'Hezekiah trusted in the Lord God of Israel.... 6. He clave to the
Lord, and departed not from following Him, but kept His
commandments.'--2 KINGS xviii. 5,6.
Devout people in all ages and stations are very much like each other.
The elements of godliness are always the same. This king of Israel,
something like two thousand six hundred years ago, and the humblest
Christian to-day have the family likeness on their faces. These words,
which are an outline sketch of the king's character, are really a
sketch of the religious life at all times and in all places. He
realised it; why may not we? He achieved it amid much ignorance; why
should not we amid our blaze of knowledge? He accomplished it amid the
temptations of a monarchy; why should not we in our humbler spheres?
There are four things set forth here as constituting a religious life.
We begin at the bottom with the foundation of everything. 'He trusted
in the Lord God of Israel.' The Old Testament is just as emphatic in
declaring that there is no religion without trust, and that trust is
the very nerve and life-blood of religion, as is the New. Only that in
the one half of the book our translators have chosen to use the word
'trust,' and in the other half of the book they have chosen to use,
for the very same act, the word 'faith.' They have thus somewhat
obscured the absolute identity which exists in the teaching of the Old
and of the New Testament as regards the bond which unites men to God.
That union always was, and always will be, begun in the simple
attitude and exercise of trust, and everything else will come out of
that, and without that nothing else will come.
So this king had a certain measure of knowledge about the character of
God, and that measure of knowledge led him to lean all his weight upon
the Lord. You and I know a great deal more about God and His ways and
purposes than Hezekiah did, but we can make no better use of it than
he did--translate our knowledge into faith, and rely with simple,
absolute confidence on Him whose name we know in Christ more fully and
blessedly than was possible to Hezekiah.
And need I remind you of how, in this life of which the outline is
here given and the inmost secret is here disclosed, there were
significant and magnificent instances of the power of humble trust to
bring to an else helpless man all the blessings that he needs, and to
put a crystal wall round about him that will preserve him from every
evil, howsoever threatening it may seem?
'It has come addressed to me, but it is meant for Thee. Vindicate
Thine own cause by delivering Thine own servant.' And so, 'when the
morning dawned, they were all dead men,' and faith rejoiced in a
perfect deliverance. And you and I may get the same answer, in the
midst of all our trials, difficulties, toils, and conflicts, if only
we will go the same way to get it, and let our faith work, as
Hezekiah's worked, and take everything that troubles us to our Father
in the heavens, and be quite sure that He is the God 'who daily bears
our burdens.' Let us begin with the simple act of confidence in Him.
That is the foundation, and on that we may build everything besides.
Let us see what this man further built upon it. The second story, if I
may so say, of the temple-fortress of his life, upon the foundation of
faith, was, 'He clave to the Lord.'
That is to say, the act of confidence must be followed and perfected
by tenacious adherence with all the tendrils of a man's nature to the
God in whom he says that he trusts. The metaphor is a very forcible
one, so familiar in Scripture as that we are apt to overlook its
emphasis. Let me recall one or two of the instances in which it is
employed about other matters which throw light on its force here.
First of all, remember that sweet picture of the widow woman from Moab
and the two daughters-in-law, one sent back, not reluctantly, to her
home; and the other persisting in keeping by Naomi's side, in spite of
difficulties and remonstrances. With kisses of real love Orpah went
back, but she did go back, to her people and her gods, but 'Ruth clave
unto her.' So should we cling to God, as Ruth flung her arms round
Naomi, and twined her else lonely and desolate heart about her dear
and only friend, for whose sweet sake she became a willing exile from
kindred and country. Is that how we cleave to the Lord?
More sacred still are the lessons that are suggested by the fact that
this is the word employed to describe the blessed and holy union of
man and woman in pure wedded life, and I suppose some allusion to that
use of the expression underlies its constant application to the
relation of the believing soul to Jehovah. For by trust the soul is
wedded to Him, and so 'joined to the Lord' as to be 'one spirit.'
Or if we do not care to go so deep as that, let us take the metaphor
that lies in the word itself, without reference to its Scriptural
applications. As the limpet holds on to its rock, as the ivy clings to
the wall, as a shipwrecked sailor grasps the spar which keeps his head
above water, so a Christian man ought to hold on to God, with all his
energy, and with all parts of his nature. The metaphor implies
tenacity; closeness of adhesion, in heart and will, in thought, in
desire, and in all the parts of our receptive humanity, all of which
can touch God and be touched by Him, and all of which are blessed only
in the measure in which, yielding to Him, they are filled and steadied
and glorified.
