“Henceforth I call you not servants; for the servant knows not what his lord does; but I have called you friends; for all things that I have heard of my Father I have made known unto you” (John 15:15).
We are in danger on several sides of superficial and shallow conceptions of a religious life. One of these is that it consists in correct doctrinal beliefs, that holding firmly and intelligently to the truths of the gospel about Christ makes one a Christian. Another is the liturgical, that the faithful observance of the forms of worship is the essential element in the Christian life. Still another is that conduct is all, that Christianity is but a system of morality. Then, even among those who fully accept the doctrine of Christ’s atonement for sin, there is ofttimes an inadequate conception of the life of faith, a dependence for salvation upon one great past act of Christ—His death—without forming with Him a personal relation as a present, living Saviour.
In the New Testament the Christian’s relation to Christ is represented as a personal acquaintance with Him, which ripens into a close and tender friendship. This was our Lord’s own ideal of discipleship. He invited men to come to Him, to break other ties, to attach themselves personally to Him, to leave all and go with Him (Matt. 4:19-22; 8:22; 10:37,38). He claimed the full allegiance of men’s hearts and lives:He must be first in their affections and first in their obedience and service; He must “have the preeminence” (Col. 1:18). He offered Himself to men, not merely as a Helper from without, not merely as One who would save them by taking their sins and dying for them, but as One who desired to form with them a close, intimate, and indissoluble friendship. It was not a tie of duty merely, or of obligation, or of doctrine, or of cause, by which He sought to bind His followers to Himself, but a tie of personal friendship.
The importance of this personal knowledge of Christ is seen when we think of Him as the Revealer of the Father (John 1:18; 14:9). The disciples first learned to know Christ with His divine glory veiled. He led them on, talking to them, walking with them, winning their confidence and their love, and at length they learned that the Being who had grown so inexpressibly dear to them was the manifestation of God Himself, and that by their relation to Him as His friends, their poor, sinful humanity was lifted up into union with the Father (Rom. 8:15-17; Eph. 1:5).
But how may we form a personal acquaintance with Christ? It was easy enough for John and Mary and the others who knew Him in the flesh. His eyes looked into theirs; they heard His words, they sat at His feet, or leaned upon His bosom (Luke 10:39; John 13:23; 1 John 1:1-3). We cannot know Christ in this way for He is gone from earth, and we ask how it is possible for us to have more than a biographical acquaintance with Him. If He were a mere man, nothing more than this would be possible. It would be absurd to talk about knowing the apostle John personally, or forming an intimate friendship with the apostle Paul. We may learn much of the characters of these men from the fragments of their stories that are preserved in the Scriptures, but we can never become personally acquainted with them until we meet them in heaven. With Christ, however, it is different. The Church did not lose Him when He ascended from Olivet. He never was more really in the world than He is now. He is as much to those who love Him and believe on Him as He was to His friends in Bethany. He is a present, living Saviour. We may form with Him an actual relation of personal friendship, which will grow closer and tenderer as the years go on, deepening with each new experience, shining more and more in our hearts, until at last, passing through the portal that men misname death, but which really is the beautiful gate of life, we shall see Him face to face, and know Him even as we are known (1 Cor. 13:12; 1 John 3:3).
Is it possible for all Christians to attain this personal, conscious intimacy with Christ? There are some who do not seem to realize it. To them Christ is a creed, a rule of life, an example, a teacher, but not a friend. There are some excellent Christians who seem to know Christ only biographically. They have no experimental knowledge of Him:He is to them at best an absent friend—living, faithful and trusted, but still absent. However, no word of discouragement should be spoken to such. The Old Testament usually goes before the New, in experience as well as in the Biblical order. Most Christians begin with the historical Christ, knowing of Him before they know Him. Conscious personal intimacy with Him is ordinarily a later fruit of spiritual growth; yet it certainly appears from the Scriptures that such intimacy is possible to all who truly believe in Christ. Christ Himself hungers for our friendship, and for recognition by us, and answering affection from us; and if we take His gifts without Himself and His love, we surely rob ourselves of much joy and blessedness.
The way to this experimental knowledge of Christ is very plainly marked out for us by our Lord Himself. He says that if we love Him, and keep His words, He will manifest Himself unto us, and He and His Father will come and make their abode with us (John 14:23). It is in loving Him and doing His will that we learn to know Christ; and we learn to love Him by trusting Him. Ofttimes we learn to know our human friends by trusting them. We may see no special beauty or worth in them as we pass through the ordinary experiences of life. But when we enter into difficult and trying circumstances, then the noble qualities of our true friends appear as we trust them, and they come nearer to us, and prove themselves true. In like manner, most of us really get acquainted with Christ only in experiences of need, in which His love and faithfulness are revealed.
The value of a personal acquaintance with Christ is incalculable. There are men and women whom it is worth a great deal to have as friends. As our intimacy with them ripens, their lives open out like sweet flowers, disclosing rich beauty to our sight, and pouring fragrance upon our spirits. A true and great friendship is one of earth’s richest and best blessings. It is ever breathing songs into our hearts, evoking impulses of good, teaching holy lessons, and shedding all manner of benign influences upon our lives. But the friendship of Christ does infinitely more than this for us. It purifies our sinful lives; it makes us brave and strong; it inspires us ever to the best and noblest service. Its influence woos the most winsome graces out of mind and spirit. The richest, the sweetest, and the only perennial and never failing fountain of good in this world is the personal, experimental knowledge of Christ.
That Christ should condescend thus to give His pure and divine friendship to sinful people like us is the greatest wonder of the world; but there is no doubt of the fact. No human friendship can ever be half so close and intimate as that which the lowliest of us may enjoy with our Saviour. If we but realize our privileges, the enriching that will come to our lives through this glorious relationship will be better than all gold and gems and all human friendships upon this earth.
(From Reiner Publications, Swengel, Pennsylvania.)