CRITICAL NOTES
Romans 15:1.—We who are strong ought to bear the infirmities of the weak, and not to be self-pleasers.
Romans 15:2. Let every one of us please his neighbour.—Not for mere gratification, but for his good.
Romans 15:3. The reproaches of them that reproached thee fell on me.—Quotation from the sixty-ninth psalm. We are thus taught that the prophetical psalm is applied to Christ suffering for us. If Christ did not please Himself, how much less we! How calmly should we bear even undeserved reproaches when Christ bore those designed for God!
MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH.— Romans 15:1-3
Christ’s example teaches mutual condescension.—Baur says, “This piece contains nothing which had not been much better said before.” In the same strain M. Renan affirms, “These verses repeat and weakly sum up what precedes.” But this is surely to ignore the broader aspect of the apostle’s teaching. He here passes from what we may call the particular to the general. It is with him no longer a question of meats, but in general of the relation between Judæo-Christianity more or less legal, of which the party of the weak was a branch, and that pure spirituality which is the proper character of Paul’s gospel. There is a statement of the general principle according to which the strong ought to conduct themselves towards the weak in all times and whatever may be the character of the infirmity. And this condescension towards the weak is taught and enforced by the example of Christ. If it were to be admitted that these verses were a weak summing up of what precedes, we gladly welcome the repetition for the sake of that one powerful sentence, “For even Christ pleased not Himself.” In one simple sentence we have brought before the mind the broad aspect of the spirit and mission of Him who went about doing good. The example of Christ must ever be the Christian’s motive and inspiration. In order to get away from the spirit of self-pleasing, let us direct special attention to the words, “For even Christ pleased not Himself.”
I. Christ had a right to please Himself.—If any person may be supposed to have such a right, that person is Jesus Christ.
1. He had a right as creator. All the rights which creatures possess are delegated; they are of the nature of privileges. As a creature, I have no right over myself independent of the will of the Creator. As a member of the great brotherhood of humanity, I have no right over myself inconsistent with the rights and not tending to the welfare of such brotherhood. “No man liveth to himself” is the law of a properly constituted humanity as it is a gospel precept. But Christ in one aspect of His nature was not in a subordinate position; for He was creator. If all things were created for Him, had He not the privilege of considering Himself. As the giver of the laws of right and of justice, as the authority from whom there can be no appeal as to what is fit and proper to be done, we may suppose Him having a right to please Himself.
2. Christ had a right as being above the law of human necessity. Even if we set ourselves to please ourselves, we find that we are limited by our natures, by our circumstances. Society hedges us round, and will not allow us to please ourselves in an unlimited degree. Our own personal welfare will not permit self-pleasing to any large extent. The sensual man cannot please himself to an unlimited extent; the ambitious man must deny himself in order to promote his projects; the student must scorn delights and live laborious days that he may reach the goal. But Christ, as divine, is raised above the law of human necessity. Even as human He stands on a higher level of humanity than all other beings, and we may suppose that He might have pleased Himself without doing violence to society.
3. Christ had a right as being all-wise. The wisest are liable to error. When the foolishness of the fool tends to violence, society puts him in safe keeping, and says he has no right to please himself. Wise I may be, but my wisdom is imperfect, and therefore self should not be the law of my being and the rule of my action. Why should I with dogmatism impose my creeds upon my fellow-creatures? Why should I not consider the claims of my fellow-creatures? But Christ was all-wise. As man He was delivered from those errors and littlenesses which spoil the glory of even greatest man, and therefore He might indeed have pleased Himself and others have been benefited.
4. Christ had a right as being all-good. Wicked men are the class to whom there must not be permitted this course of pleasing themselves. Carry out the thought, and it will be seen that no man has a right to please himself. The higher we get in the scale of humanity, the less we have of wickedness and the less are we disposed to make self-pleasing the rule of life. The noblest men walk on the tableland of self-denial. This was the glorious tableland on which the Redeemer trod, and every spot on which He trod became fruitful of immortal flowers. The very goodness of Christ constituted a claim why He should please Himself. Why should He suffer who had no sins of His own to carry? Why should He be placed in the trying school of tribulation when there was no selfishness to be ground out of His loving nature?
II. Christ’s renunciation of such right.—But “even Christ pleased not Himself.” Let emphasis be placed on the word “even,” in order to bring out the voluntary nature of this renunciation and to show the vastness of His love. Even Christ, the God-man, the Creator, pleased not Himself.
1. Christ renounced His right by making His Father’s will supreme. Christ as man says, “I came not to do Mine own will, but the will of Him that sent Me.” Perfectly constituted as Christ was as to His human nature, there might yet be in Him a lower will. But He seemed to rise up in the majesty of filial affection, and place His feet upon this lower will and give to the divine will the place of supremacy. Not for a moment did He shrink from bearing the reproaches of the wicked. God’s honour was so dear to His heart that the reproaches of the wicked hurled at God were received by the Son to His wounding and to the increase of His agony. The righteous soul of Lot was vexed with the filthy conversation of the wicked; but how sharply was the soul of Christ pierced by the reproaches of the wicked against God! If David could say, “I beheld the transgressors, and was grieved,” what language shall fittingly describe the agonies of David’s greater Son as He listened to those who reproached God? The Saviour’s grief was too great for tears; this blessed outlet to sorrow was not possible. Indeed, grief broke His heart as the reproaches of them that reproached God fell upon His sensitive nature. As we study the phenomena of the Saviour’s death, we find that it was no poetical flight to say that He died of a broken heart. But we shall not carry out the purpose of the apostle if we do not notice how Christ renounced His right in relation to men. We might expect Christ the Son of God by virtue of that relationship and through affection for God not to please Himself in regard to the divine will; but will His compassion for men lead Him to desist from pleasing Himself for their welfare? Yes, it will.
