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Ecclesiastes
Chapter Seven
Ecclesiastes 7
Chapter Contents
The benefit of a good name; of death above life; of
sorrow above vain mirth. (1-6) Concerning oppression, anger, and discontent.
(7-10) Advantages of wisdom. (11-22) Experience of the evil of sin. (23-29)
Commentary on Ecclesiastes 7:1-6
(Read Ecclesiastes 7:1-6)
Reputation for piety and honesty is more desirable than
all the wealth and pleasure in this world. It will do more good to go to a
funeral than to a feast. We may lawfully go to both, as there is occasion; our
Saviour both feasted at the wedding of his friend in Cana, and wept at the
grave of his friend in Bethany. But, considering how apt we are to be vain and
indulge the flesh, it is best to go to the house of mourning, to learn the end
of man as to this world. Seriousness is better than mirth and jollity. That is
best for us which is best for our souls, though it be unpleasing to sense. It
is better to have our corruptions mortified by the rebuke of the wise, than to
have them gratified by the song of fools. The laughter of a fool is soon gone,
the end of his mirth is heaviness.
Commentary on Ecclesiastes 7:7-10
(Read Ecclesiastes 7:7-10)
The event of our trials and difficulties is often better
than at first we thought. Surely it is better to be patient in spirit, than to
be proud and hasty. Be not soon angry, nor quick in resenting an affront. Be
not long angry; though anger may come into the bosom of a wise man, it passes
through it as a way-faring man; it dwells only in the bosom of fools. It is
folly to cry out upon the badness of our times, when we have more reason to cry
out for the badness of our own hearts; and even in these times we enjoy many
mercies. It is folly to cry up the goodness of former times; as if former ages
had not the like things to complain of that we have: this arises from
discontent, and aptness to quarrel with God himself.
Commentary on Ecclesiastes 7:11-22
(Read Ecclesiastes 7:11-22)
Wisdom is as good as an inheritance, yea better. It
shelters from the storms and scorching heat of trouble. Wealth will not
lengthen out the natural life; but true wisdom will give spiritual life, and
strengthen men for services under their sufferings. Let us look upon the
disposal of our condition as the work of God, and at last all will appear to
have been for the best. In acts of righteousness, be not carried into heats or
passions, no, not by a zeal for God. Be not conceited of thine own abilities;
nor find fault with every thing, nor busy thyself in other men's matters. Many
who will not be wrought upon by the fear of God, and the dread of hell, will
avoid sins which ruin their health and estate, and expose to public justice.
But those that truly fear God, have but one end to serve, therefore act
steadily. If we say we have not sinned, we deceive ourselves. Every true
believer is ready to say, God be merciful to me a sinner. Forget not at the
same time, that personal righteousness, walking in newness of life, is the only
real evidence of an interest by faith in the righteousness of the Redeemer.
Wisdom teaches us not to be quick in resenting affronts. Be not desirous to
know what people say; if they speak well of thee, it will feed thy pride, if
ill, it will stir up thy passion. See that thou approve thyself to God and
thine own conscience, and then heed not what men say of thee; it is easier to
pass by twenty affronts than to avenge one. When any harm is done to us, examine
whether we have not done as bad to others.
Commentary on Ecclesiastes 7:23-29
(Read Ecclesiastes 7:23-29)
Solomon, in his search into the nature and reason of
things, had been miserably deluded. But he here speaks with godly sorrow. He
alone who constantly aims to please God, can expect to escape; the careless
sinner probably will fall to rise no more. He now discovered more than ever the
evil of the great sin of which he had been guilty, the loving many strange
women, 1 Kings 11:1. A woman thoroughly upright and
godly, he had not found. How was he likely to find such a one among those he
had collected? If any of them had been well disposed, their situation would
tend to render them all nearly of the same character. He here warns others
against the sins into which he had been betrayed. Many a godly man can with
thankfulness acknowledge that he has found a prudent, virtuous woman in the
wife of his bosom; but those men who have gone in Solomon's track, cannot
expect to find one. He traces up all the streams of actual transgression to the
fountain. It is clear that man is corrupted and revolted, and not as he was
made. It is lamentable that man, whom God made upright, has found out so many
ways to render himself wicked and miserable. Let us bless Him for Jesus Christ,
and seek his grace, that we may be numbered with his chosen people.
── Matthew Henry《Concise Commentary on Ecclesiastes》
Ecclesiastes 7
Verse 1
[1] A
good name is better than precious ointment; and the day of death than the day
of one's birth.
Of death —
Seeing this life is so full of vanity, and vexation, and misery, it is more
desirable for a man to go out of it, than to come into it.
Verse 2
[2] It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of
feasting: for that is the end of all men; and the living will lay it to his
heart.
The house —
Where mourners meet to celebrate the funeral of a deceased friend.
That —
Death.
The living —
Will be seriously affected with it, whereas feasting is commonly attended with
levity, and manifold temptations.
Verse 4
[4] The
heart of the wise is in the house of mourning; but the heart of fools is in the
house of mirth.
The wise —
Are constantly meditating upon serious things.
Verse 6
[6] For
as the crackling of thorns under a pot, so is the laughter of the fool: this
also is vanity.
Thorns —
Which for a time make a great noise and blaze, but presently go out.
Verse 7
[7] Surely oppression maketh a wise man mad; and a gift destroyeth the heart.
A gift — A
bribe given to a wise man, deprives him of the use of his understanding. So
this verse discovers two ways whereby a wise man may be made mad, by suffering
oppression from others, or by receiving bribes to oppress others. And this also
is an argument of the vanity of worldly wisdom that is so easily corrupted and
lost.
Verse 8
[8]
Better is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof: and the patient in
spirit is better than the proud in spirit.
The end —
The good or evil of things is better known by their end, than by their
beginning.
The patient —
Who quietly waits for the issue of things.
The proud —
Which he puts instead of hasty or impatient, because pride is the chief cause
of impatience.
Verse 10
[10] Say
not thou, What is the cause that the former days were better than these? for
thou dost not enquire wisely concerning this.
Better —
More quiet and comfortable. For this is an argument of a mind unthankful for
the many mercies, which men enjoy even in evil times.
For —
This question shews thy folly in contending with thy Lord and governor, in
opposing thy shallow wit to his unsearchable wisdom.
Verse 11
[11]
Wisdom is good with an inheritance: and by it there is profit to them that see
the sun.
Good —
When wisdom and riches meet in one man, it is an happy conjunction.
By it — By
wisdom joined with riches there comes great benefit.
To them —
Not only to a man's self, but many others in this world.
Verse 12
[12] For
wisdom is a defence, and money is a defence: but the excellency of knowledge
is, that wisdom giveth life to them that have it.
Life —
But herein knowledge of wisdom excels riches, that whereas riches frequently
expose men to destruction, true wisdom doth often preserve a man from temporal,
and always from eternal ruin.
Verse 13
[13]
Consider the work of God: for who can make that straight, which he hath made
crooked?
Consider —
His wise, and just, and powerful government of all events, which is proposed as
the last and best remedy against all murmurings.
For who — No
man can correct or alter any of God's works; and therefore all frettings at the
injuries of men, or calamities of times, are not only sinful, but also vain and
fruitless. This implies that there is an hand of God in all mens actions,
either effecting them, if they be good, or permitting them, if they be bad, and
ordering and over-ruling them, whether they he good or bad.
Verse 14
[14] In
the day of prosperity be joyful, but in the day of adversity consider: God also
hath set the one over against the other, to the end that man should find
nothing after him.
Be joyful —
Enjoy God's favours with thankfulness.
Consider —
Consider that it is God's hand, and therefore submit to it: consider also why
God sends it, for what sins, and with what design.
God also —
Hath wisely ordained, that prosperity and adversity should succeed one another.
That — No
man might be able to foresee, what shall befal him afterwards; and therefore
might live in a constant dependance upon God, and neither despair in trouble,
nor be secure or presumptuous in prosperity.
Verse 15
[15] All
things have I seen in the days of my vanity: there is a just man that perisheth
in his righteousness, and there is a wicked man that prolongeth his life in his
wickedness.
All —
All sorts of events.
My vanity —
Since I have come into this vain life.
Perisheth —
Yea, for his righteousness, which exposes him to the envy, anger, or hatred of
wicked men.
Wickedness —
Notwithstanding all his wickedness.
Verse 16
[16] Be
not righteous over much; neither make thyself over wise: why shouldest thou
destroy thyself?
Be not —
This verse and the next have a manifest reference to verse 15, being two inferences drawn from the two
clauses of the observation. Solomon here speaks in the person of an ungodly
man, who takes occasion to dissuade men from righteousness, because of the
danger which attends it. Therefore, saith he, take heed of strictness, zeal,
and forwardness in religion. And the next verse contains an antidote to this
suggestion; yea, rather saith he, be not wicked or foolish overmuch; for that
will not preserve thee, as thou mayest imagine, but will occasion and hasten
thy ruin.
Verse 18
[18] It
is good that thou shouldest take hold of this; yea, also from this withdraw not
thine hand: for he that feareth God shall come forth of them all.
Take hold of —
Embrace and practise this counsel.
Shall come —
Shall be delivered from all extremes, and from all the evil consequences of
them.
Verse 19
[19]
Wisdom strengtheneth the wise more than ten mighty men which are in the city.
Strengthen —
Supports him in, and secures him against troubles and dangers.
Verse 20
[20] For
there is not a just man upon earth, that doeth good, and sinneth not.
Sinneth not —
Who is universally and perfectly good.
Verse 21
[21] Also
take no heed unto all words that are spoken; lest thou hear thy servant curse
thee:
Also — Do
not strictly search into them, nor listen to hear them.
Verse 23
[23] All
this have I proved by wisdom: I said, I will be wise; but it was far from me.
Proved — I
have found to be true, by the help of that singular wisdom which God had given
me.
I said — I
determined that I would attain perfection of wisdom.
But — I
found myself greatly disappointed.
Verse 24
[24] That
which is far off, and exceeding deep, who can find it out?
It — God's counsels and
works, and the reasons of them.
Verse 25
[25] I
applied mine heart to know, and to search, and to seek out wisdom, and the
reason of things, and to know the wickedness of folly, even of foolishness and
madness:
And seek — He
useth three words signifying the same thing, to intimate his vehement desire,
and vigorous, and unwearied endeavours after it.
The reason —
Both of God's various providences, and of the counsels and courses of men.
The wickedness —
Clearly and fully to understand the great evil of sin.
Verse 26
[26] And
I find more bitter than death the woman, whose heart is snares and nets, and
her hands as bands: whoso pleaseth God shall escape from her; but the sinner
shall be taken by her.
I find — By
my own sad experience.
Shall escape —
Shall be prevented from falling into her hands.
Verse 27
[27]
Behold, this have I found, saith the preacher, counting one by one, to find out
the account:
To find —
That I might make a true and just estimate.
Verse 28
[28]
Which yet my soul seeketh, but I find not: one man among a thousand have I
found; but a woman among all those have I not found.
Yet seeketh — I
returned to search again with more earnestness.
I find not —
That it was so, he found, but the reason of the thing he could not find out.
One man — A
wise and virtuous man.
A woman —
One worthy of that name; one who is not a dishonour to her sex.
Among — In
that thousand whom I have taken into intimate society with myself.
Verse 29
[29] Lo,
this only have I found, that God hath made man upright; but they have sought
out many inventions.
Lo, this —
Though I could not find out all the streams of wickedness, and their infinite
windings and turnings, yet I have discovered the fountain of it, Original sin,
and the corruption of nature, which is both in men and women.
That —
God made our first parents, Adam and Eve.
Upright — Heb.
right: without any imperfection or corruption, conformable to his nature and
will, after his own likeness.
They —
Our first parents, and after them their posterity.
Sought out —
Were not contented with their present state, but studied new ways of making
themselves more wise and happy, than God had made them. And we, their wretched
children, are still prone to forsake the certain rule of God's word, and the
true way to happiness, and to seek new methods of attaining it.
── John Wesley《Explanatory Notes on Ecclesiastes》
07 Chapter 7
Verses 1-29
A good name is better than precious ointment.
The fragrance of moral worth
I. The elements of
a good name. It is something more than being “well spoken of,” for often “what
is highly esteemed among men is abomination in the sight of God.” It is not
even a good reputation, unless that be sustained by the good reality. Socrates,
on being asked how one might obtain a good name, replied, “Study really to be
what you wish to be accounted.” “A good name” is enshrined in “whatsoever
things are honest, lovely, and of good report”--a “name” not only remembered on
earth, but “written in heaven.” It includes--
1. Piety.
2. Diligence.
3. Integrity.
4. Patriotism.
5. Benevolence.
6. Devotion.
II. The superior
value of a good name. “Better than precious ointment.”
1. It is rarer. Rare as some oriental unguents are, they are
plentiful compared with Scripture’s “good name” in this pretentious world.
2. It is more costly. Not a little did the alabaster box of ointment,
poured by one on the Saviour, cost; but who shall estimate the expense at which
a rebel against God has been so changed in state and character as to have a
name, absolutely fragrant, not only in a sinful earth, but throughout a sinless
universe? The sufferings of Jesus and the influences of the Spirit indicate a
cost which no arithmetic can compute.
3. It is more enduring than ointment. The latter’s delectable
properties will soon evaporate, as if it had never been; but a “good name,”
earned in “doing the will of God, abideth for ever.” “The righteous shall be in
everlasting remembrance.”
4. Than ointment, such a “good name” is “better” for the individual
himself. It inlays the soul with satisfaction. “A good man shall be satisfied,”
not with, but “from himself.” He secures a signal luxury. “It is more blessed
to give than to receive.” Such “a good name” is “better” for society. It is
stimulating. Barnabas’s “good name” was a passport to Saul of Tarsus among the
Churches. Paul’s “good name” was all that was needed to secure large donations
for the poor saints at Jerusalem. Such a name is absolutely beneficial. What
woes have not fled before its odoriferous power! What songs has it not kindled
on lips unaccustomed to “the music of the spheres”! (A. M. Stalker.)
A well-grounded good name
The improving of our life in this world to the raising up a
well-grounded good name and savoury character in it, is the best balance for
the present for the vanity and misery attending our life, better than the most
savoury earthly things.
I. Some things
supposed in the doctrine.
1. There is a vanity and misery that is the inseparable attendant of
human life in this world. No man in life is free of it, nor can be (Psalms 39:6).
2. Every man will find himself obliged to seek for some allay of that
vanity and misery of life, that he may be enabled to comport with it (Psalms 6:6). This makes a busy world,
every one seeking something to make his hard seat soft.
3. It is natural for men to seek an allay to the vanity and misery of
life in earthly things (Psalms 6:6).
4. But the best of earthly things will make but a sorry plaster for
that sore; they will not be able to balance the vanity and misery of life, but with
them all life may be rendered sapless, through the predominant vanity and
misery of it.
5. Howbeit, the improving of life to the raising a well-grounded good
name, will balance the vanity and misery of life effectually; so that he who
has reached that kind of living, has what is well worth the enduring all the
miseries of life for. There is an excellency and good in it that downweigh all
the evils attending life.
II. What is the well-grounded good
name that is the balance of the vanity and misery of human life?
1. It is the name of religion, and no less; for there is nothing
truly good separate from religion (Matthew 7:18).
2. It is raised on the reality of religion, and no less; for a mere
show of religion is but a vain and empty thing, which will dwindle to nothing
with other vanities. We may take up that good name in three parts.
III. What is the
improvement of life whereby that good name may be raised.
1. Improve your life by a personal and saving entering into the
covenant of grace, and uniting with Christ, by believing on His name.
2. Improve your life to a living a life of faith in this world.
3. Improve your life to the living of a life beneficial to mankind,
profitable to your fellow-creatures, diffusing a benign influence through the
world, as ye have access; so that when you are gone, the world may be convinced
they have lost a useful member that sought their good; so shall ye have the
good name, “Useful to men” (Acts 13:36).
IV. Confirm the
point.
1. This improvement of life is the best balance for the present, for
the vanity and misery of life.
2. This improvement of life is better than the best and most savoury
earthly things.
A good name
There are a thousand men in our cities to-day who are considering,
“What is the best investment that I can make of myself? What are the tools that
will cut my way in life best?” It sounds to them very much like old-fashioned
preaching to say that a good name is the best thing you can have. Now, let us
consider that a little. In the first place, what is included in a name? A man
that has a name has a character; and a good name is a good character; but it is
more than a good character; it is a good character with a reputation that
properly goes with character. It is what you are, and then what men think you
to be--the substance and the shadow both; for character is what a man is, and
what men think him to be; and when they are coincident, then you have the
fulness of a good name. In the world at large, what are the elements of conduct
which leave upon society a kind of impression of you? The first foundation
quality of manliness is truth-speaking. Then, perhaps, next to that is justice;
the sense of what is right between man and man; fairness. Then sincerity. Then
fidelity. If these are all coupled with good sense, or common sense, which is
the most uncommon of all sense; if these are central to that form of
intelligence which addresses itself to the capacity of the average man, you
have a very good foundation laid. Men used, before the era of steam, to wearily
tow their boats up through the lower Ohio, or through the Mississippi, with a
long line; and at night it was not always safe for them to fasten their boats
on the bank while they slept, because there was danger, from the wash of the
underflowing current, that they would find themselves drifting and pulling a
tree after them. Therefore they sought out well-planted, solid, enduring trees
and tied to them, and the phrase became popular, “That man will do to tie
to”--that is to say, he has those qualities which make it perfectly safe for
you to attach yourself to him. Now, not only are these foundation qualities,
but they are qualities which tend to breed the still higher elements. If with
substantial moral excellence there comes industry, superior skill, in any and
every direction, if a man’s life leads him to purity and benevolence, then he
has gone up a stage higher. If it is found, not that the man is obsequious to
the sects, but that he is God-fearing in the better sense of the term fear,
that he is really a religious-minded man, that he is pure in his moral habits,
though he is deficient in his enterprise and endeavours, so that his
inspiration is not calculation, so that the influence that is working in him is
the influence of the eternal and invisible; if all these qualities in him have
been known and tested; if it is found that his sincerity is not the rash
sincerity of inexperience, and that it is not the impulse of an untutored and
untrained generosity; if it is found that these qualities implanted in him have
been built upon, that they have increased, that they have had the impact of
storms upon them, and that they have stood; if there have been inducements and
temptations to abandon truth and justice, and sincerity and fidelity, but the
man has been mightier than the temptation or the inducement--then he has built
a name, at least, which is a tower of strength; and men say, “There is a man
for you.” Now, how does a man’s name affect his prosperity? It is said that it
is better than precious ointment. Well, in the first place, it works in an
invisible way, in methods that men do not account for. It suffuses around about
one an atmosphere, not very powerful, but yet very advantageous, in the form of
kind feelings and wishes. Then consider how a good name, where it is real, and
is fortified by patient continuance in well-doing, increases in value. There is
no other piece of property whose value is enhanced more rapidly than this,
because every year that flows around about a man fortifies the opinion of men
that it is not put on, that it is not vincible, that it is real and stable.
Then, a good name is a legacy. There is many and many a father that has ruined
a son by transmitting money to him. There is no knife that is so dangerous as a
golden knife. But there is no man that ever hurt his son by giving him a good
name--a name that is a perpetual honour; a name such that when it is pronounced
it makes every one turn round and say, “Ah, that is his son,” and smile upon
him. A good name is worth a man’s earning to transmit to his posterity. And
that is not the end of it, where men are permitted to attain a great name. Some
such we have had in our history. Some such appear in every age and generation
in European history--some far back over the high summits of the thousands of
years that have rolled between them and us. But some names there are in European
history, and some names there are in American history, that have lifted the
ideal of manhood throughout the whole world. So a good name becomes a heritage
not only to one’s children, to one’s country, and to one’s age, but, in the
cases of a few men, to the race. (H. W. Beecher.)
