James declares, that “if any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man.”
This being so, we are right in applying the Lord’s own test to Himself and judging Him by His words, proving if He is indeed “the Perfect Man.” We are fortunate in being able to do so, for there can be no question as to those wonderful words that He spoke. They have been preserved to us by the inspiration of the Spirit of God in the Holy Oracles.
The Simplicity of His Language
Four simple men were used of God to record the history of the One who called Himself the Son of Man, who walked familiarly among men, eating and drinking, and conversing with them. They tell their story in plain straightforward language, each in his own style, expressing no wonder at what they relate, scarcely commenting on what is recorded, but writing as those who narrate what they saw, and tell what they heard.
No one suggests that they have been in collusion. There are too many marks of diversity to allow for that theory; yet it is the same Divine Person who is depicted, who speaks in the same marvelous way. It is impossible to conceive that four ordinary men writing separately could each have invented such a perfect Character or could have put such words into His lips. It is evident that they told what they had seen and heard.
Matthew, the publican; Mark, the servant; Luke, the physician; and John, the fisherman, record for us in a candid and open manner the words of Him who spake as “never man spake.”
The Fewness of His Words
The words themselves, as so recorded, are comparatively few. We have no long dissertations, no elaborate treatises. The longest discourse takes a mere fifteen minutes to read.
The whole of His words could, I suppose, be printed in a pamphlet of sixteen pages, and yet those words are such that they have astounded the whole world, and established His reputation. “The same is a Perfect Man.” More than this, “Truly this was the Son of God.”
There is no spot or blemish in them, no confession of sin, no mistake, no uncertainty, no hesitation. Such terms as “Perhaps,” “I think,” “It is possibly so,” or other evidence of fallibility is not discovered. All is authoritative, calm, and decisive. He spoke as one having authority: “I say unto you.”
The style is perfect. Not a vestige appears of sentimentality, no weak emotion, no plea for pity, no mock heroics, no posing for effect, no lightness or trifling, no irritation or hastiness. There is no dead fly in the ointment to mar His reputation for wisdom.
These four simple writers hold up for admiration nothing that the world gloried in. It is doubtful if they had any intention or thought of depicting a hero or great man–they told a simple story of One whom they had seen and loved, and whose words had reached their hearts.
Let us take the Volume of His words in our hands and look at it. We need not be enthusiasts or devotees, we need bring no prejudice, nor look at it through colored glasses. It bears examination. It seems to say to all: “I speak as to wise men; judge ye what I say” (1 Cor. 10:15). Let us judge this unique volume and notice its contents.
Judge it first from the lowest of men’s standards, as simply literature.
As Ordinary Literature
We discover at once that here is narration un- equalled in the world. Read the parable of the Prodigal Son. It has attained a worldwide notoriety. Note its simple pathos, its powerful appeal to the heart. Tears of thousands have been shed upon the pages. It has turned untold sinners to a new life. In order to test its excellence by comparison, search through all the great writers of the world for something to compare with it for simplicity, dignity, and excellence. In the Greek it contains but 396 words, not one of which could be spared as mere verbiage.
Can Shakespeare, Milton, Dante, Schiller, Goethe, or the more homey Longfellow, and Wordsworth, or any of our prose authors supply anything to compete with it? No, we find nothing so simple yet so profound as this!
But the same gracious lips told the story of the Good Samaritan; the parable of the Sower; the Publican and the Pharisee; the Great Supper for the poor, blind, and lame; the Ten Virgins; and the Rich Man and Lazarus. Where in all the field of literature shall we find anything to compare with, much more to surpass, these masterpieces of literary art?
Who is this that at once steps above all the world’s greatest writers, to be acknowledged superior to them all, unchallenged by a single instance? Surely judged by this lowest of standards, “never man spake like this Man.”
The supreme excellence of true art is strength, beauty, and simplicity. It is recorded that once Leonardo da Vinci, the painter of the famous “Last Supper,” visited a young artist friend. He found his friend was absent, but on the easel in his studio there was an untouched canvas ready for use. Leonardo took up a chalk, and with one sweep of the hand drew a circle on the canvas. On his return the young artist at once exclaimed, “Leonardo has been here!” There was no one else who could have drawn that simple but perfect figure.
It is so with Christ. The dignity and grace, the power and truth of the stories He told cause one to exclaim, “The Lord has been here,” for “Never man spake as this Man.”
Then judge the words that fell from His lips by another standard, their moral superiority.
Their Moral Excellence
There have been many moralists in the world, and many codes of honor, and much sound advice as to conduct. Good moral teaching has been the common property of all the sages of the past, but which of them can compare with the exalted wisdom and heart-searching purity of the Sermon on the Mount?
The ideals that have been held up to men for their admiration and emulation are quietly set aside. The knight in shining armor gives place to the blessedness of the gentle, the merciful, to the love of enemies and a desire to do them good.
The accumulation of wealth is rebuked as not representing truly that in which a man’s life consists, rather it is in giving and lending, while no return is looked for. The heavenly Father will supply the pres-ent need and the reward will be in heaven, with not even “the cup of cold water” forgotten.
The pride and show of religious display and love of applause are rebuked. Prayer, fasting, giving, are only means to an end, and that end not self, but a walk of communion with God, and good and loving thought for others.
The searching demand for purity that is of the heart, that governs even the restless eyes; and the love that regards hatred as murder; the truth that makes the “Yea, yea,” and the “Nay, nay,” and needs no oath to strengthen it; the obedience that hears and does, and thus builds the life on a foundation of rock.
Such is the exalted morality that places the words of Christ out of reach of any competitor, and causes us still to exclaim, “He taught as One having authority!” For no moralist ever attained to such things.
Sympathy and Encouragement
Judge these words from the standard of their empathetic embrace and again we must exclaim, “Never man spake as this Man.” Moralists are confessedly stern men, hard in their words and harsh in their judgments, often cynical and satirical in their criticisms of their times. But this Man, though His words are often awful in their burden (see for example Mt. 23, with its eight “Woes”), was never accused of being cold, harsh, or unfeeling. Even the chapter of “Woes” ends with tender words of compassion: “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem…how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and you would not!” (Mt. 23:37).
The common people heard Him gladly, and marvelled at His gracious words. Sinners wept at His feet, and the brokenhearted were comforted and their wounds bound up.
Did ever man speak to sinners as He? “Thy sins be forgiven,” “Go in peace,” yet with no laxity of morals. “Go, and sin no more.” We need search no farther. Here is James’ Perfect Man.