Produced by Al Haines
LOVE TO THE UTTERMOST
EXPOSITIONS OF JOHN XIII--XXI.
BY
F. B. MEYER, B. A.
Author of
"The life and Light of Men: Expositions of John I.--XII.;"
"Old Testament Heroes;"
"The Shepherd Psalm;" etc.
NEW YORK ---- CHICAGO ---- TORONTO
Fleming H. Revell Company
Publishers of Evangelical Literature
Copyright, 1898-1899
by
Fleming H. Revell Company
THIS BOOK ON
THE UTTERMOST LOVE OF CHRIST
IS DEDICATED
TO MY DEAR WIFE,
WHOSE PATIENT CARE OF OUR HOME
HAS ENABLED ME
TO WRITE SO MUCH AND TRAVEL SO FAR
IN HIS SERVICE.
PREFACE
The former book on the first twelve chapters of this sublime Gospel was
called, _The Life and Light of Men_. The title was naturally suggested
by the subject-matter of those chapters. We had little difficulty in
finding a title for the present book, which covers, however cursorily,
the remainder of the Gospel. It lay open before us in the opening
verses of the thirteenth chapter, as translated in the margin of the
Revised Version. "Having loved His own which were in the world, _He
loved them to the uttermost_."
It has been impossible, in the limited space at my disposal, to deal
with these chapters as I would. Indeed, to do so, it would be
necessary to know the length, and breadth, and depth, and height of the
Love of God, which passeth knowledge. Time has been allowed to elapse,
in the hope that the view would be clearer, and the expression more
adequate, of the deep things to which the Lord gave expression. But it
is useless to wait till one is satisfied of the adequacy of one's work,
else life will have run its course before a beginning has been made.
At the end of ten more years, the task would seem still more
impracticable.
In the closing chapters I have woven together the narratives of the
four evangelists, so as to give a succinct and connected account of the
last hours of our Lord's life, and especially of His death. It has
been a great delight thus to tread the _Via Crucis_, which is also the
_Via Lucis_--the Way of the Cross, which is the Way of Life, and Light,
and Love.
F. B. MEYER.
CONTENTS
I THE LAVER IN THE LIFE OF JESUS
II THRICE BIDDEN TO LOVE
III HEAVEN DELAYED, BUT GUARANTEED
IV "MANY MANSIONS"
V THE REALITY OF WHICH JACOB'S DREAM WAS THE SHADOW
VI CHRIST REVEALING THE FATHER
VII THE GREAT DEEDS OF FAITH
VIII HOW TO SECURE MORE AND BETTER PRAYER
IX THE OTHER PARACLETE
X THE THREE DISPENSATIONS
XI THREE PARADOXES
XII MANY MANSIONS FOR GOD
XIII CHRIST'S LEGACY AND GIFT OF PEACE
XIV THE STORY OF THE VINE
XV "ABIDE IN ME, AND I IN YOU"
XVI PRAYER THAT PREVAILS
XVII THE HATRED OF THE WORLD
XVIII THE WORK OF THE HOLY SPIRIT ON THE WORLD
XIX CHRIST'S RETICENCE SUPPLEMENTED BY THE SPIRIT'S ADVENT
XX THE CONQUEROR OF THE WORLD
XXI CONSECRATED TO CONSECRATE
XXII THE LORD'S PRAYER FOR HIS PEOPLE'S ONENESS
XXIII THE LOVE THAT BOUND CHRIST TO THE CROSS
XXIV DRINKING THE CUP
XXV THE HALL OF ANNAS
XXVI HOW IT FARED WITH PETER
XXVII THE TRIAL BFFORE CAIAPHAS
XXVIII "JUDAS, WHICH BETRAYED HIM"
XXIX THE FIRST TRIAL BEFORE PILATE
XXX THE SECOND TRIAL BEFORE PILATE
XXXI THE SEVEN SAYINGS OF THE CROSS
XXXII CHRIST'S BURIAL
XXXIII THE DAY OF RESURRECTION
XXXIV THE LAKE OF GALILEE
XXXV PETER'S LOVE AND WORK
XXXVI THE LIFE-PLAN OF PETER AND JOHN
XXXVII BACK TO THE FATHER
LOVE TO THE UTTERMOST
Expositions of John xiii.-xxi.
I
The Laver in the Life of Jesus
"He poureth water into a basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet,
and to wipe them with a towel wherewith He was girded."--JOHN xiii. 5.
In the court of the Temple there were two objects that arrested the eye
of the entering worshipper--the Brazen Altar, and the Laver. The
latter was kept always full of pure, fresh water, for the constant
washings enjoined by the Levitical code. Before the priests were
consecrated for their holy work, and attired in the robes of the sacred
office, they washed there (Ex. xxix. 4). Before they entered the Holy
Place in their ordinary ministry, and before Aaron, on the great Day of
Atonement, proceeded to the Most Holy Place, with blood, not his own,
it was needful to conform to the prescribed ablutions. "He shall bathe
his flesh in water" (Lev. xvi. 4).
First, then, the Altar, and then the Laver; the order is irreversible,
and the teaching of the types is as exact as mathematics. Hence, when
the writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews invites us to draw near, and
make our abode in the Most Holy Place, he carefully obeys the Divine
order, and bids us "draw near, with a true heart, in full assurance of
faith, having our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience, and our
bodies washed with pure water."