A good name
Hitherto the book has chiefly contained the diagnosis of the great
disease. The royal patient has passed before us in every variety of mood, from
the sleepy collapse of one who has eaten the fabled lotus, up to the frantic
consciousness of a Hercules tearing his limbs as he tries to rend off his robe
of fiery poison. He now comes to the cure. He enumerates the prescriptions
which he tried, and mentions their results. Solomon’s first beatitude is an
honourable reputation. He knew what it had been to possess it; and he knew what
it was to lose it. And here he says, Happy is the possessor of an untarnished
character! so happy that he cannot die too soon! A name truly good is the aroma
from virtuous character. It is a spontaneous emanation from genuine excellence.
It is a reputation for whatsoever things are honest, and lovely, and of good
report. To secure a reputation there must not only be the genuine excellence
but the genial atmosphere. There must be some good men to observe and
appreciate the goodness while it lived, and others to foster its memory when
gone. But should both combine,--the worth and the appreciation of worth,--the
resulting good name is better than precious ointment. Rarer and more costly, it
is also one of the most salutary influences that can penetrate society. For,
just as a box of spikenard is not only valuable to its possessor, but
pre-eminently precious in its diffusion; so, when a name is really good, it is
of unspeakable service to all who are capable of feeling its exquisite
inspiration. And should the Spirit of God so replenish a man with His gifts and
graces, as to render his name thus wholesome, better than the day of his birth
will be the day of his death; for at death the box is broken and the sweet
savour spreads abroad. There is an end of the envy and sectarianism and
jealousy, the detraction and the calumny, which often environ goodness when
living; and now that the stopper of prejudice is removed, the world fills with
the odour of the ointment, and thousands grow stronger and more lifesome for
the good name of one. Without a good name you can possess little ascendancy
over others; and when it has not pioneered your way and won a prepossession for
yourself, your patriotic or benevolent intentions are almost sure to be
defeated. And yet it will never do to seek a good name as a primary object.
Like trying to be graceful, the effort to be popular will make you
contemptible. Take care of your spirit and conduct, and your reputation will
take care of itself. (J. Hamilton, D. D.)
The day of death than the
day of one’s birth.--
The day of the Christian’s death
This statement must be understood not absolutely, but
conditionally. It is applicable only to those who “die unto the Lord,” and none
can do so but those who are sincere believers in Christ, the sinner’s Savior.
I. The day of the
Christian’s death brings deliverance from all suffering and grief. The end of a
voyage is better than the beginning, especially if it has been a stormy one. Is
not then the day of a Christian’s death better than the day of his birth?
II. In the case of
the believer in Jesus, the day of death is the day of final triumph over all
sin, It is the day in which the work of grace in his soul is brought unto
perfection; and is not that day better than the day of his birth?
III. In the case of
Christ’s followers, the day of their decease introduces them into a state of
endless reward (Psalms 31:19; 1 Peter 1:4; 1 Corinthians 2:9; Revelation 3:21). (G. S. Ingram.)
The believer’s deathday better than his birthday
You must have a good name,--you must be written among the living
in Zion, written in the Lamb’s book of life, or else the text is not true of
you; and, alas, though the day of your birth was a bad day, the day of your
death will be a thousand times worse. But now, if you are one of God’s people,
trusting in Him, look forward to the day of your death as being better than the
day of your birth.
I. First, then,
our deathday is better than our
birthday: and it is so for this among other reasons--“Better is
the end of a thing than the beginning thereof.” When we are born we begin life,
but what will that life be? Friends say, “Welcome, little stranger.” Ah, but
what kind of reception will the stranger get when he is no longer a new-comer?
He who is newly born and is ordained to endure through a long life is like a
warrior who puts on his harness for battle; and is not he in a better case who
puts it off because he has won the victory? Ask any soldier which he likes
best, the first shot in the battle or the sound which means “Cease firing, for
the victory is won.” When we were born we set out on our journey; but when we
die we end our weary march in the Father’s house above. Surely it is better to
have come to the end of the tiresome pilgrimage than to have commenced it. Better is the day of
death than our birthday, because about the birthday there hangs uncertainty. I
heard this morning of a dear friend who had fallen asleep. When I wrote to his
wife I said, “Concerning him we speak with certainty. You sorrow not as those
that are without hope. A long life of walking with God proved that he was one of God’s
people, and we know that for such there remains joy without temptation, without
sorrow, without end, for ever and ever.” Oh, then, as much as certainty is
better than uncertainty, the day of the saint’s death is better than the day of
his birth. So, too, in things which are certain the saint’s deathday is
preferable to the beginning of life, for we know that when the child is born he
is born to sorrow. Trials must and will befall, and your little one who is born
to-day is born to an inheritance of grief, like his father, like his mother,
who prophesied it as it were by her own pangs. But look, now, at the saint when
he dies. It is absolutely certain that he has done with sorrow, done with pain.
Now, surely, the day in which we are certain that sorrow is over must be better
than the day in which we are certain that sorrow is on the road.
II. The day of
death is better to the believer than all his happy days. What were his happy
days? I shall take him as a man, and I will pick out some days that are often
thought to be happy. There is the day of a man’s coming of age, when he feels
that he is a man, especially if he has an estate to come into. That is a day of
great festivity. You have seen pictures of “Coming of age in the olden time,”
when the joy of the young squire seemed to spread itself over all the tenants
and all the farm labourers: everybody rejoiced. Ah, that is all very well, but
when believers die they do in a far higher sense come of age, and enter upon
their heavenly estates. Then shall I pluck the grapes from those vines that I
have read of as enriching the vales of Eshcol; then shall I lie down and drink
full draughts of the river of God, which is full of water; then shall I know
even as I am known, and see no more through a glass darkly, but face to face.
Another very happy day with a man is the day of his marriage: who does not
rejoice then? What cold heart is there which does not beat with joy on that
day? But on the day of death we shall enter more fully into the joy of our
Lord, and into that blessed marriage union which is established between Him and
ourselves. There are days with men in business that are happy days, because
they are days of gain. They get some sudden windfall, they prosper in business,
or perhaps there are long months of prosperity in which all goes well with
them, and God is giving them the desires of their heart. But, oh, there is no
gain like the gain of our departure to the Father; the greatest of all gains is
that which we shall know when we pass out of the world of trouble into the land
of triumph. “To die is gain.” There are days of honour, when a man is promoted
in office, or receives applause from his fellow-men. But what a day of honour
that will be for you and me if we are carried by angels into Abraham’s bosom!
Days of health are happy days, too. But what health can equal the perfect
wholeness of a spirit in whom the Good Physician has displayed His utmost
skill? We enjoy very happy days of social friendship, when hears warm with
hallowed intercourse, when one can sit a while with a friend, or rest in the
midst of one’s family. Yes, but no day of social enjoyment will match the day
of death. Some of us expect to meet troops of blessed ones that have gone home
long ago, whom we never shall forget.
III. The day of a
believer’s death is better than his holy days on earth. I think that the best
holy day I ever spent was the day of my conversion. There was a novelty and
freshness about that first day which made it like the day in which a man first
sees the light after having been long blind. Since then we have known many
blessed days; our Sabbaths, for instance. We can never give up the Lord’s day.
Precious and dear unto my soul are those sweet rests of love--days that God has
hedged about to make them His own, that they may be ours. Oh, our blessed
Sabbaths! Well, there is this about the day of one’s death--we shall then enter
upon an eternal Sabbath. Our communion days have been very holy days. It has
been very sweet to sit at the Lord’s table, and have fellowship with Jesus in
the breaking of bread and the drinking of wine; but sweeter far will it be to
commune with Him in the paradise above, and that we shall do on the day of our
death. Those days have been good, I am not going to depreciate them, but to
bless the Lord for every one of them. When we say that a second thing is
“better,” it is supposed that the first thing has some goodness about it. Aye,
and our holy days on earth have been good; fit rehearsals of the jubilee beyond
the river. When you and I enter heaven, it will not be going from bad to good,
but from good to better. The change will be remarkable, but it will not be so
great a change as thoughtless persons would imagine. First, there will be no
change of nature. The same nature which God gave us when we were
regenerated--the spiritual nature--is that which will enjoy the heavenly state.
On earth we have had good days, because we have had a good nature given us by
the Holy Spirit, and we shall possess the same nature above, only more fully
grown and purged from all that hinders it. We shall follow the same employments
above as we have followed here. We shall spend eternity in adoring the Most
High. To draw near to God in communion--that is one of our most blessed
employments. We shall do it there, and take our fill of it. Nor is this all,
for we shall serve God in glory. You active-spirited ones, you shall find an
intense delight in continuing to do the same things as to spirit as you do
here, namely, adoring and magnifying and spreading abroad the saving name of
Jesus in whatever place you may be.
IV. The day of a
saint’s death is better than the whole of his days put together, because his
days here are days of dying. The moment we begin to live we commence to die.
Death is the end of dying. On the day of the believer’s death dying is for ever
done with. This life is failure, disappointment, regret. Such emotions are all
over when the day of death comes, for glory dawns upon us with its satisfaction
and intense content. The day of our death will be the day of our cure. There
are some diseases which, in all probability, some of us never will get quite
rid of till the last Physician comes, and He will settle the matter. One gentle
touch of His hand, and we shall be cured for ever. Our deathday will be the
loss of all losses. Life is made up of losses, but death loses losses. Life is
full of crosses, but death is the cross that brings crosses to an end. Death is
the last enemy, and turns out to be the death of every enemy. The day of our
death is the beginning of our best days. “Is this to die?” said one. “Well,
then,” said he, “it is worth while to live even to enjoy the bliss of dying.”
The holy calm of some and the transport of others prove that better is the day
of death in their case than the day of birth, or all their days on earth. (C.
H. Spurgeon.)
Of the birthday and the dying-day
To one who has so lived as to obtain the good name, hie dying day
will be better than his birthday, quite downweighing all the vanity and misery
of life in this world.
I. Some truths
contained in this doctrine.
1. However men live, they must die.
2. The birthday is a good day, notwithstanding all the vanity and
misery of human life. It is a good day to the relations, notwithstanding the
bitterness mixed with it (John 16:21). And so it is to the party,
too, as an entrance on the stage of life whereby God is glorified, and one may
be prepared for a better life (Isaiah 38:19).
3. The dying-day is not always so frightful as it looks; it may be a
good day too. As in scouring a vessel, sand and ashes first defiling it makes
it to glister; so grim death brings in a perfect comeliness. The waters may be
red and frightful, where yet the ground is good, and they are but shallow,
passable with all safety.
4. Where the dying-day follows a well-improved life, it is better
than the birthday, however it may appear. There is this difference betwixt
them, the birthday has its fair side outmost, the dying day has its fair side
inmost; hence the former begins with joy, but opens out in much sorrow; the
latter begins with sorrow, but opens out in treasures of endless joy. And
certainly it is better to step through sorrow into joy than through joy into
sorrow.
5. The dying-day in that case is so very far better than the
birthday, that it quite downweighs all the former vanity and misery of life.
6. But it will not be so in the ease of an ill-spent life. For
whatever joy or sorrow they have been born to in this world, they will never
taste of joy more, but be overwhelmed with floods of sorrow when once their
dying-day is come and over.
II. In what
latitude this doctrine is to be understood.
1. As to the parties, those who have so lived as to obtain the good
name. It is to be understood of them--
2. As to the points in comparison, the birthday and the dying-day, it
is to be understood of them--
3. As to the preference, it stands in two points.
III. Demonstrate the
truth of this paradox, this unlikely tale, That the saint’s dying-day is better
than his birthday.
1. The day of the saint’s birth clothed him with a body of weak and
frail flesh, and so clogged him; the day of his death looses the clog, and sets
him free, clothing him with a house that will never clog him (2 Corinthians 5:1-8).
2. The day of his birth clogged him with a body of sin; the day of
his death sets him quite free from it, and brings him into a state morally
perfect (Hebrews 12:23).
3. The day of the saint’s death carries him into a better world than
the day of his birth did.
4. The day of his death settles him among better company than the day
of his birth did (Hebrews 12:22).
5. The day of his death brings him into a better state than the day
of his birth did.
6. The day of the saint’s death brings him to, and settles him in
better exercise and employment than the day of his birth did. He will spend his
eternity in the other world better than he did his time in this world, how well
soever he spent it (Revelation 4:8). (T. Boston, D.
D.)
Comparative estimate of life and death
What are those circumstances of the Christian which give
superiority to the time of death--which justify us in adopting the sentiment of
the text as our own?
I. There is an
essential difference in the condition of the Christian at the periods of his
earliest and latest consciousness. At the day of birth you cannot distinguish
the future king from the peasant; the hero from the coward; the philosopher
from the clown; the Christian from the infidel. There is a negation of
character common to them all; and the positive qualities of each are not to be
distinguished from the other. What is there to give value to the birthday of
such a being? We pass over the years of childhood and youth, during which the
human being is acquiring varied knowledge, to the period when character is more
fully developed. He feels his responsibility, and knows himself to be a sinner;
but his heart has never submitted to Divine authority, he has never sought for
the pardon of his sins, he is an utter stranger to the grace of the Gospel.
What reason has such a man to exult in the day of his birth? to commemorate it
as a joyous event? But imagine him spared by the goodness of God until he is
brought to repentance. He is in an essentially different position to that in
which he was on the day of his birth, not only by the enlargement of his
faculties, and the exercise of his affections, but they are directed to nobler
objects; he knows and loves the character of God, he aspires after the
enjoyment of Him, looks forward to enduring happiness with Him after the toils
and sufferings of earthly existence, and his faith becomes “the substance of
things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” On the day of his birth he
was the mere creature of flesh and sense, but now he is born of the Spirit, and
he lives by faith. Oh, let death come when it may to the Christian, his dying
day will be better than his birthday.
II. Life is a
period of probation, the successful termination of which is better than its
commencement. It requires the utmost circumspection and watchfulness--the
strictest examination of our motives and feelings, to preserve the evidences of
our Christian character bright and unclouded. There are few Christians,
faithful to their own hearts, who have not had seasons of darkness and
gloominess, and been distressed with various doubts and fears. And when once
these arise in the mind, they impart a character of uncertainty to our personal
salvation. But as we draw nearer to the goal, our confidence increases; the
decline of a Christian’s life is ordinarily marked by greater stability of
mind--by a less wavering faith. God has been, in times past, better to us than
our fears; He has frequently perfected His strength in our weakness, and
carried us unexpectedly through deep waters of affliction; the ultimate issue
appears more certain; we are more habitually confiding on the arm of
omnipotence. And when we come to die, with our souls awake to our real
condition, conscious that we have been upheld to the last moment, a vigorous
faith may enable the Christian go say, with the apostle, in the near prospect
of death, “I have fought the good fight,” etc. We mean not to say that every
successful competitor has a feeling of triumph in the dying hour. The shout of
victory may not be heard on this side the stream of death; but, when he has
passed through its flood, and reached the opposite bank, his redeemed soul will
be attuned to a song of glorious and everlasting triumph.
III. If we consider
the evils to which the Christian is exposed in life, we shall see he has reason
to regard the day of death as better than the day of his birth. On this side
death there are bitter herbs for medicine, suitable to imperfect and diseased
conditions of life; but on the other side are the fruits of paradise, not to
correct the tendencies of an evil nature, but to feed the soul, to nourish it
up unto everlasting blessedness.
IV. The present
life is to the Christian a period of imperfect enjoyment. Here he is, at a
distance from home, from his Father’s house, in which there are many mansions;
here his graces are imperfect, and constitute very limited channels of
happiness to his spirit; here he cannot always enjoy God. His weak faith fails
to realize the loveliness and perfections of Jehovah. Here he cannot at all times hold
fellowship with the Saviour; it is interrupted by doubts and fears--by unworthy
suspicions and criminal feelings. Here he knows but in part, sees but through a
glass darkly, and this state of imperfection will continue until the period of
death. The better country which the Christian seeks is a heavenly country--it
is an incorruptible, undefiled, unfading inheritance, not to be realized in
mortal flesh not to be reached until the spirit, freed from the bonds of earth,
ascends to God who gave it. (S. Summers.)
It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the
house of feasting.
On the benefits to be derived from the house of mourning
It is evident that the wise man does not prefer sorrow, upon its
own account, to mirth; or represent sadness as a state more eligible than joy.
He considers it in
the light of discipline only. He views it with reference to an end. The true
scope of his doctrine in this passage is, that there is a certain temper and
state of heart, which is of far greater consequence to real happiness, than the
habitual indulgence of giddy and thoughtless mirth; that for the attainment and
cultivation of this temper, frequent returns of grave reflection are necessary;
that, upon this account, it is profitable to give admission to those views of
human distress which tend to awaken such reflection in the mind; and that thus,
from the vicissitudes of sorrow, which we either experience in our own lot, or
sympathize with in the lot of others, much wisdom and improvement may be
derived. I begin by observing, that the temper recommended in the text suits
the present constitution of things in this world. Had man been destined for a
course of undisturbed enjoyment, perpetual gaiety would then have corresponded
to his state; and pensive thought have been an unnatural intrusion. But in a
state where all is chequered and mixed, where there is no prosperity without a
reverse, and no joy without its attending griefs, where from the house of
feasting all must, at one time or other, pass into the house of mourning, it
would be equally unnatural if no admission were given to grave reflection. It
is proper also to observe, that as the sadness of the countenance has, in our
present situation, a proper and natural place; so it is requisite to the true enjoyment of pleasure.
It is only the interposal of serious and thoughtful hours that can give any
lively sensations to the returns of joy. Having premised these observations, I
proceed to point out the direct effects of a proper attention to the distresses
of life upon our moral and religious character.
1. The house of mourning is calculated to give a proper check to our
natural thoughtlessness and levity. When some affecting incident presents a
strong discovery of the deceitfulness of all worldly joy, and rouses our
sensibility to human woe; when we behold those with whom we had lately mingled
in the house of feasting, sunk by some of the sudden vicissitudes of life into the
vale of misery; or when, in sad silence, we stand by the friend whom we had
loved as our own soul, stretched on the bed of death; then is the season when
the world begins to appear in a new light; when the heart opens to virtuous
sentiments, and is led into that train of reflection which ought to direct
life. He who before knew not what it was to commune with his heart on any
serious subject, now puts the question to himself, For what purpose he was sent
forth into this mortal, transitory state: what his fate is likely to be when it
concludes; and what judgment he ought to form of those pleasures which amuse
for a little, but which, he now sees, cannot save the heart from anguish in the
evil day?
2. Impressions of this nature not only produce moral seriousness, but
awaken sentiments of piety, and bring men into the sanctuary of religion. Formerly we were
taught, but now we see, we feel, how much we stand in need of an Almighty
Protector, amidst the changes of this vain world. Our soul cleaves to Him who despises
not, nor abhors the affliction of the afflicted. Prayer flows forth of its own
accord from the relenting heart, that He may be our God, and the God of our
friends in distress; that He may never forsake us while we are sojourning in
this land of pilgrimage; may strengthen us under its calamities. The
discoveries of His mercy, which He has made in the Gospel of Christ, are viewed
with joy, as so many rays of light sent down from above to dispel, in some
degree, the surrounding gloom. A Mediator and Intercessor with the Sovereign of
the universe, appear comfortable names; and the resurrection of the just
becomes the powerful cordial of grief.
