According to our version “we are saved by hope,” but that is scarcely in accordance with other parts of Holy Scripture. Everywhere in the word of God we are told that we are saved by faith. See the first verse of the fifth chapter: “Therefore being justified by faith.” Faith is the saving grace, and not hope-save only as hope is under some aspects tantamount to faith. Faith is the saving grace, and the original should be rendered-and one wonders that it is not so in the Revised Version-“We were saved in hope.” It would prevent misapprehension if the passage were so rendered; for as that eminent critic, Bengel, well says, “the words do not describe the means, but the manner of salvation: we are so saved that there may even yet remain something for which we may hope, both of salvation and glory.” Believers receive the salvation of their souls as the end of their faith, and it is of faith that it might be of grace. They are saved by faith and in hope.

At this present moment believers are saved, and in a certain sense completely saved. They are entirely saved from the guilt of sin. The Lord Jesus took their sin and bore it in his own body on the tree, and offered an acceptable atonement, by which the iniquity of all his people is once and for ever put away. By faith we are at once saved from the defilement of evil, and have free access to God our Father. By faith we are saved from the reigning power of sin in our members. As saith the Scripture, “Sin shall not have dominion over you, for ye are not under the law, but under grace.” The crown is removed from the head of sin, and the arm of its strength is broken in the heart of every Christian by the power of faith. Sin strives to get the mastery, but it cannot win the day, for he that is born of God doth not commit sin with delight, or as his daily habit, but he keepeth himself so that that evil one toucheth him not. As to the penalty of sin, that has been borne by our great Substitute, and by faith we have accepted his sacrifice, and “he that believeth in him is not condemned.” We rejoice, therefore, at this moment in salvation already obtained and enjoyed by faith which is in Christ Jesus. Yet we are conscious that there is something more than this to be had. There is salvation in a larger sense, which as yet we see not; for at the present moment we find ourselves in this tabernacle, groaning because we are burdened. All around us the creation is evidently in travail; there are signs of birth-pangs in a certain unrest, upheaval, and anguish of the creation. Things are not as God originally made them. Thorns are in earth’s furrows, a blight has fallen on her flowers, a mildew on her grain. The heavens weep and saturate our harvests, earth’s bowels move and shake our cities. Frequent calamities and disasters are portents of a great future which shall be born of this travailing present. Nowhere on earth can a perfect paradise be found. Our best things are expectant of something better. The whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain with us. Even we that have received the firstfruits of the Spirit, and so are blessed and saved, nevertheless groan within ourselves, waiting for a further something, a glory not seen as yet. We have not yet attained, but are pressing on. Our first soul-thirst as sinners has been quenched; but there are within us still greater desires, by which we hunger and thirst after righteousness with longings insatiable. Before we ate of the bread of heaven we hungered for mere husks; but now our newborn nature has brought us a new appetite, which the whole world could not satisfy.

What is the cause of this hungering? We are under no difficulty whatever in answering the question. Our griefs and longings, and unsatisfied desires are principally gathered up in two things. First, we long to be totally free from sin in every form. The evil which is in the world is our burden; we are vexed with the evil conversation of the ungodly, and are grieved by their temptations and persecutions. The fact that the world lieth in the wicked one, and that men reject Christ and perish in unbelief is a source of much affliction to our hearts. We have said with David, “Woe is me, that I sojourn in Mesech, that I dwell in the tents of Kedar!” We could wish for a lodge in a wilderness, far off from the haunts of men, that we might in peace commune with God, and hear no more of blasphemy, murmuring, wantonness, and crime. This is not our rest, for it is polluted, and so far we look for a great deliverance when we shall be taken out of this world to dwell in perfect company. Yet even the presence of the ungodly were a small matter if we could be completely delivered from sin within ourselves. That is among the things not seen at yet. If a man were free from all tendency to sin he would no longer be liable to temptation, or under necessity to watch against it. That which cannot possibly be burned or blackened has no need to dread the fire. We feel that we must shun temptation, because we are conscious that there is material within us which may soon take fire. “The Prince of this world cometh,” said our Lord, “and hath nothing in me”; but when he comes to us he finds not only something, but much congenial to his purpose. Our heart all too readily echoes to the voice of Satan. When he sows the tares the furrows of the old nature soon produce a harvest. Evil doth remain even in the regenerate, and it infects all the powers of the mind. Oh that we could get rid of the memory of sin! What a torment it is to us to remember snatches of loose songs, and words of ill savour. Oh, that we were rid of the imagination of sin! Do we mourn enough over sins of thought and fancy? A man may sin, and sin horribly, in thought, and yet may not have sinned in act. Many a man hath committed fornication, adultery, theft, and even murder in his imagination, by finding pleasure in the thought thereof, and yet he may never have fallen into any one of the overt acts. Oh that our imagination, and all our inward parts, were purged of the corrupt matter which is in them, and which fermenteth towards foulness. There is in us that which makes us cry out from day to day, “O wretched man that I am; who shall deliver me?” If any man here says, “I feel no such emotions,” I pray God that he may soon do so. Those know very little of true spiritual perfection who are content with themselves. A perfect child grows, and so does a perfect child of God. The nearer we come to perfect cleanness of heart the more shall we mourn over the tiniest spot of sin, and the more shall we see that to be sin which once we excused. He who is most like Christ is most conscious of imperfection, and most weary that the least iniquity should hang about him. When a man saith, “I have reached the goal,” I fear he has not begun to run. As for me, I endure many growing pains, and feel far less pleased with myself than I used to be. I have a firm hope of something better, but were it not for hope I should account myself truly unhappy to be so conscious of need and so racked with desires. This is one great source of our groaning. We are saved, but we are not completely delivered from tendencies to sin, neither have we reached the fulness of holiness. “There is yet very much land to be possessed.”

Another cause of this winter of our discontent is our body. Paul calls it a “vile body,” and so indeed it is when compared with what it shall be when fashioned in the image of Christ Jesus. It is not vile in itself viewed as the creature of God, for it is fearfully and wonderfully made; and there is something very noble about the body of a man, made to walk erect, and to look upward and gaze toward heaven. A body so marvellously prepared to be the tenement of the mind, and to obey the soul’s behests, is not to be despised. A body which can be the temple of the Holy Ghost is no mean structure, therefore let us not despise it. It is a thing for which to be eternally grateful, that we have been made men if we have been also made new men in Christ Jesus. The body came under the power of death through the Fall, and it remains so; and, remaining so, its lot is to die sooner or later, unless the Lord should suddenly appear, and even then it must be changed; for flesh and blood, as they are, cannot inherit the kingdom of God. And so, poor body, thou art not well matched with the new-born soul?, since thou hast not been born again. Thou art a somewhat dull and dreary dwelling for a heaven-born spirit! What with aches and pains, weariness and infirmity, thy need of sleep, and food and clothing, thy liability to cold, heat, accident, decay, as well as to excessive labour and exhausting toil, thou, art a sorry servant of the sanctified soul. Thou dost drag down and hamper a spirit which else might soar aloft. How often doth a penury of health repress the noble flame of high resolve and holy aspiration! How often do pain and weakness freeze the genial current of the soul! When shall we be emancipated from the shackles of this natural body and put on the wedding dress of the spiritual body? What with the sin dwelling in our breast, and this vesture of mortal clay, we are glad that now is our salvation nearer than when we believed, and we long to enter into the full enjoyment of it.

Here my text gives us good cheer. From the sources of our present groaning there is a full deliverance, a salvation so wide that it covers the whole area of our wants, yea, of our desires. A salvation awaits us whose sweep is eternity and immensity. All our capacious powers can wish are compassed within it, and of this the text says, “We were saved in hope.” That grandest, widest salvation, we have seized by hope. Glory be to God for this.