In this scene (John xiii. 1-14), on the eve of our Lord's betrayal, we
find the spiritual counterpart of the Laver, just as the Cross stands
for the Brazen Altar.
I. THE CIRCUMSTANCE THAT LED TO THIS ACT OF LOVE.--In order fully to
understand this touching incident, it is necessary to remember the
circumstances out of which it sprang. On the way from Bethany to the
upper room in which the Supper had been prepared, and on entering
therein, our Lord must have been deeply absorbed in the momentous
events in which He was to be the central figure; but He was not
unmindful of a contention which had engaged His disciples, for they had
been disputing one with another as to which of them should be the
greatest. The proud spirit of the flesh, which so often cursed the
little group, broke out in this awful hour with renewed energy, as
though the prince of this world would inflict a parting blow on his
great Antagonist, through those whom He loved best. It was as if he
said, "See the results of Thy tears and teachings, of Thy prayers and
pleadings; the love which Thou hast so often inculcated is but a
passing sentiment, that has never rooted itself in the soil of these
wayward hearts. It is a plant too rare and exotic for the climate of
earth. Take it back with Thee to Thine own home if Thou wilt, but seek
not to achieve the impossible." It was heartrending that this
exhibition of pride should take place just at this juncture. These
were the men who had been with Him in His temptations, who had had the
benefit of His most careful instructions, who had been exposed to the
full influence of His personal character; and yet, notwithstanding all,
the rock-bed of pride, that cast the angels down from heaven, that led
to the fall of man, obtruded itself. This occasion in which it
manifested itself was very inopportune; already the look of Calvary was
on the Saviour's face, and the sword entering His heart. Surely, they
must have been aware that the shadow of the great eclipse was already
passing over the face of their Sun. But even this did not avail to
restrain the manifestation of their pride. Heedless of three years of
example and teaching; unrestrained by the symptoms of our Lord's
sorrow; unchecked by the memory of happy and familiar intercourse,
which should have bound them forever in a united brotherhood, they
wrangled with high voices and hot faces, with the flashing eye and
clenched fist of the Oriental, as to who should be first.
And if pride thus asserted itself after _such_ education, and under
_such_ circumstances, let us be sure that it is not far away from any
one of us. We do not now contend, in so many words, for the chief
places; courtesy, politeness, fear of losing the respect of our
fellows, restrain us. But our resentment to the fancied slight, or the
assumption by another of work which we thought our own; our sense of
hurtness when we are put aside; our jealousy and envy; our detracting
speeches, and subtle insinuations of low motive, all show how much of
this loveless spirit rankles in our hearts. We have been planted in
the soil of this world, and we betray its flavor; we have come of a
proud stock, we betray our heredity.
II. LOVE'S SENSITIVENESS TO SIN ON THE PART OF ITS BELOVED.--Consider
these epithets of the love of Christ:
_It was unusually tender_.--When the hour of departure approaches,
though slight reference be made to it, love lives with the sound of the
departing wheels, or the scream of the engine, always in its ear; and
there are given a tenderness to the tone, a delicacy to the touch, a
thoughtfulness for the heartache of those from which it is to be
parted, which are of inexpressible beauty. All that was present with
Christ. He was taking that Supper with them before He suffered. He
knew that He would soon depart out of this world unto the Father; His
ear was specially on the alert; His nature keenly alive; His heart
thrilling with unusual tenderness, as the sands slowly ran out from the
hour-glass.
_It was supreme love_.--"Having loved His own that were in the world,
He loved them unto the end." Those last words have been thought to
refer to the end of life, but it surely were superfluous to tell us
that the strong waters of death could not quench the love of the Son of
Man. When once He loves, He loves always. It is needless to tell us
that the Divine heart which has enshrined a soul will not forsake it;
that the name of the beloved is never erased from the palms of the
hands, that the covenant is not forgotten though eternity elapse. Of
course Christ loves to the end, even though that end reaches to
endlessness. We do not need to be assured that the Immortal Lover, who
has once taken us up to union with Himself, can never loose His hold.
Therefore it is better to adopt the alternative suggested by the margin
of the Revised Version, "He loved them to the uttermost." There was
nothing to be desired. Nothing was needed to fill out the ideal of
perfect love. Not a stitch was required for the needle-work of wrought
gold; not a touch demanded for the perfectly achieved picture; not a
throb additional to the strong pulse of affection with which He
regarded His own.
It is very wonderful that He should have loved such men like this. As
we pass them under review at this time of their life, they seem a
collection of nobodies, with the exception perhaps of John and Peter.
But they were His own, there was a special relationship between Him and
them. They had belonged to the Father, and He had given them to the
Son as His special perquisite and belonging. "Thine they were, and
Thou gavest them Me." May we dare, in this meaning, to apply to Christ
that sense of proprietorship, which makes a bit of moorland waste, a
few yards of garden-ground, dear to the freeholder?
"Breathes there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own . . .?"
It was because these men were Christ's own, that the full passion of
His heart set in toward them, and He loved them to the utmost bound;
that is, the tides filled the capacity of the ocean-bed of possibility.
