What Is Love? Part 2: The Spirit of Christ and the Spirit of Jonah

Sometimes when I hear Christians speak about the world, I am reminded of Jesus' words to the disciples. Repulsed by the hardness of the Samaritans, they asked Jesus if they should call down fire from heaven. And Jesus replied simply, "Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of. For the Son of man is not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them."

There are, of course, certain things we are against, and things which we should abhor. But it is too often the case that our attitude and posture toward the thing become our attitude and posture toward the person. Out of a sense of personal disgust, animosity, or disdain, we would like fire to come down and consume them. We no longer see hell merely as a judicial necessity, but as an end for the wicked that we almost relish. In some cases, we no longer see the sinner as an object of compassion, pity, and mercy, but as the deserved object of our disgust, ridicule, and even hate. Because they deserve the torments of eternal hell, nothing they suffer in this world can be too bad for them. And even if we do not wish the worst of these things upon them, we would hardly pity them if they did. To such Christians Jesus would say, "Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of."

I understand that God hates evil, and yet He loves the world. And while the hostility of some believers toward sinners may bear the marks of self-righteousness and personal malice, God's hatred of evil is a righteous opposition to all that is contrary to His goodness, not an expression of sinful malice, pride, or vindictiveness.

But how does this spirit of hostility toward sinners reveal itself in practice?

I see it in at least five ways.

First, the use of pejoratives. Some Christian leaders use terms like fa****, tra****, “libtards,” and “homo.” This is inexcusable. When we mock sinners with contempt, we sound more like their accuser than their Saviour. Satan would insult them and drive them to despair; Jesus tells them what they are to Him. Instead of words designed to repel, He speaks words of invitation and welcome.

Second, an emphasis on the penal or purgative aspect of discipline. Sometimes churches are swift and ruthless in their judgments. Some speak of discipline in terms that emphasize the church's disgust with sin more than its concern for the one being disciplined. In fact, while discipline may result in a purer church, its aim is the salvation of the one disciplined. They are to be repeatedly entreated, even with tears, before finally being handed over to Satan—if they remain unrepentant—for the destruction of the flesh and the salvation of the soul (1 Corinthians 5:5). We watch and pray for their return, and because we love them, we are always on guard lest they be swallowed up with overmuch sorrow (2 Corinthians 2:7).

Third, preaching and evangelism that emphasize law and judgment over against the gospel of the glory of Christ.* I know that the Church has sometimes been imbalanced in its emphasis on the love of God, but many have fallen into the opposite ditch. By thundering the law week after week and warning sinners of the judgment to come, they heap up burdens upon the people and yet only rarely, if ever, really preach Jesus. Like the Greeks who came to Philip, the cry of the people is, “Sir, we would see Jesus.” But too often they are shown, instead, their sin, the law, and the coming judgment. The law has its place. It exposes sin and drives us to Christ. But it was never intended to be our theme. Its purpose is to bring sinners to the Saviour. The preacher’s task is not merely to expose the sinner, but to preach Jesus.

Fourth, a methodology that underestimates the power of the gospel. I have noticed a growing interest in political efforts. Many seem inclined to go down to Egypt or to put their trust in princes, horses, and chariots. That is increasingly common in America. In some places I have also seen too much confidence placed in the law.  But the solution is not found in politics or law.  It is found rather in the gospel and the love of Christ. Christian leaders make a fatal mistake when they lose sight of the constraining power of the love, glory, and beauty of Christ Himself. It is the preaching of Jesus Christ and Him crucified that melts the hardened hearts of sinners and sets the captives free.

Fifth, an emphasis on justice that neglects mercy. In fact, in some circles mercy is often suspected as weakness, whereas justice is seen as strength. The irony is that God repeatedly emphasizes His own mercy, specifically blesses the merciful, and pronounces woes against those who neglect mercy.

Which brings me to Jonah.

We aren't told much about Jonah or his reasons for fleeing when God told him to go to Nineveh. Did he have a personal dislike for them? Was there something personal? All we know is that he suspected what would happen if he delivered the message. Because, as he put it,

"I knew that thou art a gracious God, and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness, and repentest thee of the evil." (Jonah 4:2)

So what exactly was Jonah's problem? It wasn't the law. It wasn't God's holiness or justice. It wasn't a lack of hate. I suspect his hatred for sin was very great. His problem was love—specifically God's love for people who disgusted him.** He could get behind God's justice and judgment, but he couldn't get behind God's grace and mercy. He would have been happy with fire from heaven, but was frustrated by God's great kindness. Could it be that Jonah himself lacked the very kindness, grace, and mercy that he resented in God?

Which raises a question every Christian leader should answer: Do I have the spirit of Jonah or the spirit of Christ? Am I for kindness, grace, and mercy, or am I frustrated by them? Am I relishing coming judgment or praying for grace? Do I want them to get what they deserve, or do I pray that God might repent of the evil? What exactly is my posture toward people like the Ninevites?

I do believe that genuine love abhors what is evil. In other words, there ought to be in each of us a fixed moral opposition to evil. Indeed, God hates evil. But isn't it noteworthy that the Bible nowhere says, "For God so hated the world," nor does it say that God is hate. No, even in that moment when men were perpetrating the worst evil ever committed, Jesus was saying, "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do."

And consider God's concluding words to Jonah. Jonah pitied a plant. How like us in that! And yet notice what God said:

"And should not I spare Nineveh, that great city, wherein are more than sixscore thousand persons that cannot discern between their right hand and their left hand; and also much cattle?" (Jonah 4:11)

What sympathy and condescension! God speaks of His own pity for the people of Nineveh. He points to their inability to discern between their right hand and their left, as though they do not know any better. Jonah saw a wicked city deserving judgment. God saw a city full of people to be pitied.

Shouldn't that be our posture? If He is love, should we not seek to imitate Him in that? If He loves the world, should we not be known by our love for sinners? He pleads their ignorance and takes pity on a wicked city. Should we not also be inclined to pity the worst of sinners, recognizing that there is a sense in which they do not know what they are doing?

Nor is this emphasis on love a modern innovation. It has long been a hallmark of Christian teaching. Thomas Watson called love "the queen of graces" and repeatedly spoke of it as the grace that adorns and beautifies the Christian life. Jonathan Edwards argued in Religious Affections that "the essence of all true religion lies in holy love." He further wrote that "the spirit of charity, or Christian love, is the opposite of an angry spirit." Elsewhere he warned that "a spirit of hatred and bitterness is contrary to the spirit of Christianity." By contrast, he said that "Christian love is a spirit of meekness, gentleness, forgiveness and mercy." 

Richard Baxter likewise warned against "wrath and bitterness of spirit" as things contrary to Christian love.  Instead he urged, "If you have the heart of a Christian or of a man, let it yearn towards your ignorant, ungodly neighbors."  In The Reformed Pastor he asked, "Will you not pity one that must be shut out from the presence of the Lord, and lie under his remediless wrath...?"  And then he added, "Oh what a heart is it that will not pity such a one!" 

My hope and prayer is that once again Christians will be known for their mercy, compassion, and love; that instead of hostility and hate, we will be adorned with that queen of graces; and that, like our Saviour, we will be moved to pity rather than contempt, and to mercy rather than judgment.

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* I have noted elsewhere that I, too, have been guilty of this same imbalance.

 

For Part 1 go here.