LOVE, THE MOTIVE POWER FOR SERVICE.
Let me call your attention to Paul's first letter to the Corinthians,
thirteenth chapter: In reading this passage let us use the word "love"
instead of "charity":--"Though 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 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."
It is a great thing to be a prophet like Daniel, or Isaiah, or Elijah,
or Elisha; but it is a greater thing, we are told here, to be full of
love than to be filled with the spirit of prophecy. Mary of Bethany,
who was so full of love, held a higher position than these great
prophets did.
"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. And now abideth faith, hope, love, these three; but
the greatest of these is love."
The enemy had got into that little Church at Corinth established by
Paul, and there was strife among the disciples. One said, "I am of
Apollos;" another, "I am of Cephas;" and another, "I am of Paul." Paul
saw that this sectarian strife and want of love among God's dear
people would be disastrous to the Church of God, and so he wrote this
letter. I have often said that if every true believer could move into
this chapter and live in the spirit of it for twelve months, the
Church of God would double its numbers within that time. One of the
great obstacles in the way of God's work to-day is this want of love
among those who are the disciples of the Lord Jesus Christ.
If we love a person we will not be pointing out his failings all the
time. It is said: "Many rules of eloquence have been set forth, but,
strange, to say, the first and most essential of all has been
overlooked, namely, love. To address men well they must be loved much.
Whatever they may be, be they ever so guilty, or indifferent, or
ungrateful, or however deeply sunk in crime, before all, and above
all, they must be loved. Love is the sap of the Gospel, the secret of
lively and effectual preaching, the magic power of eloquence. The end
of preaching is to reclaim the hearts of men to God, and nothing but
love can find out the mysterious avenues which lead to the heart. If
then you do not feel a fervent love and profound pity for humanity, be
assured that the gift of Christian eloquence has been denied you. You
will not win souls, neither will you acquire that most excellent of
earthly sovereignties--sovereignty over human hearts. An Arab proverb
runs thus--'The neck is bent by the sword, but heart is only bent by
heart.' Love is irresistible."
Look at these words: "Love suffereth long, and is kind; love envieth
not." How often it happens that if one outshines another there is apt
to be envy in our hearts toward that one; we want a great deal of
grace to keep it down. "Love vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up."
One of the worst enemies that Christians have to contend with is this
spirit of rivalry--this feeling, "Who shall be the greatest?"
Some years ago I read a book that did me a great deal of good. It was
entitled, "The Training of the Twelve." The writer said that Christ
spent most of His time during the three years He was engaged publicly
about His Father's business in training twelve men. The training He
gave them was very different from the training of the schools at the
present day. The world teaches men that they must seek to be great;
Christ taught that His disciples must be little; that in honor they
must prefer one another; that they are not to be puffed up, not to
harbor feelings of envy, but to be full of meekness and gentleness,
and lowliness of heart.
When an eminent painter was requested to paint Alexander the Great so
as to give a perfect likeness of the Macedonian conqueror, he felt a
difficulty. Alexander, in his wars, had been struck by a sword, and
across his forehead was an immense scar. The painter said: "If I
retain the scar, it will be an offense to the admirers of the monarch,
and if I omit it it will fail to be a perfect likeness. What shall I
do?" He hit upon a happy expedient; he represented the Emperor leaning
on his elbow, with his forefinger upon his brow, accidentally, as it
seemed, covering the scar upon his forehead. Might not we represent
each other with the finger of charity upon the scar, instead of
representing the scar deeper and blacker than it really is? Christians
may learn even from heathendom a lesson of charity, of human kindness
and of love.
This spirit of seeking to be the greatest has nearly ruined the Church
of God at different times in its history. If the Church had not been
Divine it would have gone to pieces long ago. There is hardly any
movement of reform to-day that has not been in danger of being
thwarted and destroyed through this miserable spirit of ambition and
self-seeking. May God enable us to get above this, to cast away our
conceit and pride, and take Christ as our teacher, that He may show us
in what spirit His work ought to be done.
One of the saddest things in the life of Christ was the working of
this spirit among His disciples even in the last hours of His
intercourse with them, and just before He was led away to be
crucified. We read in the gospel by Luke: "But, behold, the hand of
him that betrayeth Me is with Me on the table. And truly the Son of
man goeth, as it was determined: but woe unto that man by whom He is
betrayed! And they began to inquire among themselves, which of them it
was that should do this thing. And there was also a strife among them
which of them should be accounted the greatest. And He said unto them,
"The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them; and they that
exercise authority upon them are called benefactors. But ye shall not
be so: but he that is greatest among you, let him be as the younger;
and he that is chief, as he that doth serve. For whether is greater,
he that sitteth at meat, or he that serveth? Is not he that sitteth at
meat? But I am among you as He that serveth."