3. Such serious sentiments produce the happiest effect upon our
disposition towards our fellow-creatures, as well as towards God. It is a
common and just observation, that they who have lived always in affluence and
ease, strangers to the miseries of life, are liable to contract hardness of
heart with respect to all the concerns of others. By the experience of distress,
this arrogant insensibility of temper is most effectually corrected; as the
remembrance of our own sufferings naturally prompts us to feel for others when
they suffer. But if Providence has been so kind as not to subject us to much of
this discipline in our own lot, let us draw improvement from the harder lot of
others. Let us sometimes step aside from the smooth and flowery paths in which
we are permitted be walk, in order to view the toilsome march of our fellows
through the thorny desert. By voluntarily going into the house of mourning; by
yielding to the sentiments which it excites, and mingling our tears with those
of the afflicted, we shall acquire that humane sensibility which is one of the
highest ornaments of the nature of man.
4. The disposition recommended in the text, not only improves us in
piety and humanity, but likewise assists us in self-government, and the due
moderation of our desires. The house of mourning is the school of temperance
and sobriety. Thou who wouldst act like a wise man, and build thy house on the
rock, and not on the sand, contemplate human life not only in the sunshine, but
in the shade. Frequent the house of mourning, as well as the house of mirth.
Study the nature of that state in which thou art placed; and balance its joys
with its sorrows. Thou seest that the cup which is held forth to the whole
human race, is mixed. Of its bitter ingredients, expect that thou art to drink
thy portion. Thou seest the storm hovering everywhere in the clouds around
thee. Be not surprised if on thy head it shall break. Lower, therefore, thy
sails. Dismiss thy florid hopes; and come forth prepared either to act or to
suffer, according as Heaven shall decree. Thus shalt thou be excited to take
the properest measures for defence, by endeavouring to secure an interest in
His favour, who, in the time of trouble, can hide thee in His pavilion. Thy
mind shall adjust itself to follow the order of His providence. Thou shalt be
enabled, with equanimity and steadiness, to hold thy course through life.
5. By accustoming ourselves to such serious views of life, our
excessive fondness for life itself will be moderated, and our minds gradually
formed to wish and to long for a better world. If we know that our continuance
here is to be short, and that we are intended by our Maker for a more lasting
state, and for employments of a nature altogether different from those which
now occupy the busy, or amuse the vain, we must surely be convinced that it is
of the highest consequence to prepare ourselves for so important a change. This
view of our duty is frequently held up to us in the sacred writings; and hence
religion becomes, though not a morose, yet a grave and solemn principle,
calling off the attention of men from light pursuits to those which are of eternal
moment. (H. Blair, D. D.)
The house of mourning
Jesus, our Almighty Saviour, authoritative Teacher and perfect
Exemplar, attended houses of feasting sometimes, but ever seemed more ready to
go to, and more at home in, houses of mourning. His example suggests that while
it may be good to visit the former, it is better to visit the latter.
I. It is better to
go to the house of mourning, than to the house of feasting, because we can get
more good there. We may get less good for the body, but we shall get more good
for the soul. We may get less to minister to our present pleasure, but we shall
get more that will minister to our future well-being. It is a schoolroom in
which great moral and spiritual lessons are very lucidly and very impressively
taught.
1. There we may thoroughly learn the terrible evil of sin.
2. There we best learn the vanity of the creature.
3. There we may best learn the value of time.
4. There we may learn the present blessedness of true personal
religion.
II. It is better to
go to the house of mourning than to the house of feasting, because we can do
more good there. Every man should be as much concerned about doing good as
about getting good. In fact, doing good is one of the most certain ways of
getting good. But, even apart from that, the man who has received great good
from God should endeavour to dispense good to his fellow-men, and we can
generally do more good in the house of mourning than we can in the house of
feasting. For in the latter men are so given over to the business of pampering
their bodies that they are usually little disposed to heed anything you may
venture to say about the salvation of their souls. But in the house of
mourning, where poverty, sickness or death has been busy, if you have shown an
unmistakable interest in the family’s temporal welfare, you will usually find
them disposed to listen to what you may have to say about their spiritual and
eternal welfare. Thus shall you scatter much sorrow and let in much peace and
comfort. Thus shall you benefit your fellow-creatures, enrich your own souls,
and glorify that Christ who died for your salvation. (John Morgan.)
On the dangers of pleasure
Sensual pleasures are among the most dangerous enemies of virtue.
But, ardent and prone to excess, they require to be subjected to a prudent and
holy vigilance, and to be indulged with caution and circumspection.
I. Much indulgence
in pleasure tends to weaken that watchfulness and guard, which a wise and good
man will find it necessary always to maintain over himself. Pleasure seldom
admits wisdom of her party. The wand of truth which she carries, would destroy
all those unreal images and airy visions with which the deluded voluptuary is
surrounded. There the heart is thrown loose from restraint, and laid open to
the lively and warm impression of every seducing idea. Men abandon themselves
without suspicion to the sweet neglect, and through the unguarded avenues enter
a multitude of enemies, who were only lying in wait for this decisive moment.
II. Pleasure not
only impairs the guard which a wise man should constantly maintain over his
heart, but often lays it open to too strong temptations. Of this David affords
us an instructive and affecting example. How much more certainly will pleasure
corrupt those, who enter its purlieus without circumspection, and expose
themselves unguarded to all the dangerous force of its temptations in the house
of feasting! Here example, and sympathy, all the arts of seduction, all the
allurements of ingenuity, all the decorations that wit can give to vice, unite
their influence to betray the heart.
III. Scenes of
pleasure and indulgence tend to impair the sentiments of piety towards God. A
continual succession of pleasures is apt to efface from the mind that sentiment
of dependence upon the Creator, so becoming the state of man. The mind, humbled
by suffering, enjoys the smallest mercy with gratitude; while the greatest, by
proud prosperity, is first abused and then forgotten.
IV. High and
constant pleasures are unfriendly to the exercise of the benevolent affections.
They tend to contract and harden the heart. The importunities of want, the
sighs of wretchedness, are unwelcome intruders on the joyous festival. Who are
disposed to seek out the retreats of sorrow and distress, and to administer
there those consolations which the afflicted require? Are they not those who
have themselves been educated in the school of misfortune, and who have been
taught, by their own feelings, the claims of suffering humanity? Are they not
those who often turn aside from the prosperous course, which Providence permits
them to bold through life, to visit the receptacles of human wretchedness, and
to carry comfort into the habitations of penury and disease? Who learn there to
feel what is due to human nature? Pleasure is selfish. Attracting everything
into its own centre, it loosens the bonds of society. Hence it is that luxury
hastens the ruin of nations in proportion as it makes the love of pleasure the
reigning character of their manners.
V. Pleasures tend
to enfeeble the principle of self-government. Self-denial is necessary to
self-command. In the midst of moderate enjoyments and corrected appetites, the
sentiments of duty have opportunity firmly to root themselves, and to acquire
ascendancy among the other principles of the heart, unrestrained indulgence
corrupts them. And the passions, growing inflamed and ungovernable, hurry away
their weak captives over all the fences of prudence as well as of piety.
Moderation and self-denial are necessary to restore the tone of nature, and to
create the highest relish even of the pleasures of sense.
VI. Pleasure is
unfavourable to those serious reflections upon our mortal condition, and the
instability of all human things, so useful to prepare the soul for her immortal
destination. It is only when we recollect that we are united to this world by a
momentary tie, and to the next by eternal relations, that we shall despise, as
reasonable beings ought to do, the fantastic occupations of the dissipated and
the idle, and cultivate the solid and immortal hopes of piety. These are
lessons not taught in the house of seating. (S. S. Smith, D. D.)
Verse 3
Sorrow is better than laughter.
Sorrow better than laughter
Sorrow is set over against laughter; the house of mourning over
against the house of mirth; the rebuke of the wise over against the music of
fools; the day of death over against the day of birth: all tending, however, to
this, that trouble and grief have their bright side, and that giddy indulgence
and merriment carry a sting.
I. Sorrow is
better than laughter, because a great part of worldly merriment is no better
than folly. Here we take no extreme or ascetic ground. It would be morose and
unchristian to scowl at the gambols of infancy, or to hush the laugh of youth,
on fit occasions. Cheerfulness is nowhere forbidden, even in adult life; and we
perhaps offend God oftener by our frowns than by our smiles. But you all know
that there is a merriment which admits no rule, confines itself by no limit,
shocks every maxim even of sober reason, absorbs the whole powers, wastes the
time, and debilitates the intellect, even if it do not lead to supreme love of
pleasure, profligacy, and general intemperance and voluptuousness.
II. Sorrow is
better than laughter, because much of worldly merriment tends to no
intellectual or moral good. Worldly pleasures, and the expressions of these, do
nothing for the immaterial part. The utmost that can be pretended is that they
amuse and recreate. In their very notion they are exceptions, and should be
sparing. But there are a thousand recreative processes connected with healthful
exercise, with knowledge, with the study of beautiful nature, with the practice
and contemplation of art, and with the fellowship of friends, which unbend the
tense nerve and refresh the wasted spirits, while at the same time they
instruct the mind and soften or tranquillize the heart. Not so with the
unbridled joys which find vent in redoubled peals of mirth and obstreperous
carousal, or in the lighter play of chattered nonsense end never-ending giggle.
III. Sorrow is
better than laughter, because worldly mirth is short. In the Eastern countries,
where fuel is very scarce, every combustible shrub, brush, and bramble is
seized upon for culinary fires. Of these the blaze is bright, hot, and soon
extinct. Such is worldly mirth. “For as the crackling of thorns under a pot, so
is the laughter of the fool.” It is noisy--more noisy than if there were
anything in it. But it soon ceases. Physical limits are put to gay pleasures.
The loudest laughter cannot laugh for ever. Lungs and diaphragm forbid and
rebel. There is a time of life when such pleasures become as difficult as they
are ungraceful; and there is not in society a more ridiculous object, even in
its own circle, than a tottering, antiquated, bedizened devotee of fashion.
Grief comes in and shortens the amusement. Losses and reverses shorten it. And,
if there were nothing
else, pleasure must be short, because it cannot be extended to judgment and
eternity.
IV. Worldly mirth
is unsatisfying. “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity,” i.e.
emptiness and disappointment. The man wonders why the toys and rattles which
pleased him once please him now no more. They are vanity, and all is vanity;
and every day that he lives longer will make it more formidable vanity. Now,
pray observe, the case is directly the reverse with regard to sound
intellectual and spiritual enjoyments; for which the capacity is perpetually
increasing with its indulgence.
V. Sorrow is
better than laughter, because sorrow breeds reflection. There can be no
contemplation amidst the riot of self-indulgence; but the house of mourning is
a meditative abode. Before they were afflicted, a large proportion of God’s
people went astray; and, if they live long enough, they can all declare that
the solemn pauses of their bereavement, illness, poverty, shame, and fear, have
been better to them than the dainties of the house of feasting.
VI. Sorrow is
better than laughter, because sorrow brings lessons of wisdom. Sufferers not
only think but learn. Many sermons could not record all the lessons of
affliction. It tells us wherein we have offended. It takes us away from the
flattering crowd, and from seducing charmers, and keenly reaches, with its
probe, the hidden iniquity. This is less pleasing than worldly joy, but it is
more profitable. The Bible is the chief book in the house of mourning--read by
some there who have never read it elsewhere, and revealing to its most
assiduous students new truths, shining forth in affliction like stars which
hays been hidden in daylight.
VII. Sorrow is
better than laughter, because sorrow amends the heart and life. Not by any
efficiency of good; of such efficiency, pain, whether of body or mind, knows
nothing; but by becoming the vehicle of Divine influences. The ways of
Providence are such, that troubled spirits, bathed in tears, are repeatedly
made to cry with a joy which swallows up all foregoing griefs, “Before we were
afflicted we went astray, but now have we kept Thy law!”
VIII. Sorrow is
better than laughter, because sorrow likens us to Him whom we love. You know
His name. He is the Man of Sorrows--the companion or brother of grief. His
great work, even our salvation, was not more by power or holiness than by
sorrows. He took our flesh that He might bear our sorrows. If we suffer with
Him, we shall also reign with Him.
IX. Sorrow is
better than laughter, because sorrow ends in joy. The very resistance of a
virtuous mind to adversity--the bracing of the frame--the breasting of the
torrent--the patience, the resignation, the hope amidst the billows, the high
resolve and courage that mount more boldly out of the surge of grief, the
silent endurance of the timid and the frail, when out of weakness they are made
strong--these, and such as these, increase the capacity for future holiness and
heavenly bliss. “These are they that have come out of great tribulation.” (J.
W. Alexander, D. D.)
The service of sorrow
I. Sorrow serves
to promote individualism of soul.
1. A deep practical sense of self-responsibility is essential to the
virtue, the power, and progress of the soul.
2. Social influences, especially in this age of combinations, tend to
destroy this and absorb the individual in the mass.
3. Sorrow is one of the most individualizing of forces. Sorrow
detaches man from all, isolates him, makes him feel his loneliness.
II. Sorrow serves
to humanize our affections. It helps us go feel for others; to “weep with those
who weep,” etc.
III. Sorrow serves
to spiritualize our nature. There are tremendous forces ever at work to
materialize. Sorrow takes us away into the spiritual; makes us feel alone with
God, and view the world as but a passing show.
IV. Sorrow serves
to prepare us to appreciate christianity. The Gospel is a system to “heal
broken hearts.” Who appreciates pardon, but the sorrowing penitent? Who values
the doctrine of a parental providence, but the tried? Who the doctrine of the
resurrection, but the bereaved and the dying? (Homilist.)
Verse 4
The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning.
The advantages of visiting the mansions of distress
For so valuable a purpose it is well worth while to bear with all
the gloominess of the house of mourning. For most useful lessons will the heart
of the wise be able to learn there; and excellent rules of conduct, with
respect to himself, to the memory of those who are deceased, and to such as
they have left behind them.
1. With respect to himself. “Death is the end of all men, and the
living will lay it go his heart.” It is because we do not lay it to our hearts
that we most of us go on just as if we imagined there was to be no end at all;
and though we do not, indeed, speculatively think so, yet we live and act upon
that supposition; and our knowing it to be a false one hath no manner of
influence for want of reflecting upon it as such. This could not be would we
but stop a little at the house of mourning; and make the most obvious of all
reflections there, from contemplating the end of others, how very quickly our
own end may come, and how soon it must. Such thoughts will enliven our
diligence in performing our duty here; in working, while it is day, the works
of Him that sent us. And as the thoughts of death are excellently fitted to
compose the vehemence of our other passions, so they are fitted particularly to
check that very sinful kind of vehemence, which we are exceedingly prone to
express, one against another. Another instruction, which the heart of the wise
will learn in the house of mourning, is, never to flatter himself with
expectations of any lasting good in a state so uncertain as this. You see,
therefore, what improvement the heart of the wise may receive from a general
consideration of the end of all men. But the further view of the different ends
of different men is a subject of yet further advantage.
2. The heart of the wise, whilst it dwells in the house of mourning,
will not only improve itself in a general sense of Christian piety, but also
more especially in such precepts of it as constitute a proper behaviour with
respect to the memory of those whose departure is at any time the object of our
thoughts. The dead, indeed, are out of our reach: our goodness extends not to
them, and our enmity can do them no harm. But for the sake of common justice
and humanity, we are bound to the amiable duties of stowing candour in regard
to their failings, and paying the honour which is due to their merit.
3. We may learn, from a considerate meditation on the examples of
mortality, very useful instructions for our behaviour, not only with respect to
the deceased, but those whom they have left behind any way peculiarly related
to them. The death of a wise and good, of a near and affectionate friend, is
unspeakably the greatest of all calamities. Whoever is capable of these
reflections, if he allows himself time to make them, will sincerely pity all
that have suffered such a loss, and equally esteem all that show they are
sensible of it. (T. Secker.)
Better is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof.
The new year
The text expresses the general principle or doctrine, that by the
condition of our existence here, if things go right, a conclusion is better
than a beginning. The fruit is better than the blossom; the reaping is better
than the sowing; the enjoyment than the reaping; the second stage of a journey
to the happy home is better than the first; the home itself than all; the
victory is better than the march and the battle; the reward is better than the
course of service; the ending in the highest improvement of means is better
than being put at first in possession of them. In all this we see it is conditionally, and
not absolutely, that “the end is better than the beginning.” Now let us
consider in a short series of plain particulars what state of the case would
authorize us at the end of the year to pronounce this sentence upon it.
1. It will easily occur as a general rule of judgment on the matter,
that the sentence may be pronounced if, at the end of the year, we shall be
able, after deliberate conscientious reflection, to affirm that the year has
been, in the most important respects, better than the preceding.
2. The sentence will be true if, during the progress of the year, we
shall effectually avail ourselves
of the lessons suggested by a review of the preceding year.
3. At the close of this year, should life be protracted so far, the
text will be applicable, if we can then say, “My lessons from reflection on the
departed year are much less painful, and much more cheering than at the close
of the former”: if we can say this
without any delusion from insensibility, for the painfulness of reflection may
lessen from a wrong cause; but to say it with an enlightened conscience to
witness, how delightful! To be then able to recall each particular, and to
dwell on it a few moments--“that was, before, a very painful
consideration--now,. . .” “This, again, made me sad, and justly so--now,. . .!”
“What shall I render to God for the mercy of His granting my prayer for
all-sufficient aid? I will render to Him, by His help, a still better year
next.” And let us observe, as the chief test of the true application of the
text, that it will be a true sentence if then we shall have good evidence that
we are become really more devoted to God.
4. If we shall have acquired a more effectual sense of the worth of
time, the sentence, “Better is the end of a thing than the beginning,” will be
true. Being intent on the noblest purposes of life will itself in a great
degree create this “effectual sense.” But there may require, too, a special
thought of time itself--a habit of noting it--because it is so transient,
silent, and invisible a thing. There may be a want of faith to “see this
invisible,” and of a sense of its flight. For want of this, and the sense, too,
of its vast worth, what quantities reflection may tell us we have wasted in
past years--in the last year! How important to have a powerful habitual
impression of all this! And if, this year, we shall acquire much more of this
strong habitual sense--if we become more covetous of time--if we cannot waste
it without much greater pain--if we shall, therefore, lose and misspend much
lees--then the text is true.
5. It will again be true if, with regard to fellow-mortals, we can
conscientiously feel that we have been to them more what Christians ought--than
in the preceding year. “I am become more solicitous to act toward you in the
fear of God. I am become more conscientiously regardful of what is due to you,
and set a higher importance on your welfare. I have exerted myself more for
your good. On the whole, therefore, I stand more acquitted towards you than I
have at the conclusion of any former season.”
6. Another point of superiority we should hope the end may have over
the beginning of the year, is that of our being in a better state of
preparation for all that is to follow. Who was ever too well prepared for
sudden emergencies of trial?--too well prepared for duty, temptation, or
affliction?--too well prepared for the last thing that is to be encountered on
earth?
7. It will be a great advantage and advancement to end the year with,
if we shall then have acquired more of a rational and Christian indifference to
life itself. “My property in life is now less by almost, 400 days; so much less
to cultivate and reap from. If they were of value, the value of the remainder
is less after they are withdrawn. As to temporal good, I have but learnt the
more experimentally that that cannot make me happy. I have, therefore, less of
a delusive hope on this ground as to the future. The spiritual good of so much
time expended I regard as transferred t,o eternity; so much, therefore, thrown
into the scale of another life against this. Besides, the remaining portion
will probably be, in a natural sense, of a much worse quality. Therefore, as
the effect of all this, my attachment to this life is loosening, and the
attraction of another is augmenting.” (John Foster.)
