The Revelation of Jesus Christ: Chapter 19 - The Church's Little Strength, and the Lord's Great Love (Horatius Bonar, 1808-1889)

 

Revelation 3:8

“I know thy works: behold, I have set before thee an open door, and no man can shut it: for thou hast a little strength, and hast kept my word, and hast not denied my name.”

 It is Christ's gracious character and tender heart that come out so strikingly in these words. How considerate and patient! How gentle and tender in His words and doings! How affectionate and loving towards those whom He might have blamed and condemned! Here is the love that passes knowledge--and here is what the apostle calls 'the meekness and gentleness of Christ.' He bears true witness of Himself when He says, 'I am meek and lowly of heart.' Who would be afraid to deal with such a Savior, or to betake themselves to Him in any circumstances of sin or grief, or emergency or peril?

      Let us hear how the Old Testament prophets spoke of Him and announced His graciousness, as Messiah. He was to be 'a hiding-place from the wind--a covert from the tempest--rivers of water in a dry place--the shadow of a great rock in a weary land' (Isaiah 32:2). He was to 'feed His flock like a shepherd--to gather the lambs with His arm, to carry them in His bosom, to lead gently those that were with young' (Isaiah 40:11). He was not to 'break the bruised reed, nor to quench the smoking flax' (Isaiah 43:3). He was to 'open the blind eyes, to bring out the prisoners from the prison, and those who sit in darkness out of the prison-house--to bring the blind by a way that they knew not' (Isaiah 42:7, 16). He was to 'bind up the broken-hearted, and to proclaim liberty to the captives' (Isaiah 46:1). He was to be 'afflicted in all the affliction of His people, in His love and pity to redeem them, to bear them and carry them' (Isaiah 63:9); He was 'to comfort them as one whom his mother comforts' (Isaiah 66:13).

      Let us see how He unfolded this graciousness, this tenderness, in the days of His flesh. We learn this from His own acts and words; from His affability and accessibility everywhere, and to everybody; from His attractiveness and winningness--His perpetual beneficence to all. What tenderness in His tears over Jerusalem; in his dealing with the woman that was a sinner; in His acting to the widow of Nain and her son; in His weeping at the tomb of Lazarus; in His pity for the daughters of Jerusalem; in His loving the young man who came to Him; in His being moved with compassion for the multitudes; in His treatment of children, both infants and those farther grown--laying his hands on them, taking them in His arms, and saying, 'Of such is the kingdom of heaven!' The Gospels are four portraits in different attitudes--but they all bring out the same tender love.

      It is this tender love that He shows in heaven as well as on earth. It cheered John in Patmos; and it breathes through these seven epistles, and very beautifully in our text. What considerate kindness, patience, and gracious meekness are embodied in these words! There was something wrong in Philadelphia, but He touches on this very slightly and kindly. We might think there was unfaithfulness in such a way of dealing and speaking, but we know not what manner of spirit we are of. Harshness is not faithfulness--strong words are not convincing--still less melting or winning. Let us see here, two things--

      I. Christ's open door. The figure here is probably similar to those expressions in which Paul speaks of 'a door being opened to him of the Lord' (2 Corinthians 2:12); of 'a great and effectual door being opened' (I Corinthians 16:9); of 'God opening a door of utterance' (Colossians 4:3). In one aspect it as the door of service, and labor, and opportunity; in another, it is the door of success, and blessing, and power. It is the door both of service and success. It is an open door, not requiring even to be knocked at, but thrown wide open, that the Philadelphians might enter in at once, and without obstacle.

      Christ, when He comes to men, finds a closed door; so He has to knock; but 'before them' He sets an open door. It is right before them, immediately in front; for this seems the true point of the word. They have not to seek for it; it is not far off nor hidden, but just before them, thus open, by Christ Himself. He who has the key of David has unlocked it and thrown it wide open. Christ with His own hand has opened it, and with His own finger points to it, saying, 'Go in!' Christ has thus two open doors--an open door for salvation, and an open door for service. Go in, He says to every loiterer on the outside; Go in and be saved. See there, just before you is the house of salvation. I have set it before you open, and no one can shut it (either man or devil.) Go in, He says also to each Christian--Go in and work. See, right before you is the door of service. I have set it open, and no man (or rather, 'no one,' whether man or devil) can shut it.

      II. The Church's little strength but true faithfulness. In tenderness and grace He now speaks to commend. 'The Lord is very pitiful and of tender mercy.' Three reasons are given for this consideration and love.

      (1.) You have little strength. It was this Philadelphian feebleness that excited the compassion. Little strength! How tenderly He speaks! Little strength! Therefore you need an open door. You have no power to fight or struggle. Nothing but an open door will do for such little strength. The little strength and the open door suit each other well. He knows our frame, and remembers that we are dust. He pities our feebleness; and because we are 'without strength,' He interposes to help. The less of strength, the more of pity and of help. 'To those who have no might He increases strength.'

      (2.) Yet have kept my word. In spite of feebleness, she had held fast God's word. This may seem a small thing in the eyes of man; not so of God. He lays great stress upon our keeping His word. His word! How God honors it, and those who keep it, even in utter feebleness! Keep my word, however feeble you are, is Christ's message. Let it not go. His 'word,' His 'truth,' His 'promise,' His 'gospel'--these are to be kept!

      (3.) And have not denied my name. This is the least that could be said of any one who had remained faithful at all. It is not, 'You have confessed my name,' but simply, 'You have not denied it.' He accepts the very least. How gracious and pitiful! Do not deny Him! Surely He can ask no less. Love is here condescending to its uttermost. What grace is here! And what encouragement to the feeble and the tried!

      Yes! all this is wondrous, in its exhibition of the tenderness of Christ. How these words should cheer us amid conscious darkness and deep-felt poverty--or in times of spiritual declension!

      Hard and sore is our daily struggle! He sees it and is not angry; but pities, and loves, and helps. He sees us trying to bear up, yet often sinning--fighting, yet often overcome--endeavoring to master our weariness, yet often overmastered by it--laboring, yet often despairing of success--and, as He sees us thus overwhelmed, He pities us most tenderly, and steps in to help. He opens the door--He keeps it open--He cheers us with words of love--He comforts us in our tribulation and supplies us with heavenly cordials in our day of need.

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The Revelation of Jesus Christ: Chapter 18 - The Key of David (Horatius Bonar, 1808-1889)

 

Revelation 3:7

“And to the angel of the church in Philadelphia write; These things saith he that is holy, he that is true, he that hath the key of David, he that openeth, and no man shutteth; and shutteth, and no man openeth;”

 Here is another of Christ's names, or designations, or descriptions given Himself. There are seven in all, and this is the sixth. Let us consider this sixth.