Right there, on that memorable night when He had instituted the Last
Supper, after they had been eating of the Passover Lamb, and the
Saviour was on His way to the Cross,--even there this spirit arose
among them: Who should be the greatest!
There is a charming tradition connected with the site on which the
temple of Solomon was erected. It is said to have been occupied in
common by two brothers, one of whom had a family--the other had none.
On this spot was sown a field of wheat. On the evening succeeding the
harvest--the wheat having been gathered in separate shocks--the elder
brother said to his wife: "My younger brother is unable to bear the
burden and heat of the day, I will arise, take of my shocks, and place
with his without his knowledge." The younger brother being actuated by
the same benevolent motives, said within himself: "My elder brother
has a family, and I have none. I will arise, take of my shocks, and
place it with his."
Judge of their mutual astonishment, when, on the following day, they
found their respective shocks undiminished. This course of events
transpired for several nights, when each resolved in his own mind to
stand guard and solve the mystery. They did so; when, on the following
night, they met each other half way between their respective shocks
with their arms full. Upon ground hallowed by such associations as this
was the temple of Solomon erected--so spacious and magnificent--the
wonder and admiration of the world! Alas! in these days, how many
would sooner steal their brother's whole shock than add to it a single
sheaf!
If we want to be wise in winning souls and to be vessels meet for the
Master's use we must get rid of the accursed spirit of self-seeking.
That is the meaning of this chapter in Paul's letter. He told these
Corinthians that a man might be full of faith and zeal; he might be
very benevolent; but if he had not love he was like sounding brass and
a tinkling cymbal. I believe many men might as well go into the pulpit
and blow a tin horn Sabbath after Sabbath as go on preaching without
love. A man may preach the truth; he may be perfectly sound in
doctrine; but if there is no love in his heart going out to those whom
he addresses, and if he is doing it professionally, the Apostle says
he is only a sounding brass.
It is not always _more_ work that we want so much as _a better
motive_. Many of us do a good deal of work, but we must remember that
God looks at the motive. The only tree on this earth that can produce
fruit which is pleasing to God is the tree of love.
Paul in writing to Titus says: "Speak thou the things which become
sound doctrine: that the aged men be sober, grave, temperate, sound in
faith, in charity, (or love) in patience." What is the worth of a
sermon, however sound in doctrine it may be, if it be not sound in
love and in patience? What are our prayers worth without the spirit of
love? People say: "Why is it that there is no blessing? Our minister's
sermons and prayers are very good." Most likely you will find it is
because the whole thing is done professionally. The words glisten like
icicles in the sun, and they are as cold. There is not a spark of love
in them. If that is the case there will be very little power. You may
have your prayer-meetings, your praise meetings, your faith and hope
meetings; you may _talk_ about all these things; but if there is no
love mingled with them, God says you are as sounding brass and a
tinkling cymbal.
Now a man may be a very good doctor and yet have no love for his
patients. He may be a very clever and successful lawyer and yet have
no love for his clients. A merchant may prosper greatly in business
without caring at all about his customers. A man may be able to
explain the wonderful mysteries of science or theology without any
love. But no man can be a true worker for God, and a successful winner
of souls without love. He may be a great preacher in the eyes of the
world and have crowds flocking to hear him, but if love to God and to
souls is not the motive power, the effects will all pass away like the
morning cloud and the early dew.
It is said when the men of Athens went to hear Demosthenes they were
always moved, and felt that they must go and fight Philip of Macedon.
There was another orator of that day who could carry them away by his
eloquence at the time, but when the oration was over, all the
influence had gone; it was nothing but fine words. So a man may be
very eloquent and have a great flow of language; he may sway the
multitudes while they are under his influence; but if there is no love
at the back of what he says, it will all go for nothing. It was
Demosthenes' love for his country that stirred him, and then he
stirred the people.
When we get on to the higher plane of love it will not be hard for us
to work for the Lord. We will be glad to do anything, however small.