And there is implied, too, not only tenacity of adherence, but
tenacity in the face of obstacles. There must be resistance to all the
forces which would detach, if there is to be union with God in the
midst of life in the world. Or, to recur for a moment to the figure
that I employed a moment ago, as the sailor clings to a spar, though
the waves dash round him, and his fingers get stiffened with cold and
cramped with keeping the one position, and can scarcely hold on, but
he knows that it is life to cling and death to loosen, and so tightens
his grasp; thus have we to lay hold of God, and in spite of all
obstacles, to keep hold of Him. Our grasp tends to slacken, and is
feeble at the best, even if there were nothing outside of us to make
it difficult for us to get a good grip. But there are howling winds
and battering waves blowing and beating on us, and making it hard to
keep our hold.
Do not let us yield to these, but in spite of them all let our hearts
tighten round Him, for it is only in His sweet, eternal, perfect love
that they can be at rest. And let our thoughts keep close to Him in
spite of all distractions, for it is only in the measure in which His
light fills our minds and His truth occupies our thoughts that our
thinking spirits will be at rest. And let our desires, as the
tentacles of some shell-fish fasten upon the rock, and feel out
towards the ocean that is coming to it, let our desires go all out
towards Him until they touch that after which they feel, and curl
round it in repose and in blessedness.
The whole secret of a joyful, strong, noble Christian life lies
here--that on the foundation of faith we should rear tenacious
adherence to Him in spite of all obstacles. So it was a most
encyclopaedic, though laconic, exhortation that that 'good man' sent
down from Jerusalem to encourage the first heathen converts gave, when
instead of all other instruction or advice, or inculcation of less
important, and yet real, Christian duties, Barnabas exhorted them all
'that with purpose of heart'--the full devotion of their inmost
natures--'they should cleave to the Lord.'
Then the third stage, or the third story, in this building is that,
cleaving to the Lord, 'he departed not from following Him.' The
metaphor of cleaving implies proximity and union; the metaphor of
following implies distance which is being diminished. These two are
incongruous, and the very incongruity helps to give point to the
representation. The same two ideas of union and yet of pursuit are
brought still more closely together in other parts of Scripture. For
instance, there is a remarkable saying in one of the Psalms,
translated in our Bible--'My soul followeth hard after Thee. Thy right
hand upholdeth me,' where the expression 'followeth hard after' is a
lame attempt at translating the perhaps impossible-to-be-translated
fullness of the original, which reads 'My soul cleaveth after Thee.'
It is an incongruous combination of ideas, by its very incongruity and
paradoxical form suggesting a profound truth--viz. that in all the
conscious union and tenacious adherence to God which makes the
Christian life, there is ever, also, a sense of distance which kindles
aspiration and leads to the effort after continual progress. However
close we may be to God, it is always possible to press closer. However
full may be the union, it may always be made fuller; and the cleaving
spirit will always be longing for a closer contact and a more blessed
sense of being in touch with God.
So, as we climb, new heights reveal themselves, and the further we
advance in the Christian life the more are we conscious of the
infinite depths that yet remain to be traversed. Hence arises one
great element of the blessedness of being a Christian--namely, that we
need not fear ever coming to the end of the growth in holiness and the
increase of joy and power that are possible to us. So that weariness,
and the sense of having reached the limits that are possible on a
given path, which sooner or later fall upon men that live for anything
but God, can never be ours if we live for Him. But the oldest and most
experienced will have the same forward-looking glances of hope and
forward-directed steps of strenuous effort as the youngest beginner on
the path; and a Paul will be able to say when he is 'Paul the aged,'
and 'the time of his departure is at hand,' that he 'forgets the
things that are behind, and reaches forth unto the things that are
before, while he presses towards the mark.' Let us be thankful for the
endless progress which is possible to the Christian, and let us see to
it that we are never paralysed into supposing that 'to-morrow must be
_as_ this day,' but trust the infinite resources of our God, and
be sure that we growingly make our own the growing gifts which He
bestows.
