Love’s Competition

Love's Competition

A SERMON INTENDED FOR READING ON LORD'S-DAY EVENING, FEBRUARY 2, 1890,

DELIVERED BY C. H. SPURGEON,

AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.

"Tell Me therefore, which of them will love him most? Simon answered
and said, I suppose that he, to whom he forgave most. And He said unto
him, You have rightly judged." Luke 7:42, 43.

I REMEMBER seeing, somewhere or other, as a sign upon an inn, the
words, "The First and Last." I do not know what that may happen to be
among men, but I know that love is God's first and last. It is there
that He begins with us in mercy–"We love Him, because He first loved
us." His love at the first springs up like a fountain in the midst of a
desert and freely flows along the wilderness to the unworthy sons of
men. In the end, the result of that love is that men love Him–they
cannot help it any more than the rock can prevent the echo when the
voice falls upon it. Love is not a creature of law–it comes not on
demand–it must be free or not at all.

It has its reasons why it springs up in our hearts, but it is not a
mercenary thing which can be procured at such-and-such a price. It is
not a matter of argument–it is not of itself an act performed as a
matter of duty. Love is a duty, certainly, but it does not come to us
that way–it comes to us like a roe or a young hart, over every
mountain and hill, leaping and bounding. It comes not as a heavy burden
dragged along an iron way. If a man should give all the substance of
his house for love, it would utterly be despised. Men do not make
themselves love by a course of calculation–they are overtaken with it
and carried away by its power.

When godly men consider and enjoy the great love of God to them, they
begin to love God in return, just as the bud, when it feels the
sunshine, opens to it of its own accord. Love to God is a sort of
natural consequence which follows from a sight and sense of the love of
God to us. I think it is Aristotle who said that it is impossible for a
person to know that he is loved without feeling some degree of love in
return. I do not know how that may be for I am no philosopher, but I am
sure that it is so with those who taste the love of God. As love is the
first blessing coming from God to us, so it is the last return from us
to God–He comes to us loving–we go home to Him loving.

I. I intend to keep to my text and handle it red hot, by first noticing
that IT IS TAKEN FOR GRANTED THAT PARDONED SINNERS WILL LOVE. "Tell me
therefore, which of them will love him most?" It is implied that the
two debtors who had been frankly forgiven would both love their
benefactor. The question was not, "Which of them will love him?" but,
"Which of them will love him most?" So, then, I say, it is taken for
granted in the text that those who are pardoned will love him who has
so freely pardoned them. And this, first, because it seems most natural
that where kindness is received gratitude should be felt.

This is so generally admitted that gratitude is found among the lowest
and worst of mankind. "If you love them who love you, what thanks have
you? For sinners also love those that love them." It is man-like to
return good for good and ingratitude is looked upon most rightly as one
of the basest of the vices. Why we find gratitude not only in men and
women–intelligent creatures–but we find it in the very beasts of the
field! "The ox knows his owner and the ass his master's crib."

A dog that has received benefits from you will be attached to you and
by every possible means will endeavor to show his affection! The
ancients had many rare stories of the gratitude of wild beasts. You
remember that of Androcles and the lion. The man was condemned to be
torn to pieces by beasts, but a lion, to which he was cast, instead of
devouring him, licked his feet because at some former time Androcles
had extracted a thorn from the grateful creature's foot. We have heard
of an eagle that so loved a boy with whom he had played that, when the
child was sick, the eagle sickened, too. And when the child slept, this
wild, strange bird of the air would sleep, but only then. And when the
child awoke, the eagle awoke. When the child died, the bird died, too.

You remember that there is a picture in which Napoleon is represented
as riding over the battlefield and he stops his horse, as he sees a
slain man with his favorite dog lying upon his bosom doing what he can
to defend his poor dead master. Even the great man-slayer paused at
such a sight! There is gratitude among the beasts of the field and the
fowls of the air. And surely, if we receive favors from God and do not
feel love to Him in return, we are worse than brute beasts! And so the
Lord, in that pathetic verse in Isaiah, pleads against us, "The ox
knows his owner and the ass his master's crib: but Israel does not
know, My people do not consider." If we receive favors from God, it is
but natural that we should love Him in return. Alas, that many should
be so unnatural, so false to every noble instinct, so dead to the
gratitude which goodness deserves!