This, then, is the subject of our present meditation: the hope which embraces the grander salvation for which we long.

Let us begin by recapitulating under the first head, the object of this hope. I have already gone over the principal points. Our hope, first of all, embraces our own absolute perfection. We have set our faces towards holiness, and by God’s grace we will never rest till we attain it. Every sin that is in us is doomed, not only to be conquered, but to be slain. The grace of God does not help us to conceal our infirmities, but to destroy them. We deal with sin as Joshua did with the five kings when they went into the cave at Makkedah. While he was busy in the battle, he said, “Roll great stones upon the mouth of the cave.” Our sins for awhile are shut up by restraining grace, as in a cave, and great stones are rolled at the cave’s mouth; for they would escape if they could, and once more snatch at the reins: but in the power of the Holy Spirit we mean to deal with them more effectually by-and-by. “Bring out those five kings unto me,” said Joshua, and “he smote them, and slew them, and hanged them.” By God’s grace we will never be satisfied till all our natural inclinations to sin shall be utterly destroyed, execrated and abhorred. We expect a day when there will not remain in us a taint of sin past, or an inclination for sin future. We shall still be possessed of will and freedom of choice, but we shall choose only good. Saints in heaven are not passive beings, driven along the path of obedience by a power which they cannot resist, but as intelligent agents they freely elect to be holiness unto the Lord. We shall enjoy for ever the glorious liberty of the children of God, which lies in the constant voluntary choice of that which should be chosen, and a consequent unbroken happiness. Ignorance also shall be gone, for we shall all be taught of the Lord, and we shall know, even as we are known. Perfect in service and clean delivered from all self-will and carnal desire, we shall be near our God and like him. As Watts has it,-

“Sin, my worst enemy before,

Shall vex my eyes and ears no more;

My inward toes shall all be slain,

Nor Satan break my peace again.”

What a heaven this will be! I think, if I could be sure of getting free from every liability to sin, I would not have a choice as to where I should live, whether on earth or in heaven, at the bottom of the sea with Jonah, or in the low dungeon with Jeremiah. Purity is peace: holiness is happiness. He who is holy as God is holy will in consequence be happy as God is happy. This is one main object of our hope.

The other object of our desire is the redemption of the body. Let us read the verses in which Paul teaches us that truth: “And if Christ be in you, the body is dead because of sin; but the Spirit is life because of righteousness. But if the Spirit of him that raised up Jesus from the dead dwell in you, he that raised up Christ from the dead shall also quicken your mortal bodies by his Spirit that dwelleth in yon.” When we die we shall leave our body behind us for awhile: we shall not, therefore, as to our entire manhood, be perfect in heaven till the resurrection: we shall be morally perfect, but as a complete man is made up of body as well as soul, we shall not be physically perfect, while one part of our person shall remain in the tomb. When the resurrection trumpet shall sound, this body will rise, but it will rise redeemed; and as our soul regenerated is very different from our soul under the bondage of sin, so the body when it is risen will be widely different from the body as it now is. The infirmities caused by sickness and age will be unknown among the glorified, for they are as the angels of God. None shall enter into glory halt or maimed, or decrepit or malformed. You will have no blind eye there, my sister; no deaf ear there, my brother; there shall be no quivering of paralysis or wasting of consumption. There we shall possess everlasting youth; the body which is sown in weakness shall be raised in power, and shall at once fly upon the crrands of its Lord. Paul says, “It is sown a natural (or soulish) body,” fit for the soul; “it is raised a spiritual body,” fit for the spirit, the highest nature of man. I suppose we shall inhabit such a body as cherubs wear when they fly upon the wings of the wind; or such as may be fit for a seraph when like a flame of fire he flashes at Jehovah’s bidding. Whatever it is, poor frame of mine, thou shalt be very much changed from what thou art now. Thou art the shrivelled bulb, which shall be put into the earth, but thou shalt arise a glorious flower, a golden cup to hold the sunlight of Jehovah’s face. The greatness of thy glory thou knowest not as yet, except that thou shalt be fashioned like the glorious body of the Lord Jesus. This is the second object of our hope, a glorified body to consort with our purified spirit.

Viewed in another light, the object of our hope is this-that we shall enter upon our inheritance. Paul saith, “If children, then heirs; heirs of God; joint heirs with Christ.” Whether we have little or much in this life our estate is nothing when compared with that which we have in reversion, secured to us against the day when we shall come of age. The fulness of God is the heritage of the saints: all that can make a man blessed, and noble, and complete is laid up in store for us. Measure, if you can, the inheritance of the Christ, who is heir of all things! What must be the portion of the well-beloved Son of the Highest? Whatever that may be, it is ours; for we are joint heirs with Christ. We shall be with him and behold his glory; we shall wear his image, we shall sit upon his throne. I cannot tell you more, for my words are poverty-stricken. I wish we all meditated upon what the Scripture reveals upon this subject till we knew all that can be known. Our hope looks for many things, yea for all things. Rivers of pleasure, of pleasures for evermore are flowing for us at God’s right hand.

Paul speaks of “the glory which shall be revealed in us,” and tells us in another place that it is “a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.” What a word is that,-Glory! Glory is to be ours. Even ours, poor sinners as we are. Grace is sweet, but what must glory be? And it is to be revealed in us, and about us, and over us, and through us to all eternity.

Paul also speaks of “the glorious liberty of the children of God.” O charming word, liberty! We love it even as we hear it rung from the silver bugles of those who fight with tyrants; but what will it be when the trumpets of heaven shall proclaim eternal jubilee to every spiritual bondslave! Liberty? the liberty of the children of God! Liberty to enter into the holiest, to dwell in God’s presence, and behold his face for ever and ever.

The apostle speaks also of “the manifestation of the sons of God.” Here we are hidden away in Christ as gems in a casket; by-and-by we are to be revealed as jewels in a crown. As Christ had his time of manifestation to the Gentiles after he had for awhile been hidden, so we who are now unknown are to have a manifestation before men and angels. “Then shall the righteous shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father.” What our manifestation shall be, O my brothers and sisters, I cannot tell you; eye hath not seen it, nor ear heard it, neither hath it entered into the heart of man; and though God hath revealed it unto us by his Spirit, yet how small a part of that revelation have our spirits been able to receive. I suppose that only he who has seen the home of the perfect can tell us what it is like, and I conceive that even he could not do so, for language could not set it forth. When Paul was in Paradise he heard words, but he does not tell us what they were, for he says they were not lawful for a man to utter: they were too divine for mortal tongue. Not yet, not yet, but by-and-by the object of our hopes shall be clear to us. Do not think the less of it because we say by-and-by, for the interval of time is a trifling matter. It will soon be gone. What are a few months or years? What if a few hundred years should intervene before the resurrection? They will soon have swept by us like the wing of a bird, and then! Oh, then! The invisible shall be seen, the unutterable shall be heard, the eternal shall be ours for ever and ever. This is our hope.

Let us now muse upon the nature of this hope. We are saved in hope. What kind of hope is it in which we are saved?

First, our hope consists of three things-belief, desire, expectancy.

