“We know that we have crossed the frontier from death

to life because we do love our brothers.”

(I John 3:14 – Phillips translation)

We cross a new frontier today. We’ve shaken the dust of the old year off our feet and stepped across the border into 1956.

Frontiers have always challenged the spirit of man. Columbus must cross the frontier of the westernmost horizon of sea till he sighted land beyond. The Wright Brothers must cross the frontier that held man earth’s prisoner and push upward into the limitless space above. Our frontiersmen’s forefathers were challenged in their spirits to press on past one new frontier after another through the Appalachian Mountain valleys, across the mighty Mississippi, over the western plains, up the peaks of the Rockies, on to the shores of the Pacific.

And as all the old geographical frontiers have been crossed when the land was settled up, new frontiers have ever challenged the spirit of man: Everest, the highest mountain must be scaled, the sound barrier must be broken by jet-propelled aircraft, the border land of that secret killer, cancer, must be crossed and explored. And so, man, the perennial frontiersman, is ever girding up his loins for a new adventurous trek.

Now the great frontier which has ever beguiled the spirits of all men from the Nile to the Ganges, from Jerusalem’s wailing wall to New York’s Wall Street, has been the frontier from death to life — the crossing from this present, perishable, material existence, to the realm of eternal, perpetual reality.  And about this universally interesting frontier, St. John in his first general letter to Christians makes an amazing statement: “We know that we have crossed the frontier from death to life, because we really do love our brothers.”

But how is this? What is the line of John’s reasoning? We usually think of the frontier between death and life as lying far ahead of us, but John writes of it as a frontier already crossed — “We know we have crossed the frontier from death to life . . .” — And more, how could love for one’s brothers by considered proof of having passed the great frontier?

Just this. It all stems from the observable example of Jesus Christ. This man — this carpenter who sawed wood, walked Galilean roads, and broke peasant’s bread — this man had displayed a new quality of life among men, day by day as He lived. In His words and acts there was a sympathy, an interest in people, an insight into human problems and personalities, a grasp of eternal spiritual realities which was just out of this world. But more than that, having spoken and acted with amazing love, He crowned it all with the sacrifice of His own life in love for those He had been unable to reach by word of mouth and kindly deed. He died on a cross.

But mangling death, heart-stopping death, bereaving death — could not destroy Him. On the third day after his crucifixion, this man Jesus, God raised from the dead and gave a new glory. So John and the rest of the Christian community understood the meaning of His words and life. How crystal clear it was. In Jesus Christ, divine love had entered the scene of human activity. This love was really a new and indestructible quality of life which was indeed everlasting life. Death could not hold Him. And this quality of life which Jesus possessed, other men might have by God’s free gift through faith in Christ. These blessed ones by their relationship to Christ are already clothed with immortality. They possess eternal life as a present possession. They have already crossed the frontier from death to life, and the proof of this fact on the human, earthly level, is love for one’s fellow men. So it was proved in Christ’s life. He possessed eternal life and the manner of His dealing with all men was in supreme love. So must the gift of eternal life when it resides in us manifest its genuineness in love toward our fellows. If the love is not there — if instead there is hate, envy, jealousy, resentment — then love is not present and we have not crossed the frontier from death to life.

Therefore, as Joseph Parker reminds us: “The formal conventional notion of heaven and hell must be driven out of men’s minds. We are either in heaven or we are not in it, or never will be in it.  Men are in heaven or in hell now; not in the full heaven, not in the intensest hell, but in our consciousness, our convictions, our spirits witnessing with other spirits we know where we are. Some men are always talking to God. Others never speak to him, they chatter to the devil; they know his language, they like his style of speech. It suits the vulgarity of their souls, it sets fire to their worst passions and their unholiest ambitions.”

For, you see, right now, January 1, 1956, we have already crossed the frontier, either to heaven or to hell.

And this sacrament of the Lord’s Supper which we celebrate today is just the place of rendezvous for those who are frontiersmen for Christ, men and women who wish to push deeper into the heart of the kingdom by bringing love to new frontiers of human relationships yet unclaimed for His kingdom. Yes, ours is a meeting called in the love of Christ, to receive through these elements by His spirit the love of Christ, and to go out and dispense Christian love to the whole world for which He died.

How wonderful that is in a world where men still gather together in a perversion of their hearts to withhold love from some of their fellows. To think that men will come to sit around some table other than the Lord’s which they have set up to confer and plan ways and means of holding back love from some of God’s children. How distressing that men will fence off a small segment of the earth and say: “Upon these people and these alone will I bestow my love, Christian charity, and compassion. These of this class, this country, this color, will I treat as men for whom Christ died, but for no other. I will use my influence, power, and energies to keep some of my fellows from enjoying the good life and abundant life Christ came to bring.”

An American correspondent was being driven by a young Communist through Moscow.  Suddenly, in the roadway ahead, there appeared an elderly woman. What distinguished her from the other shabbily dressed women was the hat she wore. It was a pitiful wreck of a hat, but the old woman wore it proudly, defiantly. The driver swerved his car as though to run her down and the poor creature scurried frantically to the sidewalk.

“Why did you frighten that pathetic old woman like that?” asked the American indignantly. The driver laughed. “Why not?  Only the old bourgeoisie wear hats. They’re vermin. They ought to be exterminated.”

“He wasn’t a bad young man — not naturally cruel,” observed the correspondent, “but his communist upbringing had taught him that cruelty to those whose ideas opposed his was not only justified, it wasn’t even cruel.”

One of the Psalms describing the results of the Hebrew children’s rebellion in the wilderness, says: “They turned back and tempted God and limited the Holy One of Israel.” How can mortal man limit Almighty God? How? By withholding love. By refusing to allow to flow through our hearts and hands the love of God in Christ for all His children, we limit Him. Our withholding of love from any relationship in family or home or church or business transaction — our withholding of love from any social problem or race relationship will hinder Christ from taking the farthermost frontiers of our world yet unclaimed for His kingdom.

Did you read the exciting story of the man who escaped from communist Germany to freedom with his family, and then how his wife and children were tricked to re-cross the fatal frontier on expectation of receiving gifts from their relatives and have not been heard from since?

Are we to be tricked into re-crossing the frontier from life to death — by the pressure of the times — the appeals to our pride and prejudice — by falling in with those who harbor hatred and act without love toward their brethren?

Or shall we remain faithful frontiersmen of Christ courageously bringing to every moment of life that is granted us in this new year a heart full of love, and in that love sacrifice for the needy, protect the weak, and contend with the strong?

Maeterlinck says: “The true sage is not he who sees, but he who seeing farthest has deepest love for mankind.  He who sees without loving is only straining his eyes in the dark.”

“We know we have crossed the frontier from death to life because we do love our brothers.”