Gratitude should surely arise when the benefit is surpassingly great.
Surely love must spring up with the greatest force and freedom when
favors are far above the common run of blessings–when these favors are
not such as are confined to time and to the body, but when they reach
to eternity and bless the soul. When favors are of such weight as the
forgiveness of sin and the salvation of the soul from wrath to come I
would stand and sing to the fountain of the heart as Israel did in the
wilderness, "Spring up, O well; sing you unto it: The princes dug the
well."

And has not our great Prince who has been struck upon the cheek dug
this well by giving us, through His free Grace and dying love, to taste
of full remission and of complete pardon of our guilt? Shall we not,
must we not love the Redeemer in return? I call common ingratitude
worse than brutish–but to have sin forgiven and not to love God–in
this case where shall I go for a word? I must call it devilish. It were
worse than infernal to receive a deliverance from guilt so great, from
punishment so justly terrible and not to love the Lord, through whom it
is given to us! Oh, love the Lord, whose mercy endures forever! If,
indeed, you have tasted of that mercy, you must love Him. It cannot be
otherwise– you are bound to God by bonds of love and these draw you,
by a secret but irresistible force, to love the Lord in return!

And moreover, not only is this natural and necessary, because of the
greatness of the mercy, but the Grace of God always takes care that
wherever pardon is given love shall be ensured–for the Holy Spirit
co-operates with the work of Christ. And if we are cleansed from the
stain of our former evil through the blood of Christ, we are renewed
and changed in the spirit of our minds by the Holy Spirit. He does not
take away our sin and then leave us that old heart of stone,
insensible, ungrateful–but as He gives us a garment of righteousness
He gives us a heart of flesh. The Spirit works in us a degree of love
at the same time that He creates the first look of faith.

And soon our faith increases and then He works in us more and more of
that love to Christ by which we cling to Him. This love works in us a
hatred of sin and a spirit of obedience whereby we yield ourselves up
to the service of Him who has bought us with His precious blood. You
know that it is so, Brothers and Sisters. Where pardon comes, delight
in God comes with it. You know that God does not divide His gifts and
give justification to one and sanctification to another–the Covenant
is one–and the blessings of the Covenant are threaded on the one
string of infinite wisdom, so that when there comes the washing in the
blood, there comes also a cleansing with water by the Word.

The Holy Spirit washes us from the power of sin as the blood of Christ
cleanses us from the guilt of sin. Where sin is forgiven, there must be
love to the God who forgave it because the Spirit of God makes sure
work upon the heart of the Believer–and one of his first works is
love. I need not argue this further because all Christians know this as
a matter of fact–where there is no love there is no pardon. You cannot
be pardoned and not love God as a result of His loving forgiveness!
What was the very first emotion that you and I felt when we had a sense
of guilt removed? We felt joy for our own sake, but immediately after,
or at the same instant, we felt such intense gratitude to God that we
loved Him beyond all expression!

We have sometimes been half afraid that we do not love God as much,
now, as we did at that moment, though I trust that the fear is
groundless. But at that moment there was nothing too hot or too heavy
for us to have attempted on behalf of Him who had taken the burden from
off our shoulders. We would have said at that moment, "Here am I, send
me," if it had been to prison, or to death! Oh, the joy of those first
days! They are rightly called the days of our espousals. And what love
we had then! We were willing to leave all for Christ's sake. We snapped
fond connections at His command. Truly, like Israel of old, we would
have gone after our God into the wilderness–yes, after our Savior into
the grave!

Nothing could have kept us back or have caused us to wander from Him,
then. Do you not remember how you used to long for Sundays to hear of
Jesus and praise His name with His people? If there was a weeknight
service, you were

always there, though no one persuaded you to go. Then, any corner in
the Meeting House was good enough for you. Now, perhaps, you need a
very soft cushion to sit upon. You sat, then, in a straight-backed pew
and did not know it!

Now, you need very tender dealing and the preacher must mind that he
interests you by illustrations and poetical allusions. But then the
Gospel, itself, interested you! And however dull the preacher might
have been, you were so willing to hear about Jesus and to know of His
love, that there you were–eager to hear the most humble evangelist!

Wisdom did not need to press you into her house, for you were earnestly
waiting at the posts of her doors, glad to hear even the footsteps of
those who came in and out. Oh, those were brave days! I hope that we
have braver days now. But, for certain, as sure as we knew our pardon,
we felt that we loved the Lord with all our hearts.

