As Christ Forgave You, so Also do ye.

AN old writer — Lord Herbert of Cherbury — has written, “He that cannot forgive others breaks the bridge over which he must pass himself; for every man has need to be forgiven. “A true dictum — but, alas! how often do such words of wisdom penetrate no deeper than to the outward ear or eye whilst they fail reach the heart.
Our Saviour’s warning exhortation concerning forgiveness is so clear and urgent that it is strange how any Christian believer can dare to disregard it. “If ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you: but if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father Forgive Your trespasses... And very tender is the appeal in. Eph. 4: “Grieve not the holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed unto the day of redemption. Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice; and he ye kind one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.”
“I do love Jesus — I would do anything for Jesus — how kind of Him to die for me!” exclaimed a young Greenlander lo the missionary who had read to him the story of the cross. “Are you sure you would do anything for Him?” asked his friend; “Jesus said, he that hath My commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth Me.” The question was heart-searching, for he who thus protested his love to the lord was at that very moment bent on revenge. As a boy of thirteen he had seen his father killed, and — being next of kin-he had (there) the legal right to slay the murderer. But the Lord Jesus commands His people to love their enemies, and to forgive as they would be forgiven. After a mighty struggle, the Spirit of Jesus triumphed: the young disciple sent a gracious message to his enemy, inviting him to come and meet him. The enemy came, but — with treachery in his heart — fixed the meeting place on the riverbank furthest from the young Christian’s lodging. He spoke smoothly at the interview, showing no malice, but, secretly he contrived to make a hole in the bottom of the Christian’s boat, hoping that it would sink beneath its occupant and carry him down to death. All unsuspecting, the youth was preparing to push off, when lie discovered that his boat had been tampered with and scuttled. Raising his eyes, he saw his defeated enemy watching from a height to see him drown, but the Lord Jesus was now enthroned in his heart. “I forgive you,” he cried, “for Jesus has forgiven me!”
Let none suppose that he can rely on the upholding of the grace of God whilst at the same time he is giving place to a hard and unforgiving spirit.
About the middle of the third century there lived in Antioch two friends — Sapricius and Nicephorus. For some cause unknown to us they quarreled, and their feelings became so bitter that all intercourse between them ceased; they would even pass each other in the street without sign of recognition.
Then it came home to the heart of Nicephorus that such behavior towards a fellow-Christian was a great sin, and, first through the mediation of friends, then by his own personal apology and humble entreaty for pardon, he sought reconciliation with Sapricius. In vain. Not so much as a word could he win from his former friend.
In the course of time, persecution broke out in Antioch, and Sapricius, who was a presbyter of the Christian Church, was seized, brought before the judge, and commanded to obey the Emperor and do sacrifice. “We Christians,” he replied bravely, “acknowledge Jesus Christ as our King. He is the true God, the Creator of heaven and earth. Let the idols, which can do neither good nor harm, perish.”
He was put to the torture, but refused to go back from his confession, and was at last sentenced to be beheaded. As the procession passed on the way to the place of execution, someone rushed forward and threw himself at the feet of Sapricius. It was Nicephorus. “Martyr of Jesus, forgive me my offense!” he cried, but not a word did Sapricius reply, and in a minute the crowd had parted them. Nothing daunted, Nicephorus made his way round by another street, and met the procession further on; but again his plea was disregarded, and the soldiers mocked him for a fool.
At length the moment arrived when Sapricius was ordered to lay his head upon the block. There was a pause — he faltered, and asked why he must be put to death. “Because,” they said, “you will not obey the Emperor and sacrifice to the gods.” “Stop!” cried he, “wait a minute! I will do it — I will sacrifice!” In horror and astonishment, Nicephorus sprang forward. “Brother!” he exclaimed, “What are you doing? Will you deny the Lord? Will you forfeit your crown?” Sapricius remained silent. Then, with tears, Nicephorus declared, “I am a Christian — take me instead!” The officers, perplexed, despatched a messenger to the Governor for further orders. “Whosoever will not sacrifice is to be slain by the sword,” was the reply.
Nicephorus offered up one prayer, and was beheaded. The life of Sapricius was spared, but he had forfeited the crown promised to him who is faithful unto death. H.R.