Oct 13
5
Christ first PRAISES HIS PEOPLE’S LOVE. Do you love God, my Hearer? Do you love Jesus? If not, stand back! These things have nothing to do with you—if you love not Christ, you have neither part nor lot in the matter. You are in the gall of bitter- ness and in the bond of iniquity. But can you say as Peter did, when his Master asked him thrice—“Simon, son of Jonas, do you love Me?” Can you say, “Lord, You know all things, You know that I love You. And You know, O my Lord, that my grief is that I do not love You more. I pant to have my little love increased, that my heart may be eaten up with love—that zeal of love to You may completely consume me”? Hearken then, to what the Lord Jesus says to you tonight, by His Holy Spirit, from this song!
Your love, poor, feeble and cold though it is, is very precious unto the Lord Jesus—in fact it is so precious, that He Himself cannot tell how pre- cious it is. He does not say how precious, but He says, “how fair.” This is an expression that men use when they do not know how to describe any- thing. They lift up their hands, they put in a note of exclamation and they say, “How fair! How precious! How much better is your love than wine!” The fact is that Jesus values our love at such a price, that the Holy Spirit, when He dictated this Song of Solomon, could not see any word in all the human language that was large enough to set forth Christ’s estimation of our love.
Have you ever thought of Christ’s love to you till your heart has been melted—while your Beloved spoke to you till the tears have run down your eyes and you have believed you could do as Mary Magdalene did—could kiss His feet and wash them with your tears and wipe them with the hairs of your head? Now can you believe it? Just what you think of Christ’s love, Christ thinks of yours. You value His love and you are right in so doing. But I am afraid that still you undervalue it. He values your love, if I may so speak—He sets a far higher estimate upon it than you do His. He thinks very much of little, He estimates it not by its strength, but by its sincerity. “Ah,” He says, “He does love Me, he does love Me, I know he does. He sins, he disobeys Me, but still I know he loves Me—his heart is true, he does not love Me as I deserve—but still he loves Me.”
Jesus Christ is delighted with the thought that His people love Him. This cheers and gladdens Him. Just as the thought of His love gladdens us, so the thought of our love gladdens Him. Notice how He puts it—He says, “How much better is your love than wine!” Now wine, when used in Scripture, fre- quently signifies two things—a great luxury and a great refreshment. Wine is a luxury, especially it is so in this country and even in the East, where there was more of it, good wine was still a dainty thing. Now Jesus Christ looks upon His people’s love as being a luxury to Him. And I will show you that He does. When He sat at the feast of Simon the Pharisee, I have no doubt there were sparkling wine cups on the table and many rich dainties were there. But Jesus Christ did not care for the wine, nor for the banquet. What did He care for, then? That poor woman’s love was much better to Him than wine.
He could say to Simon the Pharisee, if He had chosen, “Simon, put away your wine cups, take away your dainties. This is My feast, the feast of My people’s love.” I told you also that wine was used as an emblem of refresh- ment. Now, our Savior has often been refreshed by His people’s love. “No,” says one, “that cannot be.” Yes! You remember once He was weary and thirsty and sat upon the well of Samaria? He needed wine then, indeed, to refresh Him, but He could not get so much as a drop of water. He spoke to a woman whom He had loved from before all worlds—He put new life into her—and she at once desired to give Him drink. But she ran away first to tell the Samaritans what she had heard. Now the Savior was so delighted at her wishing to do good, that when His disciples came, they expected to find Him fainting, for He had walked many a weary mile that day. When they saw Him, though, they said, “Where did He get meat?” And Jesus said, “I have meat to eat that you know not of.”
It was that woman’s love that had fed Him. He had broken her heart, He had won her to Himself and when He saw the tears roll from her eyes and knew that her heart was set upon Him, His spirits all revived and His poor flagging strength grew strong. It was this that encouraged Him. No, I will go farther—when Christ went to His Cross there was one thing that cheered Him even in the agonies of death—it was the thought of His people’s love. Are we not told by the Apostle Paul in the Hebrews, that our blessed and Divine Husband, the Lord Jesus, “for the joy that was set before Him, endured the Cross, despising the shame?” What was that joy? Why, the joy that He should see His seed and that seed should love Him and that He should have His love written in their hearts, in remembrance of His dying pains and agonies.
Jesus was cheered, even in His death agonies, by the thought of the love of His people. When the bulls of Bashan roared upon Him and the dogs bayed Him. When the sun was put out in darkness, when His Father’s hand was heavy upon Him—when the legions of Hell compassed Him, when the pangs of body and the tortures of spirit all beset him—it was this that cheered Him, “My people, they are dear to Me, for them I stretch these bleeding hands. For them shall this heart be pierced, and oh, how they will love Me, how they will love Me on earth! How they will love Me spiritually in Para- dise!” This was the wine the Savior had to drink—this was the cup of His de- lightful joy that made Him bear all these pains without a murmuring. And this was the meaning of these words of Jesus—“How much better is your love than wine!”
Pause here, my Soul, to contemplate a moment and let your joy rest awhile. Jesus Christ has banquets in Heaven such as we have never yet tasted—and yet He does not feed there. He has wines in Heaven richer far than all the grapes of Eshcol could produce, but where dose He seek His wine? In our hearts, my Friends, in our hearts. Not all the love of angels, nor all the joys of Paradise are so dear to Him as the love of His poor people, sprinkled with sin and compassed with infirmity. Is not that a thought! I may preach about it, but I can only speak it to you—read it, mark it, learn it and inwardly digest it. And oh, if you saw Him standing here tonight and looking into your eyes and saying to you personally—“You love Me, I know that you love Me, your love is to Me better far than wine”—would you not fall at His feet and say, “Lord, is my love so sweet to You? Then shame upon me that I should give You so little of it.” And then you would break out into the Song of Krishnu, which we sung this morning—
“O now, my Soul, forget no more The Lord who all the misery bore, Nor Him forget who left His throne, And for your life gave up His own.”
C H Spurgeon