"And be ye kind one to another, tender hearted, forgiving one another,
even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you." Ephesians iv. 32.
A tender heart is the kind boon of heaven, and forgiveness is a virtue
too little exercised in the common intercourse of life. Men are too
apt to be in character Pharisees. They are too apt to love those that
love them, and hate their enemies. Retaliation is inconsistent with
the spirit of the gospel, and is a vice deeply to be stigmatized and
deprecated by all lovers of peace and morality. By retaliation, we are
to understand the injuring of another because he has injured us. This
spirit of revenge betrays a contracted mind in which the feelings of
compassion and forbearance never found a permanent abode. A man of a
peevish, irritable and revengeful temperament, is to be pitied,
instead of being injured in return. By retaliating the evil he may
have done, you involve yourself in the same condition of meanness, and
in your turn become the injurer.
All those men, whose names are rendered illustrious and immortal, have
been distinguished for a spirit of forbearance, kindness and mercy.
Were there no examples of rashness--no failings and imperfections
among men, there would, then, be no opportunity to distinguish
ourselves by a spirit of forgiveness. God has so constituted the
present existence of his creatures, that the perfections of his divine
character might be manifested to them in the unchanging exercise of
his paternal compassion and forgiveness; and thus afford them an
opportunity to imitate himself in the exercise of those exalted
feelings, which emanate from heaven.
We are not, however, to understand that tenderness of heart and
forgiveness are to be exercised to the utter exclusion of the
principles of honor and justice. If our children offend, or our
dearest earthly friend do wrong, we are to manifest the feelings of
tenderness and forgiveness, but these ought not to induce us to
overlook their crimes or faults, by remaining silent in regard to
their vices. This would be suffering our compassion to degenerate into
weakness. It would in fact be hardness of heart. It would betray a
spirit of indifference to their dearest interest, as by our silence,
they might remain in blindness to the demerit of their deeds, and
hurry on to the ruin of their reputation, and consequently, of their
earthly happiness. True tenderness of heart makes us watchful over the
conduct of those we love, and with whom we are connected in life--
moves us to lay naked before them their faults, so that they may early
correct them, and thus inspires their hearts with tenderness, and
prompts them to regard the happiness, feelings and welfare of others.
It is immaterial how near and dear your friend may be, you should, by
the feelings of mercy, be induced to tell him his faults, however much
it may wound his heart. The wise man says "the wounds of a friend are
faithful; but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful." Too many parents,
for want of determination of character, and for suffering their
compassion to degenerate into weakness and remaining blind to the
faults of their children, having seen them come to some disgraceful
end--a state prison, or even the gallows. This, instead of being true
tenderness of heart, was infatuation and the worst species of hardness
and insensibility to the welfare of their offspring. On the other
hand, we ought never to suffer a spirit of revengeful indignation to
slumber in our bosoms, ready on every trivial occasion to awake into
resentment and retaliation. In fine, we ought to imitate our God in
feelings and conduct towards each other, as it is expressed in our
text. But many suppose that God is filled with feelings of revengeful
indignation towards his creatures, and that the period is rolling on
when he will cease to be merciful, and will commence torturing us in
the future world for the sins committed in this, and that too, when
punishment can do no good to the sufferer--when reformation will be
out of his reach. To torment a frail dependent creature, under such
circumstances, would be the most degrading species of revenge. And if
this is the conduct of God, then we must practice the same, because we
are commanded to imitate him. Our text says--"Be yea kind one to
another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another; even as God for
Christ's sake hath forgiven you."
In this passage, our Father in heaven is held up to the world as the
model of _kindness tenderness and forgiveness_, that mortals are to
imitate. God is the moral standard to which every bosom ought to
aspire. The highest perfection and loveliness of man fall infinitely
short of the intrinsic loveliness and divine perfection's of Jehovah.
If he is the standard of moral excellence which we are to imitate,
then we must admit that the copy far exceeds the imitation. If man is
called upon to act like God in order to improve his character and
affections, then God is better than man, and every opposing objection
must, forever, fall to the ground. Perhaps it may be said, that all
denominations of men allow him to be so. This is not correct. It is
true, they _say this_ in so many words. But words are one thing, and
what a doctrine involves is quite _another_. I might believe, and most
rigidly maintain, that an earthly father had prepared a palace of
comfort for his five _obedient_ children, and a furnace of fire to
torture his five _disobedient_ children; and suppose he had dealt with
his ten children as above stated;--with what propriety could I step
before the public, and contend that he was the best man in America?
