FOOTNOTES:

[1] If Scripture be certainly true, then the most terrible passages in it are certainly true; nothing is more hardly believed by men than that which will be most tormenting to their minds, when it is believed that none shall be saved but the regenerate and holy; and those that live not after the flesh, but the Spirit, and love God in Christ above all the world, even their own lives; and that, besides these few, all the rest shall be tormented in hell for ever. This is the doctrine that flesh and blood will hardly down with. They say or think they will never believe that God will be so unmerciful; as if God must needs be less merciful than man, because He is more just and holy, and will not be so indulgent to their flesh and sin as they are themselves, and would have Him to be. And I have known even godly men, through the remnant of their corruption and darkness in the things of God, and the violence of temptation, much troubled with their unbelief in this particular. But God cannot lie the Scripture being true, and the Christian religion certainly true, every part of it must needs be true. But because sensual nature looks for sensible demonstration or proof, let me ask the unbelievers this one question—“Do you believe that which you see and feel, and all the world feels as well as you?” You know that all mankind liveth here a life of trouble and misery; we come into the world in a very poor condition, and we pass through it in daily labour and sorrow, and we pass out of it through the dreadful pangs of death. What incessant labour have the most of them, how much want and misery, how much care and grief! Do you not see and feel how sicknesses do torment us? When one pain is over, another is at hand. Have you not seen some under such terrible fits of the gout, or stone, or other diseases, that they thought no torment could be greater; some with their legs rotting and must be cut off; some with loathsome cancers and leprosies on them many years together; some that have lost their eyesight, have lost almost all the comfort of life; some that never could see; some that never could hear or speak? I have known some in such pain that they have cried out they did not believe there was greater in hell; some are mad, and some idiots: are not all these in a very miserable case? Now I would ask you further if God may, without any unmercifulness, do all this to men, and that as a chastisement in the way to bring them to repentance; if He may, without unmercifulness, make a David cry out in misery, and wash his couch with his tears; and make a Job to lie scraping his sores on a dunghill; why should you think he cannot, without unmercifulness, torment incurable sinners in hell? Further, I would ask you this question; suppose you had lived in Adam’s paradise, or some condition of pleasure and rest, where you never had tasted of sickness, or labour, or want, or feared death, if God’s Word had there told you, but that man shall endure so much misery as I have mentioned and men daily suffer, and should die at last for his sin, would you have said, “I will never believe God would be so unmerciful?” You that say so now, would likely have said so then in this case; for feeling the pleasure yourselves, you would on the same ground have said, “God is unmerciful if He should make man so miserable;” and yet you see and feel that God doth it, and we know that He is not unmerciful.—Baxter, 1615–1691.

[2] Suffering comes to us through and from our whole nature. It cannot be winked out of sight. It cannot be thrust into a subordinate place in the picture of human life. It is the chief burden of history. It is the solemn theme of one of the highest departments of literature, the tragic drama. It gives to fictions their deep interest: it wails through much of our poetry. A large part of human vocations are intended to shut up some of its avenues. It has left traces on every human countenance over which years have passed. It is not to a few the most vivid recollection of life.—W. Ellery Channing.

[3] God indeed tells us of Hell, but it is to persuade us to flee to heaven; and as a skilful painter fills the background of his picture with his darker colours, God introduces the smoke of torment, and the black thunderclouds of Sinai, to give brighter prominence to Jesus, the Cross of Calvary, and His love to the chief of sinners.

His voice of terror is like the scream of the mother-bird when the hawk is in the sky. She alarms her brood, that they may run and hide beneath her feathers; and as I believe that God hath left that mother dumb unless He had given her wings to cover them, I am sure that He, who is very “pitiful,” and has no pleasure in any creature’s pain, had never turned our eyes to the horrible gulf unless for the voice that cries, “Deliver from going down to the pit, for I have found a ransom.”

We had never heard of sin had there been no Saviour. We had never heard of hell had there been no heaven. “Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof.” And never had Bible light flashed before the eyes of the sleeping felon, to wake him from his happy dream, but that he might see the smiling form of Mercy, and hear her as she says, with finger pointing the way, “Behold I have set before thee an open door.”—Guthrie.

 

Moral Declension.

i. 21–23. How is the faithful city become an harlot![1] It was full of judgment; righteousness lodged in it; but now murderers.[2] Thy silver is become dross, thy wine mixed with water: thy princes are rebellious, and companions of thieves: every one loveth gifts, and followeth after rewards: they judge not the fatherless, neither doth the cause of the widow come unto them.

I. Moral declensions may take place in the best of men. “The faithful city—silver—wine—princes,” the very best things depraved. II. There are no limits to the moral declensions that may take place in the best of men. “The faithful city is become an harlot,” &c. We have here an argument—1. For universal humility (1 Cor. x. 12; Gal. vi. 1). 2. For universal watchfulness (Mark xiv. 38). 3. For universal prayer (Ps. xix. 12, 13; cxxxix. 23, 24).

FOOTNOTES:

[1] “The faithful city is become an harlot:”—Jerusalem, the daughter of Zion, the wife of the Holy One of Israel, has broken the bond of her covenant with Him, has set at nought the Divine constitution and order in which He originally placed, and has continued to sustain her: and, as the outward consequence and sign of this spiritual defection, has actually fallen to the worship of other gods. Throughout this prophecy Isaiah dwells chiefly on the sins of the princes and rulers of the nation, and only incidentally on those of the people; and accordingly he now dilates on the characteristic vices of the former, which are the fruits of their national unfaithfulness. Social and political morality have vanished along with religious faith; thieves and murderers are found instead of virtuous citizens; the nobles and men in authority are the first to break the laws they should enforce; the administration of justice is so corrupt that the judges take bribes, connive at the robbers whose booty they share, and permit the rich man to pervert the law for the oppression of the fatherless and widow, who have no patrons to demand, and no money to buy, justice: and thus the aristocracy, setting aside all belief that they hold their wealth and power in trust from God for the benefit of the people under them, do but employ these as irresistible engines for breaking down all rights that can oppose them in their pursuit of luxury and vice.—Strachey.

[2] Jerusalem was once full of such right; and Righteousness was not merely there in the form of a hastily-passing guest, but had come down from above to take up her permanent abode in Jerusalem: she tarried there day and night, as if it were her home. The prophet had in his mind the times of David and Solomon, and also more especially the time of Jehoshaphat (about one hundred and fifty years before Isaiah’s appearance), who restored the administration of justice, which had fallen into neglect since the closing years of Solomon’s reign and the time of Rehoboam and Abijah, to which Asa’s reformation had not extended, and reorganized it entirely in the spirit of the law. It is possible also that Jehoiada, the high priest in the time of Joash, may have revived the institutions of Jehoshaphat so far as they had fallen into disuse under his three godless successors; but even in the second half of the reign of Joash the administration of justice fell into some disgraceful state, at least as compared with the times of David, Solomon, and Jehoshaphat, as that in which Isaiah found it. The glaring contrast between the present and the past is indicated by the expression “and now.”Delitzch.

 

An Illustrious Inhabitant.

i. 21. Righteousness lodged in it.

I. A High Commendation. Righteousness lodged in the city—not merely visited it as a passing guest, but dwelt in it as a permanent abode [Alexander and Kay—“had its home there”]. No greater praise could be spoken of any city, nor can be uttered of any man. 1. Let us do what we can to make our city worthy of this high commendation. Much can be done in this direction by the combined, resolute, and persevering efforts of godly men. 2. Let us try to deserve it individually. This may involve many sacrifices, but they will be more than compensated. Righteousness is a royal guest, ennobling and enriching those with whom she dwells, and peace, prosperity, and joy invariably follow in her train. II. A mournful condemnation. Righteousness lodged in the city; lodged, not lodges! That noble and Divine inhabitant is departed. The palace in which she dwelt is in ruins. 1. Of how many cities may this mournful declaration be made! The cities in which Christianity achieved some if its first and noblest triumphs are now Mohammedan and semi-heathen. They did not hold fast the truth, and now they are given over to error. We boast that this is a Christian land, but its relapse into practical heathenism is not impossible. In every action there is a constant gravitation towards evil, which can only be resisted and overcome by constant effort and earnest prayer. Let the churches of this land lay this solemn fact to heart. 2. Of how many men may this declaration be made! How many even of the openly vicious and criminal were once respectable members of society—yes, even honoured members of churches! They were men “subject to like passions as we are;” and in what they are we have solemn warnings as to what we may become. Let those who are most exalted, not in privileges only, but in moral excellence, also watch and pray, lest sin enter even their hearts, and expel that Divine guest whose presence secures so many blessings and warrants so many hopes.

 

The Possible Degeneracy of Valuable Things.

i. 22. Thy silver is become dross.

There are many valuable and good things in the world that through varied causes are rendered comparatively useless. They once were silver, but now they are dross. I. The silver of thy character has become dross because of little failings. There have been men known to all of us, of good moral characters, of lofty and heroic soul, but they were betrayed into occasional faults,[1] which many condoned, which others magnified, but which they themselves did not correct, until at last their silver became dross. The character depreciated in moral worth. It was no longer current as a thing of beauty. It had lost its value. II. The silver of thy service has become dross because of unholy motives. Christian service is a good and precious thing, but how frequently is it rendered useless and vain by pride, by thoughts of self, and by secular motive.[2] It is, indeed, as silver when rendered by a pure and loving heart, but alas! it too often becomes dross because of the unhallowed sentiment of the soul. The mite of the widow cast into the treasury was as silver, but the munificent gifts of the Pharisees were as dross. How much of the service rendered to the great God in the pulpit, pew, and school, is but dross! This is a solemn thought. III. The silver of thy money has become dross because of selfishness. We cannot estimate the wealth of a man by the money he has in possession, but often far better by the money he gives away. When men keep their riches to themselves, solely for their own use, they cease to be rich—they are laden with coin that is not current; their silver has become dross. Liberality makes money worth its value.[3] Generosity preserves wealth from all degenerating influences. How many so-called rich men have more dross than silver in this world. IV. The silver of thy talents has become dross because of indolence. Silver is bright when kept in use. Talents are valuable when active. The mind has talents of thought and sympathy and love. The hand has talents of help. The mouth has talents of blessing. Take care that thy silver does not become as dross.—J. S. Exell.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] You need not break the glasses of a telescope, or coat them over with paint, in order to prevent you from seeing through them. Just breathe upon them, and the dew of your breath will shut out all the stars. So it does not require great crimes to hide the light of God’s countenance. Little faults can do it just as well. Take a shield, and cast a spear upon it, and it will leave in it one great dent. Prick it all over with a million little needle shafts, and they will take the polish from it far more than the piercing of the spear. So it is not so much the great sins which take the freshness from our consciences, as the numberless petty faults which we are all the while committing.—Beecher.

[2] Our end or motive in acting determines more than anything the quality of our actions. Not that a good end will sanctify a bad action, but a bad end will vitiate every action connected with it. If, for instance, in our religious services we seek the applause of men, we must expect no reward from God, the gratification of our pride and vanity is all the reward that such polluted services can obtain. In the account which is given of Jehu, we find that the very same action which was rewarded on account of its outward conformity with God’s command, was punished on account of the base principle by which he was influenced in performing it. He did well in extirpating the seed of Ahab, and was rewarded for it to the fourth generation: the blood which was shed was imputed to him as murder. Nor is there anything more common than for even religious persons to mistake the path of duty through an inattention to their own spirit. The disciples doubtless thought themselves under the influence of a commendable zeal when they would have called fire from heaven to consume a Samaritan village; as did Peter, also, when he cut off the ear of Malchus. We should therefore be peculiarly cautious with respect to this, lest by the mixture of any selfish motive or base affection we offend Him whom it is our desire and endeavour to please.—Simeon.

[3] If we so love our riches that we would eternally possess them, let us not hoard them up in the earth, where we are sure to leave them, carrying nothing with us but the canker of our coin, which shall bear witness against us at the Day of Judgment; but let us send them before us into heaven, delivering them unto the poor, who are God’s factors and receivers; and so having conveyed and made over our goods, as it were by bills of exchange, we shall find the Lord a sure and all-sufficient paymaster, who will give us more than double usance, and yet pay us at the first sight. If we would have our coin continue sweet and good for a good space, let us know that there are for this purpose no garners comparable to poor men’s stomachs, which will preserve our grain for our use unto life eternal. If we would have our clothes preserved from moths, and to last long, the backs of the naked are our safest wardrobes.—Downame, 1644.

 

A Terrible Resolve.

i. 24. Therefore thus saith the Lord, the Lord of hosts, the Mighty One of Israel, Ah, I will ease me of mine adversaries, and avenge me of mine enemies.

