Constraining Love

“The love of Christ constraineth us.” — 2 Cor. 5: 14.

DOES this mean the love of Christ for us, or our love for Christ? Evidently the love of Christ for us, though by implication our love for Christ. “We love Him because He first loved us.” Our love is kindled at the altar of Christ’s love. Our purpose in this discourse, however, is to study the word “constrain.” I believe in plenary inspiration, not in a mechanical theory. John wrote as John, Peter as Peter, Paul as Paul; the Holy Spirit not making them automatons or machines, but using their different personalities. When I am, convinced that a chapter or verse is not an interpolation, but contains the words that were written by inspired minds, then to me that

scripture is verbally inspired. God speaks not through sentences, paragraphs, or books, but through words. One word at least is inspired. “Not seeds, as of many,” said Paul, “but seed.” The Spirit was particular to give us the singular rather than the plural. Some words are like gold mines with a few nuggets on the surface — an index to the rich ores wThich lie beneath; and such is this wrord “constrain.” Let us dig into it.

The first thing we learn is:

I. Unity and Community.

It means primarily — binds its together. The love of Christ unites us. The love of country unites men. When the tocsin of wTar sounds, merchants, mechanics, lawyers, doctors, common laborers, rally to the flag, though many of them may speak different languages — French, German, Italian standing in the ranks side by side, moving as one man. They have a common purpose, born of a common love. The heterogeneous mass has been melted by the fires of patriotism, fused into the same mould. So the love of Christ binds men together, though they be far apart in channels of thought, in nationality, language, occupation. I defy any one to meditate an hour on the love of Christ for him, and then cherish in his heart hatred toward his neighbor.

As the result of this unity, there will be community. The early disciples had all things in common. It was brought about not by statute law, but by love. A conception of the love of Christ, as manifested in the sacrifice of Himself upon Calvary, had gotten hold of them, and His spirit of sacrifice showed itself in their yielding what they had for the supply of the community. Love begotten by the love of Christ abhors a vacuum. It seeks to fill the place of want and woe. But could such a state of affairs exist forever? If the same love reigned, it would be in active operation to-day.

II. Perplexity and Distress.

Paul said, “I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ; which is far better” (Phil. 1: 23). The word translated “in a strait” is this word “constrain,” Two forces were drawing Paul — heaven and earth; the desire to be at rest, and to toil on; his anxiety to be with Christ, and the obligation which he felt to remain and help his brethren.

So the love of Christ sometimes perplexes us; puts us “in a strait betwixt twro.” The love of parents may draw in one direction, while the love of Christ draws in another, and the result is great perplexity as to our duty. “When I would do good, evil is present with me.” My love for Christ makes me want to do good, while my fleshly nature inclines me to evil. Blessed perplexity this! Better to be perplexed by these two contending forces than that the evil should have it all its own way and leave us in the rest of a deadened conscience. And to perplexity there is often added distress. “I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how am I straitened until it be accomplished! “said Jesus.” Straitened “here is this word “constrained.’’ Before Christ was Gethsemane and Calvary, an immersion of suffering. His love for us drew Him toward it, while the shrinking of the flesh, as seen in the garden, drew Him from it. His love for us constrained Him, pressed Him toward

Calvary, until the suffering was over. So the love of Christ constrains us to accept whatever Calvary may be put in our way, whatever suffering for the good of others God may call upon us to endure.

III. Restraint.

“For the days shall come upon thee, that thine enemies shall cast a trench about thee, and compass thee round, and keep thee in on every side” (Luke 19:43).

The word translated “keep in” is this word “constrain.” The army of Titus had besieged Jerusalem, encompassing it, and holding the inhabitants within the walls. They could not sally forth; they were prisoners. And the love of Christ bears something of the relation to us that this besieging army of Titus bore toward the Jews. It keeps us from going out into doubtful indulgences, unrestrained passions — ways that God would not approve. We are under a blessed restraint; not of power, but of love. The mother is restrained from injuring her child, but it is a restraint which is joy, and the liberty of hurting her child would be painful to her. We are told in Luke 22:63, “The men that held Jesus mocked Him, and smote Him.” This word ‘’held” is the “constrain” of the text; the Roman soldiers held Him as a prisoner. Their object was to humiliate Him. The love of Christ, however, holds us as prisoners for the purpose of elevating, inspiring, and comforting us. A delightful condition, indeed, to be a prisoner of the love of Jesus Christ! The world is led captive by the Devil at his will; the Christian, by Jesus at His will: one hypnotized of evil; the other of good. The world is led by the sirens’ song toward destruction; the Christian is drawn by the angelic music of Christ’s love toward heaven.

