John 1:35-5135Again the next day after John stood, and two of his disciples; 36And looking upon Jesus as he walked, he saith, Behold the Lamb of God! 37And the two disciples heard him speak, and they followed Jesus. 38Then Jesus turned, and saw them following, and saith unto them, What seek ye? They said unto him, Rabbi, (which is to say, being interpreted, Master,) where dwellest thou? 39He saith unto them, Come and see. They came and saw where he dwelt, and abode with him that day: for it was about the tenth hour. 40One of the two which heard John speak, and followed him, was Andrew, Simon Peter's brother. 41He first findeth his own brother Simon, and saith unto him, We have found the Messias, which is, being interpreted, the Christ. 42And he brought him to Jesus. And when Jesus beheld him, he said, Thou art Simon the son of Jona: thou shalt be called Cephas, which is by interpretation, A stone. 43The day following Jesus would go forth into Galilee, and findeth Philip, and saith unto him, Follow me. 44Now Philip was of Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter. 45Philip findeth Nathanael, and saith unto him, We have found him, of whom Moses in the law, and the prophets, did write, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph. 46And Nathanael said unto him, Can there any good thing come out of Nazareth? Philip saith unto him, Come and see. 47Jesus saw Nathanael coming to him, and saith of him, Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile! 48Nathanael saith unto him, Whence knowest thou me? Jesus answered and said unto him, Before that Philip called thee, when thou wast under the fig tree, I saw thee. 49Nathanael answered and saith unto him, Rabbi, thou art the Son of God; thou art the King of Israel. 50Jesus answered and said unto him, Because I said unto thee, I saw thee under the fig tree, believest thou? thou shalt see greater things than these. 51And he saith unto him, Verily, verily, I say unto you, Hereafter ye shall see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of man. (John 1:35‑51)
There is one thing peculiar to Christianity, in contrast with God’s previous dealings with men under law, which is set forth here in its own exceeding beauty and preciousness. The law came with all the force of claim upon man as a creature. It was the expression of exaction and demand; and because man, who came under it as a claim, was a sinner and lost, it became to him a ministry of death and condemnation. He was unable to answer to the claim, and spiritual bankruptcy was the consequence, so that it was the rule of death really to man. But then, observe, what it did not furnish, and what it had not in it as a system at all (apart even from the contrast that it presents to grace), was just what peculiarly marks Christianity; and that is, an object outside of man altogether. The Holy Ghost, who dwells not merely in the individual Christian’s body, but in the whole house of God upon earth, which is His dwelling-place, is the great power for the enjoyment of the object; but Christ is the object. And just as Christ ever was the delight of the heart of God, was ever before Him, even from eternity the nursling of His love, and the object of all his infinite satisfaction and joy, so God ministers Him to us, to be to us in our poor measure, what His heart has found, in all its infinite satisfaction and ineffable delight, in Him.
It is most blessed grace to think of, that our Father God, in the delight of His nature, should turn these poor hearts and eyes of ours, to Him in whom His own have found their unceasing delight. Wonderful subject to dwell on, beloved friends; the same object, the same Christ, the same Savior, in all His intrinsic excellences, Person, worth, and blessedness—He who fills the whole heart of God, delights every part of his nature, over whom He could open the heavens, once and again, when He was upon earth, and say, “This is my beloved Son, in whom is all my good pleasure”—is ministered now by the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven, and that, too, in the gospel, both to sinners and to saints, as the object. And, therefore, if the preaching of the gospel be in question, there is nothing so effectual as the presentation, to the hearts of sinners, of an object worthy of the confidence of their hearts. And I often fear, whether we do not leave that a little too much out, in our thoughts.
