If then so much enjoyment is derived by mankind from the exercise of mutual love, how much more from the love of God—the pure, the gracious, the ever blessed God; “who loadeth us with His benefits;” who made us what we are, and gave us what we have; who created us for His glory, who redeemed us from sin and death, who sanctifieth all that trust in Him, that they may be happy for ever: in a word, whose goodness to us knows no bounds, but those which are set by our own perverseness and ingratitude. Almighty and most merciful Father, “whom have I in heaven but Thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside Thee.” [136] “Graft in our hearts the love of Thy name;” we cannot love Thee as Thou hast loved us; but give us the grace to love Thee with holy sincerity; with that devout and reverent affection, which shall render all other objects of desire comparatively indifferent to us, and make us satisfied with Thy favour, whatever else we want; which shall calm our apprehensions, when we think of an hereafter; and allay the uneasiness which arises in our breasts, when we reflect upon Thine infinite holiness, and our own degenerate condition.
Perhaps it may be imagined, that this is a state of blessedness attainable by few, if any, upon earth: some may urge the text against us, and say that this blessedness is promised only to perfect love, which mortals can never hope to attain; and that it is inconsistent with those numerous passages of Scripture, which admonish us of the necessity of fear; that in the admirable collect of our Church for this day, [137] we are instructed to pray for “a perpetual fear and love of God’s holy name.” How then can we possess the love which casteth out fear? I will endeavour to reply to these observations; and pray God that we may all derive, from the consideration of this subject, a more true and lively and abiding sense of the nature and necessity of that love towards Him, which, as His adopted children and the inheritors of His kingdom, we are absolutely bound to entertain.
Unquestionably true it is, that the fear of God is, and ever has been, indispensable to all His faithful servants; as well under the mild dispensation of the gospel, as under the severer discipline of the law. “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” [138a] “Surely his salvation is nigh them that fear Him.” [138b] “Unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of Righteousness arise, with healing in His wings.” [138c] And accordingly the Apostle observes, “In every nation, he that feareth Him, and worketh righteousness, is accepted with Him.” [138d] “His mercy is on them that fear Him, from generation to generation.” [138e] But what is the nature of this fear? It is not a slavish principle, not a disturbing and distressful feeling. It consists in an awful sense of God’s glorious perfections; of His divine Majesty, unspotted purity, infinite knowledge and power; of His presence pervading every part of the creation, even the very mind of every intellectual being; such a sense, as to fill us with the deepest humility, perceiving ourselves unworthy even to stand in the sight of Him, “who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity;” such a sense, habitually impressed upon the heart, as inclines and constrains us to “follow the good” which He loves, and “depart from the evil” which He abhors.
And this principle is plainly and entirely consistent with the sincerest love: our love indeed is powerfully increased by the reflection, that our heavenly Father, of whose attributes we form conceptions so awful and sublime, should condescend to bestow such regard upon His frail and fallen, His disobedient and rebellious children; it may teach us to exclaim with the liveliest emotions of gratitude, as well as with humble adoration and astonishment, “Lord, what is man that Thou art mindful of him, and the son of man that Thou visitest him?” [139] Good reason, therefore, had the framers of our Liturgy, for directing us to implore the united influence of a perpetual fear and love of God’s holy name.
But the fear spoken of in the text is of another kind; it relates to uneasy and distressful apprehensions respecting our acceptance with God; to a feeling of doubt and distrust, whether we are, in deed and in truth, partakers of the gracious promises of the gospel; whether we are living in a state of reconciliation with God; whether we have within us that earnest of the Holy Spirit, which is the pledge and seal of our redemption; whether, in a word, we are objects of God’s favour here, and have a well-grounded hope of his mercy hereafter.
That this is the state of mind represented to us by the beloved Apostle, is clear from his own reasoning; “for fear,” says he, “hath torment:” now the fear of God, as above described, has no torment at all; it makes us humble, and fills as with reverential awe, but it tends to comfort and peace. We could not entirely love a Being, whose manifestation inspired us with terror and dismay; and this is the very reason why many, when they come seriously to consider their condition, are filled with confusion and alarm; because they do not love God in sincerity and truth: their affections have been set on the world; and therefore their title to salvation, upon the terms proposed to them in the gospel, is clearly insufficient; they have served other masters, and have reason to tremble for their reward from the great Lord and Master in heaven; they have employed their talents for other purposes, than those for which they were committed, and therefore, when they think of making up their accounts, their lord presents himself as “an austere man,” exacting more than they will be able to render: no man can heartily love God, without an entire obedience of the heart; this they have never shewn, and therefore have never loved Him: how then can they expect His favour; how can they reflect upon their condition with composure and comfort?