Even were I persuaded, in my own mind, and firmly believed him to be
the best man in existence, would either my _belief or acknowledgment_
make it a fact? No; every man of common sense, and common humanity
would think me deranged. My saying that he was good, and even
believing him so, could not alter the awful reality, but would be an
evidence of my want of consistency and propriety. He would still be a
bad unfeeling man, and in no comparative sense so good as that father,
who should punish his children in mercy, and for their future
amendment and benefit.
But what is all this compared with the character that thousands
ascribe to the God, who rules above? It is no more than the drop to
the unmeasured ocean: because those five children would soon cease to
suffer; but God, they contend, will torture without mercy or end,
millions on millions of his poor dependent creatures for the sins of a
short life! The most abandoned, and unrelenting savage, that roams the
American forest--the worst wretch in human form would not do this, but
release, at length, the sufferer from pain. And those, who contend
that God will not release, but on the contrary involve the victim of
his ire deeper in who, attribute to him a character infinitely worse,
than the most cruel and degraded of our race, and no argument, to the
contrary, can be for one moment maintained. If a man desire the
holiness and happiness of all his fellow creatures, and would bring
them to a glorified state of beatitude in heaven, had he the power,
and still contends that God will not, it is elevating his goodness far
above the goodness of God. And for any man to come forward with this
acknowledgment on his lips, and yet address the benignant Parent of
all, and, in prayer, acknowledge him to be the best of all beings, is
only using words without propriety or meaning. There is no sense, no
reason in such logic. It completely contradicts itself, and what is
contradictory cannot be true.
Would you save all men from sin and its attendant misery if you could?
O yes, is the answer, I would, and carry them all in the arms of
unbounded benevolence to glory. Well, has God the power to do it? Yes,
is the reply. But do you believe that he will exert his power so as to
accomplish it? No says the objector, I believe that he will sentence a
large portion of his erring offspring to endless and inconceivable wo.
Very well; then you are the best being of the two. And it is a
melancholy circumstance to these unfortunate beings, that you are not
on the throne of the universe. If this be so, then our text ought to
be reversed. God ought to copy your tenderness, and forgive men as you
do! We are certainly called upon to conform our conduct to the best
standard, and to imitate the _best_ being. If you are the _best_, then
God and man ought to be called upon, and _entreated_ to imitate you!
No; says the objector, God is superlatively the best being in the
universe. You may talk, and tell me so, till the morning sun sinks
beyond the western hills, and yet your _creed_ will contradict every
word you utter. What you have just acknowledged, unchangeably stares
you in the face. You say, that you would forgive all, save them from
sin, and raise them to a blessed eternity, if you had the power. This
power, you say, God possesses, and yet you _believe_, and that he will
not do it. It is certainly an unfortunate circumstance to the human
family, if their Father in heaven is destitute of that goodness which
you feel! From whom did you receive all those compassionate feelings
of heart? Why says the objector, God gave them to me. But how can God
give you what he has not himself? If you possess more benevolence than
God, you could not have received it from him; because on this
principal he did not have it in possession to give. Surely he could
not communicate to you, or any other being, what he did not originally
possess. From what source, then, did you derive so much tenderness and
love? There must, certainly, be some being in the universe in whose
bosom is rooted as much benevolence and love as you feel, or how could
it have been communicated to you from another? Now, where did you get
it? God gave it to me, says the objector. This cannot be, because your
doctrine proves, that you have more love than the God who made you! If
you insist that he has given it to you, has he not in such case, given
you more than he originally possessed? He has. If so, endless misery
may be true; for on this principle he has none left!
The scriptures teach that "God is love"; and all his works speak the
same language--saying, "the Lord is good, and his mercies endure
forever." But how good is he? The doctrine of endless wrath says, he
is not as good as you. You are but a small stream from an infinite
ocean of love; and yet this little stream is greater than the ocean
from which it issues, and rises far above its fountain head! Can this
be true? Impossible. O, do you not perceive how your own feelings,
which you daily experience, contradict your creed! You feel, desire,
and pray for the salvation of all men, and if you had the power, all
your feelings, prayers and desires would be carried into execution.
And yet your doctrine denies, that God, the fountain, in which all
your affections originate and live, will do it;--and at the same time
you say, that you have no love only what he gave you! What
inconsistencies, contradictions and blindness are here! Man, a small
drop, from the benevolent fountain God, is willing to do, what the
source from whence he came is unwilling to do! Then a drop of love, in
the human bosom, is more tender and benevolent than an ocean in the
God, who placed it there!
