THE GREATEST THING IN THE WORLD IS LOVE
Henry Drummond 1884
www.sermonindex.net
has over 20,000 TEXT sermons and
articles and 15,000 AUDIO sermons and 25,000 VIDEO clips.
“THOUGH I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and
have not love, I am become as a sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. 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 LOVE I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the
poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and
have not Love, it profiteth me nothing.
Love suffereth long, and is kind;
Love envieth not;
Love vaunteth not itself is not puffed up,
Doth not behave itself unseemly,
Seeketh not her own,
Is not easily provoked,
Thinketh no evil;
Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;
Beareth all things,
believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
“Love never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they
shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be
knowledge, it shall vanish away. For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.
But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done
away. When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought
as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see
through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then
shall I know even as also I am known. And now abideth faith, hope, Love, these
three; but the greatest of these is Love”
(1 Corinthians 13 KJV).
EVERY one has asked himself the great question of antiquity as of the modern
world: What is the summum bonum---the supreme good? You have life before
you. Once only you can live it. What is the noblest object of desire, the
supreme gift to covet?
We have been accustomed to be told that the greatest thing in the religious
world is Faith. That great word has been the key-note for centuries of the
popular religion; and we have easily learned to look upon it as the greatest
thing in the world. Well, we are wrong. If we have been told that, we may miss
the mark. I have taken you, in the chapter which I have just read, to
Christianity at its source; and there we have seen, "The greatest of these is
love." It is not an oversight. Paul was speaking of faith just a moment
before. He says, "If I have all faith, so that I can remove mountains, and have
not love, I am nothing. "So far from forgetting, he deliberately contrasts them,
"Now abideth Faith, Hope, Love," and without a moment's hesitation, the decision
falls, "The greatest of these is Love."
And it is not prejudice. A man is apt to recommend to others his own
strong point. Love was not Paul's strong point. The observing student can
detect a beautiful tenderness growing and ripening all through his character as
Paul gets old; but the hand that wrote, "The greatest of these is love," when we
meet it first, is stained with blood.
Nor is this letter to the Corinthians peculiar in singling out love as the
summum bonum. The masterpieces of Christianity are agreed about it. Peter
says, "Above all things have fervent love among yourselves." Above all things.
And John goes farther, "God is love." And you remember the profound remark which
Paul makes elsewhere, "Love is the fulfilling of the law." Did you ever
think what he meant by that? In those days men were working their passage to
Heaven by keeping the Ten Commandments, and the hundred and ten other
commandments which they had manufactured out of them. Christ said, I will show
you a more simple way. If you do one thing, you will do these hundred and ten
things, without ever thinking about them. If you love, you will unconsciously
fulfil the whole law.
And
you can readily see for yourselves how that must be so. Take any of the
commandments. "Thou shalt have no other gods before Me." If a man love God, you
will not require to tell him that. Love is the fulfilling of that law. "Take not
His name in vain." Would he ever dream of taking His name in vain if he loved
Him? "Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy." Would he not be too glad to
have one day in seven to dedicate more exclusively to the object of his
affection? Love would fulfil all these laws regarding God. And so, if he loved
Man, you would never think of telling him to honour his father and mother. He
could not do anything else. It would be preposterous to tell him not to kill.
You could only insult him if you suggested that he should not steal---how could
he steal from those he loved? It would be superfluous to beg him not to bear
false witness against his neighbour. If he loved him it would be the last thing
he would do. And you would never dream of urging him not to covet what his
neighbours had. He would rather they possessed it than himself. In this way
"Love is the fulfilling of the law." It is the rule for fulfilling all rules,
the new commandment for keeping all the old commandments, Christ's one secret of
the Christian life.
Now Paul had learned that; and in this noble eulogy he has given us the most
wonderful and original account extant of the summum bonum. We may divide
it into three parts. In the beginning of the short chapter, we have Love
contrasted; in the heart of it, we have Love analysed; towards the end we have
Love defended as the supreme gift.
THE CONTRAST
PAUL begins by contrasting Love with other things that men in those days thought
much of. I shall not attempt to go over those things in detail. Their
inferiority is already obvious.
He contrasts it with eloquence. And what a noble gift it is, the
power of playing upon the souls and wills of men, and rousing them to lofty
purposes and holy deeds. Paul says, "If I speak with the tongues of men and of
angels, and have not love, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal."
And we all know why. We have all felt the brazenness of words without
emotion, the hollowness, the unaccountable, unpersuasiveness, of eloquence
behind which lies no Love.
He contrasts it with prophecy. He contrasts it with
mysteries. He contrasts it with faith. He contrasts it with
charity. Why is Love greater than faith? Because the end is greater than
the means. And why is it greater than charity? Because the whole is greater than
the part.
