New Testament Christianity
by J B Phillips
6. LOVE
In English‑speaking
countries at least we breathe such an atmosphere of diffused traditional
Christianity that we are apt to take some of the major Christian revelations
about God as though they were self‑evident, which of course they are not.
We assume that kindness is a better thing than intolerance, and love a better
thing than hatred. But these elementary assumptions are only true if the nature
of the Author of the whole bewildering universe is Himself kind,
understanding, and loving. Most people, whether inside or outside the churches,
attempt at least to believe that "God is Love". Many non‑Christians
have not the faintest idea that this is a purely Christian concept, and that
before the coming of the Gospel no nation in the world had ever dared to conceive
of God as active, Personal Love. Of course the Old Testament contains many
passages which refer to the love of God, but it would be fair to say that on
the whole they are conditional. Put very crudely, the burden of the Old
Testament messages in general is: "If you are good and obey the Lord, He
will be kind and will prosper you. But if you are disobedient and arouse His
wrath, then He will most surely destroy you." We might profitably compare
this prevailing Old Testament atmosphere with Jesus' parable of the Father and
the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11‑32) or with His specific statement, "He
is kind unto the unthankful and to the evil" (Luke
"God"
in various religions might be thought of as benevolent towards the mortal
creation, but the reason why the Gospel was Good News when it first burst upon
the world was simply that men had realised that God is Love. The revelation of
character provided by Christ Himself, the awe‑full brunt of suffering
which He was prepared to bear in order to redeem mankind, His triumph over
man's last enemy, His ascension to timeless reality taking Human Nature with
Him as it were, His continual coming by the Spirit to transform and reinforce
men's lives ‑ all these, the unshakable convictions of the Young Church,
showed one thing, that God is by nature Love and that He loves mankind. Men who
accepted this foundation‑truth found an indefinable endorsement of it in
their own hearts. They also found that their own "love‑energy",
which had previously been turned in upon themselves or was being given to the
wrong things, now became an outflowing love embracing their fellow‑men
for whom Christ died. Further, this love not only changed in direction but in
quality. It was something more than natural love, it began to resemble divine
Love. Indeed, it is hardly an exaggeration to say that Christianity gave the
word "love" a new and deeper meaning. The new love was stimulated and
developed by accepting the love of God as shown in Christ. "If God so loved
us, we ought also to love one another", wrote John (1 John
I
am convinced that a great deal of the joyful experience and invincible courage
of the Young Church was due simply to the fact that the early Christians
believed these words to be literally true. To them nothing could alter this
basic fact, and no experience of life could separate them from God's
unremitting love. I have become absolutely convinced that what we need to
recover, perhaps more than anything else, is the conviction that God is not
merely kindly disposed towards us, but that He is Love. Some theology will not
allow us to enjoy this beautiful simplicity. It is far too good to be true, and
the implication seems to be that if we were allowed to take John's words at
their face value, we should all misbehave ourselves very badly. Consequently
we are often told that God's love is not to be imagined in terms of human love,
that it is higher, deeper, truer, and sterner. In fact, if we are not very much
on our guard we are cheated of the Good News ‑ the inestimable comfort of
knowing that God is Love is whisked away and we are given instead something so
poor, unbending, and relentless, that instead of being reassured and inspired,
we are repulsed and frightened. The Divine Lover has become "the Hound of
Heaven".
Now of course, like every other
clergyman and minister, I am familiar with the arguments which surround the
Love of God with any number of caveats and provisos. Those who arrogate to
themselves the task of interpreting God's Love frequently cannot bear it to be
either universal or vulnerable. Yet if there is one lesson, above all, which
sticks out a mile from the awe‑full spectacle of the Crucifixion of the
Son of God, it is that His Love is vulnerable. It is not a conditional love, it
is an open‑hearted, generous self‑giving which God offers to men.
Those who would carefully limit the operation of God's Love to people who
fulfil certain conditions, usually of their own making, have missed the point.
Their Gospel is not "God is Love" but "God is love if you will
fulfil the conditions which we will outline to you". The risk of
proclaiming God's unconditional love towards mankind is precisely the same
risk which God Himself took in becoming Man in Christ. People sometimes talk
as though there would be a carelessness or even flippancy about living if
John's words were taken at their face value. But is this really true? Is it not
simply that those who are secretly afraid of God or who secretly hate Him are
themselves lacking in love? And is it not equally true that those who have
grasped something of the amazing love of God are most filled with generous
love towards others?