The conscience must have the work of Christ, to make it perfect before God. It is impossible to have a perfect conscience, except by the application to it, of the precious finished work of the Lord Jesus Christ. It is that, which puts us on a divine footing before God as to conscience, and gives what Scripture calls “a perfect conscience.” A perfect conscience is one that has not the smallest fear of either death or judgment, but a divine fitness through the blood of Christ, for being in the presence of God, in the light, where God is; not a single misgiving as to God, in virtue of the blood of Christ. But then the heart needs an object, if the conscience wants clearance; and that is the value, beloved friends, both of Christ and of His work. The gospel presents both. Both are set forth in Scripture; the work for the conscience, and the Person for the affections. And that is the reason, no doubt, why we find too many, who may be clear perhaps as to their conscience, no fear or doubt as to their acceptance through the work of Christ, but yet, have not heart satisfaction; they have not heart rest or repose, and why? even because they have not as yet found one who can meet their hearts, not as yet been acquainted with one who can satisfy their hearts. And this very often accounts for what you may see with regard to those who have been cleared by the work of Christ as to their conscience, viz., the world has inducements for them; the age has attractions for them; there are things down here that bid for them; the suitors are found in the world who bid for the affections of their hearts, and the heart is not safe until it is pre-engaged, until it is pre-occupied, until there is another there that is worthy to fill it, and not only worthy to fill it, but able to fill it. For there is no one and nothing that can fill these hearts of ours but Christ. The world is too small, the things down here are too little; your hearts are a great deal larger than the world, far too large for the world to fill them; all that is in the world, whatever it be, has nothing in it that can really fill your heart; your heart is too big for it, but Christ can fill it. And herein is the blessedness of having an Object set before us perfectly capable, perfectly worthy, perfectly able to fill every longing, every desire, to satisfy every craving, to meet every desire of the affections and of the heart. Christ can do it, and moreover, it is His great delight.
Now this is the first subject presented here in these Scriptures this evening—a perfect object. Because, observe, this is no part of John’s ministry as such. John’s ministry we might say had closed, so far as that is concerned, when he testified to Jesus, as “the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world.” There you get his ministry, and he speaks, as we have seen, of the work of Christ in its large and full extent. But this is not his ministry here; it is not addressed to any one. This v. 35 is not spoken to any one. The v. previously, where Christ is set forth in His work, is. Just look at the 29th to the 34th vv. for a moment. There, in John 1:2929The next day John seeth Jesus coming unto him, and saith, Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world. (John 1:29), is John’s ministry, setting forth Christ in the two parts of His work these we had before us last week—“the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world,” and the One who “baptizeth with the Holy Ghost.” Now, that was distinctly addressed to persons, just as ministry is addressed to persons, having persons in its view for edification, and instruction, and comfort, and building up; and such here was John’s ministry. It was about Christ; it was for persons. Christ was the subject of the ministry; but individuals were those to whom Christ was thus ministered, in this double application, the two-fold nature of His work. But this is not ministry we are looking at tonight. When he looked at Jesus as He walked, he did not say to the people that were around him, “Behold the Lamb of God”; it was the delight that his own heart had found in Christ; he is entranced with that blessed object as He stood before him, and everything is displaced in John’s affections, and soul, and mind, and thoughts, as Christ is there before him. “Behold the Lamb of God.” His eye rested on Jesus.
And oh! beloved brethren, what a moment it is for us, what a moment of abstraction, and what a moment of occupation, and supreme satisfaction and delight, when every other object is gone from our gaze but Christ. Have you, as yet, traveled into that moment, when Christ, and only Christ, was before your soul’s vision? What a moment! A moment in time, that has all the elements of eternity, and the delight of heaven connected with it. For what will be heaven? This, beloved brethren, that we are with the Lord; “so shall we ever be with the Lord”; or as the verse of the little hymn so sweetly expresses it “To see Him still before me.”
Never to be conscious of a moment when Christ is not there still before us. Again I say, what a moment! And that, remember, in all its blessedness, underlies all true testimony (though I do not go into that now), but that, I repeat, underlies all true testimony and witness for Christ upon earth. It is the secret of all understanding of his mind, and of being able to walk in His mind when it is understood; do remember these two things. The only way really to know the mind of Christ is to be in divine intimacy with Himself. You cannot know His mind in any other way. There is no royal road to the understanding of what is suitable to Christ, except the knowledge of Himself.
Some one has said (it is most preciously true in every sense) that “the knowledge of Jesus is the most excellent of all sciences.” And it is the real secret of knowing all divine science {knowledge}; all real, living knowledge is reached by that road. If I know Him, I know what is suitable to Him—I know what becomes Him. It is vain to attempt to produce it, you cannot; it is not as a matter of fact possible to produce. Suitability to Christ is only learnt by intimacy with Christ, and the company of Christ. We never can be suitable to Christ, if we do not know Him and enjoy His company. We never can know what becomes His mind, unless we are intimate with Him. It is even so on earth, and amongst men. Intimacy with a person gives you a knowledge of the ways, and of the mind, and of the desires of that person. You must be intimate with a person to know what he desires; to know what would please him you must know him, you must be in intimacy with him. So it is as to our blessed Lord Jesus Christ.
