CRITICAL NOTES.--+1. Grievous,+ "bitter," "trying," +stir up;+
lit., "make to ascend," like a flame fanned by bellows (Fausset).
+2. Useth knowledge aright,+ rather, "makes knowledge attractive,"
_i.e.,_ speaks so as to win the attention of the listeners; +poureth
out,+ or "bubbleth up." +3. Beholding,+ rather, "watching,"
"observing" (so Stuart, Miller, and Delitzsch). +4. Wholesome,+
"gentle," "soft," +perverseness+ or "transgression," +a breach,+ "a
crushing," "a wounding." +6.+ Miller translates the first clause,
"The house of the righteous is great treasure" (see his Comment);
+revenue,+ rather "gain." +7. Disperse;+ some translators read
"winnow," or "sift." Stuart translates the last clause of this verse
"The heart of the fool is not stable;" Delitzsch reads, "Direction is
wanting to the heart of fools," _i.e.,_ it has not the _right_
direction. +10. Correction is grievous,+ or "there is grievous
correction." Miller reads, "Discipline is an evil to him." +11. Hell
and destruction,+ "Sheōl," and "Abaddōn," two different names for the
world of the departed. "Sheōl" is the unseen world in general,
"Abaddōn" the place of _destruction, i.e.,_ the place where their
bodies are destroyed (so Stuart, Zöckler, etc.). +How much more.+
Miller translates these particles by "because also" (see his
Comment). +14. Mouth,+ or, "the countenance." +15. Afflicted,+ or
"toiling." +17. Dinner of herbs,+ literally, "a traveller's meal."
+18. Stirreth up,+ lit. "mixes," implying the reciprocal idea of
giving and taking offence (Fausset). +19. Made plain,+ "is paved," or
"is a highway." +21. Walketh uprightly,+ rather "goes
straightforward." +24. The way of life is above,+ etc., rather "An
upward path of life," etc. +Hell,+ Sheōl, as in verse 11.
+25. Establish the border,+ or "Keep fixed the landmark." +26. The
words of the pure are pleasant,+ or "pure in His sight are pleasant
words." +27. Gifts,+ _i.e.,_ "bribes." +28. Studieth,+ _i.e.,
"considers."_ +33. Instruction of wisdom,+ rather "a discipline of
wisdom," or "a training to wisdom."
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSES_ 1 _and_ 2.
THE USE OF KNOWLEDGE.
+I. Knowledge is for use.+ The various gifts and acquirements of men
in every grade of social life, of whatever kind they are, are
intended by God to be used for the benefit of all. One man has what
another lacks, that he may use what he possesses for their mutual
good. Those who have wealth are bound to use it--they are not
expected to keep it locked up in their coffers, but to lay it out for
their own and their poorer neighbours' good. So with knowledge. He
who has a knowledge which can profit the body, the mind, or the heart
of another sins if he holds it back. He will find that such a
possession unused will be a witness against him in the day of
reckoning. He will be accused of wasting his Master's goods by not
using them (Matt. xxv. 27).
+II. Wisdom is needed to put knowledge to a right use.+ There are
many people who know a great deal, but they do not know how to use
it, either for themselves or others. They cannot make it of any
practical use--they cannot enlighten and help others with it. Or they
may put it to a wrong use. This is often the case with those who
possess intellectual knowledge, but who lack moral wisdom. They put a
good thing to a bad use.
+III. One mark of knowledge combined with wisdom is the right use of
the tongue in the presence of anger.+ A "soft answer" in the presence
of anger indicates a knowledge of human nature, and also wisdom and
self-possession to apply the knowledge. A man who can hold the helm
of the vessel in the presence of a storm, and keep her well in hand,
shows that he not only possesses knowledge but wisdom, and he to a
great extent disarms the fury of the tempest by his calm discretion.
+IV. A soft answer may turn away merited wrath.+ There are occasions
when the most holy beings--the Most Holy One Himself--display a wrath
which is only a proof of their perfect holiness. The "soft answer,"
the pleading words of an intercessor, may turn away this wrath. The
wrath of Jehovah was often kindled against Israel during their
wilderness journey, but the "answer" of Moses "turned it away." (See
Exod. xxxii. 11-14; Numb. xiv. 11-20, etc.)
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Verse 1--
Calmness is great advantage: he that lets
Another chafe may warm him at his fire,
Mark all his wanderings and enjoy his frets,
As cunning fencers suffer heat to tire.--_Herbert._
_"A trying word;"_ literally a word of labour or pain. In dealing
with sinners we ought to make the Gospel plain at first and not start
unnecessary difficulties. Paul did this (1 Cor. iii. 2). Words that
are not wrathful are often _"trying,"_ as presenting to an angry
inferior our reply in an easily misunderstood shape. We are to feed
men with milk, and not with strong meat, all the more for being in a
condition of fault.--_Miller._
Look at the effect of the quiet and dignified reply of Gideon to the
exasperated men of Ephraim, and at the case of Abigail and David. And
as an exemplification of the opposite style of answer, you may be
reminded of the contention between the men of Israel and Judah at the
time of David's restoration after the death of Absalom, where the
_fierce words_ of the latter drove off the former under the
rebellious standard of Shebna, and of the case of Rehoboam, who by
refusing to give _"a soft answer"_ to the people deprived the house
of David of the subjection of the ten tribes.--_Wardlaw._
Nothing doth better stop the fury of a bullet than a mud wall:
nothing doth sooner _turn away_ the fury of _wrath_ than a _soft
answer._ But where the pot is boiling, grievous words make it to boil
over. Wherefore Chrysostom tells thee that thine enemy reconciled is
more in thine own power than in his.--_Jermin._
If gentle words prevail so mightily with most men to appease their
anger, of what force shall the submissive supplications of penitent
persons be with the Lord?--_Dod._
We greatly need an instrument capable of turning away wrath, for
there is much wrath in the world to turn away. . . . That patent
shield is a soft answer. Christianity makes it of the solid metal,
and education supplies at a cheaper rate a plated article, useful as
long as it lasts, and as far as it goes. . . . The Roman
battering-ram, when it had nearly effected a breach in the walls of
solid stone, was often baffled by bags of chaff and beds of down
skilfully spread out to receive its stubborn blow. By that stratagem
the besieged obtained a double benefit, and the besiegers suffered a
double disappointment. The strokes that were given proved harmless,
and the engine was soon withdrawn. In our department a similar law
exists, and a similar experience will come out of it. . . . After
praying to "Our Father" for your offending brother and yourself, you
may speak to him with safety. . . . Pass your resentment through a
period of communion with Him who bought you with His blood, and it
will come out like Christ's, a simple grief for a brother's sin, and
a holy jealousy for truth.--_Arnot._
Verse 2. Eloquence, widely ordered, is very commendable, and availeth
much. "The tongues of the wise useth knowledge aright"--deals kindly
with her, offers her no abuse by venting her unseasonably, and making
her over cheap and little set by. But eloquence abused may well be
termed the attorney general, that makes a good cause seem bad, and a
bad far better than in truth it is.--_Spencer's "Things New and Old."_
Paul, instead of exasperating his heathen congregation by an open
protest, supplied their acknowledged defect, by bringing before them
the true God "whom they were ignorantly worshipping" (Acts xvii. 23).
He pointed an arrow to Agrippa's conscience, by the kindly admission
of his candour and intelligence (Acts xxvi. 27, 29). This _right use
of knowledge_ distinguishes "the workman approved of God, and that
needeth not to be ashamed" (2 Tim. ii. 15).--_Bridges._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 3.
DIVINE INTELLIGENCE.
+I. The Eternal has a perfect knowledge of all places.+ The sun, in
its meridian height, can only penetrate half the globe at the same
time, and even then there are deep valleys and caves of the earth,
and ocean beds where its rays never come; but God's eye rests at once
not only on all places of His dominion in this planet, which is but
as a grain of sand amongst the worlds, but upon every spot in His
boundless universe.
+II. He has a perfect knowledge of the spirits of His creatures.+ The
human soul has power to hide its secrets from the gaze of every
fellow creature. "For what man knoweth the things of a man, save the
spirit of a man which is in him?" (1 Cor. ii. 11). But God's
omniscient eye pierces into the hidden mazes of the soul and reads
the silent thoughts and intents of the heart. In this most secret
region He walks at large. _"O Lord, Thou hast searched me, and known
me, Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, Thou understandest
my thought afar off"_ (Psa. cxxxix. 1, 2). God is the one potentate
and judge who can claim a perfect knowledge of all His subjects from
a personal acquaintance with each individual. Not one is lost in the
crowd; each one stands before Him as distinctly as if he were the
only creature in the universe.
