, and despair, will take eternal possession of their souls, in that moment of revelation, when, instead of awaking from the sleep of death amidst the glories of the heavenly city, they shall lift up their eyes, “being in torment.” No pen can describe the overwhelming anguish of such a disappointment, and the imagination shrinks with amazement and torture from the contemplation of her own faint sketch of the insupportable scenes

To be led on by the power of delusion, so far as to commit an error of consequence to our temporal interests; to have impaired our health, our reputation, or our property; — is sufficiently painful, especially where there is no prospect, or but a faint one, of repairing the mischief: yet, in this case, religion opens a balm for the wounded spirit, and eternity presents a prospeetj where the sorrows of time will be forgotten. But, oh! to be in error on the nature of religion itself, and to build our hopes of immortality on the sand instead of the rock; to see the lamp of our deceitful profession, which had served to amuse us in life, and even to guide us in false peace through the dark valley of the shadow of death, suddenly extinguished as we cross the threshold of eternity, and leaving us amidst the darkness of rayless, endless night, instead of quietly expiring amidst the blaze of everlasting day! Is such a delusion possible? Has it ever happened in one solitary instance 1 Do the annals of the unseen world record one such case, and the prison of lost souls contain one miserable spirit that perished by delusion? Then what deep solicitude ouht the possibility of such an event to circulate through the hearts of all, to avoid the error of a self-deceived mind 1 Is it possible to be mistaken in our judgmejit of our state? — then how deeply anxious ought we all to feel, not to be misled by false criteria in forming our decision. But what if, instead of one case, millions should have occurred, of souls irrecoverably lost by self-deception 1 What if delusion should be the most crowded avenue to the bottomless pit? What if it should be the common infatuation, the epidemic blindness, which has fallen upon the multitudes of the inhabitants of Christendom ] What if this moral insanity should have infected and destroyed very many who have made even a stricter profession of religion than others? How shall we explain, much more justify, that want of anxiety about their everlasting welfare — that destitution of care to examine into the nature and evidences of true piety — that willingness to be imposed upon, in reference to eternity — which many exhibit ] Jesus Christ does tell us that many, in that day, shall say, “Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in thy name?” to whom he will say, “Depart from me, I never knew, you, ye workers of iniquity.” He says, that “MANY are called, but few chosen.” He says, that of the four classes of those who hear the word, only one hears it to advantage. He says, that of the ten virgins, to whom he likens the kingdom of heaven, five only were wise, while the other five were deceiving themselves with the unfed lamp of a deceitful profession. He intimates most plainly, that self-deception in religion is fearfully common — and common amongst those who make a more serious profession than others. It is he that has sounded the alarm to awaken slumbering professors of religion from their carnal security. It is he that hath said, “He that hath ears to hear, let him hear.” — “I know thy works, how that thou hast a name that thou livest and art dead.” How careful, then, ought we to be, not to be imposed upon by false evidences of religion, and not to conclude that we are Christians, while we are destitute of those things which the word of God declares to be essential to genuine piety. We must have love, therefore, or all else is insufficient.

1. Some conclude, that because they are regular in their attendance upon the services of religion, they are true Christians: they go punctually to church or to meeting — they receive the Lord’s Supper — they frequent the meetings for social prayer — they, perhaps, repeat prayers in secret, and read the Scriptures. All this is well, if it be done with right views, and in connexion with right dispositions: but it is the whole of their religion; a mere abstraction of devotional exercise; a thing separate and apart from the heart, and temper, and conduct; a business of the closet, and of the sanctuary; a sort of composition paid to the Almighty, to be released from all the other demands of Scripture and obligations of piety; an expression of their willingness to be devout in the church, and on the Sabbath, provided they may be as earthly-minded, as selfish, as malicious, and as unkind, as they please, in all places and all times besides. This is not religion.

