“What Is A Christian?” Part 7” by Romans
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZUnDKD1NMH4
We are continuing, tonight, our current Series, "What Is A Christian?” Previously, we discussed the characteristic of agape` love in answer the question posed by our Series title, “What Is A Christian?” In the opening of our Discussion in previous weeks ago, I quoted where Jesus made the clear statement, “A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another” (John 13:34-35).
In his Commentary that we saw at that time, Albert Barnes had a series of cross-references, directing us to the admonitions and instructions that presented to the believer about expressing that love ~ agape` love. Tonight, we are going to continue to look at and examine each of those cross-references in their Biblical order, and one at a time as we close, tonight.
There is only only left that we have not covered, and that is what the Apostle John wrote in his first epistle: “My little children, let us not love in word, neither in tongue; but in deed and in truth” (1 John 3:18).
The Expositor's Bible offers a thorough and insightful Commentary: “LOFTY IDEALS PERILOUS UNLESS APPLIED: Even the world sees that the Incarnation of Jesus Christ has very practical results. Even the Christmas which the world keeps is fruitful in two of these results- forgiving and giving.
How many of the multitudinous letters at that season contain one or other of these things-either the kindly gift, or the tender of reconciliation; the confession "I was wrong," or the gentle advance "we were both wrong." Love, charity (as we rather prefer to say), in its effects upon all our relations to others, is the beautiful subject of this section of our Epistle.
It begins with the message of love itself - yet another asterisk referring to the Gospel, to the very substance of the teaching which the believers of Ephesus had first received from St. Paul, and which had been emphasised by St. John. This message is announced not merely as a sounding sentiment, but for the purpose of being carried out into action.
As in moral subjects virtues and vices are best illustrated by their contraries; so, beside the bright picture of the Son of God, the Apostle points to the sinister likeness of Cain. After some brief and parenthetic words of pathetic consolation, he states as the mark of the great transition from death to life, the existence of love as a pervading spirit effectual in operation.
The dark opposite of this is then delineated in consonance with the mode of representation just above. But two such pictures of darkness must not shadow the sunlit gallery of love. There is another-the fairest and brightest. Our love can only be estimated by likeness to it;
it is imperfect unless it is conformed to the print of the wounds, unless it can be measured by the standard of the great Self-sacrifice. But if this may be claimed as the one real proof of conformity to Christ, much more is the limited partial sacrifice of "this world’s good" required.
This spirit, and the conduct which it requires in the long run, will be found to be the test of all solid spiritual comfort, of all true self-condemnation or self-acquittal. We may say of the verses prefixed to this discourse, that they bring before us charity in its idea, in its example, in its characteristics-in theory, in action, in life.
I. We have here love in its idea, "hereby know we love." Rather "hereby know we The Love." Here the idea of charity in us runs parallel with that in Christ. It is a subtle but true remark, that there is here no logical inferential particle. "Because He laid down His life for us," is not followed by its natural correlative "therefore we," but by a simple connective "and we."
The reason is this, that our duty herein is not a mere cold logical deduction. It is all of one piece with The Love. "We know The Love because He laid down His life for us; and we are in duty bound for the brethren to lay down our lives." Here, then, is the idea of love, as capable of realisation in us. It is continuous unselfishness, to be crowned by voluntary death, if death is necessary.
The beautiful old Church tradition shows that this language was the language of St. John’s life. Who has forgotten how the Apostle in his old age is said to have gone on a journey to find the young man who had fled from Ephesus and joined a band of robbers; and to have appealed to the fugitive in words which are the pathetic echo of these-"if needs be I would die for thee as He for us"?
II. The idea of charity (agape` love) is then practically illustrated by an incident of its opposite. "But whoso hath this world’s good, and gazes upon his brother in need, and shuts up his heart against him, how doth the love of God abide in him?" The reason for this descent in thought is wise and sound.
High abstract ideas, expressed in lofty and transcendent language, are at once necessary and dangerous for creatures like us. They are necessary, because without these grand conceptions our moral language and our moral life would be wanting in dignity, in amplitude, in the inspiration and impulse which are often necessary for duty and always for restoration.
