_'Keep my love; my Lord, I pour_ _At Thy feet its treasure-store.'_
Not as a mere echo from the morning-gilded shore of Tiberias, but as an ever new, ever sounding note of divinest power, come the familiar words to each of us, 'Lovest thou Me?' He says it who has loved us with an everlasting love. He says it who has died for us. He says it who has washed us from our sins in His own blood. He says it who has waited for our love, waited patiently all through our coldness.
And if by His grace we have said, 'Take my love,' which of us has not felt that part of His very answer has been to make us see how little there was to take, and how little of that little has been kept for Him? And yet we _do_ love Him! He knows that! The very mourning and longing to love Him more proves it. But we want more than that, and so does our Lord.
He has created us to love. We have a sealed treasure of love, which either remains sealed, and then gradually dries up and wastes away, or is unsealed and poured out, and yet is the fuller and not the emptier for the outpouring. The more love we give, the more we have to give. So far it is only natural. But when the Holy Spirit reveals the love of Christ, and sheds abroad the love of God in our hearts, this natural love is penetrated with a new principle as it discovers a new Object. Everything that it beholds in that Object gives it new depth and new colours. As it sees the holiness, the beauty, and the glory, it takes the deep hues of conscious sinfulness, unworthiness, and nothingness. As it sees even a glimpse of the love that passeth knowledge, it takes the glow of wonder and gratitude. And when it sees that love drawing close to its deepest need with blood-purchased pardon, it is intensified and stirred, and there is no more time for weighing and measuring; we must pour it out, all there is of it, with our tears, at the feet that were pierced for love of us.
And what then? Has the flow grown gradually slower and shallower? Has our Lord reason to say, 'My brethren have dealt deceitfully as a brook, and as a stream of brooks they pass away'? It is humiliating to have found that we could not keep on loving Him, as we loved in that remembered hour when 'Thy time was the time of love.' We have proved that we were not able. Let this be only the stepping-stone to proving that He is able!