The end of a good man’s life is better than the beginning
I. At the end of
his life he is introduced into a better state.
1. He begins his life amidst impurity. The first air he breathes, the
first word he hears, the first impression he receives, are tainted with sin;
but at its end he is introduced to purity, saints, angels, Christ, God!
2. He begins his life on trial. It is a race--shall he win? It is a
voyage--shall he reach the haven? The end determines all.
3. He begins his life amidst suffering “Man is born to trouble.”
II. At the end of
his life he is introduced into better occupations. Our occupations here are
threefold--physical, intellectual, moral. All these are more or less of a painful
kind. But in the
state into which death introduces us, the engagements will be congenial to the
tastes, invigorating to the frame, delightful to the soul and honouring to God.
III. At the end of
his life he is introduced into better society. We are made for society. But
society here is frequently insincere, non-intelligent, unaffectionate. But how
delightful the society into which death will introduce us! We shall mingle with
enlightened, genuine, warm-hearted souls, rising in teeming numbers, grade above
grade, up to the Eternal God Himself. (Homilist.)
The patient in spirit is
better than the proud in spirit.--
The power of patience
The lion was caught in the toils of the hunter. The more he
tugged, the more his feet got entangled; when a little mouse heard his roaring,
and said that if his majesty would not hurt him, he thought he could release
him. At first the king of beasts took no notice of such a contemptible ally;
but at last, like other proud spirits in trouble, he allowed his tiny friend to
do as he pleased. So one by one the mouse nibbled through the cords till he had
set free first one foot and then another, and then all the four, and with a
growl of hearty gratitude the king of the forest acknowledged that the patient
in spirit is sometimes stronger than the proud in spirit. And it is beautiful
to see how, when some sturdy nature is involved in perplexity, and by its
violence and vociferation is only wasting its strength without forwarding its
escape, there will come in some timely sympathizer, mild and gentle, and will
suggest the simple extrication, or by soothing vehemence down into his own
tranquillity, will set him on the way to effect his self-deliverance. Even so,
all through the range of philanthropy, patience is power. It is not the water-spout
but the nightly dew which freshens vegetation. They are not the flashes of the
lightning which mature our harvests, but the daily sunbeams, and that quiet
electricity which thrills in atoms and which flushes in every ripening ear.
Niagara in all its thunder fetches no fertility; but the Nile, coming without
observation, with noiseless fatness overflows, and from under the retiring
flood Egypt looks up again, a garner of golden corn. The world is the better
for its moral cataracts and its spiritual thunderbolts; but the influences
which do the world’s great work--which freshen and fertilize it, and which are
maturing its harvests for the garner of glory, are not the proud and potent
spirits, but the patient
and the persevering; they are not the noisy and startling phenomena, but the
steady and silent operations. (J. Hamilton, D. D.)
Verse 10
Say not thou, What is the cause that the former days were better
than these?
Mistaken signs
On the whole we may confidently affirm that the world improves,
and yet in certain moods we are apt to regard its conditions as increasingly
desperate. Thus is it sometimes with our religious life--we mistake the signs
of progress for those of retrogression, and through this mistake de injustice
to ourselves.
1. “I am not so happy as I once was,” is a lament from Christian lips with which
we are almost distressingly familiar. We look back to our conversion, to the
glittering joy which welled up in our soul in those days, and the memory moves
us to tears. Then “all things were apparelled in celestial light, the glory and
the freshness of a dream.” Then we turn to consider tile present phases of our
experience, and conclude sadly that we are not so happy now as then--all the
gold has changed to grey. Now, is this really so? We fully allow that it may be
so. Through unfaithfulness we may have lost the joy and power of the days when
first we knew the Lord. But may not the mournful inference be mistaken, and
what we regard as a diminished happiness be really a profounder blessedness?
The essence of religion is submission to the will of God, and that grave
tranquillity of mind which follows upon deeper self-renunciation, the chastened
cheerfulness which survives the strain and strife of years, is a real, although
not perhaps seeming, gain upon the first sparkling experiences of our devout
life.
2. “I am not so holy as I once was,” is another note of
self-depreciation with which we are unhappily familiar, and with which,
perhaps, we are sometimes disposed to sympathize. When we first realized
forgiveness, we felt that there was “no condemnation” if the Spirit of God
seemed to hallow our whole nature; our heart was cleansed, and strangely glowed.
But it is not so now. We have not done all we meant to do, not been all we
meant to be, and have a consciousness of imperfection more vivid than ever.
With the lapse of years we have grown more dissatisfied with ourselves; and
this more acute sense of worldliness leads us to the conclusion that we have
lest the rarer purity of other days. Once more we admit that this may be the
case. There may be a very real depreciation in our life; we may have allowed
our raiment to be soiled by the world and the flesh. But may not this growing
sense of imperfection be a sign of the perfecting of our spirit? It may be that
we are not less pure than formerly, only the Spirit of God has been opening our
eyes, heightening our sensibility, and faults once latent are now discovered;
the clearer vision detects deformities, the finer ear discords, the pure taste
admixtures which were once unsuspected. It is possible to be growing in moral
strength and grace, in everything that constitutes perfection of character and
life, when appearances are decidedly to the contrary. Watch the sculptor and
note how many of his strokes seem to mar the image on which he works, rendering
the marble more unshapely than it seemed the moment before, and yet in the end
a glorious statue rises under his hand; so the blows of God, bringing us into glorious grace,
often seem as if they were marring what little symmetry belonged to us, often
as if knocking us out of shape altogether.
3. “I do not love God as I once did,” is another sorrowful confession
of the soul. How glowing was that first level Your whole soul went out after
the Beloved! But it is not so now. The temperature of your soul seems to have
fallen, your love to your God and Saviour does not glow as in those memorable
hours when first it was kindled “by the spirit of burning.” Once again, it may
be so. The Church at Ephesus had “left” its “first love,” and we may not
cherish the same fervid affection for God which once filled and purified our
heart. But may we not misconceive the love we bear to God? Our more
dispassionate affection may be equally genuine and positively stronger. Our
love to God may not be so gushing, so florid in expression as it once was, but
in this it only bears the sober hue of all ripened things.
4. “I do not make the rapid progress I once did,” is another familiar
regret. Once we had the pleasing sense of swift and perpetual progress. Each day we went from
strength to strength, each night knew our “moving tent a day’s march nearer
home.” But we have not that sense of progress now, and this fact is to us,
perhaps, a great grief. Our grief may be well founded; for those who “did run
well” are sometimes “hindered” and fall into slowest pace. Yet impatience with
our rate of progress is capable of another construction. Our first experiences
of the Christian life are in such direct and striking contradistinction to the
earthly life that our sense of progress is most vivid and delightful; but as we
climb heaven, get nearer God, traverse the infinite depths of love and
righteousness sown with all the stars of light, the sense of progress may well
be less definite than when we had just left the world behind. And in
considering our rate of progress, we must not forget that the sense of progress
is regulated by the desire for progress. (W. L. Watkinson.)
Vain thoughts concerning the past
What a softening power there is in distance; how often an object,
on which you gazed with great delight while beheld afar off, will lose its
attractiveness when it is brought near. Every admirer of the natural landscape
is thoroughly conscious of this. Now, we are inclined to suppose that there is
much the same power in distance, with regard to what we may call the moral
landscape, which is so universally acknowledged with regard to the natural. We
believe that what is rough becomes so softened, and what is hard so mellowed
through being viewed in the retrospect, that we are hardly fair judges of much
on which we bestow unqualified admiration. If, however, it were only the
softening power of distance which had to be taken into the account, it might be
necessary to caution men against judging without making allowance for this
power, but we should scarcely have to charge it upon them as a fault, that they
looked so complacently on what was far back. But from one cause or another men
become disgusted with the days in which their lot is cast, and are therefore
disposed to the concluding that past days were better. Whence does it arise
that old people are so fond of talking of the degeneracy of the times, and referring
to the days when they were young, as days when all things were in a healthier
and more pleasing condition? If you were to put implicit faith in the
representations you would conclude that there was nothing which had not changed
for the worse, and that it was indeed a great misfortune that you had not been
born half a century sooner. And here comes into play the precept of our
text--“Say not thou, What is the cause that the former days were better than
these? for thou dost not inquire wisely concerning this.” To quote the words of
a brilliant modern historian: “The more carefully we examine the history of the
past, the more reason shall we find to dissent from those who imagine that our
ago has been fruitful of new social evils. The truth is, that the evils are,
with scarcely an exception, old. That which is new is the intelligence which
discerns them, and the humanity which relieves them.” But we shall speak only
of the religious advantages of different times, in endeavouring to prove “that
the former days” were not “better than these.”
1. And first, it ought to be carefully observed in regard of human
nature that it did not grow corrupt by degrees, but became all at once as bad
as it was ever to be. The being who had been formed in the very image of his Maker
became instantly capable of the most heinous of crimes; and so far was human
nature from requiring long familiarity with wickedness, in order to the
learning to commit it in its most atrocious shapes, that well nigh its first
essay after apostatizing from God was one which still fills us with horror,
notwithstanding our daily acquaintance with a thousand foul deeds. Sin was
never an infant; it was a giant in the very birth; and forasmuch as we should
have had precisely the same evil nature whensoever we had lived, it would be
very hard to show that any former period would have been better for us than the
present. You may fix on a time when there was apparently less of open
wickedness, but this would not necessarily have been a better time for individual
piety. The religion of the heart, perhaps, flourishes most when there is most
to move to zeal for the insulted law of God. Or you may fix upon a time when
there was apparently less of misery; but we need not say that this would not
necessarily have been a better time for growth in Christian holiness, seeing
that confessedly it is amidst the deepest sorrows that the strongest virtues
are produced. So that if a man regard himself as a candidate for immortality,
we can defy him to put his finger on an age of the past, in which, as compared
with the present, it would necessarily have been more advantageous for him to
live.
2. Now, we are quite aware that this general statement does not
exactly meet the several points which will suggest themselves to an inquiring
mind; but we propose to examine next certain of the reasons which might be
likely to lead men to a different conclusion from that which seems stated in
our text. And here again we must narrow the field of inquiry, and confine
ourselves to points in which, as Christians, we have an especial interest.
Would any former days have been better days for us, estimating the superiority
by the superior facilities for believing the Christian religion, and acquiring the
Christian character? In answering such a question, we must take separately the
evidences and the truths of our holy religion. And first, as to the evidences.
There is a very common and a very natural feeling with regard to the evidences
of Christianity, that they must have been much stronger and much clearer, as
presented to those who lived in the times of our Lord and of His apostles, than
as handed down to ourselves through a long succession of witnesses. Many are
disposed to imagine that if with their own eyes they could see miracles
wrought, they should have a proof on the side of Christianity far more
convincing than any which they actually have, and that there would be no room
whatever for a lingering doubt if they stood by a professed teacher from God,
whilst he stilled the tempest, or raised the dead. Why should such superior
power be supposed to reside in the seeing a miracle? The only thing to be sure
about is, that the miracle has been wrought. There are two ways of gaining this
assurance: the one is by the testimony of the senses, the other is by the
testimony of competent witnesses. The first, the testimony of the senses, is
granted to the spectator of a miracle; only the second, the testimony of
witnesses, to those who are not present at the performance. But shall it be
said that the latter must necessarily be less satisfactory than the former?
Shall it be said that those who have not visited Constantinople cannot be as
certain that there is such a city as others who have? The testimony of
witnesses may be every jot as conclusive as the testimony of your own senses.
Though, even if we were forced to concede that the spectator of a miracle has
necessarily a superiority over those to whom the miracle travels down in the
annals of well-attested history, we should be far enough from allowing that there
is less evidence now on the side of Christianity than was granted to the men of
some preceding age. Let it be, that the evidence of miracle is not so clear and
powerful as it was; what is to be said of the evidence of prophecy? Who will
venture to deny, that as century has rolled away after century, fresh witness
has been given to the Bible by the’ accomplishment of the predictions recorded
in its pages? The stream of evidence has been like that beheld in mystic vision
by Ezekiel, when waters issued out from the eastern gate of the temple. Yes,
the Christian religion now appeals to mightier proofs than when it first
engaged in combat with the superstitions of the world. Its own protracted
existence, its own majestic triumphs, witness for it with a voice far more
commanding than that which was heard when its first preachers called to the
dead, and were answered by their starting into life. Away, then, with the thought that it would
have been better for those who are dissatisfied with the evidences of Christianity,
had they lived when Christianity was first promulgated on earth. (H.
Melvill, B. D.)
Discontent with the present unreasonable
The matter in controversy is, the pre-eminence of the former times
above the present; when we must observe, that though the words run in the form
of a question, yet they include a positive assertion, and a downright censure.
1. That it is ridiculous to ask why former times are better than the
present, if really they are not better, and so the very supposition itself
proves false; this is too apparently manifest to be matter of dispute: and that
it is false we shall endeavour to prove.
2. I shall now take it in a lower respect; as a case disputable,
whether the preceding or succeeding generations are to be preferred; and here I
shall dispute the matter on both sides.
3. That admitting this supposition as true, that the former ages are
really the best, and to be preferred: yet still this querulous reflection upon
the evil of the present times, stands obnoxious to the same charge of folly:
and, if it be condemned also upon this supposition, I see not where it can take
sanctuary. Now that it ought to be so, I demonstrate by these reasons.
Former things not better
As we grow older we are more prone to look back into the past. Our
best days and brightest hours are those which have long since passed away. Most
of the old poets have written and sung of a golden age. But it was away in the
distant past. They have pictured it near the world’s beginning, in the days
when the human race was yet in its youth. And so every nation has had its
fancied golden age. Dreamers have dreamed of its charms. A time of peace, and
love, and joy, when the earth yielded all manner of fruits and flowers, and all
nations lived together in harmony and peace. And the Bible, too, tells of a
golden age in the far distant past. As our thoughts go back to that blessed
time, we can scarcely refrain from asking bitterly, “What is the cause that the
former days were better than these?” But in our text the wise man cautions us
that we do not inquire wisely concerning this. The tree is beautiful when it is
covered with blossoms. But is it not a richer, though a different kind of
beauty, when in autumn it is loaded with delicious fruit? The morning is
beautiful when the rising sun bathes stream and flood, hill and dale with his
glorious beams. But is it not another and a higher kind of beauty when, at the
close of day, the sun is slowly sinking in the west, like a king dying on a
couch of gold, and the fading hues of even light up the whole heavens with a
glory that seems to have come down from the New Jerusalem! The field is
beautiful when the fresh green blades appear, like a new creation, life out of
death. But it is another and a higher order of beauty when, instead of the
fresh young blade, you have the rich golden harvest. The spring is beautiful
with all its stores of bloom and fragrance and song. But is it not a higher
beauty, a more advanced perfection when the bloom of spring has given place to
the golden sheaves and plentiful stores of autumn? Life’s opening years may be
beautiful, but its close may be glorious. You may have seen the raw recruit,
fresh from his country home, setting out to join the war in a distant land. His
laurels are yet unsullied. The keen edge of his sword has never yet been
blunted. See him years afterward, when he comes home, after a long service in
some foreign land. His clothes are tattered and torn; his colours are in rags;
his steps are feeble and tottering; his brow is seamed and scarred; his sword
is broken. He seems but the wreck, the mere shadow of his former self. But in all that is
true, and noble, and unselfish, he is a braver and a better man. His courage
has been tried. The tinsel has been lost, but the fine gold all remains. And so
is it with the youthful Christian. In the first days of his profession, when he
has given his heart to Jesus for the first time, all his graces seem so fresh
and lovely All his being is filled with joy unspeakable. Years pass on. The
young professor grows into the aged Christian. His graces do not now seem so
fresh and beautiful as they did forty or fifty years ago. His feelings do not
flow out so steadily toward the Saviour whom he loves, nor do the tears come as
freely now as they did long ago when he sits down at the table of the Lord. You
would say that in his ease the former days were better than these. But you do
not inquire wisely concerning this. His last days are his best days. The
blossoms may have perished, but you have in their stead the mellow, luscious
fruit. The golden age of a nation is not always behind, lost in the myths of
its earliest existence. Years of conflict, ages of revolution, centuries of
daring and doing nobly, freedom’s battle bequeathed by bleeding sire to son,
through long decades of stern resistance to all oppression and tyranny. It is
through such a fiery discipline as this that a nation becomes truly great in
all those qualities that ennoble them in the sight of God. When they stand up
as the champions of right, the defenders of the oppressed, then are they
entering on their true golden age, the perfection of their national existence.
Nor is it true in regard to the world that its former days were better than
these. Its golden age has not all passed away. A still more glorious golden age
awaits it in the ages that are to come. The curse of sin is to be fully and for
ever removed. The old earth is to pass away. The destroying fire will burn out
the footprints of evil And God will make all things new. A new heaven and a new
earth. (J. Carmichael, D. D.)
Verse 12
The excellency of knowledge is, that wisdom giveth life to them
that have it.
Religious education
The argument which I shall advance on behalf of this and of all
other institutions with which it is the happiness of our country now to abound,
having a similar object in view--the supply of wholesome education for the
poor--is this, that, in providing instruction for the destitute, you confer on
them a much more precious gift than in giving them pecuniary supplies for the
relief of their outward and physical
necessities. To this mode of stating the case I have been led by observing the
remark of the wise man in the text--that “wisdom is a defence”--the possession
of solid, but more especially of religious knowledge,
1. As the means of protecting a man from many dangers and many
calamities “and money,” too, “is a defence”--as the medium of procuring the
outward necessaries and comforts of life, it has the power of saving its
possessor from numerous and painful sufferings and fears--but yet, if we
compare these two defences with one another, “the excellency,” the advantage
will be found upon the side of knowledge or wisdom, for this reason, “that
wisdom giveth life to them that have it.”
1. The blessing of education is a more valuable gift of charity to
the poor than the direct relief of their physical necessities, even in the way
of supplying them with the resources of natural life. The gift of money will,
no doubt, avail to procure the means of physical maintenance and enjoyment so
far as it goes, and so long as it lasts; but then it perishes in the using--it
has in it no self-preserving, no self-renewing power. What you give the poor man
to expend on food and raiment, clothes and supports him for a season; but then
food is consumed, and raiment waxes old, and it avails him no longer to
remember that he has been warmed, that he has been filled. He cannot feed on
the memory of food, nor yet array himself with that of clothing. But lay out,
on the other hand, a comparatively trivial sum in bestowing on the indigent
child, otherwise the heir of hopeless ignorance, a sound and suitable
instruction, and then you bestow on him a source of support and comfort which
really is inexhaustible. “Knowledge is power,” and being personal is permanent
power. It is in a man, and therefore continues with him whatever changes may
occur in his outward estate to strip him of that which is not inherent but
attached--not in but about him; the gift of education gives him a means of
support which is not exhausted by being used--which, if it is useful to-day,
was useful yesterday, and will be so to-morrow--which is self-preserving,
self-strengthening, self-renewing. And while, as the giver of life to those who
have it, knowledge thus excels money in respect of permanence--no less does the
former surpass the latter in respect of its efficiency. In the degree in which
education is judiciously conducted does it give a human being the command of
what are the highest, the mightiest, the most productive of human powers--the
faculties of the rational and immortal mind--faculties which, whether acting by
themselves or co-operating with corporeal energies to the production of what is
needful for the support, the comfort, the refreshment, the convenience of the
present state, give at once an elevated character, and an enlarged efficiency
to all the individual’s exertions and pursuits. By implanting, too, and
conforming, the habit of thinking--prospective, serious, considerate
thinking--which is one great aim and effect of education, you put into the
hands of man or woman what has been well denominated “the principle of all
legitimate prosperity.” Not these habits alone, however, but all moral and
religious principles are nursed and cherished by such an education as that of
which we speak--the activity and temperance which are the parents of
health--the industry and integrity, the benevolence and magnanimity, the
prudence and public spirit, the rectitude and love, of which the progeny are
substance, reputation, influence, domestic and social comfort--the morality
which is connected by so general a law even with worldly prosperity--the
godliness which “hath the promise of this life as well as of that which is to
come.”