_It was bathed in the sense of His Divine origin and mission_.--The
curtain was waxing very thin. It was a moment of vision. There had
swept across His soul a realization of the full meaning of His
approaching triumph. He looked back, and was hardly conscious of the
manger where the horned oxen fed, the lowly birth, the obscure years,
in the sublime conception that He had come forth from God. He looked
forward, and was hardly conscious of the cross, the nail, the
thorn-crown, and the spear, because of the sublime consciousness that
He was stepping back, to go to Him with whom He realized His identity.
He looked on through the coming weeks, and knew that the Father had
given all things into His hands. What the devil had offered as the
price of obeisance to himself, that the Father was about to give Him,
nay, had already given Him, as the price of His self-emptying. And if
for a moment He stooped, as we shall see He did, to the form of a
servant, it was not because of any failure to recognize His high
dignity and mission, but with the sense of Godhead quick on His soul.
The love which went out toward this little group of men had Deity in
it. It was the love of the Throne, of the glory He had with the Father
before the worlds were, of that which now fills the bosom of His
ascended and glorified nature.
_He was aware of the task to which He was abandoning these men_.--He
knew that as He was the High Priest over the house of God, they were
its priests. He knew that cleansing was necessary before they could
receive the anointing of the Holy Ghost. He knew that the great work
of carrying forward His Gospel was to be delegated to their hands. He
knew that they were to carry the sacred vessels of the Gospel, which
must not be blurred or fouled by contact with human pride or
uncleanness. He knew that the very mysteries of Gethsemane and Calvary
would be inexplicable, and that none might stand on that holy hill,
save those that had clean hands and a pure heart; and because of all
this, He turned to them, by symbol and metaphor, to impress upon their
heart and memory the necessity of participating in the cleansing of
which the Laver is the type.
The highest love is ever quickest to detect the failures and
inconsistencies of the beloved. Just because of its intensity, it can
be content with nothing less than the best, because the best means the
blessedest; and it longs that the object of its thought should be most
blessed forever. It is a mistake to think that green-eyed jealousy is
quickest to detect the spots on the sun, the freckles on the face, and
the marring discords in the music of the life; love is quicker, more
microscopic, more exacting that the ideal should be achieved. Envy is
content to indicate the fault, and leave it; but love detects, and
waits and holds its peace until the fitting opportunity arrives, and
then sets itself to remove, with its own tenderest ministry, the defect
which had spoiled the completeness and beauty of its object.
Perhaps there had never been a moment in the human consciousness of our
Lord, when, side by side with this intense love for His own, there had
been so vivid a sense of oneness with His Father, of His unity with the
source of Infinite Purity and Blessedness. We might have supposed that
this would have alienated Him from His poor friends, but in this our
thoughts are not as His. Just because of His awful holiness, He was
quick to perceive the unholiness of His friends, and could not endure
it, and essayed to rid them of it. Just because of His Divine goodness
He could detect the possibilities of goodness in them, and be patient
enough to give it culturing care.
The most perfect musician may be most tortured by incompetence; but he
will be most likely to detect true merit, and give time to its
training. "The powerfullest magnet will pick out, in the powdered dust
of the ironstone, fine particles of metal that a second or third-rate
magnet would fail to draw to itself." Do not dread the awful holiness
of Jesus; it is your hope. He will never be content till He has made
you like Himself; and side by side with His holiness, never fail to
remember His gentle, tender love.
III. THE DIVINE HUMILITY, THAT COPES WITH HUMAN SIN.--"He riseth from
supper, and layeth aside His garments; and He took a towel and girded
Himself." This is what the apostle calls taking upon Himself the form
of a servant. The charm of the scene is its absolute simplicity. You
cannot imagine Christ posturing to the ages. There was no aiming at
effect, no thought of the beauty or humility of the act, as there is
when the Pope yearly washes the feet of twelve beggars, from a golden
basin, wiping them with a towel of rarest fabric! Christ did not act
thus for show or pretence, but with an absolutely single purpose of
fulfilling a needed office. And in this He set forth the spirit of our
redemption.
_This is the key to the Incarnation_.--With slight alteration the words
will read truly of that supreme act. He rose from the throne, laid
aside the garments of light which He had worn as His vesture, took up
the poor towel of humanity, and wrapped it about His glorious Person;
poured His own blood into the basin of the Cross, and set Himself to
wash away the foul stains of human depravity and guilt.
As pride was the source of human sin, Christ must needs provide an
antidote in His absolute humility--a humility which could not grow
beneath these skies, but must be brought from the world where the
lowliest are the greatest, and the most childlike reign as kings.
_This is the key to every act of daily cleansing_.--We have been
washed. Once, definitely, and irrevocably, we have been bathed in the
crimson tide that flows from Calvary. But we need a daily cleansing.
Our feet become soiled with the dust of life's highways; our hands
grimy, as our linen beneath the rain of filth in a great city; our lips
are fouled, as the white doorstep of the house, by the incessant throng
of idle, unseemly and fretful words; our hearts cannot keep unsoiled
the stainless robes with which we pass from the closet at morning
prime. Constantly we need to repair to the Laver to be washed. But do
we always realize how much each act of confession, on our part,
involves from Christ, on His? Whatever important work He may at that
moment have on hand; whatever directions He may be giving to the
loftiest angels for the fulfillment of His purposes; however pressing
the concerns of the Church or the universe upon His broad shoulders, He
must needs turn from all these to do a work He will not delegate.