      I. He who is HOLY. Christ's name here is that of 'the high and lofty One, who inhabits eternity, whose name is holy.' He is the holy One of God--hating sin, loving righteousness. Thus, while He is the holy One, He deals in love with the feeble, and makes their enemies to 'know that He loves' (verse 9). With all Christ's infinite tenderness and pity, there is holiness conjoined, and He says, 'Be holy, for I am holy.

      II. He who is TRUE. This is frequently said of Christ--He is 'faithful and true;' the 'true light;' 'the true bread;' the 'true vine;' the 'true witness;' the 'true God.' He is--the reality, the truth, the substance, the wisdom, the filling up of all promises, and of all symbols. All the promises in Him are yes, and in Him Amen. His words are true, His works are true, His ways are true, His invitations are true, His love is true.

      III. He who has the KEY of DAVID. Both as David's Son and David's Lord, He had a right to all that David had. Of David's crown, and throne, and land--He was the rightful heir. But it is only of David's key that He is here spoken of as the possessor. He had the key--the right and the power of opening the gate, and admitting those who had the right of entrance. He could open and no man could shut--this was grace. He could shut and none could open--this was sovereignty. This combined grace and sovereignty which He here proclaims is that which Philadelphia specially needed, for encouragement on the one hand--and for stimulus on the other.

      The reference here is to Isaiah 22:22--'The key of the house of David will I lay upon his shoulder.' This was said to Eliakim, who was thus set up as a type of a greater than himself--a greater than David. Eliakim was royal chamberlain--a keeper of the house, like Joseph in Pharaoh's palace. So Christ is represented as not only being the royal possessor of the house, but He also to whom the keeping of its gate was entrusted. He is 'the door' and He is the 'porter too;' He is the pasture and the Shepherd too. 'All power is given to Him in heaven and in earth.' 'The Father loves the Son, and has committed all things into His hands.' He has, we may say--many keys.

      1. The key of David's HOUSE. The palace is His, and He keeps the key of it, as the Father has given to Him. He opens and shuts according as He will. Would you enter David's house? Apply to Him who has the key. He is the true David, the true Eliakim--He is David's Son and David's Lord.

      2. The key of David's CASTLE. Beside his palace, David had a fort on Zion which he took from the Jebusites--a stronghold against the enemy. So has our David a strong tower and fortress, into which we run and are safe. This is the true 'tower of David, built for an armory.' Would you get into this impregnable fort? Apply to Him who keeps the key. He opens, and no man shuts.

      3. The key of David's CITY. Yes, the key of Jerusalem, both the earthly and the heavenly! 'Open the gates.' 'Lift up your heads, O you gates.' These cries shall be heard, the key shall be applied, and the gates flung open, and the great multitude that no man can number shall enter in. Would you enter in to this glorious city? You must go to Him who has its keys. No application was ever made in vain to Him. No other key but His will open the gate to you.

      4. The key of David's TREASURE-HOUSE. That storehouse contains all we need. The unsearchable riches are here--and David says to us, 'I counsel you to buy of me gold tried in the fire, that you may be rich.' But not riches alone--the bread of heaven is here--the hidden manna is here--the white clothing is here--the royal wine of the kingdom is here. All store of goods of every kind is here. Our David has the key. Would you be rich? Come and get freely all you need--gold, silver, gems, bread, water, wine and milk.

      5. The key of David's BANQUETING-HOUSE. Here the feast is spread--a royal feast; a bridal feast; a divine feast; a feast of fat things! The king brings us into His banqueting-house, and His banner over us is love. He spreads a table for us here in presence of enemies--He will spread it for us before long in the presence of the angels. He says here, Eat, O friends; drink, yes, drink abundantly, O beloved!

      Some have said 'the key of David's harp,' inasmuch as Christ is the theme of the Psalms of David, and they cannot be unlocked without Him. But this sense is strained, though striking. Yet David does sing of Him--'My heart is inditing a good matter. I speak of the things which I have made concerning the King.' Messiah is his theme--his Alpha and Omega--his first and last.

      What comfort (1) to a minister, (2) to a church, (3) to a saint--is the truth that Christ has the keys! The keys of the universe--the keys of every sphere of labor--the keys of life, of death, of the grave! What comfort is the truth that He has power to open and shut, at His own gracious pleasure! All things are in His power. The keys are in pierced hands! They hang upon the cross. Work on, O Philadelphian, with your little strength! He opens great and effectual doors--however many the enemies may be. He opens and none can shut. He shuts and none can open. How blessed when He says, 'I have set before you an open door!' O feeble Philadelphian, labor on. He is with you, and who can be against you? 'I have set before you an open door.'

      There are four tests, which, though not strictly connected with the text, I would hang upon it, as suggested by the key and the door:

      (1.) Knock, and it shall be opened. He who keeps the key of every door is always ready to open--more ready to open than we to knock.

      (2.) The doors of it shall not be shut at all by day, and there is no night there. An ever-open door! Sometimes it is said knock, and sometimes you don't need to knock--for it is open. Just enter in--enter at once--enter in as you are.

      (3.) The door was shut. Yes, shut at last! Then knocking is too late. For when He shuts, no man can open. Oh, that eternally shut gate! How dismal to those who, all their lifetime, saw it open, but would not go in! They might have gone in, but would not. This is their condemnation, and their eternal sorrow.

      (4.) Behold, I stand at the door and knock. It is not merely we standing at Christ's door--but Christ standing at ours! As if He would say to us, Take the key--open and let me in. Shall Christ's knock be in vain? It is the knock of love, earnest, patient, condescending love. He really desires admittance. His knocking is no pretense. He wants to make our souls His dwelling. Admit Him, and be blessed!

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The Revelation of Jesus Christ: Chapter 17 - The Fullness of the Holy Spirit (Horatius Bonar, 1808-1889)

 

Revelation 3:1

“And unto the angel of the church in Sardis write; These things saith he that hath the seven Spirits of God, and the seven stars; I know thy works, that thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead.”

Revelation 4:5

“And out of the throne proceeded lightnings and thunderings and voices: and there were seven lamps of fire burning before the throne, which are the seven Spirits of God.”

Revelation 4:5

“And out of the throne proceeded lightnings and thunderings and voices: and there were seven lamps of fire burning before the throne, which are the seven Spirits of God.”

  'The love of the Spirit' (Romans 15:30) is too apt to be forgotten by us. We believe the Father's love, the Son's love--but do we as really believe the love of the Holy Spirit? 'God is love;' and that means that the Father is love, that the Son is love, and that the Spirit is love.

      It was this loving Spirit who anointed the Son of God that He might preach the gospel to the poor. It was in the power of this loving Spirit that He wrought His miracles of grace and spoke His words of grace. It was 'through the eternal Spirit that He offered Himself without spot to God' (Hebrews 9:14) for us. And this 'anointing' or 'unction' presents Him to us under that character by which He was all along symbolized in the Old Testament--'the holy anointing oil.'