2. While “wisdom” is a defence, and money is a defence, the
excellency of knowledge is, that wisdom giveth “intellectual” life to them that
have it. “It is of the nature of our intellectual, as of all our other powers,
to rust through want of use; so that in him who has never been accustomed to
employ his mind, the very mind itself seems to fall into dormancy, and the man
to become, at length, a merely sentient rather than a rational being. Have you
never witnessed cases in which the spirit has seemed thus steeped in
lethargy--persons who could be kept awake only by the necessity of manual
labour and the stimulants of sensual excitement, and who deprived of these,
seem to suffer the suspension of their whole spiritual existence, and sink
straightway into utter apathy and listlessness, finding no resources within
them to employ time, or keep alive attention, when the impulse from without has
disappeared--who employ their minds, such as they are, but as the slaves and
instruments of body, and have their whole being rightly defined, “of the earth,
earthy”? Now, to prevent this death, as it may be called, of the intellectual
soul within its clayey dungeon--whether it expire in stupefaction or in
agony--the only means you can employ is to supply it with that knowledge, “the
excellency of which is, that it giveth life to them that have it.” The capacity
of intellectual exercise must be early provoked, and stimulated, and directed.
The taste for intellectual enjoyment must be early implanted, and nourished,
and improved. In providing, then, the means of education for the else deserted
children of your city and your country, you are providing the only direct--the
absolutely necessary means of rendering them worthy of the name of rational and
intelligent creatures--of saving from being overborne and extinguished that
which defines them human beings. You may, peradventure, give the first impulse
to some master-mind which else might have remained for ever cramped and
fettered without command or consciousness of its latent powers, but which, let
loose by you, may mightily accelerate and advance the great march of human
improvement. You may, peradventure, kindle some luminous spirit which else must
have been finally absorbed amidst the gloom in which it had its birth, and
which shall stream far-darting and imperishable lustre to distant generations
and distant climes.
3. While we admit, in speaking of the case of our necessitous
fellow-creatures, “that money is a defence and wisdom a defence,” still we say
that “the excellency belongeth unto knowledge; because wisdom giveth
life”--life spiritual and eternal--“to those that have it.” It is “the key of
knowledge” that opens the kingdom of heaven; and if this be the constitution of
the Gospel, very plain it is that the state of a human soul abandoned to utter
ignorance is that of a soul devoted to inevitable death. Alas! what multitudes
are in this condition. But there is still another circumstance which darkens
and aggravates the view we are compelled to take of the spiritually deathful
power of ignorance, and it is this--that, especially amidst a condensed and
crowded population, those who grow up utterly uneducated are almost sure to
grow up openly profligate. The first and most direct consequence of their early
abandonment without the means of education is, that they are left to spend
their time in utter idleness. Led by idleness follows the twin-plague evil
company, under whose noxious breath every budding of thought or emotion
congenial to virtue grows sickly and expires, while every plant of deathful
odour and poisonous fruit expands into dense and overshadowing rankness. In
process of time such childish associations in childish folly and childish vice
ripen into combinations of licentiousness and leagues of iniquity. The means
are in your power of possibly, of probably averting so sad a catastrophe in a
multitude of cases. (J. B. Patterson, M. A.)
Christianity the guardian of human life
We may unhesitatingly charge upon heathenism, even if you keep out
of sight, its debasing effect upon morals, and think of it only as a system of
religious ceremonies and observances, the having a direct tendency to the
destroying men’s lives. It has not been merely amongst the more savage of
pagans, but also amongst those who have advanced far in civilization, that the
custom has prevailed of offering human sacrifices. The Grecians made great
progress in sciences and arts; yet it would seem to have been a rule with each
of their states to sacrifice men before they marched against an enemy. The
Romans, who emulated the Grecians in civilization, appear not to have been
behind them in the cruelties of their religion; even so late as in the reign of
Trajan, men and women were slain
at the shrine of some one of their deities. As to the heathenism of less
refined states, it would be easy to affix to it a yet bloodier character:
nothing, for example, could well exceed the massacres, connected with religious
rites, which appear to have been common among the nations of America: the
annual sacrifices of the Mexicans required many thousands of victims, and in
Peru two hundred children were devoted for the health of the sovereign. What a
frightful destruction of life[ But we should vastly underrate the influence of
Christianity in saving human life, were we merely to compute from the abolition
of the destructive rites of heathenism. The influence has been exerted in
indirect modes yet more than in direct. It has gradually substituted mild for
sanguinary laws, teaching rulers that the cases must be rare which justify the
punishing with death. And what but Christianity, giving sacredness to human
life, ever taught men to erect asylums for the sick and the aged? Add to this
the mighty advancings which have been made under the fostering sway of
Christianity in every department of science. And how wonderfully, in promoting
knowledge, has Christianity preserved life. The study of the body, of its
structure and diseases; acquaintance with the properties of minerals and
plants; skill in detecting the sources of pain, and applying remedies or
assuagements--all this would appear peculiar, in a great degree, to ,Christian
nations; as if there could be only inconsiderable progress in medical science,
whilst a land were not trodden by She alone Physician of the soul.. And need we
point out how knowledge of other kinds, cherished by Christianity, has
subserved the preservation of life? Witness astronomy, watching the mariner,
lest he be bewildered on the waters. Witness chemistry, directing the miner,
that he perish not by subterranean fires. Witness geography, with its maps and
charts, informing the traveller of dangers, and pointing him to safety. Witness
architecture, rearing the lighthouse on rooks, where there seemed no foundation
for structures which might brave the wild storm, and thus warning away navies
which must otherwise have perished. Witness machinery, providing for the
poorest what once the wealthy alone could obtain, the means of guarding against
inclement seasons, and thus preserving health when most rudely threatened. But
it were greatly to wrong Christianity as a giver of life, were we to confine
our illustrations to the bodies, in place of extending them go the souls of
men. We have higher evidence than any yet assigned, that Christianity is the
only wisdom which will answer the description contained in our text. It may be
said of the world, in every period of its history, “The world by wisdom knew
not God.” Our liability to punishment is discoverable by human wisdom, but the
possibility of our escaping it not without heavenly; and hence there is no
life-giving power in the former.
But the wisdom which the Holy Ghost continually imparts to such
as submit to His influence is, from first to last, a quickening, vivifying
thing. It makes the believer alive, in the sense of being energetic for God and
for truth; alive, as feeling himself immortal; alive, as having thrown off the
bondage of corruption; alive, as knowing himself “begotten again” “to an
inheritance that fadeth not away.” “I live,” said the great apostle, “yet not
I, but Christ liveth in me.” And life indeed it is, when a man is made “wise
unto salvation”: when, having been brought to a consciousness of his state as a
rebel against God, he has committed his cause unto Christ, “who was delivered
for our offences, and was raised again for our justification.” There is needed
only that, renouncing all wisdom of our own, we come unto God to be taught, and
we shall receive the gift of the Spirit, that Spirit which is breath to the soul,
quickening it from the death of nature, and causing its torpid energies and
perverted affections to rise to their due use, and fix on their due end. And
the excellency of this knowledge is, that, having it, you will have life. You
cannot have it, except in the heart; for no man knows Christ who knows Him only
with the head. And having this knowledge in the heart, you have renewal of the
heart; and with renewal of the heart forgiveness of sin, and the earnests of
immortality. Are we not now, therefore, able to vindicate in all its extent the
assertion of our text? In the former part of the verse the wise man had allowed
that “wisdom is a defence, and money is a defence.” But “riches profit not in
the day of wrath,” and “the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God.” But
they whose treasure has been above--they who have counted “all things but loss
for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ”--they shall have a defence, a
sure defence, when the rich man is destitute and the wise man speechless. They
have chosen that which cannot be taken away, and which, indeed, is then only
fully possessed, when everything else departs from human hold. As they soar to
inherit the kingdom obtained for them by Christ, and thus lay hold on an
immortality of joy through having acquainted themselves with Him as “the way,
the truth, and the life,” there may be none to say that “money is a defence,
and wisdom is a defence”--none to say it in the face of the confounding witness
of the elements melting with fervent heat, and of the shrinking away of those
who have been “wise in their own eyes, and prudent in their own sight”: but the
whole company of the redeemed shall be joined by the thousand times ten
thousand of the celestial host, in confessing and publishing that the excellency
of knowledge is, “that wisdom,” Christian wisdom, “giveth life to them that
have it.” (H. Melvill, B. D.)
In the day of prosperity be joyful, but in the day of adversity
consider.
Prosperity and adversity
The life of man is made up of prosperity and adversity, of
pleasure and pain, which succeed one another here below in an eternal rotation,
like day and night, summer and winter. Prosperity and adversity usually walk
hand in hand. The Divine providence hath joined them, and I shall not put them
asunder, but offer some remarks upon them both.
I. I begin with
the latter part of the sentence; in the day of adversity consider. In the day
of adversity we should consider whether we can free ourselves from it. For it
happens sometimes that whilst we complain, we have the remedy in our own hands,
if we had heart and the sense to make use of it; and then we cannot expect that
men or that God should assist us, if we are wanting to ourselves. But most
commonly adversity is of that nature, that it is not in our power to remove it;
and then we should consider how to lessen it, or how to bear it in the best
manner we can. We should consider that adversity, as well as prosperity, is
permitted or appointed by Divine providence. God hath so ordered the course of
things that there should be a mixture and a rotation of both in this world,
and, therefore, we ought to acquiesce in it, and to be contented that God’s
will be done. Submission, patience and resignation are of a calm and quiet
nature, and afford
some relief, composure and peace of mind; but repining and reluctance only
irritate the pain, and add one evil to another. To tell an afflicted person
that it must be so, may be thought a rough and an overbearing argument, rather
fit to silence than to satisfy a man. Therefore we should add this
consideration, not only that adversity is proper because God permits it, but
that God permits it because it is proper. Perhaps we have brought the adversity
upon ourselves, by our own imprudence and misconduct. If so, it is just that
God should suffer things to take their course, and not interpose to relieve us,
and we ought to submit to it, as to a state which we deserve. Nature, indeed,
will dispose us in such a case to discontent and to remorse; but religion will
teach us to make a good use of the calamity. God may suffer us to fall into
adversity by way of correction for our sins. If so, sorrowful we should be for
the cause, and sorrowful we may be for the effect; but we have many motives to
patience, resignation and gratitude.
It is much better that we should receive our punishment here than hereafter;
and if it produce any amendment in us, it serves to the best of purposes, and
ends in peace and joy and happiness. God may visit us with adversity, by way of
trial, and for our greater improvement, that we may correct some frailties and
faults into which prosperity hath led us, or of which it could never cure us,
that we may look upon the transitory vanities of the present world with more
coldness and indifference, and set our affections on things above, that we may
be humble and modest, and know ourselves, that we may learn affability,
humanity and compassion for those who suffer, and likewise that we may have a
truer taste for prosperity when it comes, and enjoy it with wisdom and
moderation. Upon all these accounts adversity is suitable to us, and tends to
our profit.
II. One of the ends
of adversity is to make us better disposed and qualified to receive the favours
of God, when they come, with prudence and gratitude, and, as Solomon directs us
in the other part of the text, to rejoice in the days of prosperity.
1. We ought to be in such a temper as to be easily contented, and to
account our state prosperous whenever it is tolerable.
2. We ought to remember that prosperity is a dangerous thing, that it
is a state which often perverts the judgment, and spoils the understanding, and
corrupts the heart, that it is never sincere and unmixed, that it is also of a
precarious nature, and may leave us in an instant. By being sober and sedate,
it will be more easily preserved, and the less liable to pass away, and to be
turned into sadness. The truest joy is an even cheerfulness, pleased with the
present, and not solicitous about the future.
3. We ought to consider what Solomon, who exhorts us to rejoice in
prosperity, hath represented as the most important point: Let us hear, says he,
the conclusion of the whole matter; Fear God, and keep His commandments; for
this concerns us all. This is what every man may do, and this is what every man
must do, and whosoever neglects it cannot be happy.
4. If we would rejoice in prosperity, we must acquire and preserve,
cherish and improve a love towards our neighbour, an universally benevolent and
charitable disposition, by which we shall be enabled to take delight not only
in our own prosperity, but in that of others; and this will give us several
occasions of satisfaction, which selfish persons never regard or entertain.
III. This subject
which we have been discussing is considered in a very different manner in the
old testament and in the new. Solomon, as a wise man, recommends it to his
nation to be cheerful in prosperity and considerate in adversity. Further than
this the wisdom and religion of his times could not conduct a man. But St.
Paul, when he treats the subject, exhorts Christians to rejoice evermore, and
consequently in adversity as well as in prosperity; our Saviour commands His
disciples to rejoice and to be exceeding glad when they should be ill used for
His sake; and it is said of the first believers, that they were sorrowful, yet
always rejoicing, and that they had in all circumstances an inward serenity, of
which nothing could deprive them.
1. Christianity represents God as a God of love and goodness, and
removes all gloomy and superstitious apprehensions of Him.
2. It represents Him, indeed, as a God of perfect purity, holiness
and justice, which must raise in mortal minds a dread proportionable to their
imperfections and offences, that is, to those imperfections which are indulged,
and to those offences which are wilful; but by the gracious doctrine of
forgiveness to the penitent it allays all tormenting terrors and excludes
despondence and despair.
3. It gives us rules of behaviour, which, ii carefully observed, have
a natural and necessary tendency to secure us from many sorrows, and enliven
our minds, and to set before us happy prospects and pleasing expectations.
4. It promises a Divine assistance under pressures and dangers, and
losses and afflictions, which shall raise the mind above itself and above all
outward and earthly things.
5. It promises an eternal recompense of well-doing, which whosoever
believes and expects must be happy, or at least contented in all times and
states: and without question, to a want of a lively faith, and of a reasonable
hope in this great point, and to a certain degree, more or less, of doubt and
diffidence, is to be principally ascribed the want of resignation and of
composure.
6. When to these Christian considerations are also added reflections
on the days of our abode here below, which are few, and on the world which
passeth away, a sedateness and evenness of temper will ensue, which as it is
patient and resigned under changes for the worse, so it is pleased with
prosperity, accepts it as a Divine blessing, and uses it soberly and
discreetly. (J. Jortin, D. D.)
Considerations
in adversity:--
I. The design of
the visitation. It includes--
1. Correction.
2. Prevention.
3. Trial or testing of character.
4. Instruction in righteousness.
5. Increased usefulness.
II. The relief
which God is ready to bestow.
1. Your afflictions are not peculiar. It is not “a strange thing that
has happened unto you.”
2. They happen not by chance. God’s wisdom plans, and His love
executes, them all.
3. They are not unmixed evil. “It is good for me that I have been
afflicted.”
4. They are not to endure always. Only for “a moment,” and then
heaven!
5. We are not asked to bear these afflictions alone. (Homiletic
Review.)
Compensations for a poor harvest
More than one person has said to me, in relation to the services
we hold to-day, “There is no harvest worth being thankful for this year.” We
are like children, ready enough to find fault with their parents’ arrangements,
but not so ready to be thankful for the daily care and love around them in the
home. These they take for granted. There is, if we have only eyes to discern
it, a wonderful law of compensation running through all things. It may be
discerned even in the recent harvest, failure though it seems to be. We may see
this if we remember that what is usually called the harvest is, after all, only
a part of the harvest of the year. The autumn is not the only harvest time,
though that may be specially the time of ingathering. All the year is, in
greater or less degree, productive. And this year, though a poor one in respect of the harvest of hay
and corn, is, if I mistake not, an exceptionally good one in respect of grass
and roots on which the cattle so largely depend for sustenance. There is
another aspect of the present year’s weather which should not be overlooked. We
have grumbled at the continuous downpour of rain; but let us not forget that
the rain which frustrated so many plans and caused so much anxiety, has
replenished the springs which, through the drought of last year, had become so
low that more than one English city came very near to a famine of water. And
this leads me to say that very often weather which is good for one part of tile
country, and for one kind of crop, is anything but good for another part and for another
kind of crop. And sometimes we must be content to suffer that others may
prosper, whilst when we prosper others must be content to suffer. We can’t have
it always our own way. Unbroken prosperity is not good for us men who are so
disposed to settle on our lees, and to cry, “I shall never be moved.” For let
us not forget that the Divine arrangements in the lower and material world have
reference to man’s higher nature. They are intended to be a means of moral and
spiritual discipline. And if it be so, and that it is, few who have carefully
observed life, will deny; then harvest disappointment will be often
counterbalanced by a more enduring spiritual gain. Ii earthly loss force us to
lift our eyes to the hills from whence cometh our help, then the gain is
greater than the loss. But this principle of compensation--that one thing is
set over against another--has wider applications. It seems to run through all
the Divine arrangements. It applies to the different positions and callings
among men--e.g. the rich seem to be the people to be envied; their lot
seems to have no drawbacks; they seem to have everything that heart can wish.
But riches do not ensure happiness; indeed, they too often lead men and women
to so purposeless a life, to such a neglect of work, that life becomes a
burden, and time hangs heavy on their hands. The poor man’s condition, on the
other hand, seems to be without any compensations--one utterly to be pitied.
But, as a matter of fact, except in extreme cases, the very necessity for
labour brings with it no small measure of happiness, for work has more of
pleasure in it than idleness. The happiest people are those who work, whether
such work be compulsory or voluntary. Nor is it otherwise with the different
callings of life. Those in which men have to work with the brain seem the
easiest and pleasantest, and those in which men have to work with their hands
the least to be desired. But work with the brain has its drawbacks. It develops
the nerves at the expense of the muscles. It brings a weariness of its own.
Whilst, on the other hand, work with the hand develops the muscles at the
expense of the nerves, and has its own kind of weariness. Then, too, the same
remark applies to the various ages. Youth longs for manhood, that it may escape
restraint; but when the restraint goes, responsibility begins. Manhood longs
for rest from toil; but when the time for rest comes, the vigour of life
usually wanes. In each season one thing must be set over against another--the
youth’s freedom from responsibility against the restraint under which he lives;
the vigour of manhood over against its toil; the rest of old age over against
its feebleness. There are very few conditions of life which have not their
compensations; and no estimate can be fair which does not take them into
account. Plato, in his “Gorgias,” says to Callieles, “I exhort you also to take
part in the grave combat, which is the combat of life, and greater than every
other earthly conflict.” And if it is to be that, it would not do for life to
be without drawbacks, disappointments, trials, changes. A life sheltered from
all these would
be a poor affair. But though these abound, yet there are always, or nearly
always, compensations, which show a gracious design even in the midst of the
discipline;that it is the order of One “who doth not afflict willingly, or
grieve the children of men.” The laws under which we live look stern and hard;
but in the heart of them is a loving purpose. (W. G. Herder.)
Hard times
“Hard times!” That is the cry we hear, all the week long, wherever
we go. And this, strange to say, in face of crops of unparalleled abundance!
