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Isaiah Chapter
Sixty-four
Isaiah 64
Chapter Contents
The church prays that God's power may be manifested.
(1-5) A confession of sin, and afflictions bewailed. (6-12)
Commentary on Isaiah 64:1-5
(Read Isaiah 64:1-5)
They desire that God would manifest himself to them and
for them, so that all may see it. This is applicable to the second coming of
Christ, when the Lord himself shall descend from heaven. They plead what God
had used to do, and had declared his gracious purpose to do, for his people.
They need not fear being disappointed of it, for it is sure; or disappointed in
it, for it is sufficient. The happiness of his people is bound up in what God
has designed for them, and is preparing for them, and preparing them for; what
he has done or will do. Can we believe this, and then think any thing too great
to expect from his truth, power, and love? It is spiritual and cannot be
comprehended by human understanding. It is ever ready. See what communion there
is between a gracious God and a gracious soul. We must make conscience of doing
our duty in every thing the Lord our God requires. Thou meetest him; this
speaks his freeness and forwardness in doing them good. Though God has been
angry with us for our sins, and justly, yet his anger has soon ended; but in
his favour is life, which goes on and continues, and on that we depend for our
salvation.
Commentary on Isaiah 64:6-12
(Read Isaiah 64:6-12)
The people of God, in affliction, confess and bewail
their sins, owning themselves unworthy of his mercy. Sin is that abominable
thing which the Lord hates. Our deeds, whatever they may seem to be, if we
think to merit by them at God's hand, are as rags, and will not cover us;
filthy rags, and will but defile us. Even our few good works in which there is
real excellence, as fruits of the Spirit, are so defective and defiled as done
by us, that they need to be washed in the fountain open for sin and
uncleanness. It bodes ill when prayer is kept back. To pray, is by faith to
take hold of the promises the Lord has made of his good-will to us, and to
plead them; to take hold of him, earnestly begging him not to leave us; or
soliciting his return. They brought their troubles upon themselves by their own
folly. Sinners are blasted, and then carried away, by the wind of their own
iniquity; it withers and then ruins them. When they made themselves as an
unclean thing, no wonder that God loathed them. Foolish and careless as we are,
poor and despised, yet still Thou art our Father. It is the wrath of a Father
we are under, who will be reconciled; and the relief our case requires is
expected only from him. They refer themselves to God. They do not say,
"Lord, rebuke us not," for that may be necessary; but, "Not in
thy displeasure." They state their lamentable condition. See what ruin sin
brings upon a people; and an outward profession of holiness will be no defence
against it. God's people presume not to tell him what he shall say, but their
prayer is, Speak for the comfort and relief of thy people. How few call upon
the Lord with their whole hearts, or stir themselves to lay hold upon him! God
may delay for a time to answer our prayers, but he will, in the end, answer
those who call on his name and hope in his mercy.
── Matthew Henry《Concise Commentary on Isaiah》
Isaiah 64
Verse 1
[1] Oh that thou wouldest rend the heavens, that thou
wouldest come down, that the mountains might flow down at thy presence,
Rent — A metaphor taken from men, that when they would
resolutely help one in distress, break and fling open doors and whatever may
hinder.
Flow down — That all impediments might be
removed out of the way: possibly an allusion to God's coming down upon mount
Sinai, in those terrible flames of fire.
Verse 2
[2] As when the melting fire burneth, the fire causeth the
waters to boil, to make thy name known to thine adversaries, that the nations
may tremble at thy presence!
Fire — Come with such zeal for thy people, that the solid
mountains may be no more before thy breath, than metal that runs, or water that
boils by the force of a vehement fire.
Known — That thine enemies may know thy power, and that thy
name may be dreaded among them.
Verse 3
[3] When thou didst terrible things which we looked not for,
thou camest down, the mountains flowed down at thy presence.
Terrible things — This may relate to what he did
among the Egyptians, tho' it be not recorded, and afterward in the wilderness.
Looked not for — Such things as we could never
expect.
Mountains — Kings, princes, and potentates,
may metaphorically be understood by these mountains.
Verse 4
[4] For since the beginning of the world men have not heard,
nor perceived by the ear, neither hath the eye seen, O God, beside thee, what
he hath prepared for him that waiteth for him.
Besides thee — This is to be applied to all the
wonderful works, that God at all times wrought for his people: and thus they
are a plea with God, that they might well expect such things from him now, that
had done such wonderful things for their fathers.
Waiteth — This may be taken with reference both to the state of
grace and glory, those incomprehensible things that are exhibited through
Christ in the mysteries of the gospel.
Verse 5
[5] Thou meetest him that rejoiceth and worketh
righteousness, those that remember thee in thy ways: behold, thou art wroth;
for we have sinned: in those is continuance, and we shall be saved.
Meetest — As the father the prodigal.
Worketh — That rejoices to work righteousness.
Continuance — To those that work righteousness.
Be saved — In so doing, in working righteousness.
Verse 6
[6] But we are all as an unclean thing, and all our
righteousnesses are as filthy rags; and we all do fade as a leaf; and our
iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away.
Unclean — Formerly there were some that feared thee; but now we
are all as one polluted mass, nothing of good left in us by reason of an
universal degeneracy.
And all — The very best of us all are no better than the
uncleanest things.
Taken — Carried away to Babylon, as leaves hurried away by a
boisterous wind.
Verse 7
[7] And there is none that calleth upon thy name, that
stirreth up himself to take hold of thee: for thou hast hid thy face from us,
and hast consumed us, because of our iniquities.
That calleth — That call upon thee as they
ought.
Take hold — Either to stay thee from
departing from us, or to fetch thee back when departed.
Verse 8
[8] But now, O LORD, thou art our father; we are the clay,
and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand.
Our father — Notwithstanding all this thou art
our father both by creation, and by adoption, therefore pity us thy children.
Verse 9
[9] Be not wroth very sore, O LORD, neither remember
iniquity for ever: behold, see, we beseech thee, we are all thy people.
Thy people — Thou hast no people in covenant
but us, and wilt thou not leave thyself a people in the world?
Verse 11
[11] Our holy and our beautiful house, where our fathers
praised thee, is burned up with fire: and all our pleasant things are laid
waste.
Pleasant things — The king's palace, and the houses
of the nobles, and other pieces of state and magnificence.
Verse 12
[12] Wilt thou refrain thyself for these things, O LORD? wilt
thou hold thy peace, and afflict us very sore?
Wilt thou — Do none of these things move thee
to take vengeance? Thy peace - Wilt thou be as one that regards not?
── John Wesley《Explanatory Notes on Isaiah》
64 Chapter 64
Verse 1-2
Oh that Thou wouldest rend the heavens
Prayer for Divine manifestation
I.
This
is nothing less than A PRAYER THAT GOD WOULD MANIFEST HIMSELF AS A JUDGE--yes,
and as a Destroyer. Isaiah craved for a man who should deliver men from the
oppressions of the world’s tyranny, from the storms which are raised by the
passions of peoples and rulers, from the weariness and exhaustion which follows
when they have accomplished their projects with great labour, and nothing comes
out of them. He longed that the true man should appear, who would thoroughly
manifest the ways ann purposes of the true God, who would remove the thick veil
which had intercepted His light from reaching His creatures, who would make
them know that He was present with them, that He was ruling and judging them.
To long, then, for a Man who should be a hiding-place from the tempest and a
covert from the storm or heat was the very same thing as to long that God would
rend the heavens and come down.
II. THERE IS A
NATURAL HEART IN ALL OF US WHICH IS AVERSE FROM THIS PRAYER. And there is a
natural religion which adapts itself to these cravings of ours, and supplies
them with a language. To keep God at a distance from men is the end which it
proposes to itself; to convert all persons who perform its offices, all prayers
and dogmas, into barriers more or less secure against His appearing, and His vengeance,
is its art. This religion expresses all different feelings of men, in different
conditions of disease. It does not express the one common feeling of men, to be
raised out of their diseases, to be made whole. The universal prayer--the
prayer that goes up from the whole heart of humanity--is this of Isaiah.
III. THE PROPHET HAD
BEEN DISCIPLINED TO UNDERSTAND THAT MAN DOES NOT REQUIRE TO BE PROTECTED
AGAINST GOD, but that God should protect him against himself, and should raise
him out of the slavery which he invents for himself. Thus did he learn to
rejoice, even while he trembled, at the convulsions in the outward world, or in
human society. Thus did he understand that by all such signs God was avenging
the cause of the poor, of those who had no helper, was shaking kings on their
thrones, was surprising the hypocrites. Thus was Isaiah made into the
evangelical prophet, the witness that unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is
given, who can be a covert from the tempest, because He is both the Son of man
and the Son of God; because God appearing in Him does indeed rend the heavens
and come down. (F. D. Maurice, M. A.)
The hearts cry
Here is a voice, resonant, magnificent, full of heart-chords, that
says, Break up the scheme of nature and rebuild it, only thou Heart of things
come to us? We catch our best selves in our best reality when we are thus
impassioned. The zoologist or physiologist tells us that animals can only move
when they are warm; they can only move in proportion as the sun is in them. It is
the sun that makes the bird fly, it is the sun that made the little serpent
leap up into your way and flash into the woods like a glare of light in
darkness. We move by the sun. So, in a higher sense, in the larger, richer
realms of education and culture and growth, we are moved by inspiration, not by
information. (J. Parker, D. D.)
Irresistible Divine manifestation
Jehovah is to descend with such irresistible force as fire exerts
on brushwood and water, kindling the one, making the other boil, in order by
such a display of power to impress His name (revealing itself judicially,
therefore, “in fire,” Isaiah 30:27; Isaiah 66:15) on HIS adversaries, and
that,(idolatrous) nations may tremble before Him (cf. Psalms 68:2 f.). (F. Delitzsch, D. D.)
Verses 1-12
Verse 3
When Thou didst terrible things
“Terrible things”
A standing phrase for the marvels of the Exodus, the type of the
great final deliverance (Deuteronomy 10:21; 2Sa Psalms 106:22).
(Prof. T. K. Cheyne, D. D.)
Divine surprises
Isaiah pleads with God to return to His chosen people, and restore
their former peace and prosperity. He makes use of the past as an argument for
the future, and recites the wonderful acts of God in days gone by as an
encouragement to expect that He would do the like again. If it were not that
God is unchangeable, no inference could be drawn from His past behaviour toward
us; but inasmuch as He is immutably the same, we may safely infer that what He
has done He will de again.
I. Let us meditate
upon the fact that THE DIVINE PRESENCE IS THE ONE HOPE OF THE PEOPLE OF GOD.
The prophet shows that he believed this, for he commences the chapter by a most
ardent cry to God that He would come into the midst of His people. A little
before this (Isaiah 63:15) he had prayed, “Look down
from heaven;” but it is the characteristic of true prayer that it grows as it
proceeds: he begins by asking God to look down; but he gathers intensity of
desire and confidence of faith, and here he cries, “Come down.” So eager is he
that God should come, and come at once, that he speaks to Him as though
addressing a warrior who lingered in his tent while a battle was raging, who
would be so eager to rush to the help of his friends that he would not stay to
remove the canvas or to lift the curtain, but would rend a way for himself
through the canopy to come at once to the deliverance of those who called him
to the rescue. It was through the open heavens that Christ went in where He now
stands to plead for us, and by that open heaven the sacred Spirit descended to
rest upon the Church. The impetuous character of the simile here used shows
that the prophet looked upon the Divine visitation as the one thing needful for
Israel. Is not this the prayer of every true heart that knows the need of the
Church and the need of the age. We do not so much require more ministers, or
more eloquent teachers, but more of the sacred presence. We do not want wealth
in the Church, or magnificent buildings, but we crave above all things that the
living God will refresh His people. The desire of the prophet in the present
instance is abundantly justified by the history of God’s people in all times:
for when the tribes were in Egypt what could set them free from the iron
bondage?--what but the presence of God? So was it when their marchings were
through the lone wilderness. The favour of God is the hope of all HIS people.
First, we see this in the person of our Lord Jesus Christ. The world must have
perished if God had not come down to it in the person of His dear Son. So, too,
when the Lord Jesus comes to us by His Spirit our hope begins. And our hope of
the perfection of our salvation still lies in the coming of Christ to us. Until
our Lord’s glorious advent, the presence of the Holy Spirit in the Church is
our only dependence for success in air that we attempt. The presence of God is
essential to each one of us if we are to be saved.
II. WHEN THE LORD
COMES HIS PRESENCE CREATES GREAT SURPRISES. “When Thou didst terrible things
that we looked not for, Thou earnest down.” It has always been so. Even the
most expectant among men have found their expectations far exceeded; while
those who have been depressed, and have prophesied things, have been altogether
taken aback to see the goodness of the Lord. How is it that we continue to be
surprised at what God does? First, because our largest conceptions of God fall
short of the truth. Besides, our experience of God is very brief. We have lived
as yet only for a span, or a hand’s breadth. Besides that, our faith is
shamefully weak, and does not look out for great things. Surprising mercies
tend to rouse our gratitude. How much God is glorified by His people when He
does things they looked not for. Their neighbours are surprised,
III. THE PRESENCE OF
GOD DISSOLVES DIFFICULTIES. “The mountains flowed down at Thy presence.” Israel
had enemies which were strong and powerful, nations and kings towered above
them like great mountains, but whenever God came to help them the kingdoms
dissolved, the people were conquered, and the mountains and hills were laid
low. At this present time great systems of error oppose the Gospel of Jesus
Christ. The Church only needs the Divine presence in the midst of her, and all
the systems of error will flow down at His feet like glaciers which dissolve in
the summer sun. Many hearts arc hard as granite rocks; you may pray for them,
talk to them, preach to them, but all in vain. What is required is the presence
of God, and then hearts of stone are turned to flesh. Within our own selves
also we may see mountains of difficulty, but if we go to Christ, and so obtain
God’s help, every mountain shall sink and every rock melt.
IV. WE MAY EXPECT
TO SEE THE SAME RESULTS FROM THE DIVINE PRESENCE TO-DAY, and to-morrow, and as
long as we live. God is the same. There are things to be done yet by God which
will astonish us beyond measure. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Verse 4
Yet since the beginning of the world men have not heard
God absolutely alone in His graciousness
“From of old men have not heard, nor perceived, nor has eye seen a
God beside Thee, who acted for him that waits for Him.
” (F. Delitzsch, D. D.)