Our hope of being clean delivered from sin as to our soul, and rescued from all infirmity as to our body, arises out of a solemn assurance that it shall be so. The revelation of him who hath brought life and immortality to light bears witness to us that we also shall obtain glory and immortality. We shall be raised in the image of Christ, and shall partake in his glory. This is our belief because Christ is risen and glorified, and we are one with him. This also we desire, O how ardently! We so desire it that we at times wish to die that we may enter into it. At all times, but especially when we get a glimpse of Christ, our soul pines to be with him. This desire is accompanied with confident expectation. We as much expect to see the glory of Christ, and to share it, as we expect to see to-morrow morning: nay, perhaps we shall not see to-morrow’s sun, but we shall certainly see the King in his beauty in the land that is very far off. We believe it, we desire it, and we expect it. That is the nature of our hope. It is not an indefinite, hazy, groundless wish that things may turn out all right, such as those have who say, “I hope it will go well with me,” though they live carelessly, and seek not after God; but it is a hope made up of right knowledge, firm belief, spiritual desire, and warranted expectancy.

This hope is grounded upon the word of God. God has promised us this; therefore do we believe it, desire it, and expect it. He has said, “He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved,” and the widest sense that we can give to that word “saved” must be God’s sense of it, since his thoughts are always above our thoughts. We expect God to do as he has said to the fullest extent of his promise, for he will never run back from his word, nor fail in his engagement. We have committed our souls to the keeping of the Saviour, who has declared that he will save his people from their sins. We are trusting in our Redeemer, and our belief is that our Redeemer liveth, and that when he shall stand in the latter day upon the earth, though after our skin worms destroy this body, yet in our flesh we shall see God. Many and precious are the words of God to the same effect, and we lay hold upon them, being certain that what he has promised he is able also to perform. We shall die without a doubt of rising again, even as we have already committed to the dust many of our beloved ones in sure and certain hope of their resurrection to eternal life. As the farmer drops his grain into the ground, and does not doubt to see it rise again, so do we bury the bodies of the saints, and so shall we resign our own bodies, in the certain expectation that they shall as surely live again as they have lived at all. This is a hope worth having, for it is grounded on, the word of God, the faithfulness of God, and his power to carry out his own promise, and therefore it is a hope most sure and steadfast, which maketh no man ashamed who hath it.

This hope is wrought in us by the Spirit of God. We should never have known this hope if the Holy Ghost had not kindled it in our bosoms. Ungodly men have no such hope, and never will have. It is only when men are renewed that this hope enters into them, the Holy Ghost dwelling in them. And herein do I exult with joy unspeakable, for if my hope of perfection and immortality has been wrought in me by God, then it must be fulfilled, for the Lord never could inspire a hope which should put his people to shame. The true God never gave men a false hope. That cannot be. The God of hope who has taught thee, my brother, to expect salvation from sin and all its effects, will do unto thee according to the expectation which he has himself excited; therefore be thou very confident, and patiently wait the joyful day of the Lord’s appearing.

This hope operates in us in a holy manner, as every gracious and holy thing that comes from God must do. It purifies us, as saith John,. “He that hath this hope in him purifieth himself, even as God is pure.” We are so certain of this inheritance that we prepare for it by putting off all things contrary to it, and putting on all things which suit it. We endeavour to live as in the prospect of glory. How often has it occurred to me, and I doubt not to you, my brothers, to say of such and such a thing, “How will this look in the day of judgment?” And we have done this act of generosity or that act of consecration, not because we cared a whit what men would think of it, but because we looked at it in the light of the coming glory. To us the grandest stimulus is that there is laid up for us a crown of life that fadeth not away.

This blessed hope makes us feel that it is a shame for us to sin, a shame that princes of the blood imperial of the skies should dabble in the mire like children of the gutter. We would fain live as those who are destined to dwell in the blaze of the light ineffable. We cannot walk in darkness, for we are to dwell in a splendour before which the sun grows pale; in the very Godhead itself are we to baptize ourselves in fellowship. Shall we, therefore, be the slaves of Satan, or the serfs of sin? God forbid! This blessed hope draws us towards God, and lifts us out of the pit of sin.

Having described the object and the nature of this blessed hope, I come more closely still to the text to observe the anticipatory power of this hope, for the apostle says in our text, “We were saved in hope”; that is to say, we did get the greater salvation, about which we are now speaking, when we were taught to know this hope. We obtained the first part of salvation, the forgiveness of sin, and justification of our persons, by faith, and we have fellowship with God, and access into countless blessings by faith: some of us are as conscious of this as that we eat and drink. But, beside all this, we have in hope the fuller range of salvation, total deliverance of the soul from sin, and complete redemption of the body from pain and death. We have this salvation in hope; and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. How is this?

Why, first, hope saw it all secured by the promise of grace. As soon as ever we believed in Christ our faith secured forgiveness, and we cried, “I am not yet free from tendencies to sin, but inasmuch as I have believed in Christ unto salvation I shall surely be perfected, for Christ could not have come to give me a partial and imperfect salvation: he will perfect that which concerneth me.” Thus hope saw within the promise of salvation much that as yet was not actually experienced, knowing that the whole of the promise is of equal certainty, hope expected the future mercy as surely as faith enjoyed the present blessing.

Moreover, hope saw the full harvest in the firstfruits. When sin was subdued by grace, hope expected to see it utterly exterminated. When the Holy Spirit came to dwell in the body, hope concluded that the body would be delivered as surely as the soul. The moment that faith introduced hope into the heart she sang, “I have the complete salvation-not in actual enjoyment, but in sure reversion in Christ Jesus.” Hope waved the first sheaf, and so took possession of the harvest. Ask any farmer who holds up a little handful of ripe wheat-ears whether he has ripe wheat, and he tells you that it is even so. “But you have not reaped it yet.” “No, not yet, but it is mine, and in due season I shall reap it: these full ears are a full assurance of the existence of the wheat, and of the fact that it is ripening.” So when God gave to you and me love to Jesus and deliverance from the dominion of evil, these firstfruits betokened a perfect salvation yet to be revealed in us. Our first joy was the tuning of our harps for everlasting song. Our first peace was the morning light of a never-ending day. When first we saw Christ, and worshipped him, our adoration was the first bowing before the throne of God and of the Lamb. So that in hope we were saved: it brought us the principle of perfection, the pledge of immortality, the commencement of glorification.

Moreover, hope is so sure about this coming favour that she reckons it as obtained. You get an advice from a merchant with whom you have traded beyond sea: he says, “I have procured the goods you have ordered, and will send them by the next vessel; which will probably arrive at such a time.” Another trader calls in and asks you whether you wish to buy such goods; and you reply, “No, I have them.” Have you spoken the truth? Certainly; for though you have them not in your warehouse, they are invoiced to you; you know they are on the way, and you are so accustomed to trust your foreign correspondent, that you regard the goods as yours. The deed is done that makes them yours. So it is with heaven, with perfection, with immortality: the deed is done which makes these the heritage of saints. I have advices from One whom I cannot doubt, even my Lord, that he has gone to heaven to prepare a place for me, and that he will come again and receive me to himself. So sure is hope of this fact, that she reckons it, and makes comparisons and draws practical conclusions. A good old proverb tells us, “Never reckon your chickens before they are hatched,” but here is a case in which you may reckon as accurately while the bird is in the egg as when it is fledged, for the apostle says, “I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.” He is so sure of it that he keeps a debtor and creditor account about it: he puts down the sufferings of this present time in his expenditure and the glory which shall be revealed among his assets, and he declares that the one is so vast, and the other so utterly insignificant as not to be worth notice.

Nay, he is not only so sure as to reckon upon it, but to groan after it. We that are in this body do groan for the full adoption. Our groanings do not arise from doubt, but from eagerness: we are urged by our confident expectancy to vehemence of desire. It is idle to cry for that which you will never have. The child is foolish which cries for the moon. But to groan for what I am sure to have is proper and fit, and shows the strength of my faith.

