XXII.
"YE KNOW THE GRACE."[[1]]
Ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might be rich.—2 Cor. viii. 9.
To the rich, commonly, what is more terrible than poverty? So great, sometimes, their dread of it, that they seek to avoid or avert it by measures the most dishonorable and even the most desperate. Rather than be poor, many will practise the worst hypocrisies or commit the greatest crimes. For thirty pieces of silver, more than one Judas has sold his Saviour to the murderers and his own soul to Satan; and to escape the possible condition of Lazarus at his gate, many a Dives has slain himself in his palace. Horrified at such insanity, we scarcely wonder at the fear from which it springs. The noblest spirits quake at the thought of want, and a prospective reverse of fortune is enough to make the bravest quail.
Yet are there cases on record in which men and women, for some worthy principle, have cheerfully welcomed absolute privation, or patiently endured the destitution of all things. The fear of God, the love of truth, devotion to duty, domestic affection, patriotic sentiment, disinterested philanthropy—have not some of these again and again led the dwellers in palaces to the hovel and the hermitage, substituting for the downy couch a pallet of straw, for the purple and fine linen a suit of sack-cloth, and for the daily sumptuous banquet a crust of bread and a cup of water? While we recognize in such cases only a conscientious service rendered to God or a life of superior charity to his rational and immortal creatures, we can but admire and honor the noble principle that thus renounces the conveniences and advantages of high birth and ample fortune for the lowest conditions of civilized humanity. The impulse is divine; the spirit is that of Christ. Some become poor through misfortune, some through improvidence, some through criminal indulgence, these through stanch adherence to duty. If they had not relinquished their riches, they must have repudiated the authority of conscience and let go their hold on virtue. Poverty has saved its thousands, where wealth has ruined its tens of thousands.
Here we are reminded of One who was originally rich beyond all human conception, but became poorer than the poorest that ever trod the earth—not because he desired the change, nor because he could not help it, nor because it was his bounden duty, nor because a superior bade him, nor because the perishing implored him, but because he loved us with an infinite love—beyond all imagination of men or angels.
"'Twas mercy moved his heavenly mind,
And pity brought him down."
First, then, we must think of the poverty of Christ as the manifestation of his grace. What was it but purest goodness, gratuitous favor, unmerited compassion, that moved him to forsake his glory and become the brother of worms and the Man of sorrows? What saw he in this revolted province of his boundless empire, that he should come to seek and save the self-destroyed? Among all the myriads of Adam's children, what one quality was there worthy of his love? Who solicited his aid, or repented of his own sin? What obligation pressed or necessity impelled the Saviour? Had he remained indifferent to our helpless woes in the heavenly mansions, who could have impeached one of his perfections? Had he smitten this guilty planet from its orbit, and sent it staggering among the stars—a reprobate world—a warning to the universe of the ruin wrought by sin—might not the minstrelsy of heaven have chanted over its catastrophe—"Just and true are thy ways, thou King of saints!" Perfectly he foreknew all that awaited him in his mission of mercy; yet with what divine alacrity did he vacate his throne, leave the bosom of his Father, and retire from the adoring host of heaven—as if a loftier throne, a more loving bosom, and a worthier concourse of worshippers, were ready to greet him in the world to which he came!
"O love that passeth knowledge! words are vain!
Language is lost in wonder so divine!"
Secondly, we must consider the poverty of Christ in contrast with his previous riches. How much we commiserate the poor who have seen better days! His better days what human art shall depict or finite mind conceive? Lift up your thoughts to the glorious state of the Eternal Son in the bosom of God the Father. As yet the worlds are not; no star reflects his smile, nor seraph chants his praise; but, possessed of every divine excellence in the most transcendent degree, he has within himself an infinite source of happiness. Now he arises to the work of creation, and myriads of self-luminous suns, each with his retinue of rejoicing planets, begin their eternal march around his throne. All are his, created by him and for him; and all their countless billions of rational and immortal beings own him as their supreme Lord, and adore him as the sole giver of every good and perfect gift. Down from all this glory he descended into one of the poorest provinces of his illimitable realm, assuming the frail and suffering nature of its fallen people,