FOOTNOTES:
[1] Blind and ignorant consciences speak peace, or hold their peace, because they have not skill enough to find fault; they swallow many a fly, and digest all well enough. While the scales were upon Paul’s eyes, he was alive and quiet; he thought concupiscence, the sin and breeder of all sin, to be no sin. Such consciences discern sin as we do stars in a dark night,—see only the great ones of the first magnitude, whereas a bright even discovers millions; or as we see a few motes in the dark houses, which sunlight shows to be infinite. Such think good meaning will serve the turn, that all religions will save, or a “Lord, have mercy on us,” at the last gasp. The law which nature has engraven, they tread out with sins, as men do the engravings of tombs they walk on with foul shoes: they dare not look in the glass of God’s law, which makes sin abound, lest the foolishness of their souls should affright them. A number of such sottish souls there be, whose consciences, if God opens, as He did the eyes of the prophet’s servant, they shall see armies and legions of sins and devils in them.—Ward, 1577–1639.
Cheering Words and Solemn Warnings.
iii. 10, 11. Say ye to the righteous, that it shall be well with him; for they shall eat of the fruit of their own doings. Woe unto the wicked! it shall be ill with them; for the reward of his hands shall be given him.
Into these two orders, the righteous and the wicked, the Bible is accustomed to divide the whole population of the globe.—A crimson line runs between the righteous and the wicked, the line of atoning sacrifice: faith crosses that line, but nothing else can. There can be no righteousness where there is no faith.—This distinction is so sharp and definite, that no man can dwell in a borderland between the two conditions. A clear line of demarcation exists between life and death, and such a division is fixed by God between the righteous and the wicked. There are no monstrous nondescripts, who are neither sinners nor saints. This text ought, therefore, to lead to great searching of heart.
I. The well-being of the righteous. 1. It is a great fact that it is well with the righteous. It is well with him always: in prosperity, which is a time of peril; in persecution, which is hard to bear; in childhood, manhood, and old age; in time, and throughout eternity. 2. We are assured of this fact on Divine authority. Reason might assure us of it, but it is better to have it under the hand and seal of omniscience. If thou canst not see it, let God’s word stand thee instead of sight. 3. It is the will of God that His people should know this great fact. He would have his saints happy, and therefore He says to His prophets, “Say ye,” &c. 4. With God’s people it is emphatically “well.” When God says it is “well” with a man, it must be well indeed. 5. There are many obvious reasons why it is well with the righteous. (1.) His greatest trouble is past. His greatest trouble was the guilt of sin. (2.) His next greatest trouble is doomed. The dominion of sin over him shall speedily come to an end. (3.) His best things are safe. His treasures are in heaven. (4.) His worst things work only for his good. (5.) He is well fed, for he feeds upon Christ; well clad, for he wears the imputed righteousness of Christ; well housed, for he dwells in God who has been the dwelling-place of His people in all generations; well married, for his soul is knit in bonds of marriage union to Christ; well provided for, for the Lord is his Shepherd. (6.) God has put within him many graces, that help to make things well; faith, which laughs at difficulties; love, which accepts them; patience, which endures them; hope, which expects a rest to come. (7.) Day by day, God the Holy Ghost visits him with fresh life and power. (8.) He has a bank that never breaks—the glorious “throne of grace;” and he has only to apply on bended knee to get what he will. (9.) He has ever near him a most sweet Companion, whose loving converse is so delightful that the roughest roads grow smooth, and the darkest nights glow with brightness. (10.) He has an arm to lean upon that is never weary, never feeble, never withdrawn. (11.) He is favoured with a perpetual Comforter, who pours wine and oil into every wound, and brings to his remembrance the things which Christ has spoken. It is well with the righteous in life, well when he comes to die, and well after death. 6. The blessedness of the righteous rest upon a solid ground. The text says, “they shall eat the fruit of their doings.” Those are the only terms upon which the old covenant can promise that it shall be well with us; but this is not the ground upon which you and I stand under the gospel dispensation. Absolutely to eat the fruit of our doings would be even to us, if judgment were brought to the line and righteousness to the plummet, a very dreadful thing. Yet there is a limited sense in which the righteous man will do this. “I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat,” &c., is good gospel language; and when the Master shall say, “Inasmuch as ye did this unto one of the least of these my people, ye did it unto me,” the reward will not be of debt, but still it will be a reward, and the righteous will eat the fruit of his doings. I prefer, however, to remark, that there is One whose doings for us is the grounds of our dependence, and we shall eat of the fruit of His doings.
II. The misery of the wicked. To expound the woe pronounced against him, you have only to negative all that I have already said about the righteous. It is ill with the wicked; always ill with him; and it shall be ill with him for ever.[1] But why is it ill with the wicked? 1. He is out of joint with all the world. Ordinary creatures are obedient to God, but he has set himself in opposition to the whole current of creation. 2. He has an enemy who is omnipotent. 3. His joys all hang on a thread. Let life’s thread be cut, and where are his merriments? 4. After these joys are over, he has no more to come. 5. Of all the comforts and hopes of the righteous, he is utterly destitute.—C. H. Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit, vol. xiii. 13–24.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Many sinners who seem so jocund in our eyes have not such merry lives as you think. A book may be fairly bound and gilded, yet have but sad stories writ within it. Sinners will not tell us all the secret rebukes that conscience gives them. If you will judge of Herod by the jollity of his feast, you may think he wanted no joy; but at another time we see that John’s ghost walked in his conscience. And so doth the Word haunt many, who appear to us to lay nothing to heart. In the midst of their laughter their heart is sad; you see the lightning in their face, but hear not the thunder that rumbles in their conscience.—Gurnall, 1617–1679.
Suppose a man were in prison, committed for some great offence, and condemned to die under the displeasure of his prince or state, and his servant should come to him, saying, “Sir, be of good comfort; your wife is well at home; you have very sweet children, an excellent crop of corn; your neighbours love you dearly; your sheep and cattle thrive, and all your houses are in good repair.” Would he not answer that servant, “What is all this, so long as I am condemned to die”? Thus is it with every wicked man. He is under the displeasure of the great God, a condemned man, and God is angry with him every day; and if his heart were open to be sensible of it, he would say, “You tell me of my friends, and goods, and name, and trade; but what is all this, so long as I am a condemned person, and God is angry with me every day I rise?”—Bridge, 1600–1670.
Who would think, now, that sees how quietly the multitude of the ungodly live, that they must very shortly lie roaring in everlasting flames? They lie down, and rise, and sleep so quietly; they eat and drink as quietly; they go about their work as cheerfully; they talk as pleasantly, as if nothing ailed them, or as if they were as far out of danger as an obedient believer. Like a man that hath the falling sickness, you would little think, while he is labouring as strongly and talking as heartily as another man, how he will presently fall down, lie gasping and foaming, and beating his breast in torment! so it is with these men. They are as free from the fears of hell as others, as free from any vexing sorrows, not so much as troubled with any cares of the state of their souls, nor with any sad and serious thoughts of what shall become of them in another world; yes, and for the most part, they have less doubts and disquiet of mind, than those who shall be saved. Oh, happy men, if they could be always thus; and if this peace would prove a lasting peace! But, alas, there is the misery! it will not. They are now in their own element, as the fish in the water; but little knows that silly creature when he is most fearlessly and delightfully swallowing down the bait, how suddenly he shall be snatched out, and lie dead upon the bank; and as little think these careless sinners what a change is near. The sheep or ox is driven quietly to the slaughter, because he knows not whither he goes; if he knew it were to his death, you could not drive him so easily. How contented is the swine when the butcher’s knife is shaving his throat, little thinking that it is to prepare for his death! Why, it is even so with these sensual, careless men; they fear the mischief least, when it is nearest to them, because they see it not!—Baxter, 1615–1691.
The Great Law of Recompense.
iii. 10, 11. Say ye to the righteous, &c.
This is the testimony of conscience; conscience testifies that that which is here predicted ought to take place—that the condition and circumstances of men ought to be conformed to their character. This is the testimony of reason: in its clearest, calmest, strongest hours, it endorses this testimony of the conscience. This is the declaration of Almighty God; He here promises that He will do that which conscience and reason agree that He ought to do. Thus we have here a conclusive concurrence of testimony, and the truths announced in our text should be recorded in our memory as absolutely certain.
These declarations remind us of two things. I. That we are living now in a season of probation. These messages are much needed, because we are surrounded by much that is perplexing. Here and now fidelity to conscience often entails much loss, sorrow, and suffering. Many of the wicked are prosperous and triumphant. Iniquity pays. Moreover, the sufferings of the righteous and the successes of the wicked are often lifelong. This contrast between what ought to be and what is, has been a source of moral disquietude in all ages (Ps. lxxiii., &c). Yet it is absolutely necessary. Without this moral obscurity there could not have been any moral probation. There is no temptation in prussic acid, because its deadly qualities are indisputable, and because they operate instantaneously. If all sins had their penalties as clearly and closely tied to them, vice would be impossible. And so would virtue! Obedience to the Divine will would then be, not an act of choice, but the result of an irresistible moral compulsion, and it would have in it no morally educational influence, and nothing to render it acceptable to God. Not by chance, then, not by mistake, not as the result of a harsh and unloving decree, but as the result of ordinance of the highest wisdom and grace, we are now living in a season of moral probation. But, II. We are hastening on to a season of rectifications and rewards. Conscience and reason attest that there ought to be such a season, and the Scriptures assure us that there shall be (Eccles. xii. 14; Rom. ii. 6–10, &c.)
The great facts of which our text reminds us, 1. Should give calmness and steadiness to our faith. We should not be greatly moved either by the distresses of the righteous or the triumphs of the wicked. These are most transient. The longest life is really a most inconsiderable episode in our being. This is but the beginning of our voyage; what matters it whether we clear out of port in a storm or amid bright sunshine? What will happen to us on mid-ocean is the only thing worthy of our concern. 2. They should govern us in the decisions we have continually to make in life, between courses that are right, but involve present suffering, and those which are pleasant, but wrong. The sick man who refuses to undergo the present pain which will assure him of future health, and prefers the transient ease which will presently give place to intolerable agony, is insane. Let us not imitate him in his folly. But if the rewards of every man’s hands shall be given him, how shall any man be saved? This is precisely the difficulty which the Gospel was designed to meet. It is precisely because no man can be saved on his own merits that Christ came into the World, and died for every man, and now offers redemption to every man. This offer is made to you. For Christ’s sake, the sins of the righteous shall be forgiven them; and for His sake likewise, they shall be rewarded according to their works (Matt. x. 42, xvi. 27; Heb. vi. 10, &c.) Between the doctrine of justification by faith and the doctrine of good works there is the most perfect harmony.
The Curse of a Weak Government.
iii. 12. As for my people, children are their oppressors, and women rule over them.
“Children,” “women,” are not to be taken literally. In interpreting the second of these figures, we must remember the status of women in ancient times in the East. I. A weak government is a curse. 1. By such a government the affairs of a nation are mismanaged, its resources squandered, and its great possibilities unrealised. 2. A weak government always becomes in the end an oppressive government. By it the national burdens are caused to press most heavily on those least able to bear them. 3. Under such a government, privileged classes and monopolies multiply and grow strong, to the hurt of the nation at large. 4. Worst of all, and as the source of countless evils, government itself comes to be despised, and the national respect for law destroyed. In short, under a weak government a nation makes rapid progress towards anarchy. II. The curse of a weak government is not long in overtaking a nation that gives itself up to luxury and loses its regard for moral considerations. 1. It is only by such a nation that such a government would be tolerated. 2. By such a nation such a government is likely to be for a time most popular (Jer. v. 31).
The cures for political evils are not political but moral. Political remedies will but modify the symptoms. Political evils are really due to moral causes, and can only be removed by moral reformations. Hence, while good men will never neglect their political duties (no good man will neglect any duty), they will be especially in earnest to uplift the nation morally, and therefore will do their utmost to strengthen those agencies which have this for their aim—the church, the school, and those societies which exist for the diffusion of the Scriptures and of religious liberty. Wherever the Bible becomes the book of the people, oppression by “children” becomes impossible, and the government of “women” is set aside.
Blind Leaders.
iii. 12. O my people, they which lead thee[1] cause thee to err, and destroy the way of thy paths.