The apostle is so sure of it that he even triumphs in it. He says that we are more than conquerors through him that loved us-that is to say, although we are not perfect yet, and although our body is not delivered from pain, yet we are so sure of perfection and complete deliverance that we joyfully endure all things, triumphing over every difficulty. Friend, you will not be poor many weeks longer: you shall dwell where the streets are paved with gold. Your head will not ache many months longer, for it shall be surrounded with a coronet of glory and of bliss. Never mind shame, they will not be able to laugh at you long: you shall be at the right hand of God, even the Father, and the glory of Christ shall clothe you, world without end. Oh, it is an infinite blessing to have such a hope, and to be so sure of it as to anticipate its joys before they actually come to us.” We were saved in hope.

Let us for a moment observe the proper sphere of hope. The sphere of hope is “things not seen.” Hope that is seen is not hope, for what a man seeth why doth he yet hope for? Therefore, brethren, a Christian’s real possession is not what he sees. Suppose God prospers him in this world and he has riches: let him be grateful, but let him confess that these are not his treasure. One hour with the Lord Jesus Christ will bring more satisfaction to the believer than the largest measure of wealth. Although he may have been prospered in this world, the saint will ridicule the idea of making the world his portion. A thousand worlds with all the joy which they could yield are as nothing compared with our appointed inheritance. Our hope does not deal with trifles; it leaves the mice of the barn to the owls, and soars on eagle wings where nobler joys await her.

“Beyond, beyond this lower sky,

Up where eternal ages roll;

Where solid pleasures never die,

And fruits immortal feast the soul.”

But it is clear that we do not at present enjoy these glorious things for which we hope. The worldling cries, “Where is your hope?” and we confess that we do not see the objects of our hope. For instance, we could not claim to be already perfect, neither do we expect to do so while we are in this body, but we believe that we shall be perfected in the image of Christ at the time appointed of the Father. By no means is our body free from infirmity at this moment, aches and pains and weariness remind us that the body is under death because of sin; yet our firm conviction is that we shall bear the image of the heavenly even as we now bear the image of the earthly. These are subjects of hope, and therefore outside of present experience. Let us not be cast down because it is so: we must have something reserved for hope to feed on. We cannot have all of heaven and yet remain on earth. Dearly beloved, if you feel tormented by indwelling sin, and your holiness seems battered and blotted, yet be fully persuaded that he who has promised is able to perform.

Away, then, with judging by what you do, or see, or feel, or are. Rise into the sphere of the things which shall be. Can you not do that? When there is no joy in the present, there is an infinite joy in the future. Do not say, “Oh, but it is a long way off.” It is not so. Many among you are sixty, seventy, or even eighty years of age; your time for the sight of Christ in your disembodied state cannot be far away, for the thread of life is snapping. Some of us are in middle age, but as we have already reached the average of life, we are bound to reckon that our lease is far advanced; and as so many are snatched away in their prime, we may at any moment be caught up to the land for which we hope. We ought not to fret about what we shall do ten years hence, for it is very likely that we shall by that time have entered into the promised rest, and shall be serving the Lord day and night in his temple, and beholding his face with joy unspeakable. Even suppose that any of us should be doomed to exile from heaven for another fifty years, the time of our sojourn will soon fly away. Let us labour to our utmost for the glory of God while we are here, for the moments flash away. Do you not recollect this time last year when autumn’s ripeness was all around? It seems but the other day. You boys and girls think it a long year, but the old folks are of another opinion. We have no long years now that we are growing grey. For me time travels so fast that its axles are hot with speed. Fear cries-Oh for a little breathing space! But hope answers,-No, let the years fly, we shall be home the sooner. There is but a step between us and heaven; do not let us worry ourselves about things below. We are like people in an express train who see a disagreeable sight in the fields, but it is gone before they have time to think of it. If there should be some discomfort in the carriage, if they have been put into a third-class compartment when they had a first-class ticket they do not trouble if it is a short journey. “See,” says one, “we have just passed the last station, and shall be in the terminus directly: never mind.” Let us project ourselves into the future. We shall not need much dynamite of imagination to send us upward: we can leap that little distance by hope, and seat ourselves among the thrones above. Resolve, my brethren, that, at least for to-day, you will not tarry in this cloudy, earth-bound time, but will mount unto the bright, cloudless eternity. O to leave these turbid streams and bathe in the river of hope, whose crystal floods flow from the pure fountain of divine joy.

Our time has fled, and we must close by merely glancing at the effect of this hope, which is thus described: “Then do we with patience wait for it.” We wait, and must wait, but not as criminals for execution; our tarrying is rather that of the bride for the wedding. We wait with patience, constancy, desire, and submission. The joy is sure to come, we have no doubt about it: therefore we do not complain and murmur, as though God had missed his appointment, and put us to needless delay. No, the time which God has settled is the best, and we are content with it. We would neither desire to tarry here nor to depart at any time but the Lord’s. Dear Rowland Hill is said to have searched out an aged friend who was dying, that he might send a message up to heaven, to John Berridge and other beloved Johns who had gone before him, and he playfully added a word of hope that the Master had not forgotten old Rowland, and would let him come home in due time; yet he never dreamed that he could be passed over. Among the last expressions of the famous John Donne was this-“I were miserable if I might not die.” This would be a horrible world, indeed, if we were doomed to live in it for ever. Fancy such a dreadful certainty before us. I saw a gentleman some time ago who told me that he would never die, but should at certain intervals cast off the effects of age and start on a new term of life. He kindly came to tell me how I might enjoy the same favour; but as I am not ambitious of earthly immortality, such an offer did not tempt me. He told me I could renew my youth, and become young again for the space of hundreds of years, but I refused his conditions, and declined the boon at any price. I have no desire for anything of the sort; my most comfortable prospect about this life is that it will melt away into life eternal. It seems to me that the most joyous thing about the most joyous life is that it leads upward to another and a better state. I am not unhappy or discontented, but since I have a good hope of perfection for my soul and body, and a sure prospect of face-to-face fellowship with God, how can I speak well of anything which divides me from my joy? Yes, it will come, surely come; therefore let us patiently wait for it. When Satan would buffet us, when temptation would overcome us, when affliction would wear us down, when doubts would torment us, let us bear the temporary trial with constancy, for we shall soon be out of range of gunshot. The consummation shall come, and must come, and when it cometh we shall remember no more our travail for joy that our heaven is born to us and we to it.

Now, then, ye that do not believe in God, tell us what your hope is. Publish it in the world, and let all men estimate it. What is your hope? To live long? Yes, and what then? To bring up a family? Yes, and what then? To see them comfortably settled in life? Yes, and what then? To be a grandfather to a numerous progeny? Yes, and what then? To reach extreme old age in peaceful retirement? Yes, and what then? The curtain falls. Let me lift it. The cemetery. The throne of God. Sentence on your soul. The trumpet of resurrection. Final doom. Body and soul in hell for ever. You have no better prospect. Pray look out of the window, and see what is to be seen. The Lord have mercy upon you, and give you a better hope. As for you believers in Christ, I charge you begin to sing to-day the sonnets of the hereafter. Charm your pilgrim life with the minstrelsy of hope.

Portion of Scripture read before Sermon-Rom. 8:1-25.

Hymns from “Our Own Hymn Book”-874, 848, 873.

LOVE’S LABOURS

A Sermon

Delivered on Lord’s-day Morning, September 4th, 1881, by

C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington.

“Charity beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.”-1 Corinthians 13:7.