+III. God's perfect knowledge of His creatures leads Him to
contemplate both what is congenial and what is repugnant.+ He
"beholds the evil and the good." Men, when by Divine grace they
become partakers of the Divine Nature, are much moved to gladness by
the sight of that which is morally good, and turn with loathing from
the evil which they must also contemplate. Yet their happiness
springs from that which is within them and not from that which is
around, or the preponderance of evil would make life unbearable. So
the ever-blessed God, conscious of His perfect rectitude, has within
Him a source of eternal satisfaction notwithstanding the "evil" that
He beholds with Divine indignation and sorrow.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
He mentions the "evil" first because they avowedly, or else
practically, deny God's providence (Jer. xvi. 17).--_Fausset._
When we perceive that a vast number of objects enter in at our eye by
a very small passage, and yet are so little jumbled in the crowd that
they open themselves regularly, though there is no great space for
that either, and that they give us a distinct apprehension of many
objects that lie before us, both of their nature, colour, and size,
and by a secret geometry, from the angles that they make in our eye,
we judge of the distance of all objects, both from us and from one
another--if to this we add the vast number of figures that we receive
and retain long, and with great order, in our brains, which we easily
fetch up either in our thoughts or in our discourse, we shall find it
less difficult to apprehend how an Infinite Mind should have the
universal view of all things ever present before it.--_Burnet._
The darkness of the air may hide thee from men, and the darkness of
thine understanding may hide thee from thyself, but there is no
darkness can hide from God. . . . It was a pretty fancy of one that
would have his chamber painted full of eyes, that which way soever he
looked he might still have some eye upon him. And it was a wise
answer of Livius Drusus, when an artist offered so to contrive his
house that he might do what he would and none would see him. "No,"
saith Drusus, "contrive it so, rather, that all may see me, for I am
not ashamed to be seen." If the eyes of men make even the vilest
forbear their beloved lusts for awhile, and they that are drunk are
drunken in the night, how powerful will the eye and presence of God
be with those that fear His anger and know the sweetness of His
favour. The thoughts of this omnipresence of God will quicken thee to
holiness. The soldiers of Israel and Judah were prodigal of their
blood in the presence of their two generals (2 Sam. ii. 14). Servants
will generally work hard while their master looks on. The eye of God,
as of the sun, will call the Christian to his work. Those countries
that are governed by viceroys seldom flourish or thrive so well as
those kingdoms where the prince is present in person. Conscience,
God's viceroy, may much quicken a Christian to holiness, but God, the
Prince, much more. "I have kept Thy precepts," saith David, "for all
my ways are before Thee."--_Swinnock._
He is all-eye, and His providence like a well-drawn picture, that
vieweth all that come into the room. I know Thy works and Thy labour
(Rev. ii); not Thy works only, but Thy labour in doing them. And as
for the offender, though he think to hide himself from God by hiding
God from himself, yet God is nearer to him than the bark is to the
tree, "for in Him all things subsist" (Col. i. 17) and move (Acts
xvii. 28); understand it of the mind's motions also. And this the
very heathen saw by nature's rush candle. For Thales Milesius being
asked whether the gods know not when a man doth aught amiss, "Yea,"
saith he, "if he do but think amiss." "God is nearer to us than we
are to ourselves," saith another. Repletively He is everywhere,
though inclusively nowhere. As for the world, it is to Him as "a sea
of glass," a clear, transparent body; He sees through it. No man
needs a window in his breast (as the heathen Monus wished) for God to
look in at: every man before God is all window (Job
xxxiv. 22).--_Trapp._
Such is the extent of wickedness that in every place He beholdeth the
evil and the good. Yea, if there be but one in a place, that one is
both evil and good, and God beholdeth both his evil and his good. The
_evil_ God beholdeth first, but they are the _good_ on whom He
resteth, as approving of them, and as delighting in them. For their
eyes are upon God in every place, as God's eyes are upon them. The
other looketh not after God, and so God looketh after them, as that
He looketh from them in anger at their wickedness. He contemplates
and considers, which is more than simply to behold, for contemplation
addeth to a simple apprehension a deeper degree of
knowledge.--_Jermin._
The doctrine of Divine omniscience, although owned and argued for by
men's lips, is neglected or resisted in their lives. The unholy do
not like to have a holy eye ever open upon them, whatever their
profession may be. If fallen man, apart from the one Mediator, say or
think that the presence of God is pleasant to them, it is because
they have radically mistaken either their own character or His. They
have either falsely lifted up their own attainments or falsely
dragged down the character of the judge. . . . In every place our
hearts and lives are open in the sight of Him with whom we have to
do. The proposition is absolutely universal. We must beware, however,
lest that feature of the Word which should make it powerful only
renders it indefinite and meaningless. Man's fickle mind treats
universal truths that come from heaven as the eye treats the visible
heaven itself. At a distance from the observer all around the blue
canopy seems to descend and lean upon the earth, but where he stands
it as far above, out of his sight. It touches not him at all; and
when he goes forward to the line where now it seems to touch other
men, he finds it still far above, and the point which applies to this
lower world is distant as ever. Heavenly truth, like heaven, seems to
touch all the world around, but not his own immediate sphere, or
himself its centre. The grandest truths are practically lost in this
way when they are left whole. We must rightly divide the Word, and
let the bits come into every crook of our own character. Besides the
assent to general truth, there must be specific personal application.
A man may own omniscience and yet live without God in the
world.--_Arnot._
The subjects of verses 4 and 5 have been considered before. (See
Homiletics on chap. xii. 17, 18, page 274, and on chap. xiii. 1, page
293.)
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Verse 4. Rueetschi carries the idea of _gentleness_ (see Critical
Notes) through the two clauses as the central idea: "It is precisely
with this gentle speech, which otherwise does so much good, that the
wicked is wont to deceive, and then one is by this more sorely and
deeply stricken and distressed than before."--_Lange's Commentary._
That tongue which is "a witness of truth," and therefore "saves
souls" (chap. xiv. 25), _"is a tree of life."_ Go into any garden of
the lost, and where no such tree is, all are pagans. One sees,
therefore, how the figure is kept up. I am here born into a land
where there are gospel _tongues;_ that is, if, when I grow up, I am
not in China, and not in India, but in a Christian village, where
people have and spread the gospel, that _"tongue, as a healing
thing,_ is (my) _tree of life."_ Where I get "life" is from its
branches.--_Miller._
This verse may be compared with the second. The tongue which "useth
knowledge aright" has a morally and spiritually healing influence. It
imparts instruction to the ignorant. It speaks peace to the troubled
conscience. It soothes the anguish of the afflicted. It subdues the
swelling of passion. It allays the self-inflicted tortures of envy.
It heals divisions and animosities. These and other blessed fruits
entitle it to the designation, "a tree of life;" productive, as it
is, of genuine, varied, and valuable joys to all within the reach of
its influence. And when the tongue makes known God's "saving
health,"--the salvation revealed by Him in the Gospel,--it then gives
life in the highest and most important sense.--_Wardlaw._
A high image of what the tongue ought to be; not negative, not
harmless, but _wholesome,_ or _healing,_ as the salt cast into the
spring cleansed the bitter waters (2 Kings ii. 21). . . . But the
meekest of men felt _perverseness a breach in the spirit_ (Numb.
xvi. 8-15). The tongue of Job's friends broke "the bruised reed" (Job
xiii. 1-5). Even our beloved Lord, who never shrunk from external
evil, keenly felt the piercing edge of this sword (Psa. lxix. 19,
20).--_Bridges._
One stripe of the tongue woundeth three--the backbiter, him that
giveth ear to the backbiting, and the backbitten.--_Cawdray._
Saith the old philosopher, "Than a good tongue there is nothing
better, than an evil nothing worse. It hath no mean; it is either
exceedingly good or exceedingly evil. It knows nothing but extremes,
and is either best of all, or worst of all (Jas. iii. 8). The tongue
is every man's best or worst moveable. . . . A good tongue is the
best part of a man, and most worthy of the honour of sacrifice. This
only when it is well seasoned. Seasoned, I say, with salt, as the
apostle admonisheth; not with fire" (Col. iv. 6).--_T. Adams._
Everlasting benediction be upon that tongue, which spake, as no other
ever did, or could speak, pardon, peace, and comfort to lost mankind.
