03.03 The nature of the sacrifice
III. THE NATURE OF THE SACRIFICE The nature of the Christian sacrifice is also explained. It is so sure of the supreme worth of its object that it is eager and even joyful. It is expressly said of the man who found the treasure that “in his joy he goeth and selleth all that he hath.” If a man has really come to see and know the worth of the Gospel that it does bring “salvation,” that sense of inner Tightness in relation to God and self and the world, which alone can satisfy his life then the sacrifices which he makes to secure it are lifted and lightened by a certain joyful ardour. Sacrifice of some sort there must be in all human life: it arouses either willing acceptance or grudging submission. But even the willing sacrifice has two kinds. It may be that which bends the head, and shuts the lips, and steels itself to bear in a proud acknowledgment of the inevitable. It soeaks in the pathetic words of Matthew Arnold, bidding us “Waive all claim to bliss and try to bear; With close-lipped patience for our only friend, Sad patience too near neighbour to despair.” But there is also the sacrifice which is borne and even welcomed because it is sustained by an uplifting trust in the motives of the Power which asks for it, and in the issue towards which it tends. It is always true that “he who saves his life shall lose it”, it is not always true that “he who loses his life shall save it.” For he must know and trust the ultimate meaning of his loss. Our Lord’s promise is, “He who loses his life for My sake and the Gospel’s shall save it.”
These additional words take the blindness and the bitterness out of sacrifice. S. Augustine found this true in his experience, “How delightful did it suddenly become to me to lack all frivolous delights, and those which I had feared to lose it was now a joy to forego. For Thou didst cast them from me who art the true and highest delight. Thou didst cast them from me and enter in their place Who art sweeter than every pleasure.” Sometimes, indeed, the actual pain of the sacrifice is not spared.
Jesus Himself felt it keenly. But the spirit is sustained by the joy of the issue. It is said of Jesus that “for the joy that was set before Him He endured the cross, despising the shame.” Never without struggle can the Kingdom of Heaven be attained: it is “the violent” who press into it. To the outward observer the strain may seem hard and severe, but he who knows and trusts what he is seeking will find increasingly that his faith, his sureness about the worth of it all, lifts the weight of his burden and lights the darkness of the way, and brings even joy into the sacrifice. The spirit stands erect even when the head is bowed, and the cross of the Christian, like the cross of Christ, becomes a throne. So far the two parables teach a common lesson. But there is a significant difference between them, which almost all commentators have noticed. In the first, the treasure is suddenly and unexpectedly discovered by the labourer as he is at work in the field. In the second, the pearl of great price is the reward of the merchantman’s long and eager search. The parables thus illustrate the two chief ways in which the Kingdom of Heaven comes to men. Let us therefore consider very shortly each parable by itself.
TAGS: [Parables]
