sires, but
there will be a film between your ice and the fire that could melt it,
until that is swept away by the simple act of confidence in God
manifested to you in Jesus Christ. This is Christianity; this, nothing
less, is religion--to love God, because I believe that in Jesus Christ
God has loved me.

And that is the only thing that He desires or accepts. The Religion of
Fear; what is it? 'Thou wert an austere man ... and I was afraid.' Yes!
and what did you do when you were afraid? 'I hid my talent in the
ground,' and was utterly idle. Here rise, on either side of the valley,
two mountains--Ebal and Gerazim. From the one were thundered the curses,
from the other broke the benediction of the blessings; the one is
barren, the other is verdant--'which thing is an allegory.' The Religion
of Fear does nothing, the Religion of Love does all. The Religion of
Self-interest is narrow, poor, mostly inoperative of any lofty
enthusiasm or high nobleness of character. The Religion of Duty; 'I
ought to worship, I am bidden to do this, that, or the other thing,
which I do not a bit like to do. I am forbidden to do this, that, and
the other thing which I should very much like to do, if I durst'--that
religion is the religion of a slave; and there are hosts of us that know
nothing better. And so our Christianity is a feeble and an uncomfortable
thing; and there are little joy, and little subjugation of the will, and
little leaping up of the heart in glad obedience in it. I was talking to
a good, aged man, not long ago, whose religion was of a very gloomy
type. He said to me, 'As to love, I know next to nothing about it.' Ah!
brethren, I am afraid that is true about a good many of us who call
ourselves Christians.

Then let me say, too, that if we love Him, it will be the motive power
and spring of all manner of obediences and glad services. Love is the
mother-tincture, so to speak, which you can colour, and to which you can
add in various ways, and produce variously tinted and tasted and
perfumed commixtures. Love lies at the foundation of all Christian
goodness. It will lead to the subjugation of the will; and that is the
thing that is most of all needed to make a man righteous and pure. So
St. Augustine's paradox, rightly understood, is a magnificent truth,
'Love! and do what you will.' For then you will be sure to will what God
wills, and you ought.

If this be the summing-up of all religion, a practical conclusion
follows.