Concerning many men, we may offer Christ’s prayer, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” They sin in ignorance, or rather without thought of their character and relation to God, and of the doom which they are bringing upon themselves. There may be such persons before me now. Acting, then the part of a true and faithful friend, I warn you—I. That God counts you as His enemies. By cherishing your sins you defy His authority, and place yourself in a position of hostility to Him.[1] II. That God feels Himself, injured, oppressed, and as it were hemmed in by your iniquities. Note this most suggestive phrase, “I will ease me of mine adversaries,” and see outline on verse 14. God’s laws are His territories, and by your transgressions you invade them. Your sins are trespasses. God feels toward you as the French feel towards the Germans who have taken possession of and settled down in Alsace and Lorraine; you put upon God an indignity which He cannot and will not bear. III. That while God endures your trespasses for a time, in the merciful hope that by His forbearance you may be led to repentance, He will not restrain His anger for ever, but will presently give free vent to it,[2] and sweep you into that place where, though you may retain the disposition to sin against Him, you will not have the power.

Application.—Now consider—1. That this is not the resolve of some feeble being destitute of resources for the accomplishment of his purposes. He who thus solemnly warns you is “the Lord of hosts, the Mighty One of Israel.” 2. Whether you have resources that will enable you to cope with this adversary whose indignation you have aroused (Luke xiv. 31). If not, consider—3. What is the course that wisdom would suggest to you in your present circumstances (Luke xiv. 32).[3]

FOOTNOTES:

[1] If a king warns a city of traitors, and calls upon them to search them out and send them away, and they never regard the message, but willingly give them harbour and entertainment, it is a sign that they are disaffected to him: to cherish a sin after warning is open defiance of God.—Manton, 1620–1667.

[2] At this first step we might reason on the testimony if we pleased, instead of accepting it, and raise the objection that to imagine passion in God, especially so turbid a passion as anger, conflicts with our notions of His character, and degrades Him in our apprehensions. Beware! remember that in forming an estimate of the character and proceedings of God, we are but little children forming an estimate of the character and proceedings of a man of matured experience. Were it not more reasonable, as well as more reverent, to accept what He says, and to leave Him afterwards to clear up any mystery which may envelope His nature? I can indeed conceive in Him nothing turbid, impetuous, or impulsive, such as sullies the clearness of the human will. But this I can conceive, that there is in Him some high perfection (more incomprehensible to my finite capacity than the speculations of an astronomer to a peasant child), of which anger is the most adequate exponent to my mind, and which I must be content to think of and speak of as anger, or else to remain in total ignorance of it. And this also I can—not only conceive, but most readily assent to, that in an absolutely perfect nature there should be an utter abhorrence of, and antipathy to, moral evil, most justly represented to simple minds by the terms “anger,” “curse.” We have never seen a perfect character; no perfect character, save one, ever moved upon the earth: but the righteous man, who is striving after and approximating to perfection, has often crossed our path; and surely we have marked in him, that the more righteous he is, the more doth he abhor (in the language of Holy Scriptures) everything that is evil. What is the effect upon one who breathes habitually the atmosphere of communion with God, of catching in the current tidings of the day the intelligence of some awful outburst of depravity? When such an one passes on an errand of mercy through the crowded alleys of a great city, and the shouts of malignant execration and profaneness ring in his ear, or with what feeling does he encounter these symptoms of human degradation? Are they not like a foul odour to his nostrils, or a jarring note to his ear, or an abortion to his sight? Does he not turn away with loathing, and recoil from such scenes and such sounds with an antipathy strong in proportion to his goodness? And is it, then, so hard to conceive that in perfect goodness there may be a recoil from moral evil, something similar in kind to this, though infinitely stronger in degree? And is not such a recoil righteous, and a token of righteousness?—Goulburn.

[3] Let us take heed, for mercy is like a rainbow, which God set in the clouds to remember mankind: it shines here as long as it is not hindered; but we must never look for it after it is night, and it shines not in the other world. If we refuse mercy here, we shall have justice there.—Jeremy Taylor, 1612–1667.

 

The Purpose of Punishment.

i. 24–27. Therefore thus saith the Lord, the Lord of hosts, the Mighty One of Israel, Ah, I will ease me of mine adversaries, and avenge me of mine enemies: and I will turn mine hand upon thee, and purely purge away thy dross, and take away all thy tin: and I will restore thy judges as at the first, and thy counsellors as at the beginning: afterwards thou shall be called, The city of righteousness, The faithful city. Zion shall be welcomed with judgment, and her converts with righteousness.

The denunciation of the iniquity of Jerusalem (vers. 21–23) is followed by a solemn announcement of God’s determination to punish it. I. God will certainly punish sin. “Ah, I will ease me of mine adversaries, and avenge me of mine enemies.” See preceding outline, and that on verse 20. II. In punishing sin God is not moved by any vindictive purpose. True, He speaks here of taking vengeance upon His enemies, but these words coming from the lips of Jehovah must not be interpreted as we should have to interpret them if they came from the lips of a Genghis Khan or a Tippoo Saib. We must remember that this is the utterance of the Mighty One of Israel, who is infinitely uplifted above every unholy passion. Whatever misconstruction the phrase, taken alone, might be open to, is entirely obviated by the declarations which follow it, which teach us—III. That God’s aim even in the severest chastisements is the reformation of the offenders, and their restoration to true blessedness. For what purpose will He turn His hand upon Jerusalem? Not that He may destroy her, but that He may purify her, as silver is purified in the furnace; and through this painful process she is caused to pass, that she may be restored to her former dignity and blessedness. It is for these purposes that God chastises nations and individuals to-day.

Application.—1. Those who are living sinful lives may certainly expect severe judgments. Sin and sorrow are inseparably linked, and God is solemnly pledged not to “clear” the guilty. 2. Those on whom judgments on account of sin have fallen should neither despise them nor be driven by them to despair (Heb. xii. 5). These are two great evils. Indifference to chastisement brings on still severer strokes.[1] God will break the stubborn sinners who refuse to bend (ver. 28).[2] Despair defeats the very object for which our chastisements are sent, and is itself a grievous offence against God. Instead of yielding to despair, we should be filled with hope, for God has loving purposes towards us, and our prayer should be, not that the afflictions should be removed, but that God’s purposes in them should be fulfilled. It is worth while to go into the furnace, if thereby we may be cleansed from the dross by which we are defiled.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The physician, when he findeth that the potion which he hath given his patient will not work, seconds it with one more violent; but if he perceive the disease to be settled, then he puts him in a course of physic, so that medicè miserè (he shall have at present but small comfort of his life). And thus doth the surgeon too: if a gentle plaster will not serve, then he applies that which is more corroding, and, to prevent a gangrene, he makes use of the cauterising knife, and take off the joint or member that is so ill affected. Even so God, when men profit not by such crosses as He hath formerly exercised them with, when they are not bettered by lighter afflictions, then He sends heavier, and proceeds from milder to sharper courses. If the dross of their sin will not come off, He will throw them into the melting-pot again and again, crush them harder in the press, and lay on such irons as shall enter more deeply into their souls. If He strikes and they grieve not, if they be so foolish that they will not know the judgment of their God, He will bring seven times more plagues upon them—cross upon cross, loss upon loss, trouble upon trouble, one sorrow on the neck of another—till they are, in a manner, wasted and consumed.—Firmicus.

[2] This we may rest satisfied of, that whensoever God’s hand is upon us, we must either yield a voluntary, or be forced to a violent, submission. If our stubbornness is such that we will not bend, it is certain that our weakness is also such that we must needs break. If God’s message will not win upon Pharaoh, His plagues shall compel him, and therefore, when He sent Moses to him, He put a rod into his hand, as well as a word into his mouth. When God fully purposes to afflict a man, he is like a bird in a net, the more he strives and flutters, the more he is entangled; for the Supreme Judge of all things is resolved to go through with His great work of judgment, and to make all obstinate, sturdy sinners know, that He has power to constrain where His goodness will not persuade.—South, 1633–1716.

 

The Divine Idea of Redemption.

i. 25, 26. And I will turn my hand upon thee, and purely purge away thy dross, and take away thy tin: and I will restore thy judges as at the first, and thy counsellors as at the beginning: afterward thou shalt be called, The city of righteousness, The faithful city.

We have here the promise of a redemption which God would accomplish for Jerusalem, and from the terms of the promise, especially taken in connection with the preceding statements (vers. 21–23), we may learn what God’s idea of redemption is: it is to purge away all that debases and to restore all that is lost. In other words, redemption consists in restoration to the Divine ideal. Such was the redemption which God promises to accomplish for Jerusalem; such is the redemption which He offers to accomplish for us. Here we have—

I. A correction of a common error. Most men, when they hear of redemption, think of it merely as salvation from suffering, rescue from the peril of hell. This is a consequence of redemption, but redemption consists in the cleansing of our nature from all defilement, and in our restoration to the Divine ideal of humanity (Col. iii. 10; Eph. iv. 24, 13). God is going to do something grander for us than save us from hell. He is going to make us “meet” for heaven (1 John iii. 2). It would be truer to say that God’s idea of redemption is “salvation by suffering,” than to say that it is “salvation from suffering.” The figure used in the text is expressive of the keenest suffering—“I will purge away thy dross.” but dross is purged away by fire! Suffering is one of the instruments which God most frequently uses to save men from sin.

II. A model for preachers. Guided by a Divine interpreter, the prophet does not speak of happiness, but of purity and righteousness; he names these as the great favours which God was about to bestow upon His people. So should preachers to-day strive to make men understand that these are the greatest blessings which God can confer upon man. All other blessings spring from them; as all social blessings are secured to a community when its “judges” are righteous and its “counsellors” fear God. Let preachers do their utmost to make it plain to the man of this generation, that just as if we have the sun we shall have light and heat, so if they have purity, they shall have peace; if they attain to holiness, they shall attain to a nobler and completer happiness than those who long for happiness merely ever dream.

III. An ennobling ideal to be striven after by all men. Happy is the man who has a great purpose in life. And what is the purpose with which a study of our text should inspire us? Not merely to “flee from the wrath to come,” but to become “partakers of the Divine nature,” and so to attain to God’s ideal of humanity. God is striving to restore us to His own likeness: let us do all that in us lies to help on this restoration (Phil. ii. 12, 13). The “salvation” we are to “work out” is not salvation from guilt (that is Christ’s work, accomplished by Him once for all on the cross), but from the indwelling corruption which is to us what dross is to the precious metals. Nor are we merely to seek to put away that which is evil;[1] we are to strive to set up in us all noblenesses which are to character what “judges” and “counsellors” are to a city (2 Pet. i. 5–7; Phil. iv. 8). Blessed is the man who has this ideal in life. 1. He is saved from fear, the haunting dread of failure which oppresses those whose supreme desire is merely to be saved from hell. 2. He has a sustaining hope, based upon the sure promises of God’s Word (1 Pet. i. 10, 11). 3. He has a present and growing joy, such as can come only from self-conquest and moral progress. The joy of “the just,” that is of the men whose steadfast aim is righteousness, is like “the path of the just” (Prov. iv. 18).

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Christianity ends not in negatives. No man clears his garden of weeds but in order to the planting of flowers or useful herbs in their room. God calls upon us to dispossess our corruptions, but it is for the reception of new inhabitants. A room may be clean, and yet empty; but it is not enough that our hearts be swept, unless they be also garnished, or that we lay aside our pride, our luxury, our covetousness, unless humility, temperance, and liberality rise up and thrive in their places. The design of religion would be very poor and short should it look no further than only to keep men from being swine, goats, and tigers, without improving the principles of humanity into positive and higher perfections. The soul may be cleansed from all blots, and yet still be left but a blank. But Christianity is of a thriving and aspiring nature, and requires us to proceed from grace to grace (2 Pet. i. 5–7), ascending by degrees, till at length the top of the ladder reaches heaven, and conveys the soul so qualified into the mansions of glory.—South, 1633–1716.

 

Social Regeneration.

i. 26. And I will restore thy judges as at the first, and thy counsellors as at the beginning: afterward thou shall be called, The city of righteousness, The faithful city.

