The Sermon by J. O. Corliss

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Dec 6, 1877

The Sermon.

By J. O. Corliss

THE LOVE OF GOD.

BY ELD. J. O. CORLISS.

TEXT: “Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God.” 1 John 3:1.

To be called a son of God, and as such hold communion with him, is the most exalted privilege to which man can attain. It is the honor that was enjoyed by Adam in Eden. God conversed with him as with a son. He bore that title. Luke 3:38. In his creation, a Father’s love was manifested in the careful preparations made for his comfort and happiness, so that Adam had only to enter upon and enjoy perfect bliss from the earliest moment of his existence. Failing to appreciate a Father’s love, which had made him his son, and ruler of creation, man betrayed the confidence reposed in him, and forfeited all title to God’s favor by basely deserting his service for that of an enemy and usurper. God’s love now stands out in bold contrast with man’s selfishness.

Instead of turning from Adam with contempt, as man does from his fellow-man in similar cases, God talks with him, telling him of the heinousness of his crime, and what he has lost by doing wrong. As a sense of his guilt comes over him, and he understands that God is about to leave him in consequence, he realizes the terrible condition into which he has fallen by disobedience, and shame and remorse fill his soul.

And now, lest he sink in utter despair, God speaks again. Adam scarcely believes his ears, yet he cannot be mistaken. He certainly hears the promise of deliverance through the seed of the woman; and as this thrilling news breaks in upon his senses, he grasps the promise by faith and makes it his. That moment hope springs up, affectionate desires revive, and he joyfully returns to his allegiance, resolving to learn submission under the hand of God.

But the promise to Adam was not enough. For the benefit of future generations, who otherwise could not appreciate their condition, God made a revelation of his will, giving ample instructions by which all may evade the terrible results of the fall, and with him partake of that hope consequent upon believing the promise. Paul, in speaking upon this point, says, “For whatsoever things were written aforetime, were written for our learning, that we through patience and comfort of the Scriptures might have hope.” Rom. 15:4.

The love of God did not end with simply a revelation of his will. Lest man, still surrounded with evil influences, should look into that word and yet remain indifferent to his own interests, means were employed to arrest his attention, and cause him to feel his lost condition; for without this there could be no hope of his recovery. That power which in the beginning “moved upon the face of the waters,” bringing order and harmony out of chaos and confusion, and presented the earth as an inviting habitation for man, can also move upon the natural, unregenerate heart, and transform it into a dwelling-place for God and his word. The word is spoken, and the Holy Spirit goes forth to become a medium of communication between Heaven and earth, and reunite fallen man with the infinite Creator.

True to his mission, the Spirit operates in harmony with the word, and reveals to each his forlorn and hopeless condition while in sin, pointing out the path of righteousness, which, if followed, will effect a change in the whole life. One sees the need of reform, but fails to undertake it. Another commences the work, too soon to learn the insufficiency of human strength. Beset with temptations on every hand, discouraged by trials and afflictions, and baffled by the enemy at every point, he soon realizes his weakness, and like a weary, sorrowing child, yearns for the sympathy and consolation that only his Father’s love can afford. How infinitely precious the love that could foresee and provide for such contingencies. Even now, while that agonizing, struggling soul is trying to make known its wants in prayer, the Spirit of God comes in to help his infirmities, teach him to pray, and bear witness that the humility of his heart is accepted in the sight of God.

Could one ask more at the hands of an intimate friend? Yet God has done much more for guilty man. Knowing his weakness under temptation, and utter inability to perform the work assigned him, the angels of Heaven are commissioned to minister to his wants, and guard him from evil influences through all the journey of life. What a condescension on the part of God! He does not withhold even the angels that stand in his presence, but sends them forth to minister to all who really desire to walk in his ways. Paul says: “Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation?” Heb. 1:14. Numerous instances of their ministration are recorded in the Bible. Daniel was cast into the den of lions, and escaped unharmed. God sent an angel to shut the lions’ mouths, and thus preserved him. Dan. 6:22. Peter was lying asleep in prison, bound with chains to a soldier on each side of him. Suddenly a light shone into the prison; the angel of the Lord touched his chains, which fell off: he walked through the prison gate, which opened of its own accord, and as the angel departed, Peter found himself on the street of the city, a free man. Acts 12. The psalmist says, “The angel of the Lord encampeth round about them that fear him, and delivereth them.” Ps. 34:7. All may receive the guardianship of angels, as this is the mission of them all.

But God has given still better proof of his love for the fallen race. He “so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him, should not perish, but have everlasting life.” John 3:16. He freely yielded his only Son, who shared the glory of the throne of Heaven, to die a cruel death. And this sacrifice was made that man might escape the corruption of the world, and be a partaker of the divine nature. What an undertaking was this! Had one a dear friend condemned to death, what courage would be required to die in his stead, and with what admiration would all look upon such an act. This, however, would require such love, and so great a sacrifice, that though a man were universally esteemed, and well known to be unjustly condemned, one could scarcely be found to give his life in exchange. But how infinitely great was the love manifested by God in giving his Son to die for those who were his enemies. Rom. 5:7, 8.

Not in the death of Christ alone was this wonderful love shown; but in his life as well. Paul says, “For ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might be rich.” 2 Cor. 8:9. He who could boast the wealth of all the worlds combined, and the enjoyment of the Father’s glory, stepped down from his high station to minister to fallen man, and raise him from the depths of degradation to the position of child and heir of God. With what earnest solicitude must the Father’s eye have followed the Son through all the changes of his earthly career, fraught as they were with temptations, and trials, and sorrows. While nearly famished by that long fast of forty days and nights, the Father permitted him to undergo severe temptations, without any interposition. Jesus endured them without sin, and, as the Captain of our salvation, was made perfect through suffering. Heb. 4:15; 2:10.

