John 15:11

CHRISTIAN JOY

‘These things have I spoken unto you, that My joy might remain in you, and that your joy might be full.’

John 15:11

In the chapter from which our text is taken we see that one result of God becoming Man is that man may be united to God. Observe the close identity of Christ with the believer and the believer with Christ—‘that My joy might remain in you.’ The joy of which the Saviour spoke was like the echo of the joy of heaven, and He wished it to remain with His disciples.

Let me indicate two or three elements of this joy which the Saviour willed, as His last boon, to give to His disciples.

I. Christian joy is grateful.—The first of them shall be that Christian joy is ever grateful. Nothing is more striking, I had almost said more saddening, than to see how the children of the world enjoy themselves in their dissipations, and never once stay to inquire by Whom it is, or for what purpose, that so much happiness is vouchsafed to them; but in the Bible it is ever gratitude which appears as a mark of the Christian character. ‘Be ye thankful.’ ‘In everything give thanks.’ ‘Would you know,’ says William Law, the author of The Serious Call, ‘who is the greatest saint? It is not he who prays most or fasts most; not he who gives most alms or is most eminent for temperance, chastity, or justice. He it is who is always thankful to God, who wills everything that God willeth, who receives everything as an instance of God’s goodness, and has a heart always to praise God for it.’

II. Christian joy is diffusive.—Again, Christian joy—sanctified joy—is and must ever be diffusive. The Saviour Himself would not keep His joy to Himself. ‘That My joy,’ He says, ‘might remain in you.’ The Christian character is like the candle that sheds light around it, even though it be wasted in the shedding. You will not dispute that this present age more than any other has need of such diffusive joy, for the circumstances of modern life no doubt tend to broaden and deepen the gulf between the classes of society, and it is not in the power of legislation to bridge that gulf, for it is in the main a matter of feeling and habit; but when we look for the unifying agencies that influence society we find them above all in those persons like the doctors or the clergy, or the sisters of mercy, or the nurses, who give not their time only or their thought, but themselves to the poor. Yes, and we find them, too, in the disinterested ministry among cultivated gentlemen and ladies who now spend some part—it may be not a small part—of their leisure in serving their poorer brethren.

III. Christian joy is solemnising.—Once again, Christian sanctified joy is a solemnising thing. We are apt to think of joy as if it were something to be used in mere wanton merriment, but in truth as there is nothing to the devout soul more humbling than success, so there is nothing more solemnising than joy. ‘Take my word,’ says St. Augustine, ‘true joy is a serious matter.’ It is serious because of its contrast with the distress of the many thousands of people who are God’s children as surely as we are. If we reflect that in the great cities of this country some twenty-five or thirty per cent of the population are living without the indispensable comforts of life it is difficult, perhaps, to enjoy ourselves unreservedly. And joy, Christian joy, is serious too, because the root of it is submission to the holy will of God. We receive at His hands what we call good; shall we not also receive what we call evil? After all, He Who knows best will give the best. And the joy is serious, I think, because of its proximity to that sorrow which, like joy itself, perhaps even more than joy itself, is an abiding feature of human life. But in the sorrows and bereavements of life we are not as those who have no hope. And ever for the Christian soul there springs up light in the darkness. His joy is eternal, as Christ Himself is eternal. It transcends even the sorrow of the grave.

—Bishop Welldon.

Illustration

‘Towards the close of Bishop Westcott’s last illness, when his strength was failing, he asked for the day’s Psalms to be read to him. “At first the Bishop tried to say the alternate verses, but this was more than he could do, so he listened, and joined in the Gloria. When this reading was finished, the Bishop, after thanking his daughters, very lovingly, added, ‘All I can do is a little bit of praise. Just a little bit of praise.’ ” They were almost the last words, the last effort of his life—“Just a little bit of praise.” His joy was full.’