And so, lastly, the fourth element in this analysis of a devout life
is 'He kept the commandments of the Lord.' That is the outcome of them
all. Faith, adhesion, aspiration, and progress, all vindicate their
value and reality in the simple, homely way of practical obedience.
Let us learn two things. One as to the worthlessness of all these
others, if they do not issue in this. Not that these inward emotions
are ever to be despised, but that, if they are genuine in our hearts,
they cannot but manifest themselves in our lives. And so, dear
Christian friends! do you not build upon your faith, on your adherence
to God, on your aspirations after Him, unless you can bring into
court, as witnesses for these, daily and hourly, your efforts after
the conformity of your will to His, in the great things and in the
small. Then, and only then, may we be sure that our confidence is not
a delusion, and that it is to Him that we cleave when our feet tread
in the paths of goodness.
And on the other hand, let us learn that all attempts to be obedient
to a divine will which do not begin with trust and cleaving to Him are
vain. There is no other way to get that conformity of will except by
that union of spirit. All other attempts are beginning at the wrong
end. You do not begin building your houses with the chimney-pots, but
many a man who seeks to obey without trusting does precisely commit
that fault. Let us be sure that the foundations are in, and then let
us be sure that we do not stop half-way up, lest all that pass by
should mock and say, 'This man began to build and was not able to
finish.'
How many professing Christians' lives are half-finished and unroofed
houses, because they have not 'added to their faith'--that is, to
their 'cleaving to the Lord'--endless aspiration and continual
progress, and to their aspiration and their progress the peaceable
fruit of practical righteousness! If these things be in us and abound,
they mark us as devout men after God's pattern. And if we want to be
devout men after God's pattern, we must follow God's sequence, which
begins with trust and ends with obedience.
'HE UTTERED HIS VOICE, THE EARTH MELTED'
'Then Isaiah the son of Amos sent to Hezekiah, saying, Thus saith the
Lord God of Israel, That which thou hast prayed to Me against
Sennacherib king of Assyria I have heard. 21. This is the word that
the Lord hath spoken concerning him; The virgin, the daughter of Zion,
hath despised thee, and laughed thee to scorn; the daughter of
Jerusalem hath shaken her head at thee. 22. Whom hast thou reproached
and blasphemed? and against whom hast thou exalted thy voice, and
lifted up thine eyes on high? even against the Holy One of Israel....
28. Because thy rage against Me and thy tumult is come up into Mine
ears, therefore I will put My hook in thy nose, and My bridle in thy
lips, and I will turn thee back by the way by which thou camest. 29.
And this shall be a sign unto thee, Ye shall eat this year such things
as grow of themselves, and in the second year that which springeth of
the same; and in the third year sow ye, and reap, and plant vineyards,
and eat the fruits thereof. 30. And the remnant that is escaped of the
house of Judah shall yet again take root downward, and bear fruit
upward. 31. For out of Jerusalem shall go forth a remnant, and they
that escape out of mount Zion: the zeal of the Lord of hosts shall do
this. 32. Therefore thus saith the Lord concerning the king of
Assyria, He shall not come into this city, nor shoot an arrow there,
nor come before it with shield, nor cast a bank against it. 33. By the
way that he came, by the same shall he return, and shall not come into
this city, saith the Lord. 34. For I will defend this city, to save
it, for Mine own sake, and for My servant David's sake. 35. And it
came to pass that night, that the angel of the Lord went out, and
smote in the camp of the Assyrians an hundred fourscore and five
thousand: and when they arose early in the morning, behold, they were
all dead corpses. 36. So Sennacherib king of Assyria departed, and
went and returned, and dwelt at Nineveh. 37. And it came to pass, as
he was worshipping in the house of Nisroch his god, that Adrammelech
and Sharezer his sons smote him with the sword; and they escaped into
the land of Armenia: and Esarhaddon his son reigned in his stead.'--2
KINGS xix. 20-22; 28-37.