2. Christ pleased not Himself by placing Himself in contact with ignorance and sinfulness. Difficult is it for us to realise the pain which Christ must have experienced as He came in contact with the ignorant and the sinful. We may try to draw the picture of the philosopher coming down from the heights of his studies to associate with the ignorant; we may picture the pure maiden brought up in a home of Christian purity, across the crystal waters of whose soul no shadow of wrong has ever flitted, who has all along breathed the fragrant atmosphere of virtue, being suddenly taken to live where vice reigns, where the atmosphere is rendered stiffing by reason of impurity; we may think of the heroism of the Moravian missionaries who shut themselves up with the lepers in order to do them spiritual good. But both fact and fancy fail to enable the ordinary mind to understand what it was when Christ became the “friend of publicans and of sinners.” His pure soul was keenly sensitive. And yet blessed benevolence! He pleased not Himself, but went down to the dark pits of ignorance, dispelling the gloom of sinfulness, driving forth the offensive odours.
3. Christ pleased not Himself by giving to the wants of others a foremost place. Very touching is the incident of the wearied Jesus sitting down at Jacob’s well, asking drink from the Samaritan woman. He saw her thirst, and sets Himself to remove that moral thirst before she helps Him to satisfy His physical thirst. Divine and glorious self-forgetfulness! We know not that the Saviour ever drank out of that Samaritan woman’s waterpot; but this we know, that she drank from the living stream that flowed from that wearied traveller. And this incident is characteristic of all His earthly conduct—thought for others before thought for Himself. At the close of the most laborious day He never pleaded that His wearied nature required repose; but, “wearied and worn as He was, He pleased not Himself, but went forth and patiently listened to all their tales of woe, tasted their several complaints, raised each suppliant from the dust, nor left them till He had absorbed their sufferings and healed them all. He went through the land like a current of vital air, an element of life, diffusing health and joy wherever He appeared.”
4. Christ pleased not Himself, for He never demanded that the recipients of His blessings should become His servants. We do not know that any of His disciples received from Him material blessings. He called those to be His immediate followers who were not the recipients of His physical benefits. What a large following the Saviour might have secured had He charged the sick whom He healed to repay Him for the work of mercy! The only time in which Jesus seemed to reprove the healed for their ingratitude was in the case of the ten lepers. “And Jesus answering said, Were there not ten cleansed? but where are the nine? There are not found that returned to give glory to God, save this stranger.” Even here He pleased not Himself. It is not glory to Me the worker of miracles, but glory to God. He caused the healing virtue to flow from Him in copious measure like water from the abundant fountain, without any thought of Himself being refreshed by the reactive influence of the streams of His beneficence. How unlike to Christ are most men! The world’s ingratitude closes up the streams of our benevolence like a keen frost in the winter. But the world’s ingratitude never for one moment stayed the rich on-flowing of the Saviour’s beneficent doings. Oh for a baptism of the spirit displayed by Him who pleased not Himself, who had a perfect self-surrender and a complete submission to the divine will, who bore our sicknesses and carried our sorrows—the spirit of that noble apostle who counted not his life dear unto himself that he might finish his course with joy and the ministry which he had received from the Lord Jesus—the spirit of those who rejoiced that they were counted worthy to suffer such things as persecution and spoliation for His name’s sake—the spirit of all in every age, of the martyrs and the noble workers of all time, who have been willing to suffer for the good of humanity! Are we prepared at the call of duty and in obedience to the voice of God not to please ourselves, but to please our neighbour for his good to edification?
III. Christ’s impelling motive to such renunciation our example and our inspiration.—It was the impelling motive of love that induced Christ to tread the pathway of self-denial. All loves are centred in Christ. He was the embodiment and highest manifestation of truest love. Something of this love must operate in our natures if we are to be delivered from mere self-pleasing. It cannot be cast out by mere prudential considerations. The eagle darting down from her eyrie once lighted on a burnt offering which lay upon the altar of God, and bore it away to feed her young. But a burnt coal adhered to the flesh of the offering, and being laid upon the dry sticks of the nest, it set them on fire, and the unfledged eaglets perished in the flames. By self-pleasing we may seek to rob God of His rights and our fellows of their rights; but to all such unlawful spoil there will adhere the red-hot coal of justice, that will destroy our manhood, our peace, our joy, our spiritual vitality. Let us beware how we give way to the injurious spirit of self-pleasing. However, this evil spirit can only be effectually destroyed by the entrance of Christlike love. True love goes out of self, seeks the enlargement of opportunities, and becomes creative in its very intensity. The loyal and patriotic subject does not strive to pare down the demands of a wise and just sovereign; the loving child does not endeavour to strip the father’s word of all binding force by skilful manipulations; and the true heart does not inquire, How can I do the very least for my God and the very least for God’s creatures? but thinks that the very greatest it can either do or offer is far too little. Oh for a love which, though it have only two mites to give, yet casts them into the treasury of Him unto whom belongeth both the gold, the silver, and the copper, and thus enriches the ages! Oh for a love which, though it possess only the alabaster box of ointment very precious, yet breaks the box over the Saviour’s head in loving consecration to His predestined offering! Oh for a love which, though it have only tears to offer, yet pours them in plentiful measure on the Saviour’s feet, and with the rich tresses of a head, full of grateful thoughts, wipes the tear-bedewed feet of Immanuel!
