FOOTNOTES:

[1] As blindness is the deformity of the face, so is ignorance the deformity of the soul. As the want of fleshly eyes spoils the beauty of the face, so the want of spiritual eyes spoils the beauty of the soul. A man without knowledge is as a workman without his hands, as a painter without his eyes, as a traveller without his legs, or as a ship without sails, or a bird without wings, or like a body without a soul.—Brooks, 1680.

[2] Ignorance opens the door for Satan to enter in with his troops of lusts; where the watch is blind, the city is soon taken.—Gurnall, 1617–1679.

[3] He that knew not his Lord’s will, because he wilfully rejected the means of coming to the knowledge of it, deserves to be beaten with as many stripes as if he had known it and would not. He that will not take notice of the king’s proclamation, or will stop his ears when it is read, and afterwards offends against it, does equally deserve punishment with those who have read it, and heard it, and disobey it; because he was as grossly faulty in not knowing it; and there is no reason that any man’s gross fault should be his excuse.—Tillotson, 1630–1694.

[4] Oh, for the coming of that glorious time
When, prizing knowledge as her noblest wealth
And best protection, this imperial realm,
While she exacts allegiance, shall admit
An obligation, on her part, to teach
Them who are born to serve her and obey;
Binding herself by stature to secure
For all the children whom her soil maintains
The rudiments of letters, and inform
The mind with moral and religious truth,
Both understood and practised,—so that none,
However destitute, be left to droop
By culture unsustained; or run
Into a wild disorder; or be forced
To drudge through a weary life without the help
Of intellectual implements and tools;
A savage horde among the civilised;
A servile band among the lordly free.—Wordsworth.

 

Death and the Grave.

(For Easter Sunday.)

v. 14, 15. Therefore hell hath enlarged herself, &c.

In these terms of appalling sublimity Isaiah warns his countrymen of the calamities that were about to come upon them, on account of the innumerable transgressions into which they had been betrayed by their wilful ignorance of God. Therefore they should be carried away into captivity (ver. 13), and therefore also the sword, famine, and pestilence would conspire to fill the “under-world” with inhabitants. That “under-world” is represented as preparing itself for their reception, as a ravenous beast opens wide its jaws to devour its prey (Text). A prediction which, to the prosperous, wealthy, and powerful nation over which Uzziah ruled, doubtless seemed the most extravagant raving of fanaticism, but which was fulfilled nevertheless.

It is of the “under-world” that Isaiah speaks. “Therefore the under-world opens its jaws wide, and stretches open its mouth immeasurably wide; and the glory of Jerusalem descends, and its tumult, and noise, and those who rejoice within it. There are mean men bowed down, and lords humbled, and the eyes of lofty men are humbled.”—Delitsch. Our translation “hell” must not lead us to think merely of the place where the wicked are tormented; it is of conquests about to be achieved by death and the grave that Isaiah warned the men of his time. His prediction suggests a topic of which men of all times will do well to think, and that again another topic peculiarly suited to this day. Let us bethink ourselves—

I. Of the conquests of death and the grave. 1. These conquests have been effected in all ages. Generation after generation of mankind has been swept away by these grim and ancient warriors. During successive centuries men have gained wonderful power over the forces of nature, but they have acquired no real increase of ability to withstand these dread destroyers. All that science can do is in a few cases for a very short time to defer their victory. The “Elixir of Life” has been sought for in vain.—If in feebleness of mankind we had not sufficient proof of our fallen condition, certainly we should find it in the fact, that so many men have allied themselves with these foes of our race. All nations have conferred their brightest honours on those who have been the most successful ministers of death. Warrior and hero have been regarded as synonymous terms. In no respect is modern science more industrious, earnest or successful, than in the search for the means by which human life may be destroyed most easily on the largest scale. 2. They have been characterised by a solemn impartiality. With them there has been no respect of persons. (1.) Meanness is no security against them. Poverty and lowliness are not without their compensations, as the poorer Jews discovered, when they saw the nobles and men of wealth, whom they had been accustomed to envy, carried away miserable captives, while they themselves were left behind (2 Kings xxiv. 14–16, &c). There are those whom human conquerors will not stoop to molest. But death and the grave have no such fastidiousness. They prey on the mean as well as the mighty. (2.) Might is no defence against them. Rank and wealth can accomplish much, but they cannot overawe or bribe death.[1] Death works like a reaper in the dark, cutting down the tall ears of corn as well as the grass that struggles for existence between them, the fair flowers as well as the noisome weeds. 3. They have been characterised by a terrible unexpectedness. They are certain, but they cannot be foreseen. While they proceed with all the steadiness of gravitation, it is as impossible to foretell where they will be next accomplished, as it is to predict from which part of the heavens the next flash of lightning will burst forth, on which spot of earth the destructive fire will fall. Hence the wisdom of living in continual preparedness for the great change which will come to us all.[2]

II. This survey of the conquests of death and the grave should remind us that there is another side to this solemn theme, and therefore I proceed to remind you, secondly, of the conquerors of death and the grave. Through how many centuries did men live without any conception that these conquerors of our race might themselves be subjugated! Two astonishing events, indeed, occurred—the translation of Enoch and the rapture of Elijah—but their significance could not be fully understood at the time of their occurrence. The data for their complete interpretation had not then been furnished. But when that supreme event which we commemorate to-day occurred, these and many other mysteries were solved. When the Son of man, who had been crucified, emerged from the tomb, proclamation was made to the universe that the ancient power of death and the grave was broken. It was seen that it is possible to pass through them unharmed, and to return to the activities of life, not with diminished, but with increased, vigour. And He who demonstrated this astonishing truth has pledged Himself to accomplish for all who trust in Him a victory similar to His own. By faith in this pledge, countless millions have been enabled to triumph in spirit over Death at the very moment when he seemed to be numbering them also among his victims (1 Cor. xv. 55–57).

1. The victory of Christ’s followers over death and the grave is real. There seems to be one event unto all (Eccles. ix. 2, 3). But it is not so. Death is not the conqueror of Christ’s servant; he is God’s servant, sent to conduct them to the rest prepared for them. The grave is not their prison, but a quiet resting-place from which presently the mortal body shall come forth immortal to greet the eternal morning.

2. The victory of Christ’s followers over death and the grave will ere long be manifest (1 Thess. iv. 14–16, &c.) In the doctrine of the resurrection, there is much that is mysterious and inexplicable, but this is certain, that the seeming victory of death and the grave over Christ’s followers shall be utterly reversed; as not a hoof belonging to God’s ancient people was left behind in Egypt, so nothing that belongs to a single follower of Christ upon which death and the grave have seized shall remain in their power (Hos. xiii. 14). The resurrection will be more than a ransom. It will be a development (1 Cor. xv. 37, 38, 42, 44). In view of these truths, let us to-day keep Easter with thankful and joyful hearts.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Look how easily Jehu stamped Jezebel in pieces, and Tamerlane’s troops of horse the Turkish footmen; or as the sturdy steed dashes out the little whappet’s brains, so easily does Death, with the least kick and spurn of his heel, the halest complexion, the stoutest constitution,—triumphing like an emperor over all sorts of people; treading on the necks of kings and princes, as Joshua over them in the cave; insulting in the terms of Rabshakeh: “Where is Hamath? the kings of Arphad, Ivah, and Sepharvaim? Elam, Meshech, and Tubal, whose fear was upon the living, are they not descended into the grave? made their beds in the slimy valley, and laid their swords under their heads? Hath wisdom delivered, strength rescued, or wealth rescued any out my fingers?”—Ward, 1577–1639.

Oh, eloquent, just, and mighty Death! whom none could advise, thou hast persuaded; what none hath dared, thou hast done; and whom all the world hath flattered, thou alone hast cast out of the world and despised. Thou hast drawn together all the far-stretched greatness, all the pride, cruelty, and ambition of man, and covered it all with those two narrow words, Hic jacet.Sir Walter Raleigh.

[2] We put far away the evil day, and therefore we are not duly impressed by the thought. But fourscore years and soon cut off, and we fly away; and how uncertain is our reaching that lonely verge of life, where the flowery meadows and the golden corn-fields slope gradually down into the bars and stony beach that fringes the eternal sea. The coast of death to most is an abrupt precipice; we are cut off in the midst of our days.—Macmillan.

Why should a man defer that which ought to be the occupation of a life, which ought to command all his powers in all their vigour—why should a man defer that to the last few abrupt moments, to his departure from time to eternity? When a man is going to any distant part of the globe—say to America—what preparation there is! How much it is talked about! It is a long, a distant, an eventful journey. The man talks about it; his friends prepare in every conceivable way. Oh, what infatuation and stupidity, what folly it is for a man to make no preparation for this distant voyage—the voyage to eternity!—Beaumont.

 

Cords of Vanity.

v. 18. Woe unto them that draw iniquity with cords of vanity, and sin as it were with a cart rope.

“ ‘Sin’ in the last clause is parallel with iniquity in the first—a noun and not a verb. Both are said to be ‘drawn.’ The style of sinning here contemplated is fully given in the next verse.”—Cowles.

“They were proud in their unbelief; but this unbelief was like a halter with which, like beasts of burden they were harnessed to sin, which they went on drawing further and further, in utter ignorance of the waggon behind them.”—Delitsch.

“Cart ropes, you know, are composed of several small cords firmly twisted together, which serve to connect the beasts of burden with the draught they pull after them. These represent a complication of means closely united, whereby the people here described continue to join themselves to the most wearisome of all burdens. They consist of false reasonings, foolish pretexts, and corrupt maxims, by which obstinate transgressors become firmly united to their sins, and persist in dragging after them their iniquities. Of this sort the following are a few specimens: God is merciful, and His goodness will not suffer any of His creatures to be completely and everlastingly miserable. Others, as well as they, are transgressors. Repentance will be time enough upon a deathbed, or in old age. The greatest of sinners often pass unpunished. A future state of retribution is uncertain. Unite these, and such like cords, and, I suppose, you have the cart ropes, whereby the persons mentioned draw after them much sin and iniquity. All these pretexts, however, are light as vanity.”—Macculloch.

 

Scepticism.

v. 19. That say, Let Him make speed and hasten His work, that we may see it: and let the counsel of the Holy One of Israel draw nigh and come, that we may know it.

Scepticism, I. Denies the judgments of God. II. Draws an argument from their delay.[1] III. Impiously scoffs at the Divine counsels. IV. Defies God to do His worst.—J. Lyth, D.D.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The whole force of life and experience goes to prove that right or wrong-doing, whether in relation to the physical or the spiritual nature, is sure, in the end, to meet its appropriate reward or punishment. Penalties are often so long delayed, that men think they shall escape them; but some time they are certain to follow. When the whirlwind sweeps through the forest, at its first breath, or almost as if the fearful stillness that precedes had crushed it, the giant tree, with all its boughs, falls crashing to the ground. But it had been preparing to fall for twenty years. Twenty years before the water commenced to settle in at some crotch, and from thence decay began to reach in with its silent fingers towards the heart of the tree. Every year the work of death progressed, till at length it stood, all rottenness, only clasped about by the bark with a semblance of life and the first gale felled it to the ground. Now, there are men who, for twenty years, have shamed the day and wearied the night with their debaucheries, but who yet seem strong and vigorous, and exclaim, “You need not talk of penalties. Look at me! I have revelled in pleasure for twenty years, and I am as hale and hearty to-day as ever.” But in reality they are full of weakness and decay. They have been preparing to fall for twenty years, and the first disease strikes them down in a moment.

Ascending from the physical nature of man to the mind and character, we find the same laws prevail. People sometimes say, “Dishonesty is as good as honesty, for aught I see. There are such and such men who have pursued for years the most corrupt courses in their business, and yet they prosper, and are getting rich every day.” Wait till you see their end. Every year how many such men are overtaken with sudden destruction, and swept for ever out of sight and remembrance! Many a man has gone on in sin, practising secret fraud and villanies, yet trusted and honoured, till at length, in some unsuspected hour, he is detected, and, denounced by the world, he falls from his high estate as if a cannon-ball had struck him—for there is no cannon that can strike more fatally than outraged public sentiment—and flies over the mountains, or across the sea, to escape the odium of his life. He believed that his evil course was building him up in fame and fortune; but financiering is the devil’s forge, and his every act was a blow upon the anvil, shaping the dagger that should one day strike home to his heart and make him a suicide. The pea contains the vine, and the flower, and the pod, in embryo, and, I am sure, when I plant it, that it will produce them and nothing else. Now, every action of our lives is embryonic, and, according as it is right or wrong, it will surely bring forth sweet flowers of joy, or the poison fruits of sorrow. Such is the construction of this world, and the Bible assures us that the next world only carries it forward. Here and hereafter, “whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.”—Beecher.

 

The Influence of Language on Character.

v. 20. Woe to them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter.