We have in the contest a picture of a dismantled city, a disorganized community; and here God tells us that He will undertake the work of its reconstruction. I. All the arrangements of society are absolutely in God’s hands.I will restore,” &c. No man can overturn, or build up, but by His permission. On Him all projects of national, social, or ecclesiastical reconstruction depend for their success. That on which He smiles flourishes; that on which He frowns withers away. Let reformers and reconstructors of society remember and recognise this great fact, that God rules on earth as in heaven. II. All interruptions of social order are under the control of God. Revolutions occur not by chance, nor by the will of man, but by the will of God. They occur only when, and continue only as long as He pleases. By Him judges and counsellors are swept away, and by Him they are restored. No nation is so broken that it cannot be uplifted by Him to power and glory, “as at the first.” III. No social state can be purified but by religious processes. There are many philanthropic and political projects which have for their aim national regeneration, but they are all foredoomed to come to nought, because they lack the religious element. Moral reformation must go before social advancement: a return to righteousness is the first step to national exaltation.[1] IV. The great name will follow the true regeneration.Afterward thou shall be called, The city of righteousness, The faithful city.” Not first the exalted title, but the illustrative character; not first the splendid renown, but the glorious achievement!—Joseph Parker, D.D.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Think not that any change in the form of government would cure that which is caused by the people’s sin, or the common depravity of human nature. Some think they can contrive such forms of government as that the rulers shall be able to do no hurt; but either they will disable them to do good, or else their engine is but glass, and will fail or break when it comes to execution. Men that are themselves so bad and unhumbled as not to know how bad they are, and how bad mankind is, are still laying the blame upon the form of government when anything is amiss, and think by a change to find a cure. As if when an army is infected with the plague, or composed of cowards, the change of the general or form of government would prove a cure. But if a monarch be faulty, in an aristocracy you will have but many faulty governors for one, and in a democracy a multitude of tyrants.—Baxter, 1615–1691.

 

The Twofold Effect of Divine Judgments.

i. 27, 28. Zion shall be redeemed with judgment, and her converts with righteousness: and the destruction of the transgressors and of the sinners shall be together, and they that forsake the Lord shall be consumed.

These verses are closely and vitally connected: it is a mistake to separate them, as in the Authorised Version. Their meaning would be conveyed to the English reader, if they were translated—“Zion shall be redeemed with judgment, and her converts with righteousness; and thereby also the transgressors and sinners shall be destroyed, yea they that forsake the Lord shall be consumed.”[1] By judgment is meant the doom which in the preceding verses had been threatened against guilty Jerusalem (e.g., vers. 18): this “judgment” would be a manifestation of God’s punitive righteousness, and the declaration is that the infliction of this “judgment” would have a twofold effect—it would redeem Zion and her converts, and it would destroy the transgressors and sinners.

The diverse effects of Divine judgments is a matter well worthy of our study. I. One effect of those judgments by which God manifests His righteous indignation against sin is to redeem His people from their transgressions. A prolonged period of peace and prosperity such as the Jews enjoyed under Uzziah is always perilous to the vital religion of a nation. Formalism is apt to prevail. The lines of demarcation between the Church and the world are apt to be effaced; “Zion” is apt to become merged in “Jerusalem.” In love to His people, God is therefore compelled to send upon their nation great calamities. These lead to searchings of heart, and reformations of conduct and character. Men learn again to wait upon God, and reverently to regard His will (ch. xxvi. 9). The Church shines once more with the glory of spiritual conformity to God, and the result is that she is increased by converts from the world: to these also the season of judgment is also the season of redemption. But, II. Another effect of God’s judgments is to harden the obdurate. His chastisements lead some men to further acts of rebellion against Him (ver. 8). Like Pharaoh, they harden themselves more and more as God sends plague after plague upon them (Exod. viii. 19, 32, &c.) Hence seasons of public calamity (such as that of the plague in London, &c.) have always been seasons of public crime. Transgressors madly dare Omnipotence to a trial of strength, and the result is their utter destruction.

Our object as thus unfolded gives rise to the following practical reflections—1. In a season of national or individual prosperity we should be especially watchful and prayerful against conformity to the world.[2] 2. We should not regard judgments that come upon our nation or ourselves merely as calamities: they may be God’s angels sent in truest mercy, and they bring with them to the people of God great moral and spiritual compensations. 3. Judgments, when they come upon us, afford us an admirable test of our real character: if we be indeed the people of God, they will lead us to submission and to more earnest strivings after holiness; but if they awaken within us a spirit of murmuring, of repining, of resentment against God, we have good cause to suspect that our religion has never been the work of God in our hearts.[3] 4. In the season of judgment we really have only one alternative before us—to turn or burn. No stoutness of heart will enable us to resist God’s consuming wrath against iniquity (Mal. iv. 1).

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The world “together” does not mean that the transgressor shall be destroyed together with the sinner; but that the destruction of this one class, called both transgressors and sinners, shall come in close connection, “together with,” the salvation of the penitent who are brought back to God by correction, as is said in the previous verses. The same sort of infliction that reclaimed the “converts” (ver. 27), hardened and sealed over to ruin those who would still “forsake the Lord.”—Cowles.

[2] How often does worldly prosperity tend to this lapsing of the soul from God! How often do our very outward mercies and blessings superinduce this spiritual languor and decay! It is with believers individually as with the Church collectively—they are never in a condition less favourable to spiritual health and advancement than when they have no trial or cross to brace their energies and invigorate their graces. The soldier gets supine after battle. History tells us how the bravest veterans of the great Carthaginian general got demoralized and degenerate when, victory over, they sat down to rejoicing and revelry, before the gates of Capus; they never were the same heroes again.—Macduff.

[3] As it is easy to know a piece of gold from a piece of brass when they come both to the anvil and be stricken with the hammer, for brass will not be handled, but when it cometh to the beating breaketh and maketh a sharp din and irksome, but gold soundeth sweetly, and is pliable; so when the hypocrite cometh between the anvil and the hammer of affliction, he breaketh with impatience, and lamenteth in blasphemies against God; whereas a faithful Christian praiseth God, and layeth out his heart, submitting himself willingly under the Lord’s hand that striketh him.—Cowdray, 1598–1684.

 

Forsaking the Lord.

i. 28. They that forsake the Lord shall be consumed.

I. The guilt of forsaking the service of the Lord. 1. Man is bound by the law of his nature to obey that Almighty Being by whom he was made an intelligent and immortal creature. Every discovery which reason opens to him of the transcendent perfections of the Lord of the universe urges the duty of offering the homage of his heart and life. Every day’s preservation increases his obligation to serve his gracious Preserver. 2. Many in forsaking the Lord violate their own express and solemn engagements (Heb. x. 29). II. The folly of forsaking, &c. If we do so, we shall 1. incur the reproaches of our own mind; 2. forfeit the esteem and confidence of all good men; 3. forfeit the favour and incur the wrath of God. And for what are all those tremendous sacrifices made? For “the pleasures of sin,” which are but “for a season”! III. The danger of forsaking, &c.—“shall be consumed.” The threatened doom is 1. awful, 2. certain.—J. H. Hobart, D.D., Posthumous Works, ii. 220–229.

 

The Doom of the Apostates.

i. 28–31. They that forsake the Lord shall be consumed. For they[1] shall be ashamed of the oaks which ye[1] have desired, and ye shall be confounded for the gardens that ye have chosen. For ye shall be as an oak whose leaf fadeth, and as a garden that hath no water. And the strong shall be as tow, and the maker of it as a spark, and they shall both burn together, and none shall quench them.

In modern days, when men “forsake the Lord,” they become simply irreligious—practical atheists; but in ancient times such men became idolaters, they became worshippers of idols set up under the “oaks” planted on the hilltops, or in gardens.[2] It is almost impossible for us to understand the fascination of idol-worship, but it was very powerful, and the idols were made objects of passionate trust. They were regarded as the strength of those who served them. Trusting in their protection their votaries went forth confidently to battle. Defeat did not dispel this delusion; it was interpreted to mean merely that the god of the victors was mightier than the god of the vanquished. To men glorying in their protection, the prophet predicts utter destruction. You shall be consumed, he says; the day is at hand when ye shall be caused to blush for your gods; you yourselves shall be withered oaks, and gardens without water; yea, your idols, and ye who have made them, for they are but things, the work of your hands, shall be burned together in unquenchable fire.[3] The theme of these verses is therefore the doom of the apostates, and the objects of their trust.

I. Idolatry is still the sin of our race. It is not confined to “heathen” lands. There is no need in this land for a proclamation of the first commandment. For what is idolatry in the essence? It is loving and trusting some being or thing more than God. Every man’s god is what he lives for. Hence the declaration that “covetousness is idolatry;” it is one form of the widespread sin. II. The confidence of men in their idols is still limitless and exultant. Every idolater is persuaded that that which he lives for is worth living for; this is the conviction of the miser, the ambitious man, &c. III. The time is at hand when the falsity of this confidence shall be exposed. There are coming upon those who cherish it calamities amid which they will seek in vain for comfort from their “idols.” How often this is verified in daily life! In the withered, desolate condition of those who have forsaken the Lord how awfully is their folly demonstrated! IV. Yea, there is a day appointed in which all idolaters and their idols shall be consumed together. In the day of judgment the worshippers of Dagon, of Astarte, of Baal, and of Brahm will not be the only persons on whom utter destruction shall come: those who have made gold their confidence, &c., shall be burned up, together with their “gods.” The objects of their trust shall be as powerless as is “tow” to resist flame, and they themselves shall be but as “sparks,” swept away by the blast of the Divine indignation.

Application.—1. The day of judgment is a great reality; it is no mere dream of theologians, it is a tremendous fact with which we shall soon be brought face to face. 2. This fact should govern us in selecting the object of our supreme love and trust. 3. It should prevent us from envying those who have forsaken the Lord, because of the temporary prosperity in which they are rejoicing.[4] 4. It should make us earnest in our endeavours to reclaim them from their apostacy while the day of Divine long-suffering and mercy still continues.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] In verse 29 is an instance of what seemed to Lowth’s classical taste a corrupt reading—“They shall be ashamed of the oaks which ye have desired.” But this variation of the persons of the verb is not unusual in Hebrew, and certainly no corruption. Indeed, if we look at Psalm xci., which is very artistically constructed, we shall see reason to think that what jars so harshly on a classically trained ear was a beauty to the Hebrew poets.—Strachey.

“Which ye have desired.” He was speaking of “the sinners,” he suddenly turns round to the men of his own generation, and says, “You are the men who are thus storing up shame and confusion.”—Kay.

[2] In the judgments and the restoration which the prophet foretells, he declares that the people shall learn the worthlessness of the idols which they have been worshipping under the oak-trees, and in the sacred groves and gardens. The worship of the high places was partly a local worship of Jehovah, which only became irregular and blameable in later times; but there was also a widespread worship of Baal, Astarte, and Molech, the old gods of the Canaanites and other nations, in sacred groves and gardens, as well as on the hill-tops—a worship of impersonated and defiled sensuality and cruelty—which sometimes even established itself within the precincts of the temple itself, and was still more readily blended with, or substituted for, the worship of Jehovah in the high places. And this idolatrous worship was going on in Judæa during the reigns of Uzziah and Jotham, at the same time with the temple services, as appears from 2 Kings xv. 3, 4, compared with 2 Chron. xxvii. 2. In the day of judgment and restoration, says the prophet, these men who have been flourishing in their sin like the oaks, and living in pleasures like those of their well-watered gardens, shall find that the idols to which these oaks and gardens are dedicated have no power to save them from a destruction which shall make them “as an oak whose leaf fadeth, and as a garden that hath no water,” images which will be the more forcible if we remember that in a southern climate trees fade rather from excessive heat than from seasonable cold, and a garden without water is a mere desert of sand. Then shall the strong, the mighty, and the unjust ruler become tow, and his idols, the work of his hands, a spark; and shall both burn together, and no man shall quench them.—Strachey.

[3] The interpretation of verse 31 on which the above outline is based is that of Calvin and the earlier Protestant commentators. That which in modern days has been almost universally adopted, is given in the preceding extract from Strachey, and the homiletic use to which it may be put is indicated in the next outline: “The Tow and the Spark.” We are persuaded, however, that the earlier interpretation is that which is most in harmony with the scope of the whole passage. All the ancient versions treat חָסֹן as an abstract, meaning strength, and Dr. Alexander admits that “this agrees well with its form, resembling that of an infinitive or verbal noun.” Latterly it has become the fashion to translate it “strong man,” but the harmony of the whole passage is best maintained by rendering it “their strength,” that is, that which the idolaters have regarded as their “strength,” the deity in whose protection they have trusted.

[4] O sirs! do wicked men purchase their present pleasures at so dear a rate as eternal torments, and do we envy their enjoyment of them so short a time? Would any envy a man going to execution because he saw him in a prison nobly feasted, and nobly attended, and bravely courted? or because he saw him go up the ladder with a gold chain about his neck, and a scarlet gown upon his back? or because he saw him walk to the execution through pleasant fields or delightsome gardens? or because there went before him drums beating, colours flying, and trumpets sounding? &c. Surely no! Oh, no more should we envy the grandeur of the men of the world, for every step they take is but a step to an eternal execution.—Brooks, 1628–1680.

What reason have we to envy the wicked in their riches and prosperity? If a man be standing firmly on a river’s bank, and sees another gliding gaily but inevitably down to a tremendous precipice below, shall he be envious of the pleasant sail that intervenes before the dread catastrophe? Shall he stand and envy him, and wish to exchange places with him? Oh no, but let him rather cry aloud, and warn him of his danger. Let him hasten to the rescue; throw out his arms with right good-will, and if it may be, save a soul from death.—Nason.