Love is greater than faith, because the end is greater than the means.
What is the use of having faith? It is to connect the soul with God. And what is
the object of connecting man with God? That he may become like God. But God is
Love. Hence Faith, the means, is in order to Love, the end. Love, therefore,
obviously is greater than faith. It is greater than charity, again, because the
whole is greater than a part. Charity is only a little bit of Love, one of
the innumerable avenues of Love, and there may even be, and there is, a great
deal of charity without Love. It is a very easy thing to toss a copper to
a beggar on the street; it is generally an easier thing than not to do it.
Yet Love is just as often in the withholding. We purchase relief from the
sympathetic feelings roused by the spectacle of misery, at the copper's cost. It
is too cheap---too cheap for us, and often too dear for the beggar. If we really
loved him we would either do more for him, or less.
Then Paul contrasts it with sacrifice and martyrdom. And I
beg the little band of would-be missionaries and I have the honour to call some
of you by this name for the first time---to remember that though you give your
bodies to be burned, and have not Love, it profits nothing---nothing! You can
take nothing greater to the heathen world than the impress and reflection of the
Love of God upon your own character. That is the universal language. It will
take you years to speak in Chinese, or in the dialects of India. From the day
you land, that language of Love, understood by all, will be pouring forth its
unconscious eloquence. It is the man who is the missionary, it is not his
words. His character is his message. In the heart of Africa, among the great
Lakes, I have come across black men and women who remembered the only white man
they ever saw before---David Livingstone; and as you cross his footsteps in that
dark continent, men's faces light up as they speak of the kind Doctor who passed
there years ago. They could not understand him; but they felt the Love that beat
in his heart.
Take
into your new sphere of labour, where you also mean to lay down your life, that
simple love, and your lifework must succeed. You can take nothing greater, you
need take nothing less. It is not worth while going if you take anything less.
You may take every accomplishment; you may be braced for every sacrifice; but if
you give your body to be burned, and have not Love, it will profit you and the
cause of Christ nothing.
THE ANALYSIS
AFTER contrasting Love with these things, Paul, in three verses, very short,
gives us an amazing analysis of what this supreme thing is. I ask you to look at
it. It is a compound thing, he tells us. It is like light. As you have seen a
man of science take a beam of light and pass it through a crystal prism, as you
have seen it come out on the other side of the prism broken up into its
component colours---red, and blue, and yellow, and violet, and orange, and all
the colours of the rainbow---so Paul passes this thing, Love, through the
magnificent prism of his inspired intellect, and it comes out on the other side
broken up into its elements. And in these few words we have what one might
call the Spectrum of Love, the analysis of Love. Will you observe what its
elements are? Will you notice that they have common names; that they are
virtues which we hear about every day; that they are things which can be
practised by every man in every place in life;
and how, by a multitude of small things and ordinary virtues, the supreme thing,
the summum bonum, is made up?
The Spectrum of Love has nine ingredients:--
Patience . . . . ."Love suffereth long."
Kindness . . . . ."And is kind."
Generosity . . . ."Love envieth not."
Humility . . . . ."Love vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up."
Courtesy . . . . ."Doth not behave itself unseemly."
Unselfishness . . "Seeketh not her own."
Good Temper . . . "Is not easily provoked."
Guilelessness . . ."Thinketh no evil."
Sincerity . . . . ."Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but
rejoiceth in the truth."
Patience; kindness; generosity; humility; courtesy; unselfishness; good temper; guilelessness; sincerity---these make up the supreme gift, the stature of the perfect man.
You will observe that all are in relation to men, in relation to life, in
relation to the known today and the near tomorrow, and not to the unknown
eternity. We
hear much of love to God; Christ spoke much of love to man. We make a great deal
of peace with heaven; Christ made much of peace on earth. Religion is not
a strange or added thing, but the inspiration of the secular life, the breathing
of an eternal spirit through this temporal world. The supreme thing, in short,
is not a thing at all, but the giving of a further finish to the multitudinous
words and acts which make up the sum of every common day.
There is no time to do more than make a passing note upon each of these
ingredients.
Love is Patience.
This is the normal attitude of Love; Love passive, Love waiting to begin; not
in a hurry; calm; ready to do its work when the summons comes, but meantime
wearing the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit. Love suffers long; beareth all
things; believeth all things; hopeth all things. For Love understands, and
therefore waits.
Kindness. Love active. Have you ever noticed how much of Christ's
life was spent in doing kind things---in merely doing kind things? Run
over it with that in view and you will find that He spent a great proportion
of His time simply in making people happy, in doing good turns to people.