Only those who have had extensive opportunities of observation, can have any idea of the evil influence of the abuse and misapplication of words in questions of religion and morals, especially among the young.[1] To an almost incredible degree the distinctness of our associations and intellectual perceptions depends upon our correct use of the machinery of words. From long usage, words become at length identified in the mind with the things we have accustomed them to represent. What, then, must be the effect when language is deliberately misapplied for the express purpose of confounding the distinctions of right and wrong! For various reasons, it is more easy to misapply words in relation to morals, than in relation to other subjects. 1. Ethical propositions are to a great degree incapable of absolute proof. 2. In discussing the great topics of morals, very few persons bring a perfectly unbiassed mind to the task. 3. Vice and virtue, though essentially distinct as qualities, are still in many cases nothing more than different modifications of some common subject. The line which separates the use of a thing for its abuse is not always strongly marked; or rather is sufficiently indistinct for those who are determined not to see clearly to afford themselves a plausible justification for the aberration of their choice. But on all these accounts we should be the more careful to use accurate language on all questions of morals, especially in society, where the temptation to speak as others are speaking is so strong. Two things especially lead to that perversion of language which our text condemns. 1. Men “call evil good,” from an almost irresistible desire to cloak and veil their vices. It is one of ten thousand daily recurring proofs of the strange inconsistencies of human nature, that the same persons whose conscience will not recoil for a moment at the actual commission of deeds of sin and atrocity, and who even appear to defy public opinion in the conduct they are pursuing, will still to the last shrink from the admission of those terms which really characterise their conduct. It is the appellation and not the actual guilt which to them constitutes the disgrace. 2. Men “call good evil,” from a desire to defend themselves from the condemnation passed upon them by the better example of others. They attempt, in the first place, by palliations and misstatements, to render vice less odious than it really is; and secondly, by attributing to the pious unworthy and corrupt motives, to render unamiable that goodness in others which they want strength of mind and of principle to imitate. From this latter species of wickedness very few stand perfectly clear. Which of us has never felt as a reproach the example of principles better and holier than our own, nor attempted in consequence to restore the equilibrium of our self-respect, not by improving our own practice, but by depreciating and ridiculing that which as Christians it was our duty to admire? Let us be on our guard against disparaging that sincerity of disposition, which strives to regulate its conduct by the unbending Christian standard, by calling it “enthusiasm,” “fanaticism,” “austerity.” Enough difficulty, we know from our own experience, lies in the way of every man’s spiritual improvement, without throwing in his path the additional obstacles of ridicule, contempt, and odium, which few minds, even the most religious, have sufficient fortitude to despise. (Matt. xxiii. 13; Mark ix. 42.) Thus, to “call good evil” is to imitate the Pharisees (Mark iii. 22), and comes perilously near committing the sin against the Holy Ghost.—P. R. Shuttleworth, D.D., Sermons, 117–143.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The world is generally governed by words and shows: for men can swallow the same thing under one name, which they would abominate and detest under another. The name of king was to the old Romans odious and insufferable; but in Sulla and Julius Cæsar they could endure the power and absoluteness of a king, disguised under the name of dictator.—South, 1633–1716.

I think that one of the master incantations, one of the most signal deceits, which we practise upon ourselves, comes from the use of language. There are words that we learn in childhood which we abandon when we come to manhood. Generally speaking, our fireside words are old Saxon words—short, knotty, tough, and imbued with moral and affectional meanings; but as we grow older these words are too rude and plain for our use, and so we get Latin terms and periphrases by which to express many of our thoughts. When we talk about ourselves we almost invariably use Latin words, and when we talk about our neighbours we use Saxon words. And one of the best things a man can do, I think, is to examine himself in the Saxon tongue. If a man tells that which is contrary to truth, let him not say, “I equivocate;” let him say “I lie.” Lie! why, it brings the judgment-day right home to a man’s thought. Men do not like it, but it is exactly the thing that will most effectually touch the moral sense; and the more the moral sense is touched the better. If a man has departed from rectitude in his dealings with another, let him not say “I took advantage,” which is a roundabout, long sentence: let him say, “I cheated.” That is a very direct word. It springs straight to the conscience, as the arrow flies from the bow to the centre of the mark. Does it grate harshly on your ear? Nevertheless, it is better that you should employ it; and you should come to this determination: “I will call things that I detect in my conduct by those clear-faced, rough-tongued words that my enemies use if they wanted to sting me to the quick.”—Beecher.

 

The Sin of Confounding Good and Evil.

v. 20. Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil.

The conscience of every man testifies that there is an unchangeable difference between good and evil; but each man is prone to think his own vice little or no sin at all. He substitutes other names for his crime, and calls his evil good. I. Many are self-deceived (Prov. xiv. 12). How many think themselves religious, merely because they pay some or much respect to the outward ordinances of religion, while there is no change in their character. How many justify their irreligion, by depicting religion as morose and gloomy. How many commit crimes without one misgiving of conscience, merely because they are varnished over by specious names. How often under the pretence of promoting the honour of true religion, massacres and murders have been sanctified, the torch of persecution brandished round, and the flame of civil discord raised, to light the path to heaven! II. Many endeavour to deceive others, by false representations of sin and duty (Luke xvii. 1, 2).—George Mathew, M.A., Sermons, ii. 101–118.

 

On the Perversion of Right and Wrong.

v. 20. Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil.

There is in many a wonderful propensity to perplex the distinctions between right and wrong, and to obscure the boundaries of virtue and vice. Their propensity is both absurd and wicked. It most frequently manifests itself in two ways:—1. By bestowing soft and gentle names on crimes of real and destructive magnitude. Thus, infidelity and scepticism have been called “free inquiry,” indifference to all religion “a spirit of toleration,” duelling “an honourable deed,” adultery “gallantry,” extravagance “a liberal expenditure,” the selfish sensualist “a good-natured man.” By the use of such false and misleading terms, we lower the standard of right and wrong, and expose ourselves to the temptation of practising what we have persuaded ourselves is not so very wrong. 2. By applauding works of genius and imagination of which the real tendency is to inflame the passions, and to weaken moral and religious principle. The tendency of such works should lead us unhesitatingly to condemn and reject them, whatever may be the literary fascinations of their style. Nothing is more dangerous than a book which imparts to vice the delusive appearance of a virtue. Thus, to confound the distinctions between right and wrong, is to renounce the superiority which man claims over the brute creation—that of being a rational creature, for the brutes are never guilty of anything so irrational as that of calling good evil, and evil good.—Charles Moore, M.A., Sermons, ii. pp. 155–172.

 

The Sin of Using Wrong Names.

v. 20. Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil.

What difference can it make what anything is called!

                               “What’s in a name?
A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

Yet the Bible pronounces its woe upon those who merely call things by wrong names. Why?

1. Names are not mere words: they are the representatives of ideas; and hence, they have a force of meaning which makes them powerful instruments. There are opprobrious epithets that wound more severely than a blow. Slander has slain more than the dagger. The name of a place or person suggests to us all that we know, or have conceived, about it or him. Paul, Jesus—what a power there is in these names! How suggestive are the phrases, “an upright man,” “a transparent character!” Because words are representatives of ideas, to use the wrong names is to convey false ideas. 2. The wrong use of names confounds moral distinctions, and perplexes and misleads men in regard to duty. Right must not be called wrong, or wrong right. This is to sweep away all the landmarks of duty; or, rather, it is shifting all the buoys and beacons by which we navigate the sea of life, so that instead of warning us of danger, they shall rather draw us upon shoals and rocks. The skill of every successful errorist consists in a dexterous jugglery of names. 3. By giving decent names to gross sins, the standard of public morals is lowered, and the community is corrupted. One of the things that blinded America to the evil of slavery was, the term that used to be applied to it—“our domestic institution,” &c. Be on your guard, then, against wrong names. Do not try to deceive yourself by means of them. Pure covetousness is sin, even though you do call it economy, &c. Do not try to deceive others (Matt. v. 19; Mark ix. 42).—S. G. Buckingham, American National Preacher, xxv. 269–278.

 

Self-Conceit.

v. 21. Woe unto them that are wise in their own eyes, and prudent in their own sight.

Self-conceit. I. Its signs: dogmatism; contempt of others; scepticism. II. Its causes: ignorance,[1] vanity. III. Its folly: it makes a man ridiculous; leads him into error. IV. Its offensiveness to God; in spirit—principle—action. V. Its certain humiliation.—J. Lyth, D.D.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The truest characters of ignorance
Are vanity, and pride, and arrogance;
As blind men used to bear their noses higher
Than those that have their eyes and sight entire.—Butler.

By ignorance is pride increased;
Those most assume who know the least;
Their own self-balance gives them weight,
But every other finds them light.—Gay.

 

Intellectual Pride.

v. 21. Woe unto them that are wise in their own eyes, and prudent in their own sight.

Woe to the intellectually proud. I. To the self-conceited sceptic, who sits in judgment upon the Word of God, and condemns it.[1] II. To the self-conceited enthusiast, who substitutes his own fancies for Divine truth. III. To the self-conceited Pharisee, who trusts in his own works. IV. To the self-conceited sinner, who despises instruction. V. Woe! for they shall all perish.—J. Lyth, D.D.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The denial of anything does not falsify it. If a man has swallowed poison, his adopting an opinion that it cannot kill him, contributes nothing to his safety; and it is awful to stand and see his conviction and his death arriving together. Your denying a resurrection, will not hide you for ever in the grave. Your disbelieving a day of retribution, will not keep you from appearing before God. “Their judgment,” says the apostle, “now of a long time lingereth not, and their damnation slumbereth not:” while they reason, it rolls on; every argument brings it one distance nearer.—Jay.

 

The Woe of the Drunkard.

v. 22. Woe unto them that are mighty to drink wine, and men of strength to mingle strong drink.

There are certain vices which the customs of certain countries seem to place only in the number of human infirmities; and yet, if we look at their effects, we shall see that really they are as black as those sins which God and man visits with the severest punishments. I. The drunkard’s excuses, by which he endeavours to defend or palliate his crime. 1. Good fellowship. But can friendship be founded on vice? especially on a vice which notoriously impairs the memory and the sense of obligation, leads to the betrayal of secrets, and stirs up strife and contention? Instead of promoting conversation it destroys it by destroying the very capability of communicating rational and agreeable thoughts. The drunkard may make his company merry, but they laugh at, not with, him, and merely because they are delighted with the sight of one even sillier than themselves. 2. “It drowns care.” But the drunkard’s care must arise either from his ill state of health, the unfortunate posture of his worldly affairs, or the stings of his guilty conscience; and, in either case, his temporary oblivion is purchased at the cost of an aggravation of the evils which cause him to desire it. To drink to drown remorse is especially absurd, for all that the drunkard can expect from this course is the benefit of travelling some part of the road to eternal misery with his eyes covered. 3. The drunkard has other excuses: he says that he is so exposed to company and business, that he cannot avoid drinking to excess, or that he is of so easy and flexible a temper, that he cannot resist the importunities of his friends, as he calls them. Thus he is for softening his vice into a sort of virtue, and calling that good nature, which his creditor calls villany, and his family cruelty. II. The drunkard’s woe. This is made up of the miserable effects, as well temporal as spiritual, of his favourite vice. 1. Poverty. 2. Contempt. 3. Ill-health. 4. An untimely death. Consider, too, the spiritual evils that spring from and punish the vice of drunkenness. 1. The understanding is depraved and darkened. 2. The will is enfeebled and dethroned. 3. The passions are inflamed and rendered ungovernable. 4. Regard for men and reverence for God are destroyed. Drunkenness travels with a whole train of other vices, and requires the whole width of the broad way to give it room. Where its journey is to end, we know; so that if the guilt and misery which attend it here, be not enough, there, at least, the drunkard, having opened his eyes and recovered the use of his reason, will perceive the truth of the text.—Skelton, in Clapham’s Selected Sermons, ii. 384–392.

 

The Woe of the Drunkard.

v. 22. Woe unto them that are mighty to drink wine, and men of strength to mingle strong drink.

Woe to the drunkard. I. To his reputation.[1] II. To his interests. III. To his health. IV. To his family. V. To his soul.[2]J. Lyth, D.D.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Some of you glory in your shame, that you have drunk down your companions, and carried it away,—the honour of a sponge or a tub, which can drink up or hold liquor as well as you.—Baxter, 1615–1691.

[2] We recommend wine for the excellency of it; but if it could speak, as it can take away speech, it would complain, that by our abuse both the excellencies are lost; for the excellent man doth so spoil the excellent wine, until the excellent wine hath spoiled the excellent man. Or, that a man should take pleasure in that which makes him no man; that he should let a thief in at his mouth to steal away his wit; that for a little throat-indulgence, he should kill in himself both the first Adam, his reason, and even the second Adam, his regeneration, and so commit two murders at once.—Adams, 1653.