 

The Tow and the Spark.

i. 31. And the strong shall be as tow, and the maker of it as a spark, and they shall both burn together, and none shall quench them.

For the phrases “and the maker of it,” the margin reads, “and his work.” So Alexander and Henderson. This reading renders the passage intelligible in meaning and terrible in import. It then in simple, vivid manner sets forth the reciprocal influence of the sinner and his sin. The man in committing sin degrades and enfeebles himself, and then the sin he has committed reacts upon his degraded and enfeebled nature to kindle in it the fire of its corruption. It is worth observing that these terrible words of warning are not levelled 1. against low and vile people. The term “strong” precludes that opinion. They are spoken against those who have been, or are still, esteemed, exalted, and powerful,—presumably against the princes, the judges, the counsellors of the nation (vers. 23–26). Nor are they spoken 2. against the avowedly irreligious. The people addressed performed a multitude of sacrifices (ver. 11), were punctilious in their attendance on the house of God, &c. (vers. 12–14), were full of apparent devotion (ver. 15). Nor 3. do they refer to the grosser forms of sin. These would of course come under the same condemnation. But spiritual sins, though more refined to our perception, are more fatal even than sensual sins. It is pre-eminently a spiritual sin in root, however sensual in fruit, that is here arrived at. It is all summed up in the one evil, “forsaking the Lord” (ver. 28). It is important to bear these considerations in mind if we would obtain personal and profitable application of these words. Consider—

I. The radical change sin works in the constitution of the sinner. Sin is lawlessness, an outbreak of self-will (1 John iii. 4). It is conscious wrongdoing (James iv. 17). And sin, the prophet says in effect, has a disintegrating, deteriorating, degrading influence upon the man’s nature who yields to it. “The strong shall be as tow.” Tow is the coarse, broken part of flax or hemp—waste, refuse. Used here in contrast to that which is strong. Used also as pattern of that which is inflammable. 1. Sin lowers the tone and tenor of our nature. Man’s nature is originally a very high nature. “A little lower than the angels” (Ps. viii. 5); a little lower than Divinity (see Alexander and Thrupp in loc.). Originally a king with all highest forms of existence grouped around his throne (Ps. viii. 6–8). He falls by sin. How low? To the level of beasts that perish? (Ps. xlix. 20). Lower than that (Isa. i. 3). To level of trees and shrubs? Lower than that. See, that heap of coarse and tangled refuse was a plant once, a living thing. Now it is cut down, dried, dead; choicest parts gone, wasted! “Tow”—that is the symbol of the sinful man. The height from which he has fallen measures the degradation incurred. To that which is by nature “tow,” it is no degradation to be “tow.” But for that which is “strong” to become “tow”—for the highest of God’s creations to become as the lowest—this is disgraceful, dreadful. 2. Sin, depraving and degrading the type and tenor of our nature, enfeebles our powers of resistance to the assaults of external evil. Sin is weakness as well as wickedness; weakness as the result of wickedness. The “strong” becomes as “tow,” becomes weak. Hard to tell which is the worse to bear, the paroxysms of remorse, or the paralysis of power which the habit of sin engenders.[1] To feel that when some “temptation comes and calmly states itself before us” we are helplessly a prey to it, is terrible indeed. The first sin of any kind greatly facilitates a second commission of the same;[2] and every repetition increases that facility till the ease of doing it almost amounts to a practical inability to abstain from doing it.[3] Sin gets dominion over us. Men are “sold under sin.” 3. Sin imparts to us an increased susceptibility to evil—makes us more inflammable. And Satan’s “fiery darts” striking, inflame us.[4] Some counsellors advise young people to indulge in a certain measure of sin as a remedy for its enkindling impulses; they call it “sowing their wild oats.” A figure is sometimes the best vail for a fact. One would think that “sowing” would of itself suggest reproduction and multiplied reproduction (Gal. vi. 7, 8) If you wish your nature to become hopelessly inflammable, utterly uncontrollable, give way to the indulgence of its hot impulses while you are young.

II. The way in which the sinner and his sin co-operate for their common destruction. We all know the influence of coming into contact with the instruments, the companions, the locality even, of a former sin. They stir up in us the memories, the emotions, the impulse to the same transgression. So the sinner goes about the world setting new snares for his feet at every turn as he sins. The relation of sin to the sinner and to his sinful deed is like that of a lamp placed between two mirrors, which reflect and reflect the light, till both the mirrors seem full of lamps. Sin is ever more multiplying itself between the sinner and his sinful deed. And the issue is irremediable ruin. “They shall both burn together, and none shall quench them.” And the moral is, that if we would keep out of hell, we must keep out of sin.—W. Roberts, B.A.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] One of the affecting features in a life of vice is the longing, wistful outlooks given by the wretches who struggle with unbridled passions towards virtue which are no longer within their reach. Men in the tide of vice are sometimes like the poor creatures swept down the stream of mighty rivers, who see people safe on shore, and trees and flowers, as they go quickly past, and all things that are desirable gleam upon them a moment to heighten their trouble, and to aggravate their swift-coming destruction.—Beecher.

[2] A brand that has been once in the fire easily catches the second time.—Flavel, 1630–1696.

Every commission of sin imprints upon the soul further disposition and proneness to sin; as the second, third, and fourth degrees of heat are more easily introduced than the first. Every one is both a preparative and a step to the next. Drinking both quenches the present thirst and provokes it for the future. When the soul is beaten from its first station, and the mounds and earthworks of virtue are once broken down, it becomes quite another thing from what it was before. In one single eating of the forbidden fruit, when the act is gone, yet the relish remains; and the remembrance of the first is an easy allurement to the second. One visit is enough to begin an acquaintance; and this point is gained by it, that when the visitant comes again, he is no more a stranger.—South, 1633–1716.

[3] Sin is like the descent of a hill, where every step we take increase the difficulty of our return. Sin, in its habits, becomes stronger every day—the heart grows harder, the conscience grows duller, the distance between God and the soul grows greater, and like a rock hurled from a mountain’s top, the further we descend we go down, and down, and down, with greater and greater rapidity.—Guthrie.

[4] It is in our own bosom that the power of temptation is found. Temptation is but a spark; and if a spark fall upon ice, if it fall upon snow, if it fall upon water, what is the harm of a spark? But if it fall upon powder—the powder is yours, the spark only is the devil’s.—Beecher.

The power of temptation is in proportion to the nature of the soul tempted. A thoughtless miner takes an uncovered light into the mine: where there is but little gas, there is but a wavering and flickering of a transient flame,—hardly flame, indeed; but where there is an accumulation of gas, the uncovered light occasions an explosion which shivers the rocks and brings swift destruction upon all who are in the mine. In both cases it was the same mine, the same miner, but the condition of the air was different. So is it with the fiery darts of the wicked one; they are shot into all human hearts, and just in proportion to the materials, so to speak, which are to be found there, will be the success or failure of the enemy.—Dr. Parker.

 

Isaiah’s Vision of the Last Days.

ii. 1–5. The word that Isaiah the son of Amoz saw, &c.

1. The marvellous power of the ancient prophets in giving embodiment and figure to the Word of God. It was a “word” that Isaiah saw; not that he heard, but that shaped itself before his vision, and made him glad, as if a new star had arisen to guide him. 2. Isaiah speaks with magnificent confidence as to the summing up of earthly dispensations. Casting his eye over all the uproar and tumults of intervening time, he sees a heavenly repose settling on the engagements and destinies of mankind. Herein is the peculiar power of the old prophets, viz., that they did not confine their attention within a brief and inadequate period, but projected their minds over historic spaces within which, so to speak, God had room to disclose somewhat of the proportions and significance of His plans. The whole year can never be judged from any one season. The prophets seemed to see things in their wholeness, and this made them calm in the midst of transitory confusion and distress. 3. The house of the Lord is to be exalted above all rivalry. The strength of the hills is to be a pedestal for the sanctuary. At the last right shall be uppermost, and holiness supreme. In the “last days” the house of the Lord shall exert a universal fascination; nation shall challenge nation to go up in holy and triumphant procession to the heights of Zion; and the voice of other allurements shall be lost in the infinite charm of the invitation. 4. Nor is this to be the indulgence of a mere sentiment; it will be the expression of a desire to be spiritually right, and thus to be spiritually secure: “He will teach us of His ways, and we will walk in His paths.” Lawless sentiment is to have no place in spiritual discipline. We are not called to a high revel, but to a pure and tender obedience to an unchangeable law. 5. The house of the Lord is to be a centre of judgment and rebuke towards people who are living in impiety and political corruption. The consequence of this judgment, if properly received, will be the establishment and perpetuation of righteous peace. When the nations are right with God, they will be right with each other. Merely negative peace may be disturbed, but the peace which comes by righteousness will be its own guarantee of completeness and continuity. 6. All these blissful anticipations should constrain towards present obedience, and be fruitful of present joy. So the prophet thought when he exclaimed, O house of Jacob, come ye, &c. Those who have great prospects should even now show themselves to be the heirs of glory. Christian joy is not all future. Even now, though we have to complain of so much of cloud and storm, there is a light that is distinctively divine, and under its benign rays we ought to walk until the fuller glory is revealed.—Joseph Parker, D.D.

 

The Latter-Day Glory.

ii. 2–5. And it shall come to pass in the last days, &c.

Theme: The Glory of the Latter Days. “The last days,” when men shall no longer need to offer the prayer, “Thy kingdom come.” The glory of the latter days will consist—I. In the exaltation of the Lord’s house above all other institutions (ver. 2). Now the Exchange, the Senate, the University, &c., are the great “mountains” of society; then the sanctuary will be supreme. In other words, religion will be the ruling force in society, dominating and directing all the others. This is the truth set forth by the figure of the upraising of Mount Zion above all the other mountains, “so as to be visible in all directions.” II. In universal submission to the authority of God (ver. 3). Not by the Jews only (as in Isaiah’s time), but by “all nations,”[1] and not (as now) by some individuals merely, but by “all nations,” will this authority be recognised and obeyed. Sin will be the exception, righteousness the rule. And so, as a consequence of this—III. In universal peace among men (ver. 4).[2] All contentions necessarily cease when men know and do the will of God. James iii. 14—iv. 1. Love towards man always results from genuine love toward God.

A contemplation of their glorious future is calculated—1. To sustain us amid the sins and sorrows of our time. When we look at the condition of the world as it is, we are tempted to despair. But there is a better day to come. In the widening diffusion of Christian truth, and in the growing power of Christian principle, even now we may see at least streaks of light which tell that the dawn is near. 2. To animate us in our efforts to regenerate society. These efforts are not in vain, though they sometimes seem so. We are working in the line of victory (1 Cor. xv. 58). 3. The blessing of the future we can make our own now. “O house of Jacob, come ye, and let us walk in the light of the Lord,” that is, “in His paths” (ver. 3). We can make religion the supreme force of our life, and can act with a constant recognition of God’s authority; and doing this, we shall have peace—with God, with ourselves, and in our homes (Isa. xxxii. 17, 18).

FOOTNOTES:

[1] What words are these! What ideas! What radiances of glory and hope for the long-afflicted Church! Nations abolishing war and crimes, to cultivate righteousness and peace! nations emerging from ignorance and idolatry, to join themselves to the Church, and to walk in the light of the Lord! How marvellous that words like these should proceed from the Hebrew prophets! that men of the most confined education with regard to the Gentiles should thus lose the glory of Israel in the overflowing glory of the converted world! Can we ask for clearer proof that these holy men were purely the organs of the Holy Ghost, and transported in spirit to publish the righteousness of God to every nation and language of the earth?—Sutcliffe.

I would urge the thoughtful consideration of these verses (2–9) on any one who is perplexed by the confident assertion of writers who prefer vague declamation to close investigation and reasoning, that the Hebrew prophets were actuated by a bitter hatred of foreigners. He will, I think, discover (from this and such like study) that they were possessed by views and hopes of a philanthropy which even our own times have not been able to extend: they longed for fellowship with all men, under the only conditions in which fellowship is possible; they desired an universal communion of virtue, humanity, and goodness, and could not be content to have a general license of vice, brutality, and wickedness instead; and they advocated what they saw, and what all history has proved, to be the only way of avoiding the one and securing the other.—Strachey.

[2] This verse shows that there will come a time when men shall have found out that they are men and not brutes, and when they shall settle matters, not by the force of their animal powers, but by the force of superior intelligence.—James Wells.

 

The Future Triumphs of the Gospel.

ii 2. And it shall come to pass in the last days, that the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established in the top of the mountains, and all nations shall flow unto it.