I must say at this point that I
am profoundly disturbed by the technique of several modern evangelists, though
not, thank God, of all. This technique is to arouse feelings of guilt and fear,
which is not too difficult in many sensitive, conscientious people, and, having
got people thoroughly miserable about their sins, to point them to the Saviour.
Of course the Old Testament is dredged to provide ammunition for this kind of
spiritual assault, and indeed it is not a very arduous task we find texts from
the Old Testament prophets which, ripped from their context, can produce the
guilt‑feeling which many modern evangelists so earnestly desire. If these
men are right, then one is driven to the conclusion that both Jesus Himself and
the
If it is true that God is Love,
then it follows that, as John so rightly points out, "every one that
loveth is born of God, and knoweth God" (1 John 4:7). This we shall find
absolutely true to life's experience and to our own. It is when we love, even a
little, that we sense a kinship with the nature of things. For instance, in the
course of true love between a man and a woman, or in the, experience of parents
with their new‑born child ‑ that is, at times of special sensitivity
‑ many ordinary people feel that they are somehow touching Reality.
Similarly, those who devote their lives whole‑heartedly to the service
of, shall we say, deaf, blind, or mentally‑defective children, not
infrequently find a satisfying sense that they are in accord with some purpose
much greater than themselves. Examples could be multiplied again and again,
but in the experience of ordinary people, without any particular religious
faith, the actions of real love sometimes announce themselves as part of the
divine Love. The opposite is equally true. However religious a man may be,
however correct his beliefs and punctilious his ritual observances, unless he
loves he does not know God.
It is peculiarly salutary to
reflect that in the earthly life of Jesus His bitterest enemies were the
respectably religious whose god was their own righteousness. By far the most
determined persecution of the
Of course the touching of
reality, accidentally as it were by the normal giving of the human heart, can
remain no more than a passing feeling. Its significance, its tremendous
significance, can easily be missed. That is why so many pages were spent above
in writing of the faculty of faith. For unless a man is prepared to use his
faculty of faith and grasp the fact that God is Love, he will never rise above
the level of being an "unconscious Christian", to his own loss and
the loss of the Christian fellowship which we call the Church. This country, at
least, has many thousands of such unconscious Christians. These men and women
need to be told that what they are following, often spasmodically, is indeed
ultimate reality and has been focused for us all in the recorded life of Jesus
Christ. They already know something of love, but the garbled version of the
Gospel which they hear from certain high‑pressure evangelists does
nothing to associate in their minds the ideas of "love" and of
"God". How early Paul saw the full truth we do not precisely know,
but certainly in I Corinthians 13 he has reached a point of insight which is
quite miraculous in a man with his training and background. He sees now with
the utmost clarity that whatever tremendous and impressive things he may
accomplish, however wide and deep his knowledge, however strong his faith, if
he has no love he amounts to nothing at all.
Because all Christians (however
hard‑boiled they may be in the liquor of the special tenets of their own
denominational party) realise to some extent the truth of Paul's words, we
find them at least attempting to love. But all those who try to love are beset
by certain temptations of which these are the chief :
1. The Temptation to Imitate Love
It has truly been said that we
only grow in character when we are "real", and if we merely force
ourselves to act as loving Christians we do not learn to love, nor do we grow
in love. Yet this sort of acting, even though it be unconscious, is quite common
among Christians, and probably plays some part in all of our lives. We need to
do a little honest self‑examination here, and to realise that no
spiritual progress is made and no lasting spiritual growth occurs without
honesty. If we find we cannot love, it is of no use at all to cover up our
failure by a pretence. It is far better to turn to God Who is Love and freely
admit our deficiency and allow the Spirit of God to change our inner attitude
and produce the genuine fruit of love.
I believe a good deal of
nonsense is talked about the business of "liking" and
"loving". I have listened to several sermons in which the
congregation has been told in effect that we cannot help our likes and
dislikes, and that the most God expects of us towards those we dislike is to
act as though we loved them. Of course the first part of this contention is
true; for reasons of which we are largely unconscious, we may instinctively
dislike, perhaps violently dislike, certain people even though they be with us
in the Christian fellowship. That is a situation common to nearly all of us.