Looking up, and lifting up.—In the grouping of nature dissimilar things are brought together. Mutual service is the world’s great law. In the natural grouping of human life the same rule is found. Dissimilarity constitutes the qualification for heartfelt union among mankind. A family is a combination of opposites. That there are diversities of gifts is the reason why there is one Spirit. The same principle distinguishes natural society from artificial association. The former brings together elements that are unlike; while the latter combines the like. Old civilisations follow a law the reverse of that which we have ascribed to the providential rule. The daily life of each is passed in the presence, not of his unequals, but of his equals. This is not entirely evil. Now the faith of Christ throws together the unlike ingredients which civilisation had sifted out from one another. Every true Church reproduces the unity which the world had dissolved. And as the arrangements by which we stand with beings above and beings below are the origin of faith, so is the practical recognition of this position the great means of feeding the perpetual fountain of the Christian life.
A great German poet and philosopher was fond of defining religion as consisting in a reverence for inferior beings. The definition is paradoxical; but though it does not express the essence of religion, it assuredly designates one of its effects. True there could be no reverence for lower natures, were there not, to begin with, the recognition of a supreme Mind; but the moment that recognition exists, we certainly look on all that is beneath with a different eye. It becomes an object, not of pity and protection only, but of sacred respect; and our sympathy, which had been that of a humane fellow-creature, is converted into the deferential help of a devout worker of God’s will. And so the loving service of the weak and wanting is an essential part of the discipline of the Christian life. Some habitual association with the poor, the dependent, the sorrowful, is an indispensable source of the highest elements of character. It strips off the thick bandages of self, and bids us awake to a life of greater sensibility. Had we hurt a superior, we should have expected punishment; had we offended an equal, we should have looked for displeasure. But to have injured the weak strikes anguish into our hearts, and we expect from God the retribution which there is no more to give. The other half of Christian discipline is of a less sad and more inspiring kind. There are those who dislike the spectacle of anything that greatly moves or visibly reproaches them; who therefore shun those who know more, see deeper, aim higher than themselves. This form of selfishness may not be inconsistent with the duty of lifting up the beings beneath us; but it is the contrary of the other portion of the devout life, which consists in looking up to all that is above us. Only the fairest and sublimest natures can remain in the presence of infirm or depraved humanity without a lowering of the moral conceptions and a depression of faith and hope. Hence the anxiety of every one, in proportion to the noble earnestness in which he looks on life, that holds himself in communion with great and good minds. He knows that the upper spring of his affections must soon be dry, unless he ask the clouds to nourish them. If therefore there be any virtue, if there be any praise, whoever would complete the circle of the Christian life will think on these things—will thrust aside the worthless swarm of competitors on his attention; in his reading will retain, in his living associations will never wholly lose, his communion with the few lofty and faithful spirits that glorify our world; and, above all, will at once quench and feed his thirst for highest wisdom by trustful and reverent resort to Him in whom sanctity and sorrow, the divine and the human, mingled in ineffable combination.—Martineau, “Endeavours after the Christian Life.”
Romans 15:1. The duty of the strong to the weak.
I. The strong here are the strong in faith—the enlightened.—Those who had correct views respecting the liberty and spirituality of the gospel were to bear with the prejudices of their weaker brethren. In this aspect the words have still their force for us. Religious doubts and crotchets we have always with us; although, having relation to things that are comparatively new, they vary with circumstances and fashions. The words are true also in a much wider sense.
II. We who are strong physically ought to bear the infirmities of the weak.—The robust should help to bear what is a burden to the delicate. The healthy ought to relieve the tedium and smooth the pillow of the sick. The young should help the aged. The rich should help the poor. The infirmities of the weak we are, as it were, to put on our own shoulders, and bear for those who are tottering under them.
III. The strong in mind ought to bear the infirmities of temper of the weak.—Some are irritable, soon made peevish, easily roused to anger. We who are differently constituted—less sensitive, who can be calm undér annoyance, slight, and opposition—ought to bear with the weaknesses of those who are possessed of a less happy disposition. Do not lose patience with their touchiness. Bear from them much in kindness. Remember that they are weak. Loss of temper is often a sign of weakness. (One losing in a game becomes irritable, one having the worse of an argument often loses temper.) Enforced by the fact:
1. We are all constituted differently one from another. All have infirmities; but the infirmities of one differ from the infirmities of another. If each sought to please his neighbour, to bear his infirmities, one another’s weaknesses would become bonds of union.