2. Others are depending upon the clearness of their vieios, and their attainments in evangelical knowledge. They pretend to a singular zeal for the truth, and are great sticklers for the doctrines of grace, of which they profess to have an acquaintance little short of inspiration. They look upon all, besides a few of their own class, as mere babes in knowledge, or as individuals who, like the man in the Gospel, have their eyes only half opened, and who see, “men as trees walking.” They are the eagles who soar to the sun, and bask in his beams; while the rest of mankind are the moles that burrow, and the bats that flutter in the dark. Doctrine is everything; clear views of the Gospel are the great desideratum; and in their zeal for these things, they suppose they can never say things extravagant enough, nor absurd enough, nor angry enough, against good works, practical religion, or Christian temper. Puffed up with pride, selfish, unkind, irritable, censorious, malicious, — they manifest a total want of that hu-

5*- mility and kindness which are the prominent features of true Christianity. Clear views, even where they have no resemblance to the monstrous caricatures and frightful deformities of modern Antinomianism, are of themselves no evidence of religion, any more than right theoretical notions of the constitution are the proofs of loyalty; and as a man, with these notions in his mind, may be a traitor in his heart, so may a professor of religion be an enemy to God in his soul, with an evangelical creed upon his tongue. Many profess to be very fond of the lamp of truth, grasp it firmly in their hands, admire its flame, pity or blame those who are following the delusive and meteoric fires of error; but, after all, make no other use of it, than to illuminate the path that leads them to perdition: their religion begins and ends in adopting a form of sound words for their creed, approving an evangelical ministry, admiring the popular champions of the truth, and joining in the reprobation of fundamental error. As to any spirituality of mind, any heavenliness of affection, any Christian love — in short, as to any of the natural tendency, the appropriate energy, the vital elevating influence, of those very doctrines to which they profess to be attached — they are as destitute as the veriest worldling; and, like him, are perhaps selfish, revengeful, implacable, and unkind. This is a religion but too common in the present day, when evangelical sentiments are becoming increasingly popular; a religion but too common in our churches; a religion, cold, heartless, and uninfluential; a sort of lunar light, which reflects the beams of the sun, but not his warmth.

3. On the other hand, some are satisfied with the vividness and the molence of their feelings. Possessed of much excitability and warmth of temperament, they are, of course, susceptible of deep and powerful impression from the ordinances of religion. They are not without their religious joy, for even the stony ground hearers rejoiced for a while; and they are not without their religious sorrows. Their tears are plentiful, and their smiles m proportion. See them in the house of God, and none appear to feel more under the word than they. The sermon exerts a plastic power over their affections, and the preacher seems to have their hearts at command. They talk loudly of “happy frames,” “precious seasons,” “comfortable opportunities.” But follow them from the house of God to their own habitation, and, oh, how changed the scene! — the least offence, perhaps an unintentional one, raises a storm of passion, and the man that looked like a seraph in the sanctuary, seems more like a fury at home: follow them from the Sabbath into the days of the week; and you will see the man who appeared all for heaven on the Sunday, all for earth on the Monday: follow them from the assembly of the saints to the chief places of concourse, where they buy, and sell, and get gain; and you will see the man who looked so devout, irritated and litigious, selfish and overreaching, rude and insulting, envious and malicious, suspicious and defamatory. Yes; and perhaps in the evening of the same day, you will see him at a prayer meeting, enjoying, as he supposes, the holy season. Such is the delusion under which many are living. Their religion is, in great part, a mere susceptibility of impression from religious subjects; it is a selfish, religious voluptuousness.

