Let us consider the unparalleled greatness of Christ’s love.
I. IN THE OBJECTS OF HIS REGARD.
1. In the vastness of their number. He, indeed, knows their number, but it is beyond all human calculation. We admire local charity and extended philanthropy; but the widest range of human benevolence falls far short of the love of Christ, which flows through all nature, worlds, and generations. We are apt to limit the range of this love; but the love of the Redeemer could not be satisfied with a less number than that which no man could number.
2. In the depth of their degradation. If we could fathom the bottomless pit, we might tell the depth of human depravity and degradation. In such objects there was nothing attractive, but everything repulsive. Their moral pollution was contracted by acts of aggression against this Redeemer.
3. In their utter helplessness. No human power could have subdued their depravity. No human mercy could have removed their guilt. No human arm could have rescued them from their degradation.
II. IN THE MAGNITUDE OF HIS SACRIFICES.
1. That which He relinquished. “Being in the form of God He made Himself of no reputation.” He threw aside His original glory. Human conception is inadequate to the greatness of this sacrifice.
2. What He assumed. He condescended to be made one of us. If a man, having the power, were to assume the nature and form of a beast to deliver the brute creation from the “groaning” to which they are subject by reason of man’s sin, that would be an admirable sacrifice; but there would be no parallel between it and the love of Christ in this respect.
3. That which He sustained. Our sorrows, infirmities, sins.
III. IN THE ACTIVITY OF HIS SOLICITUDES. He was not idle--He went about doing good. Mark
1. The intensity of His designs. He sought the salvation of strangers, aliens, enemies.
2. In the fervour of His zeal. In a thousand instances the spark of our desire is never fanned into the flame of zeal. It was not so with the Redeemer.
3. In the constancy of His exertions. He shrunk not back in the day of battle. Once, and once only, for a moment, His nature seemed to shrink from the violence of the storm, when He said, “Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me!” But when His time was come, impelled by love, “He steadfastly set Himself to go to Jerusalem;” nay, He was “straitened” till His work was accomplished.
IV. IN THE DEPTH OF HIS HUMILIATION.
1. He stooped to the lowest grade of human society.
2. To be charged with the lowest crimes of human delinquency, thus bearing the reproach of His people.
3. To endure the vilest and most painful death that ever was inflicted on the lowest criminal. But though He died, He lives again: His love was stronger than death. He lives to execise it still; and we see its unparalleled greatness.
V. IN THE AMPLITUDE OF ITS BESTOWMENTS.
1. Upon the guilty unlimited pardon.
2. Upon the necessitous unlimited supplies.
3. Upon the redeemed unlimited glory.
VI. IN THE RICHES OF ITS ANTICIPATIONS. We anticipate
1. The absolute perfection of our intellectual and moral nature.
2. The uninterrupted enjoyment of the Redeemer’s presence.
3. The everlasting beatitudes of God himself.
Improvement:
1. What a ground of encouragement to the true penitent!
2. What a stimulus to the accepted believer!
3. What an aggravation of guilt is incurred by those who obstinately persist in sin! (J. Hunt.)
Love’s crowning deed
I. LOVE’S CROWNING DEED. There is a climax to everything, and the climax of love is to die for the beloved one. This is the ultima rule of love; its sails can find no further shore.
1. This is clear if we consider, that when a man dies for his friends, it proves
(1) His deep sincerity. Lip love is a thing to be questioned; too often is it a counterfeit. All are not hunters that blow the horn, all are not friends who cry up friendship; all is not gold that glitters, so it is not all love that feigneth affection. But we are sure he loves who dies for love.
(2) The intensity of his affection. A man may make us feel that he is intensely in earnest when he speaks with burning words, and he may perform many actions which may all appear to show how intense he is, and yet for all that he may but be a skilful player, but when a man dies for the cause he has espoused, you know that he is no superficial passion.
(3) The thorough self-abnegation of the heart. If I profess to love a certain person, and yet in no way deny myself for his sake, such love is contemptible. After all, the value of a thing in the market is what a man will give for it, and you must estimate the value of a man’s love by that which he is willing to give up for it. Greater love for friends hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for them. “Hereby perceive we the love of God, because He laid down His life for us.”