We all know, that the fountain must be more extensive than the stream
it sends forth--yea, larger, than all its running streams put
together. This we know to be correct, as well as we know, that the sun
enlightens the world. Let us then collect these little streams into
one. Bring, if you please, into one body, the love and benevolence of
men and angels, of cherubim and seraphim--stretch your thoughts to
unnumbered worlds, extract the love from countless bosoms, and
condense the whole into one being. How great, lovely, and adorable,
would that creature be! Then, let the question be put to him--from
whence did you derive all those noble qualities of love, mercy and
goodness? He replies, _from my Father God_! Now, we must grant, that
God far exceeds him in goodness, because this noble creature is but an
emanation from him--and the good desires of this creature would be
equal to the good desires of the countless millions of men and angels
in all worlds; and could have no other intentions only those, which
goodness and mercy dictate--and goodness itself can do nothing
contrary to its own nature, any more than ice can burn or fire freeze.
This creature would desire the happiness of all; and yet even he is
but a small rivulet flowing from the crystal fountain of life and
being! This creature would institute a government _perfectly
merciful_; and mercy would, of course, require, that the _disobedient_
should be punished to bring them to _obedience_, and perfect them in
the same state of glorification and love with that being itself.
"God is _love_," and it, therefore, follows that he is _love_ to every
creature he has made, and it is utterly impossible that he can do any
thing contrary to his own nature. "He cannot deny himself." He will,
therefore, do all that love dictates. It is consistent with parental
love to punish for the good of its offspring, but not to punish
unmercifully. But inquires the objector, does God punish for the good
of his creatures? We will let Paul settle this question--Heb. Xii.
Chap. "For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son
whom he receiveth. But if ye be without chastisement, whereof _all_
are partakers, then are ye bastards and not sons. Furthermore, we have
had fathers of our flesh which corrected us, and we gave them
reverence; shall we not much rather be in subjection unto the Father
of spirits and live? For they verily for a few days chastened us after
their own pleasure, but he for our profit that we might be partakers
of his holiness. Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be
joyous, but grievous; nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceably
fruit of righteousness unto them that are exercised thereby." Now show
us, if you can, any punishment which God inflicts, that contradicts
his paternal goodness. It cannot be done. He has threatened and
inflicted _everlasting punishment_ upon nations, as such, but not a
solitary passage can be produced from Genesis to Revelations, where he
has threatened any individual with _everlasting_ punishment.
God is the adorable fountain of all tenderness, love, and compassion,
and no mother's son was imbued in the fount of mercy like his, who was
"the brightness of his glory and the express image of his
perfections." True, her yearnings over the babe of her bosom are
great; still they bear but little comparison to him who breathed those
feelings there. God compares himself to the mother. "Can a woman
forget her sucking child"? Woman, being of a more delicate formation
than man, possesses a mind susceptible of more fine, deep, and lasting
impressions than his. The affections of her soul, when fully roused
into action, and fixed upon their object, are deeper than those of
man, extend far beyond the compass line of his, and nobly range those
sequestered haunts--those delightful fields of mental felicity, where
his finest affections never penetrated. Let her heart once become
fixed upon its darling object, and it is immaterial in what situation
in life we contemplate her--whether prosperous or adverse, we behold
the same unshaken constancy, the same bright and burning flame. Her
love to her children is pure as the dew-drops of the morning, high as
the heavens and unchanging as the sun. It scorns dictation, bids
defiance to oppression, and never for one moment loses sight of its
object. No disappointments that cross her path, no scenes of adverse
fortune that darken her sky, can wrench it from her grasp, obscure it
from her vision, or tear assunder the silken cord that binds it to her
heart.
The truth of these remarks we see verified in that unwearied
watchfulness and care, which she exercises over her children in
supplying their countless, and ever varied little wants; in allaying
their little griefs, in soothing their tender hearts by the soft
whispers of encouragement and love; in hushing them to repose and in
watching over the slumbers of their pillow. Are her children exposed
to danger, and full in her view? Then no devouring flame, that wraps
her dwelling in destruction--no rolling surges that lash the foaming
main, can, in such a moment of peril, over-awe her spirit, or deter
her from rushing into the very jaws of death to save them. Are they
sick? Sleepless she sits beside their bed, and watches every breath
they draw. Are they racked with pain? Her soul inhales the pang; and
freely drinks at the same fount of agony, and breathes over them the
prayer of mercy. Love is that _attribute_ in her nature to which all
the _others_ are subservient. It is the _shrine_ at which they all
bow, the _centre_ to which they all gravitate. If her children do
wrong, she freely forgives.
Has God given the mother all these noble affections, and does he feel
less to his helpless, sinful and erring children? Let God answer--"Can
a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion
on the son of her womb? Yea, they may forget, yet will not I forget
thee."
[Concluded in our next.]