Not I, But Christ

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Nov 12, 1861

Not I, But Christ.

A FEW years ago, while traveling on a railway in Germany, an incident occurred which at the time made a deep impression on my mind. The remembrance of it will remain fresh and vivid to my dying day. I was seated in a third-class carriage, which was filled with Germans. A feeling of loneliness and isolation for a while oppressed me. I tried to amuse myself by listening to the animated conversation of those who sat near me, the language being not quite unfamiliar to my ear. I found that the principal topic that occupied the busy talkers was the Evangelical Alliance, which had met in the city of Berlin. The papers that had been read, and the addresses that had been delivered during the several days of meeting, had evidently awakened a deep interest in the minds of all. The fact that the king and queen of Prussia had attended some of the meetings of the Alliance, and had also shown much personal kindness to its members, by inviting them to the palace of Potsdam, could not fail to add to the eclat of the proceedings, and draw public attention more directly toward them.

Amid the general noise of many voices, and the smoke from many cigars, my attention was specially directed to two men, in a corner of the compartment I occupied, sitting vis-a-vis, engaged in the most earnest conversation on a subject which was plainly deeply interesting to both of them. I listened attentively, and heard that the theme was Christ. I instantly leaned forward, to catch, if possible, every word. I discovered that the principal speaker, an elderly gentleman, was narrating a remarkable change that his views had undergone, in consequence of an address which he had heard at one of the meetings of the Alliance. From this conversation I learned that, up to the time of his hearing that address, he had always regarded himself a sound and honest Christian. He had been regular in his attendance at church, and had paid all respect to the ordinances of religion. He had maintained an outwardly decent and respectable character, and would have taken it highly amiss if any one had suggested doubts about the genuineness of his claim to be regarded as a true Christian. He told his companion how entirely that good opinion he had formerly entertained of himself had been dissipated by the truths he had heard expounded in Berlin. They had forced him to the sorrowful conclusion that all his former good opinions of himself, and of his relation to Christianity, were wholly a delusion.

“But now,” said he, and his beaming eye and quivering voice betokened the warmth of his emotion, “now I have discovered what it is to be a Christian.” Opening his New Testament at the place, he read, with distinctness, and with an emphasis which showed that he understood and felt what he read, these words of the apostle, in the fine old translation of Luther: Ich bin mit Christo gekreuziget; Ich lebe aber; doch nun nicht Ich, sondern Christus lebt in mir.” (“I am crucified in Christ; nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me.” Gal. ii, 20.) “The man who can say that,” he continued, “is a Christian.” He expatiated with great earnestness and warmth on the vast importance of the truth which he had discovered, explaining to his willing hearer all the precious things which lay hid in this, to him, most marvelous text. The warmth and impressive seriousness of his manner, when, in the course of his remarks, he again and again exclaimed, laying at the same time his hand on his heart, “Nicht Ich, sondern Christus lebt in mir” (not I, but Christ liveth in me), deeply moved me, and I could not help saying within myself: “If this stranger has made a great discovery as to the Christian character, so, too, have I.” Familiar with the words he quoted and commented upon, they never appeared to me before so full of meaning, so luminous. The text came upon me with all the freshness and power of a new discovery. No commentary ever written, no critical exposition, however learned, could exhibit it with so much power as did the simple, fervent utterance of my fellow-traveler.

Reader, it is my most fervent prayer that you may be able to enter with me, in some measure, into the deep significance of these words, “I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me.” It is true, as the venerable, warm-hearted German so earnestly pressed upon his companion, that it is not outward conduct that constitutes a Christian. You may attend with regularity and assiduity to the external forms of a religious life, but ah! something greater, far better, than this, is needed, ere you can attain to the blessedness and the dignity of the true Christian. You must have Christ living and reigning in your heart; you must become so entirely identified with him that he will be as the very soul of your soul. Your thoughts, feelings, desires, hopes, must be all as if they had originated with Christ, as if Christ within you were thinking, feeling, desiring, hoping, and not yourself.

“Not I.” Is self, in all its forms, crucified and slain? Through a living faith in Christ, are you so one with him that your heart beats in unison with his? Do you realize the import of his gracious words, “Because I live ye shall live also?” If so, then you are united to him as the branch to the vine, and you will assuredly be found bringing forth the fruits of righteousness, to the praise of his glory.—Prot. Magazine.