But they are dangerous in proportion to their grandeur. Men are apt to mistake the emotion awakened by the very sound of these magnificent expressions of duty for the discharge of the duty itself. Hypocrisy delights in sublime speculations, because it has no intention of their costing anything.
Some of the most abject creatures embodied by the masters of romance never fail to parade their sonorous (or, heavy) generalisations. One of such characters, as the world will long remember, proclaims that sympathy is one of the holiest principles of our common nature, while he shakes his fist at a beggar.
The ideal of love to which St. John points is the loftiest of all the moral and spiritual emotions which belong to the sentiments of man. Its archetype is in the bosom of God, in the eternal relations of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. "God is love." Its home in humanity is Christ’s heart of fire and flesh; its example is the Incarnation ending in the Cross. Now of course the question for all but one in thousands is not the attainment of this lofty ideal-laying down his life for the brethren.
Sometimes the pastor is cut off by fever contracted in ministering to the sick, or by voluntarily living and working in an unwholesome atmosphere. St. John here reminds us that the ordinary test of charity is much more commonplace. It is helpful compassion to a brother who is known to be in need, manifested by giving to him something of this world’s "good"-of the "living" of this world which he possesses.
III. We have next the characteristics of love in action. "My sons, let us not love in word nor with the tongue; but in work and truth." There is love in its energy and reality; in its effort and sincerity-active and honest, without indolence and without pretence. We may well be reminded here of another familiar story of St. John at Ephesus.
When too old to walk himself to the assembly of the Church, he was carried there. The Apostle who had lain upon the breast of Jesus; who had derived from direct communication with Him those words and thoughts which are the life of the elect, was expected to address the faithful.
IV. This passage supplies an argument (capable, as we have seen in the Introduction, of much larger expansion from the Epistle as a whole) against mutilated views, fragmentary versions of the Christian life.
There are four such views which are widely prevalent at the present time. (1) The first of these is emotionalism; which makes the entire Christian life consist in a series or bundle of emotions. Its origin is the desire of having the feelings touched, partly from sheer love of excitement; partly from an idea that if and when we have worked up certain emotions to a fixed point we are saved and safe.
This reliance upon feelings is in the last analysis reliance upon self. It is a form of salvation by works; for feelings are inward actions. The only spiritual emotions spoken of in this Epistle are "joy, confidence, assuring our hearts before Him": the first as the result of receiving the history of Jesus in the Gospel, the Incarnation, and the blessed communion with God and the Church which it involves; the second as tried by tests of a most practical kind.
(2) The next of these mutilated views of the Christian life is doctrinalism - which makes it consist of a series or bundle of doctrines apprehended and expressed correctly, at least according to certain formulas, generally of a narrow and unauthorised character.
According to this view the question to be answered is - has one quite correctly understood, can one verbally formulate certain almost scholastic distinctions in the doctrine of justification? The well known standard-"the Bible only"-must be reduced by the excision of all within the Bible except the writings of St. Paul;
(3) The third mutilated view of the Christian life is humanitarianism - which makes it a series or bundle of philanthropic actions. There are some who work for hospitals, or try to bring more light and sweetness into crowded dwelling houses. Their lives are pure and noble. But the one article of their creed is humanity. Altruism is their highest duty.
Their object, so far as they have any object apart from the supreme rule of doing right, is to lay hold on subjective immortality by living on in the recollection of those whom they have helped, whose existence has been soothed and sweetened by their sympathy.
With others the case is different. Certain forms of this busy helpfulness - especially in the laudable provision of recreations for the poor-are an innocent interlude in fashionable life; sometimes, alas! a kind of work of supererogation, to atone for the want of devotion or of purity-possibly an untheological survival of a belief in justification by works.
(4) A fourth fragmentary view of the Christian life is observationism, which makes it to consist in a bundle or series of observances. Frequent services and communions, perhaps with exquisite forms and in beautifully decorated churches, have their dangers as well as their blessings...
