Christ always shows a very slender appreciation of any act of religion or of ethics which does not reach beyond the stage of _compulsion_. What is done because it _must_ be done; because the law requires it, or because society expects it, or because convention prescribes it, or because the doer of it is afraid of consequences if he omits it, may, of course, be rightly done and meritoriously done, but an act on that level is not yet quite in the region where for Christ the highest moral and religious acts have their spring. The typical Pharisee was an appalling instance of the inadequacy of “the first-mile” kind of religion and ethics. He plodded his hard mile, and “did all the things required” of him. In the region of commands, or “touching the law” he was “blameless.” But there was no spontaneity in his religion, no free initiative, no enthusiastic passion, no joyous abandon, no gratuitous and uncalculating acts. He did things enough, but he did them because he _had_ to do them, not because some mighty love possessed him and flooded him and inspired him to go not only the expected mile, but to go on without any calculation out beyond milestones altogether. Just here appears the new inner way of Christ’s religion. The legalist, like the rich young man, “does all the things that are commanded in the law,” but still painfully “lacks” something. To get into Christ’s way, to “follow” in any real sense, he must cut his cables and swing out from the moorings where he is _tied_. He must catch such a passion of love that giving either of his money or of himself, shall no longer be for him an imposed duty but rather a joy of spirit. The parable of the “great surprise” is another illustration, a glorious illustration, of the spirit of the “second mile.” The “blessed ones” in the picture (which is an unveiling of actual everyday life in its eternal meaning rather than a portraiture of the day of judgment) find themselves at home with God, drawn into His presence, crowned with His approval, and sealed with His fellowship. They are surprised. They had not been adding up their merits or calculating their chances of winning heaven. They are beautifully artless and naïve: “When saw we Thee hungry and fed Thee?” They have been doing deeds of love, saying kind words, relieving human need, banishing human loneliness, making life easier and more joyous, because they had caught a spirit of love and tenderness, and, therefore, “could not do otherwise,” and now they suddenly discover that those whom they helped and rescued and served were bound up in one inseparable life with God himself, so that what was done to them was done to Him, and they find that _their_ spontaneous and uncalculating love was one in essence and substance with the love of God and that they are eternally at home with Him.