This was the _tree of life,_ whose leaves were for the healing of the
nations.--_Bishop Horne._
The root of this tree goeth down to the heart, whence it sucketh the
juice of wisdom; its body lieth in the head, where things are
ruminated and concocted by it; the branches of it are the several
speeches of the mouth; the fruit of it is spread abroad as wide as
good occasion is offered.--_Jermin._
Not a _silent_ tongue; mere abstinence from evil is not good. . . .
Idleness is evil under the administration of God. . . . Not a
_smooth_ tongue; it may be soft on the surface, while the poison of
asps lies cherished underneath. The serpent licks his victim all over
before he swallows it. Smoothness is not an equivalent for
truth. . . . Not a _voluble_ tongue; that active member may labour
much to little purpose. . . . Not a _sharp_ tongue: some instruments
are made keen-edges for the purpose of wounding. . . . Not even a
_true_ tongue. Truth is necessary, but it is not enough. The true
tongue must also be _wholesome._ Before anything can be wholesome in
its effects on others it must be whole in itself. . . . "Winged
words" have fluttered about in poetry and prose through all the
languages of the civilised world from old Homer's day till now. The
permanence and prevalency of the expression proves that it embodies a
recognised truth. Words have wings indeed, but they are the wings of
seeds rather than of birds or butterflies. We are all accustomed in
autumn to observe multitudes of diminutive seeds, each balanced on
its own tiny wing, floating past on the breeze. . . . Words are like
these seeds, in their winged character, their measureless multitude,
and their winged speed. They drop off in inconceivable numbers: they
fly far: they are widely spread. It is of deep importance that they
should be for good, and not for evil. The tongue is a prolific tree,
it concerns the whole community that it should be a tree of life, and
not of death.--_Arnot._
Verse 5. He that regardeth reproof is prudent. Wise he is, and wiser
he will be. This made David prize and pray for a reprover (Psa.
cxli. 5).--_Trapp._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 6.
LIKE IN CIRCUMSTANCES, BUT UNLIKE IN CHARACTER.
+I. The wicked and the righteous are often on a level as regards
material wealth.+ One may have "much treasure" and the other great
"revenues," or _gain._ The laws of nature have no respect to
character. God makes His sun to "shine upon the evil and the good,
and sendeth rain upon the just and upon the unjust" (Matt. v. 43), so
that the wicked man reaps a harvest as abundant as that of the
righteous man. And all the laws of Providence move with the same even
step, certainly showing no favour to the good man over the bad.
+II. But though their possessions may be equal, there is great
inequality in the enjoyment of them.+ Character makes all the
difference here. Even "a little that a righteous man hath is better
than the riches of many wicked" (Ps. xxxvii. 16). The wicked man is
troubled by a sense of being out of harmony with all that is holy,
and just, and true in the universe of God, and with a foreboding of
future retribution. The wealth of the spirit is so much more than
material wealth as the spirit is so much more than the body. It is
wealth to have _"a conscience purged from dead works to serve the
living God"_ (Heb. ix. 14), and to "lay up treasure" without being
thus "rich toward God" (Luke xii. 21) is only to _"spend money for
that which is not bread, and labour for that which satisfieth not."_
(See on chap. iii. 14, 15, viii. 11-19, etc.)
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
"The _treasure_ in the house of the righteous" may be understood not
of mere wealth, but of whatever is possessed with contentment and
cheerfulness, with gratitude to God, with an assurance of His
fatherly regard, with the peace that passeth all understanding, with
resignation of spirit to the Divine Will, with the present enjoyment
of spiritual blessing, and the well-founded "hope of glory, honour,
and immortality." . . . We may suppose the revenues of the wicked to
be _acquired_ and _enjoyed_ wickedly. But if not--yet if possessed
and expended without the fear of God, and if the means themselves of
banishing that fear, and preventing the choice of a better
portion,--it may truly be affirmed that in them there is
_"trouble."--Wardlaw._
_"The house,"_ as we have repeatedly seen (see on chap. ix. 1,
xiv. 1), means a man's _whole interest._ The mere _interest_ of the
_"righteous,"_ whether it seem high or low; his lot, whether it be on
high or on a dunghill, his hap, just as it is, whether it be easy or
under pain, is, under the covenant of the Almighty, an enormous
riches; while not _"the house of the wicked"_ (for the wise man
intends another of his climaxes); but stating his condition in the
most favourable way, _"the revenue of the wicked,"_ imagining that to
be of the most favourable kind; and not _"the revenue of the
wicked,"_ but _in_ the revenue, as though the trouble were in the
revenue itself, is, literally, _the being troubled_ (Niphal). The
splendours of the lost will involve but _trouble_ in the whole
eternity.--_Miller._
The treasures of the wicked are too much for their good and too
little for their lusts. . . . But is it not the crown of the
Christian's crown, and the glory of his glory that he cannot desire
more?--_Bridges._
The riches of the wicked, in which they pride themselves, often
consist of paper, and if bonds and charters make a man rich, the
righteous cannot be poor, when they have bonds upon God Himself for
everything they need, and the charter which shows their sure title to
an everlasting inheritance. The devil robbed Job, but he could not
make him poor, for his chief treasure lay quite out of reach of the
enemy.--_Lawson._
Every righteous man is a rich man, whether he hath more or less of
the things of this life. For, _first,_ he hath plenty of that which
is precious. Secondly, _Propriety;_ what he hath is his own; he holds
all in _capite-tenure_ in Christ; he shall not be called to account
as a usurper. "All is yours" (1 Cor. iii. 22), "because you are
Christ's, and Christ is God's." And although he had little, many
times, in present possession, he is rich in reversion.--_Trapp._
His house is God's treasury, himself is God's treasure; wherefore God
watcheth over his house to defend and preserve it; and himself God
keepeth, as the apple of His eye.--_Jermin._
Even the trifling sum which the righteous keeps in his house is a
great treasure, because it has God's blessing; but all the revenues,
the large annual rents of the wicked from all his vast estate, are
mere troubles.--_Burgon._
The thought of verse 7 has been treated before. (See verse 2, etc.)
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Utterance is a gift, and dumb Christians are blameworthy as well as
dumb ministers. "Speak, that I may see thee," said Socrates. When the
heart is full, it overfloweth in speech. We know metals by their
tinkling, and men by their talking.--_Brooks._
In their houses, they catechise their children; in the company of
their neighbours, they entreat of God's Word and works; in the
church, if they be teachers, they publish wholesome
doctrine.--_Muffet._
Most commentators say _scatter_ or _disperse. "Winnow,"_ which has
usage (Ruth iii. 2), bears better upon the second clause. (See
renderings in Critical Notes.) _Winnowing knowledge, i.e.,_ letting
the lips, under the guidance of wisdom, be an instrument for holding
folly back and giving utterance to knowledge, must be the finest
practice for getting strength to piety; while the second clause shows
the incompetence of folly to _"winnow"_ anything, by saying that
_"the heart of the foolish is not fixed"_ (and therefore lacks the
first principles of choice, in separating one thing from the
other).--_Miller._
The foolish sow cockle as fast as wiser men do corn, and are as busy
in digging descents to hell as others are in building staircases for
heaven.--_Trapp._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSES_ 8 _and_ 9.
PRAYING AND LIVING.
+I. God loves righteous men with a special love.+ God has a love for
all His human creatures--a love which springs out of His relationship
to them as their Creator. He loves the "world" (John iii. 16), but
this love cannot be said to spring from likeness of character between
Him and the objects of His love. There is a spontaneous love welling
up in the mother's heart towards her child long before that child has
developed any qualities to win love. The love springs from the
relationship that exists between the child and the parent, and it
exists before there has been time and opportunity to develop a
loveable character. And there is still love in the mother's heart
from the relationship, if, after there has been time to form a
loveable character, no such character is manifested--if there is no
response to the parent's love. There is this spontaneous love in God
for all His human children--a love that, even when it meets with no
response, does not cease to pity those who reject it. _"God
commendeth His love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners,
Christ died for us"_ (Rom. v. 8). _"But after the kindness and love
of God our Saviour toward man appeared, not by works of righteousness
which we have done, but according to His mercy He saved us"_ (Titus
iii. 4, 5). But the spiritual love which God has to righteous men--to
men of integrity--to men who are sincere in their love of
righteousness, and who make conformity to it the end and aim of their
life (see on chap. xi. 3, page 196), is a love which springs from
likeness of character. It is the personal love of a perfectly
Righteous Being for persons whose characters, in some degree,
resemble His own. The good human father loves to see his own
character in miniature in that of his child. He delights to see his
son _"following after"_ him in his holy habits and feelings--he loves
him with a deeper and more joyful love as he sees in him the germs of
holy desires and aims which he knows will be more fully developed as
he grows into manhood. And so the "Heavenly Father" loves with the
love of delight (chap. xii. 22) those of His human sons and daughters
who have begun to reflect His image in their hearts and lives, and
waits with patience until the blade changes to the ear, and the ear
into the full corn--until they are not only _just men,_ but _"just
men made perfect"_ (Heb. xii. 23).
