Joseph Carroll emphasizes the profound experience of abiding in Christ, illustrating how true love for God leads to selflessness and a life dedicated to serving others. He recounts the story of a High Court justice in India who, after finding Christ, devoted his life to ministering to the Untouchables, highlighting the cost of true discipleship. Carroll explains that abiding in Christ requires total submission and faith, allowing believers to experience the fullness of God's love and joy. He stresses that faith is not merely belief but a restful trust in Christ's faithfulness, which transforms one's life into a vessel of love for others. Ultimately, the sermon calls for a life lived for Christ and others, rooted in the understanding of our oneness with Him.

Father, we thank Thee for the possibility of experiencing the love of Christ which passeth knowledge, that we might be filled with all the fullness of God. We thank Thee that Thy ways are not our ways, neither Thy thoughts our thoughts. And we ask that with yielded hearts and opened ears we shall set independence on Thy Spirit to reveal Thy way to us. And we know, dear Father, that Thy Son is the way. Will you not lead us into a fuller fellowship with Him by the Spirit of God, to the end that He might be satisfied with us, and Thy great name glorified. In this we pray with thanksgiving in Jesus' name. Amen. I want to add a little P.S. to the message last evening. Preparing this morning, an illustration kept coming to me. I want to share it with you. When India received her independence from Britain, a great transformation took place in India because the Untouchables were given their freedom. And one of the leader of the Untouchables, a man who is a leader of several millions of Untouchables, decided that they would seek another religion. And so he traveled the world, took a considerable amount of time to examine alternate religions. And he came back to India and somebody asked him, are you going to decide for Christianity? He said Christianity is vastly superior to any other religion. If only one could find a Christian. The Indians take their religion rather seriously. There was an occasion when a small boy, the son of a high caste family, was bathing in a river and he was being watched by a low caste servant. He got into trouble in the water and his father was on the bank and the Untouchable servant went to help the boy. And the father shouted at him, don't touch him. And the boy drowned. He would rather have the boy drown than be touched by the Untouchable. So they take their religion rather seriously. There are those who will prostrate themselves length by length by length for hundreds of miles to arrive at a place of pilgrimage. They're rather serious. And so the leader said, if only one could find a Christian. Well, had he lived earlier in India, he would have found one such. He was one of the justices on the High Court of India, which is the equivalent of the Supreme Court of the United States. But in those days, in the last century, a justice on that High Court, I can assure you, was somebody. He would be the equivalent of a prince and more than a prince of the royal household to the Indian, almost a god. And one day in the city of Calcutta, he came across a little Salvation Army band and he stood and he listened to their preaching and he was converted. Wonderfully saved there on the street. Well, what did he do? He resigned from the High Court of India. He returned to England and entered a Salvation Army training station from the High Court of India to the Salvation Army. When he graduated, he went back to India to minister to the untouchables so that he dressed as they dressed, he ate what they ate, and he went without shoes for the rest of his life. He became an untouchable and won tens of thousands to those untouchables to the Lord. And we say, what a sacrifice. From the High Court of India to an untouchable. But how many times must we multiply his experience to even begin to comprehend in some small measure what it cost our Lord to come down to this earth and to identify himself with sin. It is beyond our comprehension, but we know it is so. Identification, that's a very important word. The Son of God identified himself with me, therefore he had to become sin. And God in his love for the sinner made him to be sin, even though it meant the separation of the son from the father on the cross. The father committed himself to becoming sin. This is the love of God. And the son, because he loved the father, submitted himself to the will of the father, even though it meant becoming that. Therefore, if I say, I love my Lord, can there be any reserve in my little surrender? It's ludicrous. How do we know the father loves sinners? He gave his son. Without anything in return, because he doesn't need anything. That's love. Giving, expecting, wanting, nothing in return. That's the love of God. And if the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts, and it is, then his love will be manifest through me by the Spirit to others. In other words, a selfless love, a love that's always seeking the felicity of another, never my own satisfaction. That's the love of God. And that's the love that is manifest in a person who truly loves his