How base a price dost thou set upon thy Saviour and salvation, that will not forbear so much as a cup of drink for them? The smallness of the thing showeth the smallness of thy love to God, and the smallness of thy regard to His Word and to thy soul. Is that loving God as God, when thou lovest a cup of drink better? Art thou not ashamed of thy hypocrisy, when thou sayest thou lovest God above all, when thou lovest Him not so well as thy wine and ale? Surely he that loveth Him not above ale, loveth Him not above all! Thy choice showeth what thou loveth best, more certainly than thy tongue doth. It is the dish that a man greedily eateth of that he loveth, and not that which he commendeth but will not meddle with. God trieth men’s love to Him, by their keeping His commandments. It was the aggravation of the first sin, that they would not deny so small a thing as the forbidden fruit, in obedience to God! And so it is of thine, that wilt not leave a forbidden cup for Him! O miserable wretch! dost thou not know thou canst not be Christ’s disciple, if thou forsake not all for Him, and hate not even thy life in comparison of Him, and wouldst not rather die than forsake Him! And art thou like to lay down thy life for Him that wilt not leave a cup of drink for Him? Canst thou burn at a stake for Him, that canst not leave an alehouse, or vain company, or excess for Him? What a sentence of condemnation dost thou pass upon thyself!—Baxter, 1615–1691.

 

Drink and Its Woes.

v. 22. Woe unto them that are mighty to drink wine, and men of strength to mingle strong drink.

Human depravity and iniquity have existed in all ages and countries. The vices flowing therefrom have been much the same—selfishness, pride, sensualism, oppression, drunkenness. Alcohol acting directly on the brain, the seat of the mind, tends not only to derange, but to enfeeble and pervert, and produces moral obliquity, moral infatuation, and intensified delusion. All sorts of deceits are the consequence. Observe—I. The characters introduced (ver. 22). Observe also verses 11 and 12. In the last verses there is reference to confirmed drunkards, daily, early, and late; the sensual debauchees—their ignorance, want of thought and reflection. In the text, notorious drinkers, bold, impudent wager-layers, boasters, &c., and those who have got the victory over the usual drinks, and now make them stronger to meet the cravings of appetite and to keep up the excitement. Observe, this is the great peril of moderate drinking. It creates the appetite, it increases the appetite; last of all, it gives the appetite the control, and the man or woman becomes the slave and the victim.

II. The infatuation portrayed—by 1. Giving false names to things (ver. 20). Call (1) evil good: drinks (poisons) are called beverages; evil things made by men are called God’s good creatures. And so they call (2) good evil; despise the really good and safe; pour contempt on water and safe fluids, and treat them as evil or worthless. How drinks have secured the most alluring titles—strong cordials, dew, &c., generous. Not only false names, but 2. False qualities (ver. 20), “Bitter for sweet.” Now intoxicating drinks are not sweet or palatable to the natural taste; they blister the mouth of children; do burn the delicate nerves of the stomach; the tongue and lips have to be trained, drilled, hardened. Observe, they call sweet bitter; things really so are treated as insipid. Ask the spirit-drinker to taste milk or tea, or water, and see how his poisoned taste revolts, &c.

Then there is presented to us—3. Infatuated results. Put darkness for light; men plead and say these drinks—(1) Brighten the intellect. How false! See the bloated faces, the diseased eyes, the sensual expression, the stupid look, the stupor. The light is artificial, momentary, false—no better than the effects of certain gases or deadly stimulants, as opium, Indian hemp, &c. But they refer to men, to Burns, Pitt, Sheridan, and other drinking wits. But they were intellectually great in spite, &c. Look at Milton, Sir Isaac Newton; look at the inspired prophets—the seraphic Isaiah, the writer of the text. (2) They who drink say their drinks lighten the heart, give social joyousness. Right; but is it not sensual, spurious, evanescent, ends in darkness? So they put light for darkness. The calm, equable sobriety of soul they called dulness, darkness. But this is real, abiding, and rational. So, both in name and quality, and in effects, they call “evil good,” &c.

III. The woes denounced. 1. There is the woe of physical consequence. The seed and the harvest, the poisons and their effects, fire, deranged stomach, plague, diseased liver, excited heart, fevered brain, all tending to a host of maladies, shortened life, and an early grave. There is—2. Woe of a distracted mind. Reason beclouded; reflection, perception, all marred. The guiding star eclipsed, the light obscured with darkness. There is the—3. Woe of moral defects. The man is vitiated, made worse and worse; his affections, his desires, his conscience, his heart, the whole soul. There is—4. The woe of perverted powers. Gifts, talents, &c., all poisoned; influence deadly; the man a curse—a curse to all. 5. The woe of God’s malediction. God’s woe, His displeasure, His threatening, His curse; this is written in both volumes of the Scriptures—in frightful representation, in declared eternal condemnation.

Application.—Learn—1. The horrors associated with strong drink; 2. The advantages of absolute temperance; 3. The value of these associations; 4. The encouragement for labours—staying curses, bringing down blessings; 5. The necessity of immediate decision; 6. The solemn importance of earnest prayer for the Divine benediction; 7. Let us avoid exaggerated conclusions. This is not the only evil; temperance not the only good. To all we say, “One thing is needful;” “Except ye be converted,” &c.—Jabez Burns, D.D., LL.D., Sketches of Temperance Sermons.

 

The Doom of Despisers.

v. 24. Therefore as the fire devoureth the stubble, and the flame consumeth the chaff, so their root shall be as rottenness, and their blossom shall go up as dust: because they have cast away the law of the Lord of hosts, and despised the word of the Holy One of Israel.

Shut God out of the heart, and this is what it comes to at last. In Jewish history, we have a commentary on the judgments announced in the text, written in fire and blood. We have here—I. God’s merciful approaches to the soul. 1. God begins with law. In the present day there is a nervous dread of law, as if it were the offspring of severity rather than of grace.[1] But law checks, rectifies, and blesses in innumerable ways (Ps. xix. 7–11; cxix. 105, &c). 2. To His law, He adds His word; His “word” of persuasion, exhortation, promise, and especially the great “word” of the Gospel. II. God’s merciful approaches rejected. “They have cast away the law,” &c. Man meets God’s law with resistance, His love with contempt. III. God’s merciful approaches giving place to indignation and wrath. “Therefore as the fire devoureth,” &c. Law being resisted, and love despised, things cannot be as they were before; one of two things must happen—there must be either pardon or punishment. If pardon be rejected, only punishment remains. The images under which this is set forth in the text are most alarming. They show—1. That at last God’s anger strikes at the root of our being—at the very substance of our life. The wrath of man at the worst rages only on the surface, but God strikes at the root (Luke xii. 4; Matt. x. 28). 2. God’s anger smites the blossom of our being. All that constitutes the show, promise, and pride of our life, is scattered like dust. 3. When God smites in anger, He smites suddenly and swiftly, “as the fire devoureth the stubble, and the flame consumeth the chaff.” 4. When God smites in anger, man can offer no resistance. What power to resist a hurricane has a tree whose roots are not only rotten, but “rottenness”? How can the stubble withstand the fire, or the chaff defend itself against tongues of flame?—J. R. Wood.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The spring of the law is love. With its “Thou shalt not do this,” and “Thou shalt not do that,” the law presents rather an ungracious aspect. We like ill to be bidden, but worse to be forbidden. But does love never forbid? A mother, does she never forbid her child; but, on the contrary, indulge every caprice and grant all his wishes? How disastrous the fate, and brief the life, of a child denied nothing, indulged in everything, allowed to play with fire, or fire-arms; to devour the painted but poisonous fruit—to bathe where the tide runs like a racehorse or the river rushes roaring into the black, swirling pool. And he who frets against the restraints of God’s holy law because it forbids this and the other thing, is no wiser than the infant who weeps, and screams, and struggles, and perhaps beats the kind bosom that nurses it, because its mother has snatched a knife from its foolish hands.—Guthrie.

 

The Doom of Impenitent Israel.

v. 24–30. Therefore as the fire devoureth, &c.

In this threatening, fulfilled in the utter destruction of Israel by Assyria, we find illustrations of the following facts.—I. That the Lord is a God of judgment as well as of mercy.[1] The mercy of God has been exemplified in His long forbearance with sinful Israel: His justice was manifested in the utter destruction that came upon Israel when it was seen that that forbearance had been shown in vain. God is still as He revealed Himself in His Word and in His actual dealings with His people. It is utterly vain for us to frame for ourselves an ideal God in whose character the sternest justice has no place. II. That we can sustain no relation to God which will render it safe for us to break His commandments, or exempt us from the consequences of wrong-doing (ver. 25. Compare ver. 5; Amos iii. 2). III. That all the forces of the universe are at God’s disposal for the execution of His purposes. Appalling is the variety of the scourges and swords that lie ready to His hand for the chastisement of the rebellious,[2] and for the destruction of the incorrigible! IV. That in addressing Himself to the work of judgment, God is moved by the highest moral considerations. “Because they have cast away the law of the Lord of hosts, and despised the word of the Holy One of Israel; therefore is the anger of the Lord kindled against His people.” In His wrath, as well as in His love, He is holy: in neither is there any caprice. V. That consequently God will not pause in His work of judgment out of any weak regard to the mere sufferings of wrong-doers. It is against sin that His anger burns, and while sin endures the fires of His wrath will continue to flame. Eternal punishment! For impenitent transgressors there is woe upon woe, and no severity of suffering that they may endure abates the anger of the Lord against them. There is no such thing as salvation by personal suffering. See how all this is expressed in our text from beginning to end.

General Conclusion.—“It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.” The history of the Jews since Israel’s day is a terrible comment on this declaration.

Particular Conclusions.—1. As sinners, let us bestir ourselves to avert the consequences of our transgressions by a timely and genuine repentance (ch. lv. 6, 7; Hosea xiv. 1–4, &c.) 2. Having obtained mercy, let us be in the fear of the Lord all the day long (John v. 14). 3. For our guidance in life, let us keep constantly before us the Biblical presentation of God, as a God of justice and mercy;—of justice, that we may be restrained from transgression; of mercy, that there may grow up in our hearts that love for Him which will cause us to find our highest joy in doing His will.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] See my Homiletic Encyclopædia of Illustrations in Theology and Morals, Nos. 2288–2301.

[2] As for example, conscience, the awakening of which Henry Smith has thus depicted:—“There is a warning conscience and a gnawing conscience. The warning comes before sin; the gnawing conscience follows after sin. The warning conscience is often lulled asleep, but the gnawing conscience wakes her again. If there be any hell in this world, they who feel the worm of conscience gnawing on their hearts may truly say that they have felt the torments of hell. Who can express that man’s horror but himself? Nay, what horrors are those which he cannot express himself! Sorrows are met in his soul as at a feast; and fear, thought, and anguish divide the soul between them. All the furies of hell leap upon his heart like a stage. Thought calls to Fear; Fear whistles to Horror; Horror beckons to Despair, and says, Come, and help me to torment this sinner. One says that she comes from this sin, and another says that she comes from that sin. So he goes through a thousand deaths, and cannot die. Irons are laid upon his body like a prisoner. All his lights are put out at once. He has no soul fit to be comforted. Thus he lives as it were upon the rack, and says that he bears the world upon his shoulders, and that no man suffers that which he suffers. So let him lie, says God, without ease, until he confess and repent and call for mercy.”

 

Cords and Cart-Ropes.

v. 18. Woe unto them that draw iniquity with cords of vanity, and sin as it were with a cart-rope.[1]

There is a certain oddity and grotesqueness in these words as they stand. It disappears as soon as we perceive that we have here an instance of Hebrew parallelism. (Compare chap. i. 18.) “Sin” is a noun, not a verb, and is a synonym for iniquity; to sin men yoke themselves as it were with “cords of vanity” or as with “a cart-rope.” “Cords of vanity” are such as have no substance in them, that will not stand any real strain; “a cart-rope” will stand an immense strain. Where, then, is the propriety of describing that by which the sinner binds himself to his sin by such opposite terms? In this, that in the first clause these bands are regarded from the point of view of a sound judgment, in the second from the point of view of the sinner’s experience. Subjected to a real examination they are seen to be of no strength at all, and yet they suffice to bind the sinner to his sin as thoroughly as if they were strong as “a cart-rope.”

What are these “cords of vanity”? They are false ideas—of God, of truth, of duty. This is plain from verse 19, which is an explanation of this one. There we have an illustrative case. Certain men are represented as bound to their iniquity by the false idea that God will not fulfil His threatenings against iniquity.

