The Best Beloved

"Yes, he is altogether lovely."

Song of Solomon 5:16

No words can ever express the gratitude we owe to Him who loved us even when we were dead in trespasses and sins. The love of Jesus is unutterably precious and worthy of daily praise. No songs can ever fitly celebrate the triumphs of that salvation which he wrought single-handed on our behalf: The work of Jesus is glorious beyond all comparison, and all the harps of angels fall short of its worthy honor.

Yet I do believe, and my heart prompts me to say so, that the highest praise of every ransomed soul and of the entire Christian church should be offered to the blessed person of Jesus Christ, our adorable Lord. The love of his heart is excelled by the heart which gave forth that love, and the wonders of his hand are outdone by the hand itself, which wrought those godlike miracles of grace. We ought to bless him for what he has done for us as Mediator in the place of humble service under the law, and for what he suffered for us as Substitute on the altar of sacrifice from before the foundation of the world; and for what he is doing for us as Advocate in the place of highest honor at the right hand of the Majesty on high.

But still, the best thing about Christ is Christ himself. We prize his bounty to us, but we worship him. His gifts are valued, but he himself is adored. While we contemplate, with mingled feelings of awe, admiration, and thankfulness, his atonement, his resurrection, his glory in heaven, and his second coming, still it is Christ himself, stupendous in his dignity as the Son of God, and superbly beautiful as the Son of man, who sheds an incomparable charm on all those wonderful achievements, wherein his might and his merit, his goodness and his grace appear so conspicuous. For him let our choicest spices be reserved, and to him let our sweetest anthems be raised. Our choicest ointment must be poured upon his head, and for his own self alone our most costly alabaster boxes must be broken.

"He is altogether lovely." Not only is his teaching attractive, his doctrine persuasive, his life irreproachable, his character enchanting, and his work a self-denying labor for the common good of all his people, but he himself is altogether lovely. I suppose at first we shall always begin to love him because he first loved us and even to the last, his love to us will always be the strongest motive of our affection towards him; still there ought to be added to this another reason less connected with ourselves, and more entirely arising out of his own superlative excellence; we ought to love him because he is lovely and deserves to he loved.

The time should come, and with some of us it has come, when we can heartily say "we love him because we cannot help it, for his all-conquering loveliness has quite ravished our hearts." Surely it is but an unripe fruit to love him merely for the 'benefits' which we have received at his hand. It is a fruit of grace, but it is not of the ripest flavor; at least, there are other fruits, both new and old, which we have laid up for you, O our beloved, and some of them have a daintier taste.

There is a sweet and mellow fruit which can only be brought forth by the summer sun of fellowship-love because of the Redeemer's intrinsic goodness and personal sweetness, Oh that we might love our Lord for his own sake, love him because he is so supremely beautiful that a glimpse of him has won our hearts, and made him dearer to our eyes than light, Oh that all true and faithful disciples of our beloved Lord would press forward towards that state of affection, and never rest until they reach it!

If any of you have not reached it, you need not therefore doubt your own safety, for whatever the reason why you love Jesus, if you love him at all, it is a sure pledge and token that he loves you, and that you are saved in him with an everlasting salvation. Still covet earnestly the best gifts, and rise to the highest degree of devotion. Love him as the purest of the saints have loved; love as John the apostle loved, for still your Lord exceeds all the loving homage you can pay to him. Love his person, love himself; for 'he himself' is better than all that he has done or given; and as from himself all blessings flow, so back to himself should all love return.

Our text tells us that Christ is 'altogether lovely'. What a wealth of thought and feeling is contained in that exclamation! I am embarrassed to know how to preach on such a subject, and half inclined to wish it had not been laid so much upon my heart. What, I ask you, what is loveliness? To 'discern' it is one thing, but it is quite another thing to 'describe' it. There is not one among us but knows how to appreciate beauty, and to be enamored of its attractions; but how many here could tell us what it is?

Stand up, my brother, and define it. Perhaps while you were sitting down you thought you could easily tell the tale, but now you are on your feet you find that it is not quite so easy to clothe in words the thoughts which floated through your brain. What is beauty? Cold-blooded word-mongers answer, 'fitness'. And certainly there is fitness in all loveliness. But do not tell me that beauty is mere fitness, for I have seen a world of fitness in this world which, nevertheless, seemed to me to be inexpressibly ugly and unlovable.