The grace of charity, or love, of which so much is most admirably spoken in this chapter, is absolutely essential to true godliness. So essential is it that, if we have everything beside, but have not charity, it profiteth us nothing. The absence of charity is absolutely fatal to vital godliness; so saith the Holy Ghost in this chapter. When, then, you read the apostle’s high encomiums of charity, do not say, “This is a fancy virtue to which certain special saints have attained, and we are bound to admire them for it, but we need not imitate them.” Far from it. This charity is the common, everyday livery of the people of God. It is not the prerogative of a few; it must be the possession of all. Do not, therefore, however lofty the model may be, look up to it as though you could not reach it: you must reach it. It is put before you not only as a thing greatly desirable, but as absolutely needful; for if you excelled in every spiritual gift, yet if you had not this all the rest would profit you nothing whatever. One would think that such excellent gifts might benefit us a little, but no, the apostle sums them all up, and saith of the whole, “it profiteth me nothing.” I pray that this may be understood of us at the very beginning, lest we should manage to slip away from the truth taught us by the Holy Ghost in this place, and should excuse ourselves from being loving by the notion that we are so inconsiderable that such high virtue cannot be required of us, or so feeble that we cannot be expected to attain to it. You must attain it, or you cannot enter into eternal life, for if any man have not the Spirit of Christ he is none of his, and the Spirit of Christ is sure to beget the charity of our text, which “beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.”

What does this teach us at the outset, but that a salvation which leads to this must be of God, and must be wrought in us by his power? Such a comely grace can never grow out of our fallen nature. Shall such a clean thing as this be brought out of an unclean? This glorious salvation unto pure love must be grasped by faith, and wrought in us by the operation of the Spirit of God. If we consider salvation to be a little thing, we bring it, as it were, within the sphere of human possibility, but if we set it forth in its true proportions as involving the possession of a pure, loving, elevated state of heart, then we perceive that it is a divine wonder. When we estimate the renewed nature aright we cry, “This is the finger of God,” and right gladly do we then subscribe to Jonah’s creed, “Salvation is of the Lord.” If charity be in any man and abound, God must have the glory of it; for assuredly it was never attained by mere natural effort, but must have been bestowed by that same hand which made the heavens. So then, brethren, I shall hope when I conclude to leave upon your minds the impression of your need of the grace of God for the attainment of love. I would not discourage you, but I would have you feel how great a labour lies before you, and how impossible it will be unless you are girt with a strength beyond your own. This shall be your solace that if it cannot be the outcome of your own effort, yet “the fruit of the Spirit is love,” and the Spirit is ready and willing to bear fruit in us also.

Notice then, first, the multitude of love’s difficulties; it has to bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, and endure all things: secondly, observe the triumph of love’s labour; it does all these four things, it “beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things”: and then, thirdly, this will bring us back to the point we have started from, the sources of love’s energy, and how it is she is able thus to win her fourfold victory over countless difficulties.

Consider well the multitude of love’s difficulties. When the grace of God comes into a man he is born at once to love. He that loveth is born of God, and he that is born of God loveth. He loveth him that begat, even God, and he loveth him that is begotten of him, even all the saved ones. He commences to obey the great command to love his neighbour as himself. His motto is no longer that of an earthly kingdom, Dieu et mon droit-God and my right; but he bears another word on his escutcheon, Dieu et mon frère-God and my brother.

No sooner is love born than she finds herself at war. Everything is against her, for the world is full of envy, hate, and ill-will. I would warn the most loving-hearted that they have entered upon a war for peace, a strife for love: they are born to hate hatred, and to contend against contention. As the lily among thorns, so is love among the sons of men. As the hind among the dogs, so is charity among the selfish multitude.

Evidently the difficulties of love are many, for the apostle speaks of them as “all things,” and as if this were not enough he repeats the words, and sets forth the opposing armies as four times “all things.” I do not know whether you can calculate this mighty host. “All things” would seem to comprehend as much as can be, but here in the text you have this amount multiplied by four. For, my brother, you will have to contend with all that is within yourself. Nothing in your original nature will help you. God has put within you a new life, but the old life seeks to smother it. You will find it a severe struggle to master yourself, and if you succeed therein you will be a conqueror indeed. Besides that you will have to contend with “all things” in the persons whom you are called upon to love. You must have fervent charity towards the saints, but you will find very much about the best of them which will try your patience; for, like yourself, they are imperfect, and they will not always turn their best side towards you, but sometimes sadly exhibit their infirmities. Be prepared, therefore, to contend with “all things” in them. As for the ungodly whom you are to love to Christ, you will find everything in them that will oppose the drawings of your love, for they, like yourself, by nature are born in sin, and they are rooted in their iniquities. When you have mastered that kind of “all things” you will have to contend with “all things” in the world, for the world lieth in the wicked one, and all its forces run towards self, and contention, and hate. Every man’s hand is against his fellow, and few there be who honour the gentle laws of love; they know not that divine charity which “seeketh not her own.” The seed of the serpent is at enmity with all that is kind, and tender, and self-sacrificing, for these are the marks of the woman’s seed. Marvel not, my brethren, if the world hate you. And then remember that “all things” in hell are against you. What a seething mass of rebellious life, all venomous with hate, is seen in the regions of darkness. The prince of the power of the air leads the van, and the host of fallen spirits eagerly follow him, like bloodhounds behind their leader. All these evil spirits will endeavour to create dissension, and enmity, and malice, and oppression among men, and the soldier of love must wrestle against all these. See, O my brother, what a battle is yours! Speak of crusades against the Paynim, what a crusade is this against hate and evil. Yet we shrink not from the fray.

Happily, though love has many difficulties, it overcomes them all, and overcomes them four times. There is such vitality in evil that it leaps up from the field whereon it seemed to be slain, and rages with all its former fury. First, we overcome evil by patience, which “beareth all things.” Let the injury be inflicted, we will forgive it, and not be provoked: even seventy times seven will we bear in silence. If this suffice not, by God’s grace we will overcome by faith: we trust in Jesus Christ, we rely upon our principles, we look for divine succour, and so we “believe all things.” We overcome a third time by hope: we rest in expectation that gentleness will win, and that long-suffering will wear out malice, for we look for the ultimate victory of everything that is true and gracious, and so we “hope all things.” We finish the battle by perseverance: we abide faithful to our resolve to love, we will not be irritated into unkindness, we will not be perverted from generous, all-forgiving affection, and so we win the battle by steadfast non-resistance. We have set our helm towards the port of love, and towards it we will steer, come what may. Baffled often, love “endureth all things.”

Yes, brethren, and love conquers on all four sides. Love does, as it were, make a hollow square, and she sets the face of her warriors towards all quarters of the compass. Does God seem himself to smite love with afflictions? She “beareth all things.” Do her fellow Christians misrepresent her, and treat her ill? She believes everything that is good about them, and nothing that is injurious. Do the wicked rise against her? When she tries to convert them, do they return evil for good? She turns her hopefulness to the front in that direction, and hopes that yet the Spirit of God will bring them to a better mind. And does it happen that all her spiritual foes attack her with temptations and desperate insinuations? She lifteth up the banner of patience against them, and by the power of God’s grace she putteth the infernal enemy to the rout, for she “endureth all things.” What a brave mode of battle is this! Is not love a man of war? Is it not invincible? Hear love’s heroic cry as she shouts her defiance,-

“Come one, come all, this rock shall fly,

From its firm base as soon as I.”

If once taught in the school of Christ to turn love to every point of the compass, and so to meet every assault against our heart, we have learned the secret of victory.