This is at once a lament and a condemnation—a lament over the misfortunes of those who are misguided, a condemnation of their folly and wickedness in permitting themselves to be led astray. I. Men need to be led. 1. This is our need as individuals. Every day we need an answer to the questions, What ought I to do? Which way should I go? In the journey of life, we continually come to crossings at which we are conscious of our need of guidance. 2. Guidance is still more necessary for men collectively. What shall be the belief of a community? What its action? Like the apostolic band (John xxi. 2, 3) communities remain idle, undecided, until the born leader says, “I go a-fishing,” and instantly they say to him, “We also go with thee.” Men are naturally gregarious; like a flock of sheep they crowd and inconvenience each other, not knowing which way to turn, until one bolder than the rest breaks away from the flock, and then instantly the flock begins to follow him. II. As a rule men are misled. Boldness and wisdom do not always go together. Not seldom the courage which prompts men to become the leaders of others, and which goes so far to command the assent of others, is a compound of self-conceit and ignorance. Men are always prone to trust in the self-confident: they will believe the boastful quack rather than the diffident philosopher. Hence in all ages men have been caused to err—the blind have been led by the blind. How true this is to-day in political matters, in social, in commercial, in religious! [Give instances.] On every hand, in all these realms of thought and action, there are those who can only rightly be described as leaders who cause the people to err. Yes, all men carry within them two leaders, in whom they are disposed implicitly to trust, but by whom in the majority of instances they are misled—reason and conscience. How absolute is the confidence placed in these guides, and how seldom it is justified! III. To be misled is one of the most terrible of evils. 1. It involves the loss of all the good to which right leadership would have conducted men. 2. It involves disappointment, shame, sorrow, and often irretrievable ruin. 3. It plunges men into painful perplexities, so that even when they have begun to suspect that the path they are pursuing is erroneous, they know not how to discover the true one; it seems to them to be “destroyed;” they search for it in vain. They are like travellers who, in the darkness following Will-of-the-Wisp, have strayed from the highway into a morass: to stand still is impossible, and yet to step in any direction, may plunge them into worse perils (Matt. xv. 14). How criminal is the conduct of those who betray their fellow-men into misery such as this!
In view of these facts, 1. We should not entrust ourselves to the first guide who offers himself to us. Let us examine the credentials of those who ask us to trust ourselves to their care (Matt. xxiv. 24; 1 John iv. 1–3; Isa. viii. 20). 2. In weighing the claims of men to be our leaders, we should have regard supremely to their moral qualifications. Their intellectual competency is, of course, not to be disregarded, but moral character is infinitely more important. Not all good men are fitted to be leaders; but no bad man can be safely followed by others. He is continually apt to be guided by policy, rather than principle, and policy leads to perdition.[2] Policy is at the best but guess-work—steering by the current; the man who is governed by principle steers by the stars, and neither can be long misled, nor will he wilfully mislead others. Practical Application.—Never vote for any candidate for a public office, however clever he may be, if his integrity is doubtful. 3. Every man needs guidance more close and intimate than any of his fellow-men can afford him: he needs to be led even in choosing his leaders. Whither shall he look for this guidance? To his reason, his conscience? These guides themselves need instruction:[3] in the absence of it, they have led millions to perdition. We need supernatural and sure guidance, and we have it (1) in God’s Word, and (2) in God’s Spirit (Prov. iii. 5, 6). The man who follows these guides will be led always in the paths of righteousness and peace.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The marginal reading, “they which call thee happy” (Mal. iii. 12, 15), represents vividly the method adopted by the false prophets; who, instead of warning the people against the dangers of prosperity, were ever felicitating them upon it, saying, “Peace, peace, when there was no peace.” But the textual rendering appears to be the preferable one.—Kay.
[2] Men know where they are going when they follow a principle; because principles are rays of light. If you trace a ray of light in all its reflections, you will find that it runs back to the central sun; and every great line of honesty, every great line of honour, runs back towards the centre of God. And the man that follows these things knows that he is steering right Godward. But the man that follows policies, and worldly maxims, does not know where he is steering, except that in general he is steering toward the devil.—Beecher.
[3] Reason is God’s candle in men. But, as a candle must first be lighted, ere it will enlighten, so reason must be illuminated by Divine grace, ere it can savingly discern spiritual things.—Toplady, 1740–1778.
Conscience, as an expression of the law or will and mind of God, is not now to be implicitly depended on. It is not infallible. What was true of its office in Eden, has been deranged and shattered by the fall; and now lies, as I have seen a sun-dial in the neglected garden of an old, desolate ruin, thrown down from its pedestal, prostrate on the ground, and covered by tall, rank weeds. So far from being since that fatal event an infallible directory of duty, conscience has often lent its sanction to the grossest errors, and prompted to the greatest crimes. Did not Saul of Tarsus, for instance, hale men and women to prison; compel them to blaspheme; and imbrue his hands in saintly blood, while conscience approved the deed—he judging the while that he did God service? What wild and profane imaginations has it accepted as the oracles of God? and as if fiends had taken possession of a God-deserted shrine, have not the foulest crimes, as well as the most shocking cruelties, been perpetrated in its name? Read the Book of Martyrs, read the sufferings of our forefathers; and, under the cowl of a shaven monk, or the trappings of a haughty Churchman, you shall see conscience persecuting the saints of God, and dragging even tender women and children to the bloody scaffold or the burning stake. With eyes swimming in tears, or flashing fire, we close the painful record, to apply to Conscience the words addressed to Liberty by the French heroine, when, passing its statue, she rose in the cart that bore her to the guillotine, and throwing up her arms, exclaimed, “O Liberty, what crimes have been done in thy name!” And what crimes in thine, O Conscience! deeds from which even humanity shrinks; against which religion lifts her loudest protest; and which furnish the best explanation of these awful words, “If the light that is in you be darkness, how great is that darkness!” (Matt. vi. 23).
So far as doctrines and duties are concerned, not conscience, but the revealed Word of God, is our one, only sure and safe directory.—Guthrie.
Oppression of the Poor.
iii. 15. What mean ye that ye beat my people to pieces, and grind the faces of the poor? saith the Lord God of hosts.
That infidelity should progress among the labouring classes is one of the most surprising and unreasonable things imaginable. For there is no book so emphatically on the side of the poor as is the Bible. Were the Bible obeyed, the miseries of the poor would vanish. The truth, however, is, that the Bible has suffered from its professed friends. The upper classes who have patronised it have not put its precepts into practice, and the victims of their greed and oppression have foolishly accepted their conduct as an exposition of the teaching of the book which they have professed to venerate. Hence the wrongs which the poor have suffered have prepared them to listen to the blasphemies and to accept the sophisms of infidel lecturers. The employer of labour who oppresses his men during the six days of the week, and goes to church twice on the Sunday, is more dangerous to society than a score of Tom Paines or Bradlaughs. Hence also it is the duty of God’s “prophets” in all ages to confront such men with the question of our text.
I. Oppression of the poor is one of the most common of all sins. It has been practised in all ages, in all countries, by all classes, in most varied forms. “Poor” is a relative term. Masters have oppressed their servants, debtors their creditors, officers their soldiers, kings their subjects, people their pastors. The oppression has often been so terrible that the oppressed have sought refuge in suicide.
“Man’s cruelty to man
Makes countless thousands mourn.”
II. Oppression of the poor is one of the most hateful of all sins. 1. It is a misuse of strength. Strength is given to men that they may be helpful to each other; but the oppressor uses his strength as if he were a tiger or a wolf; as if he were a wrecker who drowns the shipwrecked mariner whom he ought to rescue. 2. It is a cowardly and shameful advantage that is taken of human weakness. To lead a blind man into a quagmire or over a precipice would be thought a shameful act, even by the most degraded villains. But in what respect would it differ in principle from oppression of the poor? The weak and needy, by reason of their feebleness and poverty, have a claim upon our pity and help; to oppress them is to outrage the primary laws of conscience. Yet how often it is done!
III. Oppression of the poor is among those sins which are certain to be most terribly punished. The oppressor proceeds on the idea, that the man whom he oppresses has no friends to succour and avenge him. What a mistake! All the oppressed have a friend and avenger in God. Shall oppression go unrequited? Nay, verily! For, 1. It is an offence against God’s laws. He has distinctly commanded us to love our neighbour as ourselves, and how manifold are the applications of this great commandment! 2. It is an offence against God’s feelings. In a peculiar manner His sensibilities are outraged when His children act cruelly towards each other. Oppression of the poor kindles within Him mingled disgust and indignation.[1]
Application. 1. A new consideration of our text would deter men from the sin here denounced. The question which God now addresses to oppressors He will, with a slight difference, put to them again—when they shall be gathered at His bar! “What meant ye that ye did beat my people to pieces, and did grind the faces of the poor?” Bethink you, O ye oppressors, what will ye answer then? Will it be, “Lord, we thought Thou were too great to take any notice of what men did on earth”? or, “Lord, we oppressed them because they were weak, and we saw we could make a good profit out of their defencelessness”? Do these excuses seem to you too flimsy to be seriously suggested? Consider, the, what more valid vindication will be at your command in that day. In that day you will stand “speechless!” 2. A remembrance of the prevalence of the crime denounced in our text will give soundness and vigour to our theology. The demand of our day is for “a God all mercy.” Men are endeavouring to cover up hell with the rose-leaves of a spurious benevolence. But a remembrance of the wrongs that are done upon earth, the frightful cruelties that are every day perpetrated, will convince us that hell is a moral necessity. “A God all mercy” would be not only “a God unkind,” but a God unjust, a God worthy only of the pity and contempt of His creatures. 3. A due consideration of the manner in which God intervenes on behalf of the wronged and defenceless, will inspire all noble minds with veneration and admiration for His character. Jehovah is no Brahma, throned in eternal calm, and indifferent to the sins and sufferings of mankind; He is a Father, prompt to feel and to avenge the wrongs of His children. Let us resolve to be like Him. Let us not only avoid oppression in all its forms; let us be swift to sympathise with all and to succour the oppressed.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] These things are done before God, who looks upon every part of the human family as His own. How should you feel if you were to enter the room where your child is sleeping, and find upon it a stealthy cat, stationed at the portal of life, and stopping its very breath? How should you feel were you to find upon your child a vampire that had fastened into its flesh his blood-sucking bill, and was fast consuming its vitality? How do you feel when one of your children tramples upon another? or when your neighbour’s children crush yours? or when ruffian violence strikes against those whose hearts for ever carry the core of your heart?
Judge from your own feelings how God, with His infinite sensibility, must feel when He sees men rising up against their fellow-men; performing gross deeds of cruelty upon every hand, waging wars that cause blood to flow throughout the globe; when, in short, He sees them devastating society by every infernal mischief that their ingenuity can invent.—Beecher.
What shall become of the oppressor? No creature in heaven or earth shall testify his innocency. But the sighs, cries, and groans of undone parents, of beggared widows and orphans, shall witness the contrary. All his money, like hempseed, is sowed with curses; and every obligation is written on earth with ink and blood, and in hell with blood and fire.—Adams, 1653.
The Pleader and the Judge.
iii. 13–15. The Lord standeth up to plead, &c.
I. The Pleader who here presents Himself. Note 1. His majesty. The ancient idea of an advocate was that of a venerable person who would be heard for his own sake, and who would therefore be able to secure for the cause of his clients an attention that would not otherwise be accorded to it. The ideal of a pleader was that of a person noble in birth and blameless in character. To a considerable extent this ideal has been preserved in our English courts of law. A barrister must be a gentleman (at least in this sense, that he has never earned his bread by manual labour), and of good repute as a man of honour. Certain barristers have established such a reputation, not only for ability and learning, but also for character, and are always listened to with respect; happy therefore is the suitor who is able to secure their advocacy. But this Pleader—how august and venerable is He! How infatuated are those who do not stand prepared to listen carefully and respectfully to whatever He may advance! 2. His benevolence. The ancient idea of a pleader was again that of a person who undertook to advocate the cause of another out of a sense of justice and compassion. Advocacy was esteemed too sacred a thing to be purchased with money. In the course of time the practice sprang up of rewarding the exertions of an advocate by an honorarium; but the distinction that still exists between a barrister and an attorney, shows us what the ancient idea of the advocate was. In God this idea is perfectly fulfilled. Without fee or reward, out of pure compassion and justice, He has become “counsel” for the poor and oppressed. Of this fact there is abundant evidence in Scripture, and surely it should kindle within us admiration and love. We justly venerate Howard, Clarkson, Wilberforce—shall we not still more greatly honour God, who stoops to regard them that are of low degree, and becomes the advocate of those who have no other friend? 3. His earnestness. The advocate is supposed to make the cause of his client for the time being his own. Often the supposition is realised in a remarkable degree. But in God it is perfectly realised. The oppressed for whom He pleads He speaks of, not merely as “these people,” but as “my people.” In all their afflictions He is afflicted. However frequently men may forget it, He reminds that He is the Father of all mankind, and the wrongs of His children He feels to be His wrongs; the feebler they are, the less able they are to defend themselves, the more do their wrongs wound Him, and provoke Him to anger—This is the Advocate who stands up to plead for the oppressed. Will the oppressors be so infatuated as to turn a deaf ear to His pleading? Let those who are tempted to do so pause, and consider
II. That He who now pleads before them will be their Judge. An astonishing reversal of circumstances is about to take place: the Advocate is about to ascend the judicial bench, and those before whom He pleads are about to stand at His bar. He has announced beforehand the principles upon which then He will proceed. 1. He will have no regard to rank. He will “enter into judgment with the ancients and princes.” In many countries, great criminals have been able to defy the judge; but none shall be able to defy this Judge.[1] 2. He will pronounce mere indifference to want and suffering a crime (Matt. xxv. 42–45). 3. Those who have inflicted suffering He will judge upon the strict rule of retribution, “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth” (James ii. 13).