1. We ask ourselves, what is the cause of these hard times? “Over-production,”
say some; others, “under-consumption.” One party blames a “high tariff”: the
other, “free trade.” I will not attempt to discues here the purely political or
economical aspects of the case. But there is a moral cause at work, which it is
the province of the pulpit to point out. At this moment, while commerce and
manufactures are nearly stagnant, the money market is glutted with funds that
cannot be used! Why? One answer is, for want of confidence. Monstrous frauds,
disgraceful failures, outright robberies, and numberless rascalities, small and
great, have paralyzed credit, and made sensitive capital shrink into itself. We
want more plodding and patient industry, more incorruptible honesty. No man can
revolutionize a community. But every good man has a certain power, more,
perhaps, than he thinks. It is the honest men who keep society from going to
pieces altogether.
2. Under cover of the proverb, “Desperate diseases require desperate
remedies,” certain wild proposals are put forward by professed “friends of the
working man,” who are really his worst enemies, whether they mean it or not.
Take, for example, the Socialist idea of abolishing private property in land or
anything else, making the State the universal proprietor and the universal employer,
and all men’s conditions equal. It is only under the maddening pressure of
hunger that just and reasonable men can entertain such schemes. In dragging
down “bloated monopolists,” we bury the day-labourer in the common ruin. It is
like setting fire to the house to get rid of the rats!
3. What a light is east by our present condition on the Bible
sayings, “We are members one of another”: “No man liveth unto himself!” We live
in a vast system of cooperation and interdependence. And this, whether we wish it
or not. The ends of the earth are ransacked to furnish food and clothing.
Sailors cross the seas, miners delve in the earth, woodmen hew down the
forests, farmers sow and reap, mechanics ply their tools, merchants buy and
sell, physicians study diseases and remedies, teachers instruct, authors write,
musicians sing, legislators make, judges administer and governors execute
laws--all for your benefit and mine. God has bound us up together, so many
wheels in a vast machine, different members of one body. You cannot break away
from it. It is as foolish as it is wicked to try to live apart, for ourselves
alone, to take and not to give, to expect good only, and to complain of
suffering through those around us.
4. That is a good time to “consider” what use we have made of past
times of “prosperity” in preparing for days of “adversity.” We must learn the
old-fashioned virtues of saving and “going without.” And these hard times are
sent, among other things, to drive that lesson home. Those who came from the
old and crowded lands of Europe are showing us examples in this that we should
be wise to follow.
5. We do well to ask ourselves at this time how far the words of God
by Malachi apply to our case: “Ye are cursed with a curse; for ye have robbed
Me.”. . . “Wherein? In tithes and offerings.”
6. Not all of us feel the full pressure of hard times. If you are not
thrown out of employment, if your pay is not reduced, if your investments yield
as much income, if your business is nearly or quite as profitable, what special
duties devolve upon you? First, great thankfulness to God. By the sharp sorrows
of your less fortunate neighbours learn how good He has been to you. Do not
think that if is because of your superior worth. One duly is to see that His
cause of the Gospel does not suffer--to give double because others can only
give one-half. Another is, to relieve the wants of deserving sufferers.
7. May I say a brotherly word to those who do feel the pressure of
the times? If is a hard discipline you are passing through, very hard. But
“your Father knoweth.” Money and goods are not everything. “A man’s life
consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he poseesseth.” Your
character, your soul, is more to you than your earthly condition. That is what
God is training, and the wide sweep of this providential dispensation,
affecting whole nations, also includes your individual case. Receive the
chastening. Submit without murmuring. Exercise your heart in the strong virtues
of patience and fortitude. “Hope thou in God.” “Walk by faith, not by sight.” (F.
H. Marling.)
Sunshine and shadow
I. First,
concerning this twofold word of exhortation. “In the day of prosperity be
joyful.” Prosperity then is not in itself an evil thing. Undue prosperity is
not to be coveted. “Give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with food
convenient for me.” But prosperity which is obtained in honest fashion,
accepted with a thankful heart, and employed for the glory of God, is surely
one of the best boons that Heaven itself can send. Further, gladsomeness is by
no means to be prohibited. Alas! for those who would stop our laughter. God
Himself is glad, His Gospel is glad; it is the Gospel of the glory of the happy
God. Christ Himself is joyous. Let your hearts have their sacred outpourings;
let your souls rejoice before the Lord in the land of the living. “Be joyful in
the Lord.” Spiritual prosperity is best of all. Be thankful and bless His name.
But the other part of the exhortation is not less necessary, and is, perhaps,
more appropriate to the most of my hearers. “In the day of adversity consider.”
What are we to consider? Not the adversity only. “Consider the work of God.” So
this adversity is the work of God. He may have employed agencies, but He is at
the back of them. Even the devil works in chains, and can do nought apart from
permission from the throne. “Consider the work of God.” Look away to first
causes, trace the stream to its source. When you think of this adversity as
being the work of God you come to the conclusion that it is all right, that it
is the best thing that could happen. It is better than prosperity if it is the
work of God.
II. Now we turn to
the second point, As observation. “God hath even made the one side by side with
the other.” Oh, what mercy there is here. If you had prosperity all the days of
your life it would be the ruin of you. He has woven our web of time with mercy
and with judgment. He has paved our path of life with mingled colours, so that
it is a mosaic, curiously wrought; sunshine and shadow have been our lot almost
from babyhood till now, and April weather has greeted us from the cradle, and
will be with us till the tomb. If this is true in daily life, it is true also
of religious experience. You must not be surprised that your way is up and
down. So far as we are responsible for it it should not be so. Spiritual
experience is of the switchback order after all, up towards heaven and down
into the deep, but it matters little if we are going onward all the time, and
upward to the glorious end. The Lord sets the one beside the other.
III. This word of
explanation as we end. Why has God allowed it thus to be? Why does He give us
joy to-day and grief to-morrow? It is that we may realize that His way is not
of a set pattern; that He works according to a programme of His own choosing; that
though He is a
God of order, that order may be very different from our order; that we may come
to no conclusion as to the probabilities of our experiences to-morrow, that we
may make no plans too far ahead; that we may not peer behind the curtain of
obscurity and futurity. (Thomas Spurgeon.)
Be not righteous overmuch.
The “righteous overmuch”
When the worldling sees another anxiously caring for the things of
his soul or attending earnestly to the duties of religion, he is apt to refer
to this text, and to say, “Be not righteous overmuch.” At first sight one might
imagine, that of this warning in this wicked world there can be no special
need. And if we search among our kinsfolk, shall we find many of whom we can
say, that they are “righteous overmuch”? Do we remember ever having heard, or
ever having met the man who has said, “I have boon ruined because I went to
church too often--because I have engaged continually in meditation and prayer”?
People seem to think that some degree of religion is necessary, but while they
admit the fact that some degree of religion is necessary, and will take care of
what is the minimum of faith and good works which will save them from
damnation, they accuse other persons, who think it safer to obey the Gospel
injunction which says, “go on unto perfection,” of the sin of being “righteous
overmuch.” But look a little forward. A few years hence, the Lord Jesus will
come again into this world to be our Judge. Before the judgment-seat of Christ,
Satan, the accuser of the brethren, will stand; by our side he will stand; and
when he says of any one, “I accuse him of being ‘righteous overmuch,’“ what think
you will be the decision of the Divine Judge? Will He say, “Oh, thou wicked
servant! thou hast been very scrupulous in thy conscience; thou hast prayed
seven times a day instead of twice; thou hast fasted sometimes as well as
prayed; thou hast gone to church every day, instead of confining thy devotions
to the Sunday; because of these things, on account of thy committing these
things, thou hast committed the great sin of being ‘righteous overmuch,’ and
therefore thou shalt be ‘cast into outer darkness, where there is weeping and
gnashing of teeth’; ‘depart from Me,’ ye ‘righteous overmuch,’ ‘into
everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels’”? The very thought of
such a judgment proceeding from the mouth of the all-righteous Judge is so
monstrous that we have only to state the case as I just have done, and by that
statement we show the folly as well as the iniquity of those who would lower
the tone of religion among us by this fear, lest their neighbours should commit
this imaginary sin of being “righteous overmuch.” It is said, again, that too
much religion makes men morose; and there are pretenders to religion both
censorious and morose. Some, perhaps a vast number of those who assume to
themselves the character of being religions, are like the Pharisees of old,
mere hypocrites, men who deceive themselves by supposing that under the cloak
of religion they may freely indulge the worst and most malignant passions of
their nature. We frankly admit that they who preach against being “righteous
overmuch” have here their strongest ground. But deal fairly with this case
also--is it religion that has made these men what they are? Were they not
morose in temper before they pretended to be religious? Were they not crafty in
their dealings with the world before they became deceivers in things spiritual?
You do not know any one who, having been frank, generous, disinterested,
noble-hearted before his conversion, has become morose because he has learnt to
love his God as well as his neighbour, and enthusiastically to labour for the
promotion of his Saviour’s glory. It is true, he takes a new view of the
amusements of the world; but is that of necessity a morose view? It is not
moroseness but advancement, that raises the true Christian above the things of
this world, which’ renders him independent of external things, while he can affectionately
sympathize with those who are now what he once was, and whom he hopes to see
ere long, by the mercy of God, even further advanced than he himself as yet may
be. For true Christianity rejoices in the spiritual progress of another.
Perhaps it may occur to some that in speaking thus I am speaking rather against
than for the text. But it is merely against a wrong interpretation of the text
that I am preaching. One part of our text shows at once that it is not to be
understood literally--that part which says, “make not thyself over-wise.” Now,
they who are very fearful lest they should be over-righteous, are seldom
alarmed on the score of their being over-wise. I call upon you to dismiss from
your mind all idle fears lest you should become “righteous overmuch”: and in
the name of our God, I exhort you to take good heed, lest you become overmuch
wicked, and be not righteous enough. Oh! here is the real danger; this is the
sin against which we have really need to be warned. And, ask you, how are you
to know whether you are righteous enough? That is a question to which neither I
nor any one else can give an answer. What, then, is the conclusion but
this--“be as righteous as you possibly can; go on improving; seek to grow in
grace; attend to little things, as well as great; be always careful lest you
should not be righteous enough, if God were this day to require your soul of
you. Be very careful lest you should be overmuch wicked; let no man scare you
from your duty, in seeking to advance in the straight and narrow path, which
leadeth unto life, by their suggestions that ye be not “righteous overmuch.” (Dean
Hook.)
Strained piety
This text may fairly be taken as a warning against strained piety.
It is a common thing for religion to run wild; for goodness to be pushed on
wrong lines; for it to be strained, arbitrary, inharmonious, and exaggerated.
I. It sometimes
reveals itself in doctrinal fastidousness. Paul writes to Timothy, “Hold fast the
form of sound words, which thou hast heard of me, in faith and love which is in
Christ Jesus.” Hold fast the form, the pattern. The religion of Christ finds
expression in the definite, the concrete, the intelligible. But some of us are
not content until we have etherealized the great articles of our faith, made
our creed vague, intangible, and generally such as it is not possible for a man
to utter. De Quincey said of Coleridge, touching the poet’s endless refinements
and transcendentalisms, “He wants better bread than can be made with wheat.”
That is rather a common failure in our day, and especially with men of a
certain temper. They refine and sublimate their creed until they nearly lose
hold of the substantial saving verity.
II. It reveals
itself in morbid introspectiveness. There is, of course, such a thing as a just
introspection, that a man looks closely into his own heart and life. It is,
indeed, a solemn duty that we should examine ourselves in the sight of God. And
yet this duty is often misconceived and pressed to false issues. Men sometimes
get morbid about the state of their health. For example, there are the people
who are always weighing themselves. Their feelings go up or down with their
weight; they are the sport of their gravity. We all feel that such solicitude
is a mistake; it is the sign of a morbid, miserable condition. But good people
are, not rarely, victims of a similar morbidity: jealous about their religious
state, curious about obscure symptoms, always with beating heart putting themselves
into the balances of the sanctuary. This habit may prove most hurtful. It makes
men morally weak and craven; it destroys their peace; it robs their life of
brightness.
III. It reveals
itself in an exacting conscientiousness. It was said of Grote that “he suffered
from a pampered conscience.” Many good people do. A fastidious moral sense. It
is a legal maxim that “the law concerneth not itself with trifles,” and the
court is specially impatient of “frivolous and vexatious” charges. But some of
us are evermore arraigning ourselves at the bar of conscience about arbitrary,
frivolous, vexatious things. It is a great mistake. A true and noble conscience
is tender, quick, incisive, imperative; but it is also large, majestic,
generous, as is the eternal law of which it is the organ. We cannot pretend to
go through life with a conscience akin to those delicate balances which are
sensitive to a pencil-mark; if we attempt such painful minuteness, we are
likely to be incapable of doing justice to the weightier matters of the law.
IV. This strained
piety not rarely reveals itself in the inordinate culture of some special
virtue. For some reason or other a man conceives a special affection for a
particular excellence; it engrosses his attention; it shines in his eye with
unique splendour. But this extreme love for any one virtue may easily become a
snare. A literary botanist says, “Most of the faults of flowers are only
exaggerations of some right tendency.” May not the same be said about the
faults of some Christians?
V. It reveals
itself in striving after impracticable standards of character. It is a fine
characteristic of Christianity that it is so sane, reasonable, practical,
humane; it never forgets our nature and situation, our relations and duty. But
many think to transcend the goodness of Christianity; they are dreaming of
loftier types of character, of sublimer principles, of more illustrious lives
than Christianity knows. Fanciful ideals exhaust us, distort us, destroy us.
What sweet, bright, fragrant flowers God has made to spring on the
earth--cowslips in the meadow, daffodils by the pools, primroses in the woods,
myrtles, wall-flowers, lavenders, pinks, roses to bloom in the garden, an
infinite wealth of colour and sweetness and virtue! But in these days we are
tired of God’s flowers, and with a strange wantonness we have taken to dyeing
them for ourselves: the world is running after queer blossoms that our fathers
knew not--yellow asters, green carnations, blue dahlias, red lilacs. And in the
moral world we are guilty of similar freaks. “Learn of Me,” says the Master.
Yes; let us go back to Him who was without excess or defect. Nothing is more
wonderful about our Lord than His perfect naturalness, His absolute balance,
His reality, reasonableness, artlessness, completeness. With all His mighty
enthusiasm He never oversteps the modesty of nature. (W. L. Watkinson.)
The danger of being over-righteous or over-wise
There may be several accounts given of these words if we take them
as spoken by Solomon.
1. They seem to refer to the method of God’s dealing with good and
bad men in this world; of which he spake (Ecclesiastes 7:15). Be not too strict and
severe in passing judgment on God’s providence; be not more righteous and wise
than God is; do not think you could govern the world better than He doth; pry
not toe far into those mysteries which are too deep for you; why shoulder thou
confound thyself?
2. They may refer to religion; but then they are not to be understood
of what is truly and really so; but of what passes in the world for it; and men
may esteem themselves very much for the sake of it. For although men cannot
exceed in the main and fundamental duties of religion, in the belief and fear
and love of God; yet they may, and often do, mistake in the nature and measures
and bounds of what they account duties of religion.
3. They may be taken in a moral sense for that righteousness which
men are to show towards each other, both in judgment and practice; and for that
wisdom, which mankind is capable of, as a moral virtue; and in both these there
are extremes to be avoided; and so they are not to be righteous overmuch, nor
to make themselves over-wise.
4. The mischief they bring upon themselves, by being thus severe
towards others.
5. We may be righteous overmuch in the moral practice of
righteousness towards others.
6. To conclude all by way of advice as to the general sense of these
words--
Overmuch
Many a really good man has made enemies to himself by his rigid
adherence to, and unwise advocacy of, what might be called no more than a
mistaken scruple; while not a few who seemed to be running well have fallen
away altogether from the profession and practice of the truth, by mistaken
views of their own liberty. Hence, says this instructor, beware of both
extremes: “Be not righteous overmuch, neither make thyself over-wise”: or, in
other words, do not imagine that thou hast a monopoly of the wisdom of the
world. “Why shouldest thou destroy thyself?” But, on the other hand (I would
that our scoffer, would quote this too), “Be not overmuch wicked, neither be
thou foolish: why shouldest thou die before thy time?”
I. Look at those
things which this precept neither touches nor forbids.
1. It does not touch the idea that the whole man should be under the
power of the truth. This, in fact, is needful, to have anything which the Word
of God could call religion, or righteousness; for it is the heart that
determines what the action is, and not the action which gives its character to
the heart. The sulphurous spring, with its healing properties, takes its nature
from the strata in which it has its source; and he would be a fool who should
say that the water gave its properties to them. The fruit is determined by the
nature of the tree, not the nature of the tree by the fruit. I admit, indeed,
nay contend, that the fruit evidences what the nature of the tree is; but it
does so only because the tree gives its nature to the fruit, and not the fruit
to the tree. Now, in perfect harmony with this principle that pervades nature,
it is the heart of a man which gives its character to the man, and to the man’s
life; and hence, unless his heart be right with God, he has no religion worthy
of the name, and is not, in the Scripture sense, a righteous man. Let no one
who is unconverted, therefore, shelter himself under a false interpretation of
these words. Conversion is not being righteous overmuch; regeneration is not
too much of a good thing; but contrariwise. It is that one indispensable thing
without which there is no righteousness at all, and the soul is still in sin.
2. This text neither touches nor condemns the idea that a man should
be under the influence of the truth at all times; for, of course, if his heart
be under its power, he cannot but be so always. Nevertheless, it is of
importance enough to have a place by itself; for there are multitudes who have
here, too, the most fallacious opinions. Religion, they say, is for Sabbath.
Or, if they extend its province farther, and allow it to come into the week-day
at all, they are careful to confine it to the closet, and never by any chance
permit it to go farther. They write up on the door of their counting-room or
their workshop, “No admittance, except on business”: and as they conceive
Religion has no business there, she is unceremoniously shut out. “Everything,”
say they, “in its own place; and this is not the place for Religion.” And if
she is not suffered to enter the place of business, still less, if possible, is
she perturbed to make her appearance in the hall of pleasure. There is a time
for everything; is there? “Yes,” you answer, “so Solomon says.” But will you
please to turn to the passage, and see if, amid his exhaustive enumeration of
things for which there is a time, you will find this: “There is a time for
religion, and a time to have no religion.” You will look for that in vain; and
such an omission is of very great significance. No doubt you will say, “But
then we cannot always be engaged in religious exercises.” Ah! but you have
shifted your ground; religious exercises is not religion. There are many
so-called religious exercises, I will venture to say, in which there is no
religion at all; and there are many exercises, which are not so denominated, in
which there is a great deal. Would you confine the blood to the heart, and not
allow it to circulate to the extremities of the body? No more need you attempt
to confine religion to one place, or to imprison her into one day. She will not
be chained thus to one spot; she must, and she will, have free course; and if,
in your view, it is being righteous overmuch, to seek always and everywhere to
serve God, then it is a sure sign that you have yet to learn wherein true
righteousness consists.
II. Now, consider
what this precept does forbid.
1. When other important duties are neglected for the purpose of
engaging in what are called, strictly speaking, religious meetings, such a case
comes clearly under the prohibition of the text. The multiplication of
religious meetings seems to me to be fast becoming one of the evils of the day.
I have often admired the answer of a working-man, who, being asked by his
neighbour one Monday morning why he did not come out a third time on the
previous day, when the minister preached an able sermon on family training,
replied, “Because I was at home doing it.” Now, this reply will help you to
understand my meaning. I do not want the attendance on such meetings to
interfere with the “at home doing it.” Unless this be watched, the religion
will become a thing of mere spiritual dissipation, and thereafter it will
dwindle into a lifeless form, and entirely lose its power.