At an earlier stage of the Assyrian invasion Hezekiah had sent to
Isaiah, asking him to pray to his God for deliverance, and had
received an explicit assurance that the invasion would be foiled. When
the second stage was reached, and Hezekiah was personally summoned to
surrender, by a letter which scoffed at Isaiah's promise, he himself
prayed before the Lord. Isaiah does not seem to have been present, and
may not have known of the prayer. At all events, the answer was given
to him to give to the king; and it is noteworthy that, as in the
former case, he does not himself come, but sends to Hezekiah. He did
come when he had to bring a message of death, and again when he had to
rebuke (chap. xx.), but now he only sends. As the chosen speaker of
Jehovah's will, he was mightier than kings, and must not imperil the
dignity of the message by the behaviour of the messenger. In a
sentence, Hezekiah's prayer is answered, and then the prophet, in
Jehovah's name, bursts into a wonderful song of triumph over the
defeated invader. 'I have heard.' That is enough. Hezekiah's prayer
has, as it were, fired the fuse or pulled the trigger, and the
explosion follows, and the shot is sped. 'Whereas thou hast prayed,
... I have heard,' is ever true, and God's hearing is God's acting in
answer. The methods of His response vary, the fact that He responds to
the cry of despair driven to faith by extremity of need does not vary.
But it is noteworthy that, with that brief, sufficient assurance,
Hezekiah, as it were, is put aside, and instead of three fighters in
the field, the king, with God to back him, and on the other side
Sennacherib, two only, appear. It is a duel between Jehovah and the
arrogant heathen who had despised Him. Jerusalem appears for a moment,
in a magnificent piece of poetical scorn, as despising and making
gestures of contempt at the baffled would-be conqueror, as Miriam and
her maidens did by the Red Sea. The city is 'virgin,' as many a
fortress in other lands has been named, because uncaptured. But she,
too, passes out of sight, and Jehovah and Sennacherib stand opposed on
the field. God speaks now not 'concerning,' but to, him, and indicts
him for insane pride, which was really a denial of dependence on God,
and passionate antagonism to Him, as manifested not only in his war
against Jehovah's people, but also in the tone of his insolent
defiances of Hezekiah, in which he scoffed at the vain trust which the
latter was placing in his God, and paralleled Jehovah with the gods of
the nations whom he had already conquered (Isaiah xix. 12).
The designation of God, characteristic of Isaiah, as 'the Holy One of
Israel,' expresses at once His elevation above, and separation from,
all mundane, creatural limitations, and His special relation to His
people, and both thoughts intensify Sennacherib's sin. The Highest,
before whose transcendent height all human elevations sink to a
uniform level, has so joined Israel to Himself that to touch it is to
strike at Him, and to vaunt one's self against it is to be arrogant
towards God. That mighty name has received wider extension now, but
the wider sweep does not bring diminished depth, and lowly souls who
take that name for their strong tower can still run into it and be
safe from 'the oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,' and the
strongest foes.
There is tremendous scorn in the threat with which the divine address to
Sennacherib ends. The dreaded world-conqueror is no more in God's eyes
than a wild beast, which He can ring and lead as He will, and not even
as formidable as that, but like a horse or a mule, that can easily be
bridled and directed. What majestic assertion lies in these figures and
in '_My_ hook' and '_My_ bridle!' How many conquerors and mighty men
since then have been so mastered, and their schemes balked! Sennacherib
had to return by 'the way that he came,' and to tramp back, foiled and
disappointed, over all the weary miles which he had trodden before with
such insolent confidence of victory. A modern parallel is Napoleon's
retreat from Moscow. But the same experience really befalls all who
order life regardless of God. Their schemes may seem to succeed, but in
deepest truth they fail, and the schemers never reach their goal.
In verse 29 the prophet turns away abruptly and almost contemptuously
from Sennacherib to speak comfortably to Jerusalem, addressing
Hezekiah first, but turning immediately to the people. The substance
of his words to them is, first, the assurance that the Assyrian
invasion had limits of time set to it by God; and, second, that beyond
it lay prosperous times, when the prophetic visions of a flourishing
Israel should be realised in fact. For two seed-times only field work
was to be impossible on account of the Assyrian occupation, but it was
to foam itself away, like a winter torrent, before a third season for
sowing came round.