2. The example of our Lord: “Let every one of us please his neighbour for his good to edification, for even Christ pleased not Himself.” Though rich, yet for our sakes He became poor. He emptied Himself of His glory, of His strength, that He might bear our infirmities. How remarkable was His forbearance with His disciples! This was one of His greatest trials. And bearing the infirmities of weaker brethren will be to the Christian always the most trying exercise of self-denial. But shall any one grow weary when he remembers that “Christ pleased not Himself”?
Thou who wishest to be considered strong, show thy strength in the true, manly, Christlike way of bearing the infirmities of the weak (Joshua 17:15).
1. Thou art strong in muscle and sinew; then help those who are delicate and weak.
2. Thou art strong in nerve; then step before the trembling, and give courage to those who are shaking with fear.
3. Thou art strong in intellect; you can smile at popular error. But it is no mark of strength to laugh at others’ weakness; show thy strength by instructing the ignorant, guiding the erring.
4. Thou art strong in faith. Help others to realise by thy strength of faith the things unseen. Whatever be the nature of your strength, you deserve to be considered strong only by helping the weak. In God’s sight, the more strength you have the more you will have to answer for at the judgment day.—D. Longwill.
Romans 15:1. The nobler choice.—We may be said to spend our life in choosing, and our choice is threefold:
1. Between the greater and the smaller evil (see 2 Chronicles 20:12-13);
2. Between that which is positively good and that which is distinctly evil (see Deuteronomy 30:19);
3. Between the lower and the higher good. It is to the last of these three that the text invites attention.
I. Our right as the children of God.—In the parable of the prodigal son the father, addressing the elder son, says, “Thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine.” These words indicate our position toward our heavenly Father. He invites us to appropriate and to partake of “all that is His.” “The earth is His, and all its fulness” (Psalms 24:1); and He makes us free to possess and to enjoy, withholding nothing that is not hurtful to us. Those who in God’s name forbid us to accept His provision come under strong apostolic condemnation (see 1 Timothy 4:1-3); their doctrine is from below, and not from above. The truth is that “every creature of God is good, and nothing to be refused.” Our right is unquestionable; we are at liberty to partake of the fruits of the earth, of the comforts of life, of the joys which spring from human relationships, so long and so far as
(1) we do not injure ourselves or wrong other people,
(2) we cherish and express gratitude to the divine Giver,
(3) we remember the needy, and do our best to let our friends and neighbours share our inheritance. But while it is always open to us to claim our right, and while it is sometimes desirable (if not necessary) to assert it against those who would deny it, there is often left to us another and a worthier course—to forgo it in favour of our neighbour’s need. Here enters—
II. Our privilege as the disciples of Christ.—There is a large use of stimulants, as also of narcotics, amongst us; they are used, not only as medicine, but also as articles of diet, as requirements of hospitality, as sources of refreshment or enjoyment. That there is a sore and grievous abuse of these things is not merely undeniable; it is a fact that is patent and palpable; it confronts us, and challenges our attention. Now there is no law of Christ which forbids the use of these things; no precept of the Master or of His apostles can be quoted to prove their impropriety. So long as a man uses them in moderation, in such measure that no injury is done to his body or his mind, he cannot be charged with inconsistency as a Christian man. He violates no law of Christ; he is within his right. But he may be appealed to not to stand upon his right. It is open to him to act upon another and a higher consideration: instead of claiming his right to participate, he may elect to use his privilege to forgo and to abstain. He may be strong enough to overcome temptation himself, but he may have regard to “the infirmities of the weak,” instead of “pleasing himself”; by not partaking he may, by his example of abstinence, encourage those who need encouragement to preserve sobriety in the only form which is open to them. This is the nobler choice. It is so, because:
1. It is in harmony with the teaching of our Lord. He taught us that it was His will that His servants should deny themselves; that they should find their lives by losing them; that it is more blessed to give than to receive; that whatever we do on behalf of His “little ones”—i.e., of those who are least well able to take care of themselves—is accepted by Him as done unto Himself; and, through His inspired apostles, He has taught us that we should bear one another’s burdens, that by (in) love we should serve one another, that the strong should help the weak.
2. It is in profound accord with the action of our Lord. It may seem to be comparing a very small thing indeed with a very great one indeed, to compare so simple an action or a habit as that of abstinence with so sublime a sacrifice as that of Jesus Christ, when He made Himself of no reputation, and took on Him the form of a servant (see Philippians 2:5-8). But the same principle may underlie or animate two actions of widely different proportions; and it is possible for us to illustrate and to repeat, in our humble sphere and on our lowly scale, the very spirit which actuated our Lord in His great condescension, and the very life He lived when He dwelt among men, and when He died to redeem us all. It is the principle that it is better and nobler to minister than to be ministered unto; it is the spirit of self-sacrificing love. And whether this be found in a divine incarnation, or whether it be manifested in a simple action at a table in a cottage or in a hall, where a man denies himself a pleasure or a good in order that he may help his brother to stand, and to keep him from falling, the one is a moral and spiritual resemblance, as it is a moral and spiritual sequence, of the other. We act as our Master acted, we “walk even as He walked,” when in any humblest scene or sphere whatsoever we forgo our individual right, in order that we may use our privilege of holy service; like our Lord, we make the nobler choice.
