'We labour that whether present or absent we may be
accepted of Him.'--2 COR. v. 2.
We do not usually care very much for, or very much trust, a man's own
statement of the motives of his life, especially if in the statement
he takes credit for lofty and noble ones. And it would be rather a
dangerous experiment for the ordinary run of so-called Christian
people to stand up and say what Paul says here, that the supreme
design and aim towards which all their lives are directed is to
please Jesus Christ. In his case the tree was known by its fruits.
Certainly there never was a life of more noble self-abnegation, of
more continuous heroism, of loftier aspiration and lowlier service
than the life of which we see the very pulse in these words.
But Paul is not only professing his own faith, he is speaking in the
name of all his brethren. 'We,' ought to include every man and woman
who calls himself or herself a Christian. It is this setting of the
will of Jesus Christ high up above all other commandments, and
proposing to one's self as the aim that swallows up all other aims,
that I may please Him--it is this, and not creeds, forms, opinions,
professions, or even a faith that simply trusts in Him for salvation,
that makes a true Christian. You are a Christian in the precise
measure in which Christ's will is uppermost and exclusive in your
life, and for all your professions and your orthodoxy and your
worship and your faith, not one hair's-breadth further. Here is the
signature and the common characteristic of all real Christians, 'We
labour that whether present or absent we may be well-pleasing to
Him.'
So then in looking together at these words now, I take three points,
the supreme aim of the Christian life; the concentration of effort
which that aim demands; and the insignificance to which it reduces
all external things.
I. First, then, let me deal with that supreme aim of the Christian
life.
The word which is, correctly enough, rendered 'accepted,' may more
literally, and perhaps with a closer correspondence to the Apostle's
meaning, be translated 'well-pleasing,' and the aim is this, not
merely that we may be accepted, but that we may bring a smile into
His face, and some joy and complacent delight in us into His heart,
when He looks upon our doings. That pleasure of Jesus Christ in them
that 'fear Him, and in them that hope in His mercy' and do His will
is a present emotion that fills His heart in looking upon His
followers, and it will be especially declared in the solemn, final
judgment. We must keep in view both of these periods, if we would
rightly understand the sweep of the aim which ought to be uppermost
in all Christian people. Here and now in our present acts, we should
so live as to occasion a present sentiment of complacent delight in
us, in the heart of the Christ who sees us here and now and always.
We should so live as that at that far-off future day when we shall
'all be manifested before the Judgment-seat of Christ,' the Judge may
bend from His tribunal, and welcome us into His presence with a word
of congratulation and an outstretched hand of loving reception. Set
that two-fold aim before you, Christian men and women, else you will
fail to experience the full stimulus of this thought.
Now such an aim as this implies a very wonderful conception of Jesus
Christ's present relations to us. It is a truth that we may minister
to His joy. It is a truth that just as really as you mothers are glad
when you hear from a far-off land that your boy is doing well, and
getting on, so Jesus Christ's heart fills with gladness when He sees
you and me walking in the paths in which He would have us go. We
often think about our dear dead that they cannot know of us and
our doings here, because the sorrow that would sometimes come from
the contemplation of our evil, or of our misfortunes, would trouble
them in their serene rest. We know not how that may be, but this at
least we do know, that the Man Jesus Christ, who, like those dear
ones, 'was dead, and is alive for evermore,' in His human nature has
knowledge of all His children's failures, as well as successes, and
is affected with some shadow of regret, or with some reality of
delight, according as they follow or stray from the paths in which He
would have them walk. If it be so with Him it may be so with them;
and though it be not so with them it must be so with Him. So this
strange, sweet, tender, and powerful thought is a piece of plain
prose, that Christ is glad when you and I are good.
Does it need any word to emphasise the force of that motive to a
Christian heart that loves the Master? Surely this is the great and
blessed peculiarity of all the morality of Christianity that it has
all a personal bearing and aspect, and that just as the sum of all
our duty is gathered up in the one command, 'Imitate Christ,' so the
motive for all our duty lies in 'If you love Me, keep My
commandments,' and the reward which ought to stimulate more than
anything besides is the one thought, not, of what I shall get because
I am good, but of what I shall give Him by my obedience, a joy in the
heart that was stabbed through and through by sorrow for my sake.