God hates the great things in which love is not the motive power; but
He delights in the little things that are prompted by a feeling of
love. A cup of cold water given to a disciple in the spirit of love,
is of far more value in God's sight than the taking of a kingdom, done
out of ambition and vain glory.
I am getting sick and tired of hearing the word, _duty_, _duty_. You
hear so many talk about it being their duty to do this and do that. My
experience is that such Christians have very little success. Is there
not a much higher platform than that of mere duty? Can we not engage
in the service of Christ because we love Him? When that is the
constraining power it is so easy to work. It is not hard for a mother
to watch over a sick child. She does not look upon it as any hardship.
You never hear Paul talking about what a hard time he had in his
Master's service. He was constrained by love to Christ, and by the
love of Christ to him. He counted it a joy to labor, and even to
suffer, for his blessed Master.
Perhaps you say I ought not to talk against duty; because a good deal
of work would not be done at all if it were not done from a sense of
duty. But I want you to see what a poor, low motive that is, and how
you may reach a higher plane of service.
I am thinking of going back to my home soon. I have in my mind an old,
white-haired mother living on the banks of the Connecticut river, in
the same little town where she has been for the last eighty years.
Suppose when I return I take her some present, and when I give it to
her I say: "You have been so very kind to me in the past that I
thought it was my duty to bring you a present." What would she think?
But how different it would be when I give it to her because of my
strong love to her. How much more she would value it. So God wants His
children to serve Him for something else than mere duty. He does not
want us to feel that it is a hard thing to do His will.
Take an army that fights because it is compelled to do so; they will
not gain many victories. But how different when they are full of love
for their country and for their commanders. Then nothing can stand
before them. Do not think you can do any work for Christ and hope to
succeed if you are not impelled by love.
Napoleon tried to establish a kingdom by the force of arms. So did
Alexander the Great, and Caesar, and other great warriors; but they
utterly failed. Jesus founded His kingdom on love, and it is going to
stand. When we get on to this plane of love, then all selfish and
unworthy motives will disappear, and our work will stand the fire when
God shall put it to the test.
Another thing I want you to bear in mind. Love never looks to see what
it is going to get in return. In the Gospel by Matthew we read of the
parable of the man who went out to hire laborers that he might send
them to work in his vineyard. After he had hired and sent out some in
the morning, we are told that he found others standing idle later in
the day, and he sent them also. It so happened that those who went out
last got back first. Those that went out early in the morning supposed
they would get more wages than those that went at the eleventh hour,
and when they found they were only to get the same, they began to
murmur and complain. But what was the good man's answer: "Friend, I do
thee no wrong; didst not thou _agree_ with me for a penny? Take that
thine is, and go thy way; I will give unto this last, even as unto
thee. Is it not lawful for me to do what I will with mine own? Is
thine eye evil, because I am good? So the last shall be first, and the
first last." I have generally found that those workers who are all the
time looking to see how much they are going to get from the Lord are
never satisfied. But love does its work and makes no bargain. Let us
make no bargains with the Lord, but be ready to go out and do whatever
He appoints.
I am sure if we go out cherishing love in our hearts for those we are
going to try and reach, every barrier will be swept out of the way.
Love begets love, just as hatred begets hatred. Love is the key to the
human heart. Some one has said: "Light is for the mind, and love is
for the heart." When you can reach men's hearts then you can turn them
toward Christ. But we must first win them to ourselves.
You may have heard of the boy whose home was near a wood. One day he
was in the wood, and he thought he heard the voice of another boy not
far off. He shouted, "Hallo, there!" and the voice shouted back,
"Hallo, there!" He did not know that it was the echo of his own voice,
and he shouted again: "You are a mean boy!" Again the cry came back,
"You are a mean boy!" After some more of the same kind of thing he
went into the house and told his mother that there was a bad boy in
the wood. His mother, who understood how it was, said to him: "Oh, no!
You speak kindly to him, and see if he does not speak kindly to you."
He went to the wood again and shouted: "Hallo, there!" "Hallo, there!"
"You are a good boy." Of course the reply came, "You are a good boy."
"I love you." "I love you," said the other voice.
You smile at that, but this little story explains the secret of the
whole thing. Some of you perhaps think you have bad and disagreable
neighbors; most likely the trouble is with yourself. If you love your
neighbors they will love you. As I said before, love is the key that
will unlock every human heart. There is no man or woman in all this
land so low and so degraded but you can reach them with love,
gentleness and kindness. It may take years to do it, but it can be
done.