By these truths let us be guided in our use of whatever power over others that may have been entrusted to us. Let us hear God proclaiming that the poor are His people, and let us so comport ourselves towards them, that in the end we may come to know the fulness of the meaning of the Master’s declaration, that “blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.”
FOOTNOTES:
[1]
Justice, when equal scales she holds, is blind,
Nor cruelty nor mercy change her mind.
When some escape for that which others die,
Mercy to those, to these is cruelty:
A fine and slender net the spider weaves:
Which little and slight animals receives;
And if she catch a summer bee or fly,
They with a piteous groan and murmur die;
But if a wasp or hornet she entrap,
They tear her cords, like a Sampson, and escape;
So, like a fly, the poor offender dies;
But like the wasp, the rich escapes and flies.—Sir John Denham.
In the corrupted currents of this world,
Offence’s gilded hand may shove by justice,
And oft ’tis seen, the wicked prize itself
Buys out the law. But ’tis not so above:
There is no shuffling, there the action lies
In its nature: and we ourselves compell’d,
Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults,
To give in evidence.—Shakespeare.
Haughtiness.
iii. 16, 17. Moreover the Lord saith, Because the daughters of Zion are haughty, . . . therefore the Lord will smite.
A terrible doom is here denounced against the Jewish women, not because they were vicious, but because they were haughty. Haughtiness is found also in men, though in them its manifestations are somewhat different. It is therefore a question of universal interest. In what respects is haughtiness sinful?
I. The sinfulness of haughtiness is manifest in view of what it is. Webster defines it as “pride mingled with some degree of contempt for others; arrogance.” It is a compound iniquity, and as such is doubly offensive. In the chemical world two deadly ingredients may neutralise each other’s noxious qualities, and form a harmless and useful article: e.g., water, a compound of hydrogen and oxygen; common salt, a compound of chlorine and sodium. But it is never so in the moral world: combinations of iniquities are always especially offensive. How then must God look upon haughtiness, which is made up of two sins most emphatically denounced in His Word!
II. The sinfulness of haughtiness is manifest in view of its sources. Clearly it springs—1. From a forgetfulness of our dependence upon God. Of what is it that we are so proud that we cannot conceal our pride? It is of gifts which we have received from God (1 Cor. iv. 7), and for the continued possession of which we are absolutely dependent on His will. Some are haughty because of what they are—beautiful, talented, &c.; others because of what they have—rank, money, &c.; others because of what they have done—on the field of battle, in art, literature, &c. But personal excellencies, amplitude of possessions, or gross success, should produce in us not self-exaltation, but gratitude to God. To be ungrateful is to be base; and as haughtiness is one of the flowers that spring from ingratitude, that evil root which has for its seed forgetfulness of our dependence upon God, it is base and hateful too. 2. From a forgetfulness of the purposes for which God has so richly endowed us. God endows and helps men, not for their own gratification, but that they may more effectually help others. This great law runs through the whole universe. The sun is filled with light, in order that it may be a light; the violet with perfume, in order that it may diffuse its perfume. So is it with ourselves. In proportion to our gifts we are stewards for God, and were intended to be channels of blessing: great gifts, therefore, should not cause us to swell with foolish arrogance, but should weigh us down with a solemn sense of our responsibility. 3. From a forgetfulness of our relation to our fellow-men. God is our Father, and all men are our brethren, but we forget this, and so we behave ourselves towards many as if they were made of an inferior clay. In a household, the children who have sight look not with scorn, but with compassion, on a sister who is blind; and if we remembered that all men are our brethren, our perception of their shortcomings as compared with ourselves would excite, not our pride, but our pity.
III. The sinfulness of haughtiness is manifest in view of the emphatic discord with the example of Christ. Every sin may be condemned on this ground, yet haughtiness is in an especial manner in flagrant contradiction to that embodiment and manifestation of excellence which we have in the character of our Lord. In His dealings with men, even the lowest and most degraded, who can detect one trace of arrogance? Notice especially, that while He never called attention to His temperance, His truthfulness, His prayerfulness, &c., He did point out meekness as the feature by which He was especially distinguished, and by which His followers were to resemble Him, “Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me for I am meek and lowly in heart.”
1. We may see now why haughtiness, which we are so accustomed to treat as a trivial thing, is so emphatically condemned in God’s Word. 2. A very moderate acquaintance with human life is enough to teach us that haughtiness is a prolific source of sorrow, as well as a sin. It is so in those towards whom it is manifested; slights are resented as insults, and brooded over as bitter wrongs. It is so in those by whom it is manifested: the haughty meet with repeated mortifications, arising from the rejection of their claims to superiority,[1] and they are frequently brought into perilous collision with persons of like temper. An intelligent self-interest would lead us to shun that which God denounces as a sin. 3. While haughtiness may be natural in the children of this world, it is a grave and alarming inconsistency in the professed followers of Jesus.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] A proud man layeth himself open to blows by his presumption, and, like bubbles of soap-water, the bigger he grows the weaker he is, and swells till he bursts.—Dumoulin.
Female Pride and Luxury.
iii. 16—iv. 1. Moreover the Lord saith, Behold the daughters of Zion are haughty, &c.
We have here a terrible denunciation of female pride and luxury. Consider—
I. Its Commonness. In almost every age and country there have been women such as are here described.
II. Its Causes. There must be powerful causes to produce such a wide-spread effect. Like all things that are wrong, these evil things—the pride and luxury of so many women—are due to perversions of things that are right,—mainly, to certain things which are among the differentia of the female sex, such as—1. A keener love of beauty than is common among men. The love of many women for soft textures and bright colours is as innocent, and free from all trace of personal vanity, as is the love of children for flowers. 2. A stronger yearning for admiration than is common among men. There are vain men, always on the outlook for indications of admiration, and they are simply contemptible. But it is an instinct of the true woman-nature to desire to be loved, and to value highly all things that tend to win love. 3. A recognition of the gifts of personal beauty. As a rule, women have more to be proud of in this respect than have men. If a woman is fair, she is simply a hypocrite if she pretends not to know it. Then there come in, 4. Rivalry, which in itself is a right thing, but becomes a harmful thing when women set themselves to out-dress each other. 5. Timidity, one of the graces of the female character, but that often leads to great evils. Few men have the courage to be singular, and fewer women sufficient self-reliance not to follow the fashion. But the pride and luxury of women is largely due also to the folly of men:—(1) Most men esteem and reward clothes more than character. Men are taken by such things as are mentioned in our text, and the fisher is not much to be blamed for adapting the bait to the taste of the fish. (2.) Even of those men who condemn female luxury in the abstract, few have the courage to banish it from their own homes. (3.) The lips of many men are sealed on this question by their own vices. They have their indulgences, and one of the prices which they pay for peace in their pursuit is silence as to this indulgence on the part of their wives and daughters. There is an unexpressed but wicked compromise on this matter.
III. Its Consequences. 1. The intellectual degradation of woman, the concentration of nearly all her thoughts on the question of dress. 2. The moral debasement of many women. For the means of gratifying their craving for luxury and display, how many have sold their virtue! 3. The destruction of that female influence which should always be exerted, and when exerted is so powerful in aid of moral nobility. Sensual grossness in men is at once a cause and consequence of licentious vanity in women. 4. Commercial frauds, to which men resort to provide the means for the maintenance of the luxury of their homes.
Men and women are thus partakers in this sin, and as such, in the days of visitation, they shall suffer together (ver. 17, 25; iv. 1).[1]
FOOTNOTES:
[1] vi. 1. The Jewess, like the ancient Roman, or modern Englishwoman, was called by her husband’s name; and she prized the honour of wedlock, and dreaded the reproach of childlessness, at least as much as either of these; but we must contrast the dignified expression of these feelings by Sarah, Hannah, and Elizabeth, nay, even that of the jealous and petulant Rachel, with the exhibition which the prophet now contemplates in his mind’s eye, in order to see the picture of social disorganisation which he sees. If a harem of wives and concubines was still a part of the king’s state in Isaiah’s time, though we have no proof of this, it is quite improbable that polygamy was the common custom of the nation, or that they had not long passed out of the half-civilised condition and habits for which Moses had provided in the laws for the protection of the female slaves whom a man might take at the same time for his wives; but now Isaiah says that these women, whose luxury and pride he has just described, will abandon even the natural reserve of their sex, and not only force themselves several upon one man, but declare that they will be content to share with each other a legalised concubinage in which they will not claim the concubine’s ancient right of bread and apparel, which the old law (Exod. xxi. 10) had in express terms secured to her, if only they may bear his name. It need not be supposed that Isaiah anticipated the literal fulfilment of his words; we shall probably understand him better by taking this as an instance of that poetic or rhetorical hyperbole, which he so delights to use for the more forcible expression of his moral and political teaching. The mystery which some commentators have seen in the numbers “seven” and “one” in this passage, and which is even said to have occasioned the separation of this portion of the prophecy into a distinct chapter, perhaps makes worth while the obvious remark that it is nothing more than the wide-spread idiom of modern as well as ancient languages, by which a definite or round number is put for an indefinite. Seven is thus generally used by the Hebrews for any considerable number, as it was among the Egyptians and Persians, and is still said to be in the East. The Moguls are said to employ nine in like manner. So, in English, we put five or ten for any small, and a hundred for a large number, in conversation; though the genius of our language forbids such idioms in graver discourse.—Strachey, pp. 55, 56.
The Desolated and Disorganising Power of War.
iv. 1. And in that day seven women shall take hold of one man, saying, We will eat our own bread and wear our own apparel, only let us be called by thy name to take away our reproach.[1]
This verse gives us a vivid picture of the desolating and disorganising power of war. The 25th and 26th verses of the previous chapter say “Thy men shall fall by the sword, and thy mighty in the war. And her gates shall lament and mourn, and she being desolate shall sit on the ground.” This righteous chastisement has come. So often have the men been called into the field, so exterminating has been the carnage, as that now few men remain. The natural proportion of the sexes is disturbed. This disorganisation invades woman’s nature. Her natural modesty departs. With violent importunity seven women press marriage on one man. They will be no expense to him; they will earn their own food and raiment, if he will only give them his name in marriage. The writer of this outline has recently travelled in a land [Mexico] whose revolutions during the last fifty years have been so frequent as that he found parts of the country where the prophet’s words are true to-day. The men have been killed in battle. In some districts there are seven women to one man.
I. The tendency of sin is to produce war and to degrade women. The apostle James has described the generals of war (iv. 1). Nations are but the aggregate of individuals. If the lusts of selfishness, greed, malice, &c., nestle like vipers in the hearts of individual men, they will be manifest in the nation. 1. Sin deteriorates man’s intellectual faculties. In its present unpurified condition, the human intellect is not inventive enough to discover those commercial relationships which will eventually bind in bonds of amity the nations of the world together. 2. Sin intensifies human selfishness. One of the most desolating wars of modern times originated in that gross selfishness which was too blind to see that it was a sin to hold property in man. 3. Sin intensifies human greed. “Cursed be he that removeth his neighbour’s landmark,” is a despised threat. Again and again his war originated in greed of territory and lust of plunder. 4. Sin intensifies human ambition. In the heart of all great conquerors, from Nimrod to Napoleon, has lain the lust of unholy ambition. Their motto has ever been “Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven.” 5. Side by side with these lusts of selfishness, greed, ambition, &c., there has been a lack of justice and mercy. No mind having these latter sentiments healthily developed could “cry havock and let slip the dogs of war.” When the leaders of nations learn “to do justly and love mercy,” wars will be less common. 6. With war have come numerous evils to woman. The text describes some of them. Others come to the surface every day. Her husband has been forced from her side, or her sons have died on the battlefield; very bitter have been woman’s sorrows,—“Yea, a sword hath pierced through her own soul also.” And always where soldiers are multiplied in a land, and taken away from useful employment, women have been polluted and degraded. War and womanly degradation are inseparable evils.