Now I want to make a little practical use of this inference from the
text. That pardoned souls love their pardoning God is a great Truth and
a very solemn one in its bearings upon us at this time, for there are
persons in this house of prayer who were never forgiven–and we are
sure of that unhappy fact since they do not love God. Their sins must
be still upon them because they have not the token of pardon, inasmuch
as they have no love to Jesus Christ our Lord. Oh, listen to me, you
that do not love God and yet, perhaps, dream that you are saved! Are
there not some here that seldom think of God–who do not care if a day,
a week, a month, a year should pass over their heads–and yet they have
no thought of the Almighty Judge of all the earth?

They receive His mercies but they do not thank Him! They feel His power
but they do not fear Him! "God is not in all their thoughts." O my
Hearer, if this is your case, you do not love Him–for if we love any
person we are sure to think of him! Thoughts fly that way in which the
heart moves. I do not say that we are always thinking of those we
love–but I do say that our thoughts will fly that way when they can.
You know at sunset where the crows live. Perhaps all day long you are
unable to tell for they may fly from one plowed field to another to
find their meat. But watch when night comes on and when they are free
from other obligations and wish to find rest–they fly straight to
those tall trees where they have built their nests.

A man may, in the busy time of the day, think about 50 things–but let
him be free from pressing labor and care– and he returns to his love
as birds fly to their nests at night! His thought flies to Jesus
because Jesus is the home of his heart. If your hearts love God your
thoughts will run to Him as the rivers run to the sea. Yes, and often
in the very middle of business the man who loves his God will be
speaking with Him! He may not interrupt the conversation and those in
the shop may not know what is on his mind, but his heart will be up
above the mountains where the angels dwell, communing with the great
Father of lights! But where there is no thought of God, there is no
love to Him.

Are there not many who never do anything for God? He has made them and
He preserves them, and yet they never make Him any return by way of
willing action designed to give Him pleasure. I may put it to some of
you–did you ever do anything distinctly for God in all your lives?
What? Not so much as once? Ah, me, a man so curiously made by the
Divine finger–displaying infinite skill in every blood vessel, nerve
and muscle that is necessary for his life and motion– and yet he has
never thought of the Great One who has set all this machinery in motion
and keeps it in action! To live only by God and yet to live without
Him! Strange!

Can there exist a man who never does anything for his God who is
constantly doing so much for him? If so, I would say to such a
one–"You have never been pardoned for you do not love God since you
never think of Him and do nothing for Him." Some men evidently do not
love God for they have no care about anything that concerns Him. They
do not refrain from sin because sin would grieve God. The idea of
grieving God, perhaps, has not crossed their minds– so they vex the
Holy Spirit most thoughtlessly. But, ah, if you love anyone, you will
not likely cause him grief–you will not do the evil thing which he
hates.

He that loves God will often have a check put upon him and feel that he
cannot do this great wickedness and sin against God. To sin against God
is the greatest of sin and the essence of sin. The venom of sin lies
there. This makes sin so exceedingly sinful that it is against the God
of Love. But if you never felt that, then you do not love Him and, for
certain, you are not forgiven. Look at others–they do not love God,
for they do not care for His house where His people meet. They seldom
come to the meeting for worship, and if they come it is from some other
motive than to meet with God. They do not care for His day. Sundays are
very dreary in London, so they say. There is nothing to interest them
for they have no interest in the great Father, or His Incarnate
Son–they have no desire to hear of Him or to praise Him, or to pray to

Him.

They do not care for His Bible though it is a world of delights and
comforts. The Bible is perfumed with the love of God but they perceive
not its fragrance. The Savior's face is to be seen reflected in almost
every page and yet some think that the Bible is more dull than an old
almanac and though they must keep it in their house–for it is
respectable to have a copy of it–yet to read it and to read it with
pleasure–why, that has never happened to them! Nor is there any
likelihood that it ever will unless they get made anew. Nor do they
care for God's people. In fact, they like a quiet joke against
Christian people and sometimes, if they can see faults in them–and,
oh, how readily they may!–they report those faults with considerable
exaggerations and feel pleased to eat up the faults of God's people as
they eat bread!

Lack of love to the children argues lack of love to their Father. "He
that loves Him that begat, loves him also that is begotten of Him." We
know that we love God when we love His children. But if in your heart
there is no such love to His children, to His Book, to His day, to His
house, or to His service, you may rest quite certain, my Friend, that
your guilt still clings to you. You are not pardoned and God will
require that which is past and call you to account. For every secret
thing He will bring you into judgment and for every idle word that you
have spoken He will take reckoning of you.