No less could be expected than that Satan would make an effort to destroy the promised Deliverer; but when man, for whom these sufferings were endured, failed to appreciate him, and only derided and mocked, what inconceivable love was that which could brook such treatment, and still persevere in what seemed almost a thankless task! But the Son of God toils on from day to day, scattering the seeds of truth in his pathway, and cheering the hearts of the lowly by constant acts of kindness.

At Nain behold that sorrowing widow following in the burial train of her son, the only support and comfort of her old age. Hope dies within her heart, and her grief seems unbearable. Jesus looks upon the scene, and his heart is moved with compassion. He quietly calls to the young man, and to the surprise and joy of all, he that was dead sits up and speaks. Instantly the mother’s tears are dried, and ecstasy fills her soul as she fondly embraces her son. The first impulse of joy over, she turns to express her gratitude to the stranger, but he is gone. He has been repaid in witnessing

her happiness, and has retired to seek other occasions of doing good.

These deeds of kindness were not confined to any particular class or locality. At Bethany he weeps at the grave of Lazarus, and restores him to life. At Capernaum he heals one of the leprosy, and cures another who is sick of the palsy. He restores sight to the blind men of Jericho. The deaf and dumb man of Decapolis is made to both hear and speak, and the impotent man of Bethesda is made entirely whole. Wherever he went gracious words were spoken, and mighty miracles performed, all pointing to him as the Promised One; yet the “world knew him not,” and moved on regardless of his ministrations.

Even his own, whom he came to save, do not receive him; but demand his life instead. A consultation is held by the chief priests as to the best means of getting him in their power, and they finally bargain with one who affects to be a friend and follower, for the delivery of his Master to death. On that memorable night, while partaking of the last supper, he becomes exceeding sorrowful, and reveals to his disciples that he must soon leave them. Jesus knew that his hour was come, and going into the garden he prayed alone. The sins of the world press upon him, he feels their enormous weight. In distress he cries, “O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt.”

How altered the appearance of the Son of God! That countenance, before so tranquil and beaming with holy light, now pleadingly upturned, is stained and marred with the blood which like great sweat-drops is coursing down his cheeks. What anguish is depicted on those features, as that agonizing cry goes forth upon the evening air! Does God hear? Can he look upon his only Son in such an hour, and not rescue him? Will he carry out a plan that costs so much? Yes, blessed be the name of God; his love is adequate to the price, and it will be paid.

Immediately an angel is seen strengthening Jesus for the terrible ordeal. He retires a short distance, only to meet an armed multitude with Judas at the head. That disciple who had sailed the stormy Galilee, and had beheld with awe its tempest-lashed waves subside at the word of command, he who had seen the sick healed and the dead raised by the touch of the Master, now meanly betrays him into the hands of his enemies; and his disciples forsake him and flee. What base ingratitude, that could induce one to commit so vile an act! Will God suffer it? Legions of angels are ready to fly to his rescue, but Jesus calmly submits to be taken and led a prisoner to the high priest’s house, where he suffers indignity and reproach of every kind.

But we pass this scene of humiliation only to witness one more appalling. We follow Jesus as, faint and weary, he toils his way up Calvary. Look! He is cruelly nailed to the rugged cross. The cross is erected, and Jesus is “lifted up,” a spectacle to men and angels. Now his tormentors hiss at him; they wag their heads at him as they pass to and fro, and tauntingly call upon him to come down. O distressing sight! Angels turn away from it in sorrow, the sun refuses to shine, and the earth is shrouded in darkness. God witnesses it all, yet does not deliver him. Does he really have a Father’s love, and let his Son endure so much? Yes: “God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son,” that all who believe in him may be adopted into his family and be “called the sons of God.”

How unselfish the love manifested by Jesus in taking upon himself the sins of the world! Many, in looking at this, lose sight of the Father’s love. They seem to think love incompatible with his character as monarch of the world, and picture him as an austere Being, who deals out justice unsparingly and with all the severity of offended Majesty. What a mistake, to thus regard him whose mercy is from everlasting to everlasting.

Dear friend, have you stood by the bedside of an only son, watching the ravages of disease as it preyed upon his frame? It may have been years ago; and yet as you recall the scene how painfully vivid it appears, and how keenly your memory dwells upon the anguish of your heart when you found it impossible to relieve his distress. How anxiously you watched the progress of the disease, till death claimed his victim; and as the eyes became set and glassy, and your darling gasped for breath in his struggles with the monster, you turned from the sight with a sickening sensation, and gloom and despair seemed to settle on all around.

But, you say, I loved him so. He was my only son, and the idol of my heart. Ah! if the mind of finite man is capable of being affected thus at beholding the sufferings and death of a fondly loved son, what must have been the feelings of Jehovah upon beholding his only Son as he suffered and died at the hands of cruel men? Yet the Father, through love to fallen man, endured it all, and became a partner in the suffering caused by the sins of the world.

What more could be done for man’s salvation than has been done? Let your mind range through all the boundless universe, and exhaust its resources in devising plans, and then you will be forced to exclaim that infinite love has already searched out and applied them in that great and wonderful scheme.

O love beyond degree, incomprehensible, infinite! Even Inspiration itself could not speak thy worth, but only say, “Behold, what manner of love.” As we meditate upon the great plan, and realize something of the cost of salvation, we can only cry with the apostle, “Behold,” and wonder that more do not hold up the love of God to the world as a motive of reform.

Do you, my friend, wish to be exalted to that high privilege which has been so dearly purchased for you? God only requires you to appreciate his love, and to love him in return. Do you now feel a yearning for that love in your heart? Lay your past sins on the great Burden-bearer, and resolve that you will no more trample on God’s authority. Then you may hold communion with Heaven, and be called a son of God.