Now this is exactly what we find here in its objective blessedness. John was perfectly entranced with this precious object that ministers to the whole delight of heaven, he looked on Jesus as He walked, and his heart utters its expression, its own simple expression of delight; “Behold the Lamb of God!” It is the heart’s adoring contemplation of all the preciousness and perfection of its object. How blessed it is!
What a moment for a poor thing like you and me upon earth! to come to anchor, as it were; and we never really come to anchor in our heart’s affections until Christ fill them—never. There is an aching void in your heart that the world can never fill. There is an unsatisfied longing of the heart where Christ is not, that nothing but Christ can ever satisfy.
Now permit me to point out to you, two or three instances in Scripture, in proof of this; and there is nothing like the Scripture, whether in preaching the gospel or speaking to the Lord’s people. There is nothing like letting the Word of God speak.
The Lord make our hearts to know the blessedness of that, more than ever in these last days—the power of the Word. I have felt what a thing it is to stand behind the Word of God and just let it speak, let the living voice of God, in this precious word, leave its own impress and mark upon the hearts of God’s people.
Look at one or two instances now of the power of an object in scripture. I will take the most opposite instances from the word of God. I will take the lowest conceivable type of degradation of humanity. Look at the poor woman in the fourth of John. What was the moment that settled everything for that poor wretched woman? When He stood before her as the very One that she expressed, in her own words, she was looking for; she says, “I know that Messias cometh, which is called Christ.” Says Jesus, “I that speak unto thee am He.” That settled everything for her. She left her waterpot and she went her way into the city, and says to the men whom she would not have faced for dreaded shame previously, she goes to those men and says, “Come, see a man,” mark, a Man—how I love those words—“come, see a man. And, beloved, this object that I am speaking to you about, is about a Man in heaven; as truly as He was God come down in flesh, He is a Man gone up in righteousness into glory. And it is in that character, as Man exalted in righteousness into glory, that He is set before us as the object. Here He was, no doubt, as down upon earth, a Man amongst men, the most accessible of men. I say it with all reverence, there was nothing repulsive about Christ, there was no harshness, there was no reserve about Him that repelled any one; He was the most accessible of men, any one might come to Him. Blessed be His name, He is the same tonight, for heaven has not changed Him, the glory has not changed Him. What a wonderful thing it is to think that down here upon earth, you may look up and speak to Him. And that is what I long we should get a deeper sense of, in our own souls, to know that I can speak to Him, that He is not far from me, that I can have intercourse with Him, that He delights to hear my voice, and that I should be engaged with Him, that I should know the power of that object in occupying every single part of my whole being.
Look at that poor woman. She left her waterpot, and she went her way into the city; she has but one theme, because she has but one object, she has but one text, but one sermon; she has but one thought, and that is expressed in—“Come, see a man who told me all things that ever I did; is not this the Christ?”
Now, there is the very lowest specimen of humanity, so to speak, but look at the power of the object in that poor woman. When He Himself was before her as the object, that had an effect upon her which nothing beside could effect. He had spoken to her about the living water, about the streams of this world being unsatisfying, and about the satisfaction there was in the water that He would give; He had touched her conscience but now her heart is reached, as He Himself stood before her, the Object who was worthy and able to fill it all—now she is abstracted and engrossed.
Now I will take another instance, the very opposite to this, for a person might say, There was a poor wretched creature, and no doubt it was a wonderful thing for her to find one who could speak to her as He did, being such as He was, and she, such as she was. Wonderful that there was One, who, sinner though she was, and holy though He was, yet He would thus speak to her, and she made a good exchange from misery and wretchedness, when she had to do with such an One as Jesus. But take another instance; not a poor wretched sinner at Sychar’s well, but a man full of the Holy Ghost—the martyr Stephen. Look at the power of an object to that man, in a moment of inconceivable terror to one naturally. A most tremendous moment for Stephen was that moment. And what was it kept him, and sustained him, and gave him superiority, as well as power, for testimony? He looked up into heaven and saw Jesus, the Son of man, standing at the right hand of God. “Full of the Holy Ghost, he looked up steadfastly into heaven, and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the right hand of God,” and could lay down his life here, in all the calmnness, and peace, and quietness of a man, who was perfect master of the circumstances he was passing through, instead of being mastered by them.