Mystery revealed
There is perhaps, nothing more likely to withhold us from a
diligent process of self-examination as to our position in reference to heaven,
or to induce a sort of belief that such self-examination may safely be spared,
because we have not sufficient material for conducting it, than the convenient
supposition of the incomprehensibleness of heaven, and our utter incompetence
with our present set of faculties to the understanding what heaven is. The
words of our text are those which St. Paul quotes, when he says--“Eye hath not
seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things
which God hath prepared for them that love Him.” And there are no words more
frequently or more unhesitatingly quoted than these, as if it were heaven which
the writer had in view. This is only an instance of popular misapplication of
Scripture. The words may, indeed, be accommodated to heaven; but as used,
whether by Isaiah or St. Paul, they have nothing whatever to do with heaven;
and it is nothing but by that common habit of detaching a text from the
context, and thus suiting it to our own purpose without concern as to the drift
of the writer, that the words are in every one’s mouth whensoever discourse
turns on the invisible world.
I. CONSIDER WHAT
IS THE TRUE IMPORT AND MEANING OF THE PASSAGE, whether as it occurs in the
writings of Isaiah, or those of St. Paul. The chapter in which our text occurs
contains an earnest prayer for the manifestation of God’s power, and this
prayer is generally considered as that of the first converts from among the
dispersed Jews, when the nation of Israel shall be about to be reunited in the
Church. It is a devout and most importunate call for some such mighty
interference as had been vouchsafed to Israel in earlier days, when God made
“bare His holy arm, and wrought wondrously on behalf of His people.” Those
words are a declaration that when God shall interfere, as we yet believe that
He will, on behalf of His ancient people, gathering them from their dispersion,
engrafting them into His Church, and reinstating them in the land from which
they have so long been exiled, there will be such exhibitions of His greatness,
and goodness, and awfulness, as shall immeasurably surpass the expectations
even of those who, most diligent in remembering the marvels of old, have also
been most patient in awaiting the fulfilment of the long-cherished promise.
Without going more at length into an examination of the prayer recorded by
Isaiah, we may safely say that it is not to heaven that the suppliants refer
when they use the language “Eye hath not seen,” etc. And if, as used by the
prophet, the words do not refer to heaven, do they as thus used by the apostle?
(1 Corinthians 2:1-16). You can
hardly fail to perceive, if you look attentively at the context, that it is the
Gospel of which St. Paul speaks--the plan of salvation through Christ, and Him
crucified. And it is to this Gospel that he applies the words which are so
commonly quoted, as though he spake of heaven. What are his next words?
“But God hath revealed them unto us by His Spirit.” So, then, you
see the mysteriousness of which St. Paul speaks was at an end.
II. We wish to
suppose that the words were used of heaven, and to EXAMINE WHETHER EVEN THEN
THEY WOULD AT ALL WARRANT MEN IN NOT ENDEAVOURING TO ASCERTAIN THEIR FITNESS
FOR THE “INHERITANCE OF THE SAINTS.” We believe of heaven, that its joys far
transcend our highest imaginations, and are only imperfectly, if at all, to be
apprehended by our present senses and feelings, w e are not afraid to say of
heaven--“Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart
of man, the things which God hath laid up for the righteous,” but do the words
prove that we can know nothing about heaven? Then, what mean the words which so
immediately follow--“But God hath revealed them unto us by His Spirit”! Heaven
is a mystery to the natural man. Its joys are such as lie beyond his
comprehension; so that if described to him, they do not come home to his
understanding. Its occupations are such that, when mentioned, they appear to
him as if they must be burdens, so devoid are they of the elements for which he
possesses any relish or taste. It is not, however, thus with the spiritual man.
Unto him there hath come a revelation of the happiness of heaven, seeing that
he has whisperings even now of that holiness which is happiness, and therefore
can understand, and will be taught to feel that happiness is to be “holy even
as God is holy. We tell you of heaven as of that whereof there hath been made a
revelation to every believer in the felt agreement between what is told him of
happiness hereafter, and what is experienced by him of happiness here. And it
is just one of the worst delusions to which any man can make himself a prey to
suppose that he may have a place prepared for him in heaven, and yet be without
proof that he is himself being prepared for that place. Heaven is not so much a
place as it is a character; neither is hell so much a place as it is a
character. You may already decide whether you are in possession of the tastes
without which you could not enjoy heaven, without which you could not find it
heaven, even if through some strange distribution you were admitted amongst its
inmates. Submit yourselves to the Spirit; obey His impulses; follow His
suggestions; cherish His presence; dread His absence. And thus may you become
gradually fitted for that blessed abode which “Eye hath not seen,” but which,
nevertheless, may be so unfolded to those who are so growing in grace, that
they can already,, drink of that river which proceedeth “from the throne of
God, and of the Lamb, and already join in the anthem of the redeemed. (H.
Melvill, B. D.)
Verse 5
Thou meetest him that rejoiceth
The godly man
I.
THE
GODLY MAN’S CONDUCT.
1. He worketh righteousness. He does not confine himself to any
department of action, it may be manual, commercial, literary, scientific,
professional; but in all he “worketh righteousness.” He is right in all;
rectitude, and not expediency, is his law.
2. He is happy in his work. He “rejoiceth and worketh.” A man that
worketh righteousness is sure to be happy; his affections will be harmonious,
his conscience will smile on him, his God will bless him. There is no
happiness, “but in work; and there is no happiness in work that is not the work
of Thy ways.” God has His ways and His methods of action, and they are
manifold. He remembers God in His ways in nature, in the government of man, in the
dispensations of redeeming grace.
II. THE GODLY MAN’S
COMPANION. “Thou (i.e. God) meetest him that rejoiceth.” Such men have meetings
with God.
1. Conscious meetings. All men meet with God, but they, are
unconscious of it. The good man knows it; he can say, “God is in this place.
2. Loving meetings. He meets him as the father met the prodigal son
on his return, overflowing with love and joy.
3. Preparatory meetings. He meets them to prepare them for a meeting
with Him that shall be uninterupted, beatific, and eternal. Conclusion: What a
noble life is the life of godliness! Godliness is “profitable unto all things,
etc. (Homilist.)
How to meet God
In these ancient words, in very different phraseology indeed, we
see a strikingly accurate and full anticipation of the very central teaching of
Paul and his brother apostles, as to the way by which God and man come into
union with one another. “Thou meetest him that rejoiceth”--that joy is to be
manifested by “ working righteousness,” but the joywhich is the parent of
righteousness is the child of something else--“those that remember Thee in Thy
ways.” If we ponder these words, and carefully mark their relation to each
other, we may discern, as it were, a great staircase with three flights in it,
and at the top God’s face.
I. WE HAVE TO
BEGIN WITH THE LAST CLAUSE OF OUR TEXT. “Thou meetest him . . . that remembers
Thee in Thy ways.” The first stage on the road which will bring any man into,
and keep any man in, contact with God, and loving fellowship- with Him, is the
contemplation of His character, as it is made known to us by His acts. God,
like man, is known by His “fruits.” You cannot get at a clear conception of God
by speculation, or by thinking about Him or about what He is in Himself. Lay
hold of the clue of His acts, and it leads you straight into His heart. But the
act of acts, in which the whole Godhead concurs, in which all its depths and
preciousness are concentrated, like wine in a golden cup, is the incarnation
and life and death of Jesus Christ our Lord. But note that word “Remember,” for
it suggests the warning that such contemplation of the ways of the Lord will
not be realized by us without effort. There are so many things within us to
draw us away; the duties and joys and sorrows of life so insist upon having a
place in our hearts and thoughts, that assuredly, unless by resolute effort,
frequently repeated, we clear a space in this crowded and chattering
marketplace of life, where we can stand and gaze on the white summits far
beyond the bustling crowd, we shall never see them, though they are visible
from every place. Unless you try to remember, you will certainly forget.
II. THE SECOND
FLIGHT OF THIS GREAT STAIRCASE IS POINTED OUT IN THE FIRST CLAUSE OF MY TEXT,
“Thou meetest him that rejoiceth.” That meditative remembrance of the ways of
God will be the parent of holy joy which will bring God near to our heart.
Alas, it is too often the very opposite of true that men’s joys are such as to
bring God to them. The excitement and often the impure elements that mingle
with what the world calls “joy” are such as to shut Him out from us. But there
is a gladness which comes from the contemplation of Him as He is, and as He is
known by His “ways” to be, which brings us very near to God, and God
very near to us. I think that we have largely lost the very thought that
gladness is a plain Christian duty, to be striven after in the appropriate
manner which my text suggests, and certainly to be secured if we seek it in the
right way.
III. THE THIRD STAGE
IS WORKING RIGHTEOUSNESS BECAUSE OF SUCH JOY. “Thou meetest him that rejoiceth,
and”--because he does--“worketh righteousness.” Every master knows how much
more work can be got out of a servant that works with a cheery heart than out
of one that is driven reluctantly to his task. You remember our Lord’s parable
where He traces idleness to fear: “I knew thee that thou wast an austere man,
gathering where thou didst not strew, and I was afraid, and I went and hid thy
talent.” No work was got out of that servant because “there was no joy in him.
The opposite state of mind--diligence in righteous work, inspired by gladness
which in its turn is inspired by the remembrance of God’s ways--is the mark of
a true servant of God. And the gladness which is wholesome and blessed, and is
“joy in the Lord, will manifest itself by efflorescing into all holiness and
all loftiness and largeness of obedience.
IV. WE HAVE THE
LANDING-PLACE TO WHICH THE STAIR LEADS. God comes to such a man. He meets him
indeed at all the stages, for there is a blessed communion with God that
springs immediately from remembering Him in His ways, and a still more blessed
one that springs from rejoicing in His felt friendship and Fatherhood, and a
yet more blessed one that comes from practical righteousness. For if there is
anything that breaks our communion with God, it is that there linger in our
lives evils which make it impossible for God and us to come close together.
Remember if there is the practice of evil there cannot be the sunshine of the presence
of God. But remember, too, that the commonest, homeliest, smallest, most
secular tasks may become the very highest steps of the staircase that brings us
into His presence. Conclusion: There are two kinds of meeting God. “Thou
meetest him that rejoiceth and worketh righteousness,” and that is blessed, as
when Christ met the two disciples on the road to Emmaus. There is another kind
of meeting with God. “Thou meetest him that rejoiceth and worketh
righteousness,” and that is blessed, as when Christ met the two disciples on
the road to Emmaus. There is another kind of meeting with God. “Who, making
war, sitteth not down first, and consulteth whether he be able with ten
thousand to meet him that cometh against him with twenty thousand? (A.
Maclaren, D. D.)
Behold, Thou art wroth
An obscure passage
Text obscure. Possibly, “Behold Thou wast wroth, and we sinned;
Thy wrath was for ever, and we became transgressors.” The general idea is that,
through God’s wrath long continued, the people have sunk ever deeper into sin
(cf. Isaiah 57:17; Isaiah 63:17; Koran, 27:4). (A.
B.Davidson, D. D.)
Behold, Thou, Thou wast entered, and we stood as sinners; already
we have long been in this state; and shall we be saved?” (F. Delitzsch, D.
D.)
Verses 6-8
But we are all as an unclean thing
Israel’s uncleanness
“And we are all become as one unclean”--in a ceremonial sense,
like the leper.
(Prof. Skinner, D. D.)
Lamentations of Isaiah
You have read some of the lamentations of Jeremiah; here is one of
the lamentations of Isaiah. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
The Church’s complaint and confidence
I. A HUMBLE
CONFESSION OF SIN.
1. Of the sins of their nature, of their persons themselves. “We are
all as an unclean thing.”
2. Of the sins of actions. “All our righteousness is as filthy rags.”
3. Of the sin of non-proficiency, of obscuration, and senselessness,
that notwithstanding the corrections of God, they were little the better.
“There is none that calleth upon Thy name, or that stirs up himself to take
hold of Thee.’
II. A HUMBLE
COMPLAINT OF THE MISERABLE ESTATE THEY WERE IN BY THEIR SINS. “We all fade as a
leaf,” etc.
III. A HUMBLE
SUPPLICATION AND DEPRECATION TO GOD (Isaiah 64:8, etc.). (R. Sibbes, D. D.)
A comprehensive confession
This brief prayer is a combination of many types. Natural
analogies are piled upon each other. The confession consists of six several but
consecutive and closely connected parts. There is much meaning in each separate
ingredient of this confession considered by itself, and more in the relations
and union of the whole.
I. THE TAINT OF
SIN, that from the springs of humanity has poisoned all its streams. “We are
all as an unclean thing.” When who has been convinced by the Spirit takes words
and turns to God, he begins at the heart, as the spring whence the many unclean
streams of thoughts and words and deeds flow out in the daily life. This
simplicity is a mark of truth.
II. THE
WORTHLESSNESS AND POSITIVE LOATHSOMENESS OF ALL THE EFFORTS WHICH A SINFUL MAN
CAN MAKE TO SET HIMSELF AT FIRST RIGHT WITH GOD. “All our righteousnesses are
as filthy rags.” Most naturally this ingredient of the confession comes next in
order. He looked first to his sins, and told what he thought of them; he next
looks to his righteousness.
III. THE FRAILTY,
UNCERTAINTY, AND SHORTNESS OF HUMAN LIFE. “We all do fade as a leaf.”
IV. THE POWER AND
SUCCESS OF INTERNAL CORRUPTION IN HURRYING THE MAN INTO ACTUAL SIN. “Our”
iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away.” It is a mark Of true repentance
when the penitent lays all the blame upon himself
V. THE INABILITY
AND UNWILLINGNESS OF THESE HELPLESS SINNERS, AS THEY ARE DRIFTING DOWN THE
STREAM OF SIN TOWARDS THE GULF OF PERDITION, TO LIFT THEMSELVES UP AND TAKE
HOLD ON GOD. “There is none that calleth upon Thy name, that stirreth up
himself to take hold of Thee.”
VI. GOD’S METHOD OF
DEALING WITH SUCH UP CASE. “Thou hast hid Thy face from us.” The Holy One hides
His face from His creatures while they live in sin. “And hast consumed us because
of our iniquities.” I prefer to take this clause in its most literal sense, as
it is given in the margin--“Thou hast melted us by the hand of our iniquities.”
God melts the hardest sinners, and He employs their own sins to make the flinty
hearts flow down. If this melting take effect in the day of grace, it is
repentance unto life. But if the sinful are not so melted in the day of grace,
they will be melted when that day is done. Their own sins on their own heads
will be at least a material part of the doom of the lost in the great Day.
After having looked to the text, we shall look at that which touches it, before
and behind. The gem is the chief object of attraction, but its setting may be
both beautiful and precious. The word that touches it on the one side (end of Isaiah 64:5) is, “We shall be saved;” the
word that touches it on the other side (beginning of Isaiah 64:8) is, “But now, O Lord, Thou
art our Father. It is not by chance that this great deep confession lies
between these two words--is held up and held out in these two tender, loving
hands. “We are saved by hope,” not by terror. (W. Arnot, D. D.)