Our text furnishes the solution of a mystery which often perplexes us in daily life. We see men cleaving to ruinous iniquities, and cleaving to them in spite of the remonstrances and entreaties of their friends and of God’s servants. We who have felt “the powers of the world to come” wonder that men do not repent and believe, and so escape from “the wrath to come.” Here is the explanation: they are bound to their ungodly practices as it were with a cart-rope; and yet they are just enslaved by what, when rightly tested, are only cords of vanity. They are like a horse tied to a post by a bridle-rein: it could snap the rein in an instant, but it does not attempt to do so because it has no suspicion of the weakness of the rein. Look at some of the “cords of vanity” by which men are bound to their iniquities; the exposure of their essential weakness may excite some who are not fettered and bound to make an effort to attain to moral freedom.

I. One prevalent “cord of vanity” is unbelief in God’s threatenings against iniquity. That God has threatened to do certain terrible things to impenitent sinners is admitted, but there lurks in the sinner’s heart the idea that God is like certain foolish parents who threaten their children with punishments which they are much too good-natured ever to inflict. But whence did you derive this idea of God? Certainly not from His Word. He there distinctly forewarns us, that, though He is merciful and gracious, He will “by no means clear the guilty” (Ex. xxxiv. 7). Not from any intelligent examination of His dealings in providence. There neglect or infraction of law is invariably followed by punishment. If a whole nation were to neglect to sow its fields, would God be too good-natured to permit it to starve? But if God invariably punishes men for their infractions of His material laws, what reason can we have for hoping that He will not fulfil His threatenings against those who despise His spiritual ordinances? And why should we hope this? What reverence could we have for, what trust could we repose in, a God who did not fulfil His threatenings? How could we then trust in His promises? Surely this is a “cord of vanity!” and yet how many are bound by it as if it were “a cart-rope”!

II. Another cord is the reflection, “We are no worse than others.” Men compare themselves with others, perhaps even more iniquitous than themselves, and so arrive at the conclusion that they are not in any great danger. They do this even in temporal things,—e.g., in the matter of drainage. The authorities of a country village or town will listen with the most complete indifference to the warnings of a Government inspector, that they are inviting an outbreak of fever or cholera; and the ground of their indifference is that they know of other villages or towns as badly drained as their own. But does that afford them any protection against the dangers of which they are warned? Men act as foolishly in spiritual matters. Because there are so many sinners they close their eyes to their own dangers or sins. Will God be either unable or afraid to punish transgressors because they are so numerous? Surely this also is a “cord of vanity;” and yet thousands are bound by it to their eternal destruction!

III. “We shall be able to shake ourselves loose from our evil habits by and by.” They imagine that they can repent and reform at any time, and they are firmly resolved to do so before death. Perhaps there could not be found a single sinner who does not secretly cherish in his breast wicked Balaam’s desire, “Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his!” But this idea that men can repent and reform at any time is a delusion. As men continue in sin (1) The power to reform decays. (2) The desire to reform dies out. The love of sin takes entire possession of the man. It enwraps him as ivy unchecked will enwrap a tree; at first with no more strength than a child’s finger, in the end with the strength of a thousand giants. It is the oldest sinners who cling to their vices most desperately, who are bound by them as by cart-ropes. (3) The opportunities for reform rapidly diminish and often end unexpectedly (Prov. xxix. 1; 1 Thess. v. 3).

Inquire by what cords of vanity you are bound. Break them! (Dan. iv. 27.) Look to Jesus, who came into the world for the very purpose of setting at liberty them that are bound.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] See Notes on Cords of Vanity, pp. 121, 122.

 

The Prophet’s Call.

vi. 1–12. In the year that King Uzziah died, &c.

We have here the history of Isaiah’s call to his great life-work. Perhaps in a modern biography this chapter would have been placed first. But there was wisdom in placing it where it stands; it was well to give some insight into the real character of the men along who Isaiah was called to labour, for thus we are enabled more easily to understand the nature of the mission on which he was sent.[1] Studying this chapter as a history of the prophet’s call, I learn—

I. That a threefold spiritual preparation is needed for effective service of God.[2] It is generally admitted that some kind of preparation is needed, e.g., for the ministry of the Gospel; but it is not generally recognised that a merely professional preparation is of no avail whatever. A man may pass through the whole routine of college life, both literary and theological, and yet not be a prophet of the Lord. Such preparation is not merely not enough, it is not even essential. “Schools of the prophets” may exist without sending forth a single prophet, and God calls many prophets who have never been inside a school door. This is true of every kind and form of God’s service, e.g., the Sunday-school, the home, Christian literature. In every case a threefold spiritual preparation is necessary. Without it we may pretend to be God’s servants; but the disguise will always be imperfect, and we shall always be betraying what we really are. Even the old blind Isaacs whom we deceive will not be sure about us: we may have on Esau’s garments, but we shall never perfectly imitate Esau’s voice. What, then, is this preparation? 1. A vision of God. Before we can serve God effectively, we must to some extent see Him as He is. In all departments of human activity, knowledge of the person served is essential to perfect service. Those who have never seen an earthly king cannot serve him as those who are in daily intercourse with him; their loyalty is at the most a sentiment, not a constraining power. The biographies of God’s most eminent servants in all ages make it plain that the first and indispensable state in preparation for His service is a vision of God Himself—a revelation of His majesty and holiness (vers. 1–4). 2. What a man needs before he can effectively serve God is a vision of himself. The great hindrance of such service is self-satisfaction and self-sufficiency. But when a man really sees God as He is, he straightway sees himself as he is (ver. 5). Job’s experience (Job xlii. 5, 6) Peter’s experience (Luke v. 8). He sees himself to be utterly unfit and unable to serve God, and so attains to the second indispensable qualification for such service (Eph. iii. 8; 1 Cor. xv. 9, &c.) 3. The third thing which a man needs before he can effectively serve God is participation in God’s salvation. This is a rule that needs to be stated with wisdom. As a matter of fact, God has used the ministry of unconverted men. Such men may be guide-posts, though not guides. How much better to be a guide! How much more useful is a guide! But we cannot thus serve our generation unless we have been made a partaker of God’s salvation. By a sanctifying process,—a process involving in some cases terrible pain (vers. 6, 7),—we must have been made “separate from sinners.”

II. Those who have undergone this preparation will devote themselves unreservedly to God’s service. 1. There will spring up spontaneously within them a desire to serve God. They will not need to be pressed into this service; they will volunteer (ver. 8). 2. They will not be deterred by the difficulty or painfulness of the service to which they are called. It was a hard and distasteful service that was demanded of Isaiah—to prophesy to an unbelieving and scoffing generation (ch. v. 18, 19); to enter upon a ministry that would leave men worse than it found them (vers. 9, 10). Nor was this ministry to be brief; it was to be prolonged through many years (vers. 11, 12). Note: in sending Isaiah on such a ministry there was nothing inconsistent with the Divine righteousness or goodness. God’s truth must be proclaimed, whether men will heed or reject it; and the inevitable effect of such proclamation of the truth is to render those who reject it more stupid and wicked than they were before (2 Cor. ii. 16; John ix. 39). But, painful as it was, Isaiah did not shrink from it. Nor do any who have passed through such a preparation as his. They do not ask concerning a work or duty, “Is it easy?” “Is it pleasant?” but, “Does God call me to it?” Paul: (Acts xxi. 13).

III. There is great encouragement for those who have unreservedly devoted themselves to the service of God. 1. What God demands from them is not success, but faithfulness. He did not require Isaiah to convert his fellow-countrymen, but to prophesy to them faithfully. There his responsibility began and ended. So is it with preachers, teachers, and priests to-day. Men measure by success, but God by faithfulness. What a difference is the result, e.g., in such a case as that of Carey, who laboured for years without making one convert! or in such a case as Isaiah’s! 2. No faithful servant of God will ever labour without some success. Isaiah was not to toil altogether in vain. There was to be a wide-spread apostacy of his countrymen, but not a universal apostacy; a small remnant would still cleave to the Lord (ver. 13); and doubtless Isaiah’s ministry did much to keep them in the paths of righteousness. So is it with us; much of our seed may be wasted, but not all of it (Ps. cxxvi. 6; 1 Cor. xv. 58).

FOOTNOTES:

[1] This vision evidently contains the designation of Isaiah to his work as a prophet. It does not follow that he may not himself have put his book together in the form, or nearly in the form, in which we have received it. The early chapters as they describe the state of the people, not at one particular moment but through a course of years, announcing the punishments which must follow from that state with the blessings which could come out of them, are a living index to the subsequent prophecies and history. The place which they occupy, supposing it was assigned by Isaiah, cannot hinder us from accepting his own express words as a proof, that the year in which King Uzziah dies was the critical year of his life, that which explained to him why he was sent into the world and what task he had to perform in it.—F. D. Maurice.

[2] Once for all must he who was to be a prophet have become absolutely certain of the true relation of the world and Jehovah,—must have beheld, as in a distinct form, the sublime and holy character of Jehovah, and felt that he was directed by Him alone; once for all must he have recognised the Divine power of truth against the whole world, and himself as living and moving in it alone; once for all must he have entered, with the effectual energy and act of his whole inner being, into the counsels of God, and found himself for ever bound by them, and endowed by these bonds with true power and freedom:—this was the first condition and the true beginning of all the work of the prophet, the holy consecration and the inner call, without which none can become a true prophet.—Ewald.

 

The Trinity in Unity.

(For Trinity Sunday.)

vi. 1–3. In the year that King Uzziah died, &c.

Scene of this sublime vision, the Temple; time, “the year that King Uzziah died.” Why is this fact mentioned? Uzziah had profaned the Temple (2 Chron. xxvi. 16–21); his son and successor was Jotham, the only king of the house of Judah whose character has not one dishonouring blot; was it not appropriate that, when the disobedient king was removed, and a king had succeeded him, there should have been this glorious revelation of the King of kings—not merely as a preparation of the prophet for his mission, but as an encouragement to the monarch to persevere in his loyalty towards God and His truth?

That which was granted to the Prophet was a vision of the Triune God. Proofs: ver. 3, which shows the plurality of persons in the Divine unity; John xii. 41, where it is asserted that that which the prophet saw was the glory of Christ; Acts xxviii. 25, where it is asserted that the voice which the prophet heard was the voice of the Holy Ghost; ver. 3, the threefold repetition of “holy.” I purpose, therefore, to make some observations on this important subject of the Trinity.

I. The doctrine of the Trinity has been believed by the Church of Christ in all ages. This is at least a presumption that it is taught in Scripture, successive generations of devout men could scarcely have been mistaken on such a vital point.

II. This doctrine of the Trinity underlies the whole Bible, and is inextricably interwoven with its fabric and structure. The Old Testament testifies to the Divine unity, as contrasted with the polytheism which prevailed among heathen nations; the Gospels record the manifestation of the Incarnate Son of God; the Acts of the Apostles and the Epistles set forth the work of the Third Person in the Church. There is direct testimony to this doctrine, such as Matt. xxviii. 19, 2 Cor. xiii. 14. But just as circumstantial evidence when it is clear and complete is even more satisfactory and decisive than the very best direct testimony, still more valuable is the indirect testimony to this doctrine underlying the whole Bible; like a threefold cord, it runs through the whole book, and binds the whole of Divine revelation together.

III. The doctrine of the Trinity, while it is clearly taught in Scripture, is mysterious and inexplicable. We can no more comprehend it with the unaided human understanding than by uplifting the fingers we can touch the starry firmament.[1] This is no reason for refusing to accept it,[2] for we accept many other facts which we cannot explain (we cannot explain even the familiar fact of sight), but it is a reason for not insisting dogmatically that other men should accept our explanation of it.

As we cannot stay to consider the effect of the vision upon the mind of the prophet, I shall conclude with just three words of practical application of the doctrine itself. 1. It is bound up with our duty to God. We are bound to accept it, because He has revealed it; and accepting it, we are bound to yield to Father, Son and Holy Ghost the homage and love of our souls. 2. It is bound up with our hope of salvation. If it is not true that the Everlasting Son came forth from the bosom of the Father, and took upon Him to deliver man; and if it is not true that the Holy Spirit proceeding from the Father and the Son raises men from the death of sin to the life of righteousness, and restamps upon their souls the lost lineaments of our Maker’s image, what foundation is there left for our hope of everlasting life? 3. It is bound up with the fulness of the Gospel blessings. These are all summed upon the Apostolic benediction, 2 Cor. xiii. 14. If these be ours, we “have all and abound.”—R. W. Forrest (Christian World Pulpit, i. 492).

FOOTNOTES:

[1] See Article: The Trinity, in my Homiletic Encyclopædia of Illustrations, and section 1501 in my Dictionary of Poetical Illustrations.

[2] See above.

