Before he became a Christian he had the prospect of rising to a position of great honor and great profit in connection with the Jewish church. But he gave this all up at the time of his conversion. He tells us that, “what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ. Yea, doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus, my Lord.” Phil. iii: 7, 8. There is something very touching in the record which this great apostle has left us of his sufferings for Christ. He speaks of himself as having been—“In labors more abundant, in stripes above measure, in prisons more frequent, in deaths oft. Of the Jews five times received I forty stripes save one. Thrice I was beaten with rods, once was I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck, a night and a day I have been in the deep. In journeyings often, in perils of water, in perils of robbers, in perils by mine own countrymen, in perils by the heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brethren. In weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness.” II. Cor. xi: 23-28. What a marvellous record of sufferings we have here! There is perhaps nothing like it to be found in the whole history of the Church of Christ. And yet the apostle never had a word of complaint to make. The spirit in which he bore his sufferings for Christ is beautifully illustrated in the glimpse we have of him in the prison at Philippi. His back had been torn with cruel scourges. His feet were made fast in the stocks. We might have expected that he would spend that night in sighing and crying. But, instead of this, we read that—“At midnight, Paul and Silas,”—his companion in labor and suffering—“prayed, and sang praises to God.” Acts xvi: 25. Surely this should make us ashamed of complaining on account of any trifling suffering we may have to bear in the cause of our great Master. And Paul had no relief from these sufferings. He went on bearing them cheerfully to the very close of his life. How was he able to do this? There is only one answer to give to this question. It was his love for Jesus that made him so willing to labor and to suffer for him. And if we love Jesus, we should be willing to suffer for him, too.
Here is a striking illustration of the way in which real love will make one willing to suffer even for a friend or fellow-creature. We may call it:
“Love Triumphing Over Suffering.” Some years ago a fine church was built in one of the towns in Belgium. It was all finished at last, except the fastening of the weather-vane on the top of the steeple. The scaffolding was not high enough to reach it. There was no way in which the work could be done, but for one workman to stand on the highest part of the scaffolding and let the other workman stand on his shoulders, while he put the vane on the steeple, and soldered it in its place. A brave-hearted, broad-shouldered workman agreed to stand there for this purpose. He took his position, holding on to a piece of scaffolding. His companion climbed up and stood on his shoulders. The vane and vessel of melted lead were handed up to him. It was a perilous thing to do. A crowd of spectators below watched the operation almost breathless with anxiety. The moments seem like hours, as the work goes on. At last it is done. The men come down amidst the shouts of the multitude. But, when the brave man who had borne his friend on his shoulders reached the bottom of the ladder, he fell exhausted to the earth, and had to be carried home. Then it was found that the poor fellow’s back was in a dreadful state. While the man was doing his work on the vane, some of the melted lead had dropped down on the friend who was supporting him. But he stood bravely still. He would not move an inch, for that would have caused the death of his companion. Here was love triumphing over suffering. And if that brave man was willing to bear all this for his earthly friend, what should we not be willing to bear for Christ, “the friend who sticketh closer than a brother?”
In the next place the apostle Paul was great in his influence. Suppose we could have a history written of all the persons who were converted by the preaching of this apostle during his life; and then of all who were converted by them, and so on, from one generation to another, down to our own times, what a wonderfully interesting history that would be! Or suppose we could trace out, in the same way, all the good that has been done by the writings of this apostle; the persons who have been brought to Jesus by reading the truths found in those writings, or who have been instructed, or guided, or comforted, encouraged, and helped by the same—how surprising it would be! Then we should see, indeed, how great this influence has been!
There are twenty-one epistles in the New Testament. Of these the apostle Paul wrote fourteen. They form a large part of the New Testament. Now, suppose we could take these epistles of St. Paul, chapter by chapter, and follow every verse in each chapter as it has gone round the world from age to age, and find out every case where good has been done to any soul, what a history we should have! No one could write such a history now. But I suppose we shall have such a history set before us when we get to heaven. Then, we shall understand better than we can do now how great the apostle Paul was, in the influence for good which he exerted. But, though none of us can be compared at all with this great man, yet, if we are trying, like him, to love and serve the blessed Saviour, we may all, even to the youngest, be exerting influence for good that will last forever. Here is an illustration of what I mean. We may call it:
“A Child’s Influence for Good.” Bessie was a sweet little girl who was trying to love the Saviour. The nursery in which she slept was on the first floor of the house adjoining the street. It was summer time when the incident here referred to took place. Her mother was sitting near the open window one evening, when Bessie knelt down by her side to say her evening prayer. She first repeated, after her mother, the words that she taught her to use in prayer. After this she was in the habit of offering up little prayers of her own for anything she wished to ask from her Father in heaven. She did so on this occasion; and these were the last words she had to offer: “God help everybody to love Jesus. Amen.” While Bessie was saying her prayers that evening her mother heard the steps of some one passing. He lingered a moment under the window and listened to the words of the dear child. It happened that this was a neighbor of theirs, an infidel, whose name was Jones. The closing words of Bessie’s prayer made a deep impression on his mind. After this he manifested the greatest interest in her, though he always said that what she prayed for never could take place; for he was certain that he, for one, never could be a Christian.
Not long after this Mr. Jones was taken sick. He had a long and severe spell of illness. As he was living in a boarding house, and had no family of his own, Bessie’s mother used to send the dear child in every day to inquire how he was and to take him little things that he might need. He would allow no one to speak to him on the subject of religion; but Bessie’s father and mother hoped that her gentle ways and simple loving words might do him good.
A week or two had passed away, and one night, as Bessie’s mother was putting her to bed—she said: “Mamma, Mr. Jones loves Jesus now.”