A wise man tells me that beauty is 'proportion'; but neither is this a full description by many a league. No doubt it is desirable that the features should be well balanced; the eyes should be fitly set, no one feature should be exaggerated, and none should be dwarfed.

"In nature what affects our hearts,
Is not the exactness of peculiar parts:
'TIS not a lip nor eye we beauty call,
But the joint force and full result of all."

'Harmony' is beauty. Yet I have seen the chiseled marble, fashioned with skillful are into a well-near perfect form, which did not, could not, impress me with a sense of loveliness. There stands in one of the halls of the Vatican a statue of Antinous. Every feature in that statue is perfect in itself, and in complete harmony with all the rest. You could not find the slightest fault with eye or nose or mouth. It is indeed as much the ideal of male beauty as the Venus is of female charms, yet no one could ever have been enchanted with the statue, or have felt affection to the form which it represents. There is no expression whatever in the features. Everything is so adjusted and proportioned that you want a divergence to relieve you. The material is so carefully measured out that there needs a stir, a break in the harmony to give at least some semblance of a soul. Beauty, then, consists not in mere harmony, nor in balancing the features.

Loveliness surely is 'attractiveness'. Yes, but that is another way of saying you do not know what it is. It is a something that attracts you, and constrains you to exclaim, "Nothing under heaven so strongly does allure." We feel its power, we become its slaves; but we cannot write with pen of cold steel, nor could we write even with a pen of lightning, a description of what it is. How, then, can I-enamored, entranced, enraptured as I am with him whom my soul loves- how can I speak of him? He is altogether lovely! Where shall I find words, terms, expressions that shall fitly set him forth? Unless the Eternal Spirit shall upraise me out of myself I must forever be incapable of setting forth the Well-beloved.

Besides, were I baffled by nothing else, there is this, that the beauty of Christ is 'mysterious'. It surpasses all the loveliness of human form. He may have had great beauty according to the flesh. That I cannot tell, but I should imagine that such a perfect soul as his must have inhabited a perfectly molded body. Never yet did you or I gaze with satisfaction upon the work of any painter who has tried to picture our Lord Jesus Christ. We have not blamed the great masters, but we have felt that the theme surpassed their powers. How could they photograph the sun? The loftiest conceptions of great artists in this case fall far short of the mark.

When the brightness of the Father's glory is the subject, the canvas glows in vain. 'Are' sits at her easel and produces diligently many a draught of the sacred features; but they are all failures, and they must be. Who shall ever depict Emmanuel, God-with-us? I suppose that, by-and-by, when our Lord had entered upon his active life, and encountered its struggles, his youthful beauty was marred with lines of sadness and sorrow. Still his courage so overshadowed his cares, the mercy he showed so surpassed the misery he shared, and the grace he dispensed so exceeded the griefs that he carried, that a halo of real glory must ever have shone around his brow. His countenance must still have been lovely even when surrounded with the clouds of care and grief. How can we describe even the marred visage? It is a great mystery, but a sure fact, that in our Lord's marred countenance his beauty is best seen. 'Anguish' gave him a loveliness which else he had not reached. His passion put the finishing touch upon his unrivaled loveliness.

But, brethren, I am not about to speak of Christ's loveliness after the flesh, for now after the flesh we know him no more. It is his moral and spiritual beauty, of which the spouse in the song most sweetly says, "Yes, he is altogether lovely." The loveliness which the eye dotes on is mere varnish when compared with that which dwells in virtue and holiness; the worm will devour the loveliness of all skin and flesh, but a lovely character will endure forever.

I. THIS IS RARE PRAISE. Let that be our first head. This is rare praise. What if I say it is 'unique'? For of no other being could it be said, "Yes, he is altogether lovely."

It means, first, that 'ALL that is in him is lovely, perfectly lovely'. There is no point in our Lord Jesus that you could improve. To paint the rose were to spoil its ruddy hue. To tint the lily, for he is lily as well as rose, were to mar its whiteness. Each virtue in our Lord is there in a state of absolute perfection: it could not be more fully developed.