It seems to me that I might read my text as if it said that love conquers in all stages of her life. She begins in conversion, and straightway those that mark her birth are angry, and the powers of evil are at once aroused to seek her destruction. Then she “beareth all things.” Let them mock, love never renders railing for railing: Isaac is not to be provoked by Ishmael’s jeers.

She gathers strength and begins to tell out to others what she knows of her Lord and his salvation. She “believeth all things,” and so she confesses her faith, and her fellow Christians are confirmed by her witness. It is her time of energy, and so she tries to woo and win others, by teaching them the things which she believes.

She advances a little farther; and, though often disappointed by the unbelief of men and the coldness of her fellow Christians, she nevertheless “hopes all things,” and pushes on in the expectation of winning more of them. Her dove’s eyes see in the dark, and she advances to victory through ever-growing conflict.

Ay, and when infirmities thicken upon her, and old age comes, and she can do little else but sit still, and bear and believe and hope, she still perseveres, and accepts even the stroke of death itself without complaining, for love “endureth all things.”

I do not think I need say more upon the difficulties of love. I am sure that every experienced person knows that these difficulties are supreme, and that we require superlative grace if we are to master them. Love does not ask to have an easy life of it: self-love makes that her aim. Love denies herself, sacrifices herself, that she may win victories for God, and bring blessings on her fellow-men. Hers is no easy pathway, and hers shall be no tinsel crown.

Secondly, let us survey the triumph of love’s labour. Her labours are fourfold.

First, in bearing all things. The word here rendered “bear” might as correctly have been translated “cover.” You that have the Revised Version will find in the margin, “Love covereth all things.” “Covereth” is the meaning of the word in ordinary Greek, but Paul generally uses the word in the sense of “bear.” Our translators, therefore, had to choose between the usual meaning and the Pauline usage, and they selected Paul’s meaning, and put it down in the first place as “beareth,” giving us in the margin the other sense of “covereth.” The two ideas may be blended, if we understand it to mean that love bears all things in silence, concealing injuries as much as possible even from herself.

Let us just think of this word “covers” in reference to the brethren. True love refuses to see faults, unless it be that she may kindly help in their removal. Love has no wish to see faults. Noah’s younger son discovered and declared the shame of his father, but his other sons took a garment and went backward and covered the nakedness of their father: after this fashion does love deal with the sins of her brethren. She painfully fears that there may be something wrong, but she is loath to be convinced of it: she ignores it as long as she can, and wishes that she could deny it altogether. Love covers; that is, it never proclaims the errors of good men. There are busybodies abroad who never spy out a fault in a brother but they must needs hurry off to their next neighbour with the savoury news, and then they run up and down the street as though they had been elected common criers. It is by no means honourable to men or women to set up to be common informers. Yet I know some who are not half so eager to publish the gospel as to publish slander. Love stands in the presence of a fault, with a finger on her lip. If anyone is to smite a child of God, let it not be a brother. Even if a professor be a hypocrite, love prefers that he should fall by any hand rather than her own. Love covers all injuries by being silent about them, and acting as if they had never been. She sitteth alone, and keepeth silence. To speak and publish her wrong is too painful for her, for she fears to offend against the Lord’s people. She would rather suffer than murmur, and so, like a sheep before her shearers, she is dumb under injury.

I would, brothers and sisters, that we could all imitate the pearl oyster. A hurtful particle intrudes itself into its shell, and this vexes and grieves it. It cannot eject the evil, and what does it do but cover it with a precious substance extracted out of its own life, by which it turns the intruder into a pearl. Oh, that we could do so with the provocations we receive from our fellow Christians, so that pearls of patience, gentleness, long-suffering, and forgiveness might be bred within us by that which else had harmed us. I would desire to keep ready for my rellow Christians, a bath of silver, in which I could electroplate all their mistakes into occasions for love. As the dripping well covers with its own deposit all that is placed within its drip, so would love cover all within its range with love, thus turning even curses into blessings. Oh that we had such love that it would cover all, and conceal all, so far as it is right and just that it should be covered and concealed.

As to bearing all, taking the words as they stand in our version, I wish to apply the text mainly to our trials in seeking the conversion of the unconverted. Those who love the souls of men must be prepared to cover much when they deal with them, and to bear much from them in silence. When I begin to seek the conversion of anyone, I must try as much as ever I can to ignore any repulsiveness that there may be in his character. I know that he is a sinner, else I should not seek his salvation; but if he happens to be one who has fallen very low in the esteem of others, I must not treat him as such, but cover his worst points. You cannot possibly bring the Samaritan woman who has had five husbands into a right state of mind by “wondering that he spake with the woman.” Thus the disciples acted, but not so their Master, for he sat on the well and talked with her, and made himself her willing companion that he might be her gracious Saviour; he ignored her sin so far as to converse with her for her good.

You will not long have begun this holy work before you will discover in the heart you seek to win much ignorance of the gospel. Bear with it, and bring forward the text which sheds light on that darkness, and teach the truth which will remove that error. Ere long you will have to contend with hardness of heart, for when a man knows the truth he is not always willing to receive it. Bear it, and be not vexed. Did you not expect the heart to be hard? Do not you know what business you are upon? You are sent to turn men from darkness to light and from the power of Satan unto God. Be not astonished if these things should not prove to be child’s play. In addition to this perhaps you will have ridicule poured upon you; your attempts to convert will be converted into jests. Bear it; bear all things! Remember how the multitude thrust out the tongue at your Lord and Master when he was dying, and be not you so proud as to think yourself too good to be laughed at. Still speak concerning Christ, and whatever happens, bear all things. I will not attempt to make a catalogue of your provocations, you shall make one yourself after you have tried to convert men to Christ; but all that you can possibly meet with is included in my text, for it says, “beareth all things.” If you should meet with some extraordinary sinner who opens his mouth with cruel speeches such as you have never heard before, and if by attempting to do him good you only excite him to ribaldry and blasphemy, do not be astonished; have at him again, for charity “beareth all things,” whatever they may be. Push on and say, “Yes, all this proves to me how much you want saving. You are my man; if I get you to Christ there will be all the greater glory to God.” O blessed charity, which can thus cover all things and bear all things for Christ’s sake.

Do you want an example of it? Would you see the very mirror and perfection of the charity that beareth all things? Behold your divine Lord. Oh, what he has covered! It is a tempting topic, but I will not dwell on it. How his glorious righteousness, his wondrous splendour of love, has covered all our faults and all their consequences, treating us as if he saw no sin in Jacob, neither perversity in Israel. Think what he bore when he came unto his own and his own received him not! What a covering was that when he said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” What a pitying sight of the fearful misery of man our Lord Jesus had when holy tears bedewed those sacred eyes! What a generous blindness to their infamous cruelty he manifested when he prayed for his bloodthirsty enemies. O beloved, you will never be tempted, and taunted, and tried as he was; yet in your own shorter measure may you possess that love which can silently bear all things for the elect’s sake and for Christ’s sake, that the multitude of the redeemed may be accomplished, and that Christ through you may see of the travail of his soul.