The banefulness of sin
I. SIN IS A
DEFILING POWER. “We are all as an unclean thing.” Sin makes the soul as
unlovely as a man in filth. The soul ought not to be unclean.
The stain of sin does not belong to it, it is separable from it.
Once the soul had no stain.
II. SIN IS AN
IMPOVERISHING POWER. “All our righteousnesses are as filthy rags.” Moral
character is indeed the garment of the soul, the garment which it weaves out of
its thoughts, emotions, purposes, and actual deeds. This garment ought to be
one beautiful whole, and clean also. But through sin it is all in “rags.” There
is no unity, no wholeness, no completeness. It is all in tatters, and filthy
tatters too. Sin indeed makes the soul ugly and hateful. How unlovely is every
aspect of sin.
III. SIN IS A
WITHERING POWER. “We all do fade as a leaf.” Sin blasts the hopes, pollutes the
loves, curtails the liberty, dims the vision, deadens the conscience, and
enfeebles all the faculties and powers of the soul.,
IV. SIN IS A
VIOLENT POWER. “Our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away.” (Homilist.)
A sight of self
I. I HAVE TO
DESCRIBE THE VIEW WHICH EVERY TRULY GRACIOUS SOUL WILL TAKE OF HIMSELF.
1. Every gracious soul who is truly enlightened by the Spirit has a
clear sense of the root of all his guiltiness. He knows the plague of his own
heart, and cries, “We are all as an unclean thing. He discovers that not merely
his outward acts, but his very person is essentially sinful in the sight of
God.
2. The spiritually enlightened man then perceives that all his
actions are evil. “All our righteousnesses are as filthy rags.” If our
righteousnesses are so bad, what must our unrighteousnesses be?
3. The enlightened heart into which the candle of the Lord hath
shone, is led to see the failure and futility of all its resolutions to be
better. “We all do fade as a leaf.” Our best professions, hopes, resolutions,
and pretensions--all of them fade like shadows, dreams, and fancies of the
brain.
4. But the truly awakened soul knows a fourth thing, namely, that he
is not in himself able to stand against the invasions of temptation, for the
text has put it--“Our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away. When men
find that their vows wither, yet they will still hang to their hopes, and to
their moralities; but some strong temptation comes unexpectedly upon them just
at the moment when their mind is susceptible of its power, and where are they?
The temptation comes like a howling north wind at an unexpected moment, and
where is your man now? Unable to resist, carried away by the very vice which he
thought he had renounced.
5. Those souls upon whom God’s sunlight had once shone are also
painfully aware of their own natural weakness and slothfulness in prayer.
“There is none that calleth upon Thy name,’ etc.
6. That soul which has once perceived itself in the black colours of
its iniquity, has discovered that through sin it has lost all the favour and
love of God which might have come if it had been without sin, for so saith the
text, “For Thou hast hid Thy face from us, etc it is no thing to play with that
hiding of God’s face. When the prophet says, “Thou hast consumed us, it is a
dreadful word.
II. There is a
danger I must warn you of, and that is--DO NOT BE CONTENT WITH THE MERE
KNOWLEDGE THAT IT IS SO. You must not merely know that you are lost, but you
must feel it. Do not be content with simply feeling that it is so, but mourn
before God that it is so, and hate yourself that it is so. Do not look upon it
as being a misfortune, but as being your own wilful sin, and look upon
yourselves, therefore, as being sinners, condemned already, not only for all
this, but condemned because you believe not on Christ, for that after all is
the crowning condemnation. And when you really feel your sinfulness, and mourn
it, do not stop here; never give yourself any rest till you know that you are
delivered from it.
III. THE TEXT SEEMS
TO SUGGEST SOME PLEAS. Poor troubled soul, I am afraid thou canst not use the
first one mentioned in the text--“Thou art my Father! “ I am half afraid you
have not faith enough for that, but if you have, what a prevailing plea it is!
“My Father, I have sinned, but I am Thy son, though not worthy to be so called;
my Father, by a father’s love forgive, forgive Thine erring one; by the bowels
of Thy compassion have mercy upon me! “ You who have backslidden can plead
this, for you know your adoption. But if that should be too hard for you, take
the next plea. Say, “Lord, I am the clay and Thou the potter; I am helpless
like the clay which cannot fashion itself; I am worthless like the clay that is
of no value; I am filthy, Lord, like clay! I am only worthy to be trodden under
foot, but Thou art the potter, and potters can make fine things even of clay.
Here I am, Lord; I put myself into Thy hand. I am nothing; make me what Thou
wouldst have me to be.’ Will not that plea suffice? But hark thee, sinner.
There is a sweeter plea than any in the verse before us, for this is an Old
Testament text; but I must take thee to the New Testament of our Lord and Saviour
Jesus Christ for the plea that never fails. It is this, “Lord, it is written
that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; if there was never a
sinner in the world but one, that sinner I am. I trust myself in His hands to
save me.” It is done, it is done. You are saved; you are “accepted in the
Beloved.” (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Confession of sin
1. The greatest and noblest souls, striving after the loftiest and
divinest aims, have been most sensible of fault and failure in their lives, and
have in their confessions borne hardest upon the weakness and sinfulness of
human nature. Not when men are sunk in depths of vice and sensuality; but when
they are struggling upwards to difficult, impossible heights of virtue and
nobleness, are they seized with the “strong crying and tears” which pours
itself forth in such language as this, in David’s fifty-first psalm, in Paul’s
“I am the chief of sinners.” It is not the utter depravity of human nature, but
rather a rare goodness and nobleness which expresses itself in the language of
confession, of which this is a specimen.
2. Read it thus, and it is true and simple. Apparently when the
prophet wrote these words his countrymen had just returned from captivity, and
were again established at Jerusalem--Jerusalem laid waste, and its crown and
ornament, “the holy and beautiful house of God,” trampled in the dust.
Something had been learned by the captives in their long and miserable exile.
There was a lesson taught them now by their desolate homes and overturned altars.
But still, to an earnest and far-seeing mind, there was manifest the need of a
much wider and deeper religious reformation than had yet been accomplished.
Before the nation could be again what it once was, it had much to learn and
much to unlearn. It was a superficial and partial work which adversity had yet
done in the way of curing the evils which had brought adversity in their train.
With painful certainty and distinctness this was evident to the prophet. His
soul was burdened to think of it, and he burst out, in his grief, with the
confession as for himself and his country--“We are all as an unclean thing, and
all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags; and we all do fade as a leaf; and
our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away.
3. It is easy to imagine a prophetic mind of our own country and our
own time using similar language to express similar feelings. We have a great
deal to be proud of as a nation. Much that is British is great and noble. On
the surface of things we appear to be a very religious, as well as an
industrious and prosperous people. Our Protestant institutions are, no doubt,
many of them admirable. But can you imagine any very sincere, penetrating,
religious mind, one impressed little by material prosperity and sensitive to moral
and spiritual conditions, looking beneath the surface of our national life,
contemplating all the dishonesty in trade and manufactures, the corruption of
morals among the rich, the low intelligence, superstition, vile tastes of the
mob, the religious cant and conventionality, the bitter rivalry of sects, which
exist along with our Protestant institutions, and not be forced to say--“We are
all as an unclean thing, and all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags, and
our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away ‘--we are not a great and
glorious people; “we all do fade as a leaf”? As the language of
confession--confession being the act not of the vile, but of the noble--we read
thislanguage, and the application of it to national life is plain.
4. In this light it is no less easy to apply it to individual life
and conduct. Strive to be true and good after the example of Christ, and it
will be easy, perhaps, to satisfy both the world and the Church that you are
successful in the endeavour; but if your aim is really to live Christ’s life
you will not so easily satisfy yourself--you will only at the best succeed far
enough to be conscious of immeasurable failure. Compared with the good you
ought to win, any good to which you attain will appear to you miserable
failure. Thus, this language in its own light is easily seen to be true. In any
other light it is false. He that doeth righteousness is righteous. I know that
right things may be done from wrong motives, and with inferior views, and I
know that they are not then of the same quality or value as if they were done
from right impulses and with the highest aims. I know, too, that if a man
breaks one of the commandments he is in a sense guilty of all, and cannot set
himself up as a perfect man, or as a more deserving man than another who has
broken all the ten. But then right is right, and wrong is wrong, be it in saint
or sinner, and nothing can make these two opposites change places, or have the
same character or issues. Wrong is eternally to be feared and hated; right is
eternally to be loved and sought after. Suppose you know you are wrong in much,
if there is anything in which you are right, do not consider that to be filthy
rags--die rather than surrender it to force or fraud. It was not to render our
righteousness superfluous, or to certify that any of our righteousness is
worthless, that Christ lived and died; it was to make us truly righteous, to
bind us in a new covenant with God our Father, to be the servants only of
righteousness. (J. Service, D. D.)
All our righteousnesses
are as filthy rags
“Filthy rags
“Rags” is a word that applies to worn and torn bits of cloth; when
used otherwise to designate apparel, contempt is implied. The word employed by
Isaiah has no such import. It is the same word that describes part of what
Abraham’s steward presented to Rebekah--“jewels of silver and jewels of gold
and raiment.” Are we to imagine that rags have any similarity to the gold and
silver jewels, or are likely to be among the gifts offered in the name of a wealthy
sheik to a gentle lady whose favour is sought as the bride of the son of
promise? Besides, when a Hebrew meant “rags” he had a word for it A proverb
tells how drowsiness shall clothe one with rags; and here the word is very
different from Isaiah’s. Hence it is well that the revisers put “garment”
instead of “rags” in the prophet’s phrase, which may thereby become less
striking and splenetic, but is certainly truer to the prophet’s thought. It is
not for translators to inject their own feelings into their author’s words.
Equally erroneous is the adjective “filthy,” or even “polluted,” as the
revisers have it. It is, of course, admissible, and may be elegant to construe
a governed noun as an adjective, as is the case here; but the adjective should
be a congruous one at least Isaiah’s governed word has no reference whatever to
filth. Had the expression been Zechariah s, where he speaks, with more force
than courtesy, of Joshua’s “dungy robes ‘ no fault could be found with filthy
as a rendering; for there is no question that either Joshua’s robes are
represented as literally smeared with filth, or else the prophet held them in
as great disgust as if it had been so, just as Paul scorned even his privileges
as “dung” compared with the blessings he enjoyed in Christ. If Isaiah had
expressed the like scorn, it would have been fair so to put it; but as the
translators had to add the contempt, it is plain they imported into their
original what was not there. The word chosen by Isaiah denotes something over
and above. Proof is something beyond one’s bare word; and an ornament is
something over and above what is plain. Our word, then, means proof, evidence,
or witness, and also display or ornament. Besides, being plural, it has special
emphasis. The literal rendering, then, is “a garment of testimonies, or of
infallible proof;” or “a garment of ornaments, or of great display.” To suggest
adjectives for the governed nouns, the translation comes to be “an evidential
article of clothing,” or “a showy dress.” The first of the these
interpretations was adopted by Aquila, a very old and apparently well-skilled
translator, who improved upon the Septuagint. He gives “marturion” as the Greek
equivalent; and on this Jerome has a note in which he observes, “This is
testimoniorum,” which means “of testimonies,” and then goes on to refer to the
Deuteronomic enactment concerning the scandal raised by a husband accusing his
wife on the score of impurity before marriage. In such a case, a cloth smeared
with blood, as it came from the injured woman’s person, was a sufficient proof
of pre-nuptial purity as well as of the consummation of matrimony. Looked at in
this light. Isaiah’s phrase has great capacity of suggestiveness. Our good
deeds attest our “inward and hidden intercourse with the Lord, and prove that
with Him only in all purity we have had to do, But there is a stain even on our
purest thoughts and deeds. Our second interpretation, however, yields” the
better sense. It takes into account,, the previous clause; and, in the light of
it, both clauses are thus paraphrased: We are all like an unclean woman, and
all our righteous acts like her showy attire.” The meaning is simple and clear.
Outward show takes the place of inward reality. Perhaps their loathing of the
strumpet’s airs begot contempt in the translators’ hearts for anything that is
describable in those terms. Their rendering reminds us of Zephaniah’s indignant
description of degenerate prophets: “Her prophets are debauched
wretches--cloaks!” This corresponds with the old Scottish definition of a
formal clergy--“toom tabards,” that is, empty gowns, all cloak and nothing
inside. The life is taken out of Zephaniah’s fierce protest when it is smoothed
down to “light and deceitful persons,” as in the ordinary version. When David
invites Israel’s daughters to weep for Saul, he reminds them of the fashions of
Saul’s period, “with delights,” referring to the modiste’s art with a fine
appreciation of a woman’s weakness for finery; and the word is akin to Isaiah’s
“clothing of dazzling display.” Here is “devotion’s every grace, except the
heart.” The prophet seeks more heart and clean. (H. Rose Rae.)
We all do fade as a leaf
The lesson of the leaf
As Christ drew a lesson from the lily, so may we from the leaf.
Yet the words of the prophet, “We all do fade as a leaf,’ may lead our thoughts
in a different way from his. These words were originally spoken in lamentation
over the wrecked glory of the temple and city of David, as devastated by
Nebuchadnezzar with fire and sword. No fitter similitude of the sad change
could the mourning prophet find than the faded leaf. Those dilapidated walls,
those fire-scarred ruins of Jerusalem and Zion, brought to his mind the
magnificent creations of the shepherd king and his illustrious son, only as the
crushed and blackened leaf recalls the image of the glorious crown of spring.
But to us the lessons of the fading leaf become spiritually instructive, as we
bring to bear the light which science has afforded us respecting the nature and
the uses of its short life, the meaning of its fading, and the real
significance of its death. We learn that the reality is different from the
seeming, both as regards the life of the leaf and its death. We find a-nobler
meaning in the life of the leaf, and that imparts a nobler meaning to its
death. And the lesson thus derived brings us consolation and strengthening as
we apply it to some of the sadder experiences of mortal life. (J. M. Whiton,
D. D.)
Usefulness of the leaf
For the tree itself, says the botanist, the leaf is both stomach
and lungs.
1. A single elm has been computed to possess in one summer five acres
of leaves; each leaf a wonderful tissue of nerves and pores and cells and
veins. In these countless cells, invisible to the unassisted eye, the sunlight
enables the living plant to do its work. In these cells the mineral matter
ascending from the roots dissolved in the sap, and the gaseous matter drunk in
through the pores from the air, are mingled, and converted by the chemistry of
the sunbeam into food for the tree. This then is carried by the leaf-veins into
the twigs, adown the branches and the trunk, and is deposited under the bark in
a ring of woody fibre. Another portion also goes to form the nutritious fruit
and another the reproductive seed. Thus the frail leaf, gay, beautiful, musical
as it is, is yet ever at God’s work, providing man with material for the
necessities, comforts and luxuries of his life. Most true, in creation as well
as in redemption, is the apostle’s saying, that “God hath chosen the
weak things of the world, and things which are despised hath God chosen.”