Again He stoops from the throne, and girds Himself with a towel, and,
in all lowliness, endeavors to remove from thee and me the strain which
His love dare not pass over. He never loses the print of the nail; He
never forgets Calvary and the blood; He never spends one hour without
stooping to do the most menial work of cleansing filthy souls. And it
is because of this humility He sits on the Throne and wields the
sceptre over hearts and worlds.
_This is the key to our ministry to each other_.--I have often thought
that we do not often enough wash one another's feet. We are conscious
of the imperfections which mar the characters of those around us. We
are content to note, criticise, and learn them. We dare not attempt to
remove them. This failure arises partly because we do not love with a
love like Christ's--a love which will brave resentment, annoyance,
rebuke, in its quest,--and partly because we are not willing to stoop
low enough.
None can remove the mote of another, so long as the beam is left in the
eye, and the sin unjudged in the life, None can cleanse the stain, who
is not willing to take the form of a servant, and go down with bare
knees upon the floor. None is able to restore those that are overtaken
in a fault, who do not count themselves the chief of sinners and the
least of saints.
We need more of this lowly, loving spirit: not so sensitive to wrong
and evil as they affect us, as anxious for the stain they leave on the
offender. It is of comparatively small consequence how much we suffer;
it is of much importance that none of Christ's disciples should be
allowed to go on for a moment longer, with unconfessed and unjudged
wrongs clouding their peace, and hindering the testimony which they
might give. Let us therefore watch for each other's souls: let us
consider one another to provoke to love and good works; let us in all
sincerity do as Christ has done, washing each other's feet in all
humility and tender love. But this spirit is impossible save through
fellowship with the Lamb of God, and the reception of His holy, humble
nature into the inmost heart, by the Holy Ghost.
II
Thrice Bidden to Love
"A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have
loved you, that ye also love one another."--JOHN xiii. 34.
Anacreon complains that when they asked him to sing of heroic deeds, he
could only sing of love. But the love with which he fills his sonnets
will bear as much comparison with that of which Jesus spoke in His last
discourse, as the flaring oil of a country fair with the burning of the
heavenly constellations. Even the love that binds young hearts is too
selfish and exclusive to set forth that pure ray which shone from the
heart of the Son of Man, and shines and will shine. What word shall we
use to describe it?
_Charity?_--The disposition denoted by this great word does not fulfill
the measure of the love of Christ. It is cold and severe. It can be
organized. It casts its dole to the beggar and turns away, content to
have relieved the sentiment of pity. By being employed for one
manifestation of love, charity is too limited and restricted in its
significance to become an adequate expression of the Divine love which
Drought Jesus from the throne, and should inspire us to lay down our
lives for the brethren.
_Philanthropy?_--This is a great word, "the love of man." And yet the
philanthropist is too often content with the general patronage of good
works, the elaboration of schemes, the management of committees, to do
much personal work for the amelioration of the world. The word is
altogether too distant, too deficient in the personal element, too
extensive in its significance. It will not serve to represent the
Divine compassion with which the heart of Christ was, at the moment of
speaking, in tumult.
_Complacency?_--No; for this is the emotion excited by the
contemplation of merit and virtue, which turns away from sin and
deformity; and the sentiment denoted by our Master's words is one that
is not brought into existence by virtue, nor extinguished by demerit
and vice.
Since all these words fail, we are driven to speak of love, as Christ
used the word, as being the essence of the Divine nature, for God is
love. It is the indwelling of God in the soul. It is the transmitting
through our lives of that which we have received in fellowship with the
uncreated glory of the Divine Being. That which was in the beginning
between the Father and the Son; that which constrained our Emmanuel to
sojourn in this world of sin; that which inspired His sacrifice; that
which dwells perennially in His heart, vanquishing time and distance;
which overflows all expressions, and defies definition--is the love of
which these words speak, and which we are commanded to entertain toward
each other.
_It is a commandment_: "These things I command you." "This is His
commandment: that we should believe in the name of His Son Jesus
Christ, and love one another even as He gave us commandment."
Obviously, then, obedience must be possible. Christ had gauged our
nature not only as Creator, but by personal experience. He knew what
was in man. The possibilities of our nature were well within His
cognizance; therefore it must be possible for us to love one another
qualitatively, if not quantitatively, as He has loved us. Do not sit
down before this great command and say it is impossible; that were to
throw discredit on Him who spake it. Dare to believe that no word of
His is vain. He descries eminences of attainment which it is possible
for us all to reach: let us surrender ourselves to Him, that He should
fulfill in us His ideal, and make us experts in the science of love.
_It is a new commandment_.--Archbishop Ussher on a memorable occasion
called it the eleventh. It is recorded that having heard of the
simplicity and beauty of the ordering of Rutherford's home, he resolved
to visit it for himself. One Saturday night he arrived alone at the
Manse, and asked for entertainment over the next day. A simple but
hearty welcome was accorded him; and after partaking of the frugal
fare, he was invited to join the household in religious exercises which
ushered in the Lord's day.
"How many commandments are there?" the master asked his guest, wholly
unaware who he was.