Thus you find in the most opposite characters, it is the same object; it is Christ: it is the Man in the glory. And it is very precious, and wonderfully comforting, when you think of it; no doubt it is perfectly true, as it has been said, that the effect of looking at this blessed Object, this same precious, blessed Object, in different positions, has different effects upon the soul. Look at Him in humiliation. Look at Him in His unwearied service of love down here, through this wretched world. Look at Him in the way in which He went about doing good. Look at Him wiping widow’s tears, and raising the dead to life. Look at all that lowly path of Christ down here, in His marvelous humiliation, and you will get your heart broken down. It is a humbled Christ which breaks and wins your heart; but still, it is a humbled Christ, in His lowly grace, as humbled, that breaks the hard heart. Think of all that love, and kindness, and wonderful goodness amongst men. Was ever such love, ever such known, ever such grace, ever such mercy seen, as in His own blessed Person—God manifest among men—and to poor creatures like us? But then, look at the other side of it. In glory, He satisfies our heart’s affections. He wins the heart as humbled; as glorified, He satisfies it. Stephen saw Him glorified; he saw the Son of man standing at the right hand of God; and in the power of that Object, and in the preciousness and blessedness of it, he could give his life up, and could become a martyr. He prays, “Lord, lay not this sin to their charge”: and he commits his spirit to Jesus, and falls asleep.
Now, I will take one other instance, and it is neither a poor sinner nor a martyr; but an apostle. And it is the same thing, whether it be a sinner, martyr, or apostle. Look at Paul in the third of Philippians. There is one little word there of exceeding beauty and sweetness. He says, in the seventh verse, “But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ.”
There you have the power of the Object in his past history, unfolded by himself in his experience of it. The things that were gain to him as a man down here—they were religious things, they were not what would be understood as worldly things; they were religious advantages, fleshly advantages connected with religious status down here in this world; carnal, earthly religion, that a man would pride himself upon, that he would consider gain to him, as a man—the “things that were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ.” When he saw Him on the road to Damascus, that blessed, wonderful Lord in glory, everything was turned out of his heart and affections. His heart was won, and satisfied too. The whole thing was changed for him. It was a turning moment, when that blessed One was revealed in his heart down here, and he really saw Him, and heard Him; so much so, that he says that those that journeyed with him saw the light, that is to say, they saw the outward display of glory, the attendant circumstances, as it were, by which Saul was arrested, on this terrible course of slaughter and death—“they that journeyed with me saw indeed the light, and were afraid” (because they saw nothing but what was external, and addressed itself to their senses), “but they heard not the voice of Him that spake to me”;—the personal dealings, personal transactions between that living Lord in heaven, and that poor, wretched persecutor down here upon earth. Himself before him as an object, “What things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ.”
And that was the moment that determined the value of them. They were all estimated and measured according to their value in reference to Christ; because nothing in this world has what we call an intrinsic value; everything has a relative value; it is most important to bear this in our thoughts and minds.
Now, what is the greatest or best in relation to Christ—what is the value of everything else, then? You might think things very valuable in this world, property very valuable, position very valuable, status very valuable, and all that kind of thing, you may attach great importance to it all; but then, look at the thing relatively, bring in Christ; it is all worthless, yea, worse than worthless; he uses a stronger word too, for he calls it “dung,” the very refuse of the earth. A thing that would be valuable in itself, if you bring in Christ, all is changed. He says, I counted these things loss for Christ. Now between that verse, mark, in the third of Philippians and the next that follows it, the eighth, there is a considerable parenthesis, remember, of time. Those two verses do not come together historically. “The things that were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ.”
Now, mark, this was his past, and it connects itself with the wonderful interference of God, in long-suffering grace to him. But look at this eighth verse, “Yea, doubtless, and I count all things but loss.”
He has held on wonderfully on his way, in the power of his object. It is not that the circle of loss has become diminished; but it has been increased now. It is not that other things were now more valuable to him than they were, but he counts “all things loss.” I feel, I assure you, often times in my own heart and one has to go down before the Lord, and look at things in our own hearts and consciences before Him how very little one holds on one’s way in the apprehension of the valued preciousness of Christ, to displace everything else.