      In this Book of Revelation it is as a lamp or 'lamps of fire' that He is made known to us--not the oil, but the lamp itself. He is both--He feeds the light in us, and He is Himself the light. Here we are (though not directly) taught much about this Spirit--as the Spirit of light, and love, and holiness--His personality, His vital agency, His divine and manifold fullness. Seven times over are these words made to fall upon our ears--'He who has ears to hear, let him hear what the Spirit says unto the churches,' as if the words of this book were His, as truly as they are those of Christ.

      We have much to do with the Holy Spirit--for what would the Bible be without Him? What would we know of Christ without Him? A religion without the Spirit is wholly vain and unprofitable--like a sapless tree, a well without water, a vessel without oil.

      Let us mark the characteristics, as given us in the Revelation, in connection with the emblems.

      I. Light. The lamps of fire are emblems of His illuminating character and office. All true enlightenment comes from Him. As truly as Christ is the light of the world, so is the Spirit--the former more outward, the latter more inward. When fire is mentioned, it is generally in connection with the shekinah-glory; and, as was the fiery pillar of Israel, so are these lamps of fire to the Church. The saint needs light; the Church needs light; the world needs light. From the Spirit comes the light. It is sanctuary light, temple light, light from the seven-branched lamp, or seven lamps which give light to the holy place.

      II. Power. The seven horns represent Him. Power is with Him; divine power; omnipotence. It is power for defense, for attack, for victory over enemies. He is the spirit of power. As such He does His works in us, and enables us to do the work of God. In our conflicts, labors, sufferings, 'fightings without,' and 'fears within,' we have the Almighty Spirit on our side, helping our infirmities.

      III. Wisdom. The seven eyes are the emblem of His omniscience. His eyes are everywhere. He sees us through and through. And He comes in to us as the Spirit of wisdom. The four living ones are represented as full of eyes before and behind, implying the fullness of the all-seeing Spirit, as if they were thus 'partakers of the divine nature.' As the Spirit of wisdom rested on Christ, so His wisdom rests on us--for out of His fullness we receive. Wisdom comes to us, not directly, but from and through Him. We were blind, now we see; we see afar off, within the veil, the things which eye has not seen.

      IV. Spirituality. They are called Spirits--invisible, yet real; not corporeal, yet real; something which may dwell in us, and influence us--unseen, unheard, unfelt. Spirits, yet not shadows; spirits, yet infinitely personal and real.

      V. Completeness. Seven is the 'number of perfection' in Scripture. It is the complete and perfect Spirit who is represented--without defect or weakness; altogether full; full in light, and wisdom, and power. That fullness is divine, not human or finite; the fullness of God; fullness without measure or end; fullness which was completely realized only in Christ, but in us according to our measure.

      VI. Variety. This is also indicated by seven. Not mere fullness; but fullness in variety--variety in fullness. Not the uniform fullness of the unvaried sea, but the fullness of the varied earth and sky; all different parts connected together, and making up that wondrous perfection which mere unvarying infinity could not exhibit. The Spirit, with His manifold gifts and graces, is thus represented--the varied perfection of his gifts, as well as the varied glory of His person; a glory like that of light, whose perfection of whiteness is the result of variety in color. These seven Spirits are what we need, to meet the varying cases and characters of the saints.

      VII. Universality. These lamps of fire burn before the throne. As (when the veil was rent) the seven-branched candlestick would appear to be standing before the mercy-seat, so these lamps of fire are seen burning before the throne of God and of the Lamb. They are thus connected with the throne, yet they shed their light far and near over creation. The seven Spirits of God are sent forth into all the earth. They go out beyond the temple, beyond Israel's land; into all the earth; to the nations afar off--'every nation and kindred.' They are sent forth from the throne as royal messengers, to do the work of Him who sits upon the throne, as Christ speaks of the Spirit; 'the Comforter whom the Father shall send in my name.' As Christ was the sent of the Father, and also of the Spirit, so the Spirit is sent of the Father and of Christ. He is connected with 'the throne,' and He is connected with 'the Lamb.' He goes forth to testify of Him, to glorify Him, to reveal Him to the sons of men. This is the work which He is doing now, in a measure, and which, in the coming age, He will do more largely, filling the whole earth with the light of the glory of Immanuel.

      Into all the earth He goes, far as 'the gospel' itself, revealing to men that 'gospel,' and revealing that cross of which it brings the 'good news.' For all the Spirit's work gathers round the Lord Jesus, unfolding the divine testimony to His blood, and overcoming the resistance of the sinner's heart, that he may believe that testimony, and be saved.

      Into all the earth he goes, raising the dead, illuminating the dark, guiding the perplexed, leading back the wanderer to the fold. To the very ends of the earth these seven lamps are shining. Through them the darkness of the earth has been preserved from being total; through them, here and there bright lights kindled, in some measure dispelling the thick gloom that covers the human race. It is this Spirit that men are quenching. And when He is quenched, and the one Light departs--what will the darkness of the human spirit be! He will not always strive. He may even now be near departing. The long ages of His love may be near an end. O world! Your day of darkness is coming; darkness that may be felt; prelude of the blackness of darkness forever.

      O Church of God! Grieve not this Spirit--quench not these lamps of fire. Bid Him welcome with all His gifts, to make you in these last days what you were when first He came down in His divine fullness, and wrought a work in you, and through you, such as amazed, and terrified, and enraged a world, until men in every city rose up, and with weapons of persecution sought to extinguish the new-kindled flame, as too bright for them to bear.

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The Revelation of Jesus Christ: Chapter 16 - The Morning Star (Horatius Bonar, 1808-1889)

 

Revelation 2:28

“And I will give him the morning star.”

  He who speaks in Jesus Himself. He spoke to His Asian Churches once--He speaks to us now. He speaks directly--He speaks from heaven. 'I, Jesus, have sent;' and again, 'Behold, I come.' He is the speaker of these sure words of prophecy--'He who hat an ear, let him hear!'

      He speaks as a promiser. It is to something future that He points the eye of His Churches--the things 'not seen,' the 'things hoped for,' in their sevenfold fullness and glory. His discourses on earth referred to these futurities in a very general way--and often not at all. The two great futurities of which He then spoke were, (1) the Holy Spirit, as the promise of the Father; and (2) His own return. Here His promises all pertain to the glory. He takes these things for granted, and proceeds to speak of others.

      He speaks a giver. 'I will give.' He has been a giver from the first. He was Himself the Father's gift, and He is the depositary of all gifts for us, present or future. All is gift--even the rewards are gifts, not wages. For wages are measured by bargain, or desert, or profit--but these gifts are beyond all measure and desert!

