Christlikeness: Sympathy

We propose to mention briefly some of the traits of character, which are conspicuous in the life of our Savior; and which present themselves particularly to our notice and observation; beginning with those, which, in consequence of their close alliance with the constitution of human nature, seem to have a natural as well as a religious character.

And accordingly we proceed to remark, in the first place, that the Savior, considered in his human nature, was a man of SYMPATHY. And in making this remark, we mean to imply, that he was a man of sympathy on natural as well as on religious principles; sympathetic as a man, as well as  sympathetic as a religious man. And as such, it is very obvious from the Scriptures, that he felt a deep interest in all those, who are the proper objects both of natural and religious sympathy; for the sick, for the poor, the ignorant, the tempted, the suffering of all classes and conditions. Although he loved religious retirement, and knew more than any one else the inestimable privilege of being alone with God, he felt deeply the claims of a common humanity; and in obedience to those claims came forth, and lived, and suffered among men; weeping with those who wept and rejoicing with those who rejoiced. He gave no countenance to an exclusively solitary religion; a religion, which under the name of meditation and prayer, shuts itself up in barren insulation, and has no deep and operative sympathy with men. Where there were wounds to be healed, whether mentally or bodily; where there were tears to be dried up; whenever and wherever he could add to the amount of human happiness or detract from the sum of human misery, he was present.

He deeply sympathized with those, who are the subjects of religious trials and duties, especially with the beginners in the divine life, with the weak ones and lambs of his flock. Accordingly he adapted his instructions to their capacity of understanding; and also to their present degree of advancement and strength of purpose. And hence it is, that on a certain occasion after having made some communications to his disciples, he added, "I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now."  It  is expressly said, in allusion to this interesting trait of his character; "a bruised reed he shall not break and smoking flax he shall not quench."

It is hardly necessary to add, that those, who, in experiencing the inward restoration; have been raised anew in the image of Christ's likeness, will exhibit this interesting trait in a marked degree. There can be no such thing as a truly holy heart, which is destitute of a pure and deep sympathy.

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (1844) Part 2, Chapter 13.

Christlikeness

"Therefore, if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature. Old things are passed away. Behold, all things are become new." 2 Cor. 5:17.

"For even hereunto were ye called; because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an EXAMPLE, that ye should follow his steps." 1 Pet. 2:21.

The old life perishes, in order that there may be a new creation in Christ. The deformity of the ancient nature passes away, and the image of Christ in the soul takes its place. And we can try and be assured of the truth of the resurrection from the death of sin, only by its likeness to the life of the Savior. It is a matter of great gratitude, therefore, that the Gospel not only delineates holiness, which is but another name for the true inward life, by means of abstract statements; but represents it visibly and sensibly in the beautiful mirror of the Savior's personal history. This is a mirror, which it is necessary for every Christian, and especially for those who are earnestly seeking the entire sanctification of the heart, to contemplate prayerfully and unceasingly. The more we study the life of Christ, if we do it with a consecrated and prayerful spirit, the more it is reasonable to suppose we shall be like him. And in proportion as we bear his likeness, will those various imperfections and inconsistencies, which often mar the lives of his followers, disappear.

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (2nd edition 1844) Part 2, Chapter 13.

The Present Moment

It is difficult to attach too much importance to the present moment, considered in its relations to inward experience. The value of our past experience, in itself considered, can never be changed; and the untried future is wholly unknown to us. It is obvious, therefore, that we are what we are NOW. We are, and we can be, only what we are, when we are estimated by the facts, the relations, and the duties of the present moment. It is only in the facts, the relations, and the duties of the present moment that God offers himself to our notice.  We must meet with him there, and harmonize with him there, or meet with him and harmonize with him no where.

— Religious Maxims (1846) CXLVII.

The World Living In Us

The world is sometimes described as a troublesome world; but there is still greater and more practical truth in a remark which is sometimes made, that our chief troubles do not arise from our living in the world, but from the fact of the world's living in us.

— Religious Maxims (1846) CXLVI.

"The Kingdom of God is Within You."

"The kingdom of God is within you."  The soul's inward redemption, that is to say, its redemption from present sin and its unity with God in will and life, can be sustained, and sustained only, by the present indwelling and operation of the Holy Ghost.

— Religious Maxims (1846) CXLV.

Means and Ends

In the discharge of those duties which are incumbent upon us, if our hearts are right with God, we shall consider it indispensably necessary to employ just means, as well as to aim at just ends. And however just and desirable the ends may be, in themselves considered, if the methods or means are such as we cannot rightfully employ, we must always regard the end as forbidden.

— Religious Maxims (1846) CXLIV.

The Last Trump

"Behold I show you  a  mystery. We  shall not  all  sleep, but we  shall  all  be  changed.  In a moment, in  the twinkling  of an eye, at the  last trump: for  the trumpet shall sound, and  the  dead  shall  be raised." 1 Cor. xv. 51, 52.

When the last trump shall sound, all earth shall hear,
The sea's wide tumbling waves be fixed with dread,
The startled mountains turn their iron ear,
The hills shall flee away, and hide their head.
Leviathan shall plunge into his cave,
His deepest cave; the lion to his den;
In the black clouds the birds their wings shall wave,
And screaming loud, respond the cries of men;
And men, poured forth from cot and splendid hall,
Shall mingle with the cattle in the fields,
While, tost and breaking at the trumpet's call,
The rending ground beneath their footstep yields.
When all is changing, all in horror mixed,
The Christian's soul remains believing, calm, and fixed.

— American Cottage Life (1850) XXI.