Now let us look at the second of love’s great labours. You have heard of the labours of Hercules, but the fabulous hero is far outdone by the veritable achievements of love. Love works miracles which only grace can enable her to perform. Here is the second of them-love “believeth all things.” In reference, first, to our fellow Christians, love always believes the best of them. I wish we had more of this faith abroad in all the churches, for a horrid blight falls upon some communities through suspicion and mistrust. Though everything may be pure and right, yet certain weak minds are suddenly fevered with anxiety through the notion that all is wrong and rotten. This unholy mistrust is in the air, a blight upon all peace: it is a sort of fusty mildew of the soul by which all sweet perfume of confidence is killed. The best man is suspected of being a designing knave, though he is honest as the day, and the smallest fault or error is frightfully exaggerated, till we seem to dwell among criminals and to be all villains together. If I did not believe in my brethren I would not profess to be one of them. I believe that with all their faults they are the best people in the world, and that, although the church of God is not perfect, yet she is the bride of One who is. I have the utmost respect for her, for her Lord’s sake. The Roman matron said “Where my husband is Caias I am Caia”; where Christ is King, she who stands at his right hand is “the queen in gold of Ophir.” God forbid that I should rail at her of whom her Lord says, “Since thou wast precious in my sight, thou hast been honourable, and I have loved thee.” True love believes good of others as long as ever it can, and when it is forced to fear that wrong has been done, love will not readily yield to evidence, but she gives the accused brother the benefit of many a doubt. When the thing is too clear, love says, “Yes, but the friend must have been under very strong temptation, and if I had been there I dare say I should have done worse;” or else love hopes that the erring one may have offended from a good though mistaken motive; she believes that the good man must have been mistaken, or he would not have acted so. Love, as far as she can, believes in her fellows. I know some persons who habitually believe everything that is bad, but they are not the children of love. Only tell them that their minister or their brother has killed his wife, and they would believe it immediately, and send out for a policeman: but if you tell them anything good of their neighbour, they are in no such hurry to believe you. Did you ever hear of gossips tittle-tattling approval of their neighbours? I wish the chatterers would take a turn at exaggerating other people’s virtues, and go from house to house trumping up pretty stories of their acquaintances. I do not recommend lying even in kindness, but that side of it would be such a novelty that I could almost bear with its evils for a change. Love, though it will not speak an untruth in praise of another, yet has a quick eye to see the best qualities of others, and it is habitually a little blind to their failings. Her blind eye is to the fault, and her bright is for the excellence. Somewhere or other I met with an old legend,-I do not suppose it to be literally true, but its spirit is correct. It is said that, once upon a time, in the streets of Jerusalem, there lay a dead dog, and everyone kicked at it and reviled it. One spoke of its currish breed, another of its lean and ugly form, and so forth; but one passed by who paused a moment over the dead dog, and said, “What white teeth it has.” Men said, as he went on his way, “That is Jesus of Nazareth.” Surely it is ever our Lord’s way to see good points wherever he can. Brethren, think as well as you can even of a dead dog. If you should ever be led into disappointments and sorrows by thinking too well of your fellow-men, you need not greatly blame yourself. I met, in Anthony Farrindon’s Sermons, a line which struck me. He says the old proverb has it, “Humanum est errare,” to err is human, but, saith he, when we err by thinking too kindly of others we may say, “Christanum est errare,” it is Christian to err in such a fashion. I would not have you credulous, but I would have you trustful, for suspicion is a cruel evil. Few fall into the blessed error of valuing their fellow Christians at too high a rate.

In reference to the unconverted this is a very important matter. Love “believeth all things” in their case. She does not believe that the unconverted are converted, for, if so, she would not seek their conversion. She believes that they are lost and ruined by the Fall, but she believes that God can save them. Love believes that the precious blood of Christ can redeem the bondslaves of sin and Satan, and break their iron chains; she believes that the power of the Holy Spirit can change a heart of granite into a heart of flesh. Love, therefore, believing this, believes also that God can save this sinner by herself, and she therefore begins to speak to him, expecting that the word she speaks will be God’s instrument of salvation. When she finds herself sitting next to a sinner, she believes that there was a necessity for her to be there, even as Christ must needs go through Samaria. She saith to herself, “Now will I tell to this poor soul what Christ hath done, for I believe that even out of my poor lips eternal life may flow, and in such a babe as I am God may perfect praise to his own glory.” She does not refrain from preaching Christ through fear of failure, but she believes in the great possibilities which lie in the gospel and in the Spirit of God, and so she deals earnestly with the man next her. She believes in her own principles, she believes in the grace of God, she believes in the power of the Spirit of God, she believes in the force of truth, she believes in the existence of conscience, and so she is moved to set about her saving work. She believeth all things.

Brethren, do you want a model of this? Then I beseech you look to your divine Master once again. See him in the morning when the sheep are counted, missing one of them, and so full of faith is he that he can find the lost one, that he leaves the ninety and nine, and cheerfully enters the pathless wilderness. See how he bounds over the mountains! How he descends the ravines! He is seeking his sheep until he finds it, for he is fully assured that he shall find it. He shall not fail nor be discouraged, for his faith is great in the salvation of men, and he goes forth to it believing that sinners shall be saved. I delight in the deep, calm faith of our Lord Jesus Christ. He had no faith in man’s goodness, for “he knew what was in man”; but he had great faith in what could be done in men and what could be wrought for them, and for the joy that was set before him in this he endured the cross despising the shame. He had faith that grand things would come of his salvation-men would be purified, error would be driven out, falsehood would be slain, and love would reign supreme.

Here is the second grand victory of love, she “believeth all things.” Herein let us exercise ourselves till we are skilled in it.

Love’s third great labour is in “hoping all things.” Love never despairs. She believes in good things yet to come in her fellow-men, even if she cannot believe in any present good in them. Hope all things about your brethren. Suppose a friend is a member of the church, and you cannot see any clear signs of grace in him, hope all things about him. Many true believers are weak in faith, and the operations of grace are dim in them; and some are placed in positions where the grace they have is much hindered and hampered: let us take these things into consideration. It is hard to tell how little grace may yet suffice for salvation: it is not ours to judge. Hope all things, and if you should be forced to see sad signs in them, which make you fear that they have no grace, yet, remember that some of the brightest believers have had their faults, and grave ones too. Remember yourself, lest you also be tempted. If you cannot hope that these persons are saved at all, hope that they will be, and do all that you can to promote so blessed an end.

Hope all things. If thy brother has been very angry with thee without a cause, hope that thou wilt win him; and set about the task. If thou hast tried and failed, hope to succeed next time, and try again. Hope that though thou hast failed seven times, and he still speaks bitterly, yet in his heart he is really ashamed, or at least that he will be so very soon. Never despair of your fellow Christians.

As to the unconverted, you will never do anything with them unless you hope great things about them. When the good Samaritan found the poor man half dead, if he had not hoped about him he would never have poured in the oil and the wine, but would have left him there to die. Cultivate great hopefulness about sinners. Always hope of them that they will be saved yet: though no good signs are apparent in them. If you have done your best for them, and have been disappointed and defeated, still hope for them. Sometimes you will find cause for hope in the fact that they begin to attend a place of worship. Grasp at that, and say, “Who can tell? God may bless them.” Or if they have long been hearers, and no good has come of it, still hope that the minister will one day have a shot at them, and the arrow shall pierce through the joints of the harness. When you last spoke to them there seemed a little tenderness: be thankful for it, and have hope. If there has been a little amendment in their life, be hopeful about them. Even if you can see nothing at all hopeful in them, yet hope that there may be something which you cannot see, and perhaps an effect has been produced which they are endeavouring to conceal. Hope because you are moved to pray for them. Get other people to pray for them, for as long as they have some one to pray for them their case is not given over. If you get others to pray, there will be another string to your bow. If they are very ill, and you cannot get at them, or they are on their dying beds, still have hope about them, and try to send them a message in some form or other. Pray the Lord to visit and save them; and always keep up your hope about them. Till they are dead let not your hope be dead.