      He speaks to the overcomers. Though the gifts are not wages, yet they depend on our winning a battle. They are something beyond mere salvation. In believing we are saved; but there is something more than this held out to us--and that something is the reward to the fighters of the good fight. You say, 'I believe.' It is well; but is that all? No! it is but the first step. The battle now begins--and to cheer you on, the prize is hung out to view. You are not to fight for nothing. Your Captain, who leads you to victory, will share His spoils with you. He will lavish the whole treasury of His gifts upon His faithful soldiers. What will He not give of glory and honor and blessedness in His kingdom forever?

      He speaks of the MORNING STAR. This is His promised gift, and a very glorious one it is. Let us inquire about this 'star of the morning'.

      (1) What is NATURALLY. It is not any star that appears in the morning, but one--one 'bright particular star'--a star to which the special name belongs; a star which, above all others, is known for its splendor, and is connected with the departure of the night and the arrival of the day. It is the fairest and brightest of the bright and fair; especially as it is seen rising over the Mount of Olives. It says, Night is done--day is coming--the sun is about to rise.

      (2) What is SYMBOLICALLY. Christ Jesus--He is the Star. 'I am the bright and morning star' (22:16). He is the giver and the gift; as if He said, 'I will give him myself as the morning star.' In Him all that is comprised in the idea of morning star is found and displayed. He says--Night is just at an end; day is about to dawn; the sun is about to rise. Forerunner of day--yet also day itself. Sun of righteousness--yet also morning star. Bright and fair to look upon; attractive and glorious; joy of the traveler, or the sailor, or the night-watchman. He is the Star of Jacob; the glory, not of Israel only--but of the earth.

      (3) What it is PROPHETICALLY. We get Christ, in believing, just now, but we do not get Him as the 'morning-star'. That is yet to come. His 'unsearchable riches' are yet to be unfolded. The day of the bringing forth of the gems and glory is yet future. It is the day of His second coming. Then it is that He rises on our world as the morning star. There are three periods to which Scripture points our eye--

      (1) the present, which it calls night, during which we get Christ as our light personally, and in that light the earnest of the future glory. 'I am the light of the world--he who believes on me shall not walk in darkness.'

      (2) the millennial period, which ends the night, and which is not yet full day. 'Joy comes in the morning.' This is the period of the morning star; the second coming; the first resurrection; the deliverance of creation; the restoration of Israel, and the kingdom of the saints. It is to this that the promise here refers, 'I will give him the morning-star;' and it corresponds with the 20th of the Revelation, 'Blessed and holy is he who has part in the first resurrection.' It is something very bright and glorious, yet not perfect--intermediate between night and noon.

      (3) The eternal state. There the full sun shines in its noonday glory. All is perfection; every trace of the curse is wiped away; every cloud and mist pass off; the new heavens and the new earth are manifested in their perfect glory.

      1. Seek to be sons of the morning. In one aspect this is identical with being children of light and day. But it expresses more. Such have their special portion in the glory and freshness of the dawn. They catch the first ray of coming sunshine. The world's night will soon be done--and all whose portion is in it shall perish with it. But the morning comes! Let us seek our portion there, and, seeking it, be conformed to the glory which is then to be revealed. Live, and act, and walk--as sons of morning. Let the world recognize you as such. Let there be rays of dawn seen upon you.

      2. Live upon your future eternal prospects. The 'things hoped for' are the Christian man's prospects--prospects in which there is no uncertainty, and over which there hangs no cloud. Look at them; study them; keep them constantly before your mind. Fix your eye upon the morning-star. Draw strength, joy, comfort, vigor, out of them. They are meant to yield all these.

      3. Live up to your future eternal prospects. They are very bright, unspeakably glorious--live accordingly. Live worthy of your hope. Aim high. Set your affections on things above. Be not conformed to this world. Take up a high and true position. Forget the things behind; reach forward to that which is before. Press toward the mark. Be molded by these blessed hopes. Think of the morning, and the morning star--keep separate from the night, and the men of the night--and the things of the night.

      4. Seek to make other partakers of your future eternal prospects. Say to all you meet with, Will you go with us? We are traveling eastward to the land of the morning; for we are children of the morning--will you not cast in your lot with us? Pity a dark world, and its dark children--who have no hope and no morning before them. Point out the morning-star to them; bid them look at it; tell them what its anticipated brightness has done for you. Win souls to Christ. Draw many into the kingdom by your words and by your walk. There is little time to lose; for the coming of the Lord draws near!

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The Revelation of Jesus Christ: Chapter 15 - The Divine Food of Our Heavenly Life (Horatius Bonar, 1808-1889)

 

Revelation 2:17

“He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches; To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna, and will give him a white stone, and in the stone a new name written, which no man knoweth saving he that receiveth it.”

 The angel of the Church in Pergamos is both commended and reproved. Not a little of evil, of laxity, of unsound doctrine, was found in that Church; yet not a little of steadfastness and martyr-boldness for Christ. She is rebuked, she is warned, she is encouraged; and she gets a glorious promise--of the hidden manna, of the white stone, and of the new name. It is to the first of these that we would now look--the manna 'hidden,' or 'treasured up'--as the reward of the conqueror; for these seven rewards are specially to 'him who overcomes.' As believers, we get eternal life; as warriors and conquerors, we get special rewards--the rewards of victory from our mighty Captain. For true religion is not a thing of ease, and luxury, and comfort; but of conflict, and effort, and wrestling. He who knows it only as the former, and not as the latter, ought to conclude that he does not know it at all. It is not for parade, or show, or a name, that Christ enlists His soldiers, but for stern battle, for hard toil, for wounds and pain, and continual facing of the enemy.

      I. The MANNA. The manna was wilderness-food--in connection with tent-life, water from the rock, and the journeyings of pilgrimage. Israel had not known it previously--they asked what it was. It was connected with the desert, but it did not grow there. It came down from heaven; it was 'angels' food;' the 'bread of the mighty.' It sustained Israel, but did not make them immortal; it was simply food for the body given them daily by God--until they reached Canaan. Let us keep these things in mind, for the manna of which our text speaks is in several aspects a contrast to all these.

      II. The HIDDEN manna. The word 'hidden' does not so much refer to a thing secreted or concealed, as to a thing carefully treasured up and preserved, like a precious gem--as when it is said, 'Your life is hidden with Christ in God.'

      This hidden manna is evidently Christ Himself, or something directly coming from Him, and connected with Him. Christ, as the heavenly food of our glorified being, may be said to be the hidden manna--just as He is the tree of life, and the morning star. Christ, as risen and glorified--Christ in certain peculiar aspects and relations connected with the future glory--is the hidden manna. Not simply Christ--for even here we feed on Him as the bread of life; we eat His flesh, and drink His blood; our daily hunger is satisfied with Him--but Christ, as connected with the holy of holies--the immediate presence and bosom of the Father.