There is only one thing greater than happiness in the world, and that is
holiness; and it is not in our keeping; but what God has put in our power is
the happiness of those about us, and that
is largely to be secured by our being kind to them.
"The greatest thing," says someone, "a man can do for his Heavenly Father is to
be kind to some of His other children." I wonder why it is that we are not
all kinder than we are? How much the world needs it. How easily it is done. How
instantaneously it acts. How infallibly it is remembered. How superabundantly it
pays itself back---for there is no debtor in the world so honourable, so
superbly honourable, as Love. "Love never faileth". Love is success, Love is
happiness, Love is life. "Love, I say, "with Browning, "is energy of Life."
"For life, with all it yields of joy and woe
And hope and fear,
Is just our chance o' the prize of learning love-—-
How love might be, hath
been indeed, and is."
Where Love is, God is. He that dwelleth in Love dwelleth in God. God is love.
Therefore love. Without distinction, without calculation, without
procrastination, love. Lavish it upon the poor, where it is very easy;
especially upon the rich, who often need it most; most of all upon our equals,
where it is very difficult, and for whom perhaps we each do least of all.
There is a difference between trying to please and giving pleasure. Give
pleasure. Lose no chance of giving
pleasure, for that is the ceaseless and anonymous triumph of a truly loving
spirit. "I shall pass through this world but once. Any good thing therefore that
I can do, or any kindness that I can show to any human being, let me do it now.
Let me not defer it or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again."
Generosity. "Love envieth not" This is Love in competition with others.
Whenever you attempt a good work you will find other men doing the same kind of
work, and probably doing it better. Envy them not. Envy is a feeling of
ill-will to those who are in the same line as ourselves, a spirit of
covetousness and detraction. How little Christian work even is a
protection against un-Christian feeling. Envy, that most despicable of
all the unworthy moods which cloud a Christian's soul assuredly waits for
us on the threshold of every work, unless we are fortified with this grace of
magnanimity. Only one thing truly need the Christian envy, the large, rich,
generous soul which "envieth not."
And then, after having learned all that, you have to learn this further thing,
Humility---to put a seal upon your lips and forget what you have done.
After you have been kind, after Love has stolen forth into the world and done
its beautiful work, go back into the shade again and say nothing about it Love
hides even from itself. Love waives even self-satisfaction. "Love
vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up."
The fifth ingredient is a somewhat strange one to find in this summum bonum:
Courtesy. This is Love in society, Love in relation to etiquette.
"Love doth not behave itself unseemly." Politeness has been defined as love
in trifles. Courtesy is said to be love in little things. And the one secret
of politeness is to love. Love cannot behave itself unseemly. You can put the
most untutored person into the
highest society, and if they have a reservoir of love in their heart, they will
not behave themselves unseemly. They simply cannot do it. Carlyle said of
Robert Burns that there was no truer gentleman in Europe than the
ploughman-poet. It was because he loved everything---the mouse, and the daisy,
and all the things, great and small, that God had made. So with this simple
passport he could mingle with any society, and enter courts and palaces from his
little cottage on the banks of the Ayr.
You
know the meaning of the word "gentleman." It means a gentle man---a man who
does things gently, with love. And that is the whole art and mystery of it.
The gentleman cannot in the nature of things do an ungentle, an ungentlemanly
thing. The ungentle soul, the inconsiderate, unsympathetic nature cannot do
anything else. "Love doth not behave itself unseemly."
Unselfishness. "Love seeketh not her own." Observe: Seeketh not even that
which is her own. In Britain the Englishman is devoted, and rightly, to his
rights. But there come times when a man may exercise even the higher right of
giving up his rights. Yet Paul does not summon us to give up our rights. Love
strikes much deeper. It would have us not seek them at all, ignore them,
eliminate the personal element altogether from our calculations.
It is not hard to give up our rights. They are often external. The difficult thing is to give up ourselves. The more difficult thing still is not to seek things for ourselves at all. After we have sought them, bought them, won them, deserved them, we have taken the cream off them for ourselves already. Little cross then, perhaps, to give them up. But not to seek them, to look every man not on his own things, but on the things of others---that is the difficulty. "Seekest thou great things for thyself?" said the prophet; "seek them not." Why? Because there is no greatness in things. Things cannot be great. The only greatness is unselfish love. Even self-denial in itself is nothing, is almost a mistake. Only a great purpose or a mightier love can justify the waste.