Would you see a model of this? Ah, look at our blessed Lord, and all his hopefulness for us: how, despairing of none, he went after those whom others would have given up. If you ask a proof, remember how he went after you. Will you despair of anybody since Christ did not despair of you? Wonders of grace belong to God, and all those wonders have been displayed in many among us. If you and I had been there when they brought the adulterous woman taken in the very act, I am afraid that we should have said, “This is too bad; put her away, she cannot be borne with.” But oh, the hopefulness of the blessed Master when even to her he said, “Woman, where are thine accusers? Neither do I condemn thee. Go, and sin no more.” What wonderful patience, and gentleness, and hopefulness our Lord displayed in all his converse with the twelve! It was a noble hopefulness in Christ which led him to trust Peter as he did: after he had denied his Master with oaths, our Lord trusted him to feed his sheep and lambs, and set him in the forefront of apostolic service. He has also had compassion on some of us, putting us into the ministry, and putting us in trust with the gospel, for he knew what love would do for us, and he was certain he could yet make something of us to his own glory.

The last victory of love is in enduring all things, by which I understand a patient perseverance in loving. This is perhaps the hardest work of all, for many people can be affectionate and patient for a time, but the task is to hold on year after year. I have known some men earnestly check their temper under provocation, and bear a great many slights, but at last they have said, “There is an end to everything: I am not going to put up with it any longer. I cannot stand it.” Blessed be God, the love that Christ gives us endureth all things. As his love endured to the end, so does the love which the Spirit works in us endure to the end.

In reference first to our fellow Christians, love holds out under all rebuffs. You mean that I shall not love you, my good man, but I shall love you. You give me the rough side of your tongue, and make me see that you are not a very lovable person, but I can love you notwithstanding all. What? Will you do me a further unkindness? I will oppose you by doing you a greater kindness than before. You said a vile thing about me; I will not hear it, but if it be possible I will say a kind thing of you. I will cover you up with hot coals till I melt you; I will war against you with flames of love till your anger is consumed. I will master you by being kinder to you than you have been unkind to me. What hosts of misrepresentations and unkindnesses there are; but if you go on to be a true Christian you must endure all these. If you have to deal with people who will put up with nothing from you, take care to be doubly patient with them. What credit is there in bearing with those who bear with you? If your brethren are angry without a cause, be sorry for them, but do not let them conquer you by driving you into a bad temper. Stand fast in love; endure not some things, but all things, for Christ’s sake; so shall you prove yourself to be a Christian indeed.

As to your dealing with the unconverted, if ever you go into the field after souls, be sure to carry your gun with you, and that gun is love. You gentlemen who go out shooting partridges and other birds at this time of the year, no doubt find it a pleasant pastime; but for real excitement, joy, and pleasure, commend me to soul-winning. What did our Lord say, “I will make you fishers of men.” If you go out fishing for souls you will have to endure all things, for it will come to pass that some whom you have been seeking for a long time will grow worse instead of better. Endure this among the all things. Those whom you seek to bless may seem to be altogether unteachable, they may shut their ears and refuse to hear you; never mind, endure all things. They may grow sour and sullen, and revile you in their anger, but be not put about by them, let them struggle till they are wearied, and meanwhile do you quietly wait, saying to yourself, “I must save them.” A warder who has to take care of insane persons will frequently be attacked by them, and have to suffer hard blows; but what does he do? Strike the patient and make a fight of it? No, he holds him down and pins him fast; but not in anger, for he pities him too much to be angry with him. Does a nurse with a delirious patient take any notice of his cross words, and grumbling, and outcries? Not she. She says, “I must try to save this man’s life,” and so with great kindness she “endureth all things.” If you were a fireman, and found a person in an upper room, and the house was on fire, would you not struggle with him rather than let him remain in the room and burn. You would say, “I will save you in spite of yourself.” Perhaps the foolish body would call you names, and say, “Let me alone, why should you intrude into my chamber?” But you would say, “Never mind my intrusion; I will apologise afterwards for my rudeness, but you must be out of the fire first.” I pray God give you this blessed unmannerliness, this sweet casting of all things to the wind, if by any means you may save some.

If you desire to see the mirror and the paragon of persevering endurance, look you there! I wish you could see it. I wish these eyes could see the sight as I have sometimes seen it. Behold the cross! See the patient Sufferer and that ribald multitude: they thrust out the tongue, they sneer, they jest, they blaspheme; and there he hangs, triumphant in his patience, conquering the world, and death and hell by enduring “all things.” O love, thou didst never sit on a throne so imperial as the cross, when there, in the person of the Son of God, thou didst all things endure. Oh that we might copy in some humble measure that perfect pattern which is here set before us. If you would be saviours, if you would bless your generation, let no unkindness daunt you; let no considerations of your own character, or honour, or peace of mind keep you back, but of you may it be said, even as of your Lord, “He saved others, himself he could not save.”

Have not I shown you four grand battles far excelling all the Water-loos, and Trafalgars, and Almas, and Inkermans on record? Heroes are they that fight and win them, and the Lord God of love shall crown them.

I close by noting the sources of love’s energy. The time is gone, as I thought it would be, but it has brought us round in a circle to where we started from. The Holy Ghost alone can teach men how to love, and give them power to do so. Love’s art is learned at no other school but at the feet of Jesus, where the Spirit of love doth rest on those who learn of him. Beloved, the Spirit of God puts love into us, and helps us to maintain it, thus:-first, love wins these victories, for it is her nature. The nature of love is self-sacrifice. Love is the reverse of seeking her own. Love is intense; love is burning; therefore she burneth her way to victory. Love! Look at it in the mother. Is it any hardship to her to lose rest and peace and comfort for her child? If it costs her pain, she makes it pleasure by the ardour of her affection. It is the nature of love to court difficulties, and to rejoice in suffering for the beloved object. If you have fervent love to the souls of men, you will know how true this is.

Next to this, love has four sweet companions. There are with her tenderness that “beareth all things,” faith that “believeth all things,” hope that “hopeth all things,” and patience which “endureth all things,” and he that hath tenderness, and faith, and hope, and patience hath a brave quaternion of graces to guard him, and he need not be afraid. Best of all, love sucks her life from the wounds of Christ. Love can bear, believe, hope, and endure because Christ has borne, believed, and hoped, and endured for her. I have heard of one that had a twist: they say that he saw something that others never saw, and heard a voice that others never heard, and he became such a strange man that others wondered at him. Oh, that I had more and more of that most solemn twist which comes through feeling a pierced hand laid on my shoulder, and hearing in my ear a sorrowful voice, that selfsame voice which cried, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” I would see that vision and hear that voice, and then,-what then? Why, I must love; I must love; I must love. That would be the soul’s strange bias and sweet twist. Love makes us love; love bought us, sought us, and brought us to the Saviour’s feet, and it shall henceforth constrain us to deeds which else would be impossible. You have heard of men sometimes in a mad fit doing things that ordinary flesh and blood could never have performed. Oh to be distracted from selfishness by the love of Christ, and maddened into self-oblivion by a supreme passion for the Crucified. I know not how otherwise to put my thoughts into words so that they may hint at my burning meaning. May the Lord of love look into your very eyes with those eyes which once were red with weeping over human sin: may he touch your hands with those hands that were nailed to the cross, and impress the blessed nailmarks upon your feet, and then may he pierce your heart till it pour forth a life for love, and flow out in streams of kind desires, and generous deeds, and holy sacrifices for God and for his people. God grant it, for Jesus’ sake. Amen.

Portion of Scripture read before Sermon-1 Corinthians 13.

Hymns from “Our Own Hymn Book”-797, 264, 439.