| Finding the Way |
Chapter 6 |
Page 3 |
The love of Christ constraineth us.” Commentators discuss the question whether this means Christ’s love for us or ours for Him. It must mean both. Christ’s love for us comes first. What the sun is to the trees and grasses and flowers in the springtime, the love of Christ is to our love. If he did not love us, we never should love Him. Our love would sleep on and never awake but for His kiss. When we begin to know that Christ loves us we begin to love Him. “We love Him because He first loved us.”
Christ’s love transforms. It repeats itself in our lives. A chaplain on a battlefield came to a man who was wounded, lying on the ground. “Would you like me to read you something from this book – the Bible?” he asked the soldier. “I’m so thirsty,” replied the man; “I would rather have a drink of water.” Quickly as he could the chaplain brought the water and held it to the parched lips. Then the soldier asked, “Could you put something under my head?” The chaplain took off his own light overcoat, rolled it, and put it gently under the soldier’s head for a pillow. “Now,” said the soldier, ‘if I had something over me! I am very cold.” There was only one thing the chaplain could do. He took off his own coat and spread it over the soldier. The wounded man looked up into the face and said gratefully, “Thank you.” Then after a moment’s pause he said: “If there is anything in that book in your hand that makes a man do for another what you have done for me, please read it to me.” Men are ready to hear us read the book which tells of the love of Christ for them only when our lives interpret what the book says.
Recently a story appeared in one of the papers, entitled, “How a Man Coined His Heart.” It was a poor artist. There had been in his life a sad story of love, true and deep on his part, yet seemingly unrequited, and even false, on the part of the other. The world had not known anything of it – he had kept his secret very close. But there came a call for a piece of work – a calendar – and the artist put his life’s whole story into it – the springtime, with its beauty; the summer, with its bloom; the autumn, with its decaying hope; the winter, with its dreary desolation. He coined his heart into his picture and sold it to get bread for his hunger. Christ coined His heart into a great sacrifice of love, and purchased redemption for the world. The cross is the love of Christ, pouring out its gold. So we are to coin our hearts into lives of love and service, into deeds of kindness and helpfulness.
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