 

Revelations of God.

vi. 1–5. In the year that King Uzziah died I saw, &c.[1]

I. Earthly powers fade and perish, but the Eternal Power that uses them all lives on (ver. 1). Comfort here, when a great king or statesman is taken away from the head of a nation; when a great leader of an arduous reformatory movement, such as Luther, is laid low; when an eloquent preacher or wise pastor is summoned to his rest; or even when the head of a household is cut off just when his family most need his care. He who has wrought by their instrumentality can work without it (Ps. lxviii. 5, &c.) II. In God’s temples there is room only for God. “His train filled the Temple.” Ahaz could build in the courts of the Lord’s house an altar to the god of Damascus (2 Kings xvi. 10–16), but he could not worship two gods there, for the only living and true God departed when His sanctuary was thus profaned. God will have all, or none (Isa. xlii. 8). All His earthly temples must be counterparts of the one heavenly temple, where He reigns alone. In no church will God divide His empire with the State or with popular opinion: we must choose between Him and all other authorities. In no heart will He reign along with any other principle or passion (Matt. vi. 24). III. Until we reach the land where there is no temple, we cannot see God as He is.[2] To Isaiah a vision of God was granted, and yet it was but a symbolic vision. He saw a throne, and on it seated a Being of indescribable majesty; but who imagines that he saw God as He is? Does God sit on a throne, after the fashion of kings such as Uzziah, who fade and die? The vision was a condescension to the human faculties of the seer, and served its purpose, that of impressing upon him the majesty and holiness of the Most High. And he tells us more of the ministers who surround the throne than of its Occupant! Him no words can describe; of Him no absolute disclosure is now possible; He can but give us revelations—visions—administrations of Himself. And this He has done. 1. In nature. The purpose of the manifold and wondrous universe is not accomplished if we look only at the creation, and do not discern in it veils not thickly hiding, but helping to reveal the Creator (Rom. i. 19, 20).[3] 2. In Providence. The manner in which the world is governed is, to the man who studies it comprehensively, earnestly, and reverently, a revelation of the character of the Ruler. 3. In His Word. That man miserably mistakes, who studies the Bible as anything less than a many-sided disclosure of God. 4. In Christ:[4] a familiar thought this, yet how seldom do we enter into its depths! We do not worship an unknown God, yet we cannot see Him as He is until we have entered into that light which is inaccessible and which no mortal can approach unto, until we have been ourselves transformed into “children of light,” and so rendered capable of looking on “the Father of lights.” IV. Those to whom He reveals Himself most fully are most humble, and those whom He most exalts are most ready to serve. We have both these truths illustrated in the seraphim and in Isaiah.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The scene of the Vision is the Temple, and its features will have the same whether we suppose them to have risen before Isaiah’s imagination while he was absent from the spot, in the solitude of his chamber or his house-top, or assume (as I myself prefer to do), that he was actually praying in the Temple at the time.

Though it is unlikely that any of the successors to what was but a small remnant of Solomon’s kingdom perfectly restored the Temple after it was deprived of its original splendour by Shishak in the reign of Rehoboam, yet we see the worthier princes from time to time repairing the structure when it had been suffered to fall into decay, and replacing, as far as they could, the treasures and the costly decorations of which it was repeatedly despoiled to buy off foreign invaders; and probably there was no period in which the restoration would be more complete than in the reign of Uzziah, who in his power, wealth, and magnificence, came nearer than any other to Solomon. As there will be much more of fact than of fancy in the picture, if, for the clearer understanding of the scene of the vision, we figure to ourselves the youthful prophet in his rough hair or woollen garment (probably not unlike that of the Capuchin friar as we now see him in the streets or churches of Rome), going up to the Temple to worship;—and if we look with him at the Temple as, at the end of 300 years from its building, it must have presented itself to his eyes, with its ample courts, and colonnades, and porch, and its holy house, and holy of holies, well-proportioned, and of the most elaborate workmanship, though rather massive than large according to our notions. As he crossed the variegated pavement of “the great court of the congregation,” and stopped—for we have no reason to suppose him a Levite—at the entrance to the inner, or “priests’ ” court, on each hand would rise one of the tall pillars which Solomon set up in token that the kingdom was constituted by Jehovah, and would be upheld by His might (1 Kings vii. 21; 2 Chron. iii. 17), and which, once of “bright brass,” but now mellowed into bronze, had their square capitals richly wreathed with molten lilies, chain-work, and pomegranates; before him, resting on the back of the twelve oxen, and cast like them in brass, would appear the “molten sea,” a basin of thirty cubits in circumference, and containing two or three thousand baths of water, its brim wrought “like the brim of a cup with flowers of lilies,” and under these a double row of ornamental knobs; while on each side stood five smaller lavers, the bases of which rested on wheels, and were most elaborately ornamented with oxen, lions, cherubims, and palm-trees engraved upon them; and beyond these again he would see the great brazen altar of burnt-offering, with its never-extinguished fire; and overhead the roof of thick cedar beams resting on rows of columns. These were the courts of the palace of the Divine King of Israel, for the reception of His subjects and His ministers. [Compare the description of Solomon’s own house, which besides its inner porch had another where he sat to judge the people, 1 Kings vii. 7. The arrangement of the Temple is plainly that of a palace.] The house itself again consisted of two parts, the outer of which, the holy place, was accessible to those priests who were in immediate attendance on their unseen Sovereign, while the inner, or holiest place, was the very presence-chamber of the Monarch who dwelt “between the cherubims,” which spread their golden wings over the ark containing the covenant He had vouchsafed to enter into with His people, and itself forming a “mercy-seat,” where was “the place of His throne and the place of the sole of His feet.” In the position which I have, following the requirements of the narrative in the chapter before us, supposed Isaiah to be placed, he would see through the open folding-doors of cypress, carved “with cherubims, and palm-trees, and open flowers,” and “carved with gold and upon the carved work,” into the holy place, which he could not enter; and the light of the golden lamps on either side would show him the cedar panelling of the walls, carved with knobs and open flowers, with cherubims and palm-trees, festooned with chain-work, and richly gilt; the mosaics of precious stone; the cypress floor; the altar of incense; the table with the shew-bread; the censers, tongs, and other furniture of “pure and perfect gold;” and before the doorway to the further end, and not concealed by the open leaves of the olive-wood doors (carved and gilded like the others), would be distinguishable the folds of the vail “of blue, and purple, and crimson, and fine linen,” embroidered with cherubims. In the East the closed vail, or purdah, declares the presence and secures the privacy of the monarch, into which no man may intrude and live; and in the Temple at Jerusalem it was the symbol of the awful presence and unapproachable majesty of the King Jehovah, Lord of hosts. . . . Perhaps on this occasion, or certainly on many others, Isaiah had been joining in the public daily sacrifice and worship, and had afterwards brought his own free-will offering—a bullock or a lamb without blemish. Such an offering, the symbol of his dedication of himself to Jehovah’s service, would be the natural expression of his earnest desire for some token that at last it was permitted him to enter on the actual functions of the prophetic office for which he had been so long preparing; and that this vision was the answer to such beautiful prayerful desire—itself an inspiration from on high—we may well believe.—Strachey.

Some of you may have been watching a near and beautiful landscape in the land of mountains and eternal snows, till you have been exhausted by its very richness, and till the distant hills which bounded it have seemed, you knew not why, to limit and contract the view,—and then a veil has been withdrawn, and new hills not looking as if they belonged to this earth, yet given another character to all that does belong to it, have unfolded themselves before you. This is an imperfect, very imperfect, likeness (yet it is one), of that revelation which must have been made to the inner eye of the prophet when he saw another throne than the throne of the house of David, another king than Uzziah or Jotham, another train than that of priests or minstrels in the Temple, other winged forms than those golden ones which overshadowed the mercy-seat. Each object was the counterpart of one that was then or had been at some time before his bodily eyes. . . . The symbols and service of the Temple were not, as priests and people often thought, an earthly machinery for scaling a distant heaven; they were witnesses of a Heaven nigh at hand, of a God dwelling in the midst of His people, of His being surrounded by spirits which do His pleasure, hearkening to the voice of His words.—F. D. Maurice.

[2] See my Dictionary of Poetical Illustrations, No. 1501; and my Homiletic Encyclopædia of Illustrations, Nos. 2229–2240.

[3] P. D., 1489, 1493, 1496, 1502, 1504–1506, 1508, 1509, 1511, 1514, 1519, 1526, 2545, 2552, 2563; H. E. I., 2242.

[4] H. E. I., 854–857, 2241, 2243.

 

Isaiah’s Vision.

vi. 1–7. In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw also the Lord, &c.[1]

Behold, in these temple scenes, both what the Lord your God is, and what He requires from you.

I. The first of these temple scenes presents to our view the majesty of God: “I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high, and lifted up.” One of the first and most important truths for us to learn is the absolute rule of God—over nature, man, the principalities of heaven. He sitteth upon His throne: this is the attitude, 1. Of supremacy and dignity; He sitteth while all other beings stand before Him to receive His commands, bow in adoration, or are prostrate in abasement. 2. It is the attitude of ease and perfect security.[2] But, above all, mark the place of His throne as displayed in this wonderful vision. It stands in the temple; it has been sprinkled with the blood of propitiation; it is now the mercy-seat. To the truly penitent all its terror appears softened with grace.

II. The second of these temple scenes displays to us the ineffable and incomprehensible nature of God. Let not man suppose that he can by searching find out God, or know the Almighty unto perfection. This is scenically, but most impressively, represented to us in the vision before us: “His train”—the skirts of the shekinah—“filled the temple,” its fainter rays beaming from the central blaze in the holiest of all, and irradiating the more distant objects. But even that was too much for man, and it is therefore added, “And the house was filled with smoke;” a veil was thus drawn over what was too bright and dazzling for mortal vision; and though God dwelt in the light, yet it was light involving itself in thick darkness (Ps. xcvii. 2; Ex. xvi. 10). Revelation has not superseded mystery (Job xxvi. 14). As to His dispensations, we are all still to walk by faith rather than by sight; and as to the depths of His nature, rather to adore than reason. An infinite being is necessarily incomprehensible by finite beings;[3] He must be mysterious. If we could fully know God, we must either be equal to Him, or He must lose the glory of His nature and come down to ourselves (1 Cor. xiii. 9; Rom. xi. 33).

III. The third view presented by this vision is that of the adorable and awful holiness of God (ver. 3). This is seen in His titles (Ps. lxxi. 22; Deut. xxxii. 4); in His acts; in His law; in His visible image on earth, His Son incarnate; in His Gospel; in His judgments; in the reward of the righteous.

IV. In the next scene which the vision presents we behold a sinful man convicted and laid prostrate before this holy God (ver. 5).

V. In the final scene we behold a convicted, self-abased, and penitent man pardoned and consecrated to the service of God (ver. 6, 7). What are we taught by this wondrous representation? That for guilty men there is pardon, that for unholy men there is purification, and that lips once unclean, but not sanctified, may join in the hymns of seraphim, and, without dread, approach to God, and celebrate the glories even of His holiness. This we are taught, but not this only; not merely is the fact, but the manner of it, brought before us. See, then, the means. The instrument of purification is fire; but not any kind of fire, fire from any place; it is fire from the altar, the altar where atonement is made for sin; fire, therefore, both of Divine origin, and coming to us through the great Propitiation. We can be at no loss for an interpretation of the symbols thus employed. Our altar is the cross; the propitiatory sacrifice, the spotless Lamb of God; by the merit of His death, and the baptizing fire of His Spirit, and the guilty and polluted pardoned and sanctified to God.—Richard Watson: Works, vol. iv. pp. 143–153.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] God is invisible; yet in that heavenly world in which He has His special and eternal residence He manifests himself in ineffable glory, dwelling in what the Scriptures call “the light which no man can approach unto.” Of that heavenly world, the tabernacle and temple were splendid emblems; they were “patterns of heavenly things.” But why the astonishing fact, that when sinful creatures created a tent in the wilderness, and a temple subsequently at Jerusalem, the visible glory of God descended, taking possession of the place? God thus came down from heaven to earth, with all these impressive circumstances of visible majesty, to teach His creatures that He was awfully glorious, and fearful even in His praises; that even in His acts of grace His holiness is solemnly declared; and thus to show with what reverence and purity man ought to approach to Him. So when Isaiah was to be appointed to an office in which he was to fear God, and not the face of man, and which, to give it weight and authority, required an entire sanctity, a scene similar to that which had been displayed in the temple at its consecration, but greatly heightened and magnified, was disclosed to him in vision. The space of this visionary temple appears to have been far more ample than that of the one at Jerusalem; the throne was greatly elevated, it was “high, and lifted up;” the “train,” the “skirts” (as in the margin) of the cloud of the Divine presence filled the whole place; instead of the carved representations of the cherubim of glory fixed on the mercy-seat, the prophet beholds the cherubim themselves, living, and all ardour, activity, and adoration; they are not represented in the vision as the cherubim in the holiest of all, silently gazing on the glory of God and the mysteries of His covenant, but as hymning His praises, proclaiming His spotless purity, and declaring “the whole earth to be full of His glory.” The prophet, beholding the wondrous scene, sinks oppressed and self-abhorred, until a coal from the altar touches his lips, and he is thus sanctified to the service of God, and put among His ministers.—Watson.