Lord. He becomes increasingly unmindful of self. So that we can sum up the life of our Lord, and we can sum up the life of any true follower of Jesus Christ in one word, it's others. Others. Just one word, others. Our Lord lived to do the will of his father, and to become the servant of those to whom his father sent him. He lived for others. And as Christ is formed in an individual by the Spirit of God, so you find that person becoming more and more selfless, more and more concerned about his own well-being, what he will do, where he will live, what he will eat, where he will go, nothing. No. He's identified with others. And without that, we cannot experience the love of Christ. Because love demands a love of its kind. And in the 10th verse of that 15th chapter, If ye keep my commandments, ye shall abide in my love. Now love is an experience. Love is an experience. If you love, you know it. If two people love each other, they know it. It's an experience. Somewhat undefinable, but you know it. Our Lord experienced the love of his father. And what was the result? He was filled with joy. Verse 11, These things have I spoken unto you, that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy might be full. So here we have the reward of true love. What is it? Well, it's joy. The true lover of Christ is filled with joy. Why? Because he's conscious of being loved by his Lord. And so nothing else really matters in life. His security is in his consciousness of being loved by his Lord. Nothing else matters. So the condition? Submission to the one you love for their sake. It's rather simple, isn't it? This was the life of our Lord. Submission to his father because he loved the father. And because he loved the father and proved it by his submission to him, his father loved him. And he experienced his father's love. He was abiding in his father's love at all times. And therefore he's filled with joy. Even before the cross he said, My joy, no man taketh from me. No man. Now, we're introduced to this life by faith. It's a life of faith. And it's what has been called a faith-rest life. A faith-rest life. Because when you are submitted to another for their sake, then in the experience of our fellowship with Jesus Christ, he then becomes accountable for us as the master with the servant. Although we find here that he doesn't call us servants. He doesn't say that we are not servants. But he doesn't call us servants, he calls us friends. Now what a tremendous privilege that is. To be the friend of Jesus Christ. What a privilege. So the life he wants to lead you into is a conscious experience of his love and fellowship with him as a friend. You say, oh well, I think the love is the greatest. Well, of course it is. But friendship is a fruit of love. For instance, if you ask most married couples, not all, but most married couples who have been married perhaps 20, 30, 35, 40 years, what is the biggest thing in their marriage? Invariably, or at least this is what I find in counseling with people, they would say companionship. In other words, friendship. Very often this will be the answer in the majority of cases. Oneness, the ability to share acceptance by a friend without questioning. Companionship. The ability to share the burdens of your heart and your soul knowing you will be understood and accepted, even though you could be wrong. Friendship, loyalty, companionship. That's what the Lord is offering here. It's one of the fruits of love. It's friendship, loyalty, companionship. So it's not something ethereal out there, or indefinable out there, it's very real. What our Lord is offering you is the opportunity to walk with him as a friend for the rest of your life. That's quite an offer. And you know what the devil is going to do? He's going to tell you, what's it going to cost you? Well, it won't cost you anything you shouldn't have. It won't cost you any plan you shouldn't have, or any desire you shouldn't have. But that's what our Lord offers us. He offers us his love and his friendship. But first of all, there must be the total submission of the will of the heart to the one we love, in order that henceforth we might live by faith in him. Because faith is the element, faith is the element in which the believer operates restfully. So right at the heart, as we've seen by the definitions of this abiding life, is faith. The disciple must set his life in Christ. Christ is his life, Christ is his all, the center and the circumference of his life. He must set his life in Christ, and what? Derive all from Christ by the inward aspiration of faith. Or as Westcott says, he must let Christ live in him. Must let Christ live in him. Or the hymn writer, come and live in me. Come and live in me. But there can be no conflict of wills if he's to live in me. So that this life is a life of what? Faith in the one to whom I am submitted. That's simple, isn't it? Our Lord's life was a life of faith in the one to whom he was submitted, to the Father. Never a moment was that fellowship broken by the slightest cloud. So that his life was what? One of submission to the Father and therefore one of faith in the Father. In my submission to my Lord, how am I then going to live? I'm going to live by faith in him. Now, that will not mean faith in