It
is more difficult, I have said, not to seek our own at all, than, having sought
it, to give it up. I must take that back. It is only true of a partly selfish
heart. Nothing is a hardship to Love, and nothing is hard. I believe that
Christ's yoke is easy. Christ's "yoke" is just His way of taking life. And I
believe it is an easier way than any other. I believe it is a happier way than
any other. The most obvious lesson in Christ's teaching is that there is no
happiness in having and getting anything, but only in giving. I repeat, there is
no happiness in having or in getting, but only in giving. And half the world
is on the wrong scent in the pursuit of happiness. They think it consists in
having and getting, and in being served by others. It consists in giving, and in
serving others. He that would be great
among you, said Christ, let him serve. He that would be happy, let him
remember that there is but one way---it is more blessed, it is more happy, to
give than to receive.
The next ingredient is a very remarkable one: Good Temper. "Love is not
easily provoked." Nothing could be more striking than to find this here.
We
are inclined to look upon bad temper as a very harmless weakness. We speak of it
as a mere infirmity of nature, a family failing, a matter of temperament, not a
thing to take into very serious account in estimating a man's character. And yet
here, right in the heart of this analysis of love, it finds a place; and the
Bible again and again returns to condemn it as one of the most destructive
elements in human nature.
The peculiarity of ill temper is that it is the vice of the virtuous. It
is often the one blot on an otherwise noble character. You know men who are
all but perfect, and women who would be entirely perfect, but for an easily
ruffled, quick-tempered, or "touchy" disposition. This compatibility of ill
temper with high moral character is one of the
strangest and saddest problems of ethics.
The truth is there are two great classes of sins---sins of the Body, and sins of the Disposition. The Prodigal Son may be taken as a type of the first, the Elder Brother of the second. Now society has no doubt whatever as to which of these is the worse. Its brand falls, without a challenge, upon the Prodigal. But are we right? We have no balance to weigh one another's sins, and coarser and finer are but human words; but faults in the higher nature may be less venial than those in the lower, and to the eye of Him who is Love, a sin against Love may seem a hundred times more base. No form of vice, not worldliness, not greed of gold, not drunkenness itself, does more to unChristianise society than evil temper. For embittering life, for breaking up communities, for destroying the most sacred relationships, for devastating homes, for withering up men and women, for taking the bloom off childhood; in short, for sheer gratuitous misery-producing power, this influence stands alone.
Look
at the Elder Brother, moral, hard-working, patient, dutiful---let him get all
credit for his virtues---look at this man, this baby, sulking outside his own
father's door. "He was angry," we read, "and would not go in." Look at the
effect upon the father, upon the servants, upon the happiness of the guests.
Judge of the effect upon the Prodigal---and how many prodigals are kept out of
the Kingdom of God by the unlovely characters of those who profess to be inside?
Analyse, as a study in Temper, the thunder-cloud itself as it gathers
upon the Elder Brother's brow. What is it made of? Jealousy, anger, pride,
uncharity, cruelty, self-righteousness, touchiness, doggedness,
sullenness---these are the ingredients of this dark and loveless soul. In
varying proportions, also, these are the ingredients of all ill
temper. Judge if such sins of the disposition are not worse to live in,
and for others to live with, than sins of the body. Did Christ indeed not
answer the question Himself when He said, "I say unto you, that the publicans
and the harlots go into the Kingdom of Heaven before you." There is really no
place in Heaven for a disposition like this. A man with such a mood could only
make Heaven miserable for all the people in it. Except, therefore, such a man be
born again, he cannot, he simply cannot, enter the Kingdom of Heaven. For it is
perfectly certain---and you will not misunderstand me---that to enter Heaven a
man must take it with him.
You will see then why Temper is significant. It is not in what it is
alone, but in what it reveals. This is why I take the liberty now of speaking of
it with such unusual plainness. It is a test for love, a symptom, a
revelation of an unloving nature at bottom. It is the intermittent fever which
bespeaks unintermittent disease within; the occasional bubble escaping to the
surface which betrays some rottenness underneath; a sample of the most hidden
products of the
soul dropped involuntarily when off one's guard; in a word, the lightning form
of a hundred hideous and unChristian sins. For a want of patience, a want of
kindness, a want of generosity, a want of courtesy, a want of unselfishness, are
all instantaneously symbolised in one flash of Temper.
Hence it is not enough to deal with the temper. We must go to the source, and
change the inmost nature, and the angry humours will die away of themselves.
Souls are made sweet not by taking the acid fluids out, but by putting something
in---a great Love, a new Spirit, the Spirit of Christ. Christ, the Spirit of
Christ, interpenetrating ours, sweetens, purifies, transforms all. This only can
eradicate what is wrong, work a chemical change, renovate and regenerate, and
rehabilitate the inner man. Will-power does not change men. Time does
not change men. Christ does. Therefore "Let that mind be in you which was
also in Christ Jesus."