+II. One act of a righteous man which God regards with special
pleasure.+ "The _prayer of _ the upright." 1. _Because it is an
expression of conscious need._ A sense of spiritual need and weakness
is indispensable, even to the continuance of a righteous character,
much more to its growth. While a man feels his need, he will not only
keep what he already has, but will be in the way of getting more.
While he feels that he has not _"already attained"_ neither is
_"already perfect"_ he will _"follow after"_ perfection, he will
_"reach forth unto those things which are before, and press toward
the mark for the prize of the high calling of God"_--(Phil.
iii. 12-14), even to entire and absolute holiness of character. When
he prays, he expresses his sense of need, and thus gives proof of
that lowliness and contrition of heart without which no man can
receive supplies of Divine grace. Therefore God delights in his
prayer. 2. _It is an expression of filial confidence._ He not only
knows what he wants, but he knows who is able and willing to supply
his need. Prayer is in itself an act of faith--it is an expression of
belief that _"God is and that He is a rewarder of them that
diligently seek Him"_ (Heb. xi. 6). A human benefactor, especially a
human parent, feels that application to him for help is a tribute to
his goodness and to his power--it is a manifestation that those who
seek his aid are assured of his willingness and ability to meet their
need. So with the Divine Friend and Father. He loves to have His
compassion and His power confided in by His creatures. 3. _It is an
act of obedience._ God has commanded "men always to pray" (Luke
xviii. 1). It was a condition to be observed under the Old Testament
dispensation, as well as under that of the new. _"Thus saith the
Lord, I will yet for this be inquired of by the house of Israel to do
it for them"_ (Ezek. xxxvi. 37). _ Ask and it shall be given you"_
(Luke xi. 9). The conditions are easy, but they are indispensable. No
wise parent gives his children what they desire, except certain
conditions are fulfilled. They may be very easy, but in no
well-governed family are they dispensed with. So in God's family.
True He knows what His children need before they ask Him, even better
than the wisest and most tender human parent, but the command is
absolute, the condition without exception. Prayer is therefore
acceptable to Him because it is an act of obedience to His command.
+III. God abhors the way of the wicked.+ 1. _Because they are at war
with their better nature._ There are instincts in every man which are
opposed to wrong-doing. There is a light which lightens every man
that cometh into the world. When men sin they war against their own
better nature. Cain possessed instincts which he must have stifled
and trampled down before he could shed his brother's blood, and so it
is with every son of Adam. God must hate that which debases the
creature whom He created in His own image. 2. _Because their ways are
at war with His purpose to bless them._ A wise statesman may conceive
a plan which he sees by his superior intelligence is calculated to
bring great blessings to his nation. He labours to make the nation
see it also--he uses all his reasoning power and all the force of his
eloquence to bring it into operation, to make it the law of the land.
But the very people whom it is intended to benefit may, from
ignorance and prejudice, oppose his wise and beneficent efforts. He
looks upon their opposition with the deepest displeasure, because it
is opposed to their own welfare. If a son rebel against the plans
which a wise and good father has formed for his benefit, the father
must be deeply displeased at the obstinacy which thus frustrates his
purpose of love and wisdom. God's complaint against Israel was, _"I
have nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled
against Me"_ (Isa. i. 2)--rebelled against all His gracious plans and
purposes concerning them, and that is His quarrel with the ways of
wicked men in general that crosses all His purposes of mercy towards
them.
+IV. Their acts of worship are especially displeasing to Him.+ They
are offered with no sense of spiritual need--with no desire to
forsake sin. When such men engage in outward acts of worship it is as
if a thief were to offer to his judge some of his unlawful gain as a
bribe to be allowed to go free of punishment. God so regarded the
sacrifices of Israel when they came into His courts with _"hands full
of blood." "Your new moons and your appointed feasts My soul hateth"_
(Isa. i. 14, 15). They were an abomination to Jehovah because the
hearts of the men who offered them were in love with sin and desired
only, if possible, to escape the penalty due to it. Men in all ages
would have been well pleased to "be pardoned and to retain the
offence," but the very suggestion of such a thing is a gross insult
to the righteousness of God, and as this is the only construction
that can be put upon a drawing near to Him in outward service while
the heart is far from Him (Isa. xxix. 13), the _sacrifice_ of the
wicked must be the act most abhorrent to God of a way which is
altogether an "abomination unto Him."
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Verse 8. When an ungodly man prays, it is not the _act of prayer_
that constitutes the sin, it is the want of a _praying heart._ The
sin is _in him,_ not in his prayer.--_Wardlaw._
The formal devotion of a faithless man is not worth the crust of
bread which he asks.--_T. Adams._
Man judges by acts, God by principles. _The sacrifice of the wicked,_
though it be part of God's own service, yet "will be found in His
register in the catalogue of sins to be accounted for" (_Bp.
Hopkins_). Is he then finally rejected? Far from it. His desire to
seek the Lord would be the beginning of the prayer that ensures
acceptance. That which brings acceptance is--not the perfection, but
the simplicity of uprightness.--_Bridges._
"Sacrifice and prayer" are not here contrasted as the higher and the
lower, but "sacrifice" is a gift to God, "prayer" is desiring from
Him (Comp. Isa. i. 11, 15, etc.). Yet this is by no means an
essential difference; for both sacrifice and prayer, which indeed
fall likewise under the category of offering in the broadest sense
(Ps. cxix. 108; Heb. xiii. 15) come under consideration here only as
general tokens of reverence for God; and the value of both is clearly
defined by this test, whether the state of heart is or is not well
pleasing to God.--_Lange's Commentary._
It is not works that make the man good, but when a man is justified
his works are also good. God in His grace makes well pleasing to
Himself the works that come of faith, even though great imperfections
still mingle with them.--_Starke._
_"The sacrifice of the wicked,"_ though it may be very costly--the
column of Stylites, the hook-swinging of the east, the millions of
anxious charity--without grace must be purely sin. _"The prayer of
the upright,"_ though it _asks_ instead of _gives,_ yet it is a
_delight,_ where the other is an _abomination._ A man may serve God
out of sheer selfish wickedness. Moreover, _all_ are abominable.
There is no just man upon earth. But the righteous has the
righteousness of Christ; while these others are left, without a
cover, to their own abominable guiltiness.--_Miller._
Works _materially_ good many never prove so _formally_ and
_eventually,_ viz.: (1) When they proceed not from a right principle;
(2) When they tend not to a right end. The glory of God must consume
all other ends, as the sun puts out the light of the fire. But the
prayer that proceeds from an upright heart, though but faint and
feeble, doth come before God, even "into His ears" (Psa. xviii. 6),
and so strangely charms Him (Isa. xxvi. 16) that He breaks forth into
these words: "Ask me of things concerning my sons, and concerning the
works of my hands command ye me" (Isa. xlv. 11). Oh that we
understood the latitude of this royal charter!--_Trapp._
Verse 9. "The way of the wicked is abomination." Not his sacrifices
only, but his civilities: all his actions--natural, moral,
recreative, religious--are offensive to God. The very "ploughing of
the wicked is sin" (Prov. xxi. 4). . . . But He loveth him that
followeth after righteousness, although he fulfil not all
righteousness, yet if he make after it with might and main, if he
pursue it and have it in chase, "if by any means he may attain to the
resurrection of the dead" (Phil. iii. 11); that is, the height of
holiness that accompanies the resurrection: this is the man whom God
loves. Now God's love is not an empty love; it is not like the winter
sun, that casteth a goodly countenance when it shines, but gives
little warmth and comfort. "Thou meetest him that rejoiceth and
worketh righteousness; those that remember Thee in Thy ways" (Isa.
lxiv. 5), "that think upon Thy commandments to do them" (Psa.
ciii. 20), that are weak but willing (Heb. xiii. 8), that are lifting
at the latch, though they cannot do up the door: "Surely, shall every
such one say, in the Lord have I righteousness and strength" (Isa.
xlv. 24). "Righteousness," that is, mercy to those that come over to
Him, and "strength" to enable them to come, as the sea sends out
waters to fetch us to it.--_Trapp._
The way of the wicked and the abomination of the Lord go on with
equal paces. It is his way, because he leadeth himself in it,
refusing to follow the guide of instruction: and God's way it is,
wherein His abomination pursueth after him. . . . St. Bernard saith,
"God loveth, neither doth this arise from anything in others, but
Himself it is from whence He loveth; and therefore the more
vehemently, because He doth not so much love, as rather Himself is
love."--_Jermin._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 10.