And what is the end of our Christian calling? A life pardoned; in process of purification; growing in faith, in love of God and man, in quiet joyful service. Certainly a "rage for ceremonials and statistics," a long list of observances, does not infallibly secure such a life, though it may often be not alone the delighted and continuous expression, but the constant food and support of such a life.
But assuredly if men trust in any of these things-in their emotions, in their favourite formulas, in their philanthropic, works, in their religious observances - in anything but Christ, they greatly need to go back to the simple text, "His name shall be called Jesus, for He shall save His people from their sins."
Now, as we have said above, in distinction from all these fragmentary views, St. John’s Epistle is a survey of the completed Christian life, founded upon his Gospel. It is a consummate fruit ripened in the long summers of his experience. It is not a treatise upon the Christian affections, nor a system of doctrine, nor an essay upon works of charity, nor a companion to services.
Yet this wonderful Epistle presupposes at least much that is most precious of all these elements. (1) It is far from being a burst of emotionalism. Yet almost at the outset it speaks of an emotion as being the natural result of rightly received objective truth... St. John recognises feeling, whether of supernatural or natural origin; but he recognises it with a certain majestic reserve...
(2) This Epistle is no dogmatic summary. Yet combining it... with the other of the fourth Gospel, we have... the divinity of the Word, the reality of His manhood, the effect of His atonement, His intercession, His continual presence, the personality of the Holy Spirit, His gifts to us, the relation of the Spirit to Christ, the Holy Trinity-all these find their place in these few pages. If St. John is no mere doctrinalist he is yet the greatest theologian the Church has ever seen.
(3) {A} large gathering of the most emotional of modern sects is said to have gone on with a Bible reading in St. John’s Epistle until they came to the words -" we know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren." The reader immediately closed the book, pronouncing with general assent the verse was likely to disturb the peace of the children of God.
Still St. John puts humanitarianism in its right place as a result of something higher. "This commandment have we from Him, that he who loveth God love his brother also." As if he would say-"do not sever the law of social life from the law of supernatural life; do not separate the human fraternity from a Divine Fatherhood."
(4) No one can suppose that for St. John religion was a mere string of observances. Indeed, to some his Epistle has given the notion of a man living in an atmosphere where external ordinances and ministries either did not exist at all, or only in almost impalpable forms. Yet in that wonderful manual, "The Imitation of Christ," there is scarcely the faintest trace of any of these external things;
while no one could possibly argue that the author was ignorant of, or lightly esteemed, the ordinances and sacraments amongst which his life must have been spent. Certainly the fourth Gospel is deeply sacramental. This Epistle, with its calm, unhesitating conviction of the sonship of all to whom it is addressed; with its view of the Christian life as in idea a continuous growth from a birth the secret of whose origin is given in the Gospel...
Such is the view of the Christian life in this letter - a life in which Christ’s truth is blended with Christ’s love; assimilated by thought, exhaling in worship, softening into sympathy with man’s suffering and sorrow. It calls for the believing soul, the devout heart, the helping hand. It is the perfect balance in a saintly soul, of feeling, creed, communion, and work.
For of work for our fellow man it is that the question is asked half despairingly -"whoso hath this world’s good, and seeth" (gazes at) "his brother have need, and shutteth up his heart against him, how doth the love of God dwell in him." Some can quietly look at the poor brother; they see him in need. They may belong to "the sluggard Pity’s vision-weaving tribe," who expend a sigh of sentiment upon such spectacles, and nothing more.
Or they may be hardened professors of the "dismal science," who have learned to consider a sigh as the luxury of ignorance or of feebleness. But for all practical purposes both these classes interpose a too effectual barrier between their heart and their brother’s need. But true Christians are made partakers in Christ of the mystery of human suffering.
Even when they are not actually in sight of brethren in want, their ears are ever hearing the ceaseless moaning of the sea of human sorrow, with a sympathy which involves its own measure of pain, though a pain which brings with it abundant compensation. Their inner life has not merely won for itself the partly selfish satisfaction of personal escape from punishment, great as that blessing may be.