Love must be active. As some one has said: "A man may hoard up his
money; he may bury his talents in a napkin; but there is one thing he
cannot hoard up, and that is love." You cannot bury it. It _must_ flow
out. It cannot feed upon itself; it must have an object.
I remember reading a few years ago of something that happened when we
had the yellow fever in one of the Southern cities. There was a family
there who lived in a strange neighborhood where they had just moved.
The father was stricken down with the fever. There were so many fatal
cases happening that the authorities of the city did not stop to give
them a decent burial. The dead-cart used to go through the street
where the poor lived, and the bodies were carried away for burial.
The neighbors of this family were afraid, and no one would visit the
house because of the fever. It was not long before the mother was
stricken down. Before she died she called her boy to her, and said: "I
will soon be gone, but when I am dead Jesus will come and take care of
you." She had no one on earth to whom she could commit him. In a
little while she, too, was gone, and they carried her body away to the
cemetery. The little fellow followed her to the grave. He saw where
they laid her, and then he came back to the house.
But he found it very lonely, and when it grew dark he got afraid and
could not stay in the house. He went out and sat down on the step and
began to weep. Finally he went back to the cemetery, and finding the
lot where his mother was buried, he laid down and wept himself to
sleep.
Next morning a stranger passing that way found him on the grave, still
weeping. "What are you doing here, my boy?" "Waiting for the Savior."
The man wanted to know what he meant, and the boy told the story of
what his mother had said to him. It touched the heart of the stranger,
and he said, "Well, my boy, Jesus has sent me to take care of you."
The boy looked up and replied: "You have been a long while coming."
If we had the love of our Master do you tell me that these outlying
masses would not be reached? There is not a drunkard who would not be
reached. There is not a poor fallen one, or a blasphemer, or an
atheist, but would be influenced for good. The atheists cannot get
over the power of love. It will upset atheism and every false system
quicker than anything else. Nothing will break the stubborn heart so
quickly as the love of Christ.
I was in a certain home a few years ago; one of the household was a
boy who, I noticed, was treated like one of the family, and yet he did
not bear their name. One night I asked the lady of the house to
explain to me what it meant. "I have noticed," I said, "that you treat
him exactly like your own children, yet he is not your boy." "Oh no,"
she said, "he is not. It is quite true I treat him as my own child."
She went on to tell me his story. His father and mother were American
missionaries in India; they had five children. The time came when the
children had to be sent away from India, as they could not be educated
there. They were to be sent to America for that purpose. The father
and mother had been very much blessed in India, but they felt as
though they could not give up their children. They thought they would
leave their work in the foreign field and go back to America.
They were not blessed to the same extent in working at home as they
had been in India. The natives were writing to them to return, and by
and by they decided that the call was so loud the father must go back.
The mother said to him: "I cannot let you go alone; I must go with
you." "But how can you leave the children? You have never been
separated from them." She said: "I can do it for Christ's sake." Thank
God for such love as that.
When it was known they wanted to leave their children in good homes,
this lady with whom I was staying said to the mother if she left one
of them with her she would treat the child as her own. The mother came
and stayed a week in the house to see that everything was right. The
last morning came. When the carriage drove up to the door the mother
said: "I want to leave my boy without shedding a tear; I cannot bear
to have him think that it costs me tears to do what God has for me to
do." My friend saw that there was a great struggle going on. Her room
was adjoining this lady's, who told me she heard the mother crying: "O
God, give me strength for the hour; help me now." She came downstairs
with a beautiful smile on her face. She took her boy to her bosom,
kissed him, and left him without a tear. She left all her children,
and went back to labor for Christ in India; and from the shores of
India she went up, before very long, to be with her Master. That is
what a weak woman can do when love to Christ is the motive power. Some
time after that dear boy passed away to be with the mother.
I was preaching in a certain city a few years ago, and I found a young
man very active in bringing in the boys from the street into the
meetings. If there was a hard case in the city he was sure to get hold
of it. You would find him in the Inquiry Room with a whole crowd round
him. I got to be very deeply interested in the young man and much
attached to him. I found out that he was another son of that grand and
glorious missionary. I found that all the sons were in training to go
as foreign missionaries, to take the place of the mother and father,
who had gone to their reward. It made such an impression on me that I
could not shake it off. These boys have all gone to tell out among the
heathen the story of Christ and His love.
