THE LAW OF SELF-RENOUNCING LOVE
By P. T. Magan
“The law of self-renouncing love” is the very nature of Christ, and it is the “law of life for earth and heaven.” To love is to give, and to give is to live. “Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.” “When the grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it springs up and bears fruit. So the death of Christ would result in fruit for the kingdom of God. In accordance with the law of the vegetable kingdom, life was to be the result of His death. “Those who till the soil have the illustration ever before them. Year by year man preserves his supply of grain by apparently throwing away the choicest part. For a time it must be hidden under the furrow, to be watched over by the Lord. Then appears the blade, then the ear, and then the corn in the ear. But this development can not take place unless the grain is buried out of sight, hidden, and to all appearance, lost. “The seed buried in the ground produces fruit, and in turn this is planted. Thus the harvest is multiplied. So the death of Christ on the cross of Calvary will bear fruit unto eternal life. The contemplation of this sacrifice will be the glory of those who, as the fruit of it, will live through the eternal ages. “The grain of wheat that preserves its own life can produce no fruit. It abides alone. Christ could, if He chose, save himself from death. But should He do this, He must abide alone. He could bring no sons and daughters to God. Only by yielding up His life could He impart life to humanity. Only by falling into the ground to die could He become the seed of that vast harvest,—the great multitude that out of every nation, kindred, and tongue, and people are redeemed to God. “With this truth Christ connects the lesson of self-sacrifice that all should learn: ‘He that loveth his life shall lose it; and he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal.’ All who would bring forth fruit as workers together with Christ, must first fall into the ground and die. The life must be cast into the furrow of the world’s need. Self-love, self-interest, must perish. And the law of self-sacrifice is the law of self-preservation. The husbandman preserves his grain by casting it away. So in human life. To give is to live. The life that will be preserved is the life that is freely given in service to God and man. Those who for Christ’s sake sacrifice their life in this world, will keep it unto life eternal. “The life spent on self is like the grain that is eaten. It disappears, but there is no increase. A man may gather all he can for self; he may live and think and plan for self; but his life passes away, and he has nothing. The law of self-serving is the law of self-destruction.”—“Desire of Ages,” page 623. The law of giving is the law of life. All nature, inasmuch as it has partaken of the life of God, has partaken of this law. Our bodies are composed of millions of little cells. Each cell is alive. Physiologists talk to us of “cellular life.” And these multitudes of tiny cells are all engaged in giving. Each cell is constantly ministering life to other cells and organs.12Every one pours out vital life, which builds and nourishes another. Wonderful, is it not? All are busy, all are manifesting great activities. But each is laboring for another, and not for itself. The glands at the back of the mouth secrete saliva. For their own immediate benefit?—No, no! These work for the benefit of the stomach, the stomach in turn works for the blood, and the blood for the muscles. And when, weary with the work of the day, the cells, which have been busy all through its hours, lie down to rest, another legion of these little fellows instantly sets to work during the time of slumber to build up and repair these toilers of the day. Sometimes I love to pause a while, and ponder over the unselfish work of all the little cells that compose the human body, which, in reality, is naught but a colony of socialistic cells. What a beautiful thing a tear is! The heart of a tender, sensitive child is bursting with grief. His eyeballs begin to burn. There is a fire there. Then from a small, unnoticed gland, there quietly steals forth a tear. It is rapidly followed by another, and still another, and another, until a cooling stream is gently moistening the heated organ. And each tiny tear is born but for the briefest moment, to live not for itself, to be hurriedly brushed away, and sent into oblivion when its self-sacrificing work is done. The life within the body can not help doing this way. The life in the body comes from God, with whom to live is to give, and to give is to live. God does not cause the body thus to operate simply as an illustration of His ways, or as a figure to make plain His dealings in spiritual things. But this giving, self-denying, self-sacrificing method is all because the life of the body is God’s life, and the law of giving is God’s own law for His life.