Charity for Surmounted Things
Matthew xviii. 10 v. “Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones.”
It is not broad to despise the narrow. What do I mean by a man of large sympathies? “One who can advance,” yon say. Yes; but, I think, still more, one who can retreat. It is a very easy thing to extend towards to-morrow; it is a very hard thing to contract towards yesterday. Most of ns have an impulse to go on; few of us have a wish to go back. When Paul becomes a man he puts away childish toys; that is natural; that is right; but that is also simple. The arduous thing is to remember that the childish toys are not childish for children — that they are the very poems of the opening years. Do not break the child’s image. It is to him no graven image; it stands for a higher likeness than anything in heaven, or earth, or sea. Has he worshipped the golden calf instead of the thunders of Sinai? Yes; but it is not the gold he worships; it is the mystery. The toy was once as mysterious to you as is the thunder now. You wondered what was inside of it; you broke it open to see. Its gold was its mystery; its glory was its unseenness; its brightness was its veil. Judge it not by its discovered delusion. Judge it in the light of those who have not yet broken it open, and found emptiness within. “Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones.”
Christ of love, give me room in my heart for earth’s little ones. I have room for the heights, but not the vales, of humanity; let me descend with Thee into the vale. I have been despising those to whom Thou speakest in parables. Remind me that it is Thou who speakest in parables — that the crude image covers a faith Divine. Forbid that I should break the image either by logic or laughter. If even Thine angel-reapers feared to pluck up the wheat with the tares, much more may I. I cannot break the casket without destroying the gem. Let me touch the casket tenderly; it is the body of a soul — Thy soul. Let me vaunt not my powers of flight before the face of my walking brother; his walk is, like Enoch’s, a walk with Thee. Let me travel by his side along the dusty way.
Let me see with his eyes, feel with his heart, think with his mind. Let me speak to him through his own symbols. Let me appeal to him through his own experience. Let me tell him that beneath the forms his faith and mine are one — the same in substance, equal in power and glory. When I stand on the mount of Thy love, the height shall dissolve the difference between the great and the little ones.