In the first moments of our conversion, or of our heart opening out to these wonderful things, and when we first got a view of Christ and His preciousness and His love, how little everything appeared to us. Have we held on our way? Can we now take in “all things,” and say, “I count all things loss?” It was only “things” at the beginning, but the circle has widened out to everything now, in the magnificence of this object that commanded every single part of his moral being—“I count all things loss,” I count them all loss for what? “For the excellency of the knowledge,” the super-excellency, the surpassing excellency of the knowledge “of Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may have Christ for my gain”; but then, there is more than that; he not only holds on his road, as it were, in such wonderful energy of soul, but he further says, “I do not count myself to have apprehended,” I do not reckon I have reached the goal or gained the prize, and that there I stand, looking down upon, and judging, every one else. Oh, how different to it all are the words, “I count not myself to have apprehended, but this one thing I do, I press toward the mark for the prize.” He, the blessed One, is the Object; and there is, oh, such power in this Object. Thus we have the expulsive power of this new affection, and the attractive power of it as well. There is an attractive power in the Christ, which draws the affections up to Him; and there is an expulsive power in Him, which weans them from everything down here. But then, observe, it must be a living Person; and it is this blessed living Man in heaven.
Well, now let us turn to one more instance; and it is not that of an individual, but I could not omit to call attention to it, because of the deep interest attaching to it. We have seen the effect upon a poor wretched sinner, upon a noble martyr, and also upon an apostle; all being entranced with a common object, lifted by it out of their various circumstances, by the divine and living power of it. Now look at Rev. 3 for a moment, and we shall find the same true, not only of individuals, but also of the church. See how the Lord Himself commends—see how preciously He commends this power of an object there. He says, speaking to the church in Philadelphia,
I know thy works; behold, I have set before thee an open door, and no man can shut it; for thou hast little strength, and hast kept my word, and hast not denied my name.
Now, beloved friends, what a blessed testimony from Christ Himself, that is! He was their object; His word, that is, His testimony; and His name means that which sets forth Himself in all His own infinite blessedness; His testimony and His name, He says, were everything to them.
Well now, contrast with that for a moment (and it is a very striking contrast) the assembly at Ephesus. Here, we may say, is the church’s start in its pristine beauty and loveliness. And, note well, how that the Lord does give full credit for all the long roll of laborious service that was there, He passes over nothing commendable. He says, “I know thy works, and thy labor, and thy patience, and how thou canst not bear them which are evil” — you are intolerant of evil – “and thou hast tried them which say they are apostles, and are not, and hast found them liars; and hast borne, and hast patience, and for my name’s sake hast labored, and hast not fainted.”
Just think of all that. Why, there is not a single company upon earth that could now command such a commendation from the Lord Jesus Christ. There is not an individual upon earth, I care not how laborious, nor a company of people, no matter how assiduous, who are worthy of such commendation; yet, notwithstanding all, He says, you do not meet my heart, “I have against thee, because thou hast left thy first love.” I am not the object. You are doing the works, and you are laboring assiduously, and earnestly, and continuously, but they are not connected with Me as the object: all the works you are doing, works too, in themselves admirable, so that I give you full credit for them, they do not spring from Me, as object; you have left your first love; you have got away from your first love. Now that is very solemn; Precious though it be to dwell upon the power of the object, it is intensely solemn to think that there may be all kinds of service at our hands, but if Christ is not the center, and the spring, and the source, it is of no value whatever, in His eyes. And it is not only positive labor; it may be even the judgment of evil. I think it is well, we should have all these things plainly and clearly, in the fulness of truth, before our souls. There may be judgment of evil, and Christ not its object, in the heart. And why should He, the blessed lover of His own, care for all that, if He is not the object? How could it ever meet his heart? “If a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would utterly be contemned” (Cant. 8:7).
Do you think it could ever satisfy the longings of His heart, if He is not the object? Oh, never for a moment! He must be the spring, and the source, and the outgoing, and the power, of everything about his own, individually and collectively. He must be the One who commands every movement, and awakens every motive of the breast. If it be not so, all is vain. And that is what I understand the Lord Jesus Christ to mean, by those very touching and very solemn words, “Thou hast left thy first love.”
I do not understand the first love to be their love, because their love was a created thing. You have left your first love, you have left that which is the spring of all loyalty and affection; you have left the love of Christ.