Some
of us have not much time to lose. Remember, once more, that this is a matter of
life or death. I cannot help speaking urgently, for myself, for yourselves.
"Whoso shall offend one of these little ones, which believe in me, it were
better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were
drowned in the depth of the sea." That is to say, it is the deliberate
verdict of the Lord Jesus that it is better not to live than not to love.
It is better not to live than not to love.
Guilelessness and Sincerity may be dismissed almost with a word.
Guilelessness is the grace for suspicious people. And the possession of it is
the great secret of personal influence. You will find, if you think for a
moment, that the people who influence you are people who believe in you.
In an atmosphere of suspicion men shrivel up; but in that atmosphere they
expand, and find encouragement and educative
fellowship.
It
is a wonderful thing that here and there in this hard, uncharitable world there
should still be left a few rare souls who think no evil. This is the great
unworldliness. Love "thinketh no evil," imputes no motive, sees the bright
side, puts the best construction on every action. What a delightful state of
mind to live in! What a stimulus and benediction even to meet with it for a day!
To be trusted is to be saved. And if we try to influence or elevate others, we
shall soon see that success is in proportion to their belief of our belief in
them. For the respect of another is the first restoration of the
self-respect a man has lost; our ideal of what he is becomes to him the hope and
pattern of what he may become.
"Love rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth." I have called this
Sincerity from the words rendered in the Authorised Version by "rejoiceth
in the truth." And, certainly, were this the real translation, nothing could be
more just. For he who loves will love Truth not less than men. He will
rejoice in the Truth---rejoice not in what he has been taught to believe; not in
this Church's doctrine or in that; not in this ism or in that ism; but "in the
Truth." He will accept only what is real; he will strive to get at
facts; he will search for Truth with a humble and unbiased mind, and cherish
whatever he finds at any sacrifice. But the more literal translation of the
Revised Version calls for just such a sacrifice for truth's sake here. For what
Paul really meant is, as we there read, "Rejoiceth not in unrighteousness, but rejoiceth with the truth," a quality which probably no one English word---and
certainly not
Sincerity---adequately defines. It includes, perhaps more strictly, the
self-restraint which refuses to make capital out of others' faults; the charity
which delights not in exposing the weakness of others, but "covereth all
things"; the sincerity of purpose which endeavours to see things as they are,
and rejoices to find them better than suspicion feared or calumny denounced.
So much for the analysis of Love. Now the business of our lives is to have
these things fitted into our characters. That is the supreme work to which we
need to address ourselves in this world, to learn Love. Is life not full
of opportunities for learning Love? Every man and woman every day has a thousand
of them. The world is not a play-ground; it is a schoolroom. Life is not a
holiday, but an education. And the one eternal lesson for us all is how we
can love better.
What makes a man a good cricketer? Practice. What makes a man a good artist, a
good sculptor, a good musician? Practice.
What makes a man a good linguist, a good stenographer? Practice. What makes a
man a good man? Practice. Nothing else. There is nothing capricious about
religion. We do not get the soul in different ways, under different laws, from
those in which we get the body and the mind. If a man does not exercise his
arm he develops no biceps muscle; and if a man does not exercise his soul, he
acquires no muscle in his soul, no strength of character, no vigour of moral
fibre, nor beauty of spiritual growth. Love is not a thing of enthusiastic
emotion. It is a rich, strong, manly, vigorous expression of the whole round
Christian character---the Christlike nature in its fullest development. And the
constituents of this great character are only to be built up by ceaseless
practice.
What was Christ doing in the carpenter's shop? Practising. Though perfect, we
read that He learned obedience, He increased in wisdom and in favour with God
and man. Do not quarrel therefore with your lot in life. Do not complain of its
never-ceasing cares, its petty environment, the vexations you have to stand, the
small and sordid souls you have to live and work with. Above all, do not resent
temptation; do not be perplexed because it seems to thicken round you more and
more, and ceases neither for effort nor for agony nor prayer. That is the
practice which God appoints you; and it is having its work in making you
patient, and humble, and generous, and unselfish, and kind, and courteous. Do
not grudge the hand that is moulding the still too shapeless image within you.
It is growing more beautiful though
you see it not, and every touch of temptation may add to its
perfection. Therefore keep in the midst of life. Do not isolate yourself. Be
among men, and among things, and among troubles, and difficulties, and
obstacles. You remember Goethe's words: Es bildet ein Talent sich in der
Stille, Doch ein Character in dem Strom der Welt. "Talent develops itself in
solitude; character in the stream of life." Talent develops itself in
solitude---the talent of prayer, of
faith, of meditation, of seeing the unseen; Character grows in the stream of the
world's life. That chiefly is where men are to learn love.