2. But this is not all of the useful duty to which God has chosen the
fair and short-lived leaf. The gas which the leaf-cell sucks from the air, and
helps to change into fibre, is poisonous to animal life, and must not
accumulate in the atmosphere. The same office that the coral insect performs
for the sea, to keep the great fountain of waters pure, the leaf performs for
that aerial ocean from whose pure tides we drink our life. A mark of dignity
has the Creator bestowed on all useful labour, however humble, by giving the
glory of the forest, and the beauty of the many-coloured coralline gardens
beneath the waves, to organisms that discharge for Him the duty of scavengers!
The carbonic acid gas produced by all our fires, and by the myriads of
breathing creatures, is absorbed from the air by the leaf through its countless
pores. In the leaf-cells, this noxious element is decomposed; part is worked up
into food for the tree, and the residue, containing all that is fit for animals
to breathe again, is given back to the vital air. Measure, if it were possible,
by cubic feet of wood, all the trees upon the globe. Forty-five per cent of the
whole mass is the solidified poison of the atmosphere, extracted by the subtle
chemistry of the leaf. How grandly beneficent is its humble life?
3. The leaf draws water from the ground through the thousands of
tubes in its stem--eight hundred barrels, says a scientist, from every
leaf-covered acre every twenty-four hours. This it gives out to the atmosphere
in the form of invisible vapour, to be condensed into clouds and fall in
showers--the very water which, were it not for the leaf, would either escape
infreshets or filter through the ground to the caverns below. Thus the leaf
works to bring upon the earth the early and the latter rain.
4. And now comes on its change. It is a change that comes most
naturally and honourably as the leaf fulfils its beneficent tasks. It is in and
by its useful work that the leaf changes from the pulpy thing it was in May to
a thing of firmer texture. And so we learn to look upon it rather as a ripening
than a decaying, when, as its work draws near the end, it begins to borrow less
from earth and more from heaven. The splendours of October, surpassing the
tenderness of May, and the sober dignity of August, fitly crown the close of a
life that has been so useful. (J. M. Whiton, D. D.)
Life and death
Let us now take up the truth taught us by the leaf into the higher
regions of the experience of the soul. There, too, the reality may be other
than the seeming. There, too, to rectify our view of life will be to rectify
our view of death. What is the life of the leaf? The child replies: To dance in
the sun, to play with the breeze, to listen idly to the song of birds. What,
then, is its death! The loss of all for which it lived, faded beauty, a broken
form, hurled from a proud and peaceful height into the mire of the street, a
dishonoured and pitiable wreck. Nay, what is the life of the leaf? The teacher
tells the child: To nourish the stock that bore it; to prepare abundant
supplies for the life and the labours of man; the fuel that warms, the fruit
that feeds, the roof that shelters, the vehicles of commerce by land and sea,
that draw the nations into one, the sanctuaries vocal with a nobler praise than
that which is warbled through the forest arches. It is to cleanse and vivify
the vital air, and thus preserve in healthy vigour the blood of man and beast.
It is to send the rain upon the pastures, that feed the cattle on a thousand
hills, and on the cornfields that nourish the great family of mankind. What,
then, is its death? It is the fulfilment of the good end it lives for, a
growing hard and brown in beneficent work, a ripening through constant
usefulness into the many-coloured tints of splendid autumn, a putting on of the
God-given decorations of ennobled labour; it is a settling into an honoured
grave all purpled like a king; it is a resigning of an outworn form to that
Providence which treasures up each particle of faithful dust to enter into
fresh forms of life and beauty in coming springs. How plainly we see here that
different ideas of the purpose of the life lead to different ideas of what the
death really is. If we would transform our thought of death, we must transform
our thought of life. (J. M.Whiton, D. D.)
Lessons from the leaves
Three applications of the prophet’s language--
I. TO MAN, AS HE
IS A SINNER. Man’s condition through sin is the primary idea. “Our iniquities,
like the wind, have taken us away.”
1. The fading leaves are separated from the source of their life and
growth and beauty. They are no longer in vital union with the root of the tree.
They may hang for a while, but are sure speedily to fall. Any passing gust may
carry them away. The soul of man through sin has, lost spiritual with God, the
source of its true life, and has become faded and shrivelled through the
separation.
2. The fading leaves yield no response to, receive no benefit from,
the natural influences that act upon them for their life and growth. The
prophet says of Israel, “There is none that calleth upon Thy name, that
stirreth up himself to take hold of Thee.”
3. The fading leaves, as they fall from the tree, are out of their
true sphere, and exposed to all degrading forces. The prophet has in his mind
leaves that had faded unnaturally, and that should still have lived in
greenness and beauty upon the tree. Lying on the ground, trampled down by man
and beast, when they should have been waving high like a warrior’s plume. Man
through sin has fallen from his true sphere. He is the sport of evil passions,
subject to all degrading and hurtful forces. The emblem of his condition is a
faded, fallen leaf, whirled about by the winds, trampled down and tossed about
by man and beast.
4. The fading leaves are practically useless and worthless. They are
of no value to the tree, nor yet to man. A sinner is one who renders no true
and intelligent service to his God, and brings no real benefit to the great
tree of humanity.
II. TO MAN, AS HE
MORTAL. In man, as in nature, the same law of decay is acting.
III. TO MAN, AS HE
IS A CHRISTIAN BELIEVER. Reversing the picture, and excluding the prophet’s
application, there is hope and consolation spoken by the fading leaves.
1. The fading ]eaves have fulfilled the purpose of their being and
life. The Christian, whether he fade soon or late, has not lived in vain.
2. The fading leaves are clothed with the richest and most varied
colours. The Christian, us life is closing, often shines with a spiritual
richness and lustre never seen before.
3. The fading leaves tell of the infinite skill and care of the
Creator. Wonderful is the interest God takes in His people. “Not one faileth to
the ground without your Father.”
4. The fading leaves do not perish. They come back in other forms,
and serve other uses. The Christian can take higher and surer ground. He shall
live again, live the being he now is, live never again to fade. (Homiletic
Magazine.)
Fading leaves
I. LEAVES FADE
GRADUALLY. The whole foliage of a tree does not fade and pass away at one time.
Some leaves droop and wither even in spring, when the rest of the foliage is in
its brightest and most luxuriant beauty. Some are torn away in summer, while
green and full of sap, by sudden and violent storms. The great majority fade
and fall in autumn; while a few cling to the branches all through the cold and
desolation of winter, and are at last pushed off by the unfolding buds of the
following spring. And is it not so with every generation? Decay and death
everywhere and always reign. But all do not fade at the same time. Sonic die in
the spring of life; some are cut off’ suddenly, by accidents and fatal
diseases, in ripe manhood; some fade naturally in the autumn of old age. A few
survive their generation, like the last red leaves that rustle mournfully in
the winter wind on the topmost bough of the tree. Friend after friend departs,
family after family disappears, until the mournful record shall be written of
us as it was written of the Hebrews of old--“And Joseph died, and all his
brethren, and all that generation.”
II. LEAVES FADE
SILENTLY. All the processes of nature are silent and secret. It is God’s glory
to conceal a matter. And so silently do we all fade.
III. LEAVES FADE
DIFFERENTLY. The autumnal foliage is very varied. No two species of trees
exhibit the same appearance. And are there not similar differences in the way
in which men fade and die? In the hey-day of life and happiness they may seem
all alike, uniformly fair and attractive. But when death comes, it shows the
true character of each. Its approach makes some men gloomy and sombre. It
invests them with a dark and repulsive aspect. It clothes them with despair.
But how widely different is the dying of the Christian! The idea of death to
them has nothing death-like in it.
IV. LEAVES FADE
CHARACTERISTICALLY. The foliage that is gloomiest in its unfolding, is most
unsightly in its decay; and the leaves that have the richest and tenderest
shade of green in April, have the most brilliant rainbow hues in October. The
leaf of the sad and sullen ash is the last to kindle its bud, and the first to
wither and fall; and its colour, always sombre, becomes blackened and
disfigured in decay. The leaf of the linden tree, on the contrary, is beautiful
from first to last; softly green in spring; fragrant in summer with delicate
frankincense, and musical with the hum of bees, revelling in the honey-dew
bloom; and gorgeous as a sunset-cloud in autumn. And so is it with man. “He
dies as he lives. A life of godliness ends in a saintly death; and a career of
worldliness and sin terminates in impenitence and despair. And as the fading
itself is characteristic, so also are the results of the fading. The leaves of
some trees when they fall, leave no trace what ever behind. The scar left by
their removal heals immediately; and on the smooth, naked bark of the bough, in
winter, there is no mark to indicate that it was once covered with foliage.
There are other trees, however, on which the scars are permanent. Many of the
characteristic markings on the stems of palm-trees and tree-ferns are due to
the permanence of these scars, when their leaves have decayed and dropped off.
And is not the lesson of analogy here very clear and impressive? How many there
are who fade and drop off from the tree of humanity, and leave no trace of
their existence behind. Others there are, large-minded and large-hearted men,
who live not for themselves, but for the glory of God and the good of their
fellow-creatures; these when they fade and drop off the tree of life, leave
behind them an impression which time will only make deeper.
V. LEAVES FADE
PREPAREDLY. No leaf falls from the tree--unless wrenched off suddenly and
unexpectedly in early growth by external violence--without making due
preparation re its departure. Before the slightest discoloration is seen upon
it, there is a secret adequate provision made by nature for the inevitable hour
of its passing away. Side by side with it, even in its summer beauty and luxuriance,
it carries the memorial at once of its death and of a new birth. It bears the
young bud that is to usurp its place in its bosom, and nourishes it with its
own expiring life. This law of the vegetable kingdom is one that knows no
exception. No leaf drops till a new one is prepared to take its place; no
flower perishes till its house is made ready and filled with seeds. Alas, how
different is it in human economy! Provision for the future is with man not the
law, but the exception, of his conduct. Should we not imitate the example of
the leaf in which the process of preparation for the future keeps pace with the
process of decay? (H. Macmillan, D. D.)
Leaves
I. THIS LEAF
TEACHES US THE GOSPEL OF SERVICE. It has lived, it has had its day. It falls to
perish by the wayside, but it has not lived in vain. When that leaf breathes it
takes up carbon and exhales oxygen. When we breathe we take in oxygen. You
could not live without the leaf. It keeps the atmosphere pure. It prevents it
from becoming poisonous. You are indebted to the leaf for your life. But you
say, “That, after all, is but a selfish life; the leaf takes up what it
requires, and it throws off what it does not require. Where is your gospel of
service in that?” Yes; but it does something else; while feeding itself, it
also feeds the tree upon which it grows. It is making the timber as well as
satisfying its own needs. Without leaves we should have no wood for our houses,
our furniture, or our fires. They die, leaving others to carry on their uncompleted
work, but they always build firm, and straight and beautiful. So this little
preacher says to us, “Live for great purposes, build for the future. You are
but one unit in the great mass of living, toiling men, but remember that you
can do a work for the generations to come. Leave the world fairer, and better,
and stronger, and sweeter because you have lived. Men die, but man remains. You
will go as your fathers have gone before you, but Society will remain behind.”
And then there is such a thing as service continuing after death. “Dead and
done with is not true of a leaf, much less of a man. The scientist tells us how
by its decay the leaf is changed into vegetable mould, indispensable for the
life of other leaves. Thus the decay of vegetation prepares the way for a new
vegetation, and death prepares for life. So also is not a man done with when he
is dead. There are many who rule from their graves.
II. THIS LEAF ALSO
PREACHES TO MEN THE GOSPEL OF A TRIUMPHANT DEATH. How beautiful Nature is, even
in decay i Like an Indian warrior chief, she gathers around her her finery in
order to meet death. So the gospel that the leaf has to teach us is a hopeful
and a bright one. It is the lesson of triumphant death. After this life,
another. “How are the dead raised, and with what manner of body do they come?”
is an old question. Where will the leaves of next spring come from T Is it a
more wonderful thing to clothe the living soul with a new body than to clothe
the apparently dead tree with a new and beautiful foliage? (S. Horton.)
Withered leaves
I. THE LEAF FADES
SURELY. If there is one thing more absolutely and infallibly certain than
another, it is that we all die (Genesis 3:19; Hebrews 9:27). We die at every age.
II. THE LEAF FADES
SOON. Some kinds of leaves last longer than others; but, as a class, their
natural life is a single summer. There is prodigality in this. If economy of
life were aimed at, the leaf might last much longer than it does. So might the
May-fly. So might man.
1. What a testimony to the wealth of creative energy!
2. What an argument in favour of economizing time!
3. What a spur to the life of watchfulness!
III. THE LEAF FADES
WHEN THE ENDS OF ITS EXISTENCE HAVE BEEN SERVED. “None of us liveth to
himself;” nor could we if we would.
IV. WHEN THE LEAF
FALLS IT PROVIDES MATERIALS FOR THE FOLIAGE OF ANOTHER YEAR. The fall of a leaf
and its decay are not the end of it or of its work. There is something still
for it to do, and which it never could do till then. Decaying leaven are the
earth’s great fertilizers. The thing we do is immortal whatever its moral
quality. The father, the mother, live again in children moulded by their
influence. Of all responsibilities there is none so terrible as this. We are
contributing, by our life, a poison or a honey drop to the life-cup of
posterity. (J. Edgar Henry, M. A.)
The frailty of man
I. LET US
ENDEAVOUR. TO DISCOVER WHAT IS IMPLIED IN THE DESCRIPTION OF DEATH GIVEN US IN
THESE WORDS.
1. We fade, like the leaves, soon.
2. Quickly.
3. The approaches of death may be lovely. The woods are never more
beautiful than during the brief period of autumnal change. So our time of decay
may be more beautiful than our summer time of health and activity, and “nothing
in our life become us like the leaving of it.” The hoary head becomes a crown
of glory,--the patience of’ the Christian vanquishing the temptations to
petulance and repining that affliction presents,--the hope of the believer
shining clear and steady when he knows that he must soon depart,--are things
that often give to the approaches of death more interest and loveliness than
life has enjoyed.
4. “We all do fade as u leaf” in point of certainty.
5. How wide is the empire of death, and how many he has brought into
his dark dominions; in every track the leaves are falling, and no favoured
portion of the country escapes the general desolation. How many autumns has death
had among men since first his reign began! Our fathers, where are they? Where
are those hordes of painted barbarians, whose savage courage stayed so long the
progress of the Roman legions? Where are those who erected in our land those
ancient piles that were dedicated to the worship of God amid the darkness of
the Middle Ages Where are those who led the devotions there, and those who
joined in them? Where are they who but a hundred years ago ploughed the fields
that you now cultivate, listened to the Gospel that is now proclaimed to us,
and walked in the paths that we are accustomed to tread? They are gone, and we
arc going fast.