And I believe it is the same within ourselves. Look at the history of any departure or declension, and you will ever find this, that departure or declension begins inside, in the heart; not outside, in the feet. It may be very slow, but it is like some diseases, slow but sure; unless God, in His wonderful mercy, arrest it; but declension begins inside. I never knew it otherwise, nor was I ever made conscious in my own soul, of coldness, and distance, and darkness, and dullness, that it was not so. Oh, those seasons and times, when the wheels of the soul, as it were, drag heavily! What is the secret of it? Christ is not the all of the soul. Christ is not filling the vision of the soul; Christ’s love, Christ’s affection, Christ’s thoughts, Christ’s heart, Christ’s yearnings, yea, all that Christ Himself is, in His blessedness—Oh, that is the secret. Is it any wonder, if you go away from the fire, that you should feel cold? And is it any wonder, if you go away from the warmth of His blessed heart, into the cold icy regions of your own, that you should feel benumbed in your affections? Be assured, brethren, the secret lies here. It is getting away from Christ and from His love. And I believe it is a more easy matter than is often thought. Because, if you begin to think of your affliction and your love, and your devotedness, and your work, and your service, Christ is practically displaced: it is yourself that is before your own eyes, and not Christ. It was so with Peter, he trusted his own heart’s affection for Christ, and you know the result. If it be work or service for the Lord, oh, let it be connected with the Christ; we get the measure and value of everything when we bring in Christ. Connect everything with Christ, by bringing in Christ.
Take, for instance, the things that agitate our hearts in every-day life, which relate to ourselves individually, to our domestic circles, or our businesses, or professions; for be assured, this is a most eminently practical subject; for instance, we have a very difficult matter before us, we really do not know how to act; if a number of paths lie before us, and we do not know which to take; some new course presents itself to us and we know not what to do; or, it may be hedged up in business matters, and we know not how to act; bring in Christ, and the whole thing is simple. But you say, If I bring in Christ it will involve suffering; how true, and shall we also say, how blessed to have found for ourselves in this world, an object worthy of all suffering, shame, and loss and because it is so, to esteem the path of suffering, a real glory.
And it is to be feared we have all been shrinking from this path. Is it not just the very one thing we have kept out of our calculations? And do we not go any way round to avoid it? But, if Christ is before you, it is the very thing you cannot escape; and if you make Christ your object, you must suffer; if you make Christ the object of your heart’s affections, you must have loss. “Unto you it is given in the behalf of Christ, not only to believe on him, but also to suffer for his sake.” It is given to you; it is part of His royal bounty, so to speak, to you. What a blessed new way to look at it; it is part of His own heart’s dowry to His people to give them to suffer for Him; “If so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together.” “For, verily, when we were with you, we told you before that we should suffer tribulation.” Would to God that it was more suffering for His sake! Alas! we suffer too often for our own follies, for our foolishness, our shortcomings, our waywardness, our going out of the narrow path. But oh! to suffer for His sake; there is a sweetness when you do suffer for Christ’s sake; it is tinged with all the divine love that comes from His heart, when you suffer for His sake; there is a peculiar preciousness, in suffering for the sake of such a Master, and such a Lord: there is no bitterness attached to it. When we suffer as the consequence of our own ways, there is bitterness in it.
If we have to bow our heads down, and own the government of God, and our Father’s dealings with us, there is no doubt a measure of rest about it, to say, Lord, You are right in putting that upon me; I justify You in all Your ways, I justify You in the stripes and in the strokes I have received: I have deserved it, and You are holy and loving in doing it: but then, there is a want of the joy about that, which is found in the other. But in suffering for Christ’s sake, there is a sweetness, and a consolation, and cheer peculiar to itself; like the apostles when beaten, and then let go, “and they departed from the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer shame for His name.”
But all this was found in this church, though they were poor feeble things: what a cheer to the heart it is to think of it; and it moreover shows it is not great numbers, nor great strength, as men would say, nor great power. He says to them, “Thou hast little strength.” You have nothing to boast of, you are but a feeble folk, despicable in the eyes of men; you have nothing to show, nothing in fact to accredit you, but I am enshrined in your heart’s affections; your thoughts center in me, my word is everything to you; my name is everything to you; it is that which controls you, this it is that originates everything in your thoughts, which rules you, and forms the motives in your soul. How blessed it is when the motives, the spring of the whole moral being, are formed positively by such an object as Himself, in everything!