Truly is it said, that such fear hath torment; for of all the uneasiness which the mind can suffer here, the most painful is that, which is produced from an apprehension of “the terrors of the Lord;” better not to have known the greatness of the salvation promised, than to neglect the means of securing it; better not to have heard of an hereafter, than to have a reasonable dread upon the spirits, what that hereafter shall be. They who have greater cause for fear than for hope, must, if they are given to meditate and look forward, find it cast a dismal shade over every scene and prospect of life; they may contrive to drown their serious thoughts, in the midst of worldly pursuits and intemperate pleasures; but this is only for the passing hour; they cannot possibly think, that their condition is thus really improved. But why take so much pains to mitigate or conceal a misery, which it is in our power, by God’s gracious mercy, effectually to prevent? Escape from these torments of the conscience by a sincere devotedness to the service of your Almighty Father, in the gospel of His beloved Son; by cherishing in the heart that “perfect love for Him, which casteth out fear.”
Yet is this possible, it may be said, for weak and imperfect man? Is it not rather a state at which we should aim, than one at which we can ever hope to arrive? Certainly the imperfect creature can never attain to actual perfection in any moral or spiritual duty; but his will and desire may be perfect, though his service is not; and in this sense, the duty of perfect love is equally binding upon all believers. It is a very common persuasion, and dangerous as it is common, that the standard of christian duty is raised much higher in the gospel, than it is necessary for the generality of Christians even to think of reaching; that some of the commands, there given, are intended only for the chosen few, more eminent than the rest of mankind in spiritual attainments; and thus too many professing disciples of our Lord, imagining themselves not bound by such extensive obligations, are content with measures of obedience, infinitely less than those, which are positively required; content with a state of heart and life, far short of that, which the gospel recognises and injoins. But this is a mere delusion, to suit the wayward fancy and the corrupt inclination of man: where do we read in the Bible of such limitations and exceptions? Where do we find one set of rules for eminent Christians, and another for Christians in general? Are not all its precepts, and all its principles, and all its instructions, of universal obligation? When the Saviour promised His divine blessings to “the poor in spirit,” to them that “hunger and thirst after righteousness,” to “the pure in heart;” were the conditions intended only for the disciples around Him on the mount? Were they not also designed for His followers in every age? And when the Lord commanded Moses to “speak unto all the congregation of the children of Israel, and say unto them, Be ye holy, for I the Lord your God, am holy,” [144] does the precept concern only the people of old? Is it not equally applicable to Christians? Yea, it is urged upon us all by the mouth of an Apostle. [145] The same is true of every spiritual doctrine, every moral command recorded in the Book of Life: there is no means of grace, no measure of obedience ordained, which a Christian can safely neglect.
Whatever, therefore, be meant in the text by perfect love, that love it is the bounden and necessary duty of us all to attain and to cherish. And what is really meant by this expression, may be most readily and fully understood from a precept of the divine law, as confirmed and enforced by our blessed Redeemer; “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God, with all thine heart and with all thy soul and with all thy strength.” This is the love described in the text; perfect in kind, as admitting of no rival principle, of no competition with “the world or the things that are in the world,” with any or all of them together; imperfect in degree, on account of the infirmity of our faith, of the weakness and corruption of human nature.
We cannot be at a loss to understand this distinction; yet it may be further illustrated by an example from ordinary life. The most affectionate and dutiful child will fail occasionally to please and obey its parent; but there will be a constant desire and endeavour to please: to have excited the parent’s displeasure, will bring uneasiness and sorrow; and therefore the violations of duty will be neither wilful nor habitual. And this sincere affection, for a kind and good parent, never ceases to produce delight; the child indeed, feeling so much respect and reverence, will be afraid of offending, afraid of the unworthiness, afraid of the dishonour; yet the service of obedience is rendered from choice, and not from constraint; with emotions of joy, with a grateful endearment of soul: slavish terror there is none; it is banished by the overpowering principle of love.