But is the real solution to "act" as though we love such people? I
believe there is a better and more constructive course for the Christian to
pursue. Jesus told us to pray for those who "despitefully use us and
persecute us" (Matthew 5:44), and if the greater includes the less I
should imagine that includes those who "get on our nerves", "rub
us up the wrong way", "get in our hair", or whatever expression
we use privately about them. I make no pretence that this is an easy path to
pursue, but I do suggest that if we pray for those who annoy and irritate us
and whom we dislike, our dislike is lessened and our understanding is
increased. We must naturally be perfectly honest about it. We must say to Him,
Who is the Father of us all, in all honesty and simplicity: "I hate the
sight of so‑and‑so. He (or she) irritates me beyond endurance and
always brings out the worst in me. Help me to pray for him (or her)." It
takes considerable courage to embark on this course of action, but the situation
is invariably improved, and sometimes it is revolutionised. In praying for a
person's real self, we grow immeasurably in tolerance and understanding, and it
is not unknown for instinctive dislike to be transformed into respect,
understanding, and even love. But this will never happen if we insist on
maintaining an inner attitude of: "I can't help it; I always have
disliked so‑and-so and I always will."
Now, naturally since any change
of inward attitude normally takes time, we have got to "act" (and act
in love) justly and fairly towards those whom we dislike, but purely as an
interim way of behaviour and not as our final attitude.
There is a further danger of
imitation love. It is perfectly possible for us to behave kindly, justly, and
correctly towards one another, and yet withhold that giving of the
"self" which is the essence of love. Married people will perhaps more
easily appreciate what I am trying to say. A husband may behave with perfect
kindness and consideration towards his wife, he may give her a generous
allowance, he may do more than his share of the household chores, and indeed he
may do all the things which an ideal husband is supposed to do. But if he
withholds "himself", the marriage will be impoverished. Women who
seem to know these things intuitively would infinitely prefer the husband to be
less kind, considerate, and self‑sacrificing if only they were sure that
he, with all his imperfections and maddening ways, gave "himself" in
love in the marriage. This principle applies to some extent to all human
relationships, and I am pretty certain that it is this costly self‑giving
love which Paul had in mind in I Corinthians 13. Many, even among Christians,
shrink from it, not I think because they are afraid to give but because they
are afraid that their gift will not be appreciated; in short, that they may be
hurt. But surely this is the risk that love must always take, and without this
giving of the self with all the risks that that entails, love is a poor pale
imitation. "Consider Him"
writes the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews (12: 3).; and if we do, we find
that this is precisely the sort of rejectable, vulnerable love that Christ
lived and died to prove.
2. The Temptation to Hate Oneself
The cheerful pagan takes
himself, as a rule, very much for granted; but the Christian who is sooner or
later brought face to face with Truth is disgusted and dispirited to find how
self‑loving and self‑centred his life really is. The more he comes
into contact with the living Christ the more he realises there is to be put
right, and if he is not careful his normal pride and self‑respect go
suddenly "into reverse". The more he thinks of the standards of love
and those who live by them, the more wrong he feels until he ends with a
thorough‑going contempt for himself and all his doings. The self with
whom he has lived for some years in reasonable comfort becomes an intolerable
person; before long he has slipped into despising himself whole‑heartedly.
Now this, despite what some religious books have said, is a thoroughly bad
state of mind in which to live. The man who despises or hates himself will
sooner or later, for all his religious protestations, reveal hatred and
contempt for his brother‑men. Whatever his profession of love for
"sinners", the contempt for the sin which he has found in himself is
all too easily projected on to those who sin.
At
this point we need to consider the sane words of Jesus Christ Himself.
According to Him, the second great commandment for a man is "to love his
neighbour as himself" (Matthew
This business of hating
oneself, though it appears virtuous, is in reality one of Satan's most
plausible devices. It keeps a man preoccupied with himself and his sins; it
puts part of a man in a very superior position from which he can look down and
despise the rest of himself. We might well reflect something like this:
"If God loves me for all my faults and peculiarities, who am I to say that
I am not worth loving?" The abject attitude of self‑loathing may be
natural in the presence of God's holiness, but never do we find in the Bible
that God requires its continuance. Having seen and admitted our faults, the
command is to stand, or go, or do. We are all of us very far from perfect, but
God does not wait for our perfection before He can use us in His purposes, a
fact for which we can be grateful, and the business of transforming us from
within always takes time. Let us, without being complacent or self‑indulgent,
come to good‑humoured terms with ourselves. It is a good thing to see how
far we are off course, but no good purpose is served by despising ourselves
for having been such poor pilots. It is a strange thing how hard it is for most
of us to laugh at ourselves. We would far rather despise ourselves as sinners,
even the chief of sinners, than laugh at ourselves as self‑important little
idiots! The plank in our own eye (see Matthew 7:3; Luke
3. The Temptation to
Separate Love of God from Love of People
"The more I see of some
people, the more I love my dog" runs the modem half‑humorous
comment. Of course it is far easier to love a devoted animal who more than
rewards us by the utmost fidelity and affection, than it is to love people who
in addition to being much more complex beings often do not reward us at all.
