But now read the twenty-first verse of the fourteenth chapter of John: "He that hath My commandments and keepeth them, he it is that loveth Me; and he that loveth Me shall be loved of My Father and I will love him, and will manifest Myself unto him." And the twenty-third verse adds to it: "If a man love Me, he will keep My word: and My Father will love him, and We will come unto him and make Our abiding place with him." Notice: there is obedience; it is accepted as an evidence of love: there is a return love—a new, higher, reciprocal love: then there is a revealing of Himself; and, constant abiding. Now run your eye through the remaining part of that evening's conversation and you can quickly pick out these words: "teach," "bring to your remembrance," "guide," "bear witness of me," "tell you coming things," "tell you about me."
Does that not parallel remarkably the wilderness experience? Only it is all put on such a higher plane. There is a fullness, and richness, and tenderness, of personal intimacy here. The Presence in the wilderness was for the national life: here it is peculiarly for the personal life. There He dwelt actually in the heart of the nation. Here He dwells actually in one's own very person. And then, too, now He can do so much more in us because so much more has been done for us through the person of Jesus.
How to Find the Meaning.
May I say right here plainly: there seems to be even yet in some quarters a hazy idea about the Holy Spirit being a person. It is extremely common, even among people of excellent christian training, to find Him referred to, both in prayer and speech as it. Could anything be more disrespectful or insulting, if it were intentional instead of being thoughtless or, in ignorance, as I am sure it really is. Imagine my speaking of the pastor of this church in that way. "It is a good preacher. It is a helpful pastor." You smile, and he smiles. But if I said it repeatedly, and in sober earnest, you know how insulted he would be. I suppose that the use of the word "itself" for the Holy Spirit in the eighth chapter of Romans is largely responsible for this. The revisers have properly substituted the word "himself." That very usage so common has doubtless accustomed many persons to a vague idea of the personality of the Spirit. And yet apart from that, there is without doubt much mistiness, and uncertainty, in some minds, because of the difficulty of thinking of a person without a form. It seems impossible for our minds to grasp the idea of existence without bodily shape, yet of course we believe in a personal God. Probably another reason is that the Holy Spirit's work is not to speak of Himself but of Another—of Jesus. He is Jesus' representative, and is constantly absorbed in filling us with thoughts of His Chief. And when our minds are most deeply stirred with thoughts of Jesus then it is that in that very fact of being so stirred we have clearest evidence of the Holy Spirit's presence within us. His very faithfulness to His mission has led to Himself suffering depreciation at our hands, through our ignorance.
I am sure it must help us all decidedly in getting a clear-cut, sharply defined idea of His personality to notice the language Jesus uses in speaking of Him that night. For instance, notice that in our English version the personal pronouns "he," "whom," "him," "which" (used in the sense of who as is common with the British translators), occur twenty-four times. A study of the actual words used would prove helpful and interesting. One of them, used several times, is peculiarly emphatic, its meaning being equivalent to the expression "that person there."
And then notice the words used to describe what this person will do: "He shall teach," "bring to your remembrance," "bear witness of Me," "convict the world of" three distinct things, "shall guide," "shall hear," "shall speak," "shall declare," "shall glorify Me," "shall take of Mine and declare it unto you." Everyone of these ten different expressions imply intelligence and discrimination, and therefore of course personality. And then added to this is the name given to Him here of which so much has been said.
May we take just another look at that name—The Comforter—as we close our talk together? I wish with my whole heart, and I pray, that a vivid sense of the meaning of that name may be one result of this evening's meeting. I was traveling alone in Germany one hot July day on a train going down to the city of Worms. It was quite hot and I was very tired, and my head aching, I distinctly remember. The conductor came along and objected to my ticket. Before leaving this country, I thought I knew a little of German, enough to worry through on. My ideas on that subject changed a trifle over there, however. That day my tired ears refused to recognize any familiar sounds on the conductor's lips, and my tired tongue refused to utter anything satisfactory to him. And there I was, a complete stranger in a strange land too tired to think or have any mental resources, not knowing but I might be put off at the next station. In fact just tired enough for fine worrying. It looked blue for a few moments. But not for long. A young man by my side, a Jew, spoke to me in excellent English. Was any sound ever so welcome! He straightened the conductor out, and then we fell to talking together. He proved to be a very intelligent, agreeable companion. I found his home was in the city where I was going. So we got off there together, and he simply devoted himself to me for the day. He took me up to a good hotel, and while I was eating dinner, went and got his brother who had been in America, and who entertained me while I ate. Then he took me to his father's home, a large old mansion, overlooking the famous Luther monument where I rested a while. And then a quick run to a few interesting points, and finally when leaving time came, he insisted on accompanying me to the station, and making sure I had a good seat, and then bade me a gracious good-bye.
That day lingers in my memory as one of the green spots of that trip. It touched me to think that my Master graciously sent one of His own despised race to be my friend. Do you not think that that man, experienced where I was ignorant, and so sympathetic, was a living illustration to me of Jesus' name for the Holy Spirit—one called alongside to help?
One day recently, riding on a Lake Shore train in Ohio, I chanced to notice the conductor stopping to speak to a little girl sitting behind me. Then I noticed that she was alone and crying a little, quietly. She did not answer his questions, but he must have been a father, I thought, because he seemed to understand so well. Speaking to a kind-faced motherly looking woman in the next seat he had the little girl go back and sit beside her, next the window. They did not talk much, if any, I noticed. But the girl was snuggled up close, and I knew from her face that she felt the warm sympathy of that friendly presence, and that the terrible feeling of loneliness had gone. Is not that woman another illustration of that name Comforter? Her mere presence was all that was needed to clear the skies and change the atmosphere for the little lone and lonely traveler.
But Jesus Himself has a very striking way of making clear just what He meant, by coupling another word with that new name the first time He used it. He says, "I will send another Comforter." The comparison is with Himself. He is one comforter. The Holy Spirit another one. The only other time this word is used is by John in his first epistle, and is translated by our word advocate, and refers to Jesus. Jesus practically says: "You know what I have been to you these months past." And they would think through, the close intimacy of nearly two years. How He had spoken with unmistakable plainness when they were in the wrong, but also how loving with a strong love He had been, how patient, and gentle, and resourceful, and how He seemed to yearn over them that they might grow into His ideal for them. "Now," He says, "I am going away, but I will send you another one who will be to you all that I have been—and more." And more! That comparative more, either spoken or implied, runs all through this last long confidential talk. "More, much more, because I go unto the Father." Jesus crucified, risen, glorified can do much more by far in us by His other self, the Holy Spirit, than He could in person on the earth those years. And the wondrous meaning of that "another comforter" to you and me, my friends, to-night is simply this: it is the same as though the Lord Jesus had actually come back again and you had Him all to yourself—and more.