We are each other’s keeper in a deeper sense than we imagine. When a new friend enters our life, we come under sacred obligation to do him good, guard his interests and be a blessing. Paul said his aim was to present every man perfect in Christ. He looked toward the end of his ministry and saw, in every person he met, one for whom he must give account. Every Christian bears this same responsibility for those entrusted to his influence.
A man once rushed to his pastor in distress. “My daughter is dead,” he said, “and she must tell God she never heard a prayer in her father’s house!” He suddenly realized he had done nothing to prepare his own child for God. Many of us fail in similar duties. The responsibility extends not only to our homes but to every life our own touches.
Paul longed to visit believers in Rome so he might impart spiritual gifts to them. We too should speak only words that minister grace — words that awaken thoughts of purity, love and goodness even in light conversation. Every influence we exert should leave some touch of beauty, something that helps another toward being at last perfect before God.
Perfection has two aspects — negative and positive. A life should be unspotted, but it must also reach fullness. It is not enough to avoid unkindness; we must actively be kind. It is not enough to cleanse the flower-bulb; it must grow and bloom. Perfection means developing every God-given capacity to its best.
In Jesus’ parable, the one-talented man returned his talent unspent, unwasted and shining — yet he was condemned, for he had done nothing with it. The others were honored because their gifts had grown. So with us. Many strings in our harp have never sounded. Many capacities lie undeveloped, like treasure hidden in walls or hoarded in cellars — never used to enrich the world. Think of the gifts lying unused in your own life. God calls us not merely to be respectable, but to be perfect — bringing every ability to its highest degree.
Paul felt deeply the responsibility for others’ souls. Understanding life rightly, we see that we too must help “present every man perfect in Christ.” This is the heart of missions. Before Jesus ascended, He charged His followers to make disciples of all nations. Our duty extends to every human being. If we find someone fallen or hurting, we must stop and help. If he hungers, we feed him; if he thirsts, we give drink. If we turn away the sick, the stranger, or the needy, we fail in love.
But our responsibility does not end with physical needs. We are our brother’s keeper in spirit and character. We must never harm another — physically, mentally or spiritually.
A careless nurse once dropped a baby, and for seventy years the man carried a crippled body. An incompetent teacher’s faulty instruction warped a boy’s life. A young Christian woman, influenced for one summer by a skeptical relative, had her simple faith shaken into doubt. Such examples show how lives are continually hurt by others.
Instead of harming, it is our duty to seek the highest good of every life. Jesus said causing one of His little ones to stumble is a terrible crime. This lays a heavy responsibility on parents, teachers, and anyone who shapes young lives. Imagine marring a child’s trust, or leading innocence into temptation. The sin is great.
Sometimes we try to evade responsibility, saying this is Christ’s work, not ours. It is Christ’s work — only He can truly keep a life — but He uses our hands and voices. We are co-workers with Him. “We might as well leave out the sun in making a garden,” someone said, “as leave out Christ in making a life.” Education and moral training alone are not enough; divine grace must work through them. Christ is to the soul what the sun is to the rose.
Yet it is equally true that Christ works through His people. A boy once said after being told God did everything for him, “Yes — but mothers help a lot!” Indeed they do. God’s work for children is done largely through parents — and through friends, teachers and all who love Christ. The work is His, but the responsibility is ours. Our hands must serve; our lips must counsel; our prayers must watch. We are our brother’s keeper, though Christ alone can keep him.
One common mistake in Christian life is placing on God duties He has assigned to us. Many sincerely pray for wanderers to return, for the careless to awaken, for the indifferent to serve — but do nothing themselves. Prayer is right and necessary, but prayer alone, without action, falls short. God alone can change hearts — but God rarely works without human cooperation. Christ redeemed the world — something no human could do — yet He sent His disciples to preach the gospel. Today He sends us to speak, to serve, to guide, to help others toward perfection in Him.
J. R. Miller (1840-1912) was a pastor and former editorial superintendent of the Presbyterian Board of Publication from 1880 to 1911. His works are now in the public domain. This is an edited version of his original.