The poetic imagery delineates the final and universal prevalence of religion. Christianity is a temple majestic and conspicuous, and all nations crowd its courts in united adoration. There are many interesting indications that this prophecy is soon to be fulfilled, such as—I. The political aspect of the globe. The vast political changes that have taken place during the last four centuries in Europe, Asia, Africa, and America have all been favourable to the extension of Christianity. The area of Christian knowledge and influence has been steadily extending.[1] II. The progress of civilisation and of the arts. A few years ago it required the painful labour of years to copy a Bible, and the wealth of a prince to purchase one: now the art of printing scatters the Word of God like autumn leaves, and it is found in the humblest dwelling. Then none could read but the learned few; now knowledge is becoming like sunlight, everywhere diffused. War has long been one of the greatest obstacles in the way of human improvement; now various causes are operating to render it less frequent, such as 1. the rapid extension of piety, carrying with it the principles of peace; 2. the extension of enlightened views of national policy; 3. the transference of power from kings and nobles to the people, the victims of war, who will become its powerful opponents; 4. the invention of terrible engines of destruction, which will tend to deter nations from plunging into war. Slavery, too, is rapidly disappearing from the earth. The wonderful facilities of intercommunication which now exist are weakening and effacing national prejudices. All these causes are hastening on the promised millennium. III. The present state of the sciences. This statement seems to be contradicted by the attitude of many students of science towards Christianity. But we must remember that all the sciences in their infancy have been arrayed as hostile to scriptural truth—astronomy, geology, physiology, chronology; but one by one each of these sciences, as it developed and attained maturity, has passed over to the side of Christianity, and has powerfully helped to build up what it feebly and impotently laboured to destroy. That which hath been is that which shall be. In science the cause of revealed truth will continue to find one of her most ready and efficient helpers. IV. The past achievements of Christianity foreshadow its eventual and perfect triumph. The hostility of earth has marshalled every possible power, in every possible combination, against Christianity—the persecution of political power, the arguments of philosophy, satire, learning, poetry, wealth—and all in vain. The past triumphs of the religion of Christ show that it possesses an inherent energy which must inevitably make it triumphant over the world. The mighty influence which swept away the gods of Greece and Rome will not be baffled by the mud-idols of India. V. The triumphant advances Christianity is now making indicate its universal extension. Application.—What are you doing to hasten this certain and glorious triumph?—J. S. C. Abbott, American National Preacher, xvii. 169–176.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] All the might of the world is now on the side of Christianity. Those barbarous, inchoate powers which still cling to heathenism are already trembling before the advancing strides of the Christian nations; Christian just enough to rouse all their energies and to make them intensely ambitious, and on the alert to increase their own dominion, without having learned Christianity’s highest lesson, the lesson of love.

Even that heathenism which seems to have some power is only waiting for its time of decay. In vast, undisturbed forests, whose interlacing branches exclude the light, moisture is generated, and rills, fed by marshes and quiet pools, united to form running rivers. But let the trees be cut down, and the ground be laid open to the sun, and the swamps will dry up, and the rivers run no more. So is it with the Brahmins, and all the effete teachers of heathenism. As long as the dense shadows of ignorance brood over the people, they will possess some little trickling power; but let the light of knowledge shine in upon the masses, and the channels of their influence will dry up and be forgotten.—Beecher.

 

The Light of the Lord.

ii. 5. O house of Jacob, come ye, and let us walk in the light of the Lord.

“The light of the Lord” streams upon us from His Word (Ps. cxix. 105). The knowledge of God and of His holy will which the Bible imparts to us is the meridian sun which casts his rays on the cold scenes of our earthly career. I. The religion of the Bible illumines. Into how many errors did unaided human reason fall, when the nature of God and of His operations was the subject of its inquiries![1] Did not the wisest grope in darkness? Did they not conceive absurdities, even when man and his fate were the subject of their inquiries?[2] How full, clear, and steady is the light which the Scriptures cast upon these and other great subjects of human thought! II. The religion of the Bible warms. That God is great and all-powerful some philosophers imagined before the divine light of inspired truth shone forth; but the human heart remained cold, and felt in itself no point of contact and union with so exalted a Being. Until God said, “I am your Father,” we were as orphans in a strange land; but then at once the world became to us as a parent’s dwelling, and our heart began to warm with love towards God and man. III. The religion of the Bible vivifies. It animates and restores the weary, the dying! IV. The religion of the Bible blesses—now,[3] and for ever (1 Tim. iv. 8).—G. Salomon, Twelve Sermons, pp. 1–24.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Men who seek God by reason and natural strength (though we do not deny common notions and general impressions of a sovereign power) are like mariners who voyaged before the invention of the compass, who were but coasters, and unwillingly left the sight of the land. Such are they who would arrive at God by this world, and contemplate Him only in His creatures and seeming demonstration. Certainly every creature shows God, as a glass; but glimmeringly and transitorily, by the frailty both of the receiver and beholder; ourselves have His image, as medals, permanently and preciously delivered. But by these meditations we get no further than to know what He doth, not what He is.—Donne, 1573–1631.

None but the true God can discover [make known] what the true worship of God is. As that glorious eye of heaven is not to be seen but by its own proper light,—a million of torches cannot show us the sun: so it is not all the natural reason in the world that can either discover what God is, or what worship He expects, without Divine and supernatural revelation from Himself.—Arrowsmith, 1602–1659.

[2] Reason sees that man is ignorant, guilty, mortal, miserable, transported with vain passions, tormented with accusations of conscience, but it could not redress those evils. Corrupt nature is like an imperfect building that lies in rubbish: the imperfection is visible but not the way to finish it; for through ignorance of the first design every one follows his own fancy, whereas, when the Architect comes to finish His own project, it appears regular and beautiful. Thus the various directions of philosophers to recover fallen man out of his ruins, and to raise him to his first state, were vain. Some glimmerings they had that the happiness of a reasonable nature consisted in its union with God, but in order to this they propounded such means as were not only ineffectual, but opposite. Such is the pride and folly of carnal wisdom, that to bring God and man together, it advances man, but depresses God.—Bates, 1625–1699.

All the days of sinful nature are dark night, in which there is no right discerning of spiritual things: some light there is, of reason, to direct natural and civil actions, but no daylight. Till the sun rise it is night still, for all the stars, and the moon to help them.—Leighton, 1611–1684.

[3] It is a peculiar advantage of piety, that it furnisheth employment fit for us, worthy of us, hugely grateful, and highly beneficial to us. Man is a very busy and active creature, which cannot live and do nothing, whose thoughts are in restless motion, whose desires are ever stretching at somewhat, who perpetually will be working either good or evil to himself: wherefore greatly profitable must that thing be which determineth him to act well, to spend his care and pain on that which is truly advantageous to him; and that is religion only. It alone fasteneth our thoughts, affections, and endeavours upon occupations worthy the dignity of our nature, suiting the excellence of our natural capacities and endowments, tending to the perfection and advancement of our reason, to the enriching and ennobling of our souls. Secluding that, we have nothing in the world to study, to affect, to pursue, not very mean and below us, not very base and unbecoming us, as men of reason and judgment. What have we to do but to eat and drink, like horses or like swine; but to sport and play, like children or apes; but to bicker and scuffle about trifles and impertinencies, like idiots? What but to scrape or scramble for useless pelf, to hunt after empty shows and shadows of honour, or the vain fancies or dreams of men? What but to wallow or bask in sordid pleasures, the which soon degenerate into remorse and bitterness? To which sort of employments were a man confined, what a pitiful thing he would be, and how inconsiderable would be his life! Were a man designed only, like a fly, to buzz about here for a time, sucking in the air and licking the dew, then soon to vanish back into nothing, or to be transformed into worms, how sorry and despicable a thing were he! And such without religion we should be. But it supplieth us with business of a most worthy nature and lofty importance; it setteth us upon doing things great and noble as can be; it engageth us to free our minds from all fond conceits, and cleans our hearts from all corrupt affections,—to conform the dispositions of our soul and the actions of our life to the eternal laws of righteousness and goodness: it putteth us upon the imitation of God, upon obtaining a friendship and maintaining a correspondence with the High and Holy One, upon filling our minds for conversation and society with the wisest and purest spirits above, upon providing for our immortal state, upon the acquist of joy and glory everlasting. It employeth us in the divinest actions—promoting virtue, performing beneficence, serving the public, and doing good to all: the being exercised in which things doth indeed render a man highly considerable and his life excellently valuable.—Barrow, 1630–1677.

 

The Walk of the Soul in the Light of the Lord.

ii. 5. O house of Jacob, come ye, and let us walk in the light of the Lord.

There are many lights shining upon the paths of men in this world. There are the lights of science and philosophy; they beam out from the human mind, and are kindled by eager research and investigation. These have been advancing in splendour and in value, age by age, and will, no doubt, continue to do so to the end of time. Men walk in these lights, and vainly imagine that they have found the sun of the soul. They seek no higher illumination. They are mistaken. The lights of science are but little service to the moral nature; they cannot chase away its darkness, or open up to it a vision of destiny. The True Light cometh down from above, and is Divine in its origin. It is bright. It is beauteous. It is sufficient for the guidance of the soul. Wise men will walk in it. “O house of Jacob,” &c.

I. The walk of the soul. “Let us walk.” 1. The moral walk of the soul is a necessity. The soul of man is endowed with certain convictions and activities which render inaction an impossibility. It must walk either in one direction or another; either toward moral purity or moral evil; either to Christ or to Satan. The moral sensibilities with which it is gifted, the laws under which it is placed, the influences to which it is subject and the prospects that are stretched out before the soul, render moral progress a necessity of being. 2. The moral walk of the soul is educational. Men gain knowledge in this world by travel. In this way they augment their mental stores. And the soul gains knowledge, strengthens its capabilities, and deepens its experience, by walking forth into the great moral universe in which it lives. Only the souls that have walked in the paths of truth and life know what things are, and they only are able to guide others. 3. The moral walk of the soul is healthful. Those who are inactive are always physically weak. The soul that never takes moral exercise, that never gets out into the broad acres of truth, and that never climbs the great mountains of God, will ever be sickly. If the soul is to be strong, equal to the duties of life, and to the demands of being, it must not indolently repose in its own quiet hiding-place. It must go forth to meet the External. 4. The moral walk of the soul is often perilous. The traveller has often to walk through dark places, along difficult paths, and near the deep precipice. He is in a strange country. And so in the walk of the soul. It is in a land of which it knows but little. It has to pass through the dark mystery of truth, to traverse the windings of intricate problems, and to find its way, through perplexing circumstances, to the throne of God.

II. The light of the Lord. “In the light of the Lord.” The soul of man was not constituted to walk in darkness. It was created with keen moral vision; but, alas! its eye is dimmed by sin, and is but seldom open to the light of heaven. 1. This light is Divine in its origin. It does not come from the orb in the heavens. It comes from beyond the clouds—from the Sun of Righteousness, whose rays are never lost in night. It is not the light of the finite, but of the Infinite. It is perennial and pure. It is unparalleled in beauty. It is unique in lustre. It is life-giving in its influence. The soul can walk in no better radiance. 2. This light is clear in its revelation. But for the sun we should know nothing of this world. And but for the light of the Lord we should be entirely ignorant of the moral world, in which the soul lives and has its being. This light which shines for the Spirit of God from the Bible, and from the enlightened conscience, reveals the existence of God, the spirituality of His nature, the purity of His character, and the devotion of which He is worthy. It reveals the soul to itself, and bends it in humility, but in joy, as it unfolds the forgiving mercy of the Cross. But for this light of the Lord we should be ignorant of the things of the moral universe. It illuminates the soul in its walk to the great and unknown future. 3. This light is cheering in its influence. The light of the sun is cheering to man, and is ever welcome to him. So the light of the Lord is cheering to the pure soul; it enlivens its energies, and lends new beauty to its visions. 4. This light is abiding in its duration. The light of the Lord will never go down from the pure soul, but will only brighten through death into the perfect day.—By what light do we walk? “Come ye,” now, gladly, devoutly, “and let us walk in the light of the Lord.”—J. S. Exell.

 

A Terrible Picture.

ii. 6–22.