2. Death for its object is the crowning deed of love because
(1) It excels all other deeds. Jesus Christ had proved His love by dwelling among His people as their Brother, by participating in their poverty as their friend, by telling them all He knew of the Father, by the patience with which He bore with their faults, by the miracles He wrought on their behalf, and the honour which He put upon them by using them in His service; but none of these can for a moment endure comparison with His dying for them. These life actions of His love are bright as stars, but yet they are only stars compared with this sun of infinite love.
(2) It comprehends all other acts, for when a man lays down his life for his friend he has laid down everything else. Give up life, and you have given up wealth, position, enjoyment. Hence the force of that reasoning, “He that spared not His own Son,” etc.
(3) After a man has died for another, there can be no question raised about his love. Unbelief would be insane if it should venture to intrude itself at the cross foot, though, alas! it has been there, and has there proved its utter unreasonableness. Shame on any of God’s children that they should ever raise questions on a matter so conclusively proven!
II. THE SEVEN CROWNS OF JESUS’ DYING LOW. Men’s dying for their friends--this is superlative--but Christ’s dying for us is as much above man’s superlative as that could be above mere commonplace.
1. Jesus was immortal, hence the special character of His death. Damon is willing to die for Pythias; But suppose Damon dies, he is only antedating what must occur, for they must both die eventually. A substitutionary death for love’s sake in ordinary cases would be but a slightly premature payment of that debt of nature which must be paid by all. Jesus needed not die at all. Up there in the glory was the Christ of God forever with the Father everlasting. He came to earth and assumed our nature that He might be capable of death, yet His body need not have died; as it was it never saw corruption, because there was not in it the element of sin which necessitated death and decay. “No man taketh My life from Me, but I lay it down of Myself,” etc.
2. In the cases of persons who have yielded up their lives for others they may have entertained the prospect that the supreme penalty would not have been exacted. Damon stood before Dionysius, willing to be slain instead of Pythias; but the tyrant was so struck with the devotion of the two friends that he did not put either of them to death. A pious miner was in the pit with an ungodly man at work. They were about to blast a piece of rock, and it was necessary that they should both leave the mine before the powder exploded; they both got into the bucket, but the hand above was not strong enough to draw the two together, and the pious miner, leaping from the bucket, said to his friend, “You are an unconverted man, and if you die your soul will be lost. Get up in the bucket as quickly as you can; as for me, if I die I am saved.” This lover of his neighbour’s soul was soared, for he was found in perfect safety arched over by the fragments which had been blown from the rock. But, such a thing could not occur in the case of our Redeemer. Die He or His people must, there was no other alternative.
3. He could have had no motive in that death but one of pure, unmingled love. You remember when the Russian nobleman was crossing the steppes in the snow, the wolves followed the sledge. The horses needed not the lash, for they fled for their lives from their howling pursuers. Whatever could stay the eager wolves for a time was thrown to them in vain. A horse was loosed: they pursued it, rent it to pieces, and still followed, like grim death. At last a devoted servant, who had long lived with his master’s family, said, “There remains but one hope for you; I will throw myself to the wolves, and then you will have time to escape.” There was great love in this, but doubtless it was mingled with a habit of obedience, a sense of reverence, and emotions of gratitude for many obligations. If I had seen the nobleman surrender himself to the wolves to save his servant, and if that servant had in former days sought his life, I could see some parallel, but as the case stands there is a wide distinction.
4. In our Saviour’s case it was not precisely, though it was, in a sense, death for His friends. Though He called us “friends,” the friendship was all on His side at the first. Our hearts called Him enemy, for we were opposed to Him. God commendeth His love to us in that while we were yet sinners in due time Christ died for the ungodly.
5. We had ourselves been the cause of the difficulty which required a death. There were two brothers on board a raft once, upon which they had escaped from a foundering ship. There was not enough of food, and it was proposed to reduce the number, that some at least might be able to live. They cast lots for life and death. One of the brothers was drawn, and was doomed to be thrown into the sea. His brother interposed and said, “You have a wife and children at home; I am single, and therefore can be better spared, I will die instead of you.” “Nay,” said the brother, “not so,” and they struggled in mutual arguments of love, till at last the substitute was thrown into the sea. Now, there was no ground of difference between those two brothers whatever. But in our case there would never have been a need for anyone to die if we had not been the wilful offenders; and the offended one, whose injured honour required the death, was the Christ that died.