Similarly, it is easy to love humanity without loving people. Many of the
greatest crimes against individual living people have been committed in the
name of love for humanity. There are plenty of people with us today who will
talk about world peace and the universal brotherhood of man who yet cannot get
on with their own families or neighbours. People, in fact, unless they happen
to be our own special friends, are quite difficult to love.
Naturally Jesus knew this very
well, and He connected inseparably the love of God with the love of other
people. Indeed, it is part of the act of incarnation that God and human beings
are indissolubly wedded. This is the kind of fact which most of us would rather
not have to face. It is comparatively easy for us to imagine God as the
perfection of all beauty, truth, and love, and to respond with worship and
adoration to such a Being. What we find almost too much to stomach is that this
very same God has allied Himself through Christ with ordinary human beings. In
Jesus' famous parable of the Last judgment (Matthew 25:31‑46) men find,
to their astonishment, that their treatment of fellow human beings is adjudged
to be the same thing as their treatment of Christ Himself. In certain
"doctored" Bibles, such as one that lies before me now, this passage
is carefully marked so as to indicate that it does not apply to the "saved"
at all. As a translator, I wonder by what right the editors of this world-famous
tendentious Bible have dared to bracket these incredibly challenging words,
simply because they do not fit in with their own tight scheme of salvation. The
words were spoken by Christ, and they are plain for all to read, shy as we may
be of accepting their implication. They mean that the way we treat other people
is a certain indication of the way we treat Christ ‑ indeed, it is the
way in which we treat Christ. They are revolutionary words, and they are meant
to be revolutionary. If we follow the way of love, which is the way of Christ,
we find ourselves committed not to loving our own little circle but to an
attitude of love towards all men. Our aim and our ideal is to be "perfect,
even as our Father which is in heaven is perfect" (Matthew
John once
asked pertinently: "For he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen,
how can he love God whom he hath not seen?" (I John 4:20). Of course if we
separate in our minds God and Man, and regard God as wholly Other, the answer
is easy. God is unimaginable beauty and goodness; but Man is ignorant, stupid,
selfish, and irritating. But if we once digest the truth that God has identified
Himself with Man in Christ, then we see the force of John's question. We can
also realise the force of his bald statement in the same verse, "If a man
say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar" (I John
.
4. The Temptation to Feel that People are not Worth Loving
The world is lamentably short
of outgoing love. Part of the reason for this is because it is so much easier
to love among our own circle, or at least to love those who will return our
love. Although we do not express it in so many words, I believe that one of the
reasons why so few people venture to give themselves for the sake of other
people is because they feel that "people are not really worth it".
But who are we, we who call ourselves Christians, "saved", pillars
of the Church, etc.? In what way do we think that we were "worth it",
when Christ visited this earth to save us? In the eyes of Heaven this whole sin‑infected,
blundering human race could hardly have seemed worthy of the highest sacrifice
which God Himself could make for its redemption. Yet love took the initiative
and bore unspeakable contradiction, misunderstanding, and humiliation to win
us to Himself. To quote John's words again, "if God so loved us, we ought
also to love one another" ( I John
This sense of first being loved
and then being willing to give oneself in love is the secret of life such as
that of Paul. I mention Paul simply because we know a fair amount about his
life, but there must have been hundreds of others whose names we do not even
know who gave themselves similarly in love to the world around them; yet how rare
is that love found in the Church today among its ordinary members! Thank God,
there are exceptions in all the Churches, men and women who will go into the
dark and messy situations of human life to bring the light and order of Christ.
There are at this moment thousands of such people scattered throughout the
world ‑ doctors, nurses, pastors, teachers, social workers of all kinds ‑
who make tremendous sacrifices because they are impelled by the love of Christ.
But they are a tiny minority compared with the membership figures of all the
Churches. Why is there, in this country at least, such a tragic shortage of
Christian workers? Men and women are desperately needed not only to teach in
Sunday‑school and run youth organisations, but to bring the salvation of
Christ to the juvenile delinquents, to guide and teach and shepherd in His
Name thousands who have no hope and are "without God in the world"
(Ephesians 2:12). As I have travelled about this country the story is almost
always the same: "If only we had devoted men and women as Christian
leaders. . . ." The real lack is the lack of love. Not enough people have
realised the Love of God and His tremendous Purpose; not enough have so
experienced His Love that they are prepared to love other people at considerable
personal cost. There can be no revival of the Church's life or the Church's
influence until the Love of God sweeps once more into the hearts of men and
women as it did into the
on to 7. The Love-deficiency