"Eleven," was the astonishing reply; at which the very servants were
scandalized, regarding the newcomer as a prodigy of ignorance. But the
man of God perceived the rare light of character and insight which
gleamed beneath the answer, and asked for a private interview. This
issued in the invitation to preach on the following day. To the
amazement of the household, so scandalized on the previous night, the
stranger appeared in the master's pulpit, and announced the words on
which we are meditating as his text, adding, "This may be described as
the eleventh commandment."
_Obedience to this fulfills the rest_.--Love is the fulfilling of the
law. Do we need to be told to have no other gods but God, to forbear
taking His name in vain, and to devote one day in seven to the
cultivation of a closer relationship with Him, if we love Him with all
our soul and mind and strength? Do we need to be warned against
killing our neighbor, stealing his goods, or bearing false witness
against his character, if we love him as ourselves? Only let a man be
filled with this divine disposition which is the unique characteristic
of God; let him be filled with the spirit of love; let him be perfected
in love, and, almost unconsciously, he will not only be kept from
infringing the prohibitions of the law of Sinai, but will be inspired
to fulfill the requirements of the Mount of Beatitudes. Love, and do
as you like. You will like to do only what God would like you to do.
_There is a very important purpose to be realized in obeying this
command_.--"By this shall all men know that ye are My disciples, if ye
have love one to another." Every Church claims to be the true
representative of Christ. The Eastern, because it occupies the lands
where Christianity was cradled. The Roman Catholic, because it
professes to be able to trace its orders to the apostles. But, amid
the hubbub of rival claims, the world, unconvinced, still awaits the
emergence of the true Bride of the Lamb. The one note of the true
Church is Love. When once men of different nationalities and countries
behold its manifestation, they do not hesitate to acknowledge the
presence of God, and to admit that those who are animated by perfect
love to Him and to one another constitute a unique organization, which
cannot have originated in the will or intellect of man, but, like the
New Jerusalem, must have come out of heaven from God. So sublime, so
transcendent, so unearthly is love, that its presence is significant of
the handiwork of God, as the fire that burned in the bush indicated
that the "I AM" was there.
Love is a supreme test, not only of the Church, but of the individual.
It has been the mistake of every age to make faith rather than love the
test of Christianity. "Tell me how much a man believes, and I shall
know how good a Christian he is!" The whole endeavor of the mediaeval
Church was to reduce the followers of Christ to a uniformity of belief.
And in our own time, a man is permitted by consent to be grasping after
money, imperious in temper, uncharitable in speech, without losing
position in the Church, so long as he assents to all the clauses of an
orthodox creed.
With Christ, however, love is all-important. A man may have faith
enough to remove mountains, but if he have not love, he is nothing, and
lighter than vanity in the estimation of heaven. Faith ranks with hope
and love, but it is destined to pass as the blossoms of spring before
the fruit of autumn, whilst love shall abide forevermore. A man may
have a very inadequate creed; like the woman of old, he may think there
is virtue in a garment, or a rite; like Thomas, he may find it
impossible to attain to the exuberant confidence of his brethren; but
if he loves Christ enough to be prepared to die for Him, if through the
narrow aperture of a very limited faith, love enough has entered his
soul from the source of love, Christ will entrust him with the tending
of His sheep and lambs, and call him into the secret place. Of course,
the more full-orbed and intelligent our faith, the quicker and intenser
will be our love. But faith, after all, is but the hand that takes,
whilst love is the fellowship of kindred hearts that flash each on the
other the enkindling gleam.
If you do not love, though you count yourself illumined with the light
of perfect knowledge, you are in the dark. "He that hateth his brother
is in the darkness, even until now."
If you do not love, you are dead. "He that loveth not, abideth in
death." The light sparkle of intellectual or emotional life may light
up your words, and fascinate your immediate circle of friends, but
there will be no life toward God. Love is the perfect tense of live.
Whoso does not love does not live, in the deepest sense. There are
capacities for richer existence that never unfold until love stands at
the portal and sounds his challenge, and summons the sleeper to awake
and arise.
If you do not love, you are under the thrall of the devil, into whose
dark nature love never comes. "Herein the children of God are manifest
and the children of the devil. Cain was of the wicked one, and slew
his brother."
"As I have loved you." Life is one long education to know the love of
God. "We have known and believed the love that God hath to us," is the
reflection of an old man reviewing the past. Each stage of life, each
phase of experience, is intended to give us a deeper insight into the
love wherewith we are loved; and as each discovery breaks upon our glad
vision, we are bidden to exemplify it to others. Does Jesus forgive to
the seventy-seventh time? We must forgive in the same measure. Does
Jesus forget as well as forgive? We, too, must forgive after the same
fashion. Does Jesus seek after the erring, and endeavor to induce the
temper of mind that will crave forgiveness? We also must seek the man
who has transgressed against us, endeavoring to lead him to a better
mind. The Christian knows no law or limit but that imposed by these
significant words, spoken on the eve of Christ's sacrifice, "As I have
loved you."
Thus all life gives opportunities for the practice of this celestial
temper and disposition. It has been said that talent develops in
solitude, whilst character is made in the strain of life. Be it so.