6. There have been men who died for others, but they have never borne the sins of others; they were willing to take the punishment, but not the guilt. Those cases which I have already mentioned did not involve character. But here, ere Christ must die, it must be written--“He made Him to be sin for us who knew no sin,” etc.
7. The death of Christ was a proof of love superlative, because in His case He was denied all the helps and alleviations which in other cases make death to be less than death. I marvel not that a saint can die joyously; for he sees his heavenly Father gazing down upon him, and glory waiting him. But ah, to die upon a cross without a pitying eye, surrounded by a scoffing multitude, and to die with this as your requiem, “My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me!”
III. MANY ROYAL THINGS OUGHT TO BE SUGGESTED TO US BY THIS ROYAL LOVE. How this thought of Christ’s proving His love by His death
1. Ennobles self-denial.
2. Prompts us to heroism. When you get to the cross you have left the realm of little men: you have reached the nursery of true chivalry. Does Christ die?--then we feel we could die too. But mark how the heroic in this case is sweetly tinctured and flavoured with gentleness. The chivalry of the olden times was cruel. We want that blessed chivalry of love in which a man feels, “I would suffer any insult from that man if I could do him good for Christ’s sake.”
3. There seems to come from the cross, a gentle voice that saith, “Guilty sinner, I did all this for thee, what hast thou done for Me?” and yet another which saith, “Look unto Me and be ye saved, all ye ends of the earth.” (C. H.Spurgeon.)
Self-sacrificing love
A little child six years old, went out one autumn afternoon to play with a companion younger than himself, Johnnie Carr, the little hero whose name deserves to be written in gold, rambled about with his smaller playmate till the houses were left behind, and they were in the country. Presently they found that they had lost their way, and the night was coming on, cold and stormy. The younger child, chill and hungry, began to cry, and his brave companion cheered him on, now carrying him for a few steps, now anxiously searching for the way home. At last the night fell dark and cold, the children were lost, and lay down for shelter in a field. But the ground was wet and chilly, and the younger cried for home and his mother. Then Johnnie Carr, who was only six years old, remember, could not bear to see his playmate crying with the cold, and he stripped off his own jacket and made a bed for his companion, and placed the rest of his clothes to cover the child. Then, with only his shirt and socks, the little hero lay down beside him. Their childish prayers were said, and Johnnie Carr knew not that in his sublime act of self-sacrifice he had taken part in the mightier sacrifice of Jesus. When the morning came, the anxious friends, who had been searching through the night, found the children lying. The younger was soon restored to health and strength, but no care could save the life of the child-hero who had given himself for his friend. (H. J. W. Buxton)
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The death of Christ our only stay
If the thought of sin, death, and judgment be so terrible, as in truth they are to every soul of man, on what shall we stay ourselves when our time is at hand?
I. UPON THE LOVE OF GOD, IN GIVING HIS SON TO DIE FOR US (John 1Jn_4:10; Rom_5:8). Whatever be doubtful, this is sure. Light does not pour forth from the sun, with a fuller and directer ray than does perfect and eternal love overflow from the bosom of God upon all the works that He has made. The love of God is the sphere in which the world is sustained, every living soul is encompassed by that love, as stars by the firmament of heaven. And from this blessed truth flows all manner of consolation. Not only does God hate sin, but He hates death; not only does He abhor evil, but the peril and perdition of so much as one living soul--of one, even the least of all things He has made. The Lord hath sworn by Himself, saying (Eze_18:32). What do we further need to assure us that He desires our salvation? Does a child bind his father by promises to give him bread, or a mother to foster him in sickness? Surely the character of God is enough. “God is love.” What more do we ask! What more would we receive? “He cannot deny Himself.” And therefore when He was “willing more abundantly to show unto the heirs of promise the immutability of His counsel,” He “confirmed it by an oath.” But for us God has done still more: He has, beside His promise, found a pledge to give us. He has given us “His only begotten Son.” He most abhors; and He gave Him to be ours in so full a right, that we might offer Him as our own in sacrifice for our sins.
