Feed My Lambs

“Jesus saith unto them, Come and dine. …So when they had dined Jesus saith to Simon Peter, … Lovest thou me more than these? He saith unto him, Yea, Lord; thou knowest that I love thee. He saith unto him. Feed my lambs. He saith to him again the second time, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me? He saith unto him, Yea, Lord; thou knowest that I love thee. He saith unto him, Feed my sheep. He saith unto him the third time, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me? … And he said unto him, Lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee. Jesus saith unto him, Feed my sheep.”

“Feed my lambs.” There is such a plaintive strain of patient love and beauty in these words of Jesus. His test of love was its inspirational power to feed. “Lovest thou me more than these?”—lovest thou the giver more than the gift?—this is ever testing us in pleading tones within. With tender minor chords stirring across the heart it is ever calling us to a higher usefulness. We hear its beseeching within, it grieves us even as it did Peter. Eternally the Christ seems to beckon, to plead with a plaintive patience, “Lovest thou me more than these?” Lovest thou the Christ-life? if so, express it, prove it, feed humanity, whether it be with “song, sermon, or Science” (Science and Health, p. 234).

I said, “I will walk in the fields.”
God said, “Nay, walk in the town.”
I said, “There are no flowers there.”
He said, “No flowers, but a crown.”
I said, “But the fogs are thick and clouds are veiling the sun.”
He answered, “But hearts are sick, and men
In the dark undone.”
said, “I shall miss the light, and friends will miss me they say.”
He answered, “Choose ye to-night if I must miss you or they.”

Always this choice between the Giver and the gift. “Lovest thou me (Life)?”—”Lovest thou me (Truth)?”—”Lovest thou me (Love)?”—three times this potent touch upon the tender human heartstrings. Three times the rebuke—”prove it”—”feed my lambs.” His lambs! Not ours, but his.

Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might: Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight.

Jesus smote upon the chord of self; he appealed to love, the love for humanity. His test of love was, “feed my lambs,”—love humanity, exhale the perfume of Soul, live and help others to live. “I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.”

We sometimes forget that Life alone feeds humanity. All life springs from Life. We have for so long associated preaching with speech, executive ability with deeds, that with difficulty we learn that to be is to give life and to give it abundantly, feeding more than can either speech or action. Be, live, love, and so enrich thy neighbor as thyself. To such as cannot yet accept the bread of life in the spoken Word, the such we can at least offer the wine of inspiration, the love that inspires, that encourages and renews the weary hope and faith.

There are other means than words for feeding. Words, at the best, feed only in so far as they are inspiring, pulsating, warm with life and demonstration. Only Life feeds and sustains. The proof of Life is in its inspirational quality, in its transforming power. Love gives life, and Life inspires love, thereby the lambs are fed. Inspiration interprets truth, “the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life.”

The nature of the mortal self is to absorb others, to think only of being loved. The nature of the true self is to give love, wherein it is found to be “more blessed to give than to receive.” Its gain is in giving, in feeding others,—inspiring others; wherein it also is inspired as a reward. The noblest foundation up on which we can build our purpose, endeavor, and result, is on these words: “I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.” What a purpose in life is that! What a greeting to a starving world! What a test of love! What a passport to the hearts of men: I come to give life! And what a negative good, what a limp, lifeless offering, without any sustaining inspirational power, is that good which is done in formality, because, forsooth, it is one’s duty to do good. What a lifeless gratitude is that which declares itself because it is one’s duty to be grateful. What a hollow word is that which ambles aimlessly through vaulted space, because it is one’s duty to preach the gospel. “Feed my lambs”—just feed them, be a channel for more abundant life. Live, act, speak inspirationally, nothing else inspires others, nothing else gives life, nothing else feeds. How can we inspire others and lift them above themselves, until we are ourselves first lifted up? We cannot lead others unto Truth until self is “passed in music out of sight.” Self-less-ness and inspirational life are one. Only the inspired word can rise into the air, freighted with love, life, and truth to feed the hearts of men.

Whenever the Christ-truth is spoken there is life, it is the sustaining word that feeds the lambs. “Come unto me, … and I will give you rest,”—come unto the Christ-consciousness, come unto the rest of selflessness, and the spoken word will awaken life and live in the hearts of men, to be expressed in a gratitude which returns full measure, pressed down and running over.

Oh, the vapid, inane, insipidity of the speech, the gratitude expressed merely as duty! Oh, the sustaining, comforting, feeding power of the speech, the gratitude, the deed that is done, through the life-giving Christ-love. “Feed my lambs,” and, feeding them, stern duty becomes inspired and inspiring work. No duty is instinct with Truth that does not give life and inspiration. “Feed my lambs,” just feed them. Feed them with the bread of Truth, the wine of inspiration. “Feed my lambs,” his lambs, not ours.