2. This prohibition fairly enough applies to those who, by their
religious fasting and asceticism, so weaken their bodies as to render them
incapable of attending to their proper work. God asks no man to starve himself
for His glory. He bids us rather attend to our bodily health, and spend our
strength by working in His service.
3. This prohibition touches and forbids the magnifying of small
points of religious opinion into essential importance, and the thinking of it a
matter of conscience and of duty to have no fellowship with those who do not
hold them.
4. The principle of my text touches and prohibits all trust in personal
righteousness for acceptance with God. Every man who thinks to work out his own
righteousness, is righteous overmuch. Indeed, I question very much if the idea
of working out something which may have merit in God’s sight, is not, in one
form or other, at the bottom of those things which I have enumerated. (W. M.
Taylor, D. D.)
Righteous overmuch
In considering the text we may, I apprehend, at once, with perfect
safety, decide what cannot be the true meaning of the inspired writer. It
cannot, in the first place, be his design to imply that our feelings of piety
and devotion towards God can strike into our hearts with too deep a root, or
can press upon us with too close and powerful an influence. In the second
place, it cannot be his intention to convey the idea that the sincere endeavour
of any human beings to secure the eternal salvation of their souls can be too
strong, too constant, or too earnest. Neither, in the third place, can we
possibly err, on the side of a faulty excess, in scrupulously endeavouring to
discharge all the duties of morality. If we love God, we must keep His
commandments. We cannot be too watchful against temptations, too guarded
against the seductions of sinful pleasure, too careful to check every
intemperate and irregular desire. Neither can we be too anxious to perform our
duties towards our fellow-creatures; too kind, beneficent, and merciful, too
just or honest in our dealings. It must, therefore, be perfectly clear that,
when we are cautioned against “being righteous overmuch,” as well as against
making ourselves “over-wise,” we are cautioned, not against extremes in respect
to true righteousness, or true wisdom, but against mistakes in the pursuit of
both these excellencies, and false pretensions to them. A person may be said to
“make himself over-wise” when he mistakes the ends of true wisdom, or when he
follows false wisdom instead of true, or when he pretends to possess it in
matters where he is really deficient. And so, in a corresponding sense, he may
become “righteous overmuch,” when he professes to be more righteous than
others, and really is not so, wearing his religion merely on the outside, and
not inwardly in the heart; or when he mistakes the means of righteousness for
the end; or when, in some manner or other, he follows and exhibits a false kind
of righteousness instead of that which the Word of God, rightly understood,
prescribes and enjoins. (G. D’Oyly, D. D.)
Be not righteous overmuch
1. In general, they are righteous overmuch who run into any excess in
the practice of those acts which are of a religious nature, which are good, and
absolutely necessary in a certain degree; such, for example, as prayer,
contemplation, retirement, reading the Scriptures and other good books,
frequenting the public worship of God, instructing others, abstinence,
mortification, almsgiving, and religious conversation. These things are
overdone when the practice of any of them interferes with other necessary
duties, so as to cause them to be omitted, or when they are carried further
than the health of the body, or the attention of the mind, can accompany them,
or the situation and circumstances of life can admit.
2. Over-righteousness consists also in everything that is properly
called will-worship--the invention and the practice of such expedients of
appeasing or of pleasing God as neither reason nor revelation suggest; and
which, since they are not contained in the law of nature, or in the law of God,
must either be wicked, or at least frivolous and foolish.
3. Religious zeal, being naturally brisk and resolute, is a warmth of
temper which may easily run into excesses, and which breaks in upon the great
law of charity, when it produces oppression and persecution. The zealot pleads
conscience for his own behaviour, but never will allow that plea in those who
dissent from him: and what a perverse and saucy absurdity is this!
4. Over-righteousness hath conspicuously appeared in indiscreet
austerities, a solitary life, a voluntary poverty, and vows of celibacy. I join
all these together, because they have very often gone together.
5. This leads us to another instance of over-righteousness, which was
common amongst the ancient Jews or Hebrews, namely, making solemn vows to God,
without duly considering the inconveniences which might attend them. Such vows
either ended in neglecting to perform them, which was perjury; or in performing
them with a slovenly sorrow and reluctance, and in offending God, who loveth a
cheerful giver.
6. Zeal, or righteousness, is carried beyond its bounds when men run
into unnecessary danger even for a good cause. The ancient Christians had a
laudable zeal for the Gospel; but it carried some of them into excessive
imprudence in provoking, insulting, and defying their Pagan enemies, and
seeking out martyrdom when they were not called to it. But it was observable
that several of these rash zealots, when it came to the trial, fell off
shamefully, and renounced their religion; whilst other Christians, who were
timorous and diffident, who fled and hid themselves, and used every lawful
method to shun persecution, being seized upon and brought forth to suffer,
behaved, by the gracious assistance of God, with exemplary courage and
constancy.
7. Another instance of over-righteousness appears in a busy,
meddling, intriguing forwardness to reform defects, real or supposed, in the
doctrines, discipline, or manners of the Christian community. Every one is not
qualified for the office of a reformer. He hath a call, he will say, but a call to be
turbulent and troublesome is not a call from God.
8. Lastly, a modest and a prudent man will not be over-righteous in
the following instances: he will not be forward to rebuke all evil-doers at all
times, and on all occasions, when the bad temper, or the high station of the
offenders may make them impatient of censure, and draw upon him for an answer,
Who made thee a judge and a ruler over us? Mind thy own concerns, and mend thy
own manners. He will not be fond of disputing with every one who is in an
error. It may be observed that in almost all debates, even between civil and
polite contenders, the issue is, that each departs with the same sentiments
which he brought along with him, and after much hath been said, nothing is done
on either side, by way of conviction. This will make a wise man not over-fond
of the task of mending wrong heads. (J. Jortin, D. D.)
A perilous compromise
That is most soothing and comforting counsel for the indolent
soul. “Be not righteous overmuch.” What an easy yoke! How mild the
requirements! How delightfully lax the discipline! Why, the school is just a
playground! Have we any analogous counsel in our own day? In what modern guise
does it appear? Here is a familiar phrase: “We can have too much of a good
thing.” Such is the general application of the proverb. But the Word is
stretched out to include the sphere of religion. The counsel runs somewhat in
this wise; we require a little religion ii we would drink the nectar of the
world, and we require a little worldliness if we would really appreciate the
flavour of religion. To put the counsel baldly, we need a little devilry to
make life spicy. That is one modern shape of the old counsel. Here is the old
counsel in another dress: “We must wink at many things.” We must not be too
exactingly scrupulous. That is the way to march through life easily, attended
by welcome comforts. Don’t be too particular; “be not righteous overmuch.” Here
is a third dress in which the old counsel appears in modern times: “In Rome,
one must do as Rome does.” Our company must determine our moral attire. We must
have the adaptability of a chameleon. If we are abstainers, don’t let us take
our scrupulosity into festive and convivial gatherings. Don’t let us throw wet
blankets over the genial crowd. If some particular expedient, some rather shaky
policy be prevalent in your line of business, do not stand out an irritating
exception. “Be not righteous overmuch.” Now, let us pass from the Book of
Ecclesiastes to another part of the sacred Word, and listen to a voice from a
higher sphere. What says the prophet Isaiah? “Your wine is mixed with water.”
The people had been carrying out the counsel of Koheleth. They had been
diluting their righteousness. They had been putting a little water into their
wine. The prophet proclaims that God will not accept any dilutions. He will not
accept a religion that is watered down. He despises a devotion which has been
thinned into compromise. In many parts of the Old Testament this perilous
compromise is condemned. “They have given their tears to the altar, and have
married the daughter of a strange god.” “They feared the Lord and served their
own gods.” This is the type of broken fellowship and of impaired devotion
against Which the prophets of the Old Testament direct their severest
indictments. Let us pass on now to the day when the light is come, and the
“glory of the Lord” is risen upon us. Let us hear the counsel and command of
“the Word made flesh.” “Be ye perfect;” that is the injunction of the Master.
We are to carry the refining and perfecting influences of religion into
everything. Everywhere it is to be pervasive of life, as the blood is pervasive
of the flesh. Everything in our life is to constitute an allurement to help to
draw the world to the feet of the risen Lord. This all-pervasive religion, this
non-compromising religion, is the only one that discovers the thousand secret
sweets that are yielded by the Hill of Zion. It is the only religion that
presses the juice out of the grapes of life, and drinks the precious essences
which God hath prepared for them that love Him. “Be ye perfect;” sanctify the
entire round, never be off duty, and life will become an apocalypse of
ever-heightening and ever-brightening glory. (J. H. Jowett, M. A.)
Ecclesiastes 7:18; Ecclesiastes 7:14
Consider the work of God: for who can make that straight which He
hath made crooked?
The power of God, and the duty of man
I. What we are to
understand by “the work of God.” This is an expression often used in the
Scriptures, and has different significations. In one place it refers to the two
tables of stone, containing the Ten Commandments, written by the finger of God
and given to Moses. In another to the reception of the Lord Jesus Christ by
faith (John 6:29-30). In a third to the progress
of the Gospel, and to the influence of the Holy Spirit in the heart, by which a
radical change is effected, and holy tempers produced (Romans 14:20). In the text it is
evidently used to point out to us the infinitely wise arrangement of all the
situations and circumstances of the sons of men: that the bounds of their
habitation are marked out by Him to whom all things in earth and heaven owe
their existence.
II. The
impossibility of altering or defeating the purposes of god. To prove this,
might I not refer to the experience and observation of all people? Our fields
may be cultivated with all imaginable care--we may sow the best corn that can
be procured--but if the will of the Lord be so, we can reap nothing but
disappointment. If He designs to chastise a guilty people by sending a famine
upon them, lie can make a worm, or a dew, hail, storm, or lightning, to blast
man’s hope in a moment, and to teach him that except the Lord build the house,
they labour in vain that build it; and that except the Lord keep the city, the
watchman waketh but in vain (Psalms 127:1). If it be His will to fill
a sinner with remorse of conscience, He can make him cry out with Cain, My
punishment is greater than I can bear--or with Joseph’s brethren, when they
imagined that vengeance was about to overtake them, We are verily guilty
concerning our brother--or with Judas, I have sinned, in that I have betrayed
the innocent blood. All hearts are in His hand; His power rules over all; none
can stay that hand or resist successfully that power.
III. The duty
incumbent on man to be satisfied with his lot. A sinner by nature and practice,
man deserves no blessing from his Maker--he can lay no claim to a continuance
of present mercies, nor has he in himself any ground to hope for fresh ones--of
course everything he enjoys is unmerited. Is it for such a being as this to be
dissatisfied with what he possesses, because others possess more? Is it for him
to think that he is hardly dealt with, while oppressed by pain, sickness;
hunger or thirst--when a moment’s reflection ought to convince him that
anything short of hell is a blessing? The heart must be changed by the grace of
God before it can rejoice in tribulation--and testify that tribulation worketh
patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope: and it is through the
belief of the Gospel that this change is effected.
IV. Consideration
is an important and plainly enjoined duty--and when we take into account the
character of man, and the distractions produced in his mind by visible things,
its necessity is quite apparent. Let us then consider that we are not called
upon to account for the Lord’s dealings, or to make the vain attempt of
reconciling the seeming contrarieties in the Divine administration. If clouds
and darkness are round about Him, we may yet be sure that righteousness and
judgment are the habitation of His throne. His servants will one day
understand, as far as is necessary, everything which now appears dark and perplexing,
and in the mean season they are called to live by faith--to “take no thought
for the morrow”--to “commit their ways unto Him,” and to be satisfied with the
assurance that “the Judge of all the earth does right.” (P. Roe, M. A.)
The crook in the lot
A just view of afflicting incidents is altogether necessary to a
Christian deportment under them: and that view is to be obtained only by faith,
not by sense. For it is the light of the Word alone that represents them
justly, discovering in them the work of God, and consequently designs becoming
the Divine perfections. These perceived by the eye of faith, and duly
considered, one has a just view of afflicting incidents, fitted to quell the
turbulent motions of corrupt affections under dismal outward appearances.
I. Whatsoever
crook is in one’s lot, it is of God’s making.
1. As to the crook itself, the crook in the lot, for the better
understanding thereof these few things following are premised.
2. Having seen the crook itself, we are, in the next place, to
consider of God’s making it.
II. What crook God
makes in our lot, we will not be able to even.
1. Show God’s marring and making a crook in one’s lot, as He sees
meet.
2. Consider man’s attempting to mend or even that crook in their lot.
This, in a word, lies in their making efforts to bring their lot in that point
to their own will, that they may both go one way; so it imports three things.
3. In what sense it is to be understood, that we will not be able to
mend or even the crook in our lot?
4. Reasons of the point.
Inference
1. There is a necessity of yielding and submitting under the crook in
our lot; for we may as well think to remove the rocks and mountains, which God
has settled, as to make that part of cur lot straight which He hath crooked.
2. The evening of the crook in our lot, by main force of our own, is
but a cheat we put on ourselves, and will not last, but, like a stick by main
force made straight, it will quickly return to the bow again.
3. The only effectual way of getting the crook evened is to apply to
God for it.
Exhortation
1. Let us then apply to God for removing any crook in our lot, that
in the settled order of things may be removed.
2. What crook there is, that, in the settled order of things, cannot
be got removed or evened in this world, let us apply to God for suitable relief
under it.
3. Let us then set ourselves rightly to bear and carry under the
crock in our lot, while God sees meet to continue it. What we cannot mend, let
us bear Christianity, and not fight against God. So let us bear it--
Motives to press this exhortation.
1. There will be no evening of it while God sees meet to continue it.
2. An awkward carriage under it notably increases the pain of it.
3. The crook in thy lot is the special trial God has chosen for thee to
take thy measure by (1 Peter 1:6-7). Think, then, with
thyself under it. Now, here the trial of my state turns; I must, by this be
proven either sincere or a hypocrite. For--
4. The trial by the crook here will not last long (1 Corinthians 7:31).
5. If ye would, in a Christian manner, set yourselves to bear the
crook, ye would find it easier than ye imagine (Matthew 11:29-30).
6. If ye carry Christianly under your crook here, ye will not lose
your labour, but get a full reward of grace in the other world, through Christ
(2 Timothy 2:12; 1 Corinthians 15:58).
7. If ye do not carry Christianly under it, ye will lose your souls
in the other world (Jude 1:15-16).
III. Considering the
crook in the lot as the work of God is a proper means to bring one to carry
rightly under it.
1. What it is to consider the crook as the work of God.
2. How is it to be understood to be a proper means to bring one to
carry rightly under the crook?
3. I shall confirm that it is a proper mean to bring one to carry
rightly under it.
Crooked things
(with Isaiah 40:4):--These two passages contain
a question and the answer to it. We are taught therefrom that God, and God
alone, can make that straight which He has permitted to be made crooked--that
He alone can make that plain which He has allowed to become rough.
I. The
inequalities, or crookedness, of temporal things.
1. We must first of all grant that crooked things are not necessarily
evil things. Many of them are very beautiful--many very useful. If all the
limbs of a tree were straight, how curious would be our surroundings! If all
the fields were flat, how monotonous the landscape, and how unhealthy the
situation! It is when crookedness takes the place of that which ought to be
straight that the crookedness becomes an evil.
2. We must, secondly, bear in mind that these crooked things are made
so by God--“that which God hath made crooked.” There are many reasons why He
has done so, but He has not revealed all those reasons to us. Some, however,
are so evident that we cannot but see them.
3. Let us now glance at some of these crooked things.
II. No human power
can put these things straight. How could we expect anything different? How can
man contravene the purposes of an almighty God? No more can we expect to
rectify things in this world than we could expect to create the world itself.
III. The grand
consummation referred to in our second text--“The crooked shall be made
straight.” Yes; but this is by God Himself, and not by man. God shall put
things straight by going down to the cause of their disorder. He will not
attack the details like man would when he finds a medicine to cure a pain; but
He will set the springs right, and then all the wheels will run with smoothness
and regularity. (Homilist.)
The crooked in life
I. What is here
implied. It is something crooked. What is this? It is not the same in all, but
it may easily be found.
1. It is sometimes found in the mind. One complains of the slowness
of his apprehension; another of a narrow capacity; another of a treacherous
memory.
2. It is sometimes found in the body. Some are defective in their limbs. Some are the
subjects of indisposition and infirmity.
3. It is sometimes found in our connections. Perhaps it is a bad
wife. Perhaps it is a brother. Perhaps it is a servant. Perhaps it is a
treacherous or a frail friend.
4. It is sometimes found in our calling or business. Bad times.
Untoward events. Dear purchases and cheap sales. Bad debts.
5. Sometimes it is found in our condition considered at large. Is the
man wealthy? In the midst of his sufficiency he is afraid of poverty. Has he
been crowned with success? There is some circumstance that tarnishes the
lustre, or mars the joy. Has he honour? This bringeth along with it defamation.
Has be exquisite pleasure? It soon cloys, and the repetition of the scene
becomes insipid.
II. What is
expressed--namely, that God is the author of this. There is no such thing as
chance in our world. Nothing can befall us without the permission and
appointment of the all-disposing providence of our Heavenly Father. Now, how
rational this is. Why, surely it is not beneath God to govern what it was not
beneath Him to create!
III. What is
enjoined. It is to “consider.”
1. So consider the work of God as to be led to acknowledge that
resistance to it is useless.
2. See and acknowledge the propriety of acquiescence.
3. So consider the work of God as to improve it and turn it to
advantage.
For there is not a just man upon earth, that doeth good, and
sinneth not.
Man’s inability to keep the law perfectly
Here is the undoubted character of all the human race, fixing
imperfection and sinfulness on the best of the kind in this world, and so
concluding all to be liable to sin, and under it.
I. What is legal
perfection, or perfect keeping of the commands. It is a perfect conformity of
heart and life to the commands of God; and implies--
1. A perfection of the principles of action (Matthew 22:37).
2. A perfection of the part, as of obedience. No part must be
lacking, every command of whatsoever nature must be kept (Galatians 3:10).
3. A perfection of degrees in every part (Matthew 22:37). Sincerity is not enough
in the eye of the law. In everything one must come to the highest pitch, or
there is no perfection.
4. A perfection of duration or continuance (Galatians 3:10). One bad trip after a
course of obedience will mar all.
II. The
attainableness of this perfection.
1. Adam before the fall was able to have kept the commands perfectly;
he might have attained it; for “God made him upright” (Ecclesiastes 7:29).
2. The man Christ, who was not a mere man, but God-man, who was not
only able to keep the law perfectly, but actually did so.
3. The saints in heaven are able, and do actually perfectly obey
whatever God’s will to them is (Hebrews 12:23).
4. But since Adam fell, no mere man is able, while in this life,
either of himself, or by virtue of any grace now given, to keep the commands
perfectly (James 3:2). This inability is owing to
the remains of corruption that cleaves to every one of them in this mortal
state (Romans 7:2)
III. How the saints
sin daily, and break the commands.
1. How many ways the commands may be broken.
2. In what respect the saints sin daily, in thought, word and deed.
3. How these failures of theirs break the commands, while they
sincerely endeavour to obey them. Why, the moral law is the eternal rule of
righteousness, and in whatever state the creature be, he is bound to obey his
Creator, whether in a state of nature or grace, glory or damnation. And though
perfection be not attainable in this life, yet it is the saints’ duty as well
as that of others. So every coming short of that perfection is their sin,
needing to be taken away by Christ’s blood.
IV. Confirm the
point, that perfection is not attainable in this life.