II. It is the tendency of Christianity to produce peace and elevate women. 1. To produce peace in its loftiest and widest sense Christ came into the world. The prophet Isaiah predicted Him as the Prince of Peace (ix. 6). At His birth angels sang, “Peace on earth, good-will to man” (Luke ii. 14). 2. By His atoning work He has laid the foundation of peace between man and God, and consequently between man and man. 3. The direct influence of Christ’s religion is to restrain and destroy those evil propensities out of which wars originate—lust of greed, ambition, malice, &c. What is in the individual comes out in the community. As individuals and nations become truly Christian and form the majority, wars will cease. 4. Prophecy speaks of a time coming when the principles of Christianity shall be in the ascendant, and then men shall beat their swords into ploughshares, &c., &c. (chap. ii. 4). 5. As the gospel of peace advances in a land woman’s condition is always elevated. The Christian man honours woman as no other man does. As he grows into the stature of Christ, woman’s lot is always happier. Compare woman’s status in pagan, Mohammedan, and barbarous lands, with her status in Christendom.
III. Hence while the Gospel claims as its advocate every Christian man, it has special claims on the service of every pious woman.—Every good man is called upon to spread the blessings of Christianity as widely as possible. But there are some evils whose removal appeals specially to pious women. Every good woman should throw her influence into the aggregate of the peace spirit, as against that war spirit which in certain stages of civilisation seems so natural to man. All women should join together to make up an army of peace promoters, outnumbering the men of the sword. To relieve their sisters from sorrow and save them from degradation, should be the aim of all good women.—William Parkes.
FOOTNOTES:
The Divine Ideal of Israel Realised.
iv. 2–6. In that day shall the Branch of the Lord, &c.
“That day” is the glorious period described in ch. ii. 1–4, and those verses and our text should be read together, as the beginning and conclusion of one prophecy. At the beginning, the prophet fixes his gaze upon the sun-illumined peaks of holiness and blessing in the far future, and his spirit rises within him in exultant gladness (ii. 5); and then he begins to survey the spaces of time that lie between. Immediately at his feet he sees almost the whole nation given over to utter ungodliness, the men and the women vying with each other in their pride and luxuriousness, and in their contempt and oppression of the poor; and then he beholds the clouds of Divine vengeance gathering and bursting over the stout-hearted sinners; he sees the nation spoiled of the men who had constituted its strength, and the enfeebled people utterly desolated by war. All is blackness and darkness. But he lifts his eyes again, and there still shines before him the true Zion, dwelling in inviolable peace beneath the manifestations of the presence of her God. This was the vision which was granted him, and which he recorded for the instruction of men in all aftertime.
Confining our attention to the closing section of it, we are instructed—I. That underneath all God’s purposes of judgment He has designs of mercy. In certain portions of this great prophecy God comes forth in terrible majesty, and were we to have regard to them only we should be moved to pray that He would not speak to us any more (Exod. xx. 19). But these judgments that cause us to tremble—what is their purpose? Not merely the infliction of righteous vengeance, but also and more that a way may be opened for manifestations of the Divine goodness. If into Zion He sends “the spirit of judgment and burning,” it is that by the purging away of her filth and blood-guiltiness she may be made meet to be the dwelling-place of God. II. That God resolved to carry out His purposes of mercy by a suitable agent. He is here designated by a twofold description, the parts of which appear to be contradictory. He is at once “the Branch of the Lord” and “the Fruit of the earth.” The significance of the first of these titles becomes more plain as we trace it in prophecy (Jer. xxiii. 5, xxxiii. 15; Zech. iii. 8, vi. 12). So that “the Branch of the Lord” is a man, the son of David, that son concerning whom he sang in the seventy-second Psalm, the Messiah—our Lord Jesus Christ! As soon as we arrive at this great truth, we perceive what is the explanation of the mysterious contradiction in the two parts of the title of the great Deliverer whom God was about to raise up for Zion (1 Tim. iii. 16; Rom. i. 3, 4). III. That in the day when God’s designs of mercy are fulfilled, the suitability and glory of the Agent whom God resolved to employ will be universally recognised. We know how He was treated when He came forth on His great mission: He was despised and rejected of men. Yet not long after He had been put to the most ignominious of deaths, an apostle could write, “Unto you that believe He is precious.” So even on earth there was a commencement of the fulfilment of the prediction that He should be “beautiful and glorious . . . excellent and comely for them that are escaped of Israel.” We have been permitted also to see how He is regarded by the ransomed ones who have entered into the rest in which they await the manifestation of the sons of God (Rev. v. 6–14). By this disclosure we are enabled to form some conception of the manner in which this portion of the prophecy will be fulfilled “in that day” which upon the new earth “the holy city, New Jerusalem,” has come down from God out of heaven. IV. That God’s great design both in the infliction of His judgments and the operation of His mercy is the creation of universal holiness. The work entrusted to the Messiah was to “wash away the filth of the daughters of Zion, and to purge the blood-guiltiness of Jerusalem from the midst thereof.” There were some “written down for life in Jerusalem” (Acts xiii. 48),—doubtless those who God foresaw would tremble at His threatenings and accept His gracious offers of mercy; and these the Messiah was so to purify that they should be worthy to “be called holy.” Thus one part of God’s ideal concerning Israel (Exod. xix. 6) was to be realised. It was for the accomplishment of this great purpose that Christ died (Eph. v. 25–27). It was for this end that He was exalted to God’s right hand (Acts v. 31). It is for the accomplishment of this great purpose that He now sometimes subjects His people to painful discipline (Heb. xii. 10).[1] V. That the day of universal holiness will be a day of universal blessing. This great truth is set forth by symbols which would appeal most powerfully to the imagination and the hopes of the godly among Isaiah’s contemporaries (ver. 5, 6). That which had been the distinguishing glory of the Tabernacle was to become the common glory of every dwelling in the New Jerusalem. Moreover, the whole city was to be a covering—a canopy such as in a Jewish wedding was held over the bride and bridegroom; the symbol of God’s protecting love. Beneath it, as in a tabernacle, they should dwell securely. Thus the second portion of God’s ideal concerning Israel was to be realised (Deut. xxviii. 9, 10; xxxiii. 28). First purity, then peace; perfect purity, perfect peace. A little later Isaiah had another vision concerning this tabernacle (xxxii. 2). God’s protecting love for His people is embodied in our Lord Jesus Christ; “in Him all the promises of God are Yea and Amen” (2 Cor. i. 20).
FOOTNOTES:
[1] As God makes use of all the seasons of the year for the harvest, the frost of winter as well as the heat of summer, so doth He of fair and foul, pleasing and unpleasing providences for promoting holiness. Winter providences kill the weeds of lusts, and summer providences ripen and mellow the fruits of righteousness. When He afflicts it is for our profit, to make us partakers of His holiness (Heb. xii. 10). Bernard compares afflictions to the teasel, which though it be sharp and scratching, is to make the cloth more pure and fine. God would not rub so hard if it were not to fetch out the dirt that is ingrained in our natures. God loves purity so well that He would rather see a hole than a spot in His child’s garments. When He deals more gently in His providences, and lets His people sit under the sunny bank of comforts and enjoyments, fencing them from the cold blasts of affliction, it is to draw forth the sap of grace, and hasten their growth in holiness.—Gurnall, 1617–1679.
God’s Perpetual Presence with His People.
iv. 2–5. In that day shall the Branch of the Lord, &c.
Note the contrast between the preceding chapter, in which denunciations fall upon the ear like thunder, and the sunny promise of this. The references to Zion both in the Psalms and in the Prophecies are frequent and striking. Originally crowned by the Jebusite citadel, it was besieged and taken by David, who transferred his court from Hebron thither; he afterwards erected a tabernacle upon its height, and it there became the chosen resting-place of the ark of the Lord. Hence, in Scripture language, it came sometimes to denote the entire city of Jerusalem, and sometimes the Church or commonwealth of the faithful, which the Highest has promised to establish, and out of which God, the perfection of beauty, shines. You will have no difficulty in thus understanding the reference in the words before us. Applied to the ancient Zion, or even to the entire city of Jerusalem, the words are extravagant and unmeaning; applied to the Church of God—His living, spiritual temple—they are sober, comforting truths. Consider
I. The Preparation for the Promise—(2–4). Two things are presented as antecedent to the gifts of blessing—the coming of the Divine Saviour, and His discipline for holiness within His Church. 1. The coming of the Divine Saviour (ver. 2). The transition from the gloomy judgment to the grandeur of deliverance is abrupt and striking, as if from a savage wilderness one were to emerge suddenly into green pastures and among gay flowers. So great a change passes upon human destinies when Christ the Lord comes down. We are naturally heirs of judgment. But a Saviour has been provided—a Saviour who, in the mysterious union of natures, combines perfection of sympathy and almightiness of power. Without Christ, we are hopeless and lost. Give us Christ, and we are heirs to all the fulness of God. 2. The Saviour’s discipline for holiness within His Church (ver. 3, 4). With God the great thing is holiness. To work this holiness in His people, God subjects them to discipline, and, if necessary, to the spirit of judgment and the spirit of burning. There are some stains so deep that the fire must purge them. The constant superintendence over human affairs which these words imply is assured to us by the experience of our own witnessing hearts, which corroborate the declarations of the inspired Word. In this superintendence the Christian will rejoice. In his anxiety to be conformed to the whole image of God, he will not be careful or delicate about the means God may use. Here is a test by which to try yourselves. Are you willing to submit to this preparation for the promise? Do not shrink from the hissing brand; it will only burn away the core of the ulcer.
II. The Promise Itself (ver. 5). As we read these words, we go back to former ages and a fierce wilderness, where a pilgrim host marches, and there, now in their van for guidance, now in their rear for protection, races a pillar of cloud by day, and by night a pillar of flame. This was the vision prominent in the prophet’s mind, when he symbolised by it God’s presence and protection to His chosen Church. We are the heirs of the glorious things thus spoken of the city of God. There is the presence of God with His Church—that is the central thought; then there are right-hand and left-hand thoughts or aspects in which that presence manifests itself, radiating itself on the one hand for counsel, and on the other hand for defence. 1. The central thought, The presence of God. It was in cloud and in fire that God specially revealed Himself for His people in days of old (Gen. xv. 17; Exod. xix. 18; xxxiii. 9; 1 Kings viii. 10; Hab. iii. 3–5). So long as the cloud and fire were in the camp, so long the wilderness lost half its terror, because the Israelites knew that God was in the midst of them for good. That God is still present in His church is no impious fanatic’s dream. To be sure He does not come as He did in former times, bewildering the sight and overawing the mind. The Divine manifestations of terror which made even Moses fear and quake, would not suit this later and better dispensation of love. Yet our tabernacles are not merely places of human assembly; they are tabernacles of God’s presence, and our worship ascends not to a remote or absent God. 2. The right-hand thought, The presence of God for counsel. You remember that this was the primary purpose for which the pillar of cloud and fire was given. Consider how much it was needed by the Israelites in the trackless wilderness. (1.) For guidance in their perplexities, God’s presence is promised to the churches of to-day. Nobody can look upon the history of the Church with eyes that are not blinded by infidel films without discovering traces of a presence and counsel higher than that of the mightiest and wisest men. What chance had she at the beginning but in the support and upholding that was itself Divine! Through what perils she has been safely guided since! (2.) If I were to come nearer home, if I were to ask you to not look at the history of the Church, but at your own history, is there not something that would cause you to respond with a joy not less deep and solemn, as you think how the Lord through all your wanderings has been a guide and counsel for you? 3. The left-hand thought, The presence of God for defence. You know what the pillar of fire was—to the Israelites a lamp, brilliant, exquisite, and heartening; to the Egyptians that followed, a consuming fire. There is defence as well as counsel for the Church to-day. Expositors have differed a little about the reading of the last clause in this verse. Some tell us it ought to read, “upon all the glory shall be a defence;” that is, there shall be protection round about the glory which is created by this luminous cloud and by this kindled fire. Some tell us it should be read, “upon all the glory shall be a defence;” that is, the luminous cloud and the brilliant fire shall be itself the defence of the Church. What does it matter which way we take it? The defence is sure, the salvation of the Lord is for bulwarks equally in the one case as in the other; and so the Church is safe, whatever betide. Powerful adversaries have banded themselves for her destruction, and yet she still lives, while their names are forgotten, or remembered with accusation and shame. Let us, then, not be afraid of future assaults (Num. xxiii. 23). The defence is not merely for Zion as a whole, but for every dwelling-place therein. Every believer has a pillar of cloud and fire over his own homestead, visible not to your eyes, but to those of the angels. There cannot be a cloud upon “the assembly” unless there are first clouds upon the dwelling-places. Consecrated homes furnish consecrated congregations; consecrated homes bring the baptism of fire. Dear brethren, this promise is yours, if you like to have it. It is the simple, quiet soul that sits at the feet of Jesus and listens to His voice, that has all this done for him (Heb. i. 14).
“Which of the petty kings of earth
Can boast a guard like ours,
Encircled from our second birth
With all the heavenly powers?”
—W. Morley Punshon, LL.D., Christian World Pulpit, ii. 372–377.
The Cleansing Spirit.
iv. 4. By the Spirit of judgment, and by the Spirit of burning.