How? Now, how? To make it easier, I have named a few of the elements of love.
But these are only elements. Love itself can never be defined. Light is a
something more than the sum of its ingredients---a glowing, dazzling, tremulous
ether. And love is something more than all its elements---a palpitating,
quivering, sensitive, living thing. By synthesis of all the colours, men can
make whiteness, they cannot
make light. By synthesis of all the virtues, men can make virtue, they cannot
make love. How then are we to have this transcendent living whole conveyed into
our souls? We brace our wills to secure it. We try to copy those who have it. We
lay down rules about it. We watch. We pray. But these things alone will not
bring Love into our nature. Love is an effect. And only as we fulfil the right
condition can we have the effect produced. Shall I tell you what the cause is?
If you turn to the Revised Version of the First Epistle of John you will find
these words: "We love, because He first loved us." "We love," not "We love Him"
That is the way the old Version has it, and it is quite wrong. "We
love---because He first loved us." Look at that word "because." It is the cause
of which I have spoken. "Because He first loved us," the effect follows that
we love, we love Him, we love all men. We cannot help it. Because He loved us,
we love, we love
everybody. Our heart is slowly changed.
Contemplate the love of Christ, and you will love. Stand before that mirror, reflect Christ's character, and you will be changed into the same image from tenderness to tenderness. There is no other way. You cannot love to order. You can only look at the lovely object, and fall in love with it, and grow into likeness to it. And so look at this Perfect Character, this Perfect Life. Look at the great Sacrifice as He laid down Himself, all through life, and upon the Cross of Calvary; and you must love Him. And loving Him, you must become like Him. Love begets love. It is a process of induction. Put a piece of iron in the presence of a magnetised body, and that piece of iron for a time becomes magnetised. It is charged with an attractive force in the mere presence of the original force, and as long as you leave the two side by side, they are both magnets alike. Remain side by side with Him who loved us, and gave Himself for us, and you too will become a centre of power, a permanently attractive force; and like Him you will draw all men unto you, like Him you will be drawn unto all men. That is the inevitable effect of Love. Any man who fulfils that cause must have that effect produced in him.
Try to give up the idea that religion comes to us by chance, or by mystery, or by caprice. It comes to us by natural law, or by supernatural law, for all law is Divine.
Edward Irving went to see a dying boy once, and when he entered the room he just
put his hand on the sufferer's head, and said, "My boy, God loves you," and went
away. And the boy started from his bed, and called out to the people in the
house, "God loves me! God loves me!" It changed that boy. The sense that God
loved him overpowered him, melted him down, and began the creating of a new
heart in him. And that is how the love of God melts down the unlovely heart in
man, and begets in him the new creature, who is patient and humble and gentle
and unselfish. And there is no other way to get it. There is no mystery about
it. We love others, we love everybody, we love our enemies, because He first
loved us.
THE DEFENCE
Now I have a closing sentence or two to add about Paul's reason for singling out
love as the supreme possession. It is a very remarkable reason. In a single word
it is this: it lasts. "Love," urges Paul, "never faileth." Then he begins again
one of his marvellous lists of the great things of the day, and exposes them one
by one. He runs over the things that men thought were going to last, and
shows that they
are all fleeting, temporary, passing away.
"Whether there be prophecies, they shall fail" It was the mother's
ambition for her boy in those days that he should become a prophet. For hundreds
of years God had never spoken by means of any prophet, and at that time the
prophet was greater than the king. Men waited wistfully for another messenger to
come, and hung upon his lips when he appeared as upon the very voice of God.
Paul says, "Whether there be prophecies, they shall fail" This Book is full of
prophecies. One by one they have "failed"; that is, having been fulfilled their
work is finished; they have nothing more to do now in the world except to feed a
devout man's faith.
Then Paul talks about tongues. That was another thing that was
greatly coveted. "Whether there be tongues, they shall cease." As we all know,
many, many centuries have passed since tongues have been known in this world.
They have ceased. Take it in any sense you like. Take it, for
illustration merely, as languages in general---a sense which was not in Paul's
mind at all, and which though it cannot give us the specific lesson will point
the general truth. Consider the words in which these chapters were
written---Greek. It has gone. Take the Latin---the other great tongue of those
days. It ceased long ago. Look at the Indian
language. It is ceasing. The language of Wales, of Ireland, of the Scottish
Highlands is dying before our eyes. The most popular book in the English tongue
at the present time, except the Bible, is one of Dickens's works, his Pickwick
Papers. It is largely written in the language of London street-life; and experts
assure us that in fifty years it will be unintelligible to the average English
reader.