1. The Scripture attests that there is no man without sin (1 Kings 8:46; James 3:2). If any man set up for it in
himself, the Spirit of God says he deceives himself (1 John 1:8). See an unanswerable
question (Proverbs 20:9).
2. The best have a corrupt as well as a gracious principle, making
the spiritual combat never ending till death give the separating stroke (Galatians 5:17).
3. We are taught always to pray for pardon, “Forgive us our debts”:
but sinless creatures need no pardons. This clearly shows that all sin, and so
come short of perfect obedience.
4. Consider the spirituality of the law and its extent with human
weakness, and you will see this clearly. (T. Boston, D. D.)
Also take no heed unto all words that are spoken: lest thou hear
thy servant curse thee.
Listeners hear no good of themselves
I. We should pay
some attention to what others think and say about us. What a force public
opinion is! We cannot see it, nor touch it; and yet it is a great factor in
shaping the character and actions alike of men and nations. Public opinion may
be utterly wrong; and then we must oppose it at any cost, even though we stand
alone. And some of us might do well to pay a little more attention than we do
to the tone of thought and feeling around us. If a man see that his acts and
life are giving pain to others, that he is a stumblingblock to his neighbours,
even though it only be to those whom he would consider weaker brethren; and if
he go on his way recklessly, regardless of what men say or think, verily he
will not be able to free himself from guilt. By such thoughtlessness we are apt
to harden, to irritate, to mislead our fellows.
II. We should not
be too curious to know what other people think of us. Some men are selfish or
obstinate. They do what is pleasant; they follow the path which in their own
eyes seems right. Am I my brother’s keeper? they exclaim, in answer to every
remonstrance. We are all one family, closely united, and at every point we are
hurting or helping one another. There are thousands, however, who err on the
opposite side. They allow the opinion of the world, the fashion of the day, to
shape their life and character. There are many whose life is darkened for a whole
day because some one has said a severe word about them and the report of it has
reached their ears. It is foolish to make so much of the world’s opinion. For
think how much idle gossip is floating about everywhere. Sharp words are often
spoken in a passion, or under a misconception, and the speaker regrets them
bitterly afterwards. He is a wise man who is not anxious to hear too much.
III. We should
always be anxious to know God’s opinion of us, and to have his approval. Some
one may say, I do not mind what men say of me; but, oh, that I knew God’s
opinion of me I It is easy to know it. “The Father Himself loveth you, because
ye have loved Me.” Do you love Christ? Then you are loved by God.” He that
believeth not the Son . . . the wrath of God abideth on him.” Have you never
trusted Christ as your Saviour? Then God’s wrath has its resting-place upon
you. (W. Park, M. A.)
A woman among all those have I not found.
Solomon’s estimate of woman
This sentence of Solomon has been often quoted to show the utter
worthlessness of the female character. It is, however, an entirely worthless
conclusion as regards woman when placed in her legitimate and appropriate
sphere as the one sole companion of man’s life in love, cares and labours. As
well might the tyrant who, by cruelty, has alienated his subjects, complain
that he has failed to find loyal men, as the debauchee, who has subjected
hundreds to his lust, that he had found no noble, virtuous woman. It is not
thus that the commerce of love is carried on. Pearls are not to be exchanged
for pebbles. The law of love which God has established is heart for heart; and
the affections that are dissipated among a thousand objects must ever be
without return of that which yet the soul seeks--the undivided love. Of this
fact Solomon seems to have had a dim perception when he gives those
never-to-be-forgotten advises to the young man, to avoid the strange woman whose steps take
hold on hell, and to live joyfully with the wife of his youth. It was not given
to Solomon, wise as he was, to limn the picture of the virtuous woman, but to
another king whose wisdom was derived from the inspiration of his mother. The
words of Lemuel are well worthy of our attention, both as neutralizing the
false impression produced by Solomon’s philosophy, and as showing what the true
woman is (Proverbs 31:10-31). (J. Bennet.)
God hath made man upright; but they have sought out many
inventions.
Man in his original and in his lapsed stage
I. God made man
upright. Our text, then, teaches us that man was made in a state of perfect
conformity to some rule. If it is asked, what rule? I answer, the law of God,
for this is the only perfect, immutable and eternal rule to which God requires
His creatures to be conformed, and in conformity to which rectitude or
uprightness consists.
1. A state of perfect conformity to the Divine law implies the
possession of an understanding perfectly acquainted with that law.
2. A state of perfect uprightness, or conformity to the Divine law,
implies a memory which faithfully retains all its precept.
3. A state of perfect conformity to the Divine law implies a
conscience which always faithfully applies it.
4. A state of perfect conformity to the Divine law implies a heart
which perfectly loves that law.
5. A state of perfect conformity to the law of God implies a will
perfectly obedient and submissive to that law; or, in other words, to the
Divine government and authority.
6. There still remains one faculty possessed by man, which it is
necessary to consider--that which is usually called the imagination. When man
left the forming hand of his Maker, this faculty, like the others which we have
mentioned, was entirely free from moral imperfection. Instead of filling the
mind, as it now does, with vain thoughts, waking dreams, and worthless or
sinful fancies, it presented nothing but holy images of spiritual and heavenly
objects.
II. Though God made
man thus upright, they have sought out many inventions.
1. Men have sought out or invented many new ways in which to walk, forsaking
the good old way in which God originally placed them.
2. Men have forsaken the one living and true God, in whom they live,
and move, and are, and sought out or invented innumerable false gods and
created idols, to which they give that homage and attention which are due to
Him alone.
3. Men have ceased to be conformed to the Divine law, and have sought
out many other rules--rules more agreeable to their present sinful
inclinations--by which to regulate and try their conduct. Some adopt for this
purpose the laws of their country; others the opinion of some human teacher; while a third
and more numerous class govern themselves by the maxims which pass currently in
the society of which they happen to be members. Thus, in various ways, men
measure themselves by themselves, and compare themselves among themselves, and
therefore are net wise; for while they follow these rules of human invention,
they have lost all that uprightness, that conformity to the Divine law, which
has been described.
4. Notice, among the inventions of sinful man the innumerable
excuses, pleas and apologies which he has sought out to justify his conduct,
and to make himself appear unfortunate, rather than criminal. (E. Payson,
D. D.)
The original state of man, and the covenant of works
I. The natural
form or constitution of man, as man. The primitive bodies of our first parents
were not subject to the deformities and infirmities, the fatigues of labour,
and the injuries of climates, or seasons, nor to distempers, violence and death
which we are now exposed to; and no doubt but they were built with various
beauties of due proportions, colour and form vastly superior to all that now
appear in the ruins of human nature. But the chief glory of the natural form of
man lies in his soul, which is an incorporeal, invisible and immortal,
intelligent, free and active being, and so bears the natural image of God, as He is a Spirit. The
bands of union between soul and body, and the way of their influencing and
impressing one ,another, lie among the unsearchable mysteries of nature of
which we have no ideas. But this we know, that by their union with each other
to constitute a human person, the glories of the upper and lower worlds are in
a sort epitomized and shadowed out in man.
II. His moral state
or condition as an upright man.
1. With respect to his rectitude.
2. With respect to his happiness.
III. The tenure by
which or the terms upon which he was to hold this moral state. It was not
entailed upon him by any absolute promise that he should continue in it; nor
was it put upon a mere act of Divine sovereignty whether he should hold or lose
it; the first would have left no room for a trial of his obedience, and the
last would have taken away a grand article of his encouragement to that
obedience and of his pleasure in it. But he was to hold it by a covenant of
works, upon condition of perfect obedience to the end of that state of
probation in which it became the wisdom of God to place him.
IV. The concern
that all mankind had therein. He whom God created after His own image is to be
considered as a public person, who was to hold or lose that happy state, not
only for himself, but for all his natural offspring. Had he creed, we had all
been blessed and confirmed in blessedness with him, as upon his fall, Scripture
and experience assure us, we lost it with him. Use:--
1. This shows what dreadful work sin has made in the world.
2. This shows that all good is from God, and all evil from ourselves.
3. Let us be deeply affected with the present state of human nature.
4. Let us turn our eyes to the better covenant and the better Head
which God has provided for our recovery. (J. Guyse, D. D.)
The state of innocence
I. The
righteousness of this state wherein man was created. “God made him upright.”
1. This supposes a law to which he was conformed in his creation; as
when anything is made regular, or according to rule, of necessity the rule
itself is presupposed. Whence we may gather that this law was no other than the
eternal, indispensable law of righteousness observed in all points by the
second Adam, opposed by the carnal mind, and some notions of which remain yet
among the Pagans, who, “having not the law, are a law unto themselves” (Romans 2:14).
2. From what has been said it may be gathered that the original
righteousness explained was universal and natural, yet mutable.
3. It was mutable; it was a righteousness that might he lost, as is
manifested by the doleful event. Let no man quarrel with God’s works in this;
for if Adam had been unchangeably righteous, he must have been so either by
nature or by free gift: by nature he could not be so, for that is proper to
God, and incommunicable to any creature; if by free gift, then no wrong was done
to him in withholding what he could not crave.
II. Some of those
things which accompanied or flowed from the righteousness of man’s primitive
state. Happiness is the result of holiness; and as this was a holy, so it was a
happy state.
1. Man was then a very glorious creature. There was no impurity to be
seen without; no squint look in the eyes, after any unclean thing; the tongue
spoke nothing but the language of heaven; and, in a word, “the King’s son was
all-glorious within,” and his “clothing of wrought gold.”
2. He was the favourite of Heaven. While he was alone in the world he
was not alone, for God was with him. His communion and fellowship were with his
Creator, and that immediately; for as yet there was nothing to turn away the
face of God from the work of His own hands, seeing sin had not as yet entered,
which alone could make the breach.
3. God made him lord of the world, prince of the inferior creatures,
universal lord and emperor of the whole earth. The Lord dealt most liberally
and bountifully with him--“put all things under his feet”: only He kept one
thing, one tree in the garden, out of his hands, even the tree of knowledge of
good and evil. But you may say, and did He grudge him this? I answer, Nay; but
when He had made him thus holy and happy, He graciously gave him this restriction, which was
in its own nature a prop and stay to keep him from falling. And this I say upon
these three grounds:--
4. As he had a perfect tranquillity within his own breast, so he had
a perfect calm without. His heart had nothing to reproach him with; conscience,
then, had nothing to do but to direct, approve, and feast him; and, without,
there was nothing to annoy him.
5. Man had a life of pure delight and unalloyed pleasure in this
state. God placed him, not in a common place of the earth; but in Eden, a place
eminent for pleasantness, as the name of it imports; nay, not only in Eden, but
in the Garden of Eden; the mast pleasant spot of that pleasant place; a garden
planted by God Himself, to be the mansion-house of this His favourite.
6. tie was immortal. He would never have died if he had not sinned;
it was in case of sin that death was threatened (Genesis 2:17), which shows it to be the
consequence of sin, and not of the sinless human nature.
III. The doctrine of
the state of innocence applied.
1. For information.
2. This conveys a reproof to three sorts of persons.
3. Of lamentation. Here was a stately building; man carved like a
fair palace, but now lying in ashes: let us stand and look on the ruins, and
drop a tear. Ah, may we not now say, “0 that we were as in months past!” when
there was no stain in our nature, no cloud on our minds, no pollution in our
hearts! Had we never been in better case, the matter had been less; but they
that were brought up in scarlet do now embrace dunghills. Where is our
primitive glory now? (T. Boston, D. D.)
Man’s creation in a holy, but mutable, state
I. God endued the
nature of man, in his creation, with a perfect and universal rectitude.
1. All created rectitude consists in conformity to some rule or law.
2. The highest rule of all created rectitude is the will of God,
considered as including most intrinsically an eternal and immutable reason,
justice and goodness.
3. Any sufficient signification of this will, touching the reasonable
creature’s duty, is a law, indispensably obliging such a creature.
4. The law given to Adam at his creation was partly natural, given by
way of internal impression upon his soul; partly positive, given (as is
probable) by some more external discovery or revelation.
5. Adam was endued in his creation with a sufficient ability and
habitude to conform to this whole law, both natural and positive; in which
ability and habitude his original rectitude did consist.
II. Man’s defection
from his primitive state was merely voluntary, and from the unconstrained
choice of his own mutable and self-determining will.
1. The nature of man is now become universally depraved and sinful.
This Scripture is full of (1 Kings 8:46; Psalms 14:1; Romans 3:10-19; Romans 3:23; Romans 5:12-13; Romans 5:17-19; 1 John 5:19, etc.), and experience
and common observation put it beyond dispute.
2. The pure and holy nature of God could never be the original of man’s
sin. This is evident in itself. God disclaims it; nor can any affirm it of Him
without denying His very being (Deuteronomy 32:4; Psalms 5:4; 3 John 1:11).
3. It is blasphemous and absurd to talk of two principles (as the
Manichees of old); the one good, and the cause of all good; the other evil, and
the cause of all evil.
4. It was not possible that either external objects, or the
temptation of the devil, should necessitate the will of man to sin.
5. The whole nature of sin consisting only in a defect, no other
cause need be assigned of it than a defective; that is, an understanding, will,
and inferior powers, however originally good, yet mutably and defectively so.
6. Man, being created mutable as to his holiness, must needs be so as
to his happiness too. And that both upon a legal account (for the law had
determined that if he did sin he must die), and also upon a natural; for it was
not possible that, his soul being once depraved by sin, the powers of it
vitiated, their order each to other and toward their objects broken and
interrupted, there should remain a disposition and aptitude to converse with
the Highest Good. (John Howe, M. A.)
Man’s fall
I. Man’s primitive
innocence.
II. Man’s acquired
sin.
1. It is striking to observe that “many inventions” is in the plural.
Righteousness is spoken of as oneness, singleness of heart. But the ways of sin
are many.
2. These ways are of man’s seeking--sought out. All men have followed
the example of Adam, seeking ways of happiness beyond what God has prescribed
for them. True happiness is only to be found in His service, and if man seeks
it elsewhere he will be disappointed.
III. Lessons.
1. The folly of palliating our condition, or assuming a character we
do not possess. A man’s character may possess much that is lovely, but the best
are fallen creatures.
2. The folly of casting the blame of our sinfulness on God. God
originally made man upright.
3. The folly of supposing that we can recover ourselves from the
fall.
4. The blessedness of comparing our own folly with the wisdom of God,
and our present wretched condition with that which He has provided. He can
restore and recover us through the sacrifice of Christ, and His vicarious
atonement on our behalf. (Homilist.)
The fall
At first sight it would seem almost incredible that a being
endowed and circumstanced as was Adam, probably informed that not only his own
happiness, but that of an unnumbered posterity, depended on his obedience to a
single command, should have signally failed in his probation, and provoked a
curse which the least steadfastness might have averted. Our only business now,
however, in examining this matter, is with the truth that “God made man
upright,” and that in making him upright He had done enough for His creature.
You may, indeed, say that God might have so constituted Adam that he should
have been incapable of falling, and you may ask, “Why was he not thus
constituted?” If you mean that human nature might have been such that to sin
would have been impossible, we believe you to assert what is altogether
incorrect. An incapacity of sinning is the property of no finite nature. The
archangel, sublime in his prowess, is nevertheless finite--and what is finite
may be measured and matched by temptation; add you must pass from the created
to the uncreated, and bow down before Him who is every way infinite, ere you
can find a being of whom to declare that he cannot sin because by nature
inaccessible to evil. But then you will say, “If not by nature, undoubtedly by
grace, our first parents might have been prevented from yielding; grace in sufficient
measure to maintain them in their obedience had been granted to many angels,
and might, if God had seen fit, have been granted to man.” Yes, it might; but
grace, from its very nature, must be altogether free; God may give it or
withhold it, according to His pleasure; and if there was no flaw in the
original constitution of Adam, his powers having all that perfectness which
consisted with creatureship, it could not have been at variance with any
attribute of God to withhold that grace which should have kept him from
falling. That God should have placed His creature in a share of probation, the
trial being quite within the strength, and the reward of obedience unspeakably
magnificent, you can imagine nothing more equitable, nothing more worthy every way
of Deity; but there can be no probation where there is that prevention which
you think might have been extended to Adam; if you allow it worthy of God to
place His creature on trial, you make it indispensable that He should suffer
him to fall. But if there still lurk a feeling in your minds--a feeling not to
be met by argu-ment-that it was unlike a merciful God to permit His creature to
work out for himself a heritage of woe and of shame, why, then, we call upon
you to remember that, whilst allowing the evil, God had determined the
antidote. I doubt not the glory of an unfallen man, I question not the
splendour and loveliness of an unblighted paradise; very noble must Adam have
been, and beautiful amidst the surrounding creation, when God conversed familiarly
with man, and earth was as the shrine of its Maker; and sublime, indeed, would
have been the spectacle, and majestic our inheritance, had each of us been born
in the image of God, and secured against losing the resemblance; but I would
not exchange what I am, if linked by faith with the Mediator Christ, for what I
should have been bad Adam never transgressed. I know not what place would then
have belonged to our nature amongst the orders of creation, but this I know,
that now it is associated with the Divine, and imagination itself fails to
measure its dignity. I know that by occupying my place, suffering and obeying
in my stead, the Son of God has done vastly more than reinstate me in my
forfeited possession: He has set me “far above principalities and powers”: He
has opened to me happiness which is not to be reached by aught else created; He
has brought me into a relationship with Deity, which could not have resulted
from creation. Oh! then, to murmur because Adam was allowed to destroy us by
his apostasy is to forget or deny that Christ redeemed us by His agony; to make
it matter of complaint that we were suffered to fall is to repine at being
placed unspeakably higher than we originally stood. It was not through any
fault in his original constitution that Adam fell away. That constitution was,
indeed, mutable, because Adam was a creature, and no created nature, not the
very highest, can in itself be immutable. But there was no defect in Adam,
unless you choose to reckon it a defect that he was finite. The understanding
could immediately distinguish truth from error; the will was prompt to follow
the verdict of the understanding; and the passions were all held in thorough
subordination; so that, comparing the circumstances and the endowments of Adam,
you may see that he possessed sufficient power for passing successfully through
his probation, and that, having been created, he might, had he chosen, have
continued in uprightness. Just, then, and true, and merciful was God in His
dealings with the father of our race, for man could not have fallen had he not
of his own will “sought out inventions.” This brief description has been
applicable from the first. It was that they might “be as gods,” that they might
“know good and evil,” that they might advance themselves in the scale of
intelligence, for this it was that Adam and Eve partook of the forbidden fruit
and set at nought the positive command. They tried the experiment, and, with
all the consequences of failure, bequeathed to their children the fatal wish to
invent good for themselves rather than seek it in God. The many inventions
which we seek out; the schemes, even where there is the light of revelation,
for being ourselves the authors, either in whole or in part, of our own
deliverance, these are continued evidences that we are the children of those
who even in paradise planned their own exaltation and thought to be wiser than
God. We imitate our forefather, resolving to be ourselves the architects of our
greatness, and therefore building on the quicksand; neglecting, as he did, the
simple declarations of revelation, we take our own way of acquiring knowledge
and learn it by being lost. Oh! for the spirit of St. Paul--“I determined not
to know anything among you save Jesus Christ and Him crucified.” I read the
history of human transgression and ruin. I read it in the pages of Scripture; I
read it in the throes and the convulsions of a disorganized world. I then turn
to the record of redemption. I find that God has graciously taken into His own
hands the work of my salvation. I learn that, though fallen, He is ready to
exalt me; though corrupted, He is willing to purify, though worthy of
condemnation, He offers me forgiveness and pardon. (H. Melvill, B. D.)
──《The Biblical Illustrator》