Joy Power | Page 3

Some Christians are among the
most depressing and worryful people in the world,--the most difficult to
live with. And some, indeed, have adopted a theory of spiritual ethics
which puts a special value upon unhappiness. The dark, morbid spirit
which mistrusts every joyful feeling, and depreciates every cheerful
virtue, and looks askance upon every happy life as if there must be
something wrong about it, is a departure from the beauty of Christ's
teaching to follow the dark-browed philosophy of the Orient.
The religion of Jesus tells us that cheerful piety is the best piety. There
is something finer than to do right against inclination; and that is to
have an inclination to do right. There is something nobler than reluctant
obedience; and that is joyful obedience. The rank of virtue is not
measured by its disagreeableness, but by its sweetness to the heart that
loves it. The real test of character is joy. For what you rejoice in, that
you love. And what you love, that you are like.

I confess frankly that I have no admiration for the phrase "disinterested
benevolence," to describe the main-spring of Christian morals. I do not
find it in the New Testament: neither the words, nor the thing.
Interested benevolence is what I find there. To do good to others is to
make life interesting and find peace for our own souls. To glorify God
is to enjoy Him. That was the spirit of the first Christians. Was not St.
Paul a happier man than Herod? Did not St. Peter have more joy of his
life than Nero? It is said of the first disciples that they "did eat their
meat with gladness and singleness of heart." Not till that pristine
gladness of life returns will the Church regain her early charm for the
souls of men. Every great revival of Christian power--like those which
came in the times of St. Francis of Assisi and of John Wesley--has been
marked and heralded by a revival of Christian joy.
If we want the Church to be mighty in power to win men, to be a
source of light in the darkness, a fountain of life in the wilderness, we
must remember and renew, in the spirit of Christ, the relation of
religion to human happiness.
II. What, then, are the conditions upon which true happiness depends?
Christ tells us in the text: If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do
them.
This is the blessing with a double if. "If ye know,"--this is the
knowledge which Christ gives to faith. "If ye do,"--this is the obedience
which faith gives to Christ. Knowing and Doing,--these are the twin
pillars, Jachin and Boaz, on which the house of happiness is built. The
harmony of faith and life,--this is the secret of inward joy and power.
You remember when these words were spoken. Christ had knelt to
wash the disciples' feet. Peter, in penitence and self-reproach, had
hesitated to permit this lowly service of Divine love. But Christ
answered by revealing the meaning of His act as a symbol of the
cleansing of the soul from sin. He reminded the disciples of what they
knew by faith,--that He was their Saviour and their Lord. By deed and
by word He called up before them the great spiritual truths which had
given new meaning to their life. He summoned them to live according
to their knowledge, to act upon the truth which they believed.

I am sure that His words sweep out beyond that quiet upper room,
beyond that beautiful incident, to embrace the whole spiritual life. I am
sure that He is revealing to us the secret of happy living which lies at
the very heart of His gospel, when He says: If ye know these things,
happy are ye if ye do them.
i. "If ye know,"--there is, then, a certain kind of knowledge without
which we can not be happy. There are questions arising in human
nature which demand an answer. If it is denied we can not help being
disappointed, restless, and sad. This is the price we have to pay for
being conscious, rational creatures. If we were mere plants or animals
we might go on living through our appointed years in complete
indifference to the origin and meaning of our existence. But within us,
as human beings, there is something that cries out and rebels against
such a blind life. Man is born to ask what things mean. He is possessed
with the idea that there is a significance in the world beyond that which
meets his senses.
John Fiske has brought out this fact very clearly in his last book,
Through Nature to God. He shows that "in the morning twilight of
existence the Human Soul vaguely reached forth toward