The Source of Christian Love
Ju?r God is my record how greatly I long after yoti all in the bozveh of Jesus Christ.’*’’ — Philippians i. 8.
PECULIAR tenderness breathes through this epistle. It glows all over with love. Other letters of Paul contain more of argument, of doctrine, of reproof; none so much of emotion flowing direct from heart to heart. Several circumstances conspired to impart to this letter its characteristic affection. His own position when he wrote it tended to soften and solemnize his spirit. He was at Rome, in the hands of a cruel despot. Already he was in prison, and he knew not the hour when he might be led forth to execution. The remembrance of his first visit to Philippi tended in the same direction. His work in that city was the first of his mission to Europe. He had endured great sufferings there, and also obtained great success. He had spent the night, bleeding from recent scourging, in the inner prison, with his limbs fixed in an instrument of torture. Yet from that prison he sang praise to God, and came forth to witness a mighty work of conversion among the heathen. Besides all this, the Christians at PhiHppi had shown him great kindness in his time of need. They had followed his footsteps in his missionary journeys, and repeatedly relieved his necessities. Now their messenger, Epaphroditus, had found him out in his prison in Rome, and liberally supplied his wants. (See chap. iv. 10-18.)
It is much to be lamented that gifts of temporal good to spiritual instructors have often become the occasion of jealousy and strife. These contributions are in themselves natural, and are clearly sanctioned in the Scriptures. They are not in their own nature evil; they might, indeed, become the channels of spiritual benefit. They might be blessed to those who give and those who receive. The pure heart and the single eye are needed on both sides ere these contributions can become pleasant and profitable. But what relation of life does not need the pure heart and the single eye.? When one gives and another receives spiritual things, and he who receives spiritual things contributes in turn of his temporal things, the intercourse is not necessarily carnal and secular. A’l things are yours when you are Christ’s. Elevated, and pure, and profitable was all the intercourse between the apostle of the Gentiles and these the first Christians in Europe that were converted through his ministry.
Money is God’s gift too. It may be given without a grudge, and accepted without degradation. If we ourselves are carnal, our handling of money will be carnal;
(512) 8 but such also will our handling of all other things be. “Unto them that are defiled and unbelieving is nothing pure; but to the pure all things are pure” (Titus i. 15).
It is worthy of notice, as we pass, that in this letter — written to acknowledge the receipt of contributions from the converts at Philippi — there is not a word about masses for the dead, or any other superstitions for which the popish priests receive pay. Paul never said a mass nor granted an indulgence. What is more, he never spoke or wrote a word against either of these corruptions; for this good reason, that he did not know them. They did not exist in his day, and he had not even a conception of their possibility. They did not once occur to his mind.
I. The witness of Paul’s tender regard for the Philippians. II. The source of it.
III. The character and strength of it.
I. TJie zvitness: “God is my witness.” — I do not say it is necessary or expedient to parade this appeal frequently or on trivial occasions. The expression of it should be reserved for seasons of peculiar solemnity. Paul, on the verge of martyrdom, not expecting to see these brethren again until he should meet them at the great white throne, desiring to give them the most solemn assurance of his regard, — an assurance that might be their consolation when he was gone, — takes the name of God, not in vain, but in reverent truth, into his lips, and confirms
THE SOURCE OF CHRIST/AN LOVE. 115
his testimony by his oath. It has been often remarked — and in the main the observation is just — that those who continually betake themselves to such an attestation in order to obtain belief are precisely the people who do not deserve to be believed, either with an oath or without it.
But though the parade of this witness should be spared, the inner consciousness of it should pervade all our intercourse, all our life: that God is witness of our words is a thing that should be very seldom on our lips, but should be always on our mind.
God is witness of all our affections toward all men. “There is not a thought upon my tongue, but, lo, O Lord, thou knowest it altogether. The darkness hideth not from thee.”
It is easy to deceive a fellow-man; and, alas! because it can be done, it is often done. There is no outward restraint to prevent false representation. It is left to conscience within; and conscience, when often trampled on, grows callous, and ceases to resent the injury. Many a man, who does not suspect himself of being a hypocrite, habitually represents himself as better than he is.
It is healthful to the soul to be constantly reminded of another onlooker. God is not mocked. To go about the business and intercourse of life under the sense of God’s presence, would cast out all the malice and envy from the heart, would banish all falsehood from the lips. He requireth truth in the inward parts. Give him what he demands. Keep the living God consciously near, the witness ii6 THE SOURCE OF CHRISTIAN LOVE.
of all your words and ways, did I say? It is easier said than done. This is precisely the company that most people shun. It is a law of nature that a man banishes from his presence and memory persons and objects that he does not like, until these persons and objects acquire an independent power, and force themselves under his notice whether he will or not. “How can two walk together, except they be agreed?” Here lies the secret. No man chooses the living God as his habitual company and witness unless he is reconciled unto God by the death of his Son. Hence peace with God, instead of lying at the further end of the Christian’s course, — at the goal which by a life of effort he may hope at last to reach, — lies at the very outset of the pilgrim’s path. This is the stile at the entrance. Not a step of advance can you make on the way of life without this. “Be ye reconciled unto God,” is the first appeal of the ambassador from heaven when he opens his commission among men.