      The word 'hidden' refers to the golden pot of manna which was preserved in the ark, under the mercy-seat, along with Aaron's rod and the tables of the covenant. The manna was taken from off the sands of the desert, put into an urn, and placed, for all ages, in the holy of holies, in remembrance of the desert food, and as a type of something better yet to be revealed.

      This 'hidden manna' was both like and unlike the manna of the wilderness--it was connected with it, yet also separate. It was of heaven originally (John 6:31); it came down to earth; it was taken into the holiest of all, the emblem of the heaven of heavens; and thus was both of earth and heaven. It was of the wilderness, yet not in it. It was originally corruptible, yet made incorruptible; once a daily gift, spread over all the sand of the desert, now gathered into one small vessel, and laid up there once for all. It was in the ark, covered with the blood, beneath the cherubim and the glory; food that could only be reached through blood, and could only be for those whom blood had redeemed. Man had eaten 'angels food'--but now this had become the food of men--not only of men here, in weakness and wandering--but of the glorified in the New Jerusalem.

      This hidden manna is (in conjunction with the tree of life) the special food of the redeemed; the nourishment of the new and glorified life, both of body and soul. It is set down on the great banquet table, in the high banquet hall. As in the upper-room in Jerusalem Jesus said, 'Take, eat, this is my body, broken for you,' so in like manner will He take the hidden manna, and present it to His own as their special food; and if the 'Take, eat,' from His lips below be so loving and precious, what will it be in the Jerusalem above--'Take, eat, this is my glorified self!'' And if that which symbolizes His death be so sweet and nourishing, what will that be which symbolizes His endless life! Then we shall fully know what the apostle meant when he said, 'We are saved by His life' (Romans 5:10). The bread of the Lord's Supper speaks of death, speaks of death--the hidden manna of life only. The one speaks of shame and humiliation--the other of glory and immortality.

      This hidden manna is food for the kingdom--the kingdom of the risen and the glorified. It is Christ's resurrection-life, for those who are partakers of His resurrection. It is the food of the royal priesthood--the food of the conquerors--food that reminds them of their desert weariness, and hunger, and warfare, yet food which assures them that they shall hunger no more, but shall feed on that which is immortal, incorruptible, and divine.

      It is food for eternity--everlasting nourishment. And all out of the one golden pot, the one Christ--the glorified Immanuel. That one golden pot is like the widow's cruse and barrel--it fails not. It will suffice for that multitude which no man can number, and it will suffice forever! Like the one tree of life, so this one pot of manna will supply millions eternally. Out of it we shall feed--out of Christ's glorified fullness we shall be nourished. Our life is hidden with Him in God; for it pleased the Father that in Him should all fullness dwell. 'The Lamb who is in the midst of the throne shall feed them'--and feed them on Himself.

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The Revelation of Jesus Christ: Chapter 14 - Paradise and the Tree of Life (Horatius Bonar, 1808-1889)

 

Revelation 2:7

“He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches; To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the tree of life, which is in the midst of the paradise of God.”

 The promise here is to the Ephesian conqueror. It is the first of the seven promises, and, like the rest, very glorious--carrying us on to the return of the second Adam, and to paradise regained. It comes from Him who holds the seven stars in His right hand, and walks in the midst of the seven golden candlesticks. Here, as in several other places, Christ is at once the promiser, the promise, and the thing promised.

      Of the promise He is the center and its circumference, its body and its soul, its first and its last, the yes and the amen, the eternal yes and the eternal amen. It is out of His varied fullness that the promise is composed, and in each we are presented with some portion of His exceeding riches, His boundless excellency. Christ Himself--in closest intimacy, in most endearing fellowship, in fullest love, and in brightest glory--is presented to us. The rewards connected with the kingdom and the throne are glorious, and in these there are vast and various differences and degrees; but the rewards which hold out Christ Himself to us as our possession are more glorious still, and in these there are equally varying degrees--to some being given more, to others less, of Him and His riches--some being brought nearer Him than others--brought into the very bosom of Him who is in the bosom of the Father!

      Ephesus was once a noble Church, and the Epistle to the Ephesians shows us how high in spirituality she stood at first. But she had left her first love, and come down very low. She did run well, but had been hindered. Her lamp was low and dim. Her Lord was troubled about her declension, and gently upbraids her because of it. Yet He is far from throwing her off. He speaks lovingly, and holds up the reward before her eyes, to incite her to rouse herself and return to her early love. He woos her still--that He may win back her wavering love.

      One balancing feature in her character is her 'hatred of the deeds of the Nicolaitanes, which, the Lord adds, 'I also hate' (verse 6). Hatred of evil--hatred of false doctrine (verse 15)--these are things which the Lord looks for in His Churches. Indifference to error, tolerance of evil, smoothing down the ridge between true and false teaching, whether by the press or the pulpit--these are things very common in our day, as proofs of liberality and large-mindedness. But the Lord says, 'these things I hate.' To be 'broad' and 'wide' is the universal boast; to be 'narrow' and 'strait' the worst of reproaches--as if 'broad' and 'wide' were not the words of the Mater's condemnation--as if He had not been said, 'Enter in at the strait gate--for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leads to death; and strait is the gate, and narrow the way, leads to life.'

      Awake, you who sleep! Oh, Ephesian backslider, arise and shine, for your light has come! You are not yet a castaway. See from whence you have fallen, what is your present low estate; see especially the bright recompense which may yet be yours, and let these things quicken you. Up, shake yourself from the dust; gird on your sword; put on the whole armor of God; fight the good fight--it is not too late, even yet you may overcome! The tree of life, which is in the midst of the paradise of God, may still be yours! For such a blessedness and brightness, who would not fight and suffer--and deny self--and toil to the end?

      1. Entrance into the paradise of God. The 'heavenly' is the pattern of the 'earthly' in all things. The model of earth, and all that is good on earth--is to be found in heaven. Adam's paradise below was but the image and shadow of the paradise above, as the tabernacle in the wilderness was but the 'example' or image of the better tabernacle above, showed to Moses on the mount. From the lower paradise (or garden) man was cast out, and it is into the upper paradise that he is brought. He gets the earthly back again, or the new earth--but he gets far more; he gets the heavenly as well as the earthly. 'Paradise regained' is his; and in addition to it the paradise of God. From both was man shut out. Both were barred against the sinner. The flaming sword confronted each child of Adam, and forbade his entrance. Sin made him an outcast, an exile, a condemned man--with no home but the waste howling wilderness, the land of darkness.

