James Nisbet's Church Pulpit Commentary
1 John 2:15
WHAT IS ‘THE WORLD’?
‘Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in Him.’
The ‘world’ here is some kind of moral order which corresponds to the ‘far country’ described in the parable of the Prodigal Son—that country where God is not obeyed, is not cared for, perhaps is not even recognised; but which is under the influence and rule of another, and an antagonistic, power.
I. The World in the Church.—Does any one say to me, ‘I, for instance, have had no experience of this opposing force—this system of antagonism—this realm, in which God is not to be found. Indeed, I question altogether the existence of such a thing as this within the borders of the Christian Church’? Well, we have only to make the experiment for ourselves. The man who is floating in a boat down a stream is incredulous when you warn him of the force of the current; and it is only when he turns his boat’s head round and endeavours to make his way upward to the spot from which the waters flow that he can be persuaded to believe in the truth of what you affirm. And it is just so in spiritual things. Content yourself with outward form; let your religion be merely superficial; multiply your ceremonies if you please, but let your heart be unchanged—and you will have a very easy time of it. The world is keen enough to recognise its own under any disguise. But change all this. Accept Christ in downright reality as your Lord and your King. Carry Christ into your life, into your conversation, into your household, into your bargains, into your counting-house, into your profession. I do not urge upon you to make a false show of Christian earnestness. That is simply disgusting. But be real and true, and be manifestly on the Lord’s side, so that there can be no doubt about it. And I am very much mistaken if you do not find that there is a ‘world’ even within the borders and precincts of the professedly Christian Church.
II. When a man becomes a true disciple under the influence of the teaching of the Spirit of God, he is drawn out of this great system and placed apart from it. ‘I have chosen you,’ says the Lord to His followers, ‘out of the world.’ Of course, it is not meant that there is any change of locality. In all probability the man remains where he was when the Lord met with him. He moves amongst his old companions; he is engaged in his old pursuits. The difference lies in the spirit which animates him, and in the motive which impels him to his work. In this respect he has become what St. Paul calls a new creature: that is, a new ‘creation’—recast, remoulded, refashioned, remade. The same in his faculties and powers, preserving his former characteristics of mind and body, of preferences and tastes; he is different from what he was, simply because the current of his being has been turned from its former direction into another channel; because, in fact, whilst he moves amongst the activities of human life, occupied, but not engrossed by them, he is all the while, in heart and spirit, a citizen of that heavenly commonwealth of which the Lord Jesus Christ is the centre and the King and the exceeding great reward. He has, as it were, pushed forward his moral and intellectual frontier. Formerly, the horizon of time was the boundary of his calculations; now, he reaches out and links himself on to the region of the eternity which lies beyond the grave. It is not, then, the intention of the Lord that the true believer should be taken out of the world, but rather that he should be ‘kept’—kept from the evil, kept from the power of surrounding influences—whilst he abides in it. For his own sake, that he may receive the necessary training and discipline; for the world’s sake, that he may make it somewhat the better and the more wholesome by his presence in it, he has to continue where he is, steadfast at his post of duty and a witness to his Divine Lord, until the summons comes for him to depart hence and to enter into the rest that remaineth for the people of God. Let this stand for our second thought.
III. It may be well for us to consider that the security of the Christian disciple, thus placed in the world, consists in his possession and retention of spiritual life.—‘He that hath the Son hath the life’; that is to say, when we lay hold of by faith, and appropriate to ourselves the Lord Jesus; when we claim our interest in His person and work—we enter into the enjoyment of that life, which is the germ and foretaste of eternal life. But it is not to be supposed that the life will be retained without our own personal concurrence in the matter. ‘Abide in Me’—says the Lord to the branches of the true vine—‘and I in you.’ If we cease to abide in Him, He ceases to abide in us. Now, no words could convey more forcibly than these the indispensable necessity there is for an earnest watchfulness on our part, and for a diligent use of opportunities in order that we may remain possessed of the trust that was committed to us, and may not be deprived of it by the influences by which we are surrounded on every side. We have, if I may so say, to keep ourselves up to the mark continually; for there is no little danger for all of us to relax our influence, and so to drift into carelessness, which may possibly lead to a fatal result.
Rev. Prebendary Gordon Calthrop.
Illustration
‘Some years ago I visited a poor sufferer, held in the grip of an incurable disease. He had always a reason to give for diminution of his physical power. He is not so well to-day; but then, he sat in a draught yesterday. Another day he is not so well; but then, he incautiously took some food that did not agree with him. Again, he is not so well; but that, of course, is the fault of the bitter east wind that is now blowing. Anything, you see, to hide from himself what is patent enough to every observer—that his vital force is gradually declining; and that, day by day, he is drawing nearer and nearer to the brink of the cold waters of the river of death. Why not so with our souls? If we notice, and we can hardly help noticing, that we are drifting away from our old moorings, and floating down the tide; if we have to confess to ourselves that our interest in religion has abated; that we do not read our Bibles—or, if we do, that we only read them as a dry matter of duty; that our private prayers are huddled up and shortened, or even abandoned altogether; that we are glad of any excuse for absenting ourselves from the house of God; that we have deserted the Lord’s table, though we once attended it; that we are beginning to relish more keenly any argument which seems to tell against the authority of the Scriptures or to throw discredit on the supernatural life—under such circumstances ought we not to conclude that the explanation of the whole matter is to be found in the fact that, somehow or other, the fabric of our spiritual vitality is being undermined?’
(SECOND OUTLINE)
‘LOVE NOT THE WORLD.’
‘Love not the world.’
This command may appear to some incapable of being obeyed. But rightly understood, it is incumbent upon us all.
I. What it is not:—
(a) It is not the world of nature.
(b) It is not the world of human occupation.
(c) It is not the world of human affection.
II. What it is.—The command applies—
(a) To the world apart from God.
(b) To the world apart from righteousness.
(c) To the world which is in opposition to the eternal and true.
The world which St. John condemns is, alas! a very real world. It is a world which is everywhere around us—a world from which we cannot escape, and yet a world which need not contaminate a single one of us. It is the world of which Wordsworth speaks when he says, ‘The world is too much with us; late and soon.’ It is the world to which our Blessed Lord alludes when He says, ‘I pray not that Thou shouldest take them out of the world, but that Thou shouldest keep them from the evil.’
Illustrations
(1) ‘It is told of Mary Godolphin that she bore an unsullied character—a soul unspotted by the world, amid the dissolute surroundings of Whitehall, in the Court of Charles II. She lived in the world—in a world infamous in history for its shameless profligacy—and yet she was not of the world; in the midst of general corruption, her “soul was like a star and dwelt apart.” ’
(2) ‘Not to love the world was identified with flying from it altogether. But even in the solitude of the desert it was revealed to the blessed saint Macarius that, in spite of his privations and asceticism, he was yet less dear to God than two poor washerwomen of Alexandria; and, upon inquiry, he found to his amazement that they were simply good women honestly endeavouring, amid the humblest surroundings, to perform their duties faithfully and well.’