That we may please Him 'who pleased not Himself,' is surely the
grandest motive on which the pursuit of holiness, and the imitation
of Jesus Christ can ever be made to rest. Oh! how different, and how
much more blessed such a motive and aim is than all the lower reasons
for which men are sometimes exhorted and encouraged to be good! What
a difference it is when we say, 'Do that thing because it is right,'
and when we say, 'Do that thing because you will be happier if you
do,' or when we say, 'Do it because He would like you to do it.' The
one is all cold and abstract. To stand before a man and simply say:
'Now go and do your duty,' is a poor way of setting his feet upon a
rock and establishing his goings. Duty is not a word that stirs men's
hearts, however it may awe their consciences. It rises up before us
like some goddess statuesque and serene, with purity, indeed, in her
deep and solemn eyes, but with nothing appealing to our affections in
her stern lineaments. But when the thought of 'You ought' melts into
'For my sake,' and through the dissolving face of the cold marble
goddess there shine the beloved lineaments of Him who 'wears the
Godhead's most benignant grace,' the smile upon His face becomes a
motive that touches all hearts. Transmute obligation into gratitude,
and in front of duty and appeals to self put Christ, and all the
harshness and difficulty and burden and self-sacrifice of obedience
becomes easy and a joy.
Then let me remind you that this one supreme aim of pleasing Jesus
Christ can be carried on through all life in every varying form,
great or small. A blessed unity is given to our whole being when the
little things and the big things, the easy things and the hard
things, deeds which are conspicuous and deeds which no eye sees, are
all brought under the influence of the one motive and made co-operant
to the one end. Drive that one steadfast aim through your lives like
a bar of iron, and it will give the lives strength and
consistency--not rigidity, because they may still be flexible.
Nothing will be too small to be consecrated by that motive; nothing
too great to own its power. You can please Him everywhere and always.
The only thing that is inconsistent with pleasing Him is the thing
which, alas! we do at all times and should do at no time, and that is
to sin against Him. If we bear with us this as a conscious motive in
every part of our day's work it will give us a quick discernment as
to what is evil, which I believe nothing else will so surely give. If
you desire life to be noble, uniform, dignified, great in its
minutest acts and solemn in its very trifles, and if you would have
some continual test and standard by which you can detect all
spurious, apparent virtues, and discover lurking and masked
temptations, carry this one aim clear and high above all else, and
make it the purpose of the whole life, to be well-pleasing unto Him.
II. Now, in the next place, notice the concentrated effort which this
aim requires.
The word rendered in my text 'labour' is a peculiar one, very seldom
employed in Scripture. It means, in its most literal signification,
to be fond of honour, or to be actuated by a love of honour; and
hence it comes, by a very natural transition, to mean to strive to
gain something for the sake of the honour connected with it. That is
to say, it not only expresses the notion of diligent, strenuous
effort, but it reveals the reason for that diligence and
strenuousness in what I may call (for the word might almost be so
rendered) the _ambition_ of being honoured by pleasing Christ.
So that the 'labour' of my text covers the whole ground, not only of
the act but of its motive. The concentration of effort which such an
aim requires may be enforced by one or two simple exhortations.
First, let me say that we ought, as Christian people, to cultivate
this noble ambition of pleasing Jesus Christ. Men have all got the
love of approbation deep in them. God put it there for a good
purpose, not that we might shape our lives so as to get others to pat
us on the back, and say, 'Well done!' but that, in addition to the
other solemn and sovereign motives for following the paths of
righteousness, we might have this highest ambition to impel us on the
road. And it is the duty of all Christians to see to it that they
discipline themselves so as, in their own feelings, to put high above
all the approbation or censure of their fellows the approbation or
censure of Jesus Christ. That will take some cultivation. It is a
great deal easier to shape our courses so as to get one another's
praise. I remember a quaint saying in a German book. 'An old
schoolmaster tried to please this one and that one, and it failed.
"Well, then," said he, "I will try to please Christ." And that
succeeded.'
And let me remind you that a second part of the concentration of
effort which this aim requires is to strive with the utmost energy in
the accomplishment of it. Paul did not believe that anybody could
please Jesus Christ without a fight for it. His notion of acceptable
service was service which a man suppressed much to render, and
overcame much to bring. And I urge upon you this, dear brethren, that
with all the mob of faces round about us which shut out Christ's
face, and with all the temptations to follow other aims, and with the
weaknesses of our own characters, it never was, is not, nor ever will
be, an easy thing, or a thing to be done without a struggle and a
dead lift, to live so as to be well-pleasing to Him.