OUT OF THE WAY.
+I. There is a pre-ordained way for man to walk in.+ 1. _Nature
suggests this._ Everything there speaks of law and order.
2. _Conscience suggests it._ 3. _Revelation declares it._ (On this
subject see Homiletics on chap. xii. 28; xiii. 13, 14; pages 291 and
313.)
+II. A man may break loose from this God-ordained path.+ That he
_can_ do this is his glory; that he _does_ do it is his shame. A
convict is compelled to keep to a certain path, he is obliged to
conform to a routine laid down for him by another. His outward life
is governed by no will of his own, all his acts are prescribed by an
authority which he cannot resist. But God will not keep men in the
way in which He desires them to walk by such means. He did not so
fence about the angels in heaven. They were "free to fall," and so
are we. God treats His creatures as free men, not as prisoners. They
have power to choose when they will serve; they are free to choose
the way in which they will walk. All the force that is exerted over
them is the force of moral suasion.
+III. The correction that follows this forsaking of the way is
intended to punish and to reclaim.+ In all well-ordered human
governments, and in all well-governed families, the main intention of
punishment (except in the case of capital punishment) is improvement
of character. This ought to be the chief aim of all human correction.
It is the main intention in all the chastisements of God in this
world. There is no retribution which comes to man in this world which
will not, if accepted in a right spirit, become a means of restoring
him to the forsaken path; therefore
+IV. To hate reproof is to shut out all possibility of moral
restoration.+ A man who will not be reproved denies the imperfection
of his nature. Every imperfect being must need correction, and for
man to rebel against the chastisement of God is to pass sentence of
death upon himself. (On this subject see Homiletics on chapters
iii. 11, 12; xii. 1; xiii. 18; pages 247, 323, etc.)
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
We should always look hopefully at a sinner under _correction._ For,
surely, so long as the physician administers the medicine, there is
no ground for despondency. . . . This costly teaching brings us on
wonderfully. Lord! let me know the smart of Thy rod rather than the
eclipse of Thy love.--_Bridges._
There are three sorts of passengers that go out of the way. He that
mistaketh the way, he that forsaketh his way, and he that loveth to
be out of the way. Many miss the way who never were in it, or, being
in the way, were missed from it, and these, oftentimes, are glad to
be corrected and brought into the way. He forsaketh the way who at
first is set in it, and seeing how to go on aright, yet willingly
departeth from it: to such an one correction is grievous, and he
suffereth it with trouble, but yet many times he is reduced by it. He
loveth to be out of the way who hateth reproof, and of his amendment
there is little hope. . . . The force of the verse is, that the
suffering of correction is grievous, but that the hating of reproof
is most pernicious.--_Jermin._
Of all sinners, reproofs are worse resented by apostates.--_Henry._
_"Discipline is an evil to him who forsakes the path."_ (See
rendering in Critical Notes.) In our common version this idea is not
brought out. It is a very grave one. Men not converted, but steadily
_"forsaking the path of holiness,"_ are injured by _"discipline."_ In
_"hating reproof"_ they go through the very soul-action which we mean
when we say, _"they die."_ Each _"hating"_ emotion kills them. And
this is the very philosophy of the _letter-killing_ (2 Cor. iii. 6);
not that it is poison in itself, but that the Gospel awakens
opposition, which, on its part, corrupts the mind.--_Miller._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 11.
TWO WORLDS.
+I. Two worlds out of reach of the human senses--the world of
departed men and the human soul.+ Both these mysterious worlds are
shut out or shut in from the eye of man by the bolts and bars of his
bodily senses. How exceedingly small a portion of the vast universe
of God is revealed to the eye of sense! The small globe upon which
man finds himself is nearly all that he can possibly know with his
bodily vision. Reason may tell him that there is much more, faith may
afford him clearer evidence of things not seen (Heb. xi. 1), but over
all there is a veil drawn. The vast world, where dwells the great
majority of the human race--that unseen home, peopled with the
spirits of just men made perfect, and the dwelling-place of the
spirits of the unjust--are regions entirely beyond the reach of human
sight. And there is another world equally out of the reach of his
vision. He has never seen the soul of any one of the thousands of
fellow-men with whom he has come in contact. He has never read the
heart of his most intimate friend. His own "living soul," even that
which is _himself,_ has never been apprehended by his bodily senses.
He has never touched or looked upon _that._
+II. But both these invisible worlds are entirely open to the eye of
God.+ The world of spirits and the individual soul of each man are
seen by Him as plainly as we see the material world around us, or as
we see the bodies of our fellow-creatures. And they are far more
fully comprehended by Him than the visible things upon which our eyes
rest every day are comprehended by us. For what do we really know of
the essential properties of that by which we are surrounded? Is not
our very bodily organism a mystery to us? But each soul of each
individual man in the body, and each "unclothed" (2 Cor. v. 4) spirit
in the worlds of the departed is "naked and open" in the eyes of Him
with whom each one "has to do" (Heb. iv. 13) as really and as
intimately as if in all the universe there was only one creature of
whom the omniscient Creator had to take cognizance.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
It is the gross persuasion of some, as if hell and destruction were
only things that God did set before us, and that they were not before
Him; as if they were things wherewith God did only terrify us, and
which should never be. But the wise man telleth us, that they are
before the Lord, and that though we know not where hell is and what
is done there, yet it is before God's eyes. And, therefore, though
the heart of the children of men be made as deep as hell by hellish
devices, yet much more is that manifest to God. The heart of man is
more manifest to Him than it is to himself. Wherefore St. Augustine,
speaking unto God, saith, "Thou wert within, and I was without." For,
indeed, God is often within and knoweth what our hearts are, when we
ourselves are without and do not know them.--_Jermin._
This terrible truth these hearts secretly know, and their desperate
writhings to shake it off show how much they dislike it. The Romish
confessional is one of the most pregnant facts in the history of man.
It is a monument and measure of the guilty creature's enmity against
God. . . . We have wondered at the blindness and stupidity of our
common nature in permitting a man, not more holy than his neighbours,
to stand in the place of God to a brother's soul. There is cause for
grief, but not ground for surprise. The phenomenon proceeds in the
way of natural law. It is the common, well understood process of
compounding for the security of the whole, by the voluntary surrender
of a part. The confessional is a kind of insurance office where
periodical exposure of the heart to a man is the premium paid for
fancied impunity in hiding that heart altogether from the deeper
scrutiny of the all-seeing God. . . . It is God's love from the face
of Jesus Christ shining into my dark heart that makes my heart open
and delight to be His dwelling-place. The eye of the just Avenger I
cannot endure to be in the place of sin; but the eye of the
compassionate Physician I shall gladly admit into this place of
disease.--_Arnot._
_"Because also the hearts of the children of men."_ (See Miller's
rendering in Critical Notes.) The intimation is _God knows hell
because He knows man._ He knows that "hating reproof," we die (verse
10), and just how fast we die or sink by each act of hating. In other
words, he knows how fast sin grows under an administration of
justice; and, therefore, how far a given sinner will have gone down,
at any date, through his eternal age.--_Miller._
This verse may denote that the deepest machinations of the prince of
hell, and of all his legions of fallen angels, are open to the Lord's
inspection, and must end in their disappointment and deeper torment;
how, then can man, who is so inferior in sagacity and subtlety,
expect to hide his counsels from God, or to prosper in rebellion
against Him? "There is nothing so deep or secret that can be hid from
the eyes of God, much less man's thoughts."--_Scott._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 12.
SELF-DESTROYED.
