The general meaning is plain enough. The “hate of hate,” the “scorn of scorn,” is not the Christian ideal. I am not to allow my enemy always to settle the terms on which we are to be. Why should I scowl back at him, though he frowns at me? It is hard work, as we all know, to repress the retort that would wound and be so neat. It is hard not to repay slights and offences in kind. But, if the basis of our dispositions to others be laid in a wise and lowly estimate of ourselves, such graces of conduct will be possible, and they will give beauty to our characters.
“Forbearing and forgiving” are not new virtues. They are meekness and long-suffering in exercise, and if we were right in saying that “long-suffering” was not soon angry, and “meekness” was not angry at all, then “forbearance” would correspond to the former and “forgiveness” to the latter; for a man may exercise forbearance, and bite his lips till the blood come rather than speak, and violently constrain himself to keep calm and do nothing unkind, and yet all the while seven devils may be in his spirit; while forgiveness, on the other hand, is an entire wiping of all enmity and irritation clean out of the heart.
Such is the Apostle’s outline sketch of the Christian character in its social aspect, all rooted in pity, and full of soft compassion; quick to apprehend, to feel, and to succour sorrow; a kindliness, equable and widespread, illuminating all who come within its reach; a patient acceptance of wrongs without resentment or revenge, because a lowly judgment of self and its claims, a spirit schooled to calmness under all provocations, disdaining to requite wrong by wrong, and quick to forgive.
The question may well be asked—is that a type of character which the world generally admires? Is it not uncommonly like what most people would call “a poor spiritless creature.” It was “a new man,” most emphatically, when Paul drew that sketch, for the heathen world had never seen anything like it. It is a “new man” still; for although the modern world has had some kind of Christianity—at least has had a Church—for all these centuries, that is not the kind of character which is its ideal. Look at the heroes of history and of literature. Look at the tone of so much contemporary biography and criticism of public actions. Think of the ridicule which is poured on the attempt to regulate politics by Christian principles, or, as a distinguished soldier called them in public recently, “puling principles.” It may be true that Christianity has not added any new virtues to those which are prescribed by natural conscience, but it has most certainly altered the perspective of the whole, and created a type of excellence, in which the gentler virtues predominate, and the novelty of which is proved by the reluctance of the so-called Christian world to recognise it even yet.
By the side of its serene and lofty beauty, the “heroic virtues” embodied in the world’s type of excellence show vulgar and glaring, like some daub representing a soldier, the sign-post of a public-house, by the side of Angelico’s white-robed visions on the still convent walls. The highest exercise of these more gaudy and conspicuous qualities is to produce the pity and meekness of the Christian ideal. More self-command, more heroic firmness, more contempt for the popular estimate, more of everything strong and manly, will find a nobler field in subduing passion and cherishing forgiveness, which the world thinks folly and spiritless, than anywhere else. Better is he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city.
The great pattern and motive of forgiveness is next set forth. We are to forgive as Christ has forgiven us; and that “as” may be applied either as meaning “in like manner,” or as meaning “because.” The Revised Version, with many others, adopts the various reading of “the Lord,” instead of “Christ,” which has the advantage of recalling the parable that was no doubt in Paul’s mind, about the servant who, having been forgiven by his “Lord” all his great debt, took his fellow-servant by the throat and squeezed the last farthing out of him.
The great transcendent act of God’s mercy brought to us by Christ’s cross is sometimes, as in the parallel passage in Ephesians, spoken of as “God for Christ’s sake forgiving us,” and sometimes as here, Christ is represented as forgiving. We need not pause to do more than point to that interchange of Divine office and attributes, and ask what notion of Christ’s person underlies it.
We have already had the death of Christ set forth as in a very profound sense our pattern. Here we have one special case of the general law that the life and death of our Lord are the embodied ideal of human character and conduct. His forgiveness is not merely revealed to us that trembling hearts may be calm, and that a fearful looking for of judgment may no more trouble a foreboding conscience. For whilst we must ever begin with cleaving to it as our hope, we must never stop there. A heart touched and softened by pardon will be a heart apt to pardon, and the miracle of forgiveness which has been wrought for it will constitute the law of its life as well as the ground of its joyful security.
This new pattern and new motive, both in one, make the true novelty and specific difference of Christian morality. “As I have loved you,” makes the commandment “love one another” a new commandment. And all that is difficult in obedience becomes easier by the power of that motive. Imitation of one whom we love is instinctive. Obedience to one whom we love is delightful. The far off ideal becomes near and real in the person of our best friend. Bound to him by obligations so immense, and a forgiveness so costly and complete, we shall joyfully yield to “the cords of love” which draw us after Him. We have each to choose what shall be the pattern for us. The world takes Cæsar, the hero; the Christian takes Christ, in whose meekness is power, and whose gentle long-suffering has been victor in a sterner conflict than any battle of the warrior with garments rolled in blood.
Paul says, “Even as the Lord forgave you, so also do ye.” The Lord’s prayer teaches us to ask, Forgive us our trespasses, as we also forgive. In the one case Christ’s forgiveness is the example and the motive for ours. In the other, our forgiveness is the condition of God’s. Both are true. We shall find the strongest impulse to pardon others in the consciousness that we have been pardoned by Him. And if we have grudgings against our offending brother in our hearts, we shall not be conscious of the tender forgiveness of our Father in heaven. That is no arbitrary limitation, but inherent in the very nature of the case.