They have caught something of the meaning of the secret of all love-"we love because He first loved us." (1 John 4:19) In those words is the romance (if we may dare to call it so) of the divine love tale. Under its influence the face once hard and narrow often becomes radiant and softened; it smiles, or is tearful, in the light of the love of His face who first loved. It is this principle of St. John which is ever at work in Christian lands.
In hospitals it tells us that Christ is ever passing down the wards: that He will have no stinted service; that He must have more for His sick, more devotion, a gentler touch, a finer sympathy; that where His hand has broken and blessed, every particle is a sacred thing, and must be treated reverently.
Are there any who are tempted to think that our text has become antiquated; that it no longer holds true in the light of organised charity, of economic science? Let them listen to one who speaks with the weight of years of active benevolence, and with consummate knowledge of its method and duties... We cannot yet afford to shut ourselves up in the castle of philosophic indifference, regardless of the fate of those who have the misfortune to find themselves outside its walls."
As we conclude, tonight, I would like to share the Notes from the Preacher's Homiletical: “Profession and Practice.—“My little children, let us not love in word, neither with the tongue; but in deed and truth.” St. John is so full of the family feeling, and uses so constantly the family figures, that we are tempted to think he must have been a family man, centre of a happy family circle.
It may, however, only be that he was saturated with the idea of Christ’s Sonship, and that gave tone and colour to every setting of truth and persuasion of duty. The term “little children” here is used in a general sense of the believers, but it suggests the simplicity, humility, and receptiveness which ought to be their characteristics.
In the teaching of this text, as in so many other cases, St. John shows how he had been influenced by the teachings of his Divine Master, and did but reproduce them, bearing a certain impress from his own thought and experience.
The best illustrations of our text, and of the duty enjoined in it, may be gained by showing how much our Lord made of doing His will—not knowing it merely, not talking about it only, but really doing it in the energetic endeavour of a life of service and charity.
I. The connection of “doing” with “knowing” is characteristic of Christ’s teachings.—We find it constantly made the topic of His parables. In that of the “ten talents,” the Master is represented as expecting, and properly expecting, that the servants who know His will shall be doing, and multiply their talent-trusts by wise trading. In that of the “husbandman,” we find the Lord of the vineyard sending yearly for his proportion of the fruits of the husbandman’s toils.
In that of the “sower and the seed,” the farmer looks for a return of his labour and expenditure, hoping to reap thirty, sixty, or a hundred-fold of what the soil has done. The “barren fig tree” is represented as reasonably cut down, because it did nothing in response to all the efforts made to urge it to well-doing. In the parable of the “judgment,” the Divine approval is given to those who did something, who did “visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction”;
and the Divine indignation rests on those who knew, who could, yet who did nothing that was merciful and unselfish. Our Lord even exhibits this necessity for doing in His own life and conduct. Anticipating the life, as a twelve-year-old boy, He said, “Wist ye not that I must be about My Father’s business?” Of Him it could be said, “He went about doing good.”
At Jacob’s well, though weary with His journey, He roused Himself to talk to the Samaritan woman, when the opportunity for doing His Father’s will was presented to Him. He could not be satisfied with only talking about the Father, though that was so often the duty of the hour. He could say, “My meat and My drink is to do the will of My Father.”
And at the close of His life, He could cherish no nobler thought of the life He had lived than this, “I have finished the work which Thou gavest Me to do.” His direct teachings bore on the same subject—the supreme importance of doing as well as knowing, doing as well as feeling. “He that heareth these sayings of Mine, and doeth them.”
“If any man will do His will, he shall know of the doctrine.” “He that doeth the will of God … the same is My brother, and sister, and mother.” “Yea, blessed are they that hear the word, and do it.” “Why call ye Me Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say?” He told us that we can always judge things and persons by their “fruits”—that is, by what they do.
He likened His disciples to “salt,” which does something, savours and seasons; to a “light,” which does something, shines in the room, and enables those present to see their work; to a “city set on a hill,” which does something, acts as a beacon to guide pilgrims on their journey across the broad plain.
As if to leave a last impression on those disciples, our Lord rose from His place at the last meal with them, took a towel, girded Himself, and reaching the ewer and basin, did the servant’s work, pouring water over the feet of those disciples, and wiping them with the towel wherewith He was girded.