my faith in him. Let's get that straight. In other words, when I'm speaking about living by faith, I'm not speaking about faith in my faith. So that my victorious living today and abiding in Christ depends upon my faith. No, I must have faith in his faithfulness. My faith is in his faithfulness, not my faith. If you only have faith in your faith, you're going to get into trouble fast and stay there. But faith in his faithfulness, as he has revealed himself to be to me in his word. He will keep his word. It cannot be broken. He watches over his word to perform it. Everything he says in that word he will do, he will do, if you believe, in his faithfulness to keep his word. He'll do it. So this life, at very rock bottom, is a life of faith. That's the key to the whole thing. But I cannot have faith in him unless I'm totally submitted to him. For example, many years ago we had the happy experience of having the family when the girls were quite small. I think Anna was two and Elizabeth was three. And we were in Hong Kong. I'd just finished ministering at a convention in Hong Kong. So my wife and I decided that we would go out to Cheung Chau Island where three or four years before that, or more, five or six years, we had spent our honeymoon. So we went back to Cheung Chau with the two little girls and settled in. Very quiet spot, not many people there. And we went down to a little bay one morning, a little sheltered bay, very quiet water. And we walked down. The little girls with their buckets and spades and Mummy and Daddy. And Mabel just walked straight into the water and floated away. Just lay back on the water and away she floated. So Daddy walked into the water about up to his chest and stayed there. So the little girls said, Daddy, float. Float, Daddy. Well, Daddy doesn't float. Go on, float, Daddy, float. Mummy's floating, why don't you float? I don't float. Can't float. When I was young I almost drowned three times. I still have, in some respects, a fear of water. Never quite lost it. So I can't float because I have never learned to commit myself trustfully to water. My wife has. Just walks into the water, onto her back, away she goes. But if she got tense, she too would not float. She must be perfectly relaxed. She must have total confidence in that water to keep her on top. But let her get tense and afraid and she'll sink. She won't float. Now, what is abiding? It's committing yourself restfully to another to uphold you, to support you. That's what it's all about. Committing yourself to another to sustain you and to be all that you need moment by moment. So abiding is not a once for all decision, I'm going to abide. It's an unceasing restful trust in one to provide you every need as you trust him. But as soon as you question or as soon as you stiffen or tighten up, then you cease to abide. Now, when I went out into that bay, I went out as far as I could go with just about my big toe on the bottom. I'm not going to move that toe off the bottom. That's my security. As long as I can feel that sand underneath, I'm a brave man. Now, I'm serious. I won't go out beyond what I can handle. Now, my wife is safer out there floating in the deep water than I am with my foot on the bottom up to my neck because if a wave comes in, I'm in trouble. She'll just float on top of it. My foot on the bottom is my security. Why don't you take your foot off the bottom spiritually? What is your security? What is it? Your security is in a person, period. There are some people who have their security in insurance, possessions, standing, you name it. That's their security. That's what makes them feel comfortable. They're not going to lose that. Oh, no. Jesus Christ is your security, period. Take your foot off. Take your foot off the bottom. Some people's security is in their denomination. I would say that's rather insecure. But it's true. I remember a man in the city of Louisville many years ago and for about an hour and a half, he held forth on everything that was wrong with the denomination. It must have been 30 years ago I heard that man. I've never forgotten it. He really knew what was wrong with that denomination. Somebody said to him, well, why don't you resign? Resign, he said, in three years, I'm going to be eligible for a pension. He hadn't the slightest intention of resigning. What are you in that mess for? Oh, my security. No, we live by faith in the Son of God. It's the only way you can live this life. Committing yourself restfully, trustfully, to the one and the only one who can support you. Spurgeon said, faith is leaning your whole weight on Jesus. That's very simple. We almost say it's rather crude. But it's true. Faith is leaning your whole weight on Jesus. Not some of it, all of it. It's floating again. It's leaning your whole weight on Jesus. I mean all of it. Nothing in reserve. Payton, the great missionary to the South Sea Islanders, was translating the scriptures and he couldn't get a word for faith. He tried, questioned a number of the natives, just couldn't get a word for faith. And then one morning, one of his native helpers had been on a long trek and he came into his grass hut. He was sweating, he was tired, he was exhausted. And he threw himself on a couch and just completely relaxed and