Here is a “word” (vision) which Isaiah “saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem” (ver. 1). The prophet has been enraptured by the wondrous prospect of the distant future, when religion shall be the supreme force of life (ver. 2), and all men (vers. 2, 3), walking in “the light of the Lord,” shall be at peace with each other (ver. 4): now he looks down to the present, and how dark and terrible is the picture which he sees before him! He sees—I. A nation forsaken of God (ver. 6). One of the most awful of all spectacles: an engine of tremendous power, without a driver, rushing down a steep incline! II. A nation pursuing childish superstitions (ver. 6): “They be replenished from the east, and are soothsayers like the Philistines.” When a nation forsakes God, this is a common result (Rom. i. 21, 22). Witness the rapid spread in our own day of “spiritualism” among the sceptical and irreligious classes of England and America. III. A nation seeking strength and safety in alliances with the enemies of God, allying itself with the very powers which Omnipotent Righteousness was pledged to crush! Instead of dwelling apart, as God intended (Num. xxiii. 9; Deut. xxxiii. 28, &c.), and in dependence upon His protection, the Israelites sought to strengthen themselves by alliances with surrounding nations. “They please themselves with the children of strangers.” The same sin is repeated in these days, when God’s people mix with worldly society for the sake of its “advantages.” IV. A nation blinded by external prosperity to its real condition and peril (ver. 7). Abounding with every evidence of prosperity, how could they suspect that they were forsaken of God, and that a terrible doom was hanging over them? What is our condition, and what are our prospects as a nation? Let us not lay too much stress upon our great national wealth. V. A nation given over to a debasing idolatry (ver. 8; Rom. i. 23). A moral degradation extending to all classes (ver. 9). Just what we behold in Roman Catholic and ritualistic churches, where rich and poor alike prostrate themselves before the wheaten wafer which their priest has transformed into a god! The prophet himself now becomes part of the picture, and we have—VI. The awful spectacle of a good man invoking the vengeance of Heaven upon the nation to which he belongs (ver. 10): “Therefore forgive them not.” This was the natural cry of the prophet’s soul, filled with horror and indignation at what he saw. The imprecations of Scripture are the natural (and fitting) utterance of righteousness in view of wickedness. It is only because of the tone of our own spiritual life is so low that we are offended at them. From whom, among ourselves, does the cry of human law against the perpetrators of crimes of violence come? Not from the classes most likely to suffer for them, but from the refined and gentle, who, just because of their refinement and gentleness, are inspired by them with disgust and anger. So it is those who are most in sympathy with God who are most likely to burn with holy indignation against such things as the prophet saw. The men who offer such prayers as this, “Forgive them not,” would be the first to reverse it did the offenders give any sign of repentance. VII. A crushing doom impending over an unsuspecting nation. No sooner had the prophet uttered his prayer, than he sees it was needless, and that the thunderclouds of the Divine anger were already thickly massed over the guilty nation; without any visible sign there was gathering over them a storm that would suddenly break forth with destructive force. Therefore he breaks out into a strain of impassioned warning and appeal to the very men for whose punishment he had prayed (ver. 10, &c.)

What lessons shall we learn from our survey of this dark picture? 1. Not to judge of the relations of nations, individuals, or ourselves to God by the test of temporal circumstances. It is an old but gross fallacy that temporal prosperity is a sure sign of the Divine favour (Eccles. ix. 1–3; Job xxi. 7–15, &c.)[1] Let us not ask what our circumstances are, but what our character is, and what our conduct has been. If we are unrighteous, temporal prosperity should alarm us, as a sign that God has forsaken us (Heb. xii. 8). 2. Not to be hasty to impute the temporal prosperity of the wicked to a slumbering of the Divine justice. We need scarcely trouble ourselves to pray for a doom upon the ungodly (Exod. xxxiv. 7; 2 Pet. ii. 3; Job xxi. 17, 18; Ps. lxxiii. 18, 19; Isa. iii. 11). 3. Let us remember that we ourselves, as sinners, are exposed to the Divine judgments, and let us “enter into the Rock”—“the Rock of Ages,” that, sheltered in Him, we may be safe when the storms of the final judgment shall burst upon our guilty world.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] When the Lord hath set thee up as high as Haman in the court of Ahasuerus, or promoted thee to ride with Joseph in the second chariot of Egypt; were thy stock of cattle exceeding Job’s, “seven thousand sheep, three thousand camels, five hundred yoke of oxen;” did thy wardrobe put down Solomon’s, and thy cupboard of plate Belshazzar’s when the vessels of God’s temple were the ornature,—yet all these are but the gifts of Wisdom’s left hand, and the possessors may be under the malediction of God, and go down to damnation.—Adams, 1654.

The eagles and lions seek their meat of God. But though all the sons of Jacob have good cheer from Joseph, yet Benjamin’s mess exceeds. Esau shall have the prosperity of the earth, but Jacob goes away with the blessing. Ishmael may have outward favours, but the inheritance belongs to Isaac.—Adams, 1654.

 

God’s People Forsaken.

Heb. xiii. 5. I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.
Isa. ii. 6. Thou hast forsaken Thy people the house of Jacob.

How comforting is the Apostle’s assurance! But do not the hope and courage which it inspires die out of us, and testify, “Thou hast forsaken Thy people”? No! because before there is any light concerning this question in our understanding, our faith tells us there must be a way of harmonising these seemingly conflicting declarations. God must necessarily be faithful to His promise. “I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.” Were God to forsake any of His believing, expecting people, He would do more than forsake them—He would forsake Himself! He would put off His crown and lay aside His sceptre, and become one of ourselves. Then the whole universe would have cause to mourn in sackcloth and ashes; there would no longer be any God to whom we could make supplication in our sorrows.

I. The first of these inspired declarations make it plain that God has a people who He will never forsake. In every distress and tribulation He will be with them. Though all other friends may fail them, God will continue faithful to them. When the most devoted of human friends could not be of any avail, God will be their succour—when bereavement has broken their heart; when persecution or temptations are threatening to sweep them away; in the hour of death.

II. The second of these inspired declarations makes it plain that those who have been accounted the people of God may be forsaken by Him. This is a declaration that would smite us with dismay, and plunge us into saddest confusion, were we to put a full stop where the prophet has put a comma. Why had God forsaken His people, the house of Jacob? Because they had first forsaken Him: they had first voluntarily ceased to be His people. The truth in this matter may perhaps be best apprehended by means of a Scriptural symbol. God compares the union that exists between Him and His people to that which exists between a man and his wife. Will a good husband ever forsake his faithful wife? The bloom and beauty of her youth may have gone; a wasting sickness may have rendered her positively unlovely, but will he forsake her? Never! Her misfortunes will only cause him to cherish her with a tenderer love. But if she be unfaithful to him, what then? Why, then, the whole case may be altered. If he be a merciful as well as a just man, he may seek to reclaim her; but if she be “joined to her lovers,” and persistently heedless of all his claims and her duties, the time will come when he will leave her to her fate. To him she will be as if she were dead. So God is wondrous in His forbearance towards His backsliding people; but if they persist in their apostacy, He will leave them to the gods whom they have chosen (Judges x. 13, 14; Jer. ii. 28). We see now that between these apostolic and prophetic utterances there is the most perfect harmony. Our discussion of this subject should teach us—1. Not to found conclusions upon fragments of God’s sayings or doings. His words and His works are mutually explanatory; but we must not cut the explanations short! If we put periods where God has only put commas, we shall be plunged into frightful perplexities; with the words of Scripture on our lips, we shall have most damnable heresies in our hearts. Our study of God’s word must be comprehensive. So also must our study of God’s providence. Let us not be in a hurry to come to conclusions. Wait, and we shall have more light, because we shall not be looking at parts, but at wholes. Our life is being written in clauses, and not till the last is completed shall we be able to interpret the first aright.[1] 2. Not to build too much upon past submissions to the Divine will and past enjoyments of the Divine favour. “Once in grace always in grace” is an ignis fatuus which has lighted many a soul down to hell. If after being fenced around as a garden of the Lord, and tilled by the great Husbandman, and watered by dews and rains from heaven, we relapse into mere desert ground, we may be sure we are nigh unto cursing (Heb. vi. 4–8). 3. That those who are humbly and loyally faithful to their Heavenly Friend cannot be too confident of His faithfulness to them. Assuredly He will never forsake them (Isa. xliii. 2). And His presence is all they need. Having Him they have all things (Ps. lxxxiv. 11, 12).

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The Lord has reasons far beyond our ken for opening a wide door, while He stops the mouth of a useful preacher. John Bunyan would not have done half the good he did, if he had remained preaching in Bedford, instead of being shut up in Bedford prison.—Newton, 1725–1807.

However contradictory the designs of Providence at first appear to be, if we set ourselves to watch God in His works and ways, with care, we shall soon discover that He acts according to some certain scheme or plan.

Were a person altogether unacquainted with architecture to visit some splendid temple in the process of erection, and observe the huge rough stones, and boards and timbers, iron castings, bricks, lime, mortar, lying scattered in confusion all around; were he to see one group of workmen cutting up material here, another digging trenches there; one party raising a staging on this side, another nailing on some boards on that: were he to observe the blocks, the fragments, all lying in disorder round about him, he might truly say that he could see no plan or system in the business; nor would he be likely to conceive or dream that out of such a chaotic mass of raw material, out of such contradictory labour, there could ever rise a magnificent temple, to reflect undying honour on the architect, and beautify the world!

But let the observer stop, and set himself to watch from day to day this busy work as it goes on; let him patiently examine, not only the minutest details, but also try to obtain a view of the general scope and bearing of the whole, and he will not be long in finding out that some superior mind controls and regulates the movements in accordance with some preconceived plan or system, which is constantly developing itself; and that every stroke of every workman is conducive to the same ultimate effort.

And when he comes to see the “beau ideal” of the builder realised in the fair proportions, in the classic beauty of the noble structure, he then perceives how inconsiderate, how unfair it was in him to decide upon a work in its incipient state, without some knowledge of the plan and the design of it.

God is building up the Christian in accordance with a perfect plan into a majestic temple for the decoration of the eternal city. And though His dealings sometimes seem to be mysterious; though He seems to cut down here and to raise up there, to let the light into this part and to leave it dark in that; though it is hard to tell at times what such material is designed for, what this or that work means, or to conceive how the structure when completed will appear; it is nevertheless quite certain that God acts according to a fixed and unalterable plan; that every stroke we bear, or loss we mourn, is made subservient to the end; and although it is given us here to see only in part, whoever will take the pains to watch with care the course of Providence, will be convinced that it does not move along by chance, but that everything is done by a prospective plan.—E. Nason.

 

Forsaken of God.

ii. 6. Therefore Thou hast forsaken Thy people, &c.

The doctrine of this verse is, that when men forsake God, God forsakes them. There is nothing arbitrary in such Divine withdrawals;[1] they have always a moral cause; and no man has any right to complain of them (Hosea xiii. 7). Consider I. When men forsake God. Men forsake God—1. when they set their affection on forbidden things; 2. when they cease to seek Him in prayer and the other means of grace; 3. when they give themselves up to the practice of sin. II. When men are forsaken of God. This doom befalls them—1. when they are left without that aid of the Holy Spirit, without which they cannot vividly apprehend the truth; 2. when they are left without the comfort of God’s mercy; 3. when they are left without earnest distress after God, and consequently a prey to all the evil within and around them. III. Men may be forsaken of God in the midst of temporal prosperity. There may be a terrible contrast between their spiritual and material condition (ver. 6, 7). Temporal prosperity is from God; it is designed to lead men to repentance (Rom. ii. 4); failing to accomplish this, it drives them further from God (Deut. viii. 11–14; Prov. xxx. 9; Neh. ix. 25); and when it has this effect upon them, the doom of which our text speaks to us is not far off (Deut. xxviii. 48).[2] IV. No man need remain thus forsaken of God. 1. God desires to bring all men into fellowship with Himself (ver. 3, 4). 2. All are invited to come to Him (ver. 5). 3. The light of God’s countenance is offered them, especially in Christ, who is “the light of the world.”—John Johnston.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] In common conversation, we frequently speak of solar eclipses. But what is called an eclipse of the sun is, in fact, an eclipse of the earth, occasioned by the moon’s transit between the sun and us. This circumstance makes no alteration in the sun itself, but only intercepts our view of it for a time. From whence does darkness of soul, even darkness that may be felt, usually originate? Never from any changeableness in our covenant God, the glory of whose unvarying faithfulness and love shines the same, and can suffer no eclipse. It is when the world gets between our Lord and us, that the light of His countenance is obstructed, and our rejoicing in Him suffers a temporary eclipse.—Salter.

[2] When the king removes, the court and all the carriages follow after, and when they are gone, the hangings are taken down; nothing is left behind but bare walls, dust, and rubbish. So, if God removes from a man or a nation, where He kept His court, His graces will not stay behind; and if they be gone, farewell peace, farewell comfort: down goes the hangings of all prosperity; nothing is left behind but confusion and disorder.—Staughton, 1628.

 

The Material and the Moral.

ii. 6–9. They be replenished from the east, &c.

We have here the indictment which the prophet brings against Israel. It consists of three counts: 1. That the people had adopted the superstitions of the surrounding nations. 2. That the government had accumulated treasure and organized a cavalry force, in direct disobedience to well-known Divine injunctions (Deut. xvii. 16, 17). 3. That rich and poor alike had abandoned themselves to idolatry. But these verses may be taken also as Isaiah’s description of Judæa in his day; and so regarding them, we find in them an instructive combination of the material and the moral. According to modern ideas, so far as the description concerns the material, it is exceedingly bright. An observer who regarded only the material—such a man as we can conceive of as being sent out as a “Special Commissioner” by the Daily Telegraph or the New York Herald—would have given a glowing account of Judæa at that period: an overflowing exchequer, a powerful army, evidences of wealth and prosperity on every hand, &c. But the prophet, looking only at what is moral, gives an account that is lurid and dark in the extreme: he sees only cause for lamentation and foreboding. So we reach the first of the lessons on which I intend to insist to-day, viz., I. That the most diverse reports may be made truly concerning the same community. St. Paul visited Athens, and we have a touching account of the effect of that city upon him (Acts xvii. 16); to him it presented a pitiable spectacle; but what a different effect would have been produced upon a mere man of culture, and what a different account he would have given of that metropolis of art! What very different accounts might be given of our own country from these two standpoints, the material and the moral!