Then the character of loving may be made stronger by every association
we have with our fellows. Each contact with men, women, and children,
may give us an opportunity of loving with a little more of the
strength, purity, and sweetness of the love of Christ. The busiest
life can find time for the cultivation of this spirit. That which is
spent in a crowd will even have greater opportunities than the one
which is limited to solitude. The distractions and engagements that
threaten to break our lives up to a number of inconsiderable fragments
may thus conduce to a higher unity than could be gained by following
one occupation, or concentrating ourselves on one object.
Let us gird up the loins of our minds, and resolve to seek a baptism of
love from the Holy Ghost, that we may be perfected in love; that we may
love God first, and all else in Him, ascending from our failures to a
more complete conformity to the love wherewith He has loved us;
embracing the sinful and erring in the compass of our compassion, as we
embrace the Divine and Eternal in the compass of our adoration and
devotion.
III
Heaven Delayed, but Guaranteed
"Simon Peter said unto Him, Lord, whither goest Thou? Jesus answered
him. Whither I go, thou canst not follow Me now; but thou shalt follow
Me afterward."--JOHN xiii. 36.
These chapters are holy ground. The last words of our dearest, spoken
in the seclusion of the death-chamber to the tear-stained group
gathered around, are not for all the world, and are recorded only to
those whose love makes them able to appreciate. And what are these
words that now begin to flow from the Master's lips, but His last to
His own? They were held back so long as Judas was there. There was a
repression caused by his presence which hindered the interchange of
confidences; but, when he was gone, love hastened to her secret stores,
and drew forth her choicest, rarest viands to share them, that they
might be in after days a strength and solace.
This marvellous discourse, which begins in chapter xiii. 31, continues
through chapters xiv., xv., xvi., and closes in the sublime prayer of
chapter xvii. Better that all the literature of the world should have
shared the fate of the Alexandrian library, than that these precious
words should have been lost amid the fret of the ages.
The Lord commences His discourse by speaking of His speedy departure.
"Little children," He said, using a term which indicated that He felt
toward them a parental tenderness, and spoke as a dying father might
have done to the helpless babes that gathered around his bed, "I am to
be with you for a very little time longer; the sand has nearly run out
in the hour-glass. I know you will seek Me; your love will make you
yearn to be with Me where I am, to continue the blessed intimacy, the
ties which within the last few weeks have been drawn so much closer;
but it will not be possible. As I said to the Jews, so must I say to
you, Whither I go, ye cannot come." He then proceeds to give them a
new commandment of love, as though He said: "The _cannot_ which
prevents you following Me now is due to a lack of perfect love on your
part, as well as for other reasons; it is necessary, therefore, that
you wait to acquire it, ere you can be with Me where I am."
Simon Peter hardly hears Him uttering these last words; he is pondering
too deeply what he has just heard, and calls the Master back to that
announcement, as though He had passed it with too light a tread: "Going
away! Lord, whither goest Thou?" To that question our Lord might have
given a direct answer: "Heaven! The Father's bosom! The New
Jerusalem! The City of God!" Any of these would have been sufficient;
but instead He says in effect: "It is a matter of comparative
indifference whither I go; I have no wish to feed curiosity with
descriptions of things in the heavens, which you could not understand."
The main point for you, in this brief life, is so to become assimilated
to Me in humility, devotion, likeness, and character, that you may be
able to be My companion and friend in those new paths on which I am
entering, as you have been in those which I am now leaving. "Whither I
go, thou canst not follow Me now; but thou shalt follow Me afterward."
The words staggered Peter; he could not understand what Christ meant;
he could not see how much had to be done before he could share in
Christ's coming glory. He made the same mistake as James and John had
done before, and wanted the throne, without perceiving that it was
conditioned on fellowship in the cup and the baptism into death. With
deep emotion he persisted in his inquiries: "Why cannot I follow Thee
now? There is no place on earth to which I would not go with Thee.
Have I not already left all to follow Thee? Have I not been with Thee
on the Transfiguration Mount, as well as in Thy journeyings? There is
but one experience through which I have not passed with Thee, and that
is death; but if that stands next in Thy life-plan, I will lay down my
life for Thy sake. Anything to be with Thee."
How little Peter knew himself! How much better did Christ know him.
"What! dost thou profess thyself willing to die with Me? Verily,
verily, I say unto thee, thou shalt deny Me thrice, between now and
cock-crow to-morrow morning." These words silenced Peter for all the
evening afterward. He does not appear to have made another remark, but
was absorbed in heart-breaking grief: though all the while there rang
in his heart those blessed words of hope: "Whither I go, thou canst not
follow Me now; but thou shalt follow Me afterward"--words which our
Lord caught up and expanded for the comfort of them all, who now with
Peter for the first time realized that they were about to be parted
from Jesus, and were almost beside themselves with grief: "Let not your
heart be troubled. . . ."
I. THE DESIRE TO BE WITH CHRIST.--This was paramount. These simple men
had little thought of heaven as such. If Christ had begun to speak of
golden pavement, gates of pearl, and walls of chrysolite, they would
have turned from His glowing words with the one inquiry, "Wilt Thou be
there?" If that question had been answered uncertainly, they would
have turned away heart-sick, saying: "If Thou art not there, we have no
desire for it; but if Thou wert in the darkest, dreariest spot in the
universe, it would be heaven to us."