+I. That a scorner is in hopeless ignorance.+ "Neither will he go
unto the wise." If a thirsty man will not go to the river to which he
has free and easy access, there is no hope of his thirst being
quenched. If he will not apply to the only source whence his need can
be supplied, he must remain in his needy condition. If a man who is
sick will not apply to him who is able to cure his malady, the
probability is that he will remain under the influence of disease,
and die of his malady. If a man who is ignorant of the revelation of
God, and of the healing power of Divine truth, refuses to go where
wisdom is to be found--viz., among those who have been enlightened by
Divine wisdom, there is no hope of his ever emerging from his state
of ignorance. God uses one divinely enlightened man to turn another
from darkness to light. This is the method of His procedure in His
kingdom, and if the scorner rejects this means, he must remain in
darkness. He may "go unto the wise" by listening to the voice of the
living man, by observing the life of the morally wise, or by reading
their thoughts, especially those of the divinely-inspired writers of
the Scriptures. Men have begun to learn wisdom by each one of these
methods; generally there is the combined influence of the three.
+II. The true source of the scorner's dislike to the company of the
wise.+ He "hates reproof." As reproof is knowledge (see ch. xiii. 18,
page 323) so an increase of knowledge, if it is not used, is reproof.
The words of the wise and the lives of the wise reprove the scorner
by increasing his light, and thus adding to his guilt. He therefore
"cometh not to the light lest his deeds should be reproved" (John
iii. 20). He is like a man who is conscious that he is suffering from
a dangerous disease, but who will not submit to the examination of
the physician because he knows he would prescribe treatment which,
though it would cure, would be painful. No men love reproof any more
than they love the surgeon's knife; but wise men submit to the one
and the other for the sake of the health to soul and to body which
will follow. But the scorner hates the keen-edged weapon of reproof
because he does not value the good that would result from patiently
bearing the incision.
+III. Every scorner, therefore, is a self-destroyer.+ A man commits
suicide if, when he is sick, he refuses to use the means by which he
might be healed. If he die, he takes away his life as truly as if he
thrust a sword through his body. He is not accountable for his
disease, but he is responsible and blameworthy for neglecting means
of cure within his reach. So with men in relation to spiritual
knowledge. Ignorance is a crime only when the means of enlightenment
are within reach. He who scorns to avail himself of those means, he
who will not submit to reproof, he who rejects the invitation and
despises the threatenings of Divine Wisdom (see chap. i. 20-33) is a
moral suicide. (See also on chap. xiv. 6, page 346.)
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Men should "run to and fro to increase knowledge" (Dan. xii. 4). The
Shunamite rode ordinarily to the prophet on the Sabbaths and other
holy days (2 Kings iv. 23). Those good souls in Psalm lxxxiv. 7
passed on "from strength to strength," setting the best foot forwards
for like purpose; yea, those that were weak and unfit for travel
would be brought to the ordinances upon "horses, in chariots, and in
litters" (Isa. lxvi. 20). But now the scorner holds it not worth
while to put himself to these pains, and is ready to say with
Jeroboam, "It is too much for men to go up to Jerusalem," to go up
"to the mountain of the Lord, to learn His ways" (Isa. ii. 3). Yea,
he set watches to observe who would go from him to Judah to worship,
that he might shame them at least, if not slay them (Hos. v. 1). He
would never have gone to the prophet to be reproved, and when the
prophet came to him, he stretched out his hand to apprehend him. So
Herod had a desire to see Christ, but could never find a heart to go
to hear him; and yet our Saviour looked that men should have come as
far to Him as the Queen of Sheba came to Solomon.--_Trapp._
Here is instruction for all men, to observe the state of their own
souls, and the better, when occasion is offered, to inform themselves
of others by the company which they most delight to frequent. He that
delighteth to associate himself with good men, is never to be deemed
a friend to evil ways, and he that embraceth the fellowship of sinful
persons, must needs be judged an enemy to godly behaviour. When David
would clear himself to be none of the wicked, he made it fully
manifest by this, _that he went not with vain persons, neither kept
company with dissemblers: that he hated the assembly of the evil and
companioned not with the wicked._ When he would prove himself to be
one of the righteous, he evidently confirmed it by this, that _he was
a companion of all them that feared the Lord and kept His
precepts.--Dod._
There is none that loveth more truly, that loveth more profitably,
than he that lovingly reproveth what he seeth amiss. And yet there is
none that a scorner loveth less. But what marvel if he loveth not
another, that loveth not himself! Where scorning is, there can be no
love, that was never love's disposition. Let no one that reproveth a
scorner look for love from him. . . . But let the wise reprove him
notwithstanding, and as St. Cyprian speaketh, if they cannot persuade
him, to make him to please Christ, let themselves perform to Christ
that which is their part, and let them please Christ by keeping his
commandments.--_Jermin._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 13.
A CHEERFUL FACE AND A BROKEN SPIRIT.
+I. The outer man is to a large extent an index of the inner life.+
The joy of the heart is made visible upon the countenance. This is
one of the infinitely kind and wise arrangements of God which
minister so much to human happiness. We have but to consider the
influence of a cheerful face to know how great a blessing it is that
a merry heart maketh a cheerful countenance. "How blank would be the
aspect of the world," says Dr. Arnot, "if no image of a man's thought
could ever be seen glancing through his countenance! Our walk through
life would be like a solitary walk through a gallery of statues--as
cold as marble, and not nearly so beautiful."
+II. The effect of sorrow upon the human spirit.+ It _"breaks"_ it.
When a vessel's timbers are shivered by the fury of the storm she may
not go to pieces altogether. But she is no longer able to hold her
own against the elements, which she could once use as forces to
convey her from land to land. If she were now to put to sea, instead
of riding over the waves and making them her servants, she would be a
passive thing in their hands, a mere helpless bundle of timbers to be
tossed whithersoever they pleased, instead of "walking the waters
like a thing of life." So it is with the human spirit when the cross
seas and angry winds of adverse circumstances have quenched the hope
and paralysed the energy that once governed and inspired the man. He
is no longer able to face the storms of life, and outride them, or
even make them advance his interests. He is passive amid the changes
and chances of mortal life, and they drift him on wheresoever they
will. But this can never be the case unless a man has lost faith in
the character of God and his own high and immortal destiny. Then,
indeed, the elements which he was built to rule will rule him, and he
will fail to fulfil the end for which God launched him on the sea of
life.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
I have always preferred cheerfulness to mirth. The latter I consider
as an act, the former as a habit, of the mind.--_Addison._
The _"sorrow of heart"_ here spoken of, we may consider as that which
arises from an evil conscience, from envy, discontent, and other
similar sources.--_Wardlaw._
A "merry" or "glad" heart is one of the attributes of piety. It
(literally) _"does good to the countenance," improves it,_ as we say
in our idiom, "Come with us, and we will do thee good" (Numb.
x. 29).--_Miller._
This word _merriment_ is of frequent use among our old writers. It is
Foxe's favourite description of the holy joy of the
martyrs.--_Bridges._
It sits smiling in the face, and looks merrily out of the windows of
the eyes. But this is not till faith has healed the conscience, and
till grace has hushed the affections, and composed all within.
Stephen looked like an angel when he stood before the council (Acts
vi. 15); and the apostles went away rejoicing (Acts v. 41). There are
that rejoice in the face only, and not in the heart (2 Cor. v. 12);
this is but hypocrisy of mirth, and we may be sure that many a man's
heart bleeds within him when his face counterfeits a smile. It is for
an Abraham only to laugh for joy of the promise, and for a David to
"rejoice at the word as one that findeth great spoil" (Psalms
cxix. 162), wherein the pleasure is usually as much as the profit.