“Thou hast kept my word, and hast not denied my name,” and further as well, “thou hast kept the word of my patience.” Is there anything more precious, more sweet to the heart than such ‘approval? But here is set forth, in all its parts, the power of this blessed object in its attractive fulness, and blessedness; and in its expulsive power. Let me further supply you with an illustration of this, which will show how much there is of preservation in the Object as well, I believe not only are our affections and hearts governed by true and right motives, but I am assured we are also preserved. Ten thousand things, that are snares to people, would not be snares at all, if Christ as our object were before the soul. Do I hear it said, Oh! we have to go through this great world with all its attractions, its folly and tinsel, and giddy show, and all the allurements of Satan? I admit it fully, and in all its force, but look, for instance, at yonder anxious mother. There she is, a poor heart-broken thing, hurrying along the most attractive thoroughfare of the West End, with every conceivable thing there, that appeals to, as well as ministers to all the strength of evil in the human heart, “the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life.” Is she attracted by it? Not in the least. That woman presses on, nothing daunts her; she does not stop to look at anything, she is not detained by anything; she is hurrying on as if she were the only person in that crowded street. Why? Her little, darling, precious child has been run over in that street. That is her object, and there is the power of that object. The affections of that woman are riveted upon her child, her own child, and she is perfectly blind and deaf, to every sight and sound, and presses on to reach that object. And so should it be with us, if Christ were, in all His blessedness and power, the object of our souls. And though we were going along through this poor wretched world, with all its allurements and pitfalls, if Christ were only before us objectively, if His matchless beauty were only filling our gaze, if His intrinsic worth were only occupying our affections, and commanding our souls—how different! Well may we sing:
O fix our earnest gaze so wholly, Lord, on Thee.
And now, mark, there is one thing further, and that is the last point I shall dwell upon this evening. Not merely is there preservation—the preservation is just as I have shown you—but there is something further, there is a power to act upon others. I am sure there is one thing that ought to exercise all our hearts increasingly, and that is, our little ability to influence people—I mean morally. I esteem as utterly without value all mere natural influence. Indeed, I believe it is pernicious; I do not believe in any influence as being of any real worth, save divine influence. I am speaking, observe, entirely of divine things. I do now refer to people getting power over others, in a natural way; there is such a thing, and you will always find grief and sorrow as the almost invariable result of it: but what I now speak of, is our being divinely able to influence one another. Now, mark it here, John’s whole affection, his whole heart, his whole soul, is fixed upon this Lamb of God, “Behold the Lamb of God,” this was the object commanding every part of his being. And look at the effect. “The two disciples heard him speak”; and what did they do? Followed John? Alas, that is what is so common on all sides. People have thus followed their favorite teachers and leaders. Let us, beloved brethren, be increasingly on our guard, as to all that kind of thing. What is it all worth? What is the good of it all? I do not find persons who are thus attracted, in any remarkable way devoted to Christ; they may be devoted to the poor instrument, to the poor vessel, attached to the poor voice, but what is the value of it? What service is there in it for Christ? What glory to Him, and His truth? “The two disciples heard him speak, and they followed Jesus.” The attractiveness, the power that attaches souls to Christ, that is the thing to seek after. That has the value of eternity about it; that is what is grateful to the heart of Christ. “The two disciples heard him speak, and they followed Jesus.” There was a drawing of wonderful blessedness. There was the attractive power of Christ coming out through the man, whose whole soul was set upon that object; this, beloved friends, left its own mark upon those who were around, who witnessed it, and looked on it. “They followed Jesus.”
And permit me to say this affectionately to you: God knows how deep the longings, and how oft expressed are the desires in each of our hearts, but here is the power to long for, here is the influence to pray for, and these are the effects to be produced. Let us carefully remember, it was not the ministry of the word at all, and yet that ministry is very like it. It was not addressed to them. John was not trying to influence them; he was not seeking to win them, and yet they were won; but they were won for Christ. They were not won for John; they were not won for his cause, or his interest, or his person; but they were won for Christ. “The two disciples heard him speak, and they followed Jesus.” And why did they follow Him? What was their object? Well, I can readily conceive how they must have said to themselves, That must be a wonderful Christ, that must be a wonderful object, that must be a wonderful portion, that fills that poor man’s heart; that must be a wonderful Jesus that fills the outgoings and incomings of that man’s affections; and thus they were attracted to Jesus. And is not, in reality, that true ministry? This was not ministry, properly so called, and yet what ministry like it? It reminds one of what the apostle says to the Thessalonians (I Thess. 1:5), “Our gospel came not unto you in word only, but also in power, and in the holy Ghost, and in much assurance.” There was the true and real power. It is the power of a Person who has displaced everything in one’s affections, and filled every longing of one’s heart. Oh, what a Person, what a Power!