Ah, how sad it is that when I am longing to speak joyously about the
love that arises out of pardoned sin, I am compelled, for pity's sake,
to turn aside to give a warning to many who, having no love to God,
prove by that fact that they have never been forgiven! So I leave the
first point. It is supposed in the text and taken for granted that all
pardoned sinners will love Him who has pardoned them.

II. But now, secondly, IT IS SUGGESTED IN THE TEXT THAT THERE ARE
DIFFERENCES IN THE DEGREES OF LOVE TO GOD. "Tell me therefore, which of
them will love him most." These words evidently show that some persons
love God more than others and that, albeit there must be a sincere love
to God in all pardoned sinners, yet there is not the same degree of
love. Love is evidently a Divine Grace which is not stereotyped and
cast in a mold so as to be the same in every case and at every time.

Love is a thing of life–it is, therefore, a thing of growth. It is
certainly so in our own selves. There was a time when we did not love
God so much as we do now. And I grieve to say that there are even now
times when we do not love God so much as we once did, for we grow cold
and backsliding. Love is not like a piece of cast iron, fixed and set.
It grows and has its times of budding, flowering and leaf-shedding. It
is like a fire–at one time it may burn low and at another time it may
be blown up to a very vehement heat. Love rises and falls–I speak not
of God's love to us–but of our love to God. It has its ups and downs,
its summers and its winters, its flood tides and its ebbs. And if we
find a change in love in the same heart, we are not at all astonished
that it should differ in different hearts!

Besides, we know that there are differences in love because there are
differences in all the other Divine Graces. Faith– some men have much
faith. God be thanked that there are men of strong faith still on the
face of the earth! But there are others who have a faith which, though
a true faith, is a very weak one. It is a trembling faith. It cannot
walk the waves with Peter, but it can sink with him and it can cry out
for deliverance. Faith, in some Christians, seems to be a very feeble
affair. As I said the other day, they hardly know whether it is faith
or unbelief. Their cry is, "Lord, I believe! Help my unbelief," as if
they had made a mistake in calling it faith at all for it was so mixed
with unbelief.

It is not always such an infant Grace, for there are strong Believers
who have turned to fight the armies of the aliens–men who have borne
their cross without impatience and their testimony without
cowardice–men who have conquered sin and lived in holiness and brought
glory to God. Faith, like a ladder, has its lower and its higher
rounds. Faith has its dawning, its noon, its shade. We are sure that it
is so, for we have observed it in ourselves and seen it in others. We
have seen it great and we have seen it little. The practical point I
would reach is just this. Let us look, first of all, to our love in its
sincerity. What if my love may not be compared with yours as to degree?
Yet the Lord grant that I may truly love Him.

Peter could not say that he loved Christ more than others, but he did
say, "You know all things; You know that I love You." A little pearl is
a pearl as much as a great one, though every one of us would sooner
have the greater pearl. There is the Queen's image on a four-penny
piece as certainly as there is upon the sovereign–though we would all
prefer the golden coin! There is the image of God on all His people's
faith and love, whether great or little. The main thing with the coin
is to be sure that it is genuine metal. So, if love is real love, that
is the main point. Do you love the Lord with all

your heart? If so, strive to have more love but do not fling away what
you have, for you would thus despise what the Spirit of God has worked
in you.

Endeavor also, dear Friends, to have growing love. Do not be satisfied
to be today what you were 12 months ago. I am afraid that some
Christians do not grow much. I am very glad when I see them grow
downward when they are rooted in humility, when they have truer views
of themselves than they ever had and a deeper sense of their
indebtedness to God. That is good growth. Try to have, however, a love
that grows so that you may more forcibly love Jesus Christ than you did
in days that are past. Say to yourself, "Well, if I have ever so little
love, it shall be practical love, I will show it. I will be doing
something for my Lord."

The woman, by whose means this parable was called forth, loved Christ
so that she brought her alabaster box of ointment and anointed His feet
and washed them with tears–and wiped them with the hair of her head.
And one of the best ways to make love grow is to use all the love you
have. Is it not so with merchants and their money? If they want to
increase their capital, they trade with it. If you want to increase
your love to Jesus, use it! Do not merely talk about it but actually
serve Him under its sweet constraint. It is a very poor Christianity
that consists in sitting still and dreaming and never attempting any
practical service for Jesus, our Lord.