II. THE LOVE OF THE SON IS GIVING HIMSELF FOR US. When we remember who He is that gave Himself, and for whom, and to die what death, we cannot find capacity of heart to receive it. If He had saved us by a new exertion of His creative will, it would have been a miracle of lovingkindness. If He had spoken once more the first words of power, and creating us again in light, it would have been a mystery of sovereign grace. If He had redeemed us by the lowliness of the Incarnation, still revealing Himself in majesty, though as a man, and lightening the earth with His glory, as Saviour, God, and King, it would have seemed to us a perfect exhibition of the Divine compassion to a sinful world. How much more when He came to suffer shame and sorrow, all that flesh and blood can endure, to sink, as it were, into the lowest depths of creation, that He might uplift it from its farthest fall? If He so loved us as to die for us, what will He not grant or do? If He gave His whole self, will He keep back any partial gift? Will He not save us, who Himself died for us? If He loved us when we loved Him not, will He not love us now that we desire to love Him again?
III. Christ’s death upon the cross is not only a revelation of Divine love to us; it is also a DIVINE ATONEMENT FOR OUR SIN. How it is so, we may not eagerly search to know. That by death He has destroyed “Him that had the power of death,” and taken away “the sin of the world,” is enough. In that death were united the oblation of a Divine person and the sanctity of a sinless man; the perfection of a holy will and the fulfilment of a spotless life; the willing sacrifice of the sinless for the sinful, of the shepherd for the sheep that was lost, of life for the dead. How this wrought atonement for the sin of the world we cannot say further than is revealed. God “made Him to be sin for us.” “He bore our sins in His own body on the tree.” “By His stripes we are healed.” “He hath tasted death for every man.” “There is now no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus.” (Archdeacon Manning.)
Demonstration of friendship, Divine and human
I. CHRIST DEMONSTRATES HIS LOVE TO MAN BY DYING. Here He states
1. The utmost limit of human love. Nothing is felt by man to be more precious than his life. Everything he has he will sacrifice for this. A love that will lead to the sacrifice of this is love in its highest human measure.
2. Christ’s love transcended this limit, He laid down His life for His enemies. There is nothing in history approaching this. This transcendent love is
(1) The love of compassion. There could be neither gratitude nor esteem in it, for the subjects are all wicked.
(2) The love of disinterestedness. He had nothing to gain by it; for His glory and happiness admitted of no entrancement.
II. MAN DEMONSTRATES HIS LOVE BY OBEYING. Surely all men ought to love Christ, and when they do they will obey. This obedience will be marked by
1. Heartiness.
2. Cheerfulness. When this love is obedience to Christ is the highest gratification of the soul. When the heart is enlarged it runs in the way of Christ’s commandments.
3. Entireness. Love does not sort duties, or weigh or measure them. Whatever the object wishes shall be done, even unto death. Conclusion: The subject
(1) Supplies the test of Christian piety. Christian piety is not ritualism, however becoming; not a theology, however Scriptural; it is obedient love to Christ.
2. Indicates the true method of preaching--to so exhibit Christ’s love as to awaken the love of human souls. (Swain.)
A friend’s love
During the Civil war in America, a farmer was drawn to be a soldier. He was much grieved about it, not because he was a coward, but on account of his motherless family, who would have no breadwinner or caretaker in his absence. The day before he had to march to the town where the conscripts’ names were called over, and their clothing and weapons given them for the campaign, young Mr. Durham, a neighbour, came, saying, “Farmer Blake, I will go instead of you.” The farmer was astonished so much so as to be unable to reply for some time. He stood leaning one hand on his spade and wiping the sweat from his brow with the other. It seemed too good to be true! At length he took in the deliverance, as if it were an angel of light in a dark dungeon, and he grasped the hand of young Durham and praised God. The young fellow went, feeling that he was doing a noble thing, and all the village came out and bid him “God speed.” It may be that he had “glory” before him--the sash of a general, the chair of the President. Whatever his ideas, he nobly took the place of his fellow man; but alas! in the first battle he was shot and killed! When the farmer saw in the newspaper the name of Charles Durham in the list of “missing,” he at once saddled his old horse and went off to the battlefield, and after searching for some time, found the body of his friend. He brought it to his village, to the little churchyard in which they had so often walked together to the house of God; and from the quarry up on the hill he cut out a plain marble tablet, on which he carved an inscription with his own hand. It was roughly done, but with every blow there fell a tear from his eyes. There, in the little churchyard, he placed the body of his devoted friend and substitute, and covered the grave with grass sods from his garden. Then, while his tears dropped, he put the marble tablet on the grave, and when the villagers stooped to see the little monument they also wept. It did not say much, but it really touched them; it said, “C.D. He died for me.” (New Testament Anecdotes.)