      'So He drove out the man' was the doom not of one--but of all. Expulsion from the presence and the paradise of God and from the tree of life was the sentence. We all went out of paradise with the first Adam, and became, like him, banished men. The second Adam entered in for us, and took possession of it in our name. He quenched the flaming sword; He sprinkled these heavenly places and heavenly things with His own blood (Hebrews 9:23), so that now the entrance lies open for the sinner. In believing, we get the title to all this just now; and as those who have believed and overcome, we shall enter in hereafter. Entrance into the paradise of God, through Him who is the gate, is the reward of the overcomer.

      No slumber, then, no ease, no sheathed swords at present! Forward is our battle-word. Forward to the celestial city, to the paradise of God, 'that so an entrance may be opened to us abundantly' (2 Peter 1:2) into this everlasting glory. 'Today shall you be with me in paradise' may not be the promise; but it will not be long, for He who shall come will come, and will not delay.

      2. Access to the tree of life. In that paradise is the tree of life; and the promise is of free access to it, the reverse of that refusal to man of access to the earthly tree (Genesis 3:22-23). Free entrance, free access, and free liberty to eat of the tree of life.

      Everything connected with life is comprised in Jesus Christ--'In Him was life; and the life was the light of men' (John 1:4). He is the bread of life; the water of life; He is life itself; He is 'eternal life' (1 John 5:20). The tree of life may or may not be an actual tree; but whether figurative or real, it represents Christ Himself, or something connected with Him, as the food of our immortal life, of our risen and glorified life.

      Just as He says, 'I will give him the morning star' (that is, I will give him myself in the character of the morning star), so here He means, I will give him myself as the nourishment of his glorified being, and this in such a near and full way as he cannot have on earth. Christ, as the tree of life, the food of the new life, the glorified life, is to be given to the conqueror in a special way, such as even faith cannot conceive of here. There will be different degrees of glory, and knowledge, and love--different degrees of intimacy and fellowship with the Lord Jesus. He shall bring us into His banqueting house in a new way then--under His shadow we shall sit down with great delight, and His fruit shall be sweet to our taste.

      Ezekiel's tree of life, and gushing stream, represent the earthly blessedness restored (more than restored), as in Adam's paradise. John' tree of life and crystal river represent the heavenly splendor and gladness; for the glory of the celestial is one, and the glory of the terrestrial is another--both of them together making up the heritage of the redeemed. 'Blessed are those who keep His commandments' (or 'have washed their robe') 'that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city' (Revelation 22:14).

      The prospect of such things is greatly influential upon us here. It tells on our daily life. It quickens us, it nerves us, it purified us, it comforts us, it makes us brave and resolute.

      Nor is that prospect separate from the cross of Christ in which we glory here. That tree of life represents the fullness of a dying, risen, and glorified Christ. It is what it is for life and nourishment, by reason of its connection with the great atonement; so that even in the kingdom we shall eat of that of which atonement has been made--priestly or sacrificial bread--bread which is connected with blood, and has passed through the fire--that flesh which is meat indeed, and that blood which is drink indeed (Exodus 29:33).

      The garden of Gethsemane and eternal Paradise can never be far asunder. They are inseparably linked to each other. The tree of death and the tree of life are after all but one; the glory of the latter can never be disjoined from the shame of the former.

      As we fell in the first Adam--we rose in the second. No more. Not only shall we have restoration of all that the first Adam lost, but partnership in all that the second Adam has won; in all that He has and is. As one with Him, as represented by Him, we enter into the second paradise, and eat of the tree of life; not only unbarred--but welcomed; as the very tree to which we are entitled as conquerors--Ephesian conquerors--in a Church of Ephesian backsliders. For beauty, for food, for shade, for health, is that tree renowned! And all these we shall share with Him in whom, and by whom we are introduced into the garden, and made welcome to the heavenly fruit.

      And does not this tree send out its invitation to all the sons of the first Adam? Does it not bid welcome to all? 'Whoever will' is the invitation to the water of life; 'whoever' is the equally wide invitation to the tree of life.

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The Revelation of Jesus Christ: Chapter 13 - First Love Left (Horatius Bonar, 1808-1889)

 

Revelation 2:4

“Nevertheless I have somewhat against thee, because thou hast left thy first love.”

There are some words which smite like a hammer, or cleave like a thunderbolt--words of mere power and terror--words like those which broke forth in fire from Sinai. But the words of our text are words which drop as the rain, and distill as the dew; words which pierce, yet soften; which rouse, yet soothe; which wound, yet bind up; which combine the biting north wind and the healing south wind. Such are these. They are not the earthquake nor the fire nor the whirlwind, but the still small voice; more resistless than all these together; mingling the rebuke and the consolation; the severity and the love; the father's rod and the mother's tears.

      There are words which lead you away from the speaker, and absorb you in themselves. The words of our text are not such. There are others which carry you wholly past themselves to the speaker. Neither are the words of our text such. There are yet other words which divide you between themselves and the speaker, or rather which so engross your whole person with both, that you feel yourself passing continually from the one to the other, as if the eye could not be satisfied with seeing, nor the ear with hearing. Such are the words of our text. You have both the picture and the artist, the poem and the poet, so interwoven, that each recalls the other; no, each is seen and heard in the other.

      No sooner do we hear these words of the Son of God--so searching, so alarming--than we are carried up to Him who uttered them, and our souls are absorbed in the mingled majesty and grace of the only-begotten of the Father; and while they send us down into the depths, to learn one of the most humbling lessons that was ever taught concerning the weakness, the fickleness, the faithfulness--of a Christian's heart, they carry us upward irresistibly, far above all heavens, to gaze upon the surpassing glory and meditate on the matchless love of Him who died for us, and who rose again!

      The words are those of complaint; some would call it fault finding; and, as such, might have repelled us from the complainer. But such is the nature and tone of the complaint, that we feel attracted, not repelled; humbled, but not hurt nor affronted; made to blush, and yet not chilled nor estranged--no, rather drawn more closely to a friend so affectionate and faithful. The reproof is keen, yet it casts no shadow on the grace of the reprover--rather does it magnify that grace into sevenfold brightness, by embodying in the admonition an utterance of the most generous, the most profound, yet, as we may call it, the most sorrowful affection that the world has ever seen!

      Next in tenderness to the tears shed over Jerusalem by the Son of God in the days of His flesh, is this outflow of 'disappointed love' over the estrangement of Ephesus, given vent to upon His throne above. It is not weeping. No! that cannot be, now when from His face all tears have been forever wiped away! But it is akin to this--it is the nearest thing to it that we can imagine--it is that which would have been tears anywhere else than in the heaven of heavens.