And this encompassing, protecting power shuts out evil. The besieging army of Titus, while it kept the Jews within the walls, kept other enemies from approaching. The Roman soldiers kept others from the person of Christ. They would not deliver Him to the mob who howled for His blood. The same idea we find in Acts 7:57. Those who stoned Stephen “cried out with a loud voice, stopped their ears, and ran upon him with one accord,” The word translated “stopped” is this word “constrained.” They shut out the cries of the people, and made themselves deaf to everything that would keep them from accomplishing their purpose. And so the love of Christ shuts out the forces that would keep us from doing what He commands.

IV. Pressure.

Jesus is on His way to the house of Jairus. A great multitude crowd around Him and throng Him. He said, “Who touched Me?” The disciples replied, “The multitude throng Thee and press Thee, and sayest Thou, Who touched Me?” (Luke 8:45). This word “pressed” is the “constrain” of our text. How beautiful the thought! Love throngs and presses us like that multitude about our Lord.

There is the pressure of blessing. Political blessings crowd us. We have civil liberty. We may worship God as our conscience dictates. Persecution by thumb-screw and rack is forever gone. Social blessings press upon us. We have close about us many in sympathy with our hopes and aspirations, and who unite with us in work for God. Physical blessings; God gives us health. Literary blessings; we may fill our homes with good books. Gospel blessings; the Bible full of promises, and God’s providence full of love. Such a pressure of blessings the love of Christ causes to throng us.

But with this there is the pressure of obligation. We are told in Acts 18:5, “Paul was pressed in the spirit, and testified to the Jews that Jesus was the Christ. “The word translated l< pressed in spirit” is our friend “constrain.” It was the pressure of responsibility. Paul had the bread of life, and he felt that he ought to give it to others. He believed in Christ, and he was pressed to say so. Now this is a burden which we cannot cast upon others. God, even, wall not bear it. There are other burdens of sorrow, sin, and struggle that we may cast upon Him, and He will sustain us. There are burdens which we may share with each other, and we are commanded to bear one another’s burdens; but here “Let every one bear his own burden.” No man can do my duty for me. No one can take my place. No one can obey

God by proxy; and heavier than all other responsibilities of life is the responsibility of testifying, through character as well as words, for Christ.

During a naval battle, an English vessel had been swept by shot and shell. More than one half of the marines were dead or dying; their bodies covered the deck. Captain Haldane ordered the reserves to come up and take the places of the slain, and when they reached the deck and saw the bodies and blood of their slain companions, they were seized with a panic. The captain drew his sword, and rushing before them said,” Cowards that you are —

I wish you were in h!” An old Scotch

marine went quietly up to the captain, and saluting him, said, “I believe that God answers prayer, and if your prayer had been answered, where would we be?” After the battle the captain thought of the faithfulness of this old marine, who had been slain during the conflict. It led him to reflection, to prayer, to Christ. Captain Haldane became a preacher in the city of Edinburgh, and through his influence Robert Haldane, whose voice shook Geneva as he proclaimed the Gospel, was converted; all traceable back to the faithful testimony which the old Scotch marine bore to Christ in that critical hour. More weighty than the responsibility of fighting for his country; more weighty than submission to his superior; more weighty than the terror of the bloody scene before him was the responsibility of testifying for Christ. The love of Christ constrained to it.

A physician in Holland, once a Jew, now a Christian, became greatly interested in an old Jewish friend, wealthy and honored. He was so pressed in spirit that he determined to go over and have an hour’s talk with him one evening. When he arrived at the palatial residence of his friend, he found a party gathering; a number of the guests were there. He went in, shook hands with his friend, and told him that he had called upon an important mission; but it seemed inopportune, and he would wait until a more convenient season. The Jewish friend, his curiosity aroused, insisted that he should make his mission known. “Well, it was that we might talk together about the Messiah. I think I have found Him, and I want to tell you about Him.” “Why,” replied the wealthy old Jew, “I have been thinking about that of late myself, and was anxious to talk to somebody about it. Come in, and before the festivities begin you can talk to us all on the subject.” And the faithful witness stood before the company, and testified that Jesus was the Christ. The result was the conversion of his Jewish friend and some of the guests. The love of Christ pressed upon him the responsibility of saving others. “By all means,” said Paul, “save some.”

V. Enthusiasm.

In Luke 4:38 we read, “Simon’s wife’s mother was taken with a great fever.” That word “taken” is “constrained.” The fever had possession of her. The same word is used in Matthew 4: 24: “Taken with divers diseases and torments.” The love of Christ takes hold of me like a fever — like an incurable disease; like a demoniacal possession. Does not that imply something of fanaticism? Can we keep a cool head while we have a heart raging with such a fever of love? Better a thousand fold love at fever heat, love holding us like a demoniacal possession, than the cold iceberg, freezing state of dignified inactivity. “The people of the Gadarenes,” we are told, “were taken with great fear.” “Taken” is “constrained M again. Christ had cast out a devil sending the swine into the water. They were trembling in the presence of his power, so that they hardly knew what to do. They were held captives by their fear, as Simon’s wife’s mother was by fever. So we need to be held captives by the love of Christ, and keep at the point of warm enthusiasm in his service.