It is certain, that more importance is oftentimes attached to “sensible enjoyment,” as it is called — to lively frames and feelings — than belongs to them. There is a great variety in the constitution of the human mind, not only as it respects the power of thinking, but also of feeling: some feel far more acutely than others; this is observable separate and apart from godliness. The grace of God in conversion, operates a moral, not a physical, change; it gives a new direction to the faculties, but leaves the faculties themselves as they were; consequently, with equal depth of conviction, and equal strength of principle, there will be various degrees of feeling, in different persons: the susceptibility of the mind to unpression, and its liability to vivid feeling, were there before conversion and they remain after it; and oftentimes the lively emotion produced by affecting scenes, or seasons, or sermons, is partly an operation of nature, and partly of grace. A man may feel but little, and yet, if that little lead him to do much, it is great piety notwithstanding. Of two persons who listen to an affecting tale, one is seen to weep profusely, and is overwhelmed by the story; the other is attentive and thoughtful, but neither weeps nor sobs. They retire: the former, perhaps, to wipe her tears, and to forget the misery which caused them; the latter to seek out the sufferer, and reheve him. Which had most feeling 1 The former. Which most benevolence ] The latter. The conduct of one was the result of nature, that of the other the effect of principle. Take another illustration, still more in point. Conceive of two real Christians listening to a sermon in which the preacher is discoursing from such a text as this — “Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another;” or this — “Ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye, through his poverty might be rich.” His object, as that of every man should be, who preaches from such a texiy is to show that a sense of divine love to us, should fill lis with benevolence towards others. In order to bring the heart to feel its obligations, he gives a vivid description of God’s love to man; and then, while his hearers are affected with God’s mercy he calls upon them, in imitation of Jehovah, to relieve those who are in want; to bear with those who are vexatious; to forgive those who have injured them; to lay aside their wrath, and abound in all the expressions of genuine affection to their fellow-christians. One of the individuals is deeply interested and affected by the first part of the discourse, sheds many tears, and is wrought up to a high pitch of feeling, while the preacher paints in glowing colours the love of God: the other hears with fixed attention, with genuine faith, the whole sermon, but his emotions are not powerful; he feels it is true, but it is tranquil feeling, unattended by either smiles or tears. They go home; the latter perhaps ill silence, the fonner exclaiming to his friends, “Oh, what a delightful sermon! what a precious season! did you ever hear the love of God so impressively, so beautifully, described ]” With all his feeling, however, he does not go forth to relieve one child of want, nor does he attempt to extinguish one angry or implacable feeling towards an individual who had offended hint He is as passionate and unforgiving, as unkind and selfish, after the sermon, as he was before he heard it. The other retires with more of calm reflection than of strong emotion. Hearken to his soliloquy: —” The preacher has given us a most astonishing idea of the love of God to us, and most clearly and affectingly deduced from it our obligations to love one another. Am / interested in

this love ] What! has this ineffable grace lavished all its benefits on me, a rebel against God, upon me a sinner? And shall / not feel this love constraining me to relieve the wants, to heal the sorrows, to forgive the offences, of my fellow-creatures 1 I will bear ill will no longer; I will put out the kindling spark of revenge; I will go in a spirit of meekness anxi of love, and forgive the offender, and be reconciled to my brother.” By that grace on which he depended, he is enabled to act up to his resolution. He becomes, upon principle, upon conviction, more merciful, more meek, more affectionate. Which has most feeling? The former. Which has most religion 1 The latter.

Any emotion, however pleasurable or intense, that does not lead to action, is mere natural, not holy, feeling: while that, however feeble it may seem, which leads us to do the will of God, is unfeigned piety. In order to ascertain our degree of religion, we must not merely ask, how we feel under sermons, but how this feeling leads us to act afterwards. The operative strength of our principles, and not the contemplative strength of our feelings, is the test of godliness. All that imaginative emotion, produced by a sense of God’s love to us, vihich does not lead to a cultivation of the virtue considered in this treatise, is one of the delusive fires, which, instead of guiding aright, misleads the souls of men.

4. It is to be feared that many, in the present day, satisfy themselves that they are Christians, because of their zeal in the cause of religion. Happily for the church of God, happily for the world at large, there is now a great and general eagerness for the diffusion of knowledge and piety. Throwing off the torpor of ages, the friends of Christ are labouring to extend his kingdom in every direction. Almost every possible object of Christian philanthropy is seized upon; societies are organized; means, adapted to every kind of instruments, are employed; the whole levy en masse of the religious world is called out; and Christendom presents an interesting scene of benevolent energy. Such a state of things, however, has its dangers in reference to personal religion, and may become an occasion of delusion to many. It does not require genuine piety to associate us with these movements: from a natural liberality of disposition, or regard to reputation, or a desire of influence, or by the compulsion of example, we may give our property; for all these motives are no doubt in partial operation, when giving is in fashion. And as to personal exertions, how many inducements may lead to this, besides a sincere and an ardent love to Christ; an inherent fondness for activity, a love of display, the spirit of party, the persuasion of friends, — may all operate, and unquestionably do operate, in many cases, to produce astonishing efforts in the cause of religious benevolence, where there is a total absence of genuine piety. The mind of man, prone to self-deception, and anxious to find some reasons to satisfy itself in reference to its eternal state, short of the true evidence of a renewed heart, is too apt to derive a false peace from the contemplation of its zeal. In proportion as the cause of the delusion approximates to the nature of true religion, is its power to blind and to mislead the judgment. If the mind can perceive anything in itself, or in its operations, which bears the semblance of godliness, it will convert it into a means of lulling the conscience and removing anxiety. This is to many persons the fatal opiate, the soul-destroying imposture — their activity in the cause of Christian zeal: none are more diligent in their devotedness to the duties of committees, none are more constant in their attendance upon public meetings; others, again, weary themselves in their weekly rounds to collect the contributions of the rich or the offerings of the poor. These things, if they do not lead them coolly to reason and to conclude that they are believers, take off their attention from the real condition of their souls, leave them no leisure for reflection, repress the rising fear, and either stifle the voice of conscience, or enable them to drown its remonstrances in the eloquence of the platform, or in the discussions of the committee-room. We doubt not that some unworthy professors of religion, in the present age, resort to public meetings for the same reason as many a guilty votary of pleasure does to public amusements — to forget his own condition, and to turn away his ear, for a short season, from the voice that speaks to him from within. Individuals are known to us all, who, amidst the greatest zeal for various public institutions, are living in malice and all uncharitableness, in the indulgence of a predominant selfishness, and uncontrolled wrath. But it will not do. This is not piety. Could we support the whole expenditure of the Missionary Society by our affluence, and direct its councils by our wisdom, and keep alive its energy by our ardour, and yet at the same time were destitute of love, — we should perish eternally, amidst the munificence of our liberality.