He that thinks that he will quietly enjoy religion all alone will soon
find that he has very little of it to enjoy–for doubts and fears will
breed in swarms in a stagnant atmosphere. Where there is none of the
blessed wind of activity, there will soon be mists and damp–perhaps
foul gas and fevers. And if you have but little love at present, cry to
God to give you a more intense love and, though I have said that to use
your love is a good way to increase it, yet there is something still
better, and that is to know more and feel more of the love of Christ to
you. If you exercise, you will increase your sense of warmth–but it
will be a far surer thing if you get where the sun shines with
equatorial heat–so other means are good but to get near to Jesus is
best of all. In proportion as you live close to the glorious central
sun of the love of Christ, you will, yourself, be warm.

I was about to compare the heart of my Lord to a volcanic mountain
constantly streaming with the burning lava of love. Oh, that my soul
could but get that fire-stream poured into it to set the whole of my
nature on fire and consume me in the flame-torrent of love! You see
that it is suggested in the text that there are differences in the
degrees of love and there let us leave it, for we must come to the
third point.

III. Thirdly, THE TEXT PUTS TO US A QUESTION, "WHO WILL LOVE HIM MOST?"
I want to introduce the question to you by saying that it is a very
interesting one. After what the Lord has done for us, one takes
pleasure in thinking what will come of it. One likes to think of the
farmer's harvest. After all that plowing and sowing, what will come of
it? It is interesting to begin to calculate the crop and to anticipate
the shouts of harvest home.

Now, what will come of infinite love–the supreme act of God's heart to
men? What will come out of the gift of His Only-Begotten Son and the
putting away of sin through the death of Jesus? What will men do for
God after this? How much will they love Him? It is an interesting
question. What have you to say upon it? And it is a personal question
which the Lord puts to each one of us. You know He put it to Simon.
"Tell Me," He said, "which of them will love him most?" And He puts it
to us to consider it, to turn it over and to give our own verdict
because there may be some blunder in our heart which this question is
meant to set right–and the thoughts which the enquiry will cause in
the spirit are meant to correct our judgments.

Therefore do not put it aside, but try now to answer it as the Lord
puts it. It is a practical question–"Which of them will love him
most?"–for everything in conduct depends upon love. Where there is
much love, there is sure to be much service in proportion to the
strength. Give us a Church that loves Christ Jesus much–you will have
mighty Prayer Meetings! You will have a holy membership! You will have
liberal giving to the cause of Christ! You will have hearty praising of
His name! You will have careful walking before the world! You will have
earnest endeavors for the conversion of sinners! Missions at home and
abroad will be set on foot when love is fervent.

When the heart is right, everything is likely to be right. But when the
heart goes wrong, oh, what a fatal thing it is! A disease of the heart
is looked upon as the worst of mischiefs that can happen to a man. One
old doctor of my acquaintance used to say, "We can do nothing with the
heart." God keep us from a diseased heart–a fatty degeneration of the
heart, or an ossification of the heart towards the Lord Jesus Christ!
The question asked in the text is, however, a somewhat limited one. It
is this. The question is not, "Who in all the world will love Christ
most?"–but who out of two

persons, in whom there is no particular difference of character, but
only this one difference–that the one owes 500 pence and the other
50–which out of these two will love Christ more?

We will suppose that they are equally tender of heart and equally
regenerate and that they do know, each of them, certainly, that his
debt has been discharged. The only difference between them is that one
has been a grosser sinner than the other. And the question asked is,
"Which of those two will love the Savior most?" It is a very simple
question, too, not at all hard to answer–for even this Simon, the
Pharisee, who, like the rest of the Pharisees, was very badly
instructed, yet, nevertheless, could see his way to answer the question
correctly. So he answered, "I suppose that he, to whom he forgave
most." And the Lord replied, "You have rightly judged." Thus I have set
before you the question.

IV. And so, lastly, IT IS EXPECTED THAT WE GIVE A REPLY. And I wish for
myself–and therefore wish the

same for you–that each one of us may say, "I am the man that ought to
love the Lord Jesus most and, by His Grace, I will surely do so." The
most indebted should love most. Have we not here many 500-pence
debtors? Some of my dear Brethren, here present, were, among outward
sinners, the very chief–men who could drink and swear and lie–
ringleaders in everything that was evil.