3. It is the intrinsically nobler thing. We cordially admire and unreservedly praise the men who, when their rights have been assailed, have manfully and even heroically asserted them at all hazards; they have chosen an honourable course. But they who have suffered that they might save have done more nobly still. Those Moravian missionaries who sold themselves into slavery that they might preach the gospel to their fellow-slaves; those philanthropists who have been willing to breathe the foul and fetid airs of the old-time dungeon, in order that they might make the lot of the common prisoner less intolerable than it used to be; they who have stooped that they might better serve their neighbours; they who have cheerily denied themselves the comforts and enjoyments they might have claimed, in order that they might gain a leverage with which to raise the fallen, or secure a better position in which to guide and guard the innocent and unstained,—these have chosen the worthier course, and have walked along the heavenlier heights.
4. It is the course which will best bear reflection. Innocent enjoyment is well in its way and in its measure. But it is very transient; it affords the feeblest and faintest satisfaction in the retrospect of it. Not so with an action or a course of self-sacrificing ministry. Upon that, however distant it may be, and however simple it may have been, we look back with a keen approval and with serene and devout thankfulness. To the very end of our life we shall thank God that we had the spirit and the strength to forgo what would have pleased ourselves, that we might bear the infirmities of the weak, and thus help them to gain their victory and to win their crown.—William Clarkson, B.A.
Romans 15:2. On pleasing all men.—
1. This duty incumbent on all, especially on all those who are entrusted with the oracles of God. The pleasing is to every man’s neighbour—i.e., every child of man; but in view of the words, “If it be possible,” etc., we are to please all men. Strictly speaking, this is not possible.
2. Observe in how admirable a manner Paul limits this direction. We are to please men for their good; also for their edification—to their spiritual and eternal good.
3. All treatises and discourses on this subject are defective, so far as Wesley has seen. One and all had some lower design in pleasing men than to save their souls; therefore they do not propose the right means for the end.
4. Some take exception to this; yet—
5. e.g., Chesterfield advises his son, but badly. Wesley then proceeds to show the right method of pleasing men.
I. In removing hindrances out of the way.—
1. First avoid everything which tends to displease wise and good men of sound understanding and real piety, such as cruelty, malice, envy, hatred, revenge, ill-nature.
2. Also the assumption of arrogant, overbearing behaviour. Whoever desires to please his neighbour for his good must take care of splitting on this rock.
3. Avoid also a passionate temper and behaviour. Passionate men have seldom many friends, at least for any length of time.
4. Also put away all lying. It can never be commendable or innocent, and therefore never pleasing.
5. Is not flattery a species of lying? Yet it is pleasing. Truly it pleases for a while, but not when the mask drops off.
6. Not only lying, but every species of it; dissimulation, e g., is displeasing to men of understanding. So also guile, subtlety, cunning—the whole art of deceiving
II. In using the means that directly tend to this end.—
1. Let love not visit you as a transient guest, but be the constant temper of your soul. Let there be in your tongue the law of kindness.
2. If you would please your neighbour for his good, study to be lowly in heart. “Be clothed with humility,” as against the maxim of the heathen, “The more you value yourself, the more others will value you.” God “resisteth the proud, and giveth grace unto the humble.”
3. Labour and pray that you may also be meek; labour to be of a calm, dispassionate temper.
4. See that you are courteous toward all men, superiors or inferiors; the lowest and the worst have a claim to our courtesy.
5. Honour all men; and the Masser teaches me to love all men. Join these, and what is the effect? I love them for their Redeemer’s sake.
6. Take all proper opportunities of declaring to others the affection which you really feel for them.
7. Also speak to all men the very truth from your heart; be a man of veracity.
8. To sum up all in one word: if you would please men, please God! Let truth and love possess your whole soul; let all your actions be wrought in love; never let mercy and truth forsake thee. “So shalt thou find favour and good understanding in the sight of God and man.”—John Wesley.