Paul in his solitary prison at Rome refers to God as the witness of what took place, as he might have referred to Silas for corroboration of what happened that night in the jail at Philippi. “Acquaint now thyself with Him, and be at peace.” “Because he is at my right hand, I shall not be greatly moved.” God is this man’s witness — witness of his thoughts and emotions, night and day: this thought is a pleasure to him, and not a pain. It is because he loves this company that he keeps it. So lordly and kingly a creature is man that he succeeds generally in getting near those whom he loves, and keeping at a distance from those whom he loathes.
Brethren, what a blessed state to be in: would that we had reached it. To let all our affections and desires towards our brethren flow and reflow in the presence of the living God! To love and to dislike, to hope and to fear, to rejoice and to grieve, all in the light of his countenance!
All things are yours, and among them the holiness of God. One of the exclamations of a Christian is, “Our God is a consuming fire.” That fire is his property, and it works for his good — it consumes the filthiness out of him. As the mists of night are driven away by the rising sun, the face of God chases away malice and envy, so that they cannot harbour in the heart.
II. The source of his love for the bretJiren: “In the bowels of Jesus Christ.” — This form of expression occurs frequently in Scripture. Though strongly figurative, it is easily understood. It signifies strong compassion. Here it means the mercy, the tender thrilling pity, which the Lord Jesus felt, and feels, for his own in their need.
He longed after them in the compassion of Jesus Christ. From that fountain his own pity flowed. He was pitiful and tender because he was now in Christ Jesus, in whom pity and tenderness dwell with all the fulness of the Godhead. He was free to testify, “In me dwelleth no good thing;” — in me pity, compassionate love, had not its spring, its dwelling-place. True, Paul; for no pity flowed from your cruel heart, or dimmed your cruel ii8 THE SOURCE OF CHRISTIAN LOVE.
eye, when a gentle, loving nature suffered at your hand. When Stephen sank on his knees exhausted in body, and lifted up his eyes to heaven, strong in faith, there were no bowels and mercies moving in the iron breast of Saul; for Saul was not at that time in Christ — was not at that time a new creature. Although dew was falling out of heaven abundantly everywhere, that fleece had not caught a drop; and although the sight of Stephen’s martyrdom wrung it hard, not one drop came. Long before this time, however, the dew of heaven had filled the fleece; and having freely received, it freely gave out a very flood of strong compassion.
Paul is sketching from the memory of his former self when he paints the frightful picture of the unrenewed: “For we ourselves also were sometimes foolish, disobedient, deceived, serving divers lusts and pleasures, living in malice and envy, hateful, and hating one another” (Titus iii. 3). But when he was graffed into the true Vine, the life-sap from the Head flowed into the once withered branch — flowed through that once withered branch, the same that flowed in himself, the Vine.
A portion of the very love that glowed in the bosom of Jesus was communicated to his disciple. The affection towards the Philippians which was swelling now in the prisoner at Rome was a stream from the Fountain of love on high. According to his capacity and attainments — finite in measure and imperfect in kind, on account of defects in the earthen vessel — the love was still the love that glowed first in Christ:
It was not the love of mere nature, an instinct of the animal constitution. It was not the affection of party, or patriotism for those who were on his side or of his country.
His new position gave him a new view and new affections. He had risen with Christ, and was sitting with him in heavenly places. From that high place he looked abroad upon the world, and, lo, all old things had passed away — all things had become new. The old divisions between Jew and Gentile, Pharisee and Sadducee, had disappeared, and one line ran athwart the world, separating the human race into two compartments — those who were in Christ Jesus, and those who were not. Nor was even this line a divider between those whom he loved and those whom he did not love. He loved the whole; but a strange difference was perceptible between his regard for the brethren and his regard for those that were without. Over these he rejoices with a joy unspeakable and full of glory; for these his compassions flow.
Partakers of Christ, as far as their finite nature will permit, Christians partake also of his affections toward the Church on the one side, and the world on the other.
“The life that I now live in the flesh, it is not I that live, but Christ that liveth in me.” With Christ, like Christ, in Christ, a Christian weeps when he looks down on an unbelieving Jerusalem; rejoices in spirit, and thanks the Father, when the wisdom which philosophers cannot discover is revealed unto babes.
It is not enough to be near him; we must be found in him. Almost Christian does not love its neighbour, and win the world to God. The disciples were near their Master, and thought themselves zealous in his cause, when they suggested that fire should descend from heaven and consume a city for lack of hospitality toward themselves. That was not an emotion drawn from the bowels of Jesus Christ. He, in reply, said, “Ye know not what spirit ye are of” They knew not; but he knew. He did not recognize that thirst of vengeance as a grace of his Spirit. He did not say to them on that occasion, as he said to a humble, believing woman, “Who touched me 1 somebody hath touched me, for I perceive that virtue hath gone out of me.” That longing for fire to consume a neighbour did not go out of Jesus Christ.