almost fell asleep. And then he said to Payton, isn't it wonderful that I can lean my whole weight on this couch and relax? And Payton said, say it again. He had his word for faith. And so his helper repeated the word two or three times. He said, thank you very much, that's my word for faith. What is faith? Leaning my whole weight on Jesus. And resting. So you cannot divorce rest from faith. If I am trusting, I am resting. If I am not resting, I am not trusting. Rest is the evidence of faith. Now let's not try to get round that. If you are trusting, you are resting. You're committing. You're floating. You're resting. There you are. If you're not resting, you're not trusting. And the Spirit of God often says that to me. Are you trusting? Yes. Well, why are you so tense? My shoulder's dropped. Are you really trusting? Are you abiding? If you are, you are resting. Now sometimes the Lord tests me on this. Tests me when I'm preaching. I stand up with a message very carefully prepared, there in my notes. I speak invariably from notes. Because I found when I didn't use notes, I preached for an hour and a half, sometimes two hours. So for the sake of the listeners, I decided to get back to notes. So I keep usually carefully to notes, so that I won't preach for too long. And there are times when I'll stand up here, message carefully prepared, know exactly what I want to say, how I want to say it, where I'm going to finish, when. And then another message will come. Hmm. What are you going to do? The Lord gives you an illustration, never even thought of. He says, all right, start there. So you start there. Where are you going from there? I don't know. But some of the best messages the Lord has ever given me to deliver in his name have come just like that. And so you have to restfully trust the Lord for the next word, for the next point, for the next illustration. Now this is what I find. If for one moment I tense up and wonder where the next word is coming from, it does not come. It doesn't come. You're either abiding or you're not abiding. And if you're abiding, you're restfully trusting. And God is working. God is working. Few would argue with the opinion that Campbell Morgan was the great expositor of the scriptures of this century. And Campbell Morgan on one occasion in his study late at night was preparing a message. And the Lord spoke to him. Now you know when he speaks. He doesn't speak with an audible voice, but you know when he speaks. And he said, Morgan, I want you to burn all your sermons. It was winter. It was sitting by an open fire. And he had hundreds and hundreds of carefully prepared sermons in his files. Burn them. Well, he wrestled with that for hours. Burn them. And this is what the Lord said to him. Are you going to be merely a preacher or my messenger? You know, a man can preach a hundred sermons and never deliver a message. And what did he do? The first ray of dawn saw the last of the sermons in the fire. Burned them up. And ever after that, he would just stand up, take his scripture, and he'd trust the Spirit of God for the word to utter. He learned to abide because there was no alternative. No alternative. Faith is the element in which the believer operates restfully. That's the element in which he's to operate. For example, a fish operates restfully in his element, which is what? Well, it's water. He is created to operate, to live restfully, efficiently, in water. A bird is created to fly in the air. That's the element in which he operates. Put him in the water, he's hopeless. He's not built to operate in the water, but he can fly beautifully in the air. But now you take a fish out of the water, all right? Catch a little fish, roll him in, take him off the hook, put him on the bank. What does he do? He twitches, he gasps, he's out of his element. He's twisting and turning and gasping. He wants to get back into his element. If you leave him out there, he'll die. And he'll die a painful death, asphyxiation. He's out of his element. His element is not air. It'll destroy him. But you pick him up and you put him back in the water and what happens? He immediately ceases to gasp and twitches, away he goes. No problem. Now faith is the element in which God desires his own to operate. It's the only element you can operate restfully in. There is no other provision. It's the only provision. Because life is Christ and if Christ is to manifest himself through me, it's going to be on the basis of my restful trust in him. That's abiding. You cease to trust, you cease to abide. And I'll tell you what happens next. You get tense and you wonder what's going to happen. What can I do about this? Well, you can't do anything. I was flying once from Lebanon to Zurich, Switzerland. And we left Lebanon. We were flying over the Mediterranean. Word came over the intercom that there was a very heavy fog shrouding Zurich and we may not be able to land in Zurich. We may have to divert to London. Well, I was sitting in the plane. Can't do a thing about that. So we kept on flying and flying and suddenly the whole plane was enveloped in fog. Well, I assumed that we were going to London and it's not uncommon to have fog in London. But you couldn't see a thing. The plane was just enveloped in this fog. And then