Then Paul goes farther, and with even greater boldness adds, "Whether there be
knowledge, it shall vanish away." The wisdom of the ancients,
where is it? It is wholly gone. A schoolboy today knows more than Sir Isaac
Newton knew. His knowledge has vanished away. You put yesterday's newspaper in
the fire. Its knowledge has vanished away. You buy the old editions of the great
encyclopaedias for a few pence. Their knowledge has vanished away. Look how the
coach has been
superseded by the use of steam. Look how electricity has superseded that, and
swept a hundred almost new inventions into oblivion. One of the greatest living
authorities, Sir William Thomson, said the other day, "The steam-engine is
passing away." "Whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away." At every
workshop you will see, in the back yard, a heap of old iron, a few wheels, a few
levers, a few cranks,
broken and eaten with rust. Twenty years ago that was the pride of the city. Men
flocked in from the country to see the great invention; now it is superseded,
its day is done. And all the boasted science and philosophy of this day will
soon be old. But yesterday, in the University of Edinburgh, the greatest figure
in the faculty was Sir James Simpson, the discoverer of chloroform. The other
day his successor and nephew, Professor Simpson, was asked by the librarian of
the University to go to the library and pick out the books on his subject that
were no longer needed. And his reply to the librarian was this: "Take every
text-book that is more than ten years old, and put it down in the cellar." Sir
James Simpson was a great authority only a few years ago: men came from all
parts of the earth to consult him; and almost the whole teaching of that time is
consigned by the science
of today to oblivion. And in every branch of science it is the same. "Now we
know in part. We see through a glass darkly."
Can you tell me anything that is going to last? Many things Paul did not
condescend to name. He did not mention money, fortune, fame; but he picked out
the great things of his time, the things the best men thought had something in
them, and brushed them peremptorily aside. Paul had no charge against these
things in themselves. All he said about them was that they would not last. They
were great things, but
not supreme things. There were things beyond them.
What we are stretches past what we do, beyond what we possess.
Many things that men denounce as sins are not sins; but they are temporary. And
that is a favourite argument of the New Testament. John says of the world, not
that it is wrong, but simply that it "passeth away." There is a great deal in
the world that is delightful and beautiful; there is a great deal in it that is
great and engrossing; but it will not last. All that is in the world, the lust
of the eye, the lust of the flesh, and the pride of life, are but for a little
while. Love not the world therefore. Nothing that it contains is worth the life
and consecration of an immortal soul. The immortal soul must give itself to
something that is immortal. And the only immortal things are these: "Now abideth
faith, hope, love, but the greatest of these is love."
Some think the time may come when two of these three things will also pass
away---faith into sight, hope into fruition. Paul does not say so. We know
but little now about the conditions of the life that is to come. But what is
certain is that Love must last. God, the Eternal God, is Love. Covet therefore
that everlasting gift, that one thing which it is certain is going to stand,
that one coinage which will be
current in the Universe when all the other coinages of all the nations of the
world shall be useless and unhonoured. You will give yourselves to many things,
give yourselves first to Love. Hold things in their proportion. Hold
things in their proportion. Let at least the first great object of our lives
be to achieve the character defended in these words, the character,---and it
is the character of Christ---which is built around Love.
I have said this thing is eternal. Did you ever notice how continually John
associates love and faith with eternal life? I was not told when I was a boy
that "God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever
believeth in Him should have everlasting life." What I was told, I remember,
was, that God so loved the world that, if I trusted in Him, I was to have a
thing called peace, or I was to have rest, or I was to have joy, or I was to
have safety. But I
had to find out for myself that whosoever trusteth in Him---that is, whosoever
loveth Him, for trust is only the avenue to Love---hath everlasting life.
The Gospel offers a man life.
Never offer men a thimbleful of Gospel. Do not offer them merely joy, or
merely peace, or merely rest, or merely safety; tell them how Christ came to
give men a more abundant life than they have, a life abundant in love, and
therefore abundant in salvation for themselves, and large in enterprise for the
alleviation and redemption of the world. Then only can the Gospel take hold
of the whole of a man, body, soul, and spirit, and give to each part of his
nature its exercise and reward.
Many of the current Gospels are addressed only to a part of man's nature. They
offer peace, not life; faith, not Love; justification, not regeneration.
And men slip back again from such religion because it has never really held
them. Their nature was not all in it. It offered no deeper and gladder life
current than the life that was lived before. Surely it stands to reason that
only a fuller love can compete with the love of the world.