II. THE PRACTICAL
USE THAT SHOULD BE MADE OF THE TRUTH BROUGHT BEFORE US IN THE TEXT. The great
lesson we should learn is to make ready for our fading time. But there are
various circumstances that go far to account for this very common, almost
universal forgetfulness of death. First, one cause may be that we see little of
the sick and dying. In the next place, death has no periods corresponding to
the general fall of the leaf. Again, when we are in the enjoyment of good
health, we feel nothing death-like about us. Then our worldly employments
accustom our minds to a different train of thinking from that more serious one
which brings death to our view, and tend to turn our thoughts from it. But the
chief cause of the forgetfulness of death is to be found in the systematic
attempt that is made by most men to banish the remembrance of it from their
minds. (W. Jackson.)
We natural frailty and moral instability of man
This affecting declaration of the prophet may be considered with
reference--
I. TO THE NATURAL
VIGOUR OF MAN.
II. TO THE MORAL
BEAUTY OF MAN. That goodness which natural conscience, enlightened by the words
of revelation, produces; that goodness which is the effect of imitation, and
the offspring of moral rather than pious principles; and of conviction rather
than conversion; is fading as the frailest leaf of the frailest plant, and
transient as the morning cloud and the early dew. Let it be exposed to the
wintry blasts of adversity, or to the scorching sun of persecution; place it in
the cold atmosphere of the world; and let the chilling influence of the world’s
indifference be felt by it--and what appearance does it assume? It is fading as
a leaf. If your goodness fades as a leaf, have you not much need of being born
of that incorruptible seed which liveth and abideth for ever? But even then you
will feel yourselves subject to a measure of the same instability and decay.
For the words of the text and the whole passage in which they are found seem to
be a description, not of careless sinners without grace, but of the people of
God, in all the declensions to which they are liable in their best estate. (M.
Jackson.)
I. OF THE ABIDING
SUPERINTENDENCE OF GOD. “Leaves have their time to fall.” They do not come and
go at haphazard. They have lived, and now they fade and die, subject to His
laws who sweetly ordereth all that is. The orderly return of the seasons tells
how this is no haphazard world. God keeps His hand on all forces, material and
spiritual.
Autumn
The falling leaves speak to us--
II. OF FULFILLED
PURPOSE. Just as neither their rise nor fall, their springing nor fading was
accidental, so their life is not a vague, aimless thing. There was design in
their creation, and as they silently sink to the earth they speak to us of a
life’s work done. What have they done?
1. They have given added charm and beauty to the world. Here is a
mission we may all well covet to fill, and which we may all fill. Whatever our
position in life, however poor or lowly, we may so be and live that this shall
be morally a fairer world because we are in it.
2. By their shade and shelter they have rendered valuable service to
man and beast. So many around us arc weary under the burden and heat of life’s
day. Many a struggling man, and many a frail, lonely, overwrought woman knows
all too well what this life-weariness means. Let the mission of the leaves be
ours.
3. They have played an important part in purifying the atmosphere.
They say to us, “So live that when you fade and fall like us you may have done
your part to make the world purer.”
III. OF LIFE’S
CLOSE. (R. M. Spoor.)
Autumn
And how often does a leaf fade sooner than it falls! And is it not
so with man? If spared, how soon does he begin to discover infirmities! But to
enable us to judge properly in this case, and to vindicate the Divine
perfections and providence, let us remember--
1. That this state of frailty and vanity was not the original state
of man, but the consequence of transgression.
2. That it is not his only state. There is another life to which the
present is introductory, and in connection with which it should always be
considered.
3. The vanity and brevity of the present life, if wisely improved, is
advantageous with regard to the future. It furnishes us with no inconsiderable
proof of a world to come.
4. This frail life, too, is continually guarded by a wise and tender
Providence. Reflections: If life be like a fading leaf, let us regard it
accordingly. Let it prevent despair. If life be short, thy troubles cannot, O
Christian, be long. Let us also repress fear. It is little the most powerful
can do, and before they strike they may fall. (W. Jay.)
“Hints of failing health”
In the preface to his “Data of Ethics,” Mr. Herbert Spencer says
(1879) that he has been led to deviate from his original plan and publish this
volume rather than go on with his general system of philosophy. Why? Because
“hints of failing health” remind him that he may not be able to finish the
entire work, and he therefore wishes to make sure of the most important part.
Oh that men would act on this principle as regards the salvation of their
souls! (T. R. Stevenson.)
“We all fade as a leaf”
1. He means, first, in regard of ceremonial performances that were
without vigour and spirit of true devotion. There was no spirit in their legal
performances. They were dead, empty things. Therefore when judgment came they
were as leaves. So an idle, careless hearer, when judgment comes, all is as
leaves.
2. So it is true in regard of mortality, the vanity of health and
strength. We all as a leaf fade away when God’s judgments come to nip us. Men
are as leaves; as the leaves now in autumn fall, and there is a new generation
in the spring.
3. For all idle performances, that have not a foundation in
substantial piety, they are all as leaves. (R. Sibbes, D. D.)
“As the leaf”
I. LIKE THE
FOLIAGE, WE FADE GRADUALLY. Little by little. Pain by pain. Less steady of
limb. Sight not so clear. Ear not so alert. After awhile we take a staff. Then,
after much resistance we come to spectacles. Instead of bounding into a
vehicle, we are willing to be helped in. At last the octogenarian falls.
II. LIKE THE LEAF
WE FADE, TO MAKE ROOM FOR OTHERS. Next year’s forests will be as grandly
foliaged as this. So, when we go others take our spheres. Do not be disturbed
as you see good and great men die. When God takes one man away, He has another
right back of him.
III. AS WITH THE
LEAVES WE FADE AND FALL AMID MYRIADS OF OTHERS.
IV. AS WITH VARIETY
OF APPEARANCE THE LEAVES DEPART, SO DO WE. You have noticed that some trees, at
the first touch of frost, lose their beauty. So death smites many. There is no
beauty in their departure. One sharp frost of sickness, or one blast of the
cold waters and they are gone. No tinge of hope. No prophecy of heaven. Their
spring was all abloom with bright prospects; their summer thick foliaged with
opportunities; but October came and their glory went. But, thank God, that is
not the way people always die. Tell me, on what day of all the year the leaves
of the woodbine are as bright as they are to-day? So Christian character is
never so attractive as in the dying hour. (T. De Witt Talmage, D. D.)
Fading away
But although spiritual decay may be the literal application of
these words, they truly express the universal law of our mortal life.
I. THE LEAF FADES
BY A NECESSARY LAW. There is no power that can keep the foliage on the tree. So
we must decay. Man may and does dread death; he may and does seek to prolong
life; but he cannot by any invention or art counteract that resistless law of
decay that has swept all past generations to the dust, and that is day after
day, and hour after hour, working out his dissolution.
II. THE LEAF FADES
BY A GRADUAL PROCESS. So it is with life. In infancy, childhood, manhood, as
well as old age, the fading process goes on. The gradualness of decay is a
blessing. It allows time to prepare for the future. It prevents a stand-still
in the machinery of the world’s work.
III. THE LEAF FADES
INTO ITS PRIMITIVE ELEMENTS. It is only organized dust. It falls and to dust it
returns. So it is with man. These bodies will in a few years be trodden on by
the beast or borne away by the winds. What a great variety there is in the
foliage of nature. Some leaves are larger and decked in more lovely hues than
others. Some grow in a richer soil, and are breathed on by more salubrious
winds than others. But let a few weeks pass away and all these distinctions
will be lost, all will be dust. It is ever so in society. We see there great
variety. Some are in wealth, some in poverty; some in velvet, some in fustian;
some in beauty, some in deformity; some in the pomp of power, and some in the
misery of oppression. But let a few years pass round, and our princes and
peasants, sovereigns and subjects, despots and serfs, masters and menials will
be dust.
IV. THE LEAF FADES
AS PREPARATORY TO A NEW LIFE. The leaf falls, but its place is soon supplied.
It falls, in fact, because the new life, rising from the root, has pushed it
off. So with us. We die, but others will step into our place, and the world
will go on. The race will carry on its governments, its commerce, its
literature, its religion, without our help. It may require our death, make our
very death serve its interests. Let us, then, not be proud of our position.
V. THE LEAF FADES
AS A PROGRESSIVE STAGE OF LIFE. The tree from which the leaf fell is not dead.
It threw off the sere leaf to put on another and lovelier garment. As the
vitality of the tree continues when the leaf falls, the life of man will remain
when the body dies. And like the tree, that life will dress itself in another
garb. I would call your attention to four states of mind existing in relation
to this fact, one of which must be yours--
1. Unreasoning indifference. “Oh that men were wise that they would
consider their latter end!”
2. Intellectual stoicism. There are some who look at death as the end
of existence. It must be done, by reasoning down reason into folly, mind into
matter, God into nature. How few can do this; and when they do it, have they
rest?
3. Terrible foreboding.
4. Christian composure. Which of these states of mind in relation to
our approaching mortality is the rational one? I need not ask which is the
happiest one; that is obvious. (Homilist.)
Fading and changing
(with 1 Corinthians 15:51):--We know how
many signs and symptoms there are in life which suggest the truthfulness of the
figure. You cannot take a hill now as once you could. It makes your breathing
v, burden, and the slightest incline wearies and tires you out. It all means
the fading leafs Your eyes are giving you trouble. The glasses that served you
ten years ago are of little use to you now. It is the fading leaf! You very
frequently have to ask your friends to repeat their words. You are inclined to
think it is because they mumble and murmur their speech. Nay, it is the fading
leaf! There is your memory. Lately it has begun to play tricks with you, a
thing it has never done before. It is the fading leaf! All these are signs,
common signs, that the prime has been reached, that the leaf has begun to fade.
“We all do fade as a leaf!” Such is the Old Testament conception of life--a
fading leaf. Is it a complete conception, or is it only partial and
fragmentary? It is the conception of the Old Testament, is it the conception of
the New? So far I have only given you one half of my text. Now let me give you
the other half. I have taken it from Paul’s Epistle to the Corinthians: “We
shall all be changed.” Now put the two conceptions side by side. “We all do
fade as a leaf; “We shall all be changed.” The Old Testament prophet looked
upon men and women who were beginning to feel the weaknesses and infirmities of
age, and he said, “They are beginning to fade.” The New Testament prophet
looked upon men and women becoming burdened with similar weaknesses, and he ,s,
aid, “They are beginning to change.” “Fading” is the Old Testament word;
changing is the word of the New; and in the two words you will find the
characteristic differences in the two conceptions. One looks at the body; the
other looks at the soul. Here is a flower-bud, in its early stages encased in
its wondrous sheath of green. After a while the sheath begins to open, to turn
back, to droop and to die. Isaiah looks at the drooping sheath, and says,
“Fading.” Paul looks at the unfolding flower, and says, “Changing.” One looks
at the body which can fade; the other looks at the soul, the unfolding life,
which can change but never fade. One looks at the vesture, the other looks at
the man. Now we know which is the Christian standpoint. Christianity warns us
again and again not to confuse the man’s body with the man, but always to
distinguish between them, and to make the distinction a vital and influential
article of our faith. When some, one has passed away, the inquiry is often made
by one friend of another, When are they going to bury him? Bury him? Never!
He cannot be buried! He is not here to be buried; he is risen! Bury him? No,
you bury it; you bury his body, you bury that which has faded; you
cannot bury the man. “Well, why not make that distinction as real in speech, as
it ought to be real in faith? I am told that “Mr. So-and-So is in a decline.
What do you mean? Do you mean that the man’s body is declining, or the man?
Immediately you reply, “The man’s body.’ Then why not keep the distinction to
the front, that when little children hear you speak, they may catch one of the
cardinal doctrines of your faith. The New Testament always keeps the two
distinct. It speaks of the body, the flesh, as a house; it speaks of the
spirit, the soul, as its tenant. The same distinction is made by another
figure. The New Testament describes my body as a robe. Look at that. Here are
outer garments of cotton and wool. Then there is another garment of flesh. And
then there is the soul, the man, the woman! That is the Christian
conception--the flesh is the garment, it is not the man! Tell your children
that growing old and infirm just means that the flesh garment is getting worse
for wear, and that the soul is preparing for itself another garment that will
never wear out, a spiritual garment, a garment of immortality and light! Tell
them that death just means that the spirit has dropped its old clothes, its
robe of flesh, and has clothed itself with the garment that is from heaven.
This is a beautiful conception, this apostolic conception of change. It takes our
eyes away from the temporal and fixes them upon the eternal. It takes the
emphasis away from the fading body and fixes it upon the changing spirit. (J.
H. Jowett, M. A.)
Autumnal characteristics
I. IN THE MUTE
ORGANS OF THE FADED LEAVES IS A TENDER WARNING. God turns every hill-side and
meadow into an allegory. The tiny little monarch grappled with life, captured
the forces of nature, and vigorously ministered all summer. But feebleness is
creeping over it, it grows weary, its lustre is fading, nerves waxing weak. It
rustles, it trembles in the gentle zephyr, and the, falls. “As the flowers of
the field, so man floursheth.” How tenderly God begins to warn us of the coming
king of terrors. Each leaf carries its own secrets, giving no premonition which
shall first fade. So tender is God’s mighty providence I No harsh voice calls
out, Set throe house in order, for thou shalt die and not live. The messenger
comes in a little rheum, a periodic pain, a little exhaustion of breath,
fainting moments, the love of ease, the failing of memory, and little changes
in the disposition. God hides the grim visage of fatality under shadows. But
the angel of death is absolutely there.
II. ON THE LEAF TWO
FORCES ARE EVER AT WORK: THE VITALIZING OR ORGANIZING, AND THE DISSOLVING OR
DECAYING. The coal-beds of the earth tell the story of the battles of these
powers contending for the supremacy. There are the generations of the faded and
fallen, metamorphosed, petrified, stratified. There are some leaves whose very
luxury causes them to decay. This is one of the mysteries of life among men.
The brilliant geniuses endowed with courage to inspire, intelligence to
enlighten, and sensibility to refine, being first misunderstood and then
misrepresented, contradicted, or embittered by neglect, their very richness of
soul and fatness of mind cause them to sicken under the pale hand of languor.
There are some gorgeous leaves which carry in themselves the beauty of the
blossom and leaf together. They die early. There is the young scholar, gorgeous
in intellect, prematurely ripening. His youth is adorned with loveliness. Of
the wealth of his graces we have but the prophecy in the bud. He has a face
like a cherub, and God sends His angel to pluck it while it is unsullied by the
scorching sun or the chills of autumn. At the other extreme is gorgeous old
age.