II. When two reports of a community are given—one materially bright and the other morally dark—it is the latter only that a wise man will regard as important. For 1. It is on the moral condition of a nation, and not on its material prosperity, that its happiness depends. Increase of wealthy does not necessarily mean increase of happiness. Frequently it means destruction of happiness; it always does so, when wealth increases faster than intellectual culture and moral restraint. In the absence of this moral restraint, wealth is not a blessing, but a curse. 2. The material disassociated from the moral is transient. Vicious prosperity is short-lived. By the luxury born of prosperity and virtue of industry, foresight, and self-denial, on which prosperity depends, are sapped. The health of the nation is lowered. Commerce becomes a gigantic system of gambling. Ruin is soon reached. Hence,

III. Our chief concern as patriots should be to promote the moral well-being of our nation. Those who uplift it in virtue are its true benefactors. All who minister to its material, intellectual, and artistic progress are worthy of gratitude; but most deserving of gratitude are those who inspire it with the fear of God, and with love for His laws. Hence,

IV. Our chief concern as individuals should be for the moral and not for the material. It is a very small matter to add house to house, and field to field: it is a very great thing to add virtue to virtue until we have succeeded in building up a symmetrical and noble moral character. A man’s life—his true well-being depends not upon what he has, but upon what he is.[1] And upon this, too, depends his eternal destiny. How childish, therefore, is the almost universal concern for mere material improvement! And how little have those to complain of who find themselves unable to accumulate wealth! The millionaire has soon to leave all his stores, and he speedily reaches a point at which all his bonds and notes become wastepaper. What a contrast between his experience, and that of the man who, having employed his life in virtue, finds that all unconsciously he has been laying all up for himself treasures in heaven! These two courses are open to us—to live for the material, or to live for the moral: which will you choose?

FOOTNOTES:

[1] A wise man looks upon men as he does upon horses; and considers their comparisons of title, wealth, and place, but as harness.—Newton, 1725–1807.

In the library of the world, men have hitherto been ranged according to the form, the size, and the binding. The time is coming when they will take rank and order according to their contents and intrinsic merits.—E. Cook.

A man may be outwardly successful all his life long, and die hollow and worthless as a puff-ball; and a man may be externally defeated all his life long, and die in the royalty of a kingdom established within him. That man is a pauper who has only outward success; and that man may be a prince who dies in rags, untended, and unknown in his physical relations to this world. And we ought to take the ideal in the beginning that a man’s true estate of power and riches is to be in himself: not in his dwelling; not in his position; not in his external relations, but in his own essential character. That is the realm in which a man must live, if he is to live as a Christian man.—Beecher.

 

The Sinner’s Danger and Refuge.

ii. 10. Enter into the rock, and hide thee in the dust, for fear of the Lord, and for the glory of His majesty.

This is the counsel which the prophet gives his fellow-countrymen, in view of the desolations which God was about to send upon their land on account of their sins. He sees God’s judgments sweeping down upon them like an invading army, and therefore he cries to them, “Flee into the caverns in the mountains:” like the Simoom, and therefore he cries to them, “Hide yourselves in the dust: bow down before the destroying blast from which it is impossible to escape. God has been silent, as if He were indifferent to your transgressions, but now He is coming forth, in all the terrors of His majesty to require the evil doers according to their works.”[1] The counsel is, of course, metaphorical; the rocks and the dust could afford no refuge from an angry God. The summons is to profound and penitential humility, the proper attitude of man to God. It is a summons, therefore, which may be fitly addressed to all men. I. Profound humility in regard to God would be befitting in us as creatures, even were we absolutely without sin. Such humility is reasonable—1. In view of our relation to and dependence upon God. He is our Maker; we are daily pensioners on His bounty; we are the instruments with which He carries out His purposes (ch. x. 15). 2. In view of His position as the Ruler of the universe. 3. In view of the transcendent excellencies of His character. The pupils of a great artist, such as Raphael, the associates of a great patriot, such as Washington, are filled with involuntary admiration and veneration for him. They feel themselves to be as nothing in comparison with him. How much more should we feel so in comparison with God! Those sinless being who see Him as He is show us by their conduct what would be befitting in us even were we also without spot or stain (ch. vi. 2, 3). II. But as sinners that which is befitting in us is, not only profound, but penitential humility. To live without any sense of guilt in our hearts—with indifference to the fact that we have broken God’s laws and are exposed to His judgements—is itself a gross iniquity; it is an outrageous defiance of the majesty in whose presence we are. What would be said of a rebel who in the presence of his outraged sovereign should absolutely ignore him? Would not this be regarded as a repetition of his offence in the most aggravated form? But is not this precisely the offence which every stout-hearted sinner daily commits? As sinners there are two things especially incumbent upon us. 1. To humbly acknowledge that we are exposed to the Divine judgments, and need a refuge therefrom. There are two ways of contemplating the Day of Judgment: (1) As a certain and solemn fact in the history of our race. Contemplating it thus, we may show argumentatively that such an event ought to occur; and we may anticipate to some extent the principles upon which the Judge, when He shall have summoned mankind before His bar, will proceed. We may do this, and be merely theological or rhetorical. Or (2) we may regard it as a certain and terrible fact in our own history. And it is thus that we should regard it. It is we who are to stand before the great White Throne. A realisation of this fact will powerfully affect our feelings and our conduct; we shall (1) acknowledge, at the least, that we need a refuge. And we shall be prepared (2) thankfully to avail ourselves of the refuge which God in His mercy has provided for us. With yet greater fulness and definiteness of meaning God’s messengers can repeat the prophet’s counsel, “Enter into the rock, &c.” The sinner’s refuge is the Son of God, “the Rock of our salvation.” Our refuge from God as our Judge is God Himself as our Saviour. It is as such that He now reveals Himself to us. “Behold now is the day of salvation;” but the day of judgment is at hand! Ere it burst upon us, let us flee unto “the Rock of Israel” (ch. xxx. 29) crying to Him, with penitent confession of our sins,

“Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
 Let me hide myself in Thee.”

FOOTNOTES:

[1] “The iniquity of Ephraim is bound up, their sin is hid” (Hosea xiii. 12). Not that his sin was hid from God, but his sin is hid; that is, it is recorded, it is laid up against a day of reckoning. That this is the meaning, is clear by the foregoing words, his iniquity is bound up; as the clerk of the assizes binds up the indictments of malefactors in a bundle, and, at the assizes, brings out the indictments, and reads them in court, so God binds up men’s sins in a bundle; and, at the day of judgment, this bundle shall be opened, and all their sins brought to light before men and angels.—Watson, 1696.

 

The Great Dethronement.

ii. 18. And the idols He shall utterly abolish.

There are a great number of things which would be incredible if they had not actually happened! Men who, like ourselves, boasted of “reason” and “common sense,” sought to settle their disputes and to vindicate their honour by the duel; they have stoutly believed in witchcraft, in “touching for the king’s evil,” and in other absurdities. But surely the supreme folly of which men have been guilty is idolatry. That men should fashion an idol of wood or stone, and then bow down to worship it, what absurdity is this! Yet I. The idols have had a long reign in the earth. Trace human history back as far as all extant records will enable you to do so, and you will find idols enthroned in the affections of men. That they should ever have been set up there must be regarded as one of Satan’s subtlest and greatest triumphs. The instincts that lead men to worship are so strong, that his only hope of preventing fallen men from returning to their allegiance to God lay in persuading them to worship some other thing or being. His difficulty and his device were those of Jeroboam (1 Kings xii. 26–28). He seems to have led men down step by step: stars, images as representatives, then the images themselves: first, natural principles, then living creatures in which these principles were supposed to be embodied, then the living creatures themselves. To have begun at the end would have been too great a shock; the absurdity as well as the wickedness of such worship would have been too obvious. Thus was the empire of the idols founded, and it continues to this day. II. The empire of the idols has been world-wide. It might have been supposed to be a folly that could be imposed only on a few barbarous tribes, and that all civilised nations would have rejected it with distain; but as a matter of fact, it is precisely among these nations (Egypt, Greece, Rome, Judæa, India) that idolatry flourished most and in its basest forms. Hence the empire of idolatry was co-extensive with the globe. In Elijah’s time even God thought it a great thing that He would assure His prophet that there were seven thousand who had not bowed the knee to Baal (1 Kings xix. 18). III. The idols have been served with passionate devotion. In almost all ages worshippers of idols have put to shame the worshippers of God, by their fidelity to their convictions, the scrupulousness of their observance of the rites which they have esteemed religious, and the greatness of the cost at which they have done honour to their gods. IV. The idols have had for their allies the most influential of social and moral forces. Their priests and dependents (Acts. xix. 25) have jealously watched every encroachment on the empire of their gods. Rulers, for political reasons, have strenuously endeavoured to uphold the national faiths. Custom and fashion have wrought in the same direction. But, above all, the idols have had their most powerful allies in the human breast—in the instinct of worship, and the craving for sensual indulgences. Idolatry has combined these most powerful of all cravings—has provided deities in whose worship the worst passions of man’s animal nature have been gratified. V. Nevertheless the empire of idolatry shall be utterly destroyed. It shall vanish as utterly as the great empire of Assyria. “The idols He shall utterly abolish.” Already that empire has been overthrown where it seemed most firmly established, and the complete fulfilment of the prediction of our text is obviously now only a question of time. Even in heathen countries, men are becoming ashamed of their idols, and are representing them as merely the media of worship. The victory of Christianity over idolatry is already assured. The struggles that are yet to shake the world will be, not between Christianity and idolatry; not even between Christianity and atheism, for atheism is necessarily merely a brief episode in human experience; but between Christianity and other forms of monotheism.

Application. 1. In the wide-spread and long-continued empire of the idols we have a conclusive proof of man’s need of a Divine revelation. The natural progress of fallen man is not to light, but to darkness (Rom. i. 21–23; 1 Cor. i. 21). 2. In the prediction of our text, we have a conclusive proof of that in the Bible we have such a revelation. Consider the circumstances of the prophet: idolatry on every hand, corrupting even His own people. It was contrary to all experience; it must have seemed to many who first heard it as the ravings of a lunatic. Such a prediction, already so marvellously fulfilled, came from God! 3. In the approaching complete fulfilment of the prediction of our text, let us rejoice. And let us labour as well as pray, that the time may be hastened when by idolatry God shall be no longer dishonoured and man degraded.

 

Man’s Insignificance and God’s Supremacy.

ii. 22. Cease ye from man, whose breath is in his nostrils: for wherein is he to be accounted of?

In this verse the whole Bible is summed up. The folly of trusting in man, and the necessity of trusting in God alone, is its greatest lesson, from its commencement to its close. This is what we are taught—I. By its record of God’s providential dealings with the Jews and other nations. Continually He has accomplished His ends by very different means than man would have selected. Egypt saved from perishing by famine through the instrumentality of a young slave; Naaman delivered from his leprosy through the ministrations of a little maid; Israel rescued by Gideon and his three hundred soldiers; the boastful Philistines defeated by a young shepherd, &c. II. By the grand scheme of human redemption which it discloses. In it God is everything, and man nothing. The only means by which man can be restored to holiness, to the Divine favour and life everlasting, were provided by God; man contributed nothing either to its completeness or efficiency. The benefit is man’s, the glory all belongs to God. Nor in appropriating it does he do anything that is meritorious. In repentance there is no merit: it is simply that state of mind which is required of us in view of the sins we have committed. Nor in faith; it is simply the recognition of the ability of another, and the consequent entrustment of ourselves to Him, to do that for us which we confess our inability to do for ourselves.—Blessed is the man, and he only, who has learned these two things. So long as a man depends on his own wisdom, power, and goodness, or on the wisdom, power and goodness of other men, he must be disquieted and unhappy. We can attain to substantial quiet and an abiding satisfying peace only when we feel that our dependence is on a Being omnipresent, independent, and supreme, as well as abundant in truth and love (Isa. xxvi. 3).—Joseph Holdech, D.D., American National Preacher, xxxvi. 255–265.

 

Lessons from a National Bereavement.

(Sermon preached on the Sunday after the death of President Harrison.)

ii. 22. Cease ye from man, whose breath is in his nostrils: for wherein is he to be accounted of?