In ch. ii. 1–5, the prophet gives us a vision of the glory which shall distinguish Messianic times. From ver. 6, however, and through that chapter and the next, he depicts scenes of darkness and distress, that were to come upon the Jewish nation in correction of its haughtiness, arrogance, and rebellion. In ch. iv. the light again breaks through these fearful clouds of judgment, and under the glory of the Messianic period we see the beauty and purity of the chastened people of the Lord. The filth of the daughters of Zion has been washed away, the blood of Jerusalem has been purged from the midst thereof. But how? “By the Spirit of judgment, and by the Spirit of burning.” Here we have the source and cause of the change.—This language is very striking and suggestive, and reveals the Divine procedure in the cleansing of the heart.
I. The Spirit of Judgment. God’s Spirit effects this reformation by a process of discernment and conviction. We observe—1. That a real change of heart is usually preceded by a discovery of its sinful condition. The natural tendency of the depraved heart is to ignore and deny its corrupted state. The light must be let in to show that it is depraved.[1] 2. That this reformation is preceded by a discovery of the enormity as well as the fact of sin. Even a converted sinner tries to palliate or soften the sins that condemn him. Hence men contrive such flimsy distinctions as “white lies” and “black lies.” But “the Spirit of judgment” goes to the root of the matter, and discovers sin as sin (1 Kings viii. 28). So in the text, it is the filth of the daughters of Zion that has to be washed away; it is the blood of Jerusalem that has had to be purged from its midst.[2]
II. The Spirit of Burning. From this description of the Holy Ghost, we learn—1. That the detection of sin is, in the Divine purpose, to be followed by its destruction. There can be no home for sin in a pure heart, nor will God make any concession to it (Hab. i. 13; Ps. v. 5). 2. This process is extremely searching and painful. It is one of “burning” (Matt. iii. 11). How many have quailed under the testing ordeal!—e.g., loss of wealth! loss of friends! personal affliction, &c.
From the subject three general reflections arise:—1. God does not chastise arbitrarily or at random. He does it by “the Spirit of judgment.” 2. Neither does He fail in the work by reason of a weak indulgence, which really would be unkindness. He does it by “the Spirit of burning.” 3. The object He has in view is to promote and secure our personal holiness, to make us indeed like Himself (Heb. xii. 10)—the most blessed result to which discipline can lead us.—W. Manning.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] It is with the children of men as with the housewife, that having diligently swept the house, and cast the dust out of doors, can see nothing amiss, not so much as a speck of dust in it; whereas if the sun do but a little shine in, through some cranny in the wall or some broken quarry in the window, she may soon see the whole house swim and swarm with innumerable atoms of dust, floating to and fro in the air, which, for dimness of light or sight, she was not able to discern. Even so is it with many that were careful of their ways, so that little may be seen that is amiss; yet, when they shall come to look more attentively into God’s law, a little beam of light, reflecting upon their souls for it, will discover unto them such an innumerable company, as well as corruptions in their heart as of error and oversight in their lives, that it shall make them, as men amazed, cry out, “Lord, what earthly man doth know the errors of his life?”—Spencer, 1658.
[2] As the Lord led Ezekiel from one place to another, and the further he went the greater abominations he discerned (Ezek. viii.), from the door of the court to the door of the gate of the Lord’s house, and from thence to the inner court; so the Spirit of the Lord leads the sinner from one part of his house to another, from one room—one faculty of his soul to another, and still discovers greater, more and more abominations,—leads from the profaneness of his ordinary conversation to the sins of his religious duties, from the sins of his life to the sins of his heart, from the streams of sin in his actions to the spring of sin which bubbles up continually in every part of his soul. He brings to mind the sins that he has forgotten, makes him “possess the sins of his youth;” and now the “bag” (Job. xiv. 17) is opened, and the sinner sees what he is to reckon for, he cries out as the prophet’s servant, “How shall we do?” and as David (Ps. xxxviii. 4). He comes not to the assizes as formerly, to see others tried and condemned; he sees himself now at the bar, himself arraigned and indicted; he cannot but plead guilty. He is clearly cast in law, and bears the sentence of condemnation as though the Lord did by name pronounce sentence of condemnation against him.—Clarkson, 1621–1686.
The Parable of the Vineyard.
v. 1–7. Now will I sing, &c.
I. The privileges conferred on the Jewish nation (ver. 2, 3). It would be vain and useless to attempt, as some have done, to find in the privileges of the Jews an exact counterpart to the various items here specified concerning this “vineyard.” For example, Jerome regards the fencing of the vineyard as symbolical of the protection of the Jews by the angels; the gathering out of the stones, the removal of the idols; the tower, the temple erected in Jerusalem; the wine-press, the altar.[1] To seek thus for minute analogies is at once to destroy the oratorical force and the simplicity of the parable. Rather let us lay hold of its leading truths. The prophet desired to remind the Jews that they had received extraordinary privileges from God; consequently he employed figures calculated to impress his hearers with that truth; and he does not fail to specify every particular which those acquainted with a vineyard would expect, if it were one from which a copious supply of choice fruit might be reasonably expected. 1. The choice which God made of the Jews as a nation was the first and fundamental privilege which He conferred upon them. 2. Having chosen them, God revealed Himself to them as clearly as was then possible through the symbolism of the Mosaic Law. Through its statutes and ceremonies were shadowed forth the great truths of His holiness, His mercy, His sanctifying grace, and the Sacrifice which in the fulness of time was to be offered for the sin of the world (Rom. iii. 1, 2). 3. In addition to the Law, God gave to His people the inestimable help of Prophetical Teaching, to assist them to understand its meaning, and to stimulate them to keep it with full purpose of heart.
II. The consequent obligations under which the Jews were laid. From the vineyard, for which the great Husbandman has done so much, He naturally looked for fruit. The fruits which the prophet specifies as being required by God from the Jews correspond precisely with their privileges (ver. 7). He had given them a code of laws by which their actions were to be guided, and had impressed upon them the duty of doing to others as they would be done to. Now He looked for the fruits of justice and righteousness. It was a reasonable demand, the lowest that could have been made. Yet even this demand was not met.
III. The judgment which God designed to bring upon them (ver. 6, 7). As we objected to the attempt to find exact counterparts between the various privileges of the Jews and the labours which had been bestowed upon the vineyard, so we set aside as needless all attempts to discover parallels between the various items of the threatening against the vineyard and the judgments by which the Jews were visited. All that the prophet means to say is this, that the privileges which the Jews enjoyed pre-eminently above all the other nations God would take from them, and they should be reduced to the level of their neighbours. The removal of these privileges was itself the heaviest judgment that could have befallen them.
Practical Lesson.—Where there is privilege there is obligation. 1. You who are Christians are responsible for your privileges. Consider how great they are: a knowledge of the will of God; the example of Christ; a throne of grace ever accessible; the counsel and help of the Holy Spirit. If God looked for the fruits of justice and righteousness from the Jews, what manner of fruit may He reasonably expect from you? 2. Even those of you who are not Christians, but are still living in sin, have privileges; a preached Gospel; the offer of a free, full, and present salvation; the strivings with you of the Holy Ghost. Despise them not, or you will perish.—Thomas Neave.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] “The house of Israel” (beth Yisrâel) was the whole nation, which is also represented in other passages under the same figure of a vineyard (ch. xxvii. 2, sqq.; Ps. lxxx., &c). But as Isaiah was prophet in Judah, he applies the figure more particularly to Judah, which was called Jehovah’s favourite plantation, inasmuch as it was the seat of the Divine sanctuary and of the Davidic kingdom. This makes it easy enough to interpret the different parts of the simile employed. The fat mountain horn was Canaan, flowing with milk and honey (Exod. xv. 17); the digging of the vineyard, and clearing it of stones, was the clearing of Canaan from its former heathen inhabitants (Ps. xliv. 3); the sorek-vines were the holy priests and prophets and kings of Israel of the earlier and better times (Jer. ii. 21); the defensive and ornamental tower in the midst of the vineyard was Jerusalem as the royal city, with Zion the royal fortress (Micah iv. 8); the winepress-trough was the temple, where, according to Ps. xxxvi. 8, the wine of heavenly pleasures flowed in streams, and from which, according to Ps. xlii. and many other passages, the thirst of the soul might all be quenched. The grazing and treading down are explained in Jer. v. 10 and xii. 10.—Delitsch.
I believe that in a poetical allegory there is always more or less an allusion to the details of that which is allegorised; but it is only allusion,—to be realised by the imagination, rather than by the understanding, of the reader, as well as the poet. The several images are parts of a picture, which must be contemplated as a picture, and its meaning is to enter into the mind through the imagination. Still, a matter-of-fact commentator, like Vitrings, deeply imbued with the spirit of his author, will sometimes greatly help his reader’s imagination by his minute analysis; and I think this is the case in his explanation of the details of this description of the vineyard. “A vineyard” consists of vines planted for the sake of their fruit: the Hebrew nation with its tribes, its families, and its persons, was such a vineyard, appointed to bring forth the fruits of personal and social religion and virtue,—holiness, righteousness, and love to God and man: this nation was established in a land flowing with milk and honey, endowed with all natural advantages, all circumstances which could favour inward life by outward prosperity; and the grace and favour of Jehovah, and the influence of His Spirit, always symbolised by oil, were continually causing it to be fruitful. “And He fenced it,”—the arm of the Lord of hosts, employing kings and heroes, was its defence against all enemies; its institutions were fitted to preserve internal order, and to prevent the admixture of evil from without, with the chosen and separated nation; and its territory was marked out and protected by natural boundaries in a noticeable manner. “Gathered out the stones,”—the heathen nations, and the stocks and stones they worshipped. “And planted it with the choicest vine,”—a nation of the noble stock of the patriarchs, and chosen and cultivated by the Lord of the vineyard, with especial care, for His own use. “And built a tower in it,”—namely, Jerusalem—for the protection and superintendence of the vineyard, as well as to be its farmhouse, so to speak. “And also made a wine-press therein,”—where the wine-press seems to point to the same idea as the sending the servants to receive the fruit, in our Lord’s modification of this parable: lawgivers, kings, and judges, the temple with its priesthood and ordinances, and the schools of the prophets, were the appointed means for pressing out and receiving the wine—the spiritual virtues and graces of the vineyard. And the end is, that “He looked that it should bring forth grapes, and it brought forth wild grapes.”—Strachy, pp. 62, 63.
The Parable of the Vineyard.
v. 1–7. Now will I sing to my well-beloved a song, &c.
The points of moral instruction made prominent in this parable are—I. That God’s gifts of truth, light as to duty, moral culture, and opportunities for doing good, create peculiar obligations to be morally fruitful, to do justice, and love mercy. II. That men so blessed with privileges will be held to a stern accountability. III. That failing to meet this, they must expect that God will take away their privileges and give them to others who will render the fruits in their season (Matt. xxi. 43). IV. That there is a line beyond which God does not deem it wise to waste His moral efforts upon self-hardened sinners. V. That in His view the exigencies of His moral kingdom demand of Him rather that He made sinners, beyond that line, an example of His righteous displeasure against their awful wickedness, and a warning to other sinners lest they venture too far in abusing His compassionate and long-suffering efforts to reclaim and save them. It is a terrible thing to withstand God in His labours to save the soul.—Henry Cowles, D.D., Commentary on Isaiah, p. 30.
Great Privileges.
v. 1–7. Now will I sing to my well-beloved, &c.
I. Great privileges are bestowed by God according to the good pleasure of His will. 1. Obviously this is true of the great privileges accorded to the Jewish nation. They were not granted because of anything in them (Deut. vii. 7; ix. 4–6, &c.). There were other “hills” that would have been just as suitable for a vineyard, and just as fruitful, had the great Husbandman been pleased to deal with them in the same manner. 2. If we consider our own religious privileges, we must acknowledge the same great principle: other nations still heathen deserve them just as much as we do; and our heathen forefathers to whom they were first granted were in no sense superior to the heathen of to-day. We owe our superiority to our privileges, not our privileges to our superiority. 3. The same principle is as true of temporal as of spiritual privileges. Why are some born clever, and others stupid? some strong and others weak? some rich, and others poor? We can return no other answer than that such is the will of God.—This principle seems to be surrounded by a cloud of mystery; but there are rays of light that relieve it,—to some of them we shall presently refer; and we must be careful not to darken it by our own folly. We must not imagine, because God acts according to the good pleasure of His will, that therefore He acts arbitrarily, capriciously, out of mere whim and fancy. Though He may not disclose to us the reasons for many of His procedures, we may be sure that He has good reasons. In withholding them from us—possibly because we are as yet incapable of understanding them,—and thus making demands upon our faith, He deals with us just as we frequently deal with our children.