Blessed be God that such have been here led to Jesus! We heard the
other night a dear Brother tell us of what he used to be. With modesty
and shamefacedness he mentioned how great his sin had been–but his sin
was put away–he was pardoned and he knew it! And he rejoiced in it.
Such a man must say, "I will love Him most." Where there has been overt
sin, palpable, undeniable–where the outward character has been defiled
and stained with it–forgiveness involves us in deep obligation to
grateful love. You may stand in the front rank and love Jesus most.

But I am not going to let you rise to that eminence of obligation, or
rather sink to that depth of indebtedness without having a struggle for
it myself. Some of us take that place of eminent obligation on another
ground and yet it is the same ground–for while some of us were never
openly profane, or drunken, or immoral–we have to confess the equal
greatness of our sin on account of our offending against light and
knowledge.

We sinned greatly against early convictions, against a holy training,
against a tender conscience, against singular favors received from
God–and therefore with shame we begin to take the lowest
place–acknowledging that to us belongs the greatest debt of grateful
praise to God. When I was preaching once, I said–and I meant it–that
I should be the deepest debtor to Divine Grace that ever entered the
gates of Glory–and I ventured to say–

"Then loudest of the crowd I'll sing, While Heaven's resounding
mansions ring, With shouts of Sovereign Grace."

It was in a country place and as I came down the pulpit stairs many
clustered about me to shake hands. And one old lady said to me, "You
made one great blunder in your sermon." I said, "My dear Soul, I dare
say I made a dozen. I am a great blunderer." "No," she said, "but you
said that you would sing the loudest when you get to Heaven–but you
shall not, for I owe more to Divine Grace than you possibly can. I was
once a great sinner and I have had much forgiven. And therefore I shall
praise God more than you." I did not yield the point, but I held my
tongue. I could let her be first and yet take the same place myself! As
I went down the aisle many friends declared that they would not give
way to me in that point and that they ought to praise God more than I,
for they owed Him more.

It was a happy controversy! It reminded me of Ralph Erskine's,
Contention among the Birds of Paradise, where he represents the saints
in Glory, each saying that he shall lie the lowest and shall praise the
most sweetly the infinite love of God. I think that there are grounds
upon which some here, who have been kept from everything which is
outwardly evil, may, nevertheless, feel that inwardly they are
500-pence debtors–and so, when the question is asked, "Which will love
Him most?" they will say, "Why, I! I was not so honest as some of those
wicked fellows. I did not dare to say all they said, nor to be openly
vile as they were–but I was quite as bad at heart and if I dare have
had my full swing–I should have been as base as they were."

But I do not think that the spirit of the parable is exhausted by
either of these cases. I think it includes more. There are some who
evidently have not had more forgiven than others as to outward sin. On
the contrary, they have been prudently brought up from their childhood
and yet for many a year they have been foremost in service and have
been special lovers of the Lord. Though by no means great offenders in
their unconverted state, they are certainly great saints now–they are
intense in their service, consistent in their character, fervent in
their love. How is it that some who shout

that they have been snatched from the burning and according to their
own statement were the very chief of sinners–and make a great
trumpet-blowing over their own conversion–yet do not love the Lord
Jesus one half so much as these dear, quiet souls who never went into
open sin?

I take it the reason is this. Our estimate of sin is, after all, the
thing which will create and inflame our love. If a man thinks sin to be
exceedingly sinful and feels it to be so, he has a deeper sense of his
indebtedness than the man who may have committed grosser vices but has
never seen them in their real blackness–as they appear in the light of
God's Countenance. Too many Believers know little of what it is to be
amazed and astounded at the heinousness of their transgressions. Why,
time was with me–and is now–when, if I had inadvertently spoken a
word that was not exactly true, it cost me more pain to think of what
was only a hasty error than it has cost many men to repent of their
cursing and swearing!

I am sorry to say it, but I believe that some make a glory of their
shame and dare to brag of what they used to be. They stand up and make
confession without a tear in their eye, or a blush on their cheek. Such
testimony ought never to be heard for it is a positive creator of evil
in the minds of those that hear it! I am sorry to have to say it but I
know that it is so. Testimonies are published which are inducements to
vice and tend to make men immoral, rather than to make them turn to
God! In certain circles he is treated as a hero who can prove that he
has been a great rascal. It was not thus that the prodigal was received
by his father–he never hung up his old rags as a trophy!