Romans 15:2-3. Pleasing our neighbours.—There is a pleasing of our neighbours which is very different from that here described,—a pleasing of him by chiming in with his prejudices; by flattering his infirmities; by complying with his sinful wishes; by laughing at his wicked jokes; by countenancing him in his evil ways; in short, by doing, or not doing, that which will ensure us popularity with our neighbour, though at the expense of principle in ourselves. What we all must learn is to seek our neighbour’s well-being, so that his evil should be our burden, and his good our happiness and reward. We must learn so to love him, that we shall, if necessary, displease him, and put him to pain, and make him perhaps angry with us for a time, if in this way only we can do him good in the end; just as a kind surgeon will put us to pain in order to save our lives. “Every one of us” must thus please his neighbour, because every one has some neighbour thus to please. If we first please God, by giving Him our hearts for our own good to salvation, then we cannot but choose to please our neighbour for his good to edification. Should any one still ask, “Who is my neighbour?” we should refer them to the reply given by our Lord to the same question, in the parable of the good Samaritan. Few errors are more common in daily life than supposing, either that others are of no importance to us, or that we are of no importance to others. These errors stand and fall together. The moment we discover how much our state is affected by others, that moment we also discover how much the state of others is affected by our own. Our neighbour has learned this grand lesson from his Master—not to please himself, but to please us for our good; he has trampled underfoot the selfish and unchristian saying, “I keep myself to myself”; and he has put in its place one more worthy a follower of Christ—“I give myself to thee.” And though this neighbour is of little importance to the big, noisy world, he is of great importance to us. He is like the candle or the food in our house,—if the one were extinguished, and the other removed, neither would be missed by the world, but they would be very greatly missed by us and by our family. Some of our neighbours have hard or indifferent thoughts of us, as we once had of the world. Go and change them. Some are saying, “We have heard of Christianity; we should like to see a Christian.” Go and show them one, by opening to them a Christian’s heart and life, and not a Christian’s opinions merely. And as that good neighbour made us feel he was of importance to us, so may we as good neighbours make ourselves felt to be of importance to others. We repeat it, we need nothing else than a heart which truly loves God and man—that is, the heart of a child of God—to be an unspeakable blessing and of immense importance in our present place in society. But the apostle further sets before us Jesus Christ as the great example of self-sacrificing love, when he says, “Even Christ pleased not Himself.” Even Christ! He who is the “firstborn of every creature, heir of all things,” “in whom dwelt the fulness of the Godhead,” “who is God over all, blessed forever,” “even He pleased not Himself,” but sacrificed Himself for His neighbour; and we need not ask of Him who His neighbour is, who Himself not only perfectly loved the Lord His God, but His “neighbour as Himself.” Christ’s neighbour was every man. “Even Christ pleased not Himself.” These words discribe His character. For the sake of others He came into the world; for others He lived; for others He prayed; for others He wept; for others He died; for others He intercedes; and for others He will come again! The works and words of every day He spent upon earth are a comment upon this beautiful picture—“He pleased not Himself.” He ever sought to please His neighbour, but only for his good, by the sacrifice of self. Every other pleasing is but a pleasing of self by the sacrifice of good. Thus only, let us add, can Jesus please us now, or bless us, by doing us good. Well might the apostle say, “He pleased not Himself”! And such is the “mind” which must be in us if we are “in Him.” “We that are strong ought to bear the infirmities of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Let every one of us please his neighbour for his good to edification. For even Christ pleased not Himself.” “Now the God of patience and consolation grant you to be likeminded one toward another according to [i.e., after the example of] Jesus Christ.” Let the enmity to the living God which is in our natural hearts be slain by faith in His love to us through Christ, and then shall all enmity to our fellowmen be slain also. Let God’s love to us be shed abroad upon our hearts by the Holy Spirit, and then shall these hearts be shut no longer by wicked selfishness against our neighbour. Let us carry our Lord’s cross, and then we shall carry our brother’s burden.—Dr. Macleod.
SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS ON Romans 15:1-3
Pleasing of others to be innocent.—Not as if His undertaking our cause was against His will, or that He ever felt it to be a task and a grievance. He was voluntary in the engagement and cheerful in the execution, and could say, “I have a baptism to be baptised with, and how am I straitened till it be accomplished!” But He never followed the indulgence of His natural inclination. He preferred the glory of God and our benefit to His own gratification. He did not consult His ease; but denied the demands of sleep when duty required exertion. He rejected, with anger, Peter’s proposal to spare Himself from suffering. He did not consult ambitious feelings; but refused the people when they would have made Him king. He stood not upon rank and consequence, but washed His disciples’ feet, and was among them as one that serveth. He was far more delighted with Mary’s reception of His word than with Martha’s preparation for His appetite. He was not only thirsty, but hungry, when the disciples left Him at the well to go and buy meat; but when they returned, and said, “Master, eat,” He replied, “I have meat to eat which ye know not of.” In your absence I have had something above corporeal satisfaction—I have been saving a soul from death. And observe the use the apostle makes of it. Because Christ pleased not Himself, therefore “He let the strong bear the infirmities of the weak, and not please themselves.” “Let every one of us please his neighbour for his good to edification.” He indeed limits the duty. We are not to humour our brother in a sinful course, but only in things innocent and lawful; and we are to do this with a view to secure and promote his welfare, and not for any advantage of our own. But we are not to consult our own little conveniences and appetites and wishes. We are not even to follow our convictions in every disputed matter. “Let us not therefore judge one another: but judge this rather, that no man put a stumbling-block or an occasion to fall in his brother’s way. I know, and am persuaded by the Lord Jesus, that there is nothing unclean of itself: but to him that esteemeth anything to be unclean, to him it is unclean. But if thy brother be grieved with thy meat, now walkest thou not charitably. Destroy not him with thy meat, for whom Christ died.” Here again the apostle calls in Jesus as a motive and an example. He denied Himself for this weak brother, and will you, says Paul, refuse to deny yourself in a trifling forbearance on his behalf?—W. Jay.