[2] No rebellions shake the throne of God; though “the heathen rage and the people imagine a vain thing,” yet “he that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh; the Lord shall have them in derision.” The throne of God is a rock in the midst of the ever-rolling ocean of created existence, that heaves and swells with ceaseless change; but, in comparison of Him, its mightiest billows have but their moment of existence, and sink into the mass at the base of the immovable throne of the Everlasting One.—Watson.

[3] An observer on a mountain-cliff may be able to survey the whole circumference of a lake that lies beneath him, but no man can see the whole of the ocean, simply because it is the ocean, and not a lake.—Watson.

 

The Seraphim.

vi. 2. Above it stood the seraphim:[1] each had six wings, &c.

I. “With twain he covered his face.”[2] They bow with prostrate awe, veiling themselves in the presence of the Divine glory, as though feeling the force of those strong words, “He chargeth His angels with folly, and the heavens are not clean in His sight.” If the angels tremble when they gaze, what should man feel? II. “With twain he covered his feet.”[3] Among Orientals this expresses reverence. Well may you bow in reverence before Him! The sense of pardon will humble you, even while it fills you with holy exaltation. III. “With twain he did fly”—in readiness to execute His commands.—Richard Watson: Works, vol. ix. pp. 150–153.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] As those that are nearest of a king’s attendants stand behind his throne or chair of state, at his elbow.—Day.

This is the only passage of Scripture in which the seraphim are mentioned. According to the orthodox view, which originated with Dionysius the Areopagite, they stand at the head of the nine choirs of angels, the first rank consisting of seraphim, cherubim, and throni. And this is not without support, if we compare the cherubim mentioned in Ezekiel, which carried the chariot of the divine throne; whereas here the seraphim are said to surround the seat on which the Lord worshipped. In any case, the seraphim and cherubim were heavenly beings of different kinds; and there is no weight in the attempts of Hendewerk and Stickel to prove that they are one and the same. And certainly the name seraphim does not signify merely spirits as such, but even, if not the highest of all, yet a distinct order from the rest; for the Scriptures really teach that there are gradations in rank in the hierarchy of heaven. Nor were they mere symbols or fanciful images, as Hävernick imagines, but real spiritual beings who visibly appeared to the prophet, and that in a form corresponding to their own supersensuous being, and to the design of the whole transaction. Whilst the seraphim hovered on both sides of Him that sat upon the throne, and therefore formed two opposite choirs, each ranged in a semicircle, they presented antiphonal worship to Him that sat upon the throne.—Delitzsch.

The cherubim in the temple represented no doubt spiritual powers and presence in the most general sense, those who look upon God and reflect His light. If we distinguish between them and the cherubim, as we do in our “Te Deum,” these last would seem more especially to represent those divine energies and affections of which the zeal, devotion, and sympathy of man are counterparts.—F. D. Maurice.

The name cannot possibly be connected with sârâph, a snake (Sanscrit, sarpa, Latin, Serpens); and to trace the word to a verb sâraph in the sense of the Arabic ‘sarafa (‘sarufa), to tower high, to be exalted, or highly honoured (as Gesenius, Hengetenberg, and others have done), yields a sense that does not very strongly commend itself. On the other hand, to follow Knobel, who reads shârâthim, worshippers of God), and thus presents the Lexicon with a new word, and to pronounce the word seraphim a copyist’s error, would be a rash concession to the heaven-storming omnipotence which is supposed to reside in the ink of a German scholar. It is hardly admissible, however, to interpret the name as signifying directly spirits of light or fire, since the true meaning of sâraph is not urere (to burn), but comburere (to set on fire or burn up). Umbreig endeavours to do justice to this transitive meaning by adopting the explanation “fiery beings,” by which all earthly corruption is opposed and destroyed. The vision itself, however, appears to point to a much more distinctive and special meaning in the name, which only occurs in this passage of Isaiah. . . . If the fact that a seraph absolved the seer by means of this fire of love (vers. 6, 7) is to be taken as an illustrative example of the historical calling of the seraphim, they were the vehicles and media of the fire of divine love, just as the cherubim in Ezekiel were the vehicles and media of the fire of divine wrath. For just as in the case before us, a seraph takes the fire of love from the altar; so there, in Ezek. x. 6, 7, a cherub takes the fire of wrath from the throne-chariot. Consequently the cherubim appear as the vehicles and media of the wrath which destroys sinners, or rather the divine doxa, with its fiery side turned towards the world; and the seraphim as the vehicles and media of the love which destroys sin, or of the same divine doxa with its light side towards the world. . . . “Seraphic love” is the expression used in the language of the Church to denote the ne plus ultra of holy love in the creature.—Delitzsch.

[2] Thus expressing his profound reverence and becoming modesty in the Divine presence. We can hardly approach those who are greatly our superiors but with downcast eyes, intimating the consciousness we feel of their pre-eminence, and our profound respect for the excellency and dignity. We cannot look at the sun shining with meridian splendour, but we are obliged to cover our eyes with our hands. Such is the infinite glory of the eternal Jehovah, that celestial spirits around His throne appeared to our prophet covering their faces with their wings. Light inaccessible and full of glory, in which God resides, was too strong for them directly to contemplate.—Macculloch.

[3] In Scripture language the feet sometimes denote all the lower parts of the body which decency requires to be concealed. In eastern countries these were generally covered by the long garments which they were accustomed to wear: hence it may have been thought want of respect to appear in public, on solemn occasions, with the feet uncovered.—Macculloch.

In a similar description of the cherubim in Ezek. i. 11, it is said that they covered their bodies. In Isaiah the expression clearly denotes, not the feet only, but the lower extremities.—Barnes.

How little do we know of beings whose forms from their faces to their feet are ‘covered!’—B. W. Newton.

 

A Glorious Example.

vi. 2. Above it stood the seraphim, &c.

The seraphim afford us a model for imitation. Our Lord has animated us in our Christian course by promising that, if we are faithful, we shall be made like the angels in heaven; but if we would hereafter resemble them in glory, we must first resemble them here in temper. Let us, therefore, prepare in time to join the concert of these holy intelligences. I. They burn with love to God. The honourable name they bear is derived from a word signifying to burn, and denotes the fervour of that zeal for the interests of their Lord by which they are animated. II. Notwithstanding their vast endowments, they bend with reverence and humility before the throne of the Lord. III. They fly with rapidity to execute His commands.Henry Kollock, D.D.: Sermons, pp. 585, 586.

 

The Seraphim and Their Song.

vi. 2–4. And above it stood the seraphim, &c.

I. The Seraphim.—The Scriptures disclose to us the fact that there is a spiritual world, vast and variously populated, superior to this world, yet connected with it and exerting upon it powerful influences. Little beyond the fact is made known to us; few details are granted us; yet glimpses into it have been vouchsafed, and among the most interesting and instructive of them is our text.

Only here do we read of seraphim: elsewhere we read of cherubim (Gen. iii. 24; Ezek. x. 1–22, &c.); and of living ones (Rev. iv. 6–8). From the fact that these “living ones” in some respects resemble both the “seraphim” of Isaiah and the “cherubim” of Ezekiel, some eminent scholars believe these are three names for one order of beings. Others, with whom we are disposed to sympathise, believe that the two names “cherubim” and “seraphim” really indicate two orders of spiritual intelligences, resembling each other, yet distinct. Whether the “living ones” of the Apocalypse are cherubim, or seraphim, or a third order of exalted ministers of the Most High, is a question concerning which we cannot speak confidently.

Scholars are divided as to the significance of the name “seraphim:” some derive the word from a root signifying to burn, others from a root signifying to be exalted.

But there can be no question that the descriptions of the “seraphim,” the “cherubim,” and the “living ones” are symbolical; the terms employed are figures adapted to convey to our minds true descriptions of beings of whom a literal description would now be unintelligible by us.[1] “Wings” are symbols of swiftness:[2] here the symbol is triplicated to indicate the exceeded swiftness—the immense energy—of these messengers of God (Ps. civ. 4). “With twain he covered his face,” in token of humility. “With twain he covered his feet,” in token of reverence. “With twain he did fly,” in token of readiness to do God’s will—three points in which we should strive evermore to resemble these exalted intelligences.

To them is granted an immediate vision of God, and the effect upon them is expressed by their song: “Holy,” &c.

II. Consider next this Song of the Seraphim. 1. They acknowledge God as “the Lord of hosts.”[3] This term in its first use in human language referred to the sun, moon, and stars (Gen. ii. 1; Neh. ix. 6, &c.). Thus considered, how wonderful are the conceptions which are opened out to us of the Divine power and glory! (Isa. xi. 2–6). But it includes also those thousands of thousands of exalted intelligences who hearken to His word and do His pleasure. “A great King” is the Lord our God! 2. They teach us that the glory of God is co-extensive with His works. All that Isaiah saw was that God’s glory filled the temple: what they saw was that His glory filled the earth. “The whole earth,” &c. 1. This declaration is true, if we think of Him as the God of nature. Everything that He has made is “good.” Even a snowflake shows forth His glory. Science is a servant of God, and is teaching us to understand somewhat of the wondrousness and beneficence of His works. 2. It is true if we think of Him as the God of providence. Human history, comprehensively and thoughtfully considered, shows that, while men are free, they are yet under the control of One who rules over all in the interests of righteousness and truth (Ps. lxxvi. 10; Isa. x. 5–7, &c.). To angelic intelligences how profoundly interesting must be the problems which God is working out in the government of this world! (Rev. xv. 3). 3. It is true even if we think of Him as the God of redemption. Possibly (though perhaps not probably) this earth is the only sphere in which His glory in this respect is manifested. But here it is manifested in the mission and work of His Son (Eph. iii. 10). Even where the Gospel has not yet been proclaimed there are senses in which His glory as the God of redemption is manifested: even there, for Christ’s sake, He is patient with sinners, He strives with them by His Spirit, He is preparing them for the future triumphs of the Cross. The history of our race, when it shall be seen as a whole, will all redound to His glory as the God of redemption.[4] 3. In the holiness of God the seraphim find the supreme subject for adoration and song: Holy, &c. Other attributes of the Most High are the themes of their thought and worship, but it is His holiness that excites their most rapturous praise. Why? 1. They have never needed His mercy; it is reserved for us to sing the sweet song of redeeming grace. On account of our redemption they rejoice (Luke xv. 10), but doubtless they rejoice in it most because the mercy shown us is a holy mercy; it was so shown as to solve some of the profoundest moral problems, and so as to leave untouched the principle of righteousness on which God’s throne eternally abides (Rom. iii. 26). Not having needed that mercy themselves, it is natural that they should rather magnify the holiness which had been shown in it and which is the need of all. 2. It is the holiness of God that gives value to all His other attributes. They are valuable only because they are directed by unswerving holiness. The holiness of God is the foundation of the peace, and joy, and the love of the moral universe. Were God not holy, even hell itself would be a more awful abode; for then to all its other woes would be added the possibility of suffering inflicted in mere vindictiveness. We also are called to join in the song of the seraphim (Ps. xxx. 4, xcvii. 12): let us beseech Him so to sanctify us by His Spirit, that in our lips the song may not be a sacrilege!

III. The Effects of the Song. 1. “The posts of the door moved at the voice of him that cried.”[5] A symbol this of the constant effects of the proclamation of truth. At every new announcement of it earthly things that seem most solid shake, and many of them totter and fall and disappear (2 Cor. x. 4; Heb. xii. 26–28). 2. And the house was filled with smoke. In response to the worship of the seraphim the temple became so completely filled with the Divine glory that the radiance overpowered the prophet’s vision. What he calls “smoke” was excess of light (1 Kings viii. 10–12; Rev. xv. 8).[6] So would it be with us were our craving for a fuller manifestation of God in His works and word granted. We have as much light now as we can bear. A fuller revelation would only dazzle, confuse, and blind us. The time is to come when we shall see God “as He is,” but this will then be possible, because “we shall be like Him;” and that time is not yet!

FOOTNOTES:

[1] “Above the throne stood the seraphim. Each one had six wings. With twain he covered his face, and with twain he covered his feet, and with twain he did fly.” The sense of awe increasing with the clearness and purity of a spirit and with the nearness of its approach to God; the face being veiled which receives the light for Him, and most covets to behold Him; the absence of all which to display their own perfection in spirits who are perfect; the freedom and willingness to go anywhere, to do any errands of mercy; these are some of the more obvious thoughts which the study of this vision suggests. There are others which lie hidden, which we may have a glimpse of from time to time, and which words might mar. For it is true of earthly symbols, still more of heavenly visions, that they are meant to carry us out of words and above words.—F. D. Maurice.

[2] Among the ancients, Mercury, the messenger of Jupiter, was always represented with wings.—Barnes.