There were three desires, the strands of which were woven in this one
yearning desire and prayer to be with Christ. They wanted His love,
His teaching, His leading into full, richer life. And is not this our
position also? We want Christ, not hereafter only, but here and now,
for these three self-same reasons.
_We want His love._--There is no love like His--so pure and constant
and satisfying. What the sun is to a star-light, and the ocean to a
pool left by the retiring tide, such is the love of Jesus compared with
all other love. To have it is superlative blessedness; to miss it is
to thirst forever.
_We want His light._--He speaks words that cast light on the mysteries
of existence, on the dark problems of life, on the perplexing questions
which are perpetually knocking at our doors.
_We want His life._--Fuller and more abundant life is what we crave.
It is of life that our veins are scant. We desire to have the mighty
tides of divine life always beating strongly within us, to know the
energy, vigor, vitality of God's life in the soul. And we are
conscious that this is to be found only in Him.
Therefore we desire to be with Him, to drink deeper into His
fellowship, to know Him and the power of His resurrection, to be
brought into an abidingness from which we shall never recede. We have
known Christ after the flesh; we desire to know Him after the Spirit.
We have known Him in humiliation; we want to know Him in His glory. We
have known Him as the Lamb of the Cross; we want to know Him as the
Divine Man on the throne.
II. THE FATAL OBSTACLE TO THE IMMEDIATE GRANTING OF THESE
DESIRES.--"Thou canst not follow Me _now_." There is thus a difference
in His words to His disciples, and those to the Jews. These also were
told that they could not follow Him, but the word now was omitted.
There was no hope held out to them of the great gulf being bridged.
That was the _cannot_ of moral incompatibility; this, of temporary
unfitness, which by the grace of God would finally pass away, and the
whole of their aspirations be realized (John vii. 34; viii. 21).
It is easy to see why Peter was unfit for the deeper realization of
Christ in His resurrection. Our Lord had just spoken of being
glorified through death. It was as Judas left the chamber, intent on
his betrayal, that Jesus said, "Now is the Son of Man glorified!" He
saw that the hidden properties of His being could only be unfolded and
uttered through death and resurrection. But Peter had little sympathy
with this; he might avow his determination to die, but he had never
really entered into the meaning of death, and all it might involve.
He could not detect evil. The traitor was beside him; but he had to
ask the beloved disciple to elicit from Jesus who it might be by whom
the Master would be betrayed.
He was out of sympathy with the Lord's humiliation, so that he chode
with Him for stooping to wash his feet; and if he could not understand
the significance and necessity of this lowly deed of love, how could he
enter into the spirit of that life which was planted in death, and
which bore even in resurrection the print of the nails?
He strove with the rest for the primacy. Who should be the greatest?
was the question that agitated them, as the other evangelists tell us,
in that solemn hour. And none that was possessed with that spirit of
pride and emulation could be in harmony with that blessed world where
the greatest are the lowliest, the highest the least, and the King set
on the right hand of power, because more capable of humbling Himself
than any beside.
But, besides all this, Peter was animated by the strong spirit of
self-assertion and determination. Always on the lake shore he had been
able to get to the front by his stronger voice, and broader shoulders,
and more vehement manner. Why should he not do the same now? Why
could he not keep pace with Christ even through the dark valley, and
accompany Him through unknown worlds?
It cannot be, said Christ; you are too strong in your carnal strength,
too self-reliant, too confident. It is not possible for you to be with
Me, in the life that springs from death, and to which death is the
door, till you have deeply drunk into the spirit of My death. You are
too strong to follow Me when I descend to the lowest on My way to the
highest; I must take for My companion now a forgiven malefactor; but I
will some day come for you, and receive you to Myself.
So Peter had to be broken on the wheel of a servant-girl's question,
and humbled to the dust. In those bitter hours he was thoroughly
emptied of his old proud, self-reliant, vain-glorious spirit, and
became as a little child.
This must be our path also. We must descend with Christ, if we would
ascend to sit at His side. We must submit to the laying of our pride
in the very dust. We must accept humiliations and mortifications, the
humblings of perpetual failure and shortcoming, the friction and fret
of infirmity and pain; and when we have come to an end of ourselves, we
shall begin to know Christ in a new and deeper fashion. He will pass
by and say, "Live!" The spirit of His life will enter into us; the
valley of Achor will become a door of hope, and we shall sing God's
glad new song of Hope. The ideal which had long haunted us, in our
blood, but unable to express itself, will burst into a perfect flower
of exquisite scent and hue.
III. THE CERTAINTY OF THE ULTIMATE GRATIFICATION OF EVERY DESIRE GOD
HAS IMPLANTED.--This is an absolute certainty, that God inserts no
desire or craving in our nature, for which there is no appropriate
gratification. The birds do not seek for food which is not ready for
them. The young lions do not ask for prey that is not awaiting them
somewhere in the forest glade. Hence the absoluteness of that
_shall_--"Thou _shalt_ follow Me afterward." It is as if Jesus said,
"I have taught you to love Me, and long after Me; and I will certainly
gratify the appetite which I have created."
Pentecost was the Divine fulfillment of all those conditions of which
we have been speaking. It was not enough that Peter should be an
emptied and broken man; he must become also a God-possessed, a
Spirit-filled man. Thus only could he be fitted to know Christ after a
spiritual sort, and to participate in His Resurrection Life. It was
surely to the Advent of the Holy Ghost that our Lord referred in that
significant _afterward_.
