Suggested Further Reading: 1 John 4:7-12
Christ’s love to us we sometimes guess at, but, ah, it is so far beyond our thoughts, our reasonings, our praises, and our apprehension too, in the sweetest moments of our most spiritual ecstasy,—who can tell it? “Oh, how he loved us!” When Jesus wept at the grave of Lazarus, the Jews exclaimed with surprise—“Behold how he loved him.” Verily, you might say the like with deeper emphasis. There was nothing in you to make him love you, but he left heaven’s throne for you. As he came down the celestial hills, methinks the angels said “Oh, how he loved them.” When he lay in the manger an infant, they gathered round and said, “Oh how he loves.” But when they saw him sweating in the garden, when he was put into the crucible, and began to be melted in the furnace, then indeed, the spirits above began to know how much he loved us. Oh Jesus! When I see thee mocked and spat upon—when I see thy dear cheeks become a reservoir for all the filth and spittle of unholy mouths—when I see thy back rent with knotted whips—when I behold thy honour and thy life both trailing in the dust—when I see thee charged with madness, with treason, with blasphemy—when I behold thy hands and feet pierced, thy body stripped naked and exposed—when I see thee hanging on the cross between heaven and earth, in torments dire and excruciating—when I hear thee cry “I thirst,” and see the vinegar thrust to thy lips—when I hear thy direful cry, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me,” my spirit is compelled to say, “Oh how he loves!”
For meditation: How cold and hardhearted we must be to ever question the Lord’s love towards us (Malachi 1:2).
Sermon no. 325
4 June (Preached 3 June 1860)
C.H. Spurgeon
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