II. Great privileges involve great responsibilities. From the vineyard so carefully cultivated choice grapes are justly expected. This is a truth so familiar that it is apt to become to us a mere truism. But we shall do well to look at it steadily,—1. As a guide to us in our duty. It is well to pause and consider what privileges God has conferred upon is, that we may be aroused to a perception of the nature and extent of the demands which He is certain to make upon us. In view of our privileges, what ought our life to be? (Luke xii. 48). 2. As a help to us in our perplexities. In view of such providential arrangements as have been referred to, these are sometimes very painful. But we must remember that the great principle before us admits of being very variously stated. It is just as true that “small privileges involve small responsibilities.” We shall adopt the slander of the wicked and slothful servant if we think of God as a hard master who seeks to reap where He has not sown. If God has entrusted to any man only one talent,—and He entrusts to every man at least as much as that,—He will not demand from him the usury upon ten talents, nor upon two.
III. Great privileges do not necessarily result in great happiness. They ought to do so; they often do so; but as frequently they fail to do so. Even in temporal things, the happiest men are not always those whose possessions are most various and ample. The most learned men are not always those who own the largest libraries. And the holiest men are not always those whose religious opportunities are most numerous and great. Why is it, that great privileges and great happiness are not always associated? Because man is a voluntary agent, and God will not force happiness upon any man. He may offer us eternal life, but we must “lay hold” of it. He may shed upon our path great light, but we must walk in it (ch. ii. 5).
Practical Lesson.—Instead of repining because our privileges are not more numerous and great, let us diligently use those which have been granted to us, and so make them what they were intended to be—sources of blessing to us. Enclosed within God’s vineyard, and carefully cultured by Him, let us see to it that the grapes we bring forth are not wild grapes.
IV. Great privileges neglected or misused bring on great condemnations (ver. 5, 6). Compare also Luke xiii. 6–9. Had that fig-tree been growing on some open common, notwithstanding its barrenness, it might have stood till it decayed, but because it was barren in a “vineyard” the righteous order is given, “Cut it down!” This principle, also, we may turn to practical account. Like a former one, we may use it—1. To help us in our perplexities. Sometimes we are in trouble to know what will become of the heathen in the day of judgment. Well, even if they are condemned, they will be condemned less severely than those who have misused greater privileges (Matt. xi. 22; Luke xii. 48). 2. To stimulate us to a faithful discharge of duty. Fear is not the highest motive, but it is a very useful one, and not truly wise man will leave it out of account. We need every kind of help to fortify us against temptation, and it is good to remember what will be the result if we yield to it, and so remain barren and unfruitful, or even bring forth “wild grapes” (Heb. iv. 1; 1 Pet. i. 7; Phil. ii. 12).
Fear is useful as a motive, but hope is still more helpful; and in the matter of our salvation we may employ both fear and hope as allies. Reverse the last principle, and read it thus, Great privileges well used secure corresponding rewards. Compare Luke xix. 17. If the choice vine planted in the fruitful vineyard brings forth “good grapes,” the Husbandman will pronounce over it rejoicing benedictions (Heb. vi. 7).
Divine Disappointments.
v. 2. He looked that it should bring forth grapes, and it brought forth wild grapes.
“I believe in God.” Which god? The god constructed for us by philosophers, who is impassive, throned in eternal calm, unmoved by the crimes or the virtues of men, all of which he has foreseen from eternal ages, and which cannot in any way affect him at the time of their occurrence; a god who towers above men, majestic and unchangeable, like an Alpine peak, which is the same whether sunlight cheers or clouds darken the valleys beneath? No, but the God of the Bible, who loves and hates, who rejoices with us in our gladness and sorrows with us in our griefs, who foresees and overrules all, and yet can hope and be disappointed.
I. That God can be disappointed is distinctly the implication of our text. “He looked that it,” &c. 1. Isaiah’s parable recalls the privileges which God had conferred upon the Jews; and we know that He dealt with them as He did, in order that they might become a holy nation (Exod. xix. 6; Deut. vii. 6, xxvi. 18, 19). Was their persistent unholiness no disappointment to Him? 2. The same truth is implied in what we are told of God’s feelings in view of the wickedness of the antediluvians (Gen. vi. 5, 6). He had made man in His own image, in order that He might continue therein, and shine with the lustre of His own moral perfections; each man was to be a planet in the moral universe, reflecting the glory of the great central Sun; and when He saw man transformed into the image of Satan, and His purposes concerning him frustrated, He was filled with profound regret. 3. The same truth is implied in what we are told concerning Christ. “He came unto His own” (John i. 11). For what purpose? Certainly not that He might be rejected, but that He might be received by them. But He was rejected! See how forcibly this is brought out in His parable (Luke xx. 9–15—especially verse 13). 4. It is implied in Christ’s tears and lament over Jerusalem (Luke xix. 41; Matt xxiii. 37). 5. It is implied in the apostolic declarations, that God is desirous that all men should repent and be saved (1 Tim. ii. 4; 2 Pet. iii. 9). We must not minimise the force of θέλει—ὂς πάντας άνθρώπους θέλει σωθῆναι. The strength of any one’s desire is to be measured by what he will do or sacrifice to accomplish it; and God gave His only begotten Son in order that all men might have everlasting life. But all men are not saved. That the Scriptures teach that God can be—and often is—disappointed, is clear.
II. “But it is impossible that God can be disappointed, seeing that He is omniscient and foresees all things. Surprise, and consequently disappointment, is not possible to perfect knowledge.” 1. This objection appears to be very reasonable, but against it there is this fatal objection, that we cannot measure God by our reason.[1] We cannot tell how He will act or feel under certain circumstances: all we know is, that under all circumstances God will act and feel in a manner worthy of Himself. But what is, or is not, consistent with His attributes, we are not in a position to determine. Take, for instance, His omnipresence. If we were present when dastardly wrongs and great crimes are committed, and were clothed with power to prevent them, how certain it is that we should prevent them![2] But every day He stands by and sees such wickednesses perpetrated, and is silent, and gives no sign. Let us, then, not be in a hurry to decide that disappointment is not consistent with omniscience. 2. There is an experience very frequent among men, which may perhaps help us a little to understand what disappointment is in God. Evils may be long distinctly foreseen—as, for example, the death of a dear friend suffering from an incurable disease—but yet not realised until they actually occur. The blow is foreseen long before it falls, but it is felt when it falls. Every man knows that he must die, and yet how nearly a surprise is death to every man! 3. Whether we can understand it or not, it is our duty to accept this declaration, that in view of the ingratitude and sinfulness of men whom God has blessed and has sought to win by virtue and holiness, He is profoundly grieved and disappointed. Such declarations are not to be dismissed as “anthropomorphological.” However much that is in them may be figurative, there is a reality behind the figures.
III. Whatever mystery may attach to this declaration, consider how precious it is—1. A God who can be disappointed is precisely the God we need. How else could we be assured of His sympathy with us in the disappointments which so frequently come upon us, and which make up so considerable a part of the experiences of our life? Were God such a being as the philosophers have imagined, we might feel that He understood us, as an anatomist understands exactly how a frog on which he is operating will act when exposed to galvanic shocks, but we could not have had the inexpressible consolation of the assurance of His sympathy. It is only a mother who has been bereaved who can comfort a mother who is weeping over her dead child. 2. A God who is so much interested in us that our failures in virtue inspire Him with profound grief and disappointment, is against precisely the God we need. Of what value to us would be a God who looked upon us with as little emotion as a king may be supposed to do upon the ants who crawl across his path? It is because men do not think of God as He is revealed in our text, that they sin against Him; if they did but realise how He feels about them, it would be impossible for them to transgress as they do. I accept His declaration, that He is disappointed in view of human sin, and I try to measure His disappointment. I find help in this endeavour in this Old Testament parable: how profound would be the disappointment of a husbandman under such circumstances as are supposed! But I find yet more valuable help in the greatest of the New Testament parables. How bitter must have been the disappointment of the father of the Prodigal when he went away into a far country! Such disappointments break the hearts of tens of thousands of fathers and mothers, and brings down their grey hairs with sorrow to the grave; and precisely such disappointment it is, only vaster, deeper, sadder, that fills the heart of our Heavenly Father when His children go astray. It is thus that some of you have grieved Him; it is thus that some of you are grieving Him to-day by your contemptuous disregard of His offers of mercy and forgiveness. Oh, think what it is that you do, and surely your carelessness must give place to profound contrition, and you will resemble the Prodigal in your penitence, as you have done in your ingratitude and your guilt.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] God is to us, and to every creature incomprehensible. If thou couldst fathom or measure Him, and know His greatness by a comprehensive knowledge, He were not God. A creature can comprehend nothing but a creature. You may know God, but not comprehend Him; as your foot treadeth on the earth, but doth not cover all the earth. The sea is not a sea if you can hold it in a spoon. Thou canst not comprehend the sun which thou seest, and by which thou seest all things else, nor the sea, or the earth, no, nor a worm, nor a blade of grass: thy understanding knoweth not all that God hath put into the least of these; thou art a stranger to thyself, both body and soul. And thinkest thou, that perfectly comprehendest nothing, to comprehend God? Stop then thy over-bold inquiries, and remember that thou art a shallow, finite worm, and God is infinite. First seek to comprehend the heaven and earth and whole creation, before thou think of comprehending Him to whom the whole world is nothing, or vanity.—Baxter, 1615–1691.
[2] During one part of the trip our party was augmented by a redif, or soldier of the reserves, who was going home on leave of absence. He wore the uniform of the Turkish soldier, but I observed that in the evening he threw over his shoulders a woman’s robe, made of a soft thin kind of felt, worn by the women in this country, and beautifully embroidered in colours around the neck and bosom. I had the curiosity to inquire into the history of this gown, and could scarcely restrain my indignation at the story I heard. The soldier said he had got the gown at Saitschar. After the discovery of the evacuation of the place by the Servians, he and a party of four or five more entered the town. In one of the houses they found a Servian family that had decided to remain in their house, and throw themselves on the mercy of the Turks. This family consisted of an old man, a married daughter with two children, and a girl of fourteen, whose relationship to the rest of the family they did not take the trouble to inquire into. The husband of the woman, if she had one, was absent. They began by fastening all the doors, so that nobody could escape: then they thoroughly pillaged the house, and took and divided everything of value among themselves. They were in the house a day and a night, for it was a rich one apparently, and it took some time to get everything properly divided and packed; and besides, they were disposed to be merry and make a night of it.
I will not enter into the details of what they did during the night, because there are people who do not apparently object in the least to the commission of these deeds, who object to anybody lifting a finger to prevent them, or even to the expression of any indignation on the subject, but who are dreadfully shocked at the recital of them; and I wish to spare the feelings of these sensitive persons. Suffice it to say that the next morning the question arose as to what should be done with the two women, the two children, and the old man. Some of the party were in favour of letting them go; but the rest were of opinion that it would be amusing to kill them, and a discussion ensued, which lasted more than an hour, in the presence of the weeping, trembling victims, who were wildly begging for mercy, and among whom, it should be remembered, there was a mother begging for the lives of her two children. The narrator said that he, with another of the party, had leant to the side of mercy, but that the majority were against them, and that they finally ended the discussion and the prayers of the victims by falling upon them with their sabres. I asked him how he had come by the gown, and he replied that, seeing what the result was going to be, he had stripped it from the girl while the discussion was in progress, before she was killed, so that it might not be blood-stained. He had taken a fancy to it, because it would just be right for his daughter, who was about the same age; and his companions, perceiving this, made him pay rather high for it—fifty piastres. He was a heavy, dull-looking brute, and it seemed strange to think that he had a daughter, a pretty, tender, joyous little thing, perhaps, that would wear this gown with delight. He told the story in a quiet, phlegmatic manner, and spoke very freely, looking upon me as an Englishman, and therefore as a friend.—Letter in the “Daily News,” Nov. 15, 1876.
A Sad Canticle.
v. 4–6. What could have been done more to my vineyard? &c.
There are certain epochs in the history of the Church when on every hand may be seen the saddest indifference. This state of things is not owing to a suspension of Divine gifts, nor to the absence of earnest pastors, nor to the circumstances by which God’s people are surrounded. Everything has been done for the vineyard which the wise and gracious husbandman could perform, yet no fruit is produced. The fault lies with the Church itself. Individual members have relapsed into a state of ease and supineness. Faithful warnings have been unheeded; earnest entreaties have been disregarded; mercies have been unnoticed; chastisements have been profitless. At such a time they who sigh and cry for this desolation, turn to the despised or forgotten Lord, and sing their mournful canticle, “My well-beloved,” &c. (ver. 1, 2). Then the Lord replies, “Judge, I pray you,” &c. (ver. 3–6). It is too true the sorrowful singer admits, and says ‘He looked for judgment,’ &c. (ver. 7).
Let us consider the similitude under which the Church is represented, the just complaint of the Lord, and the terrible condemnation He pronounces.
I. The Similitude. A vineyard.
This parable is peculiarly interesting on account of the fact that our Lord Jesus uttered one in many respects similar to it (Matt. xxi. 33). The figure of the vineyard is often used in the Old Testament, generally to represent the Church. The vineyard of the parable is represented as being—1. In a very favourable locality. 2. Planted with the choicest vine. 3. Carefully fenced and diligently cultivated. 4. Having the husbandman living in the midst. “Built a tower.” God is His own watchman on the walls of Zion.
II. The Complaint. “It brought forth wild grapes.” Observe the complaint is not based upon the poverty or paucity of the crop, or even upon the absence of a crop altogether, or because of the lateness of the crop. There is an abundant crop; but of what? “wild grapes,” i.e., “poisonous berries,” like those the servant of Elisha gathered (2 Kings iv. 39). A crop that could have grown without the husbandman at all. An unnatural production. One calculated to injure, if not to destroy life. The husbandman’s design is thwarted; he expected that which would nourish and stimulate life; whereas the opposite is produced. The allegory explains itself. The inconsistencies and follies, the disobedience and idolatry of the Church, are like deadly upas trees in the world; they tend to produce infidelity, i.e., moral death, among men. The mission of the Church is to proclaim life, by God’s Spirit to communicate it; instead of that, a worldly and apostate Church leads men to say and believe, “There is no God.” This is unnatural; the proper fruit of the Church is holiness, obedience, and zeal.
III. The Condemnation. (vers. 5, 6).
1. Observe the mercy of the condemnation. “It shall be eaten up.” The obnoxious growth shall be destroyed. The pride, the ignorance, the idolatry of the Church shall be removed. God will not abandon her, as He does the world, to fill up her measure of iniquity. He must be glorified in His saints, although not now, yet afterward. The patient husbandman will wait for another year, when his choice vine shall yield choice fruit.
2. Observe the severity of the condemnation. Her privileges shall not be enjoyed. “The hedge taken away.” Direful persecution shall be experienced. “It shall be trodden down.” The Spirit’s influence shall be withheld. “I will also command the clouds that they rain no rain upon it.” It is so with the Jews. That vineyard is desolate now;—the vines are trodden under foot; the rain rains not on them, but they are not rooted up. God shall plant another hedge, dwell again in the forsaken tower; and His ancient people shall grow and flourish on the fruitful hill; bringing forth such fruit that the husbandman shall rejoice, and earth and heaven be glad.—Stems and Twigs, vol. i. pp. 246–249.
On the Advantage of Small Allotments of Land to the Poor.
v. 7, 8. He looked for judgment, but behold oppression; for righteousness, but behold a cry. Woe unto them that join house to house, and lay field to field, till there be no place.
I. The Almighty expects from all His creatures, and especially from those to whom He has given wealth or power, the practice of justice and righteousness. II. The Almighty, instead of finding justice and righteousness among His creatures, discovers oppression on the part of the powerful, and a cry of lamentation and of indignation on the part of the poor: the proof of the oppression, and the cause of the cry is, that no place is left for the poor. There is a strong tendency to the accumulation of property, and especially of land, in the hands of a few; but such accumulations of land in a few hands tends to grave national evils—to luxury on the part of the rich, and to lawlessness on the part of the poor—and, therefore, instead of being promoted, should be discouraged by the legislature. But year by year we have been adding “field to field, and house to house,” till we have left the poor no place. Rights of common and rights of pasture have been taken away, and the beer-shop established by law to occupy the time which otherwise would have been employed in healthy toil for a happy family. Little farms, held by working farmers, have been joined together, so that one may live in luxury, where ten families once dwelt in simplicity and plenty. The cottager, in his little field, that once looked so fruitful and trim, cheering the eye and charming the heart, not only of himself, but of beings dear to and dependent upon him, has been driven into some town to add to its misery, its debasement, and its discontent. Let us pray that there may come a time when the gentle in rank shall be gentle in very deed; when the rich shall recognise that they are trustees for God, and shall use their property for the purposes for which He has placed it in their hands; when allotment acts shall remedy the ruin which enclosure acts have wrought; when an enlightened self-love, arising out of the possession of something to love, shall render the demagogue and the inciter to outrage a foreigner to our land, and when our “common Father” shall find that “justice and righteousness” for which He looks.—R. C. Parkman, B.A., Sermons (1843), No. X.
Wild Grapes.
v. 8–23. Woe unto them that join house to house, &c.
It is important to remember that this whole chapter constitutes one prophecy. Much of the power of its teaching will be lost, if this fact be overlooked. In verses 1–7, we have the astonishing declaration that in “the vineyard of the Lord of hosts” He has discovered, not the excellent fruit He had a right to expect, but “wild grapes.” In verses 8–23, some of these “wild grapes” are specified and denounced. Surveying His vineyard the Husbandman beheld—
I. Not the gracious fruit of generosity, but the evil fruits of greed and pride. He saw men, not content with the possessions which Providence had conferred upon them, nor those which honest industry would enable them to secure, but coveting their neighbour’s possessions, and hesitating at no means that would enable them to gratify their desires (Micah ii. 1, 2); beating down their equals, that they themselves might dwell in solitary grandeur (ver. 8). Note, 1. That the aggregation of landed property here denounced was directly contrary to the most explicit Divine ordinances (Num. xxxvi. 7; Lev. xxv. 23, 24).[1] 2. The conduct here denounced has its counterparts to-day—in the matter of land, great landowners buying up all the little farms adjoining their estates, and turning fruitful valleys into deer-runs; in trade, great capitalists subjecting their less wealthy rivals to ruinous competition, &c., &c.[2] 3. That it is not merely particular manifestations of the spirit of greed and pride, but the spirit itself, that provokes the indignation of the bountiful Giver of all good. Covetousness and arrogance are not confined to any particular class. The tenth commandment exists for the poor as well as for the rich.
II. Not the excellent fruit of temperance, but the evil fruit of sensual indulgence (ver. 11, 12). He saw men living for mere pleasure, without any recognition of the “work” which He had wrought for them as a nation, without any acknowledgement of His goodness to them as individuals, without any remembrance of the purpose of their being.[3]
III. Not the excellent fruit of reverence for God’s Word, but the evil fruit of scoffing. The messengers whom He sent to recall them to duty, they scorned; the warnings which He mercifully sent to them of the judgments impending over them, they turned into merriment. Instead of forsaking their sins, they yoked themselves to them with renewed determination (verses 18, 19).
IV. Not the noble fruit of a recognition of the truth, but the evil fruit of infidelity—that intellectual scepticism which seeks to destroy the very foundations of morality, and which prepares men for vice of all kinds, and hardens them therein, by confounding vice with virtue, and denying man’s moral accountability.
V. Not the befitting fruit of humility and desire for Divine guidance, but the evil fruit of self-sufficiency (ver. 21). Clever and successful “men of the world,” they resented the idea of their needing counsel and help as an insult. They were their own gods. Trusting in themselves with unfaltering confidence, they excluded from their minds all thought of Him in whom they lived and moved and had their being. Conceiving that they owed all their prosperity to their own wisdom and prudence, how could they give Him thanks? Confident that they would be equal to every emergency of life, how could they lift up to Him one real prayer?
VI. Not the indispensable fruit of righteousness in those who are called to rule, but that evil fruit which always excites His hottest indignation, denial of justice to the poor. He saw the judges taking their seats on the judicial bench, not with clear intellects and the love of righteousness enthroned in their hearts, but besotted and brutalised by strong drink; not dispensing justice, but selling their verdict to those who could furnish them most amply with the means of gratifying their sensual lusts (vers. 22, 23). Than the denial of justice there is no more cruel wrong.
These were the “wild grapes” which God saw when He looked down upon His ancient vineyard. Was it any wonder that He brake down the wall thereof, and give it over to destruction? These are the “wild grapes” which He sees brought forth only too abundantly when He looks down upon this land. Is it not a wonder that He spares the nation to which we belong? 1. Let us beseech Him still to spare us, for the sake of the “ten righteous” who dwell among us. 2. Let us recognise that the most urgent duty to which we are called as patriots is the abatement of those iniquities which justly kindle God’s indignation against us. 3. Let us as individuals search and see what fruits are being brought forth in the vineyard of our own souls, lest while we are deploring the iniquities of our land and time, and, it may be, are labouring to lessen them, there grow up within us, “wild grapes” which will bring down upon us the Divine condemnation.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Political philosophy has much to say in favour of laws and institutions, at certain periods of a nation’s growth, for encouraging, or at least permitting, the disposition of its members to found families, to be maintained by hereditary possessions in land. Yet, if this disposition be not kept within bounds, those who are influenced by it will “join house to house, and field to field, till there be no place;” till the race of small landholders, yeomen, and partly independent tenants, is swallowed up by a few rich despots. To prevent this evil among the Hebrews, Moses directed as equal a division of the land as possible in the first instance, among the 600,000 families who originally formed the nation; and provided against the permanent alienation of any estate, by giving a right of repurchase to the seller and his relations, and of repossession without purchase at the Jubilee. The story of Naboth illustrates the effect of these laws in forming an order of sturdy, independent yeomen; but it must also be taken as an instance of the habitual breach of the same laws by the rich and powerful (cf. Micah ii.; Neh. v. 1–13; 2 Chron. xxxvi. 21); as they in like manner disobeyed that respecting the liberation of slaves at the Jubilee (Jer. xxxvi. 8–16). In England, where the Norman conquest accumulated all the land in the hands of a few nobles, the like accumulation has been opposed—however imperfectly—by laws in their form exactly opposite to those of Moses; by the permission to cut off old entails, and the prohibition to make new ones except for one generation, and by allowing land to be bought and sold like other commodities.—Strachey, pp. 65, 66.
[2] The covetous man is like a spider. As in this, that he does nothing but lay his nets to catch every fly, gaping only for a booty of gain. So yet more, in that while he makes nets for these flies, he consumes his own bowels; so that which is his life is his death. If there be any creature miserable, it be he; and yet he is least to be pitied, because he makes himself miserable. Such as he is I will account him; and will therefore sweep down his webs, and hate his poison.—Hall, 1574–1656.
Covetous worldlings will hardly spare the poor some of their fire to warm them, some of their water to drink, some of their ground to lodge on, though it were no more hurt to them than the lighting of a candle at their torch.—Adams, 1653.
[3] Let us remember that it will be to small purposes to enjoy these worldly pleasures of sin for a season, and in the end plunge ourselves into everlasting death;—that the world’s music is but the syren’s song, which allures us to make shipwreck of our souls on the rocks of sin, and while it tickles the ear it wounds us to the very heart;—that though the cup which it offers be of gold, and the drink sweet in taste, yet it is deadly poison in operation; for they that drink thereof are so lulled asleep in pleasures and security, that they never awaken out of their spiritual lethargy; or if they do, yet like Sampson, without strength to resist the spiritual Philistines, after the world (like Delilah) has lulled them awhile in her lap of carnal pleasures.—Downame, 1642.
Covetousness.
v. 8–10. Woe unto them that join house to house, &c.
Covetousness is—I. Ruinous to the individual.[1] II. Mischievous to society. III. Offensive to God. IV. Certain to be punished. 1. Here, by disappointment and loss (Prov. iii. 33).[2] 2. Hereafter, by exclusion from heaven (1 Cor. vi. 10; Eph. v. 5).[3]—J. Lyth, D.D.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The love of money can never keep good quarter with honesty; there is a mint of fraud in the worldly breast, and it can coin lies as fast as utterance.—Adams, 1653.
The avaricious man is like a pig, which seeks its food in the mud, without caring where it comes from.—Vianney.
[2] As Moses only saw the land of Canaan, but for his sin was not permitted to have any share or portion in it, so misers have, for their miserable covetousness, this punishment by God inflicted on them, that they shall only see their goods with eyes, but never enjoy them for their comfort; and that they shall toil and moil for successor, oftentimes not knowing who he shall be, and receive no manner of benefit by their own labour. But as pipes keep none of the water to themselves that runs through them, but convey it all to their cisterns, so they are not able to retain any of the goods which they possess, for their own benefit and comfort, but only serve as overseers to convey them to their heirs.—Downame, 1642.
[3] If a man, sick on his bed, burning of a fever, fetching his breath with straitness and shortness, looking like earth, says he is well in health, we do not believe him: so if we see men swelling with pride, flaming with lust, looking earthy with covetousness, and yet flattering themselves with hope of salvation, we cannot credit them, all the world cannot save them.—Adams, 1654.
The covetous is like a camel, with a great hunch on his back; heaven-gate must be made higher and broader, or he will hardly get in.—Adams, 1653.
God’s Curse on the Covetous.
v. 8. Woe unto them that join house to house, &c.
God’s curse is in the habitation of the wicked. 1. Sometimes the curse enters into their hearts, and prevents them from enjoying comfort in their estates, and perplexes them with fears and cares about their possessions.[1] 2. At other times it wastes and consumes them like a moth, or suddenly devours them by fire and sword. 3. In some existences they are suddenly and unexpectedly snatched away from their enjoyments by death.[2]—Macculloch, Lectures on Isaiah, i. 275.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The covetous man pines in plenty, like Tantalus, up to the chin.—Adams, 1693.
I doubt not many covetous men take a great deal of pleasure in ruminating upon their wealth, and in recounting what they have; but they have a great deal of tormenting care and fear about it; and if they had not, it is very hard to understand where the reasonable pleasure and happiness lies of having things to no end. It is, at the best, like that of some foolish birds, which, they say, take pleasure in stealing money, that they may hide it; as if it were worth the while for men to take pains to dig silver out of the earth, for no other purpose but to melt it down and stamp it, and bury it there again.—Tillotson, 1630–1694.
[2] What can be more miserable, than for a man to toil and labour his whole life, and to have no power to enjoy any fruit of his labours? to bear like an ass a golden burden all the day, and, without any further use of it, at night, to have it taken away, reserving nothing to himself but a galled conscience?—Downame, 1644.
The Miseries of the Drunkard.
v. 11. Woe unto them that rise up early in the morning, that they may follow strong drink, &c.
The miseries of the drunkard. I. Personal, ungodly companionship, eclipse of intellect, demoralisation of nature,[1] retribution, here and hereafter. II. Domestic, poverty,[2] dissension, vice, misery.—J. Lyth, D.D.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Not in the day of thy drunkenness only dost thou undergo the harm of drunkenness, but also after that day. And as when a fever is passed by, the mischievous consequences of the fever remain, so also when drunkenness is passed, the disturbance of intoxication is whirling round both soul and body. And while the wretched body lies paralysed, like the hull of a vessel after a shipwreck, the soul yet more miserable than it, even when this is ended, stirs up the storm, and kindles desire; and when one seems to be sober, then most of all is he mad, imagining to himself wine and casks, cups and goblets.
And like as in a storm when the raging of the water has ceased, the loss by reason of the storm remains; so likewise here too. For as there of our freight, so here to is there a casting away of nearly all our good things. Whether it be temperance, or modesty, or understanding, or meekness, or humility, which the drunkenness finds there, it casts all away into the sea of iniquity.
But in what follows there is no more any likeness. Since there, indeed, upon the casting out the vessel is lightened, but here it is weighed down the more. For in its former place of wealth it takes on board sand, and salt water, and all the accumulated filth of drunkenness, enough to sink the vessel at once, with the mariners and the pilot.—Chrysostom, 347–407.
[2] Thieves cannot steal land, unless they be Westminster Hall thieves, crafty contenders that eat out a true title with a false evidence; but the drunkard robs himself of his lands. Now he dissolves an acre, and then an acre, into the pot, till he hath ground all his ground at the malt-quern, and run all his patrimony through his throat. Thus he makes himself the living tomb of his forefathers, of posterity. He needs not trouble his sick mind with a will, nor distrust the fidelity of executors. He drowns all his substance at the ale-fat, and though he devours much, is the leaner every way. Drunkenness is a costly sin. It is like gunpowder, many a man is blown up by it. He throws his house so long out as windows, till at last his house throws him out of doors. This is a tippler’s progress: from luxury to beggary; from beggary to thievery; from the tavern to Tyburn; from the alehouse to the gallows.—Adams, 1653.
National Ungodliness.
v. 11–17. Woe unto him that rise up early in the morning, that they may follow strong drink, &c.
National ungodliness. I. Its phases, dissipation, drunkenness, forgetfulness of God. II. Its punishment, captivity, famine, pestilence, humiliation. III. The certainty of its visitation, God must be vindicated, His people must be delivered.[1]—J. Lyth, D.D.
FOOTNOTES:
[1]
The individual culprit may sometimes
Unpunished to his after-reckoning go:
Not thus collective man; for public crimes
Draw on their proper punishment below.
When nations go astray, from age to age
The effects remain, a fatal heritage.
Bear witness, Egypt, thy huge monuments,
Of priestly fraud and tyranny austere!
Bear witness thou, whose only name presents
All holy feelings to religion dear—
In earth’s dark circlet once the precious gem
Of living light—O fallen Jerusalem!—Southey.
Sensuality.
v. 11, 12. Woe unto them that rise up early in the morning, that they may follow strong drink; that continue until night, till wine inflame them! And the harp, and the viol, the tabret, and pipe, and wine, are in their feasts; but they regard not the work of the Lord, neither consider the operation of His hands.
Sensuality. I. Its features. II. Its follies. III. Its inconsideration.[1] IV. Its punishment.—J. Lyth, D.D.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Of men out of hell, none more to be pitied than he who hangs over its mouth, and yet is without fear. What good does physic poured down a dead man’s throat? If he cannot be chafed to some sense of his condition, all applications are hopeless; and if sharp affliction, which is the strongest physic, leaves the sinner senseless, there is little prospect that anything else will do him good.—Gurnall, 1617–1679.
Oh, what a sight it is to see a man go merry and laughing towards damnation, and make a jest of his own undoing! to see him at the brink of hell, and will not believe it; like a madman boasting of his wit, or a drunken man boasting of his sobriety; or as the swine is delighted when the butcher is shaving his throat to cut it; or as the fatted lambs are skipping in the pasture, that to-morrow must be killed and eaten; or as the bird sits singing when the gun is levelled to kill him; or as the greedy fish run, striving which shall catch the bait, that must presently be snatched out of their element, and lie dying on the bank.—Baxter, 1615–1691.
Earthly Amusement.
v. 12. The harp, and the viol, the tabret, and pipe, and wine are in their feasts: but they regard not the work of the Lord, neither consider the operation of His hands.
Earthly amusement. I. Its ordinary features. II. Its mischievous tendency.[1] III. Its consequent sinfulness.—J. Lyth, D.D.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] If you have glutted yourself with worldly pleasures, it is no wonder that you should find an unsavoury taste in spiritual delights. Doves that are already filled find cherries bitter.—Francis de Sales.
Festivity and Forgetfulness.
v. 12. The harp, and the viol, the tabret, and pipe, and wine are in their feasts: but they regard not the work of the Lord, neither consider the operation of His hands.
I. Prosperity ought to lead to praise. We should have expected that when a man was able to spread a feast, and God had caused his “cup to run over” with bounties, his heart would have overflowed with gratitude to the Giver of all good. II. As a matter of fact, prosperity is hostile to the spiritual life. Experience teaches that in proportion as men prosper, they seek luxury, invent pleasures, and give up allegiance to God;[1] and as soon as men yield to the passions of the flesh, and pursue the fashions of the world, all adequate sense or knowledge of the operations of a Supreme Being is gone; all serious views of life are set aside; and the end of such a career is banished from view.[2] III. To permit the pleasures of life to absorb our attention is degrading to the nature entrusted to us by God. IV. It is destructive of the happiness which thus is mistakenly sought. In the hearts of the guests at a feast there is often anything but festivity. Many vacant minds and languid hearts are there; some who are in reality fleeing from themselves, and drowning rising reflections in fresh engagements of pleasure.[3] Could you see those hearts as God sees them, if you are a Christian, you would be thankful that you are excluded from the festivity.
Application.—1. To the rich and prosperous. Be on your guard. In your prosperity there is a deadly peril. Remember that while innocent enjoyment is lawful, there are other duties of more importance—duties of mind and soul, of influence and responsibility; duties toward the men of our generation, and towards God to whom we are accountable. 2. To the poor. Murmur not that prosperity has been denied you. Wealth might have been your eternal ruin. Envy not the momentary flash of worldly pomp: soon the deluded soul must be summoned into the solitude of the chamber of death; nothing to console the vacant mind; nothing to cheer the throbbing heart; the rolling eye looks in vain for rest, but the life of vanity closes, and conscience pierces the departing soul with this declaration, “Thou art weighed in the balances and art found wanting.”—B. Thompson, Church Sermons by Eminent Clergymen, i. 395–400.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Nothing shall more effectually betray the heart into a love of sin and a loathing of holiness, than an ill-managed prosperity. It is like some meats, the more luscious, so much the more dangerous. Prosperity and ease upon an unsanctified, impure heart, is like the sunbeams upon a dunghill; it raises many filthy, noisome exhalations. The same soldiers who, in hard service, are in perfect subjection to their leaders, in peace and luxury are apt to rebel; (and the passions, which in adversity are easily controlled, in prosperity are apt to break loose). That corrupt affection which has lain, as it were, dead and frozen in the midst of distracting business, or under adversity, when the sun of prosperity has shined upon it, then, like a snake, it presently recovers its former strength and venom. Vice must be caressed and smiled upon that it may thrive and sting. It is starved by poverty, it droops under the frowns of fortune, and pines away upon bread and water; but when the channels of plenty run high, and every appetite is plied with abundance and variety, so that satisfaction is but a mean word to express its enjoyment, then the inbred corruption of the heart shows itself pampered and insolent, too unruly for discipline, and too big for correction.—South, 1633–1716.
[2] It is a hard thing for princes to remember death. They have no leisure to think of it, but chip into the earth before they beware, like a man who walks over a field covered with snow, and sees not his way, but when he thinks to run on, suddenly falls into a pit: even so they who have all things at will, and swim in pleasure, which as a snow covers their way and dazzles their sight, while they think to live on, and rejoice still, suddenly rush upon death, and make shipwreck in a calm sea.—Henry Smith, 1593.
[3] Colonel Gardiner relates that when he was considered by his gay military companions to be one of the most handsome and highly favoured officers of his day, he has seen a dog enter the mess-room, prowling for food, and looked at the creature with envy, inwardly groaning and exclaiming, “Oh, that I were that dog!” Since his time thousands have felt the same iron enter their souls, although looked upon by their comrades as men enjoying life in rich abundance.—Holderness.
The Evils of Ignorance.
(Sunday School or Bible Society Sermon.)
v. 13–15. Therefore my people are gone away into captivity, because they have no knowledge, &c.
Isaiah speaks of the future as if it were already present. He traces the terrible disasters about to befall his countrymen to their true cause—their ignorance of God,—in their case a wilful ignorance (Hosea iv. 6), which had betrayed them into courses of conduct ruinous in themselves, and certain to bring down the judgments of the Almighty. The history of mankind justifies us in laying down two propositions: I. That ignorance is a terrible evil. To be in ignorance of the great facts of God’s universe, of the great laws by which He governs it, is to be in a condition of constant peril. We are as men who wander in darkness over the great mountains; every step may be taking us further from the right path, the next step may hurl us over some unsuspected precipice. Remember what calamities—political, commercial, social—have been due solely to ignorance. [Illustrate by examples.][1] II. That the most terrible of all kinds of ignorance is ignorance of God Himself. 1. Much sin is due to ignorance.[2] Not all sin, for there are many transgressions committed against full light—the worst form of iniquity. But concerning multitudes of sinners we may pray, as did Our Lord for His executioners, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” The most appalling of all sins was committed in ignorance (1 Cor. ii. 8). Did men truly know God, they would fear, love, and gladly serve Him. For lack of a true knowledge of God, men who desired to serve Him have perpetrated the most frightful crimes (John xvi. 2; Acts xxvi. 9). 2. Sins committed in ignorance entail terrible disasters. That unavoidable ignorance is a palliation of the guilt of transgression is clearly the teaching of the New Testament (Luke xxiii. 34; 1 Tim. i. 13), as it had been previously of the Old (Num. xv. 28; Deut. xix. 4, &c.); and it will affect their condition in the eternal world (Luke xii. 47, 48). But here and now it does nothing to exempt men from the natural consequences of their transgressions. The man who swallows a poison by mistake is killed by it as surely as the deliberate suicide, &c.
In view of these solemn truths, of which all human history is one prolonged corroboration,—1. We should constantly endeavour to grow in knowledge. “More light!” should be our constant prayer. Every means of acquainting ourselves with God and His will we should diligently use. Let us beware of the temptation indolently to rest in a voluntary ignorance. Voluntary ignorance is no palliation, but a tremendous aggravation of iniquity.[3] 2. Let us diligently impart to our fellow-men such knowledge as we have already acquired. Benevolence should move us to do this. We can confer upon our fellow-men no greater or more needed blessing. Self-interest should impel us to the same course. In teaching we learn. In labouring to cause others to see, we ourselves for the first time attain to clear vision. Knowledge is like the bread with which the five thousand were fed; it multiplies as it is dispensed, and when the feast is over, those who carried it to others themselves possess more than they did when the feast began. 3. Every organisation which exists for the diffusion of knowledge should have our sympathy and support both as patriots and Christians. This is true even of secular knowledge, but especially of that knowledge which is able to make men “wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus.”[4]