Self-pleasing not Christ’s motive.—“For even Christ pleased not Himself.” This does not mean either that well-doing or self-denial was distasteful to Christ; it does not mean that the exercise of benevolence was something for which He had to nerve Himself up from day to day; but it means that considerations of personal ease and comfort, of mere sensual gratification, were not paramount, did not occupy the first place. As He went here and there doing good, His mind was wholly intent on the benefit to others. Self-pleasing, in the ordinary acceptation of the term, was not His aim; so He said, “I delight to do Thy will, O My God.” Self-pleasing, as such, commonly implies selfishness, and not infrequently indolence. Self-pleasing is living for oneself to the disregard of the claims, needs, or happiness of others. The highest, noblest form of self-pleasing, which finds delights in every good work, is not meant or alluded to in the passage under consideration. When Christ took upon Himself the form of a servant, self-pleasing was not His motive. He desired to undertake and accomplish what no other man could, and that not for His own honour, but for man’s benefit. When He healed the sick, gave sight to the blind, restored hearing to the deaf, cleansed the leper, and raised the dead—when He comforted Martha and Mary concerning their brother—when He healed the broken-hearted, what was His motive? Not self-pleasing, certainly. Was His last journey to Jerusalem undertaken for any profit, honour, or worldly satisfaction? Too well He knew what was before Him: the trial, the agony, the suffering, the shame. “Father, if this cup may not pass from Me except I drink it, Thy will be done,” is a striking comment on the words, “Christ pleased not Himself.” “We watch Him drinking the bitter cup, enduring the agony of unknown sufferings, placing Himself in the position of sinners, exhausting their punishment; and all that His Father’s will might be done—not His own will, not what He would Himself as man have desired.” Here we see sublime unselfishness! We may desire and seek it, but we cannot attain unto it. Yet look at the self-sacrificing spirit of Judson, Selwyn, Patteson, and Hannington, the martyr of Equatorial Africa; it was not self-pleasing, but Christlike unselfishness. Self-seeking stands in the way of the Church’s progress, and prevents the good that might else be done. It is a blight in the family; for it is the offspring of the rankest selfishness, and militates against true happiness. Peace in the family comes from affection, and a regard for the feelings, rights, and lawful privileges of other members of the household. Forbearance, charity, and true gentleness flourish not where there is self-seeking. Wisdom, like the love that never faileth, “seeketh not her own”—seeketh the good of others. Unobtrusive acts of kindness, anticipation of others’ wishes—oh, they are gems and stars of happiness, “blessing him that gives and him that takes”! Self-forgetfulness is the opposite of self-seeking; self-love is the very antipodes of the love that Christ taught us and gave us an example of. Self-seeking looks for its own interest and glory, true charity for the good of others. The great curse of society is selfishness, with its hollow courtesies and feigned politeness: sometimes it is not even gilded with these, and makes earth resemble hell. We read of a certain king who commanded a musician to play and sing before him. It was a time of rejoicing, and many were bidden to the feast. He took his harp, tuned it, and played sweetly and sang beautifully, so that it seemed none could equal him. The company was enraptured, and listened eagerly that not a note or strain might be lost. But what was his theme? Himself; his own excellences; his great achievements. When, however, he presented himself to the king for the expected reward, it was refused. He had had his reward—all that he deserved. Christ Himself spoke of those who “did their righteousness” before men, and condemned them. “Thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet; and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly.” Benevolence and not selfishness, thoughtfulness for others rather than for oneself, self-sacrifice and not self-seeking, are taught us by Him who “pleased not Himself.” The worshippers of Diana were called Dianeans, and were expected to be like her; but we are called Christians, and are to be like Christ.—Dr. Burrows.
Christ’s example to be realised.—The example of Christ is to the believer the new law to be realised (Galatians 6:2); hence the “for also.” If, as man, Christ had pleased Himself in the use of His liberty, or in the enjoyment of the rights and privileges which His own righteousness had acquired, what would have come of our salvation? But He had only one thought—to struggle for the destruction of sin, without concerning Himself about His own well-being, or sparing Himself even for an instant. In this bold and persevering struggle against our enemy, evil, He drew on Him the hatred of all God’s adversaries here below, so that the lamentation of the psalmist (Psalms 69:9) became, as it were, the motto of His life. In labouring thus for the glory of God and the salvation of men, He gave back, as Isaiah had prophesied, “neither before shame nor spitting.” This certainly is the antipodes of pleasing ourselves. Psalms 69 applies only indirectly to the Messiah (Romans 15:5: “My sins are not hid”); it describes the righteous Israelite suffering for the cause of God. But this is precisely the type of which Jesus was the supreme realisation. We need not say, with Meyer, that Paul adopts the saying of the psalmist directly into his text. It is more natural, seeing the total change of construction, like Grotius, to supply this idea: “but he did as is written”; comp. John 13:18. Paul, Romans 15:1-2, had said “us”; it is difficult indeed to believe that in writing these last sayings he could avoid thinking of his own apostolic life. But divine succour is needed to enable us to follow this line of conduct unflinchingly; and this succour the believer finds only in the constant use of the Scriptures, and in the help of God which accompanies it (Romans 15:4-6).—Godet.
