The great example of God is put forward in the text as the contrast to
all this selfish negligence. Note the twofold description of Him given
here, 'He that pondereth the heart,' and 'He that keepeth thy soul.'
The former of these presents to us God's sedulous watching of the
hearts of men, in contrast to our indolent and superficial looks; and
in this divine attitude we find the awful condemnation of our
disregard of our fellows. God 'takes pain,' so to speak, to see after
His children. Are they not bound to look lovingly on each other? God
seeks to know them. Are they not bound to know one another? Lofty
disregard of human suffering is not _God's_ way. Is it ours? He
'looks down from the height of His sanctuary to hear the crying of the
prisoner.' Should not we stoop from our mole-hill to see it? God has
not too many concerns on His hands to mark the obscurest sorrow and be
ready to help it. And shall we plead that we are too busy with petty
personal concerns to take interest in helping the sorrows and fighting
against the sins of the world?
No less eloquently does the other name which is here applied to God
rebuke our negligence. 'He preserveth thy soul.' By His divine care
and communication of life, we live; and surely the soul thus preserved
is thereby bound to be a minister of preservation to all that are
'ready to be slain.' The strongest motive for seeking to save others
is that God has saved us. Thus this name for God touches closely upon
the great Christian thought, 'Christ has given Himself for me.' And in
that thought we find the true condemnation of a Christianity which has
not caught from Him the enthusiasm for self-surrender, and the passion
for saving the outcast and forlorn. If to be a Christian is to imitate
Christ, then the name has little application to those who see 'them
that are drawn to death,' and turn from them unconcerned and
unconscious of responsibility.