after some hours, I just felt a gentle touch. Well, I didn't know if we'd touched a mountain or if we'd touched a London runway or where we were. But then the plane, the taxi then, came to a stop. It was Zurich. But the captain didn't tell us that we were going to Zurich. He didn't tell us another word. We didn't know where we were going. He didn't tell us. Why? Because coming into Zurich, you've got to come up a valley. You've got to come between mountains. Well, he didn't say a word. But he said we might go to London. But then they decided for Zurich. Well, how did he come in? He came in on a beam. All he had to do was follow that beam. That's all he had to do. He couldn't see a thing. All he had to do was follow the beam. Now, if he's going to rely on his feelings, he's really going to be in trouble because on either side of him he's got mountains. A life of faith is very often just like that. You can't see a thing. But there's no need to panic. Your pilot is in control. And he's right on beam. He knows where you're going. In the early days here, of the work here, we were really hammered by the enemy. And for months, it seemed, at times, we were in nothing but darkness. Fog. We didn't know what was happening, but the pilot was in control. He was just testing us. He's in control. No need to panic. Just sit back in your seat and relax. He'll get you there. Now, that's abiding. You say, well, that's fine for me, but what about my daughter? She's out there. Well, what about your daughter? Restfully trust him for your daughter. What about my wayward son? He's out there. Well, all right. He knows all about your wayward son. Restfully trust him for your wayward son. The Lord does not have any alternative to this. The just shall live by faith. Now, if you want to live, the only way you're going to live, that's by faith. But let's back up a little bit. You're not going to be able to live this life whilst you're living for yourself. I trust that's clear after last evening in our few words concerning what love really is. This life is only for lovers of Christ. It doesn't apply to anybody else. So if you haven't come to the point where you've made up your mind you're not going to love yourself, but you're going to love your Lord, and you're not going to live for yourself, but you're going to live for him, and your life for him is going to be expressed in ministering to others without any thought of their ministering to you, you can forget about abiding. That's impossible. The abiding life is for lovers of Christ, nobody else. Because it's a life lived for his sake and therefore a life that glorifies God. That's why we had to deal with humility, the foundation of humility, that's why we had to deal with selfishness, in order that we might come to a place where we can live by faith. Then we experience what? Well, then we experience the love of Christ. Of all the missionaries in the history of modern missions, there is one man whose name I believe you would agree is above all, and that man is Hudson Taylor. Hudson Taylor is the man we call the father of modern faith missions. He was the pioneer of faith missions. He was out in China for many, many years, defeated. Desirous of serving the Lord? Yes. Earnest? Yes. Committed? Yes. Defeated? Yes. And then he wrote a letter to his sister in which he explained to her the transforming experience that made him into the great leader of modern faith missions. This is what he wrote. He said, As to work, mine was never so plentiful, so responsible, or so difficult, but the weight and strain are all gone. He's floating. You see that? He says, The work, never so plentiful, so responsible, so difficult, but the weight and the strain are all gone. The last month or more has been perhaps the happiest of my life, and I long to tell you a little of what the Lord has done for my soul. I do not know how far I may be able to make myself intelligible about it, for there is nothing new or strange or wonderful, and yet all is new. In a word, whereas I was blind, now I see. Perhaps I shall make myself more clear if I go back a little. Well, dearie, my mind has been greatly exercised for six or eight months past, feeling the need personally and for our mission of more holiness, life, power in ourselves. But personal need stood first and was the greatest. I felt the ingratitude, the danger, the sin of not living nearer to God. I prayed, agonized, fasted, strove, made resolutions, read the word more diligently, sought more for retirement and meditation, but all was without effect. Now he's an honest man. He's fasting, he's praying, he's agonizing, he's making resolutions, he's studying the word more diligently, but nothing works. Have you ever had that experience? I have. It's not the way. The way is a person. Jesus said, I am the way. Isn't it beautiful and simple? He said, I am the way. Now he didn't say a way, he said the way, the only way. No other way. I am the way. Not a way, the way. And this is what Hudson Taylor had to discover, that his answer was a person, Christ himself. And so he goes on to say, every day, almost every hour, the consciousness of sin oppressed me. I knew if I could only abide in Christ, all would be well, but I could not. Each day brought its register of