We too must seek our share in Pentecost. Do not be content with "Not
I"; go on to say, "but Christ." Do not be satisfied with the emptying
of the proud self-life; seek the infilling of the Holy Spirit. Do not
stop at the cross, or the grave; hasten to the upper room, where the
disciples are baptized in fire and glory. The Holy Spirit will enable
you to abide in Christ, because He will bring Christ to abide in you;
and life, through His dear grace, shall be so utterly imbued with
fellowship with the blessed Lord, that, whether present or absent, you
will live together with Him. It is the man who is really filled with
the Spirit of God who can follow Jesus, as Peter afterward did, to
prison and to death, who can drink of the cup of which He drank, and be
baptized with the baptism with which He was baptized.
"Why should I fear?" asked Basil, of the Roman prefect. "Nothing you
have spoken of has any effect upon me. He that hath nothing to lose is
not afraid of _confiscation_. You cannot banish me, for the earth is
the Lord's. As to _torture_, the first stroke would kill me, and _to
kill me is to send me to glory_."
IV
"Many Mansions"
"I go to prepare a place for you."--JOHN xiv. 2.
The cure for heart-trouble, when the future is full of dread, is
faith--faith directed to Jesus; and just such faith as we give God, for
He is God. He has shown Himself well worthy of that trust; all His
paths toward us have been mercy and truth; and we may therefore safely
rest upon His disclosures of that blessed life, of which the present is
the vestibule. "Let not your heart be troubled," He says, "ye believe
in God, believe also in Me." Or it might be rendered, "Believe in God,
believe also in Me."
Let us listen to Him, as He discourses of the Father's house and its
many mansions.
_Heaven is a home._--"My Father's house." What magic power lies in
that word! It will draw the wanderer from the ends of the earth; will
nerve the sailor, soldier, and explorer with indomitable endurance;
will bring a mist of tears to the eyes of the hardened criminal, and
soften the heart of stone. One night in the trenches of the Crimea the
bands played "Home, sweet Home," and a great sob went through the army.
But what makes home home? Not the mere locality or building; but the
dear ones that lived there once, now scattered never to be reunited,
only one or two of whom are still spared. It was father's house,
though it was only a shepherd's shieling; he dwelt there, and mother,
and our brothers and sisters. And where they dwell, or where wife and
child dwell, there is home.
Such is Heaven. Think of a large family of noble children, of all
ages, from the little child to the young man beginning his business
career, returning after long severance to spend a season together in
the old ancestral home, situated in its far-reaching grounds, and you
can form some idea of what it will be, when the whole Family of the
Redeemed gather in the Father's house. All reserve, all shyness, all
restraint gone forever. God has given us all the memory of what home
was, that we may guess at what awaits us, and be smitten with
homesickness. As the German proverb puts it: "Blessed are the
homesick, for they shall reach home."
_Heaven is very spacious._--There are "_many_ mansions." There is no
stint in its accommodation. In the olden Temple there were spacious
courts, long corridors, and innumerable chambers, in which a vast
multitude could find a home day and night. The children trooped about
and sang around their favorite teacher. The blind and lame sheltered
themselves from heat or storm. The priests and Levites in great
numbers lived there. All of this probably suggested the Master's words.
Heaven too will contain immense throngs, without being crowded. It
will teem with innumerable hosts of angels, and multitudes of the
redeemed which no man can number. Its children will be as the grains
of sand that bar the ocean's waves, or the stars that begem the vault
of night. But it can easily hold these, and myriads more. Yet there
is room! As age after age has poured in its crowds, still the cry has
gone forth, There is still room! The many mansions are not all
tenanted. The orchestra is not full. The complement of priests is not
complete.
Do not believe those little souls, who would make you believe that
Heaven is a little place for a select few. If they come to you with
that story, tell them to begone! tell them that they do not know your
Father's heart; tell them that all He does must be worthy of Himself.
Jesus shall see of the travail of His soul, and be satisfied.
_Heaven is full of variety._--It is not like one great hall; there are
myriads of adjacent rooms, "mansions," which will be fitted up, so to
speak, differently. One for the sweet singer, another for the little
ones and their teachers, another for the student of the deep mysteries
of the Kingdom, another for those who may need further instruction in
the mysteries of God.
Heaven's life and scenery are as various as the aptitudes and
capacities of souls. Its music is not a monotone, but a chorale. It
is as a home, where the parents delight to develop the special tastes
of their children. This is surely what Jesus meant when He said, "I go
to prepare a place for you." He is ever studying our special
idiosyncrasies--what we need most, and can do best; and when He has
ascertained it, He suits our mansion accordingly.
When a gardener is about to receive some rare exotic, he prepares a
place where it will flower and fruit to the best advantage. The
naturalist who is notified of the shipment of some new specimen,
prepares a habitat as suited as possible to its peculiarities. The
mother, whose son is returning from sea, prepares a room in which his
favorite books and pictures are carefully placed, and all else that her
pondering heart can devise to give him pleasure. So our Lord is
anxious to give what is best in us its most suitable nourishment and
training. And He will keep our place against our coming. It will not
suit another, and will not be given to another.