The Lord give us to know more of that kind of influence, this passive kind of influence. I remember it was once said to me by another, “Well, I like to be in the company of that dear servant of God, even if he never says a word; it is a joy to be in his company.” I said, “Why?” The reply came at once: “I never get into that person’s company, that he does not always connect me with Christ.” Oh that is the kind of influence, beloved friends. That is true, divine influence upon the souls and affections of one another down here; an influence that will connect you practically with Christ. And it is not at all, I may say, words. It is easy to have plenty of words, ready expressions, and exalted utterances, but you will find they are little more than sentiment. And what is the good of sentiment? It is no sooner there than gone; there is no substantiality in it. But, oh! it is delightful to see a heart whom Christ has satisfied, whom Christ has met; to see an affection which Christ has filled. And that is the real power, that is the true influence, a person who can turn his back upon everything here, and to whom everything is of little consequence, of little moment, but Christ. “The two disciples heard him speak, and they followed Jesus.”
And now, one word more, and then I have finished for this night. When Jesus saw them following, He said to them, “What seek ye?” And they, in all the eagerness of their hearts, “Where dwellest thou?” The point with them was a continuance with Him. And we hear no more of John, it is all Jesus now. The voice is gone; the One, who was its all, remains. Oh, how blessed! The voice is all hushed; and the Person, of whom it testified, remains. That very voice, that cried in the wilderness, is now still. Where do you dwell? “Come and see,” He says. He is the most accessible of all. How very different it is, beloved brethren, as to us. What a contrast to all, even the best, of His own beloved saints, in this world; how little accessible we are, what reserve there is about us, what distance, what coldness, what harshness even, and severity have you not often heard, “Well, nothing would induce me to apply to that person, in any emergency”? Why? Alas! I fear the answer would be everything reflecting upon the person, it would be said, There is so much repelling about him. That was not Christ.
“Come and see.” “They came and saw where he dwelt”—a humble place, I believe, nothing attractive about it, none of the furniture of this world about it, none of the greatness of this world about it—but how precious it was, “They abode with him.” It was the company, and not the place; “they abode with him.” It was not the comfort. As some one has said, “Company is greater than comfort.” It was the company; “they abode with him”; they looked out for a continuance with Him; it was not a mere passing visit; it was not merely to see what sort of a place without name, and without title, and without anything here. It was His company they were seeking for. They were won for Him, drawn to Him, attracted to Him, and they abode with Him. That is the real contact.
I commend this subject to you, this wonderful objective power of Christianity, the wonderful power of an object, this blessed, precious, living Christ up there, at God’s right hand, in heavenly glory, there filling every out-going feeling, every desire, the one object, I am bold to say tonight, the one object that interests every created intelligence there—a Man in heaven. Never was such an object of interest in heaven, a Man in heaven, and such a Man. I like that verse of Hart’s hymn:
A Man there is, a real Man.
A Man in heaven, a living Man, up there, upon the throne of God, exalted, glorified, to whom we can speak, to whom we can come, whom we can hear, whom we can address ourselves to, whom we can have companionship with. And, oh! what a comfort to think that there is One there, who is worthy of losing everything for, on earth! What a comfort! He is worthy of all that can be endured. Thus one is repaid; we are no losers; there is what is called loss, and yet it is not loss, it is the gain of a precious Christ, filling every affection.
The Lord, by His Spirit, give our souls to taste it increasingly:—His own intrinsic beauty and blessedness for the little while we remain here, to hear His voice. It is but a little moment, and we shall hear that voice, and taste afresh that love. But, oh! beloved, whilst we wait to hear that voice, may we find everything in Him, and so press on after Him increasingly. The Lord grant it, beloved friends, and make His own Son increasingly precious to us, for His blessed name’s sake.