But how could this sequence of events, which required time for its
unfolding, be 'a sign'? We must somewhat modify our notions of a sign
to understand the prophet. The Scripture usage does not only designate
by that name a present event or thing which guarantees the truth of a
prophecy, but it sometimes means an event, or sequence of events, in
the future, which, when they have come to pass in accordance with the
divine prediction of them, will shed back light on other divine words
or acts, and demonstrate that they were of God. Thus Moses was given
as a sign of his mission the worshipping in Mount Sinai, which was to
take place only after the Exodus. So with Isaiah's sign here. When the
harvest of the third year was gathered in, then Israel would know that
the prophet had spoken from God when he had sung Sennacherib's defeat.
For the present, Hezekiah and Judah had to live by faith; but when the
deliverance was complete, and they were enjoying the fruits of their
labours and of God's salvation, then they could look back on the weary
years, and recognise more clearly than while these were slowly passing
how God had been in all the trouble, and had been carrying on His
purposes of mercy through it all. And there will be a 'sign' for us in
like manner when we look back from eternity on the transitory
conflicts of earthly life, and are satisfied with the harvest which He
has caused to spring from our poor sowings to the Spirit.
The definite promise of deliverance in verses 32-34 is addressed to
Judah, and emphasises the completeness of the frustration of the
invader's efforts. There is a climax in the enumeration of the things
that he will not be allowed to do--he will not make his entry into the
city, nor even shoot an arrow there, nor even make preparation for a
siege. His whole design will be overturned, and as had already been
said (ver. 28), he will retrace his steps a baffled man.
Note the strong antithesis: 'He shall not come into this city, ... for
I will defend this city.' Zion is impregnable because Jehovah defends
it. Sennacherib can do nothing, for he is fighting against God. And if
we 'are come unto the city of the living God,' we can take the same
promise for the strength of our lives. God saves Zion 'for His own
sake,' for His name is concerned in its security, both because He has
taken it for His own and because He has pledged His word to guard it.
It would be a blot on His faithfulness, a slur on His power, if it
should be conquered while it remains true to Him, its King. His honour
is involved in protecting us if we enter into the strong city of which
the builder and maker is God. And 'for David's sake,' too, He defends
Zion, because He had sworn to David to dwell there. But Zion's
security becomes an illusion if Zion breaks away from God. If it
becomes as Sodom, it shares Sodom's fate.
It is remarkable that neither in the song of triumph nor in the
prophecy of deliverance is there allusion to the destruction of the
Assyrian army. How the exultant taunts of the one and the definite
promises of the other were to be fulfilled was not declared till the
event declared it. But faithful expectation had not long to wait, for
'that night' the blow fell, and no second was needed. We are not told
where the Assyrian army was, but clearly it was not before Jerusalem.
Nor do we learn what was the instrument of destruction wielded by the
'angel of the Lord,' if there was any. The catastrophe may have been
brought about by a pestilence, but however effected, it was 'the act
of God,' the fulfilment of His promise, the making bare of His arm.
'By terrible things in righteousness' did He answer the prayer of
Hezekiah, and give to all humble souls who are oppressed and cry to
Him a pledge that 'as they have heard, so' will they 'see, in the city
of' their 'God.' How much more impressive is the stern, naked brevity
of the Scriptural account than a more emotional expansion of it, like,
for instance, Byron's well-known, and in their way powerful lines,
would have been! To the writer of this book it seemed the most natural
thing in the world that the foes of Zion should be annihilated by one
blow of the divine hand. His business is to tell the facts; he leaves
commentary and wonder and triumph or terror to others.
There is but one touch of patriotic exultation apparent in the
half-sarcastic and half-rejoicing accumulation of synonyms descriptive
of Sennacherib's retreat. He 'departed, and went and returned.' It is
like the picture in Psalm xlviii., which probably refers to the same
events: 'They saw it, and so they marvelled; they were troubled, and
hasted away.'
About twenty years elapsed between Sennacherib's retreat and his
assassination. During all that time he 'dwelt at Nineveh,' so far as
Judah was concerned. He had had enough of attacking it and its God.
But the notice of his death is introduced here, not only to complete
the narrative, but to point a lesson, which is suggested by the fact
that he was murdered 'as he was worshipping in the house of Nisroch
his god.' Hezekiah had gone into the house of _his_ God with
Sennacherib's letter, and the dead corpses of an army showed what
Jehovah could do for His servant; Sennacherib was praying in the
temple of _his_ god, and his corpse lay stretched before his
idol, an object lesson of the impotence of Nisroch and all his like to
hear or help their worshippers.