I am convinced of this: When these hard-hearted people who now reject
the Savior are thoroughly awake to the fact that love is prompting our
efforts on their behalf, the hardness will begin to soften, and their
stubborn wills will begin to bend. This key of love will unlock their
hearts. We can turn them, by God's help, from the darkness of this
world to the light of the Gospel.
Christ gave his disciples a badge. Some of you wear a blue ribbon and
others wear a red ribbon, but the badge that Christ gave to his
disciples was LOVE. "By this shall all men know that ye are My
disciples, if ye have love one toward another." Love not only for
those who are Christians, but love for the fallen. The Good Samaritan
had love for the poor man who had fallen among thieves. If we are
filled with such love as that, the world will soon find out that we
are the followers of the Lord Jesus Christ. It will do more to upset
infidelity and rebellion against God than anything else.
Speaking about hard cases being reached, reminds me that while I was
in a home in London a young lady in that home felt that she was not
doing as much for Christ as she would like, and she decided she would
take a class of boys. She has now some fifteen or twenty of these
lads, from thirteen to sixteen years of age--a very difficult age to
deal with. This Christian young lady made up her mind that she would
first try and win for herself the affection of these boys, and then
seek to lead them to the Savior. It is a beautiful sight to see how
she has won their young hearts for herself, and I believe she will win
them all to a pure and Godly life. If we are willing to take up our
work among the young with that spirit, these boys will be saved; and
instead of helping to fill our prisons and poorhouses, they will
become useful members of the Church of God, and a blessing to society.
I have a friend who has a large Sabbath-school. He made up his mind
when he began that if a boy did not have a good training in his own
home, he could not get it anywhere else except in the Sabbath-school;
and he resolved that, if possible, when a boy was refractory he would
not turn him adrift.
He had a boy come to the school whom no teacher seemed able to manage.
One after another would come to the Superintendent and say: "You must
take him out of my class; he is demoralizing all the others; he uses
profane language, and he is doing more harm than all the good I can
do." At last my friend made up his mind he would read the boy's name
out and have him expelled publicly.
He told a few of the teachers what he was going to do, but a wealthy
young lady said: "I wish you would let me try the boy; I will do all I
can to win him." My friend said to himself he was sure she would not
have patience with him very long, but he put the boy in her class as
she requested. The little fellow very soon broke the rules in the
class, and she corrected him. He got so angry that he lost his temper
and spat in her face. She quietly took a handkerchief and wiped her
face. At the close of the lesson she asked him if he would walk home
with her when school was over. No, he said, he didn't want to speak to
her. He was not coming back to that old school any more. She asked if
he would let her walk along with him. No, he wouldn't. Well, she said,
she was sorry he was going, but if he would call at her house on
Tuesday morning and ring the front door bell, there would be a little
parcel waiting for him. She would not be at home herself, but if he
asked the servant he would receive it. He replied: "You can keep your
old parcel; I don't want it." However she thought he would be there.
By Tuesday morning the little fellow had got over his mad fit. He came
to the house and rang the door bell; the servant handed him the
parcel. When he opened it he found it contained a little vest, a
necktie, and, best of all, a note written by the teacher. She told him
how every night and every morning since he had been in her class she
had been praying for him. Now that he was going to leave her she
wanted him to remember that as long as she lived she would pray for
him, and she hoped he would grow up to be a good man.
Next morning the little fellow was in the drawing-room waiting to see
her before she came downstairs from her bedroom. She found him there
crying as if his heart would break. She asked him kindly what was the
trouble. "Oh," he said, "I have had no peace since I got your letter.
You have been so kind to me and I have been so unkind to you; I wish
you would forgive me." Said my friend, the Superintendent, "There are
about eighteen hundred children in the school, and there is not a
better boy among the whole of them."
Can we not do the same as that young lady did? Shall we not
reconsecrate ourselves now to God and to his service?
Had I the tongues of Greeks and Jews,
And nobler speech than angels use:
If love be absent, I am found
Like tinkling brass, an empty sound.
Were I inspired to preach and tell
All that is done in heaven and hell--
Or could my faith the world remove:
Still I am nothing without love.
Should I distribute all my store
To feed the hungry, clothe the poor
Or give my body to the flame,
To gain a martyr's glorious name:
If love to God and love to men
Be absent, all my hopes are vain;
Nor tongues, nor gifts, nor fiery zeal,
The work of love can e'er fulfill.
_Dr. Watts_