III. There is a
process of--injecting colour into the fibres of plants to make them bright or
sombre, as one may wish. Thus affected, THE LEAVES FADE DIFFERENTLY. There in
also a method of inoculating the life of man. To the character can be given the
bright tints of pleasure as of those who delight in goodness. When the heart is
inoculated with the graces of Christ the perspective of the character is
determined, the somber shades of despondency are transfigured. Some leaves are
flabby and develop a gloomy, morbid colour. They wither and decay as unsightly
things. Except for the grace of God, men born in a murky moral atmosphere
gather cloudiness and opacity as they grow older and perish in gloom. Some
leaves are beautiful from first to last. Like Samuel, they are dedicated from
birth to a whole life in the ministry of goodness. Such is many a Christian
life. The innocency of youth is beautified b a gracious spirit. Middle life
comes on in the strength of a righteous character.
IV. LEAVES IN
FADING DEVELOP SPECIFIC CHARACTERISTICS. Each species has its peculiar tints.
This represents the racial types of men in the development of their spiritual
or mental traits. When they come to fade and to die the individual trends of
character come forth in colours widely differing. The fatalism of the Chinaman
is joyless and fearless, a dogged indifference. The pantheism of the Brahmin
brings its devotee to sink into a gradual sleep, a dull withering. The Mohammedan,
whose heaven is sensual, has spasms of fearful passion. The Catholic, who has
been taught that ceremonies save him, in dying eagerly longs for a priest, a
cross, or extreme unction. The agnostic comes to his end glowing in the white
heat of apprehension. The true Christian has the face of one going home. Again,
family groups have their differentiation. On a given tree, all the leaves are
fashioned after a common type in colour, form, and texture. But as they grow
they acquire individual oddities. Even so, one family of people, nurtured by
the sap of a common civilization, develop the most striking idiosyncrasies.
V. THERE IS NO
DISGRACE IN FADING. Grey hairs area crown of glory when they are anointed with
goodness. If we have made good use of the sunshine, if the fruit of our labour
hangs in clusters on the vine, if in God’s vineyard we have faithfully
ministered, then the fading tints are our laurels. The fading shows two powers.
The spirit that animates the form is preparing the old trunk for dissolution.
Yet while it unties the twisted cords of earthly life it lifts up the
affections, dislodging the corruptible from the incorruptible, the mortal from
the immortal, and spiritualizes the mind. In one case the man goes on walking
with God until the fire of the flesh dies out, and the spirit is left aglowing.
In the other, passions may burn the soul into a cinder. Richness in fading
leaves is not an accident. It depends on sunshine, atmosphere and soil. The
beauty of age is the fruit of right character. It is the result of effort.
VI. The leaf fades,
falls, and becomes buried. But IN THE CORE OF THE RIPE LEAF WHILE PULSATING IN
THE SUNLIGHT, A JOYOUS YET MYSTERIOUS SOMETHING PASSES THROUGH THE STEM TO THE
TWIG UPON THE STURDY BOUGH. It leaves there a scar, the sign of the leafs
immortality, a nucleus of the new life to bud in the resurrection of the
spring. Among leaves are four degrees of future life. The first but lightly
marks the place of its departure, a mere trace as of a tear on a cheek not washed.
Inward life swells the branch and its memory is blotted out. The second class
leaves a scar which is not effaced, but no active life will come out of its
grave. The third will raise a little knoll and stamp its epitaph indelibly as
by a signet. No luxury of growth or biting frost can remove it. These little
monuments are the geometric scales on the bark of the palm and the fern. The
fourth class not only scar the tree, but leave behind the conditions of a new
germ which will bud and become a new branch. Here is a perfect emblem of four
classes of men. The first is the class who live only to themselves. The second
class are generous, liberal-hearted, and full of noble deeds. They have a
memory in their own times, but die with those who had personal knowledge of
them. The third class send down their roots into the soil of future
generations. They in-web their deeds in the fibre of history. They build
institutions of charity, bequeath to posterity resources which will develop a
better manhood. They are a sort of lepidodendron leaves. Their scale-marks are
fixed. The fourth class inspire new buds. They are the great thinkers. Out of
them come new branches of civilization. But some leaves have a small eternity.
Thousands of years ago they built great forests and bogs. They faded and fell.
Earthquake catastrophes buried them, and their graves are the coal-beds. To-day
they have a resurrection. The sun-power caught by the leaves millions of years
ago, to-day warms our homes, lights our streets, and creates thousands of
industries for the elevation of man. (T. Parry, D. D.)
The evanescence of human life
Let us follow the suggestions which our text furnishes upon--
I. THE CAUSES OF
HUMAN DECAY. Why should not man, and everything connected with him, be
immortal?
1. His present state seems to support a date to its existence. He is
a member of a mortal world, and its entire economy seems to suppose and
inexorably to work out his mortality. Everything announces its own dissolution.
The granite rock, which you would look upon as indestructible, at length gives
way, and crumbling down, forms the very soil you till. So, too, in the
vegetable world, whether among the frosts of the polar regions, or amid the
unvarying warmth of tropical climes. Thus, also, is it in the animal kingdom.
Here, everything is limited in its capabilities of life and growth.
2. Life has its friction which tasks its powers and wears them out.
3. Then, with the friction of a life of toil comes often the severe
discipline of a life of care, vexation and disappointed hopes.
4. But more common and trying than even this is the discipline of
pain to which life on earth is subject.
5. But there is still one more waster of life on earth. Sinful
pleasure sets its saddest seal upon the swollen or wasted, the scarred and the
disgraced form that comes under its blighting touch. ‘Tis sad to see the
beautiful plant, which you have nurtured with care, struck with frost before
its time; but how much more saddening to see the human form disfigured even in
the days of its south and strength by sinful excesses!
II. THE CERTAINTY
OF HUMAN DECAY. How certainly our life on earth fades and decays, we may learn
from the variety and the constant action of those causes of decay which we have
now noticed. The law of nature under which we live is an inexorable law; and
this law works out our decay.
III. THE RESULTS OF
THIS UNCEASING, THIS INEVITABLE PROCESS.
1. Human beauty decays.
2. Human activity flags.
3. Human strength fails.
4. The human intellect fails. The intellect we believe immortal; yet
it is true that in this world that intellect is dependent upon physical organs
for its successful exertions, and still more so for the manifestation of its
power. All old men arc obliged to show, if not confess, that they can no longer
think and plan as they could in the days of their strength.
5. Human affections feel and show this withering process.
6. One other step only is yet to be taken in this journey of decay.
That leaf, which for days has been turning pale, clinging still, though
tremblingly, to its hold on life, at last falls, not only faded, but dead. And
so, too, is it to be with us. (E. B. Huntington.)
A leaf exposed to a thousand dangers
Insects gnaw it off, the beasts of the field may devour it, winds
may scatter it, or it may be shaken down with the fruit. And, between the
diseases and accidents to which human nature is liable, comparatively few
attain old age. The Jews formerly reckoned up nine hundred and three diseases,
but accidents are absolutely innumerable. A vapour may cause death, our houses
may bury us in their ruins, our food may poison us. (W. Jay.)
The beauty of fading life
It is under the approaches of the autumnal chill and frost that
Faith puts on her beautiful apparel; Hope, her queenly robes; Love, her wedding
garment, as the heavenly Bridegroom’s steps draw near. The richest
manifestations of character; the communings that can never be forgotten; the
heroic forms of devotion and submission; the outgoings of affection too intense
for utterance, overflowing from the faltering tongue on eye and lip and
brow,--these belong to the chamber of illness and the bed of death. (A. P.
Peabody.)
Our iniquities, like the
wind, have taken us away
Sin a cruel tyrant
When God leaves us in the hand of our sins, He leaves us in a
cruel hand. (R. Sibbes, D. D.)
Verse 7
And there is none that calleth upon Thy name
Neglected religion
1.
There
is a confession of neglected privilege and duty. “There is none that calleth
upon Thy name.”
2. There is a definition of true and saving religion. “That stirreth
himself up to take hold of Thee.” This latter is the most striking and
important, for it shows what a man must do in order to approach God, the act
requiring exertion and activity. Multitudes of so-called Christians live on
without the semblance of devotion, while with many more this worship is a mere
matter of form.
I. WHAT ARE THE
CAUSES? There are many things which operate to make a man neglect God.
1. Devotion to the world. No man can serve two masters, and he who
loves the world cannot consistently love God.
2. Selfish indulgence. There are many who do not, strictly speaking,
love the world, who nevertheless so pamper their bodies with temporal comforts
that they sink down into a dreamy sloth.
3. Want of desire. Deadness of soul makes a man sluggish. If we keep
out of the sunshine, we cannot feel its warmth. If men hide from God, they can
neither desire nor love Him.
II. WHAT ARE THE CONSEQUENCES?
A terrible roll-call of iniquity and sin. Evil rolls on like the waves of the
troubled sea. Prayer-less souls are marching on to perdition; Satan triumphs
over the ungodly world; God is dishonoured; angels weep.
III. WHAT IS THE
REMEDY? Such reflections ought--
1. To arouse us to new efforts in prayer.
2. To excite us to greater personal efforts. We can all do something.
Many can do much.
3. To awaken us to indirect work. We can send others to preach and to
labour.
4. To see that we ourselves are not among those who fail to take
hold, and that our personal example is not hindering the progress of the truth.
(Homilist.)
Neglect of prayer
This chapter may be considered as an act of humiliation and
confession by the prophet, in behalf of the Jews, similar to that in the ninth
chapter of Daniel. In the text he aggravates their other crimes by that of
hypocrisy, for he does not mean by the expression that none called upon or
prayed to God at all, but that they did not do it spiritually, heartily, fervently.
The last clause in the sentence explains (as is common in the prophetic
writings) the former. “None calleth upon Thy name;” that is, “None stirreth up
himself to take hold of Thee.”
I. PRAYER,
PROPERLY SO CALLED, CONSISTS IN CERTAIN EXERCISES OF THE MIND.
1. Attention to our wants. Without this, prayer is vain babbling. Our
wants arise from our sinful conduct--our unholy nature--powerful
opposition--daily circumstances in our experience. Our state ought to be
asdiligently attended to as the most assiduous tradesman attends to his
business--as the humane physician attends to the symptoms of disease in his
patient.
2. Regard to God as the Being who alone can relieve us.
3. Strong and fervent desire.
4. Affiance in God.
5. Humble and patient expectation.
II. HOWEVER
FREQUENTLY OR FORCIBLY WE PRAY, IF OUR PRAYERS ARE SEPARATE AND DISTINCT FROM
THESE EXERCISES, WE SHALL BE REGARDED BY GOD AS THOUGH WE NEVER PRAYED AT
ALL--THAT IS, WE SHALL DERIVE NO BENEFIT FROM OUR SERVICES.
1. This will appear from the ancient Jews, who drew near to God with
their lips, but their hearts were far from Him.
2. That prayer must be distinguished hi right dispositions of the
mind, is evident from the very design of prayer Consider its parts--Adoration;
thanksgiving; confession: Intercession. The whole of this duty is designed to
promote piety, by working certain holy dispositions in our hearts, by the help
and blessing of God. Will not these remarks account for the barrenness of mere
professors? Christians, stir up the gift of God that is within you. (J.
Walker, D. D.)
Universal forgetfulness of God
Universal forgetfulness of God was the consequence of
self-incurred abandonment by God. (F. Delitzsch, D. D.)
The dully of taking hold of God
I. IT IMPLIES TO
TAKE HOLD OF GOD IN THE EXERCISE OF SAVING FAITH. Expressions almost the same
occur in this sense in two other parts of Isaiah Isaiah 27:5; Isaiah 56:6). To take hold of God, to
take hold of His strength, to take hold of His covenant, to join ourselves to
Him, all imply the one act of a sinner taking hold of Christ, or of God in
Christ in the exercise of saving faith. But this first and essential
exercise of saving faith is not what is principally referred to in our text.
There is, then--
II. A further
exercise implied in taking hold of God, one which true believers alone can
engage in, and one in which they may be very deficient. This exercise is
alluded to by the apostle Paul, in Philippians 3:12, where he Bays of
himself, “Not as though I had already attained, either were already perfect;
but I follow after, if that I may apprehend that for which also I am
apprehended of Christ Jesus. The Greek word translated “apprehend,”
corresponds, with the Hebrew word in our text translated “take hold of.”
Therefore, we Infer, that the second exercise implied in taking hold of God, is
TO APPREHEND HIS MORAL IMAGE. Those who are engaged in this exercise are
blessings to the world and to the Church, and are objects of complacency to
God.
III. The third great
exercise implied in taking hold of God is WRESTLING, IMPORTUNATE, PLEADING
PRAYER. It is not every kind even of acceptable prayer that deserves the name
of taking hold of God. Five ways may be mentioned in which a soul, through
pleading prayer, taketh hold of God.
1. By taking hold of or pleading His perfections. God call do nothing
contrary to His perfections. All His actings are the immediate result of them.
But it pleaseth Him that His saints should plead His perfections, and, as it
were, take hold of them in holy, humble, fervent importunity.
2. By pleading His relations to His people as Father, Creator,
Preserver and Redeemer.
3. By pleading His promises, declarations and engagements.
4. By pleading His past dealings. Thou hast begun a good work in my
soul; carry it on. Thou hast delivered Thy Church and people of old; do it now.
Thou hast shamed and confounded Thine enemies, when their pride and their might
were at the highest; shame and confound them now. Thou hast planted a vine in
our land; look down from heaven; revive and quicken this Thy vine.
5. By acquiescing in the sovereignty, and looking to the unsearchable
mercies of God. Conclusion: How lofty an exercise of soul it is to take hold of
God. How marvellous the thought, a worm of the dust to influence the thoughts
and operations of the Almighty God! It is a work too mighty for the feeble
powers of man. No creature ever did or could accomplish it, except so far as
strengthened by the Spirit. (W. Mackenzie.)
Lethargy in prayer
I. WE HAVE A
STRIKING DEFINITION OF TRUE PRAYER. It is a taking hold of God, in no material
sense, but by a spiritual apprehension so real and vivid that we seem to touch
the Angel of the Covenant and say, with realizing perception of His Presence:
“We will not let Thee go, except Thou bless us.’ This definition greatly helps us--
1. When, for instance, men insist that prayer is only acceptable as
it arises from special fanes, we can reply that the hand of faith may feel
after, find, and grasp the hand of God in the press of the busy street, the
woodland glade, and the sequestered chamber. Since God is everywhere we may
take hold of Him anywhere.