This doctrine lies readily to hand for turning inward upon ourselves; and it is eminently searching: “Ye are not your own: ye are bought with a price.” These faculties of ours are talents which belong to the Lord. We are like the labourers keeping the vineyard for him. We have no right to permit any afi’ections to flow through these channels that Christ will repudiate.
HI. TJie measure and manner of the apostle’s fond desires after these Philippian Christians: “How greatly I long after you all.” — Already we have seen that he called God to witness regarding his desire after them. Learn from this that in order to get into communion with God it is not necessary to banish your brother out of sight. These two are not antagonists. The law is, that he who loveth God love his brother also. He is a jealous God to the effect of commanding, “Thou shalt have no other gods before me;” but even in his own sight you may cherish to the full all your love of the brethren. The sun, at his rising, extinguishes all the stars of heaven, but not the flowers of earth. so when you get into the presence of God none other is permitted to stand on a level with himself, but into his presence you may boldly bring all your brethren of human kind. In his presence you may keep every affection that is inherited by nature or ingrafted by grace.
Observe now the extent and the distribution of his affection — “I long after you all.” Probably they were not all alike attractive, either in person or character. If he had regarded them from a merely human and earthly view-point he would have held to some and despised others; but he had risen to heavenly places in Christ, and therefore his tenderness shone on them all. A lamp lighted on the top of a pillar casts light on some objects and a shadow on others, but the sun spreads day over all. The love that is grafted into Christ is universal, like his own. There is no respect of persons with God; and none with the godly, as far as they act in character.
“Long after you all.” The longing was one, as it burned in Paul’s heart; but it was many-coloured, doubtless, as it streamed upon a promiscuous congregation. Light is for all the same, but it becomes various as it falls on various surfaces. ‘’ Long after you all” — that longing, as it fell on one, would be a desire that he might be born; and on another, that he might grow in grace.
“You all.” The wiole assembly flitted before the apostle. When he shut his eyes at night, and slept not, ’ their faces would flit before him. One by one they came up, as well as in the great congregation.
1. Little childi’en. His longing was a stream led oft” the compassion of Jesus. It was of the same kind. It did not overlook or despise the little ones; it rather singled out the children, and paid special regard to their case. That peculiar desire, here called “longing after,” is more appropriate to infants than to others. In proportion as words are kept in, thoughts burn more keenly.
These helpless infants draw forth our longing more powerfully than grown people. In this respect Paul’s paradox holds good, “When I am weak, then am I strong.” In proportion to their weakness is the strength with which they draw you. This is the Lord’s doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes. This longing will send up many prayers for them now, and send out many warnings to them in coming years.
2. TJie young who are of understanding age. “Long after you.” You have need of a compassion like Christ’s. You must make your choice; and, alas! there are many things to cheat and entice you. You are floating on a stream. Its current sucks you down — insensibly, softly, but strongly down. If we stand on the bank and beckon and warn, we seem to you to be running quickly up, and
J 23
you wonder at our haste; whereas we are not running up, — it is you that are floating down.
We long after you, because you have fallen on an acre of levity. Grave, godly ways, are little known. Life in earnest is a thing of the past, or a rarity, if it appears at all.
If a living creature were carried up into the atmosphere above the tops of the highest mountains, he would still be in the atmosphere, and yet it would be difficult to live. There would be nothing to hurt him. All would be clear and pure, and yet he would be ill. He would be ill, and not know what ailed him. He would pant for breath, although around, beneath, above him there was nothing but air. He would gasp, and die, for want of breath in an ocean of air, — because the air was too thin.
Soul-breath seems light and thin in this particular age, in this stratum of human history. Although there is an immense activity and volume of thought, thought is so light that a human soul pines and starves on it. We long for young people, afloat on this atmosphere rarefied and cold. Oh, for the solid, strong, spiritual life that our forefathers lived! Prayer, reading, self-examination, communion with God, — all seem attenuated in our age. And I do long after the young who launch on life at this period, dreading their leanness, their leanness.
But God is the same, though the spirit of the age varies. God’s Word is grave, though human conversation be frivolous. Though the vain world is near, Jesus is nearer. “Whosoever will let him come.”
3. “After you all.” And among them the burdenedy crushed with cares. Oh, souls that cleave to the dust, there is much cause to long after you till you be quickened by the Spirit.
When gradually the soul has been cleaving, — the earth stealing marches on the soul and binding Samson while ’ he slept, — the cure will not come as the ailment came, by slow, imperceptible degrees. The emancipation will be sudden, or not at all. I suspect there is no gradual emancipation for these slaves. It must be by an insurrection, by a sudden blow. ‘’ I will arise, and go to my Father.”
4. We long after the aged, that they may have freshness of faith and love; — that their spirit may be like a little child, although the flesh refuses to come again so plump and tender; although the wrinkles will not out of the brow, that the twists may all be taken out of the spirit; and that they may in due time have an abundant entrance into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.
Longing after all, that the fruits of righteousness may abound, the backslidings be healed, the goings be established, and the glad new song be raised.
God is witness of all these longings; for as surely as they spring in a believer’s heart they issue in two directions at once — upward to the Throne, and outward on the brethren; as a spring of water issuing from warm depths at once sends incense up to heaven and a stream along the ground.