If you were able to conceive of every virtue at its ripest stage it would be found in him. In the matter of transparent ingenuousness and sterling honesty, did ever man speak or act so truthfully as he? Ask, on the other hand, for sympathizing tenderness and love, was ever any so gentle as Jesus? Do you want reverence to God? how he bows before the Father. Do you want boldness before men? how he beards the Pharisees. You could not better anything which you find in Jesus. Wherever you shall cast your eye it may rest with satisfaction, for the best of the best of the best, is to be seen in him. He is altogether lovely at every separate point, so that the spouse, when she began with his head, descended to his feet, and then lifting her eyes upward again upon a return voyage of delight, she looked into his countenance and summed up all that she had seen in this one sentence- "He is altogether lovely." This is rare praise.

And he is 'all that is lovely'. In each one of his people you will find something that is lovely- in one there is faith, in another abounding love; in one tenderness, in another courage, but you do not find all good things in any one saint- at least not all of them in full perfection. But you find all virtues in Jesus, and each one of them at its best. If you would take the best quality of one saint, and the best quality of another- yes, the best out of each and all the myriads of his people, you would find no grace or goodness among them all which Jesus does not possess in the fullest degree and in the highest perfection. He combines all the virtues, and gives them all a sweetness over and beyond themselves.

In flowers you have a separate beauty belonging to each- no one flower is just like another, but each one blushes with its own loveliness. But in our Lord these separate and distinct beauties are found united in one. Christ is the posy in which all the beauties of the 'garden of perfection' are bound up.

Each gem has its own radiance- the diamond is not like the ruby, nor the ruby like the emerald. But Christ is that ring in which you have sapphire, ruby, diamond, emerald, set in choice order, so that each one heightens the other's brilliance. Do not look for anything lovely outside of Jesus, for he has all the loveliness. All perfections are in him making up one consummate perfection; and all the loveliness which is to be seen elsewhere is but a reflection of his own unrivaled charms.

In Jesus Christ, this, moreover, is rare praise again- 'there is nothing that is unlovely'. You have a friend whom you greatly admire and fondly esteem, of whom, nevertheless, I doubt not you have often said to yourself in an undertone, "I wish I could take away a little of the rough edge of his manners here and there." You never thought that of Christ. You have observed of one man that he is so bold as to be sometimes rude; and of another that he is so bland and amiable that he is apt to be effeminate. You have said, "That sweetness of his is exceedingly good, but I wish that it were qualified with sterner virtues." But there is nothing to tone down or alter in our divine Lord. He is altogether lovely. Have you not sometimes in describing a friend been obliged to forget, or omit, some rather prominent characteristic when you wished to make a favorable impression of him? You have had to paint him as the artist once painted Oliver Cromwell; the great wart over the eyebrow was purposely left out of the portrait.

Cromwell, you know, said, "Paint me as I am, or not at all." We have, however, often felt that it was kind to leave out the warts when we were talking of those we esteemed, and to whom we would pay a graceful tribute. But there is nothing to leave out in Christ, nothing to hold back, or to guard, or to extenuate. In him is nothing redundant, nothing overgrown. He is altogether lovely! You never need put the finger over the scar in his case, as Apelles did when he painted his hero. No, tell it all out! Reveal the details of his private life and secret thoughts, they need no concealment.

Lay bare the very heart of Christ, for that is the essence of love and loveliness. Speak of his death-wounds, for in his scars there is more beauty than in the uninjured loveliness of any other. And even when he lies dead in the tomb he is more lovely than the immortal angels of God at their best estate. Nothing about our Lord needs to be concealed; even his cross, at which his enemies stumble, is to be daily proclaimed, and it will be seen to be one of his choicest beauties.

Frequently, too, in commending a friend whom you highly appreciated, you have been prone to ask for consideration of his position, and to make excuse for blemishes which you would sincerely persuade us are less actual than apparent. You have remarked how admirably he acts considering his surroundings. Conscious that someone would hint at an imperfection, you have anticipated the current of conversation by alluding to the circumstances which rendered it so hard for your friend to act commendably. You have felt the need of showing that others influenced him, or that infirmity restrained him.

But did you ever feel inclined to apologize for Christ? Did he not always stand unbending beneath life's pressure, upright and unmoved amid the storms and tempests of an evil world? The vilest calumnies have been uttered against him, in the age just past, which produced creatures similar to Thomas Paine, but they never required an answer; and as for the more refined attacks of our modern skepticism, they are for the most part unworthy even of contempt. They fall beneath the glance of truth, withered by the glance of the eye of honesty.