Christ's chariot, wherein he carries people up and down in the world,
and brings them at length to Himself, is "paved with love" (Cant.
iii. 9, 10); He brings them also into His wine cellar (Cant. ii. 4),
where He cheers up their hearts, and clears up their countenances,
and this is Heaven beforehand. These are some few clusters of the
grapes of the celestial Canaan. But as the looks are marred, so the
spirits are dulled and disabled by sorrow, as a limb out of joint can
do nothing without deformity or pain. Dejection takes off the wheels
of the soul, hinders comfortable intercourse with God, and that
habitual cheerfulness, that Sabbath of the spirit, that every man
should strive to enjoy. Afflictions, saith one, are the wind of the
soul, passions the storm. The soul is well carried when neither so
becalmed that it moves not when it should, nor yet tosses with
tempests of wrath, grief, fear, etc., to move disorderly. Of these we
must be careful to crush the very first insurrections; storms rise
out of little gusts, but the top of those mountains above the middle
region are so quiet that ashes, lightest things, are not moved out of
place.--_Trapp._
Mirth and cheerfulness make a man not only fitter for the occasions
of this world, but even for spiritual affairs also. Wherefore Elisha
calleth for a minstrel that, being angry with the king of Israel, by
the melody of the music a more soft and sweet disposition might
possess him. . . . "Joy," saith Aquinas, "is, as it were, a juice
spreading itself over the whole man, dispersing the comfort of itself
to all the faculties of the soul, and all parts of the body." But,
now, what is it that maketh a merry heart? Surely not the things of
this world. They only do beset the heart with a dream of mirth, they
do only make the heart drunken with some flushings of joy. A merry
heart indeed is that which the assurance of God's favour rejoiceth,
and that will make the countenance cheerful in any trouble, even in
death itself. It is true also that by sorrow of heart the spirit is
broken, the heart and the spirit being but one string of life. But
what is it by which the heart should be made sorrowful? Surely not
the things of this life, seeing the life of the heart is so far above
them. For it is a shameful folly to hurt a better thing for that
which is far worse. No; nothing should make the heart sorrowful but
repentance for sin, and as that casteth down the spirit, so will it
raise it up again. Wherefore Augustine saith, "Let the penitent
always be grieved, and let him rejoice for his grief." Nothing should
make the heart sad but the fear of God's displeasure, and if that
break the spirit, it will heal it again with endless
consolation.--_Jermin._
The principal thought of verse 14 is a repetition in a slightly
varied form of a truth that has been considered before. (See on chap.
xii. 1, xiii. 18, etc.)
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
They are the wisest men that are most sensible of the imperfection of
their wisdom.--_Lawson._
_"The mouth of fools feed,"_ etc., literally, _pastures,_ like a
brute. A thing fed takes the texture of its nourishment. The
_"mouth"_ or _"face"_ (see Critical Notes) of the fool grows more and
more inane and brutal.--_Miller._
As a hungry man seeks meat, or a covetous man gold, the more he hath
the more he desires. Moses was no sooner off the mount where he had
seen God face to face, but he cries, "Lord, show me Thy glory!"
David, that knew more than his teachers, cries ever and anon, "Teach
me Thy statutes." Job prefers knowledge before his necessary food
(chap. xxiii. 12). The wise man finds no such sweetness in the most
delicate and dainty dishes, as in the search after Divine knowledge
(Psa. cxix. 103). Even Aristotle saith that a little knowledge,
though conjectural, about heavenly things is to be preferred above
knowledge, though certain, about earthly things. And Agur saith it is
to ascend into heaven (Prov. xxx. 4).--_Trapp._
_First,_ because the one sort is after the spirit, and therefore they
favour the things of the spirit; and the other sort is after the
flesh, and therefore they favour the things of the flesh. _Secondly,_
because the one sort is guided by judgment, and choose that which
will comfort their consciences; and the other is altogether led by
lust, and seek only that which will satisfy their senses. _Thirdly,_
faith makes the one sort to cast an eye to that which will follow
hereafter; and sensuality causeth the other (like brute beasts, made
to be destroyed) only to look to that which is present.--_Dod._
Knowledge is necessary for us, not only to manage the affairs of this
life, but also to perform the service of our Maker. Conscience may
dictate to us that things are right or wrong, but conscience may be
mistaken in her decisions, unless she call in reason to her
assistance, for a clear knowledge of the revealed will of God cannot
be understood without application of mind. . . . The desire of
knowledge is in some sense natural to us all and is manifested very
soon. We see how early curiosity exerts itself in lively children.
But this natural desire may be misused. 1. _It may be too little._
Some persons do not desire knowledge so much as they ought,
especially they are negligent in acquiring religious knowledge. This
negligence may proceed from too warm a pursuit of other things. But
what will this world avail us, if we are excluded from an inheritance
in the next? It may proceed from mere sloth. But the unprofitable
servant, who suffers his talents to lie useless, is to be cast into
outer darkness. 2. _It may be too much._ Some things there are which
we ought not to know, and a vain curiosity after them is an abuse of
our natural desire of knowledge. This curiosity brought on the fall
of our first parents, and still reigns among their posterity. Sin
should only be known, as the rocks at sea, that they may be avoided.
It becomes us also to be contented with such a knowledge of the
Divine nature, and the Divine administration, as we are capable of
acquiring, and of future events so far as God hath seen fit to reveal
them.--_Jortin._
The mouth of fools--the mouth of their souls and
understandings--feedeth upon anything; even foolishness itself is
good food unto them. Their distempered palate judgeth not the worth
of things. They have a mouth to receive knowledge, but they have not
a heart to consider and discern what they do receive. None is so ill
a feeder as fools. Such fools are they in the prophet Isaiah who say,
"Prophesy not unto us, right things speak unto us," as the original
word is, _bland_ things, pleasing things; but the word signifieth in
the first place _scattered_ things, such as coming from a scattered
brain have no order and aim at no material point. Or else scattered
things which may strike at none, which may hurt none, do no good to
any. And, indeed, too many such there are. The world is full of
speakers and talkers, that speak things they know not, and teach
things they have not learned.--_Jermin._
The Queen of Sheba, "coming from the utmost parts of the earth;"
Nicodemus and Mary, "sitting at the feet of Jesus;" the Eunuch,
journeying to Jerusalem; Cornelius and his company drinking in the
precious message of salvation; the Bereans, carefully "searching the
Scriptures," all these show _"the understanding heart seeking_ a
larger interest in the blessing."--_Bridges._
That in "_seeking_ knowledge" the idea of feasting on it is included,
is evident from the terms of the antithesis. It is a feast of
"knowledge" above all, of _divine knowledge_. He who has
"understanding,"--who is enlightened of God, and discerns the
excellency and glory of divine truth--_"seeketh"_ such knowledge.
From experience of the joy already imparted by it, he seeks more and
still more--the appetite growing by gratification, delighted with
every new discovery, yet never tiring of the old (1 Pet. ii. 1-3).
"But the mouth of fools _feedeth on_ foolishness." That is what they
like; that is therefore what they seek, and from which they have
their own poor and pitiful enjoyment. In regard to _religion itself_
they are taken with everything that serves the present purpose of
keeping all quiet within; that lets conscience alone; that dispenses
with serious thought, and preventing inward disturbance, allows them
to go on easily and comfortably. They have a relish for all doctrines
of this unannoying description--that "prick not" their hearts; that
embitter not present sweets by any forebodings of the future; that
"prophesy smooth things, and cause the Holy One of Israel to cease
from before them"--the _scarer_ of their thoughtless mirth and sinful
gratification. They have an appetite for everything of that
kind.--_Wardlaw._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 15.
THE CONTINUAL FEAST.
+I. All men have days of affliction.+ They may be traced to one of
four sources--1. _Men are afflicted by reason of their relation to
the first head of the human race._ Every man inherits bodily
weaknesses of some kind--is, in apostolic phrase, made subject to
vanity (Rom. viii. 20) of some kind or another for which he is not
personally responsible--which is not the fruit of his own character
or conduct, nor of that of his immediate ancestors. Mental sorrows
are also born of this remote relationship. The human mind is not now
what it was when it came first from the hand of its Creator. God at
the beginning made man perfect--his spirit was a reflection of the
perfect law of God, and all within was consequently harmony and
peace. But it is not so now, even with the best of the human race.
There has been a subjection to vanity through sin, and this is the
fruitful source of much mental pain and sorrow to all men, although
they are often unconscious of the origin of the darkness that
envelops their spirit. 2. _Men are afflicted by reason of their
immediate relationships._ A child who has a bad father suffers much
and grievously, the father who owns a wicked child often has many
days of deep affliction. A nation may be deeply afflicted by reason
of the viciousness or unwisdom of its rulers. Many and various are
the afflictions which come to men through those to whom they are
related, whether by family or national ties. 3. _Afflictions arise
from personal transgression of God's laws._ These transgressions may
be either of a negative or positive character--they may consist in
doing what we ought not to do, or in leaving undone that which it is
our duty to do. Much affliction comes to men because they have
neglected to do for mind, body, or estate that which they are
commanded by God to do. Men who neglect to work, or who neglect to
conform to the laws by which their mind or their body is governed,
must pay the penalty, and often suffer much affliction from the mere
neglect of duty. And much more will those know days of affliction who
are positive transgressors of any Divine law, whether physical or
moral. 4. _Affliction comes to men sometimes by Divine permission,
either to chasten men for sin or to increase the goodness of their
characters._ Affliction came to Job, and he had many evil days, not
because he was a sinner, but because he was a saint. Good man as he
was, he had many days of affliction--days which were to him very
evil--but they arose neither from his remote or immediate
relationships, nor from personal or relative transgression, but were
the outcome of Satanic agency, acting by Divine permission.