2. Again, when men tell us that prayers must be uttered in words of
solemn grandeur and rhythm, we may remind them that prayer is a taking hold of
God, and that it may exist in its intensest, truest form when not a word is
uttered.
3. When, again, men suggest that priestly intervention is necessary
to present our supplications, let us find refuge in this definition; for surely
God will as much allow Himself to be grasped by the ungloved hand of the
labourer, as by the dimpled hand of the little child. We need none to instruct
us how to take hold; and each can best take hold for his own preservation. The
intervention of a third person is indeed a source of weakness when it comes
between us and the gracious Hand which reaches down to draw us out of many and
deep waters.
II. THE GRIEVOUS
COMPLAINT. “There is none that stirreth up himself to take hold of Thee.” Why
this fatal lethargy?
1. In the case of some, it no doubt arises from the stupefying effect
of worldliness and self-indulgence. If the unwary traveller sits down to rest
in the forest or the cave, where gases lie heavily on the ground, they may so
invade his sense and benumb his mind that he will be presently unable to arouse
himself to further exertion. This is the state of the opium-eater and the
drunkard, of all who, like Tennyson’s Lotus-eaters, come under the fatal spell
of the narcotic. And is there not a mephitic poison issuing always from worldly
amusements and society?
2. In the case of others, lethargy in prayer arises from a mistaken
idea of the privilege of the child of God. They say that God is so wise and
good, that it is a mistake and a sin to seek to impose our will on Him; that it
is enough to take what He sends, and to bear what He imposes, without
attempting to interfere by the urging of our desires. But there is nothing of
this in the teachings of our Saviour. He perpetually says, Ask, seek, knock. He
evidently would have us regard prayer as a means of obtaining blessings which
otherwise we would altogether miss.
3. Others yield to this lethargy because they have intellectual
difficulties in respect to prayer. They point to the majestic reign of law, the
unbroken chain of cause and effect, the unalterable plan of the Divine
procedure. How can God rule the realm (and prayer is one of these) may be used
to cancel and overcome those of the lower. Besides, is it not enough that Jesus
prayed, and so unmistakably taught His disciples to do the same?
4. Yet others, again, do not stir themselves up to pray, because they
say that they have prayed so long in vain. Prayer, they say, is so irregular
and uncertain. There is no counting on it. Why, then, they argue, should they
waste time and energy on that which is as likely to disappoint as to help them
This latter difficulty is possibly the most common of all, and does more than
any other to relax men’s energy in prayer. It in of the utmost importance,
therefore, to insist that prayer has a law as constant and unchangeable as gravitation,
and if we do not succeed, it is because we are ourselves to blame. Nay, more,
if we seldom obtain answers to our prayers, we must examine carefully into the
cause; because, almost certainly, there is some flaw or fault in our own
character, by reason of which our prayers are as missives lost in the post, or
ships that have gone down at sea.
III. THE LAMENT OVER
THIS LETHARGY IN PRAYER.
1. It is very dangerous. The first step in spiritual declension is
almost invariably in the closet. The whole stress of Satanic temptation is to
induce us to relax our prayerfulness; and perhaps there is no time when we need
to pray more than when this fatal disinclination begins to creep over us.
2. It is very sinful. Is it not wrong to reject the advances of our
God, and refuse to comply with His commands to pray? This surely is a
dishonour, a slight, a crime.
3. It is very strange. It must be the wonder of the angels, as they
look on our tired and perplexed faces, amid our complicated cares, that we are
so slack in our approaches to the strongest, wisest, gentlest Being in the
universe, and are so reluctant to stir ourselves up to take hold of God. (Ills
of Faith.)
Self-influence
I. CERTAIN TRUTHS
WHICH THIS LAMENTATION IMPLIES.
1. That God was ready to receive them graciously.
2. That man is prone to be slow of heart to seek unto God.
3. That man may oppose that slowness of heart--may stir himself up to
take hold on God. Such was the view of Joshua when he said, “Incline your heart
unto the Lord God of Israel” (Joshua 24:23). This truth wasregarded by
the Lord Himself when He proclaimed, “Incline your ear,” etc. Isaiah 55:8). With a view to this, man
may stir up--
II. THE LAMENTATION
ITSELF. Of it we may emphatically say (Ezekiel 19:14), This is a lamentation,
and shall be for a lamentation.” Why?
1. On account of present loss. They “forsake their own mercies,”
wrong their own selves as to present good.
2. On account of the uncertainty of life on earth.
3. On account of the force of habit (Jeremiah 13:23). Through the force of
habit conscience may become so seared and the heart so hardened that the
likelihood may rapidly lessen of the deteriorated mind ever stilting itself up
to take hold on God. Let not the peculiarly encouraging character of the kind
call be overlooked--“Let him take hold of My strength.” (J. Elliot.)
No man to pray
(with Isaiah 62:1):--The general condition of
the nation was deplorable enough (Isaiah 64:6). But there was one vein of
sadness lying deeper than the sadness which filled the prophet’s heart because
of the condition of the people generally; he knew not of any man who was
,wounded and oppressed and driven to prayer as his only refuge, and as the
peoples only hope,, by this grievous state of things. One man may be a
Church’s, a city’s, a nation’s saviour. Indifference to all interests but our
own is a powerful narcotic which may put a Church or a nation to sleep. Perfect
is the picture of this luxurious, cynical indifference drawn by the prophet
Amos (Amos 6:1-6). This very indifference to
things not directly our own, to things not reckoned our own according to
conventional standards, is again and again spoken of in Scripture as a cause of
great astonishment to God; as if there was something too selfish, too cruel,
too unbrotherly in it to be believed; as if men could not be so careless of
what was good and right. “The Lord saw it, and it displeased Him that there was
no judgment, and He saw there was no man, and wondered that there was no
intercessor. He says, And I looked, and there was none to help; and I wondered
that there was none to uphold. He says again, “The People of the land have used
oppression,”, etc. (Ezekiel 22:29-30). And here it should be--distinctly
observed that the taking an interest In things beyond the narrow limits of our
own personal affairs is an interest full of tender concern, of self-abnegation,
of brotherly love. Many a harsh man can look over his own boundary walls to
grumble and find fault; but it was not the want of that of which Isaiah
complained. Many can sit in judgment and condemn; but it was not judgment of
that kind, that he wanted. He did not want any one bitterly to point out the
Church’s faults, heartlessly to mock at her nakedness and poverty,
self-righteously to cry shame upon her sir--he wanted a man to pray for her.
When there was no man who could or would shake off his selfish indolence to
pray for the Church, the prophet himself said, “For Zion’s sake I will not hold
my peace,” etc. Then, as if he were confident of success, and saw the fruits of
his prayers, and tears, and toils, he says, “And the Gentiles shall see Thy
righteousness, and all kings Thy glory,” etc. (Isaiah 62:2-4). Howdifferent this
attitude towards the Church to the cold selfishness which stands aloof
altogether, or comes from its seclusion only to complain, and, by disturbance,
to make bad worse! How different from the worldliness which is content for the
Church also to be worldly; for her glory to be hidden by carnal pleasures and
carnal things! How different from the mere denominational fervour--the fervour
for church or chapel, which is satisfied with outside show and with prosperity
that can be measured, and cares little or nothing for the growth of faith, hope
and love, for the baptism of the Holy Ghost, and for the salvation of souls ]
For Isaiah is bent upon seeing a Church whose righteousness should go forth as
brightness, whose salvation should go forth as a burning lamp; on whose glory
the Gentiles and kings should look; which should be named by a new name by the
mouth of the Lord Himself, a name indicating the delightful change that has
passed over her, and the new relation in which she stands to God and man. And
surely it is worth any Christian’s while to take up any good cause, in this
sympathetic way; to identify himself with it; to become responsible for it
before God and man and his own conscience. To do so is to follow the example of
all the noblest and holiest of our race, it is to follow the example of “ Him
who, though He was rich, for our sakes became poor, that we, through His
poverty, might be rich, identifying Himself in the most absolute manner with our
nature and our condition, until He redeemed us from all our sins, and raised us
to sit at His right hand in His kingdom. (J. P. Gladstone.)
Taking hold upon God
The prophet reveals the very essence and soul of prayer. It is a
stirring up of one’s self to take hold of God. The very soul of devotion lies
in realizing the Divine presence, in dealing with God as a real person, in firm
confidence in His faithfulness,--in a word, in “taking hold of Him.” Men do not
take hold of a shadow, they cannot grasp the unsubstantial fabric of a dream.
Taking hold implies something real which we grasp; and there is wanted to make”
prayer truthful and acceptable with God the grip and grasp of a tenacious
faith, which believes the fact that God is, and that He is the rewarder of them
that diligently seek Him. Taking hold implies a reverent familiarity with the
Lord, by which we use a holy force to win a blessing from His hand. Laying hold
upon God is not the act of a dead man, neither is it the deed of one who is
destitute of spiritual perception; it is the act of one who is quickened and
kept alive by the indwelling power of the Holy Spirit. Men will do anything
sooner than stir up themselves to take hold of God: they will build churches,
and rear altars, and say masses and perform pilgrimages, and a thousand other
things, but they do not want God, and will not have Him. It is great
condescension on the Lord’s part that He should permit it to be so, but so it
is, and when He bares His right arm to smite you your safety lies in grasping
that very hand which apparently is lifted for your destruction.
I. The first form
of taking hold, that which is intended in the text, is that in which THE
AWAKENED SINNER TAKES HOLD UPON GOD.
II. We very greatly
need to have among us many THOROUGH BELIEVERS WHO TAKE HOLD UPON GOD BY
FIDELITY TO HIM. I have seen applied to Calvin the motto, “He took fast hold.”
If ever a man did take fast hold on invisible things, it was that famous
reformer. What he grasped he held with force of clear conviction, intelligent
apprehension, and devout reverence. Such a man opens his Bible and resolves to
find out what God’s will is, and be judges for himself, for he knows that he
will have to render a personal account. Such a man sets himself to extend the
kingdom of Christ, impelled by inward zeal. Having obtained a solid fulcrum of
assured knowledge, he now begins to use his lever and work upon others. He
knows that he cannot be placed where God is not, and therefore he feels that
his best Friend is always near. He is a man that calleth upon God, not merely
in prayer, but by confessing His name, and owning His cause; and he stirs up
himself to take hold upon God in the doing of all these things.
III. We take a step
further in advance when we mention a third form of this taking hold of God: We
need a development in the form of THE WRESTLING PLEADER. The expression is
borrowed from Jacob at the brook of Jabbok. A man who can take hold of God in
prayer will be of the utmost value to the Church.
IV. The fourth
point is THE TAKING HOLD OF GOD BY THE STRENGTHENED BELIEVER: the man who has
got beyond doubts and fears, and grasped the eternal verities. No question now
as to whether there is a God or no: he knows Him, speaks with Him, walks with
Him, He is quite sure about God’s keeping His promises, he dares not doubt
that, for he has had too many proofs already of the faithfulness of God for him
to distrust Him. Now, see how steadily that man moves about: trial does not bow
him down, he expected it, and he expects to be delivered out of it. If you rush
in upon him with the most terrible information it does not distress him, for
“he is not afraid of evil tidings; his heart is fixed, trusting in the Lord.” (C.
H.Spurgeon.)
Delivered unto iniquity
For “hast consumed,” read “hast delivered us into the hand
of our iniquities.” Their sin has been allowed by God to breed deeper sin. (A.
B. Davidson, D. D.)
Melted into the hands of iniquity
We may suppose with Rosenmuller that the phrase strictly means,
Thou dost melt us into the hand of our iniquities, i.e subject us to them, make
us unable to resist them, and passively submissive to their power. (J. A.
Alexander.)
Verse 8
But now, O Lord, Thou art our Father
God our King-Father
(“Our Lord, Thou art our Father” with “the Lord is our King,” Isaiah 33:22).
That conviction of a living God, as distinguished from the lifeless one, which
is all that many have, made up of a mere bundle of catechetical doctrines, will
create a demand for many other convictions besides. For, mark what question
presses, so soon as God has been revealed to the soul; it is the deeply
self-interested one, In what relation, or relations, does this almighty and
glorious One stand to the individual’s self? The answer given by our two texts,
and much of the Scripture besides, is, that He is related to each of us both as
a Father and a King. Now, not only is there no contrariety betwixt the ideas of
these two relations; but, properly, there is no sentiment in the one which the
other does not contain in some degree. Nevertheless, the idea of a Father
contains more prominently the sentiment of bountiful and tender cherishing;
when that of a King contains more prominently that of regulation and control;
and it is not till we have combined them that we can form an adequate
conception of the relation in which He stands to us. (W. Anderson, LL. D.)
Our King-Father or Father-King the memorial of God
Some may say they are identical; nor would I deny, with much
warmth, they are. But when the better mode of impressing the heart is the
subject of inquiry, not a little depends, I am persuaded, on the order in which
the two ideas of the complex relation are presented.
1. Even metaphysically He is first our Father and then our King: the
idea of the Divine paternity is the principal one, and that of the royalty the
subordinate and qualifying one: He begets us as children before He rules us as
subjects.
2. But, whatever may be the state of the question metaphysically,
there can be no doubt that, in respect of practical and salutary effect on the
heart, the assigning of the place of primary consideration to the relation of
Father has a decided advantage. When men ask you, Who is God? let your reply
be, He is our Father. And when they say, Is He not your King also? let your
reply again be, He is; but first our Father, and more our Father than anything
else. Even a heathen could say, as an apostle has approvingly told us, “We are
also His offspring.” Although, in respect of our corporeal frames, we are in
the predicament of the inferior animals; yet in respect of the nobler part of
our constitutions--the immortal soul--in virtue of which, especially, we bear
the Divine image, that has been communicated to us directly, by the breath of
the Almighty (Ecclesiastes 12:7).
3. The thought is both solemnizing and animating; let us improve it
to the ends of having our sense of responsibility deepened for filial reverence
and obedience--for upholding the honour of God’s family, by the purity, the
elevation, and dignity of our characters--and, also, for our treatment of all mankind
as being of a Divine parentage.
4. But it is especially in respect of confidence in His
loving-kindness, that I call at present for improvement of the meditation. (W.
Anderson, LL. D.)
God the Father-King in redemption
1. Who is so ignorant as not to know that cold parental displeasure
and warm parental affection arc frequently found co-existent; and who cannot
easily conceive the truth of the following case? I knew a father who, after
having long remonstrated in vain with a profligate son--from abhorrence of the
sight and hearing of his abominations and profanities, and from respect to his
own and family’s peace and honour, turned him out of his house, and would not
acknowledge him when he met him on the street. All the time he wept and prayed
for him in secret, and gave directions to a friend to take care that his
wretched boy should never suffer from want. Is the paternity of the human
father more tender and amiable than that of the Divine? Hear how He himself
vindicates His parental character: “How shall I give thee up, Ephraim?” etc. (Hosea 11:8).
