Tenderness
Hebrews 5:1-3
For every high priest taken from among men is ordained for men in things pertaining to God…


Our relation to the things under us is the most certain touchstone of our character. Here we display quite freely what we are. We embody, on a small scale, as it may be, the spirit of fathers or the spirit of despot. We employ our superiority of power, whatever it is, either to bring to a clearer light the signs of God's counsel in external nature which wait for our interpretation, or to assert ourselves in the impotence of caprice as able to preserve, or to deface, or to destroy that which it., indeed, God's work. We either use that which is at our disposal arbitrarily for our own pleasure, or we deal with it as representing some fragment of a complicated order of life. We depress our dependents and our subordinates, the weaker men who come within our influence, that we may be isolated in the splendour of a lonely tyranny, or we strive to lift them little by little towards our own level, that in the great day of revelation we may be seen standing by the throne in the midst of many brethren; for, when we speak of the things under us, we must give to the phrase a much larger meaning than we commonly attach to it. It reaches far beyond the men who are under us. The revelation which has been made to us of the Divine plan of creation shows that we are placed in a world over the whole of which we have to exercise dominion, charged, as the true ruler must be charged, with a responsibility towards every part of it. We have from the first a responsibility towards the material fabric of the world, no less than towards the hosts of sentient beings by which this material fabric is peopled. And then, as the ages go forward, our responsibility increases. The feebler races which fall behind in the development of life become subject to the stronger, and the feebler men to those who in any respect have been endowed with the prerogative of command. Thus the sphere of the responsibility of those to whom power is given becomes indefinitely varied, but in each case the position of authority brings with it the burden of noble cares. We all must and do exercise dominion for good or for evil, and we all need the spirit of tenderness that our dominion may he a blessing. Tenderness is for dominion what sympathy is for fellowship. Tenderness pierces through the surface to the heart of things. It is true of tenderness, in every application of the pregnant figure, that it "will not break the bruised reed or quench the smoking flax." It discerns the element of strength in that which is most frail, and the element of life in that which is darkest. It sees in forms transitory and common Divine gifts to be handled reverently. It sees in simple and subject types of life memories, as it were, the promises of a great plan slowly fulfilled from stage to stage. It sees in the rudest human mind a mirror for reflecting, however imperfectly, the image of a Father in heaven; and, as we trust the varied vision, new thoughts pass into our own souls, and we become conscious of hidden forces about us which are able to still the sorrowful impatience of our eager desires. Tenderness in each direction quickens our spiritual sensibility, and under inspired teaching, nature and creaturely life and even man's failures disclose mysteries of hope. It springs out of our Christian faith. It is the obvious expression of our Christian faith in regard to the things under us. There is, I say, a tenderness towards material things which belongs to the Christian character. And this tenderness, born from the recognition of God in His creatures, shows itself both in use and in contemplation. There is something of touching solemnity in the form of the Jewish thanksgiving over bread and wine, which may go back even to the apostolic age, "Blessed art Thou, O Lord our God, King of the universe." The words remind us that the least and commonest comes from Him who sways the whole. He Himself is seen in His gifts, and in that presence there can be no wastefulness, no carelessness, no ungrateful discontent. Even light and food may be dishonoured by reckless indifference; and we may miss, by blind prodigality, the teachings which come through trivial acts to tender souls. It is, perhaps, yet more obvious how tenderness finds a place in the contemplation of material things. To the hard and the impatient there is no sanctity in the purple mountain-side, no beauty born of murmuring sounds, no majesty in the light of setting suns. The silence that is in the starry sky, the sleep that is among the lonely hills, have for them no particular message; but, none the less, sanctity, beauty, majesty, tidings of great truths are there, and the quiet eye can gather the spiritual harvest. Thus we can see how tenderness has its scope and blessing in mute, insensate things; but perhaps it is most called for in our dealings with animals. These lie in our power in a peculiar sense, and-we need to school ourselves that we may fulfil our duty towards them, for we have a duty towards them. They are not only for our service or for our amusement, they are committed by God to our sovereignty, and we owe to them a considerate regard for their rights. Our responsibility in this respect is easily forgotten. We have all felt, I fancy, something of that irrational pleasure in the capricious use of power which Browning has analysed in his portraiture of Caliban. The boy strikes down the butterfly, the man shoots the swallow on the wing, simply because he can and because he chooses. But these wanton acts are not indifferent. They tend to reveal and to mould character. They break the righteous conditions of our sovereignty. The thought has a wide and a pleasant application, for, looking at the question from this light, I do not see bow the pursuit of amusement can justify the slaughter of animals, or how the pursuit of knowledge can justify their torture. Neither amusement nor knowledge is an end for man. Both must be followed in full view of the supreme aim of life, and in remembrance of the abiding character on which each action leaves its mark. But it may be said we shall gain an insight into the hidden causes of disease, and a mastery over them, through the sufferings which we deliberately inflict on the creatures which are within our control. So far as I can ascertain, the expectation has not been justified by facts, nor can I discover the least reasonable ground for sup. posing that we shall learn any secrets of life which it is good for us to know by the way of calculated cruelty. If the world were the work of an evil power, or if it were the result of a chance interaction of force and matter, it would be at least possible that we might have gained results physically beneficial to ourselves by the unsparing sacrifice of lower lives. But if He who made us made all other creatures also — if they find a place in His providential plan — if His tender mercies reach to them — and this we Christians most certainly believe — then I find it absolutely inconceivable that He should have so arranged the avenues of knowledge that we can attain to truths it is His will that we should master only through the unutterable agonies of beings which trust in us. If we have guarded the spirit of tenderness in our bearing towards the material world and the animal world, we shall be prepared to apply it also towards weaker races and weaker men who are in a greater or less degree brought within our influence. Every one holds a position of superiority as parent or employer, as richer than others in experience or knowledge, as endowed with authority by years or position; and every one knows the daily vexations which come through the thoughtlessness, or ignorance, or indifference, as it seems to us, of those whom we wish to help in the fulfilment of their duty. Every one, again, has suffered from the temptation which bids the stronger assert his will by his strength, and overbear what he thinks to be an unintelligent opposition, and claim deference as an unquestionable right. At such times we are on our trial, and sympathetic tenderness alone will save us from falling; for tenderness will trace back the wayward act to some trait of natural character which gentle discipline can mould to good. It will discern that involuntary ignorance is to be dealt with as a form of intellectual distress. It will win respect before it claims deference for the authority with which it is entrusted. It will, in a word, turn stumbling-blocks into stepping-stones, and find, by them, the way into many hearts. But it is in dealing with the poorest that tenderness will help us most; and when I speak of the poorest, I mean those who are poorest in thought, in feeling, in aspiration even more than those who are poorest in earthly things. The poor man needs relief — the poor in virtue no less than the poor in money. The bankrupt in noble thoughts is set up again only when he sees the good for which he was made, and sees that it is still within his reach. This prospect tenderness can disclose to him — a tenderness which in view of the saddest spectacles of human failure, kindles in the believer a fire of piety, a light of natural affection, and reveals in the brother for whom Christ died the possibility and the hope of service; for tenderness, no less than reverence and sympathy, flows from Christ only as an inexhaustible source.

(Bishop Westcott.)



Parallel Verses
KJV: For every high priest taken from among men is ordained for men in things pertaining to God, that he may offer both gifts and sacrifices for sins:

WEB: For every high priest, being taken from among men, is appointed for men in things pertaining to God, that he may offer both gifts and sacrifices for sins.




Our Lord's Sympathy
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