Look at Paul's metaphors with which he sets forth the Christian
life--a warfare, a race, a struggle, a building up of some great
temple structure, and the like--all suggesting at the least the idea
of patient, persistent, continuous toil, and most of them suggesting
also the idea of struggle with antagonistic forces and difficulties,
either within or without. So we must set our shoulders to the wheel,
put our backs into our work. Do not think that you are going to be
carried into the condition of conformity with Jesus Christ in a
dream, or that the road to heaven is a primrose path, to be trodden
in silver slippers. 'I will not offer unto the Lord that which doth
cost me nothing,' and if you do, it will be worth exactly what it
costs. There must be concentration of effort if we are to be
well-pleasing to Him.
But then do not forget, on the other hand, that deeper than all
effort, and the very spring and life of it, there must be the opening
of our hearts for the entrance of His life and spirit, by the
presence of which only are we well-pleasing to Christ. That which
pleases Him in you and me is our likeness to Him. According to the
old Puritan illustration, the refiner sat by the furnace until he
could see in the molten metal his own face mirrored, and then he knew
it was pure. So what pleases Christ in us is the reflection of
Himself. And how can we get that likeness to Himself except by
receiving into our hearts the Spirit that was in Christ Jesus, and
will dwell in us, and will produce in us in our measure the same
image that it formed in Him? 'Work _out_ your own salvation,'
because 'it is God that worketh _in_ you.' Labour, concentrate
effort, and above all open the heart to the entrance of that
transforming power.
III. Lastly, let me suggest the utter insignificance to which this
aim reduces all externals.
'We labour,' says Paul, 'that whether present or absent, we may be
accepted.' What differences of condition are covered by that
parenthetical phrase--'present or absent!' He talks about it as if it
was a very small matter, does he not? And what is included in it?
Whether a man shall be in the body or out of it; that is to say,
whether he be alive or dead. Here is an aim then, so great, so lofty,
so all-comprehensive that it reduces the difference between living in
the world and being out of it, to a trifle. And if we stand so high
up that these two varieties of condition dwindle into insignificance
and seem to have melted into one, do you think that there is anything
else that will be very big? If the difference between life and death
is dwindled and dwarfed, what else do you suppose will remain?
Nothing, I should think.
So if we only, by God's help, which will be given to us if we want
it, keep this clear before us as the motive of all our life, then all
the possible alternatives of human condition and circumstance will
sink into insignificance, and from that lofty summit will 'show
scarce so gross as beetles' in the air beneath our lofty station.
Whether we be rich or poor, solitary or beset by friends, happy or
sad, hopeful or despairing, young or old, wearied or buoyant, learned
or foolish, it matters not. The one aim lifts itself before us, and
they in whose eyes shine the light of that great issue are careless
of the road along which they pass. Do you enlist yourselves in the
company that fires at the long range, and all those that take aim at
the shorter ones will seem to be very pitifully limiting their
powers.
Then remember that this same aim, and this same result may be equally
pursued and attained whether here or yonder. It is something to have
a course of life which runs straight along, unbent aside, and not cut
short off, by the change from earth to Heaven. And this felicity he
only has who, amidst things temporal and insignificant, sees and
seeks the eternal smile on the face of his unchanging Saviour. On
earth, in death, through eternity, such a life will be homogeneous
and of a piece; and when all other aims are hull down below the
horizon, forgotten and out of sight, then still this will be the
purpose, and yonder it will be the accomplished purpose, of each, to
please the Lord Jesus Christ.
My dear friend, remember that in its full meaning this aim regards
the future, and points onward to that great judgment-seat where you
and I will certainly each of us give account of himself. Do you think
that you will please Christ then? Do you think that when that day
dawns, a smile of welcome will come into His eyes, and a glow of
gladness at the meeting into yours? Or have you cause to fear that
you will 'call on the rocks and the hills to cover you from the face
of Him that sitteth on the Throne?'
We are all close by one another; our voices are very audible to each
other. Do you learn, Christian people, that the first,--or at least a
prime--condition of all Christian and Christ-pleasing life, is a
wholesome disregard of what anybody says but Himself. The old
Lacedæmonians used to stir themselves to heroism by the thought:
'What will they say of us in Sparta?' The governor of some outlying
English colony minds very little what the people that he is set to
rule think about him. He reports to Downing Street, and it is the
opinion of the Home Government that influences him. You report to
headquarters. Never mind what anybody else thinks of you. Your
business is to please Christ, and the less you trouble yourselves
about pleasing men the more you will succeed in doing it. Be deaf to
the tittle tattle of your fellow soldiers in the ranks. It is your
Commander's smile that will be your highest reward.
'Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil,
But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes,
And perfect witness of all-judging Jove;
As he pronounces lastly on each deed,
Of so much fame in heaven expect thy meed.'