And of those who have the grace of love, and who are real believers, some are far more deficient in its influence and activity than they should be; and endeavour to quiet an accusing conscience with the wretched sophistry, “that as a Christian cannot be supposed to excel in every thing, their forte lies in the active virtues of religion more than in the passive graces; and that, therefore, any little deficiency in the latter is made up by their greater abundance of the former.” This reasoning is as false in its principle, as it is frequent, we fear, in its adoption. Where, in all the word of God, is this species of moral composition of duties taught or sanctioned ] This is really carrying the popish principle of indulgences into our own private concerns, and creating a surplus stock of one virtue to be available for the deficiencies of another.

It is to be apprehended, that as every age is marked with a peculiar tendency, either to some prevailing error or defect, the tendency of the present age is to exalt the active virtues of piety, at the expense of the passive ones; and, while the former are forced into an increasing luxuriance, to permit the latter to wither in their shade; or, at least, there is a disposition to devote all that time and attention to the culture of one which ought to be shared between both. It cannot be denied that our love of activity and of display will generally incline us to prefer the cultivation of public spirit, rather than the more private and self-denying tempers of meekness, humility, and forbearance; for it is inconceivably more easy, and more pleasant, to float upon the tide of public feeling towards the objects of religious zeal, than to wade against the stream of our own corrupt tendencies, and to accomplish an end which he only who seeth in secret will duly appreciate.

5. May it not be said, that in many cases a profession of religion seems to release individuals from all obligation to cultivate the dispositions which it necessarily implies; who, instead of deriving from this circumstance a stimulus to seek after the Christian temper, find in it a reason for general negligence?

They have been admitted as members of a church, and have thus received, as it were, a certificate of personal religion; and, instead of being anxious from that moment to excel in every virtue that can adorn the doctrine of God their Saviour, they sink into carelessness and lukewarmness. A profession of religion, unsupported by Christian love, will only increase our guilt here, and sink us immeasurably lower in the bottomless pit hereafter. Wo, eternal wo, will be upon that man who bears the name of our Lord Jesus without his image. Wo, eternal wo, will be upon those members of our churches, who are content to find their way into the fellowship of the faithful, without adding to their character the lustre of this sacred virtue.

Thus have we shown how many things there are, which, though good in themselves, when performetl from right motives and in connexion with other parts of religion, cannot, in the absence of love, be depended upon as unequivocal evidences of personal piety. Let us beware of self-deception in this awfully important business; for it will be dreadful beyond the power of imagination to conceive of, to find ourselves the next nioment after death, amidst the horrors of the infernal pit, instead of the fehcities of the celestial citv. Love is required by God, as an essential part of true religion; and the total absence of it as necessarily prevents a man from being a true Christian, as the want of temperance or purity. Besides, this is the temper of heaven; this is the unvarying state of mind in the innumerable company of angels, and the spirits of just men made perfect; this is the heart of Jesus, the mediator of the new covenant, and the image of God the Judge of all. Without this, there would be no meetness for the society of paradise, no fitness for an association of which the bond of fellowship is love; without this there can be no grace here, and, therefore, no dory hereafter. “^