O Brothers and Sisters, when we talk about what we were, we had better
veil our faces! Our former follies are things to be confessed to God in
secret–and if they must be spoken in public, to the praise of Divine
Grace–there must be a careful avoidance of anything like boasting, for
it is a shame even to speak of the things that were done of them in
secret. When there is really a deep sense of sin, there is a holy,
delicate way of speaking of it. Old sins are not to be talked of as an
old soldier shoulders his crutch and shows how fields were won. A
crimson blush is the best color to wear when we speak of our lost
estate. To talk smilingly of injuries done to the delicacy of our own
conscience–of awful injuries done to others by foul example–is not to
glorify God but to enthrone vice!

And, dear Friends, I believe that some whom God has preserved by
preventing Grace from going into great sin, will, nevertheless, love
Him most because they have a clearer view than others of what it cost
in order that they might be pardoned. Happy are they who remember well
the griefs of our Lord in the Garden of Gethsemane–

"There's never a gift His hand bestows But cost His heart a groan."

Oh, if your heart dwells on Calvary, where falls the crimson shower of
Christ's most precious blood–if you gaze intently upon the wounds of
Jesus till you die into the death of the Crucified–then do you love
Him much! It is well to have the soul torn with anguish because–

"It cost HIM cries and tears To bring us near to God: Great was our
debt, And He appears To make the payment good."

Remember, in proportion as you estimate the Sacrifice, you will love
Him who was the Sacrifice for sin. Brothers and Sisters, I hope you all
love Christ Jesus more than I do, for I would have Him possess the
highest love of every human heart–and yet I will not be willingly
excelled by any one of you in a competition of love to Jesus. I will
run my very best that no man take my crown

But supposing, dear Friends, any of you do love Him most–then show it
just as that woman did who brought the alabaster box of precious
ointment. If you love Him most, do most. Do everything that is humanly
possible, quickened by the Spirit of God. If you have done much, do 10
times more! Never talk of what you have done, but go on to something
else. An officer rode up to his general, and said, "Sir, we have taken
two guns from the enemy." "It is well," said the general, "Take two
more." If you have most love to Christ, do most spiritual good to men.
Yet do something distinctly for Jesus.

It is a blessed token for good when our work among men is not so much
for the sake of sinners as for love of Jesus. When we love the Brethren
it should be because they belong to Christ. It is sweet to serve the
Lord Christ Himself. See how the holy woman offered homage distinctly
to her Lord–tears for His travel stains–hair to wipe His feet,
ointment

to anoint His flesh. Do your choicest and best for Jesus, for Jesus
personally. Try to do it most humbly. Stand behind Him. Do not ask
anybody to look at you. Do it very quietly. Do it feeling that it is a
great honor to be permitted to do the least service for Jesus. Do not
dream of saying, "I am somebody. I am doing great things. I do more,
even, than Simon the Pharisee. Come see my zeal for the Lord of Hosts."

Jehu talked in that fashion–but he was good for nothing. Do your
personal part without seeking to be seen of men. Do it
self-sacrificingly. Bring your best ointment. Pinch yourself for
Christ. Make sacrifices–go without this and that to have something
which you can do Him honor. Do it very penitently. When you serve Him
best, still let the tears fall on His feet, mingling with the costly
ointment. The tears and the ointment go well together. Mourn your guilt
while you rejoice in His Grace. Do it continuously. "This woman," said
Christ, "since I came in has not ceased to kiss My feet." Do not leave
off loving Him and serving Him. Do it on and on and on–however much
the flesh may ask for respite from service. Do it enthusiastically. See
how she kissed His feet–nothing less than this would express her love!

Stoop down and kiss and kiss again those blessed feet which traveled so
far in love for you! Throw your whole soul into your deed of love.
"Why," they will say, "Mrs. So-and-So is enthusiastic! She is quite
carried away by her zeal." Let it be true more and more! Never mind
what the cold-hearted think, for they cannot understand you. They will
say, "Ah, that young person is too fast by half." Never mind. Be faster
still! Wise people cry out, "He has too many irons in the fire." But I
say to you, heat up the fire! Get all the irons red hot and hammer away
with all your might! With all your strength and energy plunge into the
service of your Master! If you love your Master, you can best show your
love by ardent service. The Lord bless you with the utmost degree of
love, for Jesus Christ's sake! Amen.

PORTIONS OF SCRIPTURE READ BEFORE SERMON– Psalm 18.