2. And yet hitherto I have not, properly, announced one syllable of
the tidings of the Gospel. Nature and reason might have sufficed for conducting
us all the length we have gone. We need other guidance for proceeding further.
I stopped short in my simple story about that young man. What became of him?
Well, he repented; returned to his father’s door, with humble confessions, and
earnest promises of future well-doing; was taken in; and great was the joy that
night throughout that dwelling. Now observe, that though the parallel does not
terminate here, when tracing the analogy of the recovery of an outcast from the
family of’ God, yet both lines receive the accession of new elements. On the
part of God, there is the accession of the element of His royal character: and
on the part of the sinner, the accession of the element of faith in a Mediator.
The explanation is most important: it contains the secret of our salvation.
Mark, therefore, that God does not re-admit the prodigal to His family, as an
earthly father does, merely on account of his repentance; because, beside being
a Father, He is a King. Consider, then, how this additional relationship of
royalty is produced, and how it affects the Divine procedure. An earthly
father’s administration of his family is a matter of privacy. Public interests
are not concerned in it; and he may do with his own what pleases his humour. He
may open his door and re-admit the prodigal, even without any repentance or
confession, if he choose. But God’s family being the Public--the universal
Public of created, moral intelligence; though this does not affect the personal
love of the administrator, yet does it materially affect the mode of the
administration. The family of children has enlarged into a kingdom of subjects;
and though it be a Father’s heart, it must be a King’s policy by which the
administration is conducted. David’s parental heart said, Spare the young man
Absalom; his royal policy commissioned the army to fight him down as a rebel
3. What, then, is the state of our parallel now? It was sufficient
for the re-admission of the prodigal into the earthly father’s house that he
should be penitent. But the order of all good government of a kingdom is, that
the violation of the laws shall be visited with penal suffering, before there
be a restoration to the privileges of citizenship. Behold the mystery of our
redemption! And see the advantage of our having assumed the paternity of God as
His primary and most characteristic relationship. It is this paternity which,
humanly speaking, goes in quest of means for saving us; and returns, exclaiming
in triumph, “Save from going down to the pit, for I have found a ransom.” When
we commence with the royal relationship, and make that the primary
characteristic, there is danger that God may appear as being but coldly passive
in the work of our salvation. But when we commence with the paternity of God,
we more easily discover Him warmly active in the work of our salvation; with
all a Father’s self-interested love devising and executing its scheme. Having
found the means of ransom in the substitutionary death of His Son incarnated,
He brings it to us, that we may carry it away for presentation at the tribunal
of His government.
4. This representation will explain, as clearly as any other, the
nature, the necessity, and the efficacy of faith. As being that principle which
gives credit to the Divine testimony, it lays hold of the sacrifice which God’s
paternal mercy has provided, and pleads with His royal justice that it be
accepted as compensation for our transgressions. Mark the necessity of such
faith. The gift which God has made of Christ to “sinners of mankind” universally
is not the gift of pardon, but of the means of pardon, to be used to that end;
and used by the sinner himself: for it would be unholy government to pardon a
rebel, whatever might be the amplitude of satisfaction proffered on his behalf
by another, if he himself despised or made light of the transaction.
5. Observe, now, a second time, the advantage of giving the paternal
relation of God the first place in our meditation on His character. In virtue
of this, the proclamation of the Gospel is not so much the proclamation of a
King, declaring that no man shall be saved except through faith in that
sacrifice; as it is the earnest entreaty of a Father that His children should
believe, so as to be saved; when His paternal love shall enjoy them in their recovery
to His home; yea, enjoy them. It is much for a child to enjoy his parent; but
it is more for a parent to enjoy his child, as an object on which he may lavish
his affection; and with all the yearnings of His paternity does God beseech the
sinner to afford Him this Divine satisfaction.
6. Having explained the doctrine of God’s paternal love, I now call
for its correlative duty, filial confidence on the part of His children.
7. When this first principle of ]parental honour, confidence in God,
is secured, the honouring of Him, which consists in obedience, follows
naturally and necessarily. (W. Anderson, LL. D.)
We are the clay and Thou
our Potter
Clay and Potter
The nearest parallel to this application of the common image of
clay and potter is, perhaps, Job 10:9. It is the plea of thecreature
against seeming unreasonableness on the part of the Creator. Can the Potter
allow the work on which He has lavished His utmost skill and care to be broken
in pieces? (Prof. J. Skinner, D. D.)
Lessons from a pottery
Many years ago it was my privilege to visit the porcelain works at
Worcester, and there I learned most of what I know about the potter and his
art. We were first taken into a large showroom, where there were displayed the
finished products of the potter’s skill and labour. Here we were glad to spend
some time in looking upon the beauty and loveliness which the potter had
created. In thinking upon what was exhibited there, what can be learned about
the potter and his art with a view to understanding the work and grace of our
heavenly Father as our Potter? There were two things that deeply impressed me.
The first was the almost unlimited variety secured by the potter in his
workmanship. There were not two pieces exactly alike. Everywhere you perceived
the mind of the potter on the stretch, seeking to attain all possible variety
of form, design and ornamentation. I said to myself. “Well, there is one thing
very clear about the earthly potter--he has determined that in his work there
shall be an utmost absence of repetition, monotony, similarity. By infinite
variety he reveals his skill and the fruitfulness of his mind.” If God is our
Potter, are we to think of Him in this respect as like unto the earthly potter?
Go to His work in Nature. How much of monotony is there in any department of
God’s creation? What does that mean for us? It means a very great deal for
Christian life. As a young Christian, I had a way of greatly admiring other
people. If I saw any person of decided and beautiful Christian character, my
heart was impressed. But the mistake was that I also wanted to be like them!
And if I saw any one doing a particular work for God I wanted to do something
similar. This longing to be like other people became a great curse and
hindrance. Then God had pity upon me, and showed me the mistake of it all, and
said to me: “I do not want to make you like anybody else in the universe; I
want to make you something different from everybody else;” and He graciously
persuaded me to give myself up to Him, to let Him make me the one thing He
wished to see me. No greater deliverance ever came into my life than that. Do
not try to be like anybody. Do not be one of a set. It would be a thousand
pities to go to heaven, and for the angels to say: “We have seen this sort
before!” It will not be Christ’s fault if that should happen in your case.
There is something that God wants to make each one of us that shaft reveal His
glory in a way that nobody else does. The second thing to be noted about the
work of the potter is this: His whole aim is to make of the clay, not a vessel
for its own use, but a vessel for the joy and service of others. Let us realize
that Christ is in our lives to turn them outward! When we had spent some time
in the showroom, our guide bade us follow him. He at once led us through a door
out into the works. What a change! We were now amid the noise and splash and
dirt. First of all he directed our attention to a shelf, on which were some half-dozen
lumps of what might be described as glass and chalk and clay. As a matter of
fact, they were different kinds of clay. “All you have just seen inside there
has been made out of such materials.” Who had bridged the gulf between the
shapeless clay and the beautiful vessel? The potter--that is what he is for.
“We are the clay”--the thing of possibility only. The Lord is the Potter; and
He can take the clay, and by His skill and power and grace, make it into a
thing of joy and beauty for evermore. But our guide soon led us on, and we saw
something of the processes of the potter’s art. One of the first things he did
with the clay was to put it into a mill, where it was ground for a week, ground
until it was so fine that it would pass through silk with hundreds of meshes to
the square inch. If the clay could have thought, how puzzled it would have
been! It would have said: “There was something of me once, but I am coming to
nothing now. I caught a glimpse through that open door of all those lovely
vessels and vases, and I thought the potter was going to make me into one such
as they; but here it is only grind! grind! grind! What does it all mean?”
Experiences very much like that come to the soul that has surrendered itself to
God. The methods and processes of the heavenly Potter are at times very
perplexing, and in no discerned relation to the desired end. Be quite sure that
God understands His own work! Trust Him. The next thing that struck me was the
large use which the potter made of fire. I cannot tell you how many times the
porcelain was put into the fire before it was finished. But there was this
remarkable thing: it was never put into the fire unshielded. It was always
enclosed in a strong outer vessel, closely sealed, so that the fire did its
work, and yet no hurt came to the porcelain. Into the fire of trial and
suffering God, our Potter, puts us all; but He never puts us in unshielded.
When this white porcelain had been taken through a great many processes, it was
put into the hands of skilful artists, whose work it was to adorn it with the
glory of colour and design with which we are all familiar. When the porcelain
left the hands of the artist, the finger of a child could have brushed away all
that he had painted upon it. But our guide explained that the porcelain would
go into the fire, and that the fire would open its “pores, and take in the
colouring, so that what the painter had put on it would become part of the very
vessel itself. That illustrated to me this great truth, that we never become better
people by merely knowing more. New truth in the mind is like the colouring upon
the porcelain, and some failure of memory may remove it. But God’s way is, when
we have got a new truth, to lead us into some trial, some fire, that will make
that truth part of our very manhood. Lastly, we were taken into another room,
and there the artists were all busy working with a black fluid, which they were
putting on the beautiful, pure, white porcelain. I said to our guide, “What are
they doing here? Apparently they were disfiguring the porcelain. His answer
was: “They are putting on the gilt! When the porcelain goes into the fire, this
black that you see upon it now will be transformed into Gilt.” There are times
when God seems to be disfiguring the lives of his people. What is He doing?
Putting on the gilt. (G. C. Moore.)
Verse 9
Be not wroth very sore, O Lord
God’s wrath deprecated
I.
THE
EVIL DEPRECATED. God’s anger.
1. Merited.
2. Acknowledged.
II. THE TERMS IN
WHICH IT IS DEPRECATED.
1. Imply the justice of God’s procedure.
2. Beseech a limitation of its severity.
III. THE PLEA BY
WHICH IT IS DEPRECATED.
1. Humble.
2. Confident.
3. Founded on God’s covenant relation to His people. (Homiletic
Commentary.)
Verse 11
Our holy and our beautiful house, where our fathers praised Thee,
is burned up with fire
The burnt temple
I.
HERE
IS PATHETIC LAMENTATION.
1. The children of Israel regarded the temple as their own house.
They spoke of it as God’s house. But because it was God’s it was their own, for
they were God’s; and all that particularly belonged to Him had a special
interest for them, and they had a special claim in it.
2. This temple was sacred in the people’s eyes. The prophet calls it,
“our holy house.” It was really so.
3. The Jews, exiled abroad, thought of yonder ruined house where
their fathers praised the Lord. There is no attachment stronger than that which
exists between men and women, sons and daughters of Christian fathers and
mothers, who are worshipping in the place where their predecessors worshipped.
4. All their pleasant things were laid waste.
II. HERE IS
AFFECTIONATE EXPOSTULATION. “Wilt Thou refrain Thyself?” etc. The plain English
of it is, “Canst Thou bear to see this, Lord? Does it not affect Thee as it
does us? Hast Thou no sighs, no groans, no tears? And if Thou hast, wilt Thou
not pluck Thy hand from out Thy bosom and help us? Wilt Thou not open Thy lips
and speak a word of peace? We cannot bear Thy silence, Lord. Wilt Thou hold Thy
peace, and afflict us very sore? (T. Spurgeon.)
All our pleasant things
are laid waste
Religious thing, pleasant things
The ordinances of religion are, to the Israel of God, “pleasant
things.”
I. WHAT ARE THEY?
1. In the number of their pleasant things, they include the
sanctuary. To them the temple is not a ]prison, a place of confinement and
correct!on; but the house of their heavenly Father, their “holy and beautiful
house; beautiful because holy.
2. In the number of their “pleasant things they include Sabbaths. To
many, indeed, God’s holy day is uninviting, and even irksome. But the Christian
“calls the Sabbath a delight, and considers the holy of the Lord honourable.”
To him it is a time of refreshing from the presence of the Lord; a weekly
jubilee: and, wearied with the toils, and follies, and vexations of the world,
he hails a day of seclusion from it.
3. Are not the Scriptures some of their “pleasant things”?
4. This too will apply to the preaching of the Word.
5. They find it a pleasant thing to approach God in prayer, and to
“come before His presence with singing”--a pleasant thing to surround His
table, and to refresh their minds with the memorials of a Saviour’s dying
love--to be in the circle of pious friends, and hear from their lips “what God
has done for their souls.
II. HOW THEY BECOME
SO POWERFULLY ATTRACTIVE. For it is certain they are not so universally: by numbers
they are not only neglected, but despised. Whence, then, do real Christians
find them so pleasing?
1. There is in them a suitableness to their dispositions. Thus we
know music charms those who have an ear for it. Money is a pleasant thing to
the covetous; honour to the ambitious; scandal to the slanderous. In all these
instances there is something that meets the taste; and that which gratifies
always delights. So it is here. The pleasure of the Christian does not depend
upon persuasion--but inclination.
2. experience is another source of this pleasure.
3. Continual need also renders them pleasant things.
III. REVIEW WHAT WE
HAVE SAID--and learn--
1. To justify religion from the reproaches of the world. The world
pretends that the services which religion demands of us are all slavery and
gloom. But if you are willing to enter in, “let no man’s heart fail him.”
2. Let us try ourselves by this rule. A man may want assurance and
still be in a state of safety: but if he be habitually a stranger to pleasure
in Divine things, and can pass through all the services of religion as a mere
formalist, it is an awful proof that “he has no part nor lot in the matter; his
heart is not right in the sight of God.” A number of speculative opinions, cold
ceremonies, cheap moralities, in which the affections have no share, can never
be a substitute for real devotion.
3. What an affliction do Christians sustain when they are deprived of
their” pleasant things”! This may be done in two ways.
4. Let us be very thankful that these “pleasant things” are within
our reach--that we have been so long favoured with them--that we have them in
so rich an abundance--that we have liberty to partake of them--and strength to
go forth and enjoy them.
5. Let us raise our thoughts and desires after the “pleasant things
of heaven.” Philip. Henry often, said, when he had finished the delightful
exercises of the Sabbath, Well, if this be not the way to heaven, I know not
what is.” These are introductory to the glory that shall be revealed: they are
foretastes to endear it, and earnests to insure it. (W. Jay.)
Verse 12
Wilt Thou refrain Thyself for these things, O Lord?
--
Self-restraint and silence, as applied to God
Self-restraint and silence, as applied to God are common figures
for inaction and apparent indifference to the interests, and especially the
sufferings, of His people. (J. A. Alexander.)
Jehovah’s mercy
Jehovah’s mercy cannot violently restrain itself longer; it must
burst forth, like Joseph’s tears in the recognition scene (Genesis 45:1). (F. Delitzsch, D. D.)
──《The Biblical Illustrator》