[3] This title of Jehovah, with some variations, is found upwards of 160 times in the Old Testament. The meaning of the word hosts is doubtless the same as that of army in Dan. iv. 35, and includes all the myriads of holy angels who people the celestial spheres, as in 1 Kings xxii. 19 the host of heaven were seen by Micaiah standing round the throne of God. So in Ps. ciii. 21, cxlviii. 2, the hosts of God are His angels. (Comp. Deut. xxxiii. 2.) By a light metonymy, or may be in a slightly different sense, the host of heaven designates the heavenly spheres themselves (Gen. ii. 1; Deut. iv. 19, xvii. 3; Isa. xxxiv. 4, &c.). It is probably with reference to the idolatrous worship of the host of heaven that the title of the Lord of hosts was given to the true God, as asserting His universal supremacy. (See Neh. ix. 6.) In the New Testament, the phrase occurs only once, James v. 4, the Lord of Sabaoth. In Rom. ix. 29, it is a quotation from Isaiah.—Professor Rawlinson.

[4] Sin has already served, as all things must, to bring into view more clearly the glory of God, for had there been no sin there could have been no mercy; and in its punishment, its overthrow, and its extirpation, His glory will be yet more signally displayed. Hercules could never have been deified, if there had been no monsters to overcome. True is the seraph’s song even now, but it shall be more manifestly and gloriously true in that day, so surely and swiftly drawing nigh, when Christ shall have subdued all enemies unto Him, and God shall be All in all.—R. A. B.

The vision reaches its highest point in the cry, Holy, holy, holy! It is the holiness of God which the seraphim proclaim, that which cannot be represented to the eye, that of which descriptions and symbols furnish no image. It is that holiness which fills not the heaven of heavens only but the whole earth, seeing that was made very good, seeing that in its order and constitution it was still perfectly good, though man defiled it by their deeds, though the habitations of cruelty were set upon the midst of it.—F. D. Maurice.

[5] The voice of the seraphim at this time was so loud and melodious, and the power of their heavenly music was so great, when extolling the holiness and glory of Jehovah that the posts, with the lintel of the door of the temple, seemed to tremble, to be shaken in the place where they stood, or loosed from their place. This was a very surprising effect (though seen only in vision); for these posts were so large and strong, that they supported gates of brass which are said to have required twenty men to shut them, on account of their ponderous weight.—Macculloch.

[6] Delitzsch thus gives the usual interpretation of this clause: The house was filled with smoke. Many compare this with the similar occurrence in connection with the dedication of Solomon’s temple (1 Kings viii. 10); but Drechsler is correct in stating that the two cases are not parallel, for there God simply attested His own presence by the cloud of smoke behind which He concealed Himself, whereas here there was no need of any such self-attestation. Moreover, in this instance God does not dwell in the cloud and thick darkness, whilst the smoke is represented as the effect of the songs of praise in which the seraphim have joined, and not of the presence of God. The smoke arose from the altar of incense mentioned in verse 6. But when Drechsler says that it was the prayers of saints (as in Rev. v. 8, viii. 3, 4), which ascended to the Lord, in the smoke, there is a thought which is quite out of place here. The smoke was the immediate consequence of the seraph’s song of praise.

 

A Sight of God and a Sense of Sin.

vi. 5–7. Then said I, &c.

Visions of the throne of God were given to Isaiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel among the prophets, and to John among the Apostles.[1] I. The distinguished privilege. “I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up, and His train filled the temple.” “Mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts.” The invisible and unapproachable God revealed Himself to the bewildered seer through the glory of the afterwards incarnate Christ (John xii. 41). May we behold God? Certainly we may. 1. In His Son Jesus Christ (Heb. i. 3; 2 Cor. iv. 4; Col. i. 15; John xiv. 8, 9). 2. In His works and Word. The works are the embodied words of God. In the Scriptures we may see the mind, the heart, the purposes, the character of God. 3. In His sanctuary. In the act of worship, while in the temple, Isaiah beheld the glory of the Lord (Ps. lxiii. 1, 2, lxviii. 24). II. The profound abasement. It is true that “before honour is humility.” The converse is also true. Isaiah’s humility was the effect of overwhelming honour. A sight of God brought self-revelation; depravity was revealed by the dazzling whiteness of Divine purity. 1. There was consternation. “Woe is me; for I am undone.” 2. There was self-loathing. “I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips.” The vision of God results in a vivid and painful sense of sin (Job xlii. 5, 6; Luke v. 8). III. The Divine cleansing. Absolution is connected with confession (1 John i. 9). 1. The cleansing was efficacious. 2. The purification was by means of sacrifice. 3. The removal of defilement was immediate. A man so prepared is made ready for any ministry of testimony, toil, or tribulation.—Matthew Braithwaite.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] We should naturally expect that a vision vouchsafed to an Apostle of Christ, at the end of the first century of the Christian era, would be larger in scope, brighter in glory, less enigmatical in structure, in significance, than those which were attached to the ministrations of prophets. This expectation is not disappointed. We find the visions of the throne of God which prophets saw revived and incorporated in the Apostle’s vision, and we find the Christian seer enlightened with a more distinct understanding of the heavenly symbols. Isaiah saw the throne of God in the temple, surrounded by seraphim, “crying one to another, Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of hosts.” Ezekiel, sitting by the river of Chebar, saw the throne of God, as a chariot of war coming out of a whirlwind and going forth over the earth, attended by mighty ministers of judgment, carrying the Son of Man to victory. Daniel beheld the great session of justice; the gathered myriads before the awful purity of the Divine Judge; the consuming laws executed by the faithful servants. But the Christian Apostle, looking through the door of heaven, beheld all these ancient visions, which had come down through eight centuries of time, blended into one. He saw Isaiah’s seraphim, but they had the appearance of Ezekiel’s living creatures, with fourfold countenances; their wings were still visible, and their voices still responded, “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty!” He saw the thrones round about the Throne, as Daniel saw them, but he was able to count them; they were four and twenty; and upon the seats he “saw four and twenty elders sitting, clothed in white raiment, and they had on their heads crowns of gold.” The stream of fire, which the prophet saw proceeding from under the throne was now “a sea of glass like unto crystal.” He that sat on the throne, who appeared to Ezekiel as though He were clothed with fiery amber, was “to look upon like a jasper and sardine stone;” and the rainbow was still there, “round about the throne, in sight like unto an emerald.” “Lightnings, thunderings, and voices” proceeded out of the throne, as before fire flamed out and devoured. “The seven spirits of God,” like “burning lamps of fire,” stand in the presence of the Holy One. And the Apostle witnesses the sublime service of heaven, the living creatures “giving glory and honour and thanks to Him that sat on the throne;” and, in response to their worship, “the four and twenty elders falling down before Him and worshipping Him,” and singing their united praises, “Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour and power; for Thou hast created all things, and for Thy pleasure they are and were created!”—R. A. Redford.

 

Volunteer Service.

vi. 8. Then said I, Here am I, send me.

This is a chapter of autobiography. Here is disclosed the secret of the wonderful energy with which for more than half a century Isaiah prosecuted his ministry. He is the Paul of the Old Testament. Allowance being made for difference of phraseology, there is a striking resemblance between the call of Isaiah and of Paul (comp. chap. vi. with Acts ix.). Both sought to serve the heavenly King; and both received a commission to work, spiritual and catholic beyond all conceptions of their time,—the one penning the Gospel of the suffering Messiah, the other vindicating the truth that the Gospel is God’s message to the world. The text reminds us—

I. Of the Christian’s offer of service. The offer of service which the prophet made was—1. Free. He spoke spontaneously, and not as the result of pressure from without.[1] 2. Truthful. Unlike one of the sons in the parable (Matt. xxi. 30), he meant what he said. 3. Bold. It was made concerning an unknown mission. The justification of the boldness of his offer is, that it was made to God, who always qualifies His servants for the tasks to which He calls them. 4. Personal. The prophet placed at God’s disposal, not some of his property merely, but himself. 5. It involved the most complete self-surrender. All thought of self control the prophet resigned. He placed himself as an instrument in God’s hands. He was ready go to where, when, and on what errand God might determine.[2] Such are the offers of service in which God delights.

II. Of the steps that lead up to this offer. The offer may take men by surprise, but there has always been preparation for it, as there has been long preparation for the lightning that leaps suddenly from the sky. Such offers as the prophet made are preceded—1. By a vision of God, of the thrice Holy One, filling the soul with awe, and causing it to tremble (vers. 1–4). 2. By self-prostration of spirit, a conviction of utter sinfulness (ver. 5). This is the invariable result of a true vision of God (Exod. iii. 2; Josh. v. 14; Judg. vi. 22, xii. 22; Luke v. 8; Rev. i. 17). This is also a prime condition of fitness for service. 3. By the touch of a mediator (vers. 6, 7). “They that be struck down by visions of God’s glory shall soon be raised up again by visits of His grace.” Blessed is the man who has both visions. A sense of pardon is essential to large usefulness. Imperfect realisation of forgiveness is one of the most frequent causes of weakness in Christian service. 4. By a moral transformation. The offerer has become a new man from the centre outwards. Now he can hear God’s voice: “I heard,” &c. It is a voice to which now he feels he must respond: “Here am I,” &c. In some degree every Christian is thus prepared. These essentials of service are also essentials of Christian life. These experiences are at once your credentials and your powers.

III. That God always accepts offers of service for which there has been this preparation, and that bear these marks. He never rejects true volunteers. Offers hastily made and half-meant He passes by (Josh. xxiv. 18, 19; John ii. 23–25); but genuine, whole-hearted offers of service, He invariably accepts.

In conclusion, let us lay up in our memories three facts in connection with service. 1. True service is not incompatible with failure. We are too apt to connect failure with incompetency in the servant. Many do fail through incompetency, but not all. The prophet divinely called and most royally endowed may fail, because of the moral obduracy and perverseness of those to whom he is sent (vers. 9, 10). 2. True service is not incompatible with sorrow (vers. 11, 12). That man is inhuman who without profound grief can behold the perversity of sinners, and the calamities with which in consequence they are visited. 3. True service will never be left without reward. Multitudes may reject the prophet’s message, yet there will be “a tenth” who will accept it and be saved.—J. R. Wood.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] H. E. I., 3633–3639.

[2] H. E. I., 3618–3626.

 

Messengers Wanted.

vi. 8. Also, I heard the voice of the Lord, &c.

I. God wants messengers unto sinful men. Tidings concerning sin and salvation, mercy and deliverance, God’s grace and man’s misery, must be published. Might send seraphim and the angel host. God elects to send men to their fellow-men. “Whom shall I send?” is not the inquiry of a Divine perplexity, but the stimulative question of one who calls for willing workers. II. God especially qualifies His messengers. How does He in an especial manner fit men for His highest service? 1. By an awe-inspiring sight of Himself. 2. By distressing convictions of personal sin. 3. By sanctifying all the faculties to His use. III. God’s call should meet with a ready response. He desires volunteers, “Who will go for us?” The constraint of love is the omnipotent motive force. 1. The call is heard individually. “I heard the voice of the Lord.” 2. The call provokes self-surrender. “Here am I.” 3. The call demands entire self-abandonment. “Send me”—anywhere, on any errands, at any time, in any capacity. IV. How may we ascertain that we are required to become messengers of the living God? 1. By the separating voice of God. 2. By the discipline of preparation. 3. By the openings of beckoning opportunities. The “joy of the Lord” will be our strength when most we feel the pressure of “the burden of the Lord.”—Matthew Braithwaithe.

 

A Strange and Sad Errand.

vi. 9, 10. And He said, Go, and tell this people, &c.

A sad and mysterious errand, the statement of which might well have quenched the enthusiasm inspired by his vision of the Divine glory. When he exclaimed, “Here am I, send me!” how little did he anticipate for what purpose he would be sent! It must have astounded and saddened him, and it is full of astonishment and mystery for us. How could God have sent His servant on an errand such as this?

Much of the mystery will be relieved, though not altogether removed, if we recognise—what I believe to be the fact—that here we have a statement, not of the messages Isaiah was to deliver (for they were many, and were revealed to him at various times), but of what would be the result of them all. Those to whom he was sent, and whom he desired to bless, would not be made better, but worse, by his ministry.

This is in accordance with a well-known and terrible fact, viz., that the proclamation of truth often leads men to cleave more desperately to error.[1] Why, then, does God send His servants to proclaim it?

Not because He desires the depravity and destruction of men. Such a desire would be utterly inconsistent with His character and with His express declarations (Ezek. xviii. 23, 32, &c.). We need not imagine, then, that we have here a confirmation of those schemes of arbitrary election and reprobation which some theologians have attributed to Him.