We never feel concerned to vindicate the character of Jesus; we know it to be safe against all comers. No man has been able to conjure up an accusation against Jesus. They seek false witnesses, but their testimony agrees not together. The sharp arrows of slander fall blunted from the shield of his perfectness. Oh, no; he is altogether lovely in this sense- that there is nothing whatever in him that is not lovely.

You may look, and look, and look again, but there is nothing in him that will not bear scrutiny world without end. Taking the Lord Jesus Christ as a whole- this is what our text intends to tell us- he is inexpressibly lovely- altogether lovely. The words are packed as tightly as they can be, but the meaning is greater than the words.

Some translate the passage "He is all desires," and it is a good translation too, and contains a grand truth. Christ is so lovely that all you can desire of loveliness is in him; and even if you were to sit down and task your imagination and burden your understanding to contrive, to invent, to fashion the ideal of something that should be matchless- ay (to utter a paradox) if you could labor to conceive something which should be inconceivably lovely, yet still you would not reach to the perfection of Christ Jesus. He is above, not only all we think, but all we dream of! Do you all believe this? Dear hearers, do you think of Jesus in this fashion? We speak that we do know, and testify that we have seen. But no man among you will receive our witness until he can say, "I also have seen him, and having seen him, I set to my seal that he is altogether lovely."

II. And now, secondly, as this is rare praise, so likewise IT IS PERPETUAL PRAISE. You may say of Christ 'whenever' you look at him, "Yes, he is altogether lovely." He always was so. As God over all, he is blessed for ever, Amen. When in addition to his godhead, he assumed our mortal clay, was he not incomparably lovely then? The babe in Bethlehem was the most beautiful sight that ever the world beheld. No fairer flower ever bloomed in the garden of creation than the mind of that youth of Nazareth gradually unfolding, as he "grew, and waxed strong in spirit, filled with wisdom: and the grace of God was upon him." All the while he lived on earth, what moral perfections, what noble qualities, what spiritual charms were about his sacred person! His life among men is a succession of charming pictures.

And he was lovely in his 'bitter passion', when as the thick darkness overshadowed his soul he prayed, in an agony of desire, "Not my will, but yours, be done." The bloody sweat did not disfigure, but adorn him. And oh, was he not lovely when he died? Without resentment he interceded for his murderers. His patience, his self-possession, his piety, as "the faithful martyr," have fixed as the meridian of time the hour when he said, "It is finished," and " bowed his head," and "cried with a loud voice, Father, into your hands I commend my spirit." He is lovely in his resurrection from the dead; beyond description lovely. Not a word of accusation did he utter against his cruel persecutors, though he had risen clothed with all power in heaven and in earth. With such tender sympathy did he make himself known to his sorrowing disciples, that despite the waywardness of their unbelief their hearts' instinct told them it was "the same Jesus." He is altogether lovely.

He will be lovely when he comes with solemn pomp, and sound of trumpet, and escort of mighty angels, and brings all his saints who have departed with him, and calls up those that are alive and remain on the earth until his advent, to meet him in the air. Oh, how lovely he will appear to the two throngs who will presently join in one company! How admirable will his appearance be! How eyes, ears, hearts and voices will greet him! With what unanimity the host redeemed by blood will account their highest acclamations as a trivial tribute to his honor and glory! "He is altogether lovely." Yes, and he shall be lovely forever and ever when your eyes and mine shall eternally find their heaven in beholding him. "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, today, and forever," is always worthy of this word of praise- "altogether lovely."

Let us retrace our steps for a minute. The more we study the four gospels, the more charmed we are with the gospel; for as a modern author has well said, "The gospels, like the gospel, are most divine because they are most human." As followers of Jesus, put yourselves with those men who accompanied with him all the time that he went in and out among them; and you shall find him lovely in all conditions. Lovely when he talks to a leper, and touches and heals him; lovely by the bedside when he takes the fever-stricken patient by the hand and heals her; lovely by the wayside, when he greets the blind beggar, puts his finger on his eyes and bids him see; lovely when he stands on the sinking vessel and rebukes the waves; lovely when he meets the bier and rekindles the life that had expired; lovely when he visits the mourners, goes with the sisters of Bethany to the new-made grave, and weeps, and groans, and- majestically lovely- bids the dead come forth. Lovely is he when he rides through the streets of Jerusalem upon a colt, the foal of an donkey. Oh, had we been there, we would have plucked the palm branches, and we would have taken off our garments to strew the way. Hosanna, lovely Prince of Peace!

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