      But the preface to the complaint claims special notice; for that complaint does not stand alone--it is a gem set in fine gold, and the verse which introduce it are as marvelous as itself. And what strikes us most in it, is the minute enumeration of services performed by this church, as if the speaker were most unwilling to come to the matter of complaint, to touch the jarring string; being desirous of recounting all the good deeds and faithful services of the church before He speak the words of censure. 'I know your works and your labor, and your patient endurance, and how you cannot bear those who are evil--and you have tried those who say they are apostles, and are not, and have found them liars--and have borne, and have patience, and for my name's sake have labored, and have not fainted.'

      What an introduction to the 'Nevertheless I have somewhat against you, because you have left your first love!' How fitted to disarm all risings of anger; to anticipate and smooth down the offence-taking that might have been stirred; to make Ephesus feel that He who was complaining was complaining in love, not exaggerating the evil, but much more disposed to dwell upon the good; that He was no austere man, no hard master, no censorious fault-finder--but loving and generous, possessed to the uttermost of that love which is "patient and kind; which seeks not her own, is not easily provoked, thinks no evil; rejoices not in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things, and never fails."

      But it is not the mere recital of His servant's good deeds that so strikes us--it is His manifest appreciation of these, His delight in them, His grateful sense of the service rendered. Faults there would be in these labors--but He sees none. Imperfections in the endurances of trial--but He makes mention of none. He speaks as one full of gratitude for favors conferred. He weighs the works, and finds them not lacking. He names His servant's name, and is not ashamed to confess him. He points not merely to the cup of cold water--but to the toil and the testimony and the faithful discipline--commending them, rejoicing in them, thanking His servant for them.

      And not until He has done all this, and shown how well He remembers and appreciates each act of happy service, does He come in with the complaint, 'Nevertheless I have somewhat against you, because you have left your first love.' What tenderness, what delicacy, what nobleness of love, what divine courtesy--is here! What an honor is put upon our poor doings and endurings for Him, when they are thus so gratefully recounted and so generously commended by the Son of God! What an importance, what a dignity, what a value, is thus affixed to every act, even of the simplest, commonest service for Him!

      But our text goes beyond all this. It teaches us His desire for our love, and His disappointment at losing it, or any part of it. It is not so much our labor as our love that He asks; and with nothing less than love can He be satisfied. As God, He claims it; as man, He desires it; as the God-man, He presents to us this mingled claim and longing for love, as that without which He is robbed of His desire and His due. He has not left His real humanity behind Him here in the tomb. He has carried up into heaven His true human heart--with its yearning affections and cravings for love. Neither the Godhead to which that humanity is united, nor His high throne at the Father's right hand, has in the least altered that humanity, or made it less susceptible to love and fellowship. And it is this unchanged and unchangeable manhood that is giving vent to itself in the tender admonition of our test--'You have left they first love.'

      It is the language of wounded friendship, complaining of undeserved estrangement. It is the utterance of unrequited love, mourning over the loss of an affection which was better than life. He wants not merely to love--but to be loved. He seemed to have found this at Ephesus--that noble church for which the apostle prayed that it might be rooted and grounded in love, and might know the love that passes knowledge. But the kindness of their youth, the love of their espousals, had passed away. The star grew dim, the flower faded, warm love had cooled, and the Ephesus of the second generation was not the Ephesus of the first. Over this 'lost first love' He mourns, as the gem which of all others He prized the most. And the voice which we hear, sounds like that of Rachel in Ramah weeping for her children, and refusing to be comforted, because they are not.

      It is not slothful service, or waning zeal, or failing liberality, or slackening warfare, that He complains. His remonstrance rather assumes the existence of much Christian fruitfulness; and even though there had been some failure in labor or endurance, that might have been more easily remedied; nor were these such a necessity to Him who fills all in all. But it is over lost love that He laments; lost love, for which there can be no compensation and no substitute, even to Him; lost love, which cuts so keenly even into the callous heart of man, and leaves such lifelong blanks even in common and inferior souls.

      Yet it is not love altogether lost; nor love turned into hatred.

      The failure has not got so far as this, nor descended to such a depth. It is of ebbing love He speaks, not love wholly dried up; it is love that has lost the freshness and the edge of other days; love that has sunk below the temperature at which it once stood. This is the substance of the complaint, the burden of His disappointment--the loss of half a heart! So that it would almost seem as if the total drying up would have been more endurable than this ebbing; as if the entire withholding would have been less painful than the stinted giving; as if complete and downright cessation would have been, as in the case of Laodicea, so in that of Ephesus, less hateful than this diminishing, this declining to a lower range of feeling, this grudging gift of a divided heart where once there was entire love.

      Strange that the risen Christ, the ascended King, should feel so much the loss of creature-love; that He should be, as one may say, so dependent on our affection; that He should treat this failure not so much as an affront or a crime, but as a wound and a slight; that He should be touched with the alienation of 'half a heart', and speak of it as a bereavement and a sorrow! Oh, what must be His estimate of love; what must be the value of our love to Him; and what is the honor put on us by a condescension so amazing as this!

      A complaint like this coming from any quarter is deeply touching. The wife has ceased to love the husband; the husband has ceased to love the wife; the brother has ceased to love the brother or the sister; the friend has ceased to love the friend--these are complaints which we recognize as real among ourselves, seeing we are so dependent for happiness upon each other's love.

      But that a complaint like this should come down from heaven--from Him who has the Father's love and all the love of angels; from Him to whom they sing, in their everlasting songs, 'Blessing and honor and glory and power;' to whom they ascribe 'riches and wisdom and strength,'--is far more profoundly affecting, and appeals to every noble and tender feeling of our nature with irresistible potency. What true hearted man but must be humbled and melted down beneath it?

      Why should He love so much--and I so little? Why should He love so truly, so constantly, so warmly--and I return Him nothing but fickleness and insincerity and coldness? Why should He be so concerned about my love, and I so careless about His? Is my love so precious--and His so worthless? Where but in His own infinitely loving and loveable nature can I find a reason for a difference so strange? How marvelous, and how affecting, to hear Him mourn over the 'changed affection' of one of the least of His saints on earth, and to hear Him say, 'I have somewhat against you, because you have left your first love?'

      What should move Him to desire my love--and to grieve when it is withheld--or when given for a time, and then withdrawn? Has He not love enough in heaven? That 'one pulse in the universe' should beat more feebly--what should that be to the infinite heart above? He who rules that empire on which the sun never sets, need not trouble himself though one worthless subject should renounce allegiance. The ocean does not miss the exhaled drop, nor the forest the faded leaf, nor the sun one wandering ray. Why, then, should He who is King of kings and Lord of lords care so much about the waning love of Ephesus--the loss of the one half of a human heart? Yes! Why should He? Why but because He is love; and because His thoughts are not our thoughts, nor His ways our ways.