sin and failure, of lack of power. To will was indeed present with me, but how to perform I found not. Then came the question, is there no rescue? Must it be thus to the end? Constant conflict and, instead of victory, too often defeat? Instead of growing stronger, I seem to be getting weaker, and to have less power against sin. And no wonder, for faith and even hope were getting very low. I hated myself, I hated my sin, and yet I gained no strength against it. I felt I was a child of God. His spirit in my heart would cry, in spite of all, Abba, Father. But to rise to my privileges as a child, I was utterly powerless. I would not give you the impression that this was the daily experience of all these long weary months. It was a too frequent state of soul, that toward which I was tending, and which almost ended in despair. And yet never did Christ seem more precious, a Saviour who could and would save such a sinner. And sometimes there were seasons, not only of peace, but of joy in the Lord. But they were transitory, and at best there was a sad lack of power. Oh, how good the Lord was in bringing this conflict to an end. All the time I felt assured that there was in Christ all I needed. But the practical question was how to get it out. He was rich truly, but I was poor. He strong, but I weak. I knew full well that there was in the root, the stem, abundant fullness, but how to get it into my puny little branch was the question. As gradually the light was dawning on me, I saw that faith was the only prerequisite, was the hand to lay hold on His fullness and make it my own. But I had not this faith. I strove for it, but it would not come. Tried to exercise it, but in vain. When my agony of soul was at its height, a sentence in a letter from McCarthy was used to remove the scales from my eyes, and the Spirit of God revealed the truth of our oneness with Jesus as I had never known it before. McCarthy, who had been much exercised by the same sense of failure, but saw the light before I did, wrote, I quote from memory, but how to get faith strengthened, not by striving after faith, but by resting on the faithful one. Not by striving after faith, but by resting on the faithful one. Or, if you like, by floating. As I read, I saw it all. If we believe not, He abideth faithful. I looked to Jesus and saw, and when I saw, oh, how the joy flowed, that He had said, I will never leave you. Ah, there is rest, I thought. I have striven in vain to rest in Him. I'll strive no more. For has He not promised to abide with me, never to leave me, never to fail me, and He never will. But this was not all He showed me, nor one half. As I thought of the vine and the branches, what light the Blessed Spirit poured direct into my soul, how great seemed my mistake in having wished to get the sap, the fullness out of Him. I saw not only that Jesus would never leave me, but that I was a member of His body, of His flesh, and of His bones. The vine now I see is not the root merely but all. Root, stem, branches, twigs, leaves, flowers, fruit. And Jesus is not only that. He is soil and sunshine, air and showers, and ten thousand times more than we have ever dreamed, wished for or needed. Oh, the joy of seeing this truth. What did He see? Well, that Jesus was everything, and He was in Jesus. He was one with Him. Therefore, He was in the vine, and the vine was in Him. They were one. That's what He saw. So He could now rest in the faithfulness of the vine, because He was inseparably one with His Lord. He was in Christ, not two, one. One spirit with His spirit. His life, Hudson Taylor's life. Therefore, He could what? Restfully trust in the faithfulness of the one with whom He was one. That's the key. Do you see it? Oh, my dear sister, it is a wonderful thing to be really one with a risen and exalted Savior, to be a member of Christ. Think what it involves. Can Christ be rich and I poor? Can your right hand be rich and the left poor? Or your head be well fed while your body starves? No fear that His resources will be unequal to the emergency. And His resources are mine, for He is mine, and is with me and dwells in me. All that springs from the believers with oneness in Christ. And since Christ has dwelt in my heart by faith, how happy I have been. Do you see that? Not two, but one. Christ in me and I in Christ. So my faith is in what? In His faithfulness in me. That's all. Very restful. There's no longer dependence upon me. That's why fundamental to all else is the realization that I have nothing. Why try to be something when He's everything? In you. The writer who has meant most to me in my Christian pilgrimage is Henley Mowell. He has a daily statement of faith. In other words, a daily statement which he would utter every morning to his Lord. And right in the heart of it are these words. They've meant a great deal to me. I never lived by them. There is no difficulty inward or outward which he is not ready to meet in me today. There is no difficulty inward or outward which he is not ready to meet in me today. It has nothing to do with my meeting anything but His meeting. Because He is my life. Shall we pray? Father, we thank Thee for the rest of faith in the faithfulness of the faithful one. And this we pray in His precious name. Amen.