+II. Days of affliction are evil days.+ While the patient is under
the knife of the surgeon he is undergoing an experience which is in
itself an evil, which is an experience to be dreaded and avoided if
possible, however good may be the days of health which are the result
of it. No one can feel that affliction in itself is anything but an
evil--much good may come out of it, but that does not make the actual
suffering of body or mind good in itself. If the sufferings of the
present life were unconnected with the blessings which will spring
out of them, if they were not regarded in the light of Divine
revelation they would be unmitigated evils.
+III. Evil days work good to him who can rise above them.+ If a
seaman can be cheerful and hopeful in the midst of a storm, he is all
the better for having passed through it. His courage is strengthened
and his experience is enlarged, he is more of a man than before he
entered into conflict with the winds and waves. While others have
been overwhelmed with terror, he has been full of a calm
self-possession, and that which has shown how weak many men are, has
shown how strong he is. But in order thus to rise above outward
circumstances, there must be internal resources. Only those can come
through the storms of life stronger and the better for having passed
through them who have an unfailing well of hope and comfort within.
The martyrs of old revealed that they had a continual feast within,
although they had many days of affliction without. Their "merry
hearts," filled with true and unfailing gladness, lifted them above
the bitterness and evil of their circumstances. Thus to glory in
tribulation is to take "meat out of the eater and sweetness out of
the strong." But only those can practise this art who, like their
Master, "have meat to eat" of which men in general "know not of"
(John iv. 32).
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
The feast of him who is of "a merry heart," who has within himself
the sources of true joy, is not terminated--is not even suspended--in
the season of affliction. _His_ feast is independent of changing
condition. He often relishes it most when other sweets are
embittered. Often is his inward spiritual festivity the richest, when
the supply of his outward and earthly comforts is
scantiest.--_Wardlaw._
Affliction, as the fruit and chastening of sin, is an evil. . . .
Though the abounding consolation of Christian affliction does not
blot out its penal character, yet the child of God is not so
miserable as he seems to be (2 Cor. vi. 10). The darkest of these
_evil days_ can never make the consolations of God small with him
(Job xv. 11). He can sing in the prison (Acts xvi. 25), can "take
joyfully the spoiling of his goods" (Heb. x. 34), can praise his God
when He has stripped him naked (Job i. 21). What real _evil_ then can
affliction bring? Or rather what does it bring but many feast days? A
few days' feasting would soon weary the epicure. But here the _merry
heart hath a continual feast.--Bridges._
_"All the days of the toiling are evil, but a good heart is a
continual feast."_ A glorious comparison! A sour heart is fed by a
hard life; and yet, though the hard life is common to all, a
brightened spirit masters it, and not only masters it but sweetens
it. _Toiling._ the word is very peculiar. _"Afflicted"_ our version
has it. _"Humble"_ is the translation in many cases. Toiling strikes
us best, (1) because such is the root--the verb, first of all, means
to _toil_--and (2) because such is the sense; the toiling character
of life makes all groan together. We are not paid. Such is the toil
of our spirits that life is a battle. As a worldly maxim, _"a good
heart"_ carries the day; but, as an adopted text, the wise saw
strengthens itself. Under the toils of life, _"a good heart,"_
regenerate by grace, greets the same toil the lost man does, and
finds the _"heart"_ itself _"a continual feast."--Miller._
This is diligently to be observed, that none can have a cheerful mind
indeed but only such as, through faith in Christ having peace with
God, pollute not their consciences with detestable iniquities. For
indeed evils enter into such to trouble their minds, to profane their
joys, and to pull them from the continual feast of security here
spoken of, who either walk in the committing of gross offences, or
are close hypocrites and dissemblers.--_Muffet._
He that hath a heart merry in a good contentment can always invite
himself to a full feast. When he hath not wherewith to feast
others--yea, even when he wanteth perhaps what to eat, he wanteth not
wherewith to feast himself. It is not a feast that must have time to
provide it, and to make it ready, and which, being ready, is soon
passed over; but it is a continual feast, ever ready, and never
ended.--_Jermin._
The sincere heart, the quiet conscience, will not only stand under
greatest pressure, as did St. Paul (2 Cor. i. 9-12), but goes as
merrily to die in a good cause as ever he did to dine, as did divers
martyrs. Be the air clear or cloudy, he enjoys a continual serenity,
and sits continually at that blessed feast, whereat the blessed
angels are cooks and butlers, as Luther hath it, and the three
Persons in the Trinity gladsome guests. Mr. Latimer saith the
assurance of heaven is the sweetmeats of this feast. There are other
dainty dishes, but this is the banquet. Saith St. Bernard, "Wilt
thou, O man, never be sad? wilt thou turn thy whole life into a merry
festival? get and keep a good conscience." A good man keeps a holiday
all the year about.--_Trapp._
So far as we would live a comfortable life, we should seek to build
up our inward man more than our outward estates; that our hearts be
better furnished than our houses, and our consciences than our
coffers, that our stock of faith and everlasting goodness may exceed
our store of coin and temporal goods: and so shall we be fenced
against all perils, and provided for against all wants, and secured
against all accidents whatsoever.--_Dod._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 16.
A TREASURE WITHOUT TROUBLE.
+The fear of the Lord is better than worldly treasures--+I. _Because
the fear of the Lord tends to peace of mind._ In any piece of
complicated machinery the condition of the internal works is a much
more important matter than the ornamenting of the exterior. It is of
much more consequence that all within a timepiece should move in
harmony than that it should have a golden face or be set with jewels.
It is of more importance to a man that all his internal bodily organs
should be in perfect health than that he should be possessed of much
external beauty. A strong frame, and pure blood, and health of body
will minister much more effectually to his comfort than the most
comely countenance. And the state of a man's inner life has
infinitely more to do with his real happiness than his external
circumstances. He who has the fear of the Lord has the
foundation-stone of peace within, and he who has that does not need
an abundance of that which can only minister to the outer man. A
little material wealth will content him who has the rich inheritance
of a peaceful and contented spirit. Peace with God and love to man
are included in the fear of the Lord, and neither the one nor the
other of these good and perfect gifts can be bought with the treasure
of this world. The first is the very salt of life without which all
else is insipid and insufficient to satisfy the cravings of the human
soul, and where the first is there will the second, which is also a
great sweetener of poverty--(see ver. 17), be found also.
II. _Because of the trouble that is inseparable from worldly wealth._
The treasure of this world has a certain value--it can do much for a
man, both intellectually and materially. It can be so used by him as
to bring blessings upon himself and others; but it is never
unaccompanied by drawbacks. 1. There is trouble in _getting_ it. The
bare sufficiency to sustain life may be got without much strain or
anxiety; but if a man sets out to make a fortune, he must be content
to have many cares and anxieties--many weary days and sleepless
nights--before he obtains his object. Those that _will_ be rich
cannot avoid much real trouble in carrying out their determination.
2. There is trouble _after it is gotten._ When men have accumulated
great treasure they are not freed from trouble in connection with it.
There is the care of retaining it, the desire, and almost the
necessity, of increasing it. The more a man has the more he generally
desires, and the more he seems to need. New demands are the outcome
of a new position, and he who has amassed great treasure rarely
contents himself with what he has, but strains every nerve to make
the much, _more._ 3. There is great trouble attendant on its _loss._
Even if a rich man possesses the higher wealth--the fear of the
Lord--he is more to be pitied if he loses his worldly wealth than a
poor man is. The fall is so much greater, as the height from which he
has fallen so far exceeds that from which a poor man can fall the
hope of climbing it again is so much fainter, and he is in a more
helpless and hopeless condition than his brother, who had but little
to lose. But if he is destitute of the real treasure of human
existence, then he has trouble without any compensation. He can say
with Micah, "Ye have taken away my gods and what have I left?"
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
The preposition gives choice of meanings. It may be, _by "the fear of
Jehovah,"_ in which case it would mean the "little" earned by piety;
or it may be "_in_