And then, returning to His seat, He solemnly said, “Know ye what I have done unto you? Ye call Me Master and Lord; and ye say well, for so I am. If I then, your Lord and Master, have washed your feet, ye ought also to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, that ye also should do as I have done to you. If ye know these things, blessed are ye if ye do them.”
Our Lord showed no sort of fear that doing would nourish a legal spirit, or tempt men to make their good works a ground of acceptance with God. His earnestness shows His sense of our graver danger. We are all much more likely to satisfy ourselves with professions, and to become only good-looking, leafy fig trees, on which, when He draweth nigh in His hunger, He can find no figs.
Our peril is, that we may be induced to sever asunder what God has joined together, “knowing” and “doing,” and so be like the foolish man who built his house upon the sand. Doing put in place of Christ is always wrong. Doing for Christ’s sake is always right.
II. The connection of “doing” with “knowing” which both Christ and His apostles taught, is still absolutely necessary.—1. A Christian who does nothing is worth nothing before God or men. Indeed, nobody can see anything that is gained by his calling himself a Christian. Let us be quite sure of this, and let us keep the thought ever present before us—men expect to see our religion influencing our conduct.
We expect this in others, and are hard upon them if we cannot find their piety in their every-day relations. We may well be reminded, that the people about us are looking at our doings, and will speak dishonouring things of our Lord Christ, if they cannot see His spirit in all our relationships.
Solemnly let us say to one another—No creed, however correct it may be, will ever make up, before God, or before men, for unsubdued tempers, unrestrained habits, tyranny at home, offences given abroad, self-indulgences, or neglect of the sick whom we might visit, the poor whom we might feed, or the naked whom we might clothe.
Search and see what personal satisfactions you can gain as you compare your “knowing” with your “doing,” your “profession” with your “practice.” Inquire and see whether there is abroad, among those whom you have to do with day by day, an impression which leads them to say concerning you, “Well reported of for good works.”
Would the widows and the poor folk come about your house, if you lay dead, showing the coats and garments which you made, as they came crowding round the house of Dorcas, that early Christian woman, who was full of good works and alms-deeds that she did?
2. It is necessary in order to prove the truth of Christianity itself. This system of religion makes marvellous pretensions. It is the last and highest revelation of God to men: it is the supreme remedy for the deepest human sorrows. It is God’s own sunshine to bring spring-time life to an earth lying cold and dead in the long winter of sin.
But how shall it support the pretensions? Only by living examples of its power—only as the men and women who profess to have received the life in Christ do something. Experiment tests everything. Constantly fresh experiments are needed. Select a few professsing Christians. See what they are doing.
Do not fear to apply the test—judge Christianity by its fruits. In every age it has stood this test. When all the great arguments and evidences have wearied us, we may say—See what Christianity has done. The spirit-possessed, the blind, the lame, the drunkard, the strong-tempered, the selfish, all have been changed; and the charity of the world is to-day in the hands of those who are constrained by the love of Christ.
It is like leaven, and, unbeknown, it leavens. It is like the morning light. It peeps above the eastern ridge, flinging great lines of glory up the sky. The night darkness does not like it, but it must feel it. That darkness will have to fly; for the morning light will grow in power until it makes the shadowless noonday.
If you would prove to all around you the truth of Christianity, use argument and evidence with all wisdom, as far as ever you can; but this, above everything else, we would say to you—Show men what it can do. Men may resist eloquence; they may even refute reasoning; they may deny your evidences; but they cannot resist the power of goodness.” UNQUOTE
There is more ~ much more ~ to review and examine where the Christian and agape` love is concerned. Next week, God Willing, at this same time and place, I plan to bring more of what Scripture has to say in answer the question of the title of our current Series, “What Is A Christian?” I invite all of you who are hearing my voice or reading my words to join me as we continue to answer that question from the pages of the Word of God.
This concludes this evening's Discussion, “What Is A Christian? Part 7”
This Discussion was presented “live” on February 7th, 2024.
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