The event which has just befallen us as a nation is fitted to teach—I. The vanity of human dependence. The atheism of the human heart displays itself in a disposition to confide entirely in an arm of flesh. This is so in the family, the church, the nation. In various ways God endeavours to teach nations their real dependence upon Himself—by famine, by pestilence, by commercial disasters, by the death of their rulers. What “fools” we must be, and how “brutish” must be our understanding, if we do not lay to heart the lesson which He has now given us (Ps. cxlvi. 3). II. The pettiness of party strife. How much of selfishness, unkindness, anger, and untruthfulness does the spirit of party give birth to! How seldom politicians of opposite parties do each other common justice! How fierce are their rivalries! But how mean, how worthless, how unworthy appear the objects of their strife when death enters the arenas and waves his skeleton arm! What a great calm falls upon the agitated spirits of men! How noise is hushed and excitement subdued! How like do the flushed and eager politicians seem then to silly children quarrelling for the possession of a bubble that has just been blown into the air, and that will disappear the moment it is grasped![1] III. The vanity of the world, the certainty of death, and the nearness of eternity. These lessons are taught when a beggar dies, but are more likely to be laid to heart when a prince is laid low.[2] IV. The supreme importance of a right moral character. Most instructive is the interest felt by survivors in the moral character of the departed, in the evidences of his preparation for death, in the manner in which the great summons affected him. This is the testimony of the human conscience, that in comparison with a fitness to appear before the tribunal of God, everything else loses its importance. When was the amount of a man’s possessions inscribed on his tombstone? The bare suggestion of such a thing would be construed as a mockery of death, under whose denuding hand the rich man leaves the world naked as he entered it. But if, in all his life, there was one virtue in his moral character, one trait which can afford satisfactory evidence of God’s approval, this, be sure, you will find sculptured in conspicuous characters on his monumental marble. One thing alone can prepare any for their last account—the belief and practice of the Gospel of God. Have you the great calm which is inspired by the confidence of being prepared for the great change?—W. Adams, American National Preacher, xv. 97–105.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Here, like a shepherd gazing from his hut,
Touching his reed, or leaning on his staff,
Eager Ambition’s fiery chase I see;
I see the circling hunt of noisy men
Burst law’s enclosure, leap the mounts of right,
Pursuing and pursued, each other’s prey;
As wolves for rapine; as the fox for wiles;
Till Death, that mighty hunter, earths them all.
    Why all this toil for triumphs of an hour?
What though we wade in wealth, or soar in fame?
Earth’s highest station ends in “Here he lies”—
And “Dust to dust” concludes her noblest song.—Young.

[2] The glories of our birth and state
    Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armour against fate:
    Death lays his icy hand on kings;
          Sceptre and crown
          Must tumble down,
And in the dust be equal made
With the poor crooked scythe and spade.

Some men with swords may reap the field,
    And plant fresh laurels where they kill;
But their strong nerves at last must yield:
    They tame but one another still;
          Early or late
          They stoop to fate,
And must give up their murmuring breath,
When they, pale captives, creep to death.

The garlands wither on your brow;
    Then boast no more your mighty deeds;
Upon death’s purple altar, now,
    See where the victor victim bleeds!
          All heads must come
          To the cold tomb!
Only the actions of the just
Smell sweet and blossom in the dust.—Shirley.

 

The Death of Statesmen.

(Funeral Sermon for the Right Hon. George Canning.)

iii. 1–3. For, behold, the Lord, the Lord of hosts, doth take away from Jerusalem and from Judah . . . the counsellor, . . . and the eloquent orator.

By the death of a great statesman at the head of a government, we are reminded.—I. Of the weight of government in a fallen world. It is a burden that has crushed many, and has brought them to an untimely grave. II. Of the weakness of the shoulders of mortal men. The government of a single country, especially in troublous times, has proved a burden too great for the courage and the endurance of the strongest of men. III. Of the uncertainty of all human affairs. Often does the statesman think of the uncertainty of arriving at the object of his ambition, but seldom of the uncertainty of his remaining there, except when he recollects how many are struggling to replace him. Little does he think of another foe, who lurks behind, and who in some unexpected moment will hush his eloquent tongue, and turn his fertile brain to dust. IV. Of our absolute dependence on the Supreme Governor. We are apt to think that it is on the profound counsellor and mighty orator that the nation’s welfare depends, and to think little of Him who made them what they are, to be employed as He pleases, laid aside when He pleases, and replaced if He pleases, by others as richly endowed. V. Of the necessity of personal preparation for death.[1]J. Bennett, D.D., The British Pulpit, i. 297–304.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] So live, that, when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan, that moves
To that mysterious realm where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not like the quarry slave at night
Scourged to his dungeon; but, sustained and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave
Like one that wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.—Bryant.

 

National Greatness.

iii. 1–8. For, behold, &c.

I. The elements of national greatness are intellectual and moral, rather than material. A nation may have “the staff of bread” and “the stay of water,” but lacking the persons enumerated in ver. 2, 3, it cannot be a great nation. While, therefore, it is reasonable to put forth efforts to increase the material resources of the nation, we should be more concerned to improve the producers than the produce. II. For the supply and continuance of these supreme elements of national greatness, we are absolutely dependent upon God. Well to remember that for all material blessings we are absolutely dependent upon Him. The moral value of a bad harvest is often great; it reminds us that, do what the most skilful agriculturists may, it is “God that giveth the increase.” Nor less dependent are we upon Him for the men without whom no nation can be great. Wise statesmen, skilful inventors, eloquent orators, &c., are very special gifts of God; such men cannot be manufactured. III. These essential elements of national greatness God will take away for those nations that are regardless of His goodness and defiant of His authority (ver. 1, 8). National sins bring on national judgments. No national judgment is more severe or prolific of disasters than the removal or denial of great leaders. IV. Not only can God abase the greatest nation, but He can reduce it to the depths of humiliation which beforehand it would have regarded as inconceivable. See through what states of national sorrow and shame the prophet declared that Israel should be led. 1. The diminution of its material resources and the removal of all its leaders of society (ver. 1–3). 2. The government entrusted to weak and childish rulers (ver. 4). 3. Social anarchy (ver. 5). 4. Social degradation so extreme, that men are solicited to rule merely because they have a little wealth (ver. 6). 5. The last state of national degradation—its supreme places of authority have become so contemptible and perilous that no one can be induced to fill them (ver. 7).

These considerations concern us individually. The nation is but an aggregate of individuals; and what they are, it is. Hence it behoves us—1. To strive after personal holiness. This seems a very small remedy for national evils. But it is only by each man adopting it that the nation can be made religious. If each drop in the ocean could eliminate the salt with which it is charged, the ocean would become fresh. Besides, by our example we may stimulate others to personal reforms, and they again others. 2. To entreat God to deal with us as a nation in the way of mercy, and not of judgment (Ps. ciii. 10). There is a mighty power in intercessory prayer. 3. Diligently to promote all moral and social reforms. We must labour as well as pray. A Christian man will assist in all political reforms, because it is the will of God that righteousness should prevail in all things. But much more interested will he be in all movements and institutions having for their end and the intellectual and moral advancement of the people: the school, the temperance society, better dwellings for the working classes, the diffusion of a pure literature, &c. 4. To put forth constant efforts to bring and keep our fellow-countrymen under the influence of the Gospel. Of all regenerative and conservative influences the Gospel is the most active and powerful. A nation composed entirely of genuine Christians would be at once the most happy, prosperous, and powerful the world has ever seen. The direct and short way to exalt Great Britain is to strive to lead all our countrymen to the knowledge and service of Christ. This is a work, not for ministers only, but for the whole Church. There would be more happy Christians if there were more working Christians. It is not the running brooks, but the standing pools, that become stagnant.

 

Shameless Sinners.

iii. 9. They declare their sin as Sodom, they hide it not.

Extremes are generally detestable: equatorial heat, arctic cold; the speaker whom we must strain to hear, the orator who roars, &c. So in morals: foolhardy rashness, cowardice; prodigality, penuriousness; hypocrites, and such shameless sinners as are spoken of here. Such persons are even more detestable than hypocrites; these at least pay this homage to virtue, that they array themselves in her outer garments. Desperate and vain is the endeavour to cloak iniquity, yet even this is better than the effrontery which leads some to flaunt it in open day. How surprising is such effrontery! When we consider what sin is—a thing horribly degrading to man as well as insufferably offensive to God—we should have expected beforehand that men would have been as anxious to hide their vices, as they are to conceal any loathsome disease with which they may be afflicted. But it is not so. There are tens of thousands of sinners as devoid of shame as were those who dwelt in Sodom; nay, they glory in their shame. Consider—

I. The Causes of Shamelessness in Sin.

1. Ignorance. There are many so uninterested in moral and spiritual things; they have grown up surrounded by such evil examples, that they have no consciousness of the foulness of their vices, any more than a peasant has of the ungracefulness of his manners. This cause operates among the lower classes to an extent scarcely conceivable by the cultured and refined. 2. Habit. Many an open and shameless sinner, at the outset of his career, when he was first betrayed into transgression, was ashamed almost to walk through the street, and imagined that every one whom he met had heard of, and despised him for, his offence. But the offence was repeated; it became a habit; and in proportion as it has done so, has the offender’s sense of shame died out of him. He thinks as little of it as a soldier does of his uniform, which when it was first put on caused him to think that all eyes were fixed upon him. 3. A desire to silence conscience. The effrontery is often assumed, just as the rustic traveller when near a churchyard whistles, not because he is courageous, but to keep his courage up. Conscience reproaches and warns, and the sinner seeks to silence it by greater desperation in wickedness. 4. A seared conscience. In the course just named the sinner too often succeeds. Conscience, defied and outraged, desists from her useless efforts, and gives herself over to an insensible lethargy; there will come an hour of terrible awakening; but meanwhile she is blind, deaf, dumb, and the sinner perpetrates the most abominable iniquities without a blush.[1] 5. Infidelity. The sinner has succeeded at last in persuading himself that what he wishes were true is true, and that there is no God, and, consequently, no day of judgment and no hell. As soon as men have cast off fear of God, it is easy for them to cast off fear of men. The ordinary fruit of infidelity is vice. What but prudence is left to restrain the infidel from partaking in the pleasures of sin? And how weak prudence is in any real contest with passion!

II. The Consequences of Shamelessness in Sin.

This is declared by the prophet to be woe—woe of peculiar intensity and awfulness. “Woe unto their soul!” &c. They stand in peril of the severest chastisements of the Divine justice—1. Because shamelessness in sin is an aggravation of sin. It is felt to be so in the home, in the nation. Disloyalty is an evil thing, but to break forth into open rebellion, and to take the field against the monarch, is worse. 2. Because shamelessness in sin adds to the contagiousness of sin. One reason why sin is so hateful in the sight of God is because it renders every sinner a moral pestilence. Corrupt, he corrupts others (Eccles. ix. 18). But of shameless sinners this is especially true. (1) They lead many to imitate them in their wickedness. In every community these shameless sinners are ringleaders in vice and recruiting-sergeants for the devil. (2) They confirm many in wickedness. Many are “halting between two opinions,” and these shameless offenders, by their example, and often by their persuasions, supply that which is needed to bring these irresolute ones to a decision for a life of iniquity. Thus they are soul-murderers as well as soul-suicides. Justice, therefore, demands that their punishment shall be especially severe. Their doom will probably be as manifest as their guilt.

Application. 1. Let those who have been thus shameless in sin humble themselves before Almighty God. Even for them to-day there is mercy (ch. lv. 7; i. 18). Let no sinner be deterred from seeking mercy by the greatness of his sins (Ezra ix. 6, with Ps. cviii. 4, and Rom. v. 20). Yet let no sinner presume further to transgress because God is so merciful. There is an awful warning in the gracious invitation (ch. lv. 6). 2. As ignorance is one main cause of shamelessness in sin, let Sunday-school teachers recognise the importance of the task in which they are engaged. Though they may not be able to point to individual conversions as the result of their efforts, they are not labouring in vain; by them the moral sense of the community is being raised. Evil as are our days, the testimony is conclusive that the former days were not better, but worse. 3. As habit is another main cause of shamelessness in sin, let the young be anxiously on their guard against the formation of evil habits. But habits grow from acts. A single action is consequently more important than it seems. There are certain actions which have in themselves a special decisiveness of influence. When a young man has once entered a bar parlour, he has entered upon the high way to drunkenness; he may not reach it, but he is on the high way to it. Another most decisive step towards shamelessness in sin is taken when a young person who has been trained under Christian influence joins a Sunday excursion. It is by this gate that millions have entered the path of open transgression, along which they have hastened to perdition. 4. Let the people of God be very careful to leave shameless sinners without excuse. It is by the inconsistencies of professing Christians that such persons endeavour to shield themselves from censure and to silence their consciences. Hence Eph. v. 15; Col. iv. 5; 1 Thess. v. 22.