ILLUSTRATIONS TO CHAPTER 15
Romans 15:3. Indian chief.—There was an Indian chief who lived in North-west America, amongst the cold and the ice and the snow. This chief had a visitor, a white man, who came and spent a night with him. In the morning the chief took his visitor outside the wigwam or hut in which he lived, and asked him a question. “How many people do you think,” said the chief, “passed by this hut last night?” The visitor looked at the snow very carefully, and saw the foot-marks of one man distinctly imprinted upon it. There were no other foot-marks to be seen, so he said to the chief, “Only one man has passed by.” The chief, however, told him that several hundred Indians, in fact a whole tribe, had passed his wigwam in the night. And then he explained to him that when the Indians did not want it to be known in which direction they had gone, the chief of the tribe walks first, and all the rest of the tribe follow in single file, each man placing his feet exactly in the foot-marks of the chief, so that no new foot-marks are made, and it looks as if only one man had gone by instead of hundreds. By this clever trick the enemies of the tribe are not able to find out in which way they have gone, nor to overtake them. Now Jesus Christ is our chief. He has gone first over the path of life, and He has left us His foot-marks—His example. We must place our feet where He placed His.
Romans 15:3. Narcissus and the fountain—One day Narcissus, who had resisted all the charms of others, came to an open fountain of silvery clearness. He stooped down to drink, and saw his own image, but thought it some beautiful water-spirit living in the fountain. He gazed, and admired the eyes, the neck, the hair, and the lips. He fell in love with himself. In vain he sought embraces from the beautiful water-spirit. He talked to the charmer, but received no responses. He could not break the fascination, so he pined away and died. The moral is, Think not too much nor too highly of yourselves. However, it is not by the mere presentation of the fable, but by the consideration of the glorious fact, that we must endeavour to be delivered from the injurious spirit of self-pleasing. “For even Christ pleased not Himself.” Look not to the fable of Narcissus, regard not mere prudential considerations, but consider Christ, your elder brother, who lived a life of self-denial, and who left us an example, that we should follow His steps. His affection for God the Father induced Him to take to Himself the reproaches that were cast upon God; His compassion for men induced Him to bear their sorrows and to suffer for their welfare. Let us seek to be ruled by affection for God and by compassion for our fellow-men.
Romans 15:3. Imitation of Christ.—In Paris the weavers of the Gobelin Tapestries sit concealed behind the fabrics working the pattern designed by a great artist. Passing through the room, one is struck by their loveliness; the work grows thread by thread under the busy fingers. The pattern they copy from is placed above their heads, and they have to look up for direction and guidance. We must look up to Jesus as our perfect pattern while weaving the trials, experience, and daily mercies our heavenly Father has placed as threads in our hands. And no stitch can be wrong if worked by faith’s steadfast gaze. “Looking unto Jesus,” let us be content to stand behind our work, leaving the result to Him.—J. K. Corving.
Romans 15:3. Chinese plaque.—A gentleman had a Chinese plaque with curious raised figures upon it. One day it fell from the wall on which it was hung, and was cracked right across the middle. Soon after the gentleman sent to China for six more of these valuable plates, and, to ensure an exact match, sent his broken plate as a copy. To his intense astonishment, when six months later he received the six plates and his injured one, he found the Chinese had so faithfully followed his copy that each new one had a crack right across it. If we imitate even the best of men, we are apt to copy their imperfections; but if we follow Jesus and take Him as our example, we are quite sure of a perfect pattern. No fear of a flaw in His life; no fear of any mistake through following Him.—Our Own Magazine.
Romans 15:3. A Japanese girl’s simile.—At a meeting in Japan the subject was, “How to glorify Christ by our lives.” One girl said, “It seems to me like this: One spring my mother got some flower seeds—little, ugly, black things—and planted them. They grew and blossomed beautifully. One dlay a neighbour, seeing the flowers, said, ‘Oh, how beautiful! Won’t you, please, give me some seeds?’ Now, if the neighbour had only just seen the flower seeds, she wouldn’t have asked for them. It was only when she saw how beautiful was the blossom she wanted the seed. And so with Christianity. We speak to our friends of the truths of the Bible; they seem to them hard and uninteresting. But when they see these same truths blossoming out in our lives into kindly words and good acts, then they say, ‘How beautiful these lives!’ Thus by our lives, more than by our tongues, we can preach Christ.”—E. J. B.
Romans 15:3. The Vatican picture.—Years ago, in a Roman palace, there hung a beautiful picture, upon which crowds went to gaze. Among them a young painter unknown to fame went daily to look upon it, until his soul was refreshed by its beauty, and a great longing came into his heart to copy it; but he was sternly refused permission. He returned repulsed, but not discouraged. Day and night its beauty haunted him. Copy it he must. Daily be came to the palace, coming early and leaving late, and, sitting before the picture, gazed upon it till it grew into him and became a part of himself; and one day he hurried home to his easel and began to paint. Each day he came and gazed at the picture, and then went home and reproduced, bit by bit, unweariedly, patiently, something of its beauty. Each fresh day’s look corrected the last day’s faults; and as he toiled his power grew, and his hidden genius blazed out. Months after, in that humble studio, there stood such a wonderful copy of the Vatican picture that those who saw it could not rest until they had seen the beautiful original. We who have seen Jesus must represent Him; but only as we look to Him daily, kneeling at His feet and gazing up into His face, do we gain power to reproduce His beauty. Daily “looking unto Jesus” we get power, skill, courage, and love, and are full of the one desire to be like Him.—Our Own Magazine.