The Cares of God
“If e caret h for you.” — 1 Pet. v. 7.
The old world looked upon Paradise as a place without care. It measured the majesty of the gods by their exemption from the cares of humanity. They dwelt on the top of Olympus, and rejoiced all the day in a sunshine whose cloudlessness was its carelessness — its absence of interest in the problems of human want, its recklessness of the fate of those who pine and suffer and die. But Christ opened the door of a new Paradise and let man see in. He gave to the human eye a totally different vision of the nature of Divine majesty. He showed that the majesty of God differed from the majesty of earthly kings not in having less, but in having more care. All earthly kingkood was defective by its inability to lift the whole burdens of a people; the government of the King of kings was supremely great because it could lift the burdens of all. That which distanced God from man was God’s greater power of drawing near to the souls of men. Man held aloof from his brother man, and he had made his gods in his own image; Christ revealed a new image of God, a new thought of the Divine. Christ’s majesty was the majesty of stooping; His cross was His crown. The sceptre which He wielded over humanity was the sceptre of love; because He was chief of all, He became the minister of all, because He was the ruler of all life, He gave His life a ransom for many.
My soul, hast thou emancipated thyself from that old epicurean dream? — the dream that thy greatness lies in thine independence. Is there nothing left in thee of that pagan ideal of a hero which tells men it is manly to be self-sufficient? Is there within thee still somewhat of the recklessness of that man who said: “Am I my brother’s keeper?” Thiukest thou that it is the badge of manliness to say, “I do not care?” It is not the badge of manliness; it is the mark of a child. Nothing can be manliness which is not godliness, and godliness is the presence of infinite care. Wouldst thou be like God? it is well, but thou wilt not reach thy goal in the manner of the first Adam in the garden. Adam wanted to know the difference of good and evil for the pride of it; he never thought of the care of it. He did not know that it is just this knowledge which constitutes the Divine burden — the longing for man’s salvation. Wouldst thou be like God? then thou must cease to be self-sufficient; thou must awake to the care for other souls; thou must learn what is meant when it is said, “God is love.” Love is joy — infinite joy, but it is not epicurean joy. It is not the joy of selfishness, but the joy of self-forgetfulness. The gladness of thy God is the gladness of him who bears the harvest home, the gladness that carries in its bosom the spoils conquered from the field of sin, “This my son was dead and is alive again, was lost and is found.” Wouldst thou reach the height of the human, wouldst thou attain the image of the Divine? enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.