      He who could utter a complaint like this, and utter it with such manifest sincerity and earnestness, yet with such gentleness and delicacy of tone and word--must be one of whom we cannot know too much. 'I have somewhat against you, because you have left your first love,' are the words which embody as precious a revelation of the mind of the ascended Christ as the more explicit announcement--'Unto Him who loved us, and washed us from our sins in His own blood'--and do they not wonderfully teach us the deep meaning of the old words of the Song of Songs--"Place me like a seal over your heart, or like a seal on your arm. For love is as strong as death, and its jealousy is as enduring as the grave. Love flashes like fire, the brightest kind of flame. Many waters cannot quench love; neither can rivers drown it. If a man tried to buy love with everything he owned, his offer would be utterly despised." (Song 8:6-7)

      It was as one who knew both his own heart, and the heart of Him who was claiming it, that old John Berridge wrote these memorable words--"Oh heart, heart, what are you? A mass of fooleries and absurdities! The vainest, foolishest, craftiest, wickedest thing in nature! And yet the Lord Jesus asks me for this heart, woos me for it, died to win it. O incredible love! Adorable condescension! O take it, Lord, and let it be forever closed to all but You!"

      But let us follow out a little further this divine rebuke--this touching remonstrance--

      "You have left your first love!"--And for what reason? Did the coldness begin on my side or on yours? Have I been to you a wilderness or a land of darkness? What iniquity or unkindness have you found in me, to justify your change? Can you point to one word or deed of mine as an excuse for the withdrawal of your heart? Have I become less lovable, less loving?

      "You have left your first love!"--And what or whom have you substituted? Has your power of loving ceased, and your heart become contracted? Or is there some 'second love' that has usurped the place of the first? Is it the WORLD that has thus come in? Is it pleasure? Is it literature or science? Is it business? Is it politics? Is it the creature in some of its various forms, and with the seductive glitter of its many-faceted beauty? What, oh what, is the equivalent for a lost first love? And is there in this new, this second love--a satisfying substitute, a sufficient compensation to your soul for a loss so infinite? To one who has looked upon 'Jerusalem', what is there in Egypt or Babylon, in Rome or in Athens, to admire? To one who has got a glimpse of the heavenly Jerusalem, what is there in all the splendor of earth to attract or satisfy? He whose eyes have seen the King in His beauty (if ever he lowers his love to any baser object) must bear about with him an aching heart ,and an uneasy dissatisfied eye.

      "You have left your first love!"--And what have you gained by the leaving? What has this strange turn of 'capricious affection' done for you? Has it made you a happier, holier, truer, stronger, more noble, more earnest man? Has it disarmed the world's enmity? Has it conciliated the devil? Has it nerved you for the battle with the principalities and powers of hell? Has this scattering over a hundred objects--of affections that were formerly centered upon me--brought with it enlargement and liberty--an increase of joy and peace? Ah! Ask your hearts what your gain has been? A few indulgences which once you did not dare to venture on. A few mirthful smiles of worldly companionship. A few pleasures, for which, until your first love had gone--you had no relish. A more unrestrained enjoyment of the things which perish with the using--a keener appetite for trifles and frivolities, for foolish talking and jesting--a contentment with religious forms, and names, and words, and creeds, and doctrines--a wider sympathy with fashion and vanity--less decision and more compromise--weaker recoil from the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eye, and the pride of life--growing desire for reunion with a present evil world, in its amusements and tastes, its revelings and banquetings, its self-pleasing, its flesh-pleasing, its love of show and costly attire.

      These are some of the things for which you have exchanged your first love! For these you have sold your Lord! Judge for yourselves if the bargain has been a good one--if the 'thirty pieces of the world's silver' by which your eye has been attracted and your heart won will prove an equivalent for a lost first love! One day or other it will cost you dear. Sooner or later you will repent of your 'bargain'--and bewail your folly. Remember that 'no man having drunk old wine immediately desires new--for he says, the old is better.'

      You have not indeed renounced Christ--but you have come down from your noble elevation. You have not perhaps ceased to love Him, but you love Him less--and other objects have now a place side by side with Him who once filled up your heart so as to leave no room for a 'rival affection'! You may possess many things (as your gracious Master most kindly allows you)--but you have failed in love. You have a name among the Churches; you have intelligence, wisdom, wealth, honor, position, influence, political and social standing--but you have left your first love! No, you have a zeal, hatred of error, patience, courage, perseverance in well-doing--but you have left your first love!

      Insignificant as a descent like this may be in the eyes of men, it is great indeed in the estimation of Him who prizes love above all gifts and offerings, above all gold and frankincense, and myrrh; for is it not written, 'Now abides faith, hope, love, these three, but the greatest of these is love?' What, then, though 'you could speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love? You have become sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal.' 'If a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would be utterly scorned' (Song 8:7).

      And who are you that think it a right thing to give but 'half a heart' to Him who asks the whole--to Him who loved you and gave Himself for you? Who are you that claim the liberty of giving or withholding affection at your pleasure? Do you not call to mind the thrice-repeated question of your risen Lord 'Do you love me?' And what will you answer Him when He comes again in His glory? Oh, heartless Ephesian--is your Lord's love nothing to you? Is His gracious jealousy, His longing for your love, His grateful remembrance of all your poor services, His entreaty that you should repent and to your first works, His promise, 'To him who overcomes will I give to eat of the tree of life which is in the midst of the paradise of God'--are all these light things in your eyes?

      And if all these are trifles, is a warning like this a trifle, 'Remember whence you are fallen, and repent, and do the first works, or else I will come unto you quickly, and will remove your candlestick out of its place, except you repent?' And is it a trifle to be told, from lips which cannot lie, 'If any man does not love the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema maranatha'?

      Oh, heartless Ephesian, retrace your steps at once! You did run well--who has hindered you? Begin once more at the beginning. Go back to the fountainhead of love--I mean your Lord's love to you, the sinner--there refill your empty vessel! Go back to the blessed Sun, whose light is still as free and brilliant as ever; there rekindle your dying torch; there warm your cold heart, and learn to love again, as you did at first. So shall the love of Christ constrain you; you shall love Him who first loved you; you shall feel the quickening power of the living One; you will rise up again to your former warmth, by knowing His love which passes knowledge, and finding that, in spite of all your fickleness and faithlessness, that His love is still the same towards you!

      We bring to you the glad tidings of that great love of Christ which was preached at first to Ephesus and by means of which her first love was kindled--the love, not of the Son only, but of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit--the free and infinite love of Godhead. It is this which is the true remedy for your lost first love. Go to that love again, and learn it in all its fullness and exceeding riches! Learn that God, who is rich in mercy, for the great love with which He has loved us, even when we were dead in sins, quickens us together with Christ. Learn anew the length and breadth, the depth and height, of this love! Know the love which passes knowledge--that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.

https://articles.ochristian.com/