To love abundantly is to live abundantly, and to love forever is to live
forever. Hence, eternal life is inextricably bound up with love. We want to
live forever for the same reason that we want to live tomorrow. Why do you
want to live tomorrow? It is because there is someone who loves you, and whom
you want to see tomorrow, and be with, and love back. There is no other reason
why we should live on than that we love and are beloved. It is when a man
has no one to love
him that he commits suicide. So long as he has friends, those who love him and
whom he loves, he will live; because to live is to love. Be it but the love of a
dog, it will keep him in life; but let that go and he has no contact with life,
no reason to live. The "energy of life" has failed.
Eternal life also is to know God, and God is love. This is
Christ's own definition. Ponder it. "This is life eternal, that they might know
Thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom Thou hast sent." Love must be
eternal. It is what God is.
On the last analysis, then, love is life. Love never faileth, and life never
faileth, so long as there is love. That is the philosophy of what Paul is
showing us; the reason why in the nature of things Love should be the supreme
thing---because it is going to last; because in the nature of things it is an
Eternal Life. That Life is a thing that we are living now, not that we get when
we die; that we shall have a poor chance of getting when we die unless we are
living now. No worse fate can befall a man in this world than to live and grow
old alone, unloving, and unloved. To be lost is to live in an
unregenerate condition, loveless and unloved; and to be saved is to love; and he
that dwelleth in love dwelleth already in God. For God is love.
Now I have all but finished. How many of you will join me in reading this
chapter once a week for the next three months? A man did that once and it
changed his whole life. Will you do it? It is for the greatest thing in the
world. You might begin by reading it every day, especially the verses which
describe the perfect character. "Love suffereth long, and is kind; love envieth
not; love vaunteth not itself." Get these ingredients into your life. Then
everything that you do is eternal. It is worth doing. It is worth giving time
to. No
man can become a saint in his sleep; and to fulfil the condition required
demands a certain amount of prayer and meditation and time, just as improvement
in any direction, bodily or mental, requires preparation and care. Address
yourselves to that one thing; at any cost have this transcendent character
exchanged for yours.
You will find as you look back upon your life that the moments that stand out,
the moments when you have really lived, are the moments when you have done
things in a spirit of love.
As memory scans the past, above and beyond all the transitory pleasures of
life, there leap forward those supreme hours when you have been enabled to do
unnoticed kindnesses to those round about you, things too trifling to speak
about, but which you feel have entered into your eternal life. I have seen
almost all the beautiful things God has made; I have enjoyed almost every
pleasure that He has planned for man; and yet as I look back I see standing out
above all the life that has gone four or five short experiences when the love of
God reflected itself in some poor imitation, some small act of love of mine, and
these seem to be the things which alone of all one's life abide. Everything
else in all our lives is transitory. Every other good is visionary. But the acts
of love which no man knows about, or can ever know about---they never fail.
In the Book of Matthew, where the Judgment Day is depicted for us in the imagery
of One seated upon a throne and dividing the sheep from the goats, the test
of a man then is not, "How have I believed?" but "How have I loved?" The test of
religion, the final test of religion, is not religiousness, but Love. I
say the final test of religion at
that great Day is not religiousness, but Love; not what I have done, not what I
have believed, not what I have achieved, but how I have discharged the common
charities of life. Sins of commission in that awful indictment are not
even referred to. By what we have not done, by sins of omission, we are judged.
It could not be otherwise. For the
withholding of love is the negation of the spirit of Christ, the proof that we
never knew Him, that for us He lived in vain. It means that He suggested nothing
in all our thoughts, that He inspired nothing in all our lives, that we were not
once near enough to Him to be seized with the spell of His compassion for the
world. It means that---
"I lived for myself, I thought for myself,
For myself, and none beside—--
Just as if Jesus had never lived,
As if He had never died."
It is the Son of Man before whom the nations of the world shall be gathered. It
is in the presence of Humanity that we shall be charged. And the spectacle
itself, the mere sight of it, will silently judge each one. Those will be there
whom we have met and helped: or there, the unpitied multitude whom we neglected
or despised. No other witness need be summoned. No other charge than
lovelessness shall be preferred.
Be not deceived. The words which all of us shall one Day hear, sound not of theology but of life, not of churches and saints but of the hungry and the poor, not of creeds and doctrines but of shelter and clothing, not of Bibles and prayer-books but of cups of cold water in the name of Christ. Thank God the Christianity of today is coming nearer the world's need. Live to help that on. Thank God men know better, by a hair’s breadth, what religion is, what God is, who Christ is, where Christ is.
Who is Christ? He who fed the hungry, clothed the naked, visited the sick. And
where is Christ? Where?---whoso shall receive a little child in My name
receiveth Me. And who are Christ's? Every one that loveth is born of God.
Link back to
index.html