But 1. Because it is necessary for the preservation of His character as a God of righteousness and mercy that He should do what ought to result in the salvation of men. Had He not sent His prophets forth on their sad mission, we should have been confronted by a greater difficulty: God permitting His chosen people to go on to ruin without one word of warning spoken, without one effort put forth to arrest them. But one of the supreme moral necessities of the universe is this, that His character as a God desiring the redemption of sinners should be maintained unimpaired; and therefore He sends forth His messengers to proclaim the truth, although He foresees that to many they will be the “savour of death unto death,”—and not “the savour of life unto life,”—not as that same frosty air which “braces” and invigorates those who are already vigorous. As this quotation reminds you, this is the effect of the Gospel itself. Ought God, therefore, never to have sent its preachers forth? 2. That stubborn sinners may be left without excuse in the day of their doom. God will not merely take vengeance on the violators of His laws of righteousness; He will make it manifest that while in Him there is an awful severity, there is no vindictiveness; and He will so act that, even when that severity is most manifested, not only the onlookers, but even those who experience it shall be constrained to confess, “Just and true are Thy ways, Thou King of saints!” He will not leave it possible for them to say, “Hadst Thou warned us, we should not have sinned.” They shall be speechless (Matt. xxii. 12; Jer. xliv. 2–5). 3. That the righteous may be saved. Did He not send His prophets forth to instruct and warn, even the men in whose hearts are the germs of righteousness and holiness of life would follow the multitude to do evil: they hear, and turn, and live: and this is ample justification of the prophet’s mission. Those who perish would have perished without it; but without it those who are saved would have perished also. And in this respect Isaiah’s ministry was not in vain: while to the vast majority of the nation it was “the savour of death unto death,” it was to a few—“the holy seed” of whom also this chapter speaks to us—“the savour of live unto life.” They learned to trust, not in Assyria nor in Egypt, but in the Holy One of Israel, and therefore were “kept in perfect peace” amid all the convulsions and catastrophes of their time.

The passage seemed at the outset full of mystery; our tendency was to shun it as one that would not bear investigation, as one about which the least that could be said the better, as one which we could have wished had never been written. What do we see now? That here we have an illustration of the Psalmist’s saying, “Clouds and darkness are round about Him”—so to our purblind vision it seems, the brightness being so bright that it dazzles and blinds us; “but righteousness and judgment are the habitation of His throne.” What should we learn from this? 1. Never to fear to investigate anything in God’s Word. There is nothing here which its friends need wish to hide out of sight; it is all worthy of Him from whom it came (Ps. xix. 9). 2. Never to distrust God because of anything in either His Word or His Providence. Things that might cause distrust we shall meet with; some of them we shall never explain here, when we can know only “in part;” yet let us keep fast hold of the glorious and gladdening truth, that “in Him is no darkness at all.” God is light; God is love.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] To a man living in the belief of what is erroneous or the practice of what is wrong you proclaim the truth, and what happens? (1) Either he amends his creed or his conduct; or (2) he disregards what you say, and goes on as before; or (3) he rejects what you say, and cleaves to his error more passionately than he would have done otherwise. The latter is a very frequent result. For example, slavery once prevailed throughout our colonies and the United States of America. Holy men held slaves; they had no suspicion of the wrongfulness of slavery. When its wrongfulness was proclaimed, many abandoned it; but others held to it,—some not caring whether it was wrong or right, looking only to the fact that it was profitable; but others reasoned themselves into a persuasion that it was right, that it is Scriptural, and maintained the system with a tenacity and passion they never felt before its wickedness was declared. In thousands of cases that was the result of the anti-slavery movement. God foresaw it, yet He raised up faithful men to proclaim the doctrines of human brotherhood and freedom, and sent them forth on their perilous errand, saying to them in effect, “Go, and tell this people, Hear ye indeed, but understand not; and see ye indeed, but perceive not. Make the heart of this people fat, and make their ears heavy, and shut their eyes, lest they see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their heart, and convert, and be healed.” He sent them forth, notwithstanding that He foresaw that one inevitable effect of their mission would be the confirmation of thousands in error, the hardening of thousands in iniquity. In like manner He raised up Isaiah and other prophets to denounce their political schemes—their alliances now with Egypt and now with Assyria—to be huge mistakes, and to exhort them to a life of holiness and of simple trust in God; He foresaw that the result of their efforts would not be the reformation of the nation, and yet He sent them forth!

 

The Rejection of Divine Truth.

vi. 9, 10. And He said, Go, and tell this people, &c.

The Divine message—a message of melting pathos and of startling warning, of beseeching entreaty and of terrible threatening—must be delivered to men. “Go and tell this people” is a command that shatters excuses and imposes an imperative obligation. God’s speakers have no option—speak they must (Jonah iii. 2). The effects of God’s communications correspond to the willingness or the wilfulness of men.

I. Divine truth elicits human disposition. In the spring season, the sun sits in judgment upon the trees of gardens and forests. Then the trees that have life have it more abundantly. Their latent powers and possibilities are developed and exhibited. The same sun-force smites the decaying trees and shrivels those having only goodliness without life. Is not the Sun of Righteousness “a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart”? When on earth, He who is “the Truth” evoked the hidden feelings, purposes, and qualities of men; and His manifold message repeats the process to the end of time (John ix. 39). The ministry of Isaiah was a revealing ministry: the character of men and the character of the nation by it were made manifest. II. Divine truth repelled because of dislike. “Lest they see, hear, understand, be converted and healed.” A diseased eye winces under the scorching sunlight, as a disordered soul will flinch under the fierce light that streams upon it from above. The disquieted conscience repels the entrance of the truth, because of the revolutions in thought, disposition, purpose, character, and activity which its admission would necessitate. None are so blind, deaf, insensible as those who do not want to see, hear, or feel (John iii. 19, 20). Men dislike the purpose of God’s good but severe discipline: they want not to “be converted and healed,” and they recoil from the painful process.[1] III. Divine truth cannot be rejected without injury. Divine truth and grace will not be void of result, though the result may be most injurious (Rom ii. 4, 5). Consequences of lasting duration are involved in our action of opening or shutting the doors of the soul.[2] Not to receive the “grace upon grace” of God is to put the spirit into an attitude of opposition: this attitude can easily become a confirmed habit; and the habit, in righteous retribution, may be ratified (Rev. xxii. 11). Antagonism to God’s revelation injures the soul’s highest life; its power of vision is dimmed or veiled; the understanding loses its alertness and fails to comprehend; the affections become gross and carnal. Inexorable is the spiritual law and appalling the spiritual doom (Eph. iv. 18). Isaiah unfolded God’s design of salvation; but the design was intercepted and frustrated by human perversity. Men “rejected the counsel of God against themselves,” and persistent resistance rendered them “past feeling.” “Take heed how ye hear.” “Hear, and your soul shall live.”[3]Matthew Braithwaite.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] “There is light enough for those whose sincere desire is to see; and darkness enough for those of a contrary disposition. There is brightness enough to illuminate the elect; and enough of obscurity to humble them. There is obscurity enough to blind the reprobate; and brightness enough to condemn them and to leave them without excuse.”—Blaise Pascal.

[2] “The smallest particle of light falling on the sensitive plate produces a chemical change that can never be undone again; and the light of Christ’s love, once brought to the knowledge and presented for the acceptance of a soul, stamps on it an ineffaceable sign of its having been there. Once heard, it is henceforward a perpetual element in the whole condition, character, and destiny of the hearer. Every man that ever rejects Christ, does these things thereby—wounds his own conscience, hardens his own heart, and makes himself a worse man, just because he has had a glimpse of holiness, and has willingly, and almost consciously, “loved darkness rather than light.” Unbelief is its own judgment, its own condemnation: unbelief, as sin, is punished like other sins, by the perpetuation of deeper and darker forms of itself. Every time that you stifle a conviction, fight down a conviction, or din away a conviction, you have harmed your soul, made yourself a worse man, lowered the tone of your conscience, enfeebled your will, made your heart harder against love; you have drawn another horny scale over the eye that will prevent you from seeing the light that is yonder. You have, as much as in you is, approximated to the other pole of the universe (if I may say that), to the dark and deadly antagonist of mercy, and goodness, and truth, and grace.”—Alexander Maclaren.

[3] “The great iniquity is, or then is the Gospel hid in a sinful sense, when men have it among them, or may have it, and will not hear it; or do hear it, and never understand it,—that is, never apply or set themselves to understand it; or receive no conviction from it; or receive no suitable impression on their hearts from it. Thus, all the while, is the Gospel hid to them by their own iniquity, that they do voluntarily make resisting efforts against it, as everything of sin must have somewhat of voluntarium in it. It supposeth that otherwise a brute agent might be as capable of sin as a rational one, and that cannot be. But here lies the iniquity, that men might understand and they will not; and there is a natural faculty that should turn them, even in their very hearts; but there is a sinful disinclination, and they will not turn. For it is the will that is not turned: “Ye will not come unto me that ye might have life.” And so, when the Gospel is hid, it is hid, not because men cannot see, but because they will not. They do (as it were) pretend the veil; stretch forth the veil before their eyes or bind it close over their own eyes, hoodwink themselves that they will not see. Being thus sinfully hidden, it comes also to be penally hidden by a nemesis, hidden by a just vindicta. Ye will not understand, then ye shall not understand; ye will harden your hearts against light, against grace, against the design of the Gospel, and they shall be hardened. Since ye will have it so, so let it be.”—John Howe.

P. D., 2938, 3391.

 

The Duration of the Prophet’s Mission.

vi. 11–13. Then said I, Lord how long? &c.

For an exposition of this passage see note.[1]

Let us look steadily at the facts before us, and then, perchance, we may discern the lessons associated with them. Isaiah desires to know how long his strange and sad mission is to continue; and the answer is, until its utter failure to save his fellow-countrymen from their sins and their impending doom has been demonstrated, until nothing but the mere life-germ of the nation is left. Here really are three facts, full of instruction for us to-day. I. Isaiah’s mission and the calamities he desired to avert by it were to work together. There was thus a twofold appeal to the men of that generation; and at its close God might have repeated the challenge, “What could I have done more?” (chap. v. 4). Both by offers of mercy and manifestations of righteous anger He sought to deliver them from the doom towards which they madly hastened. Thus God deals with the world to-day: His preachers of righteousness and His judgments because of unrighteousness work side by side; this fact is a conclusive proof that God is not willing that the sinner should die. This is true of nations, and it is true of individuals. II. Isaiah was to prosecute his mission to the end, notwithstanding the proofs that his efforts to deliver his fellow-countrymen were vain. This is always the duty of God’s messengers: they are to deliver their message, and reiterate it. Whether it is popular or unpopular is a thing of which they are not even to think! the one thing they have to consider and remember is, that it is true. III. In the midst of all the calamities of his time, Isaiah was sustained by the assurance that the nation he loves should not utterly perish. Nothing could hurt “the holy seed” that constituted its true life. The Church of to-day is full of imperfections; the forces of unbelief are marshalling themselves against her; it may be that she will again be tried by fierce persecutions: but the Lord’s true prophet can survey all these possible calamities with calmness; he knows that “the holy seed” which constitutes her true life cannot be injured by them.

Here, then, is instruction and encouragement for the Lord’s prophet to-day. He is to preach the preaching which God has bidden him, regardless of everything but the fact that God had sent it forth. He is not to modify his message, to make it more palatable to his hearers. He must not cease to deliver it, although he sees that his hearers are hardening themselves against it, and so are bringing upon themselves a heavier doom. Comfort he will need, but he must find it in the fact that there is a “holy seed” to whom his ministry will be a blessing, and in whose salvation, if he be faithful to the end, he shall share.

In this passage there are also some supplementary lessons of general interest. 1. We have here an illustration of the persistence and success of the Divine purposes. God selected the descendants of Abraham as the instruments through whom He would bless the world (Exod. xix. 5, 6). Their history has been one long struggle against this purpose; but it has not been a frustration of it: their very waywardness and wickedness have afforded occasions for the manifestation of His character, and the consequent revelations both of His goodness and of His severity have been blessings in the world. In spite even of their rejection of His Son they are still His people, and He will at length make them a holy people (Rom. xi. 28–29). 2. God does not hesitate to use any means that will help to conform His chosen ones to His own ideal. It is a solemn thing to be chosen of God: that choice may involve possibilities from which flesh and blood shrinks.[2] The way to avoid those possibilities is to find out what God’s purpose concerning us is, and endeavour to conform ourselves thereto: then we shall find His choice of us a well-spring of constant blessing. 3. God does not despise the merest germs of goodness. Insignificant, comparatively, as was “the holy seed” in Israel, He watched over it with ceaseless care. Comfort there is here for those who lament that there is in them so little of which God can approve. That little He will not despise (1 Kings xiv. 13; Isa. xlii. 3); He sees what possibilities of excellence there are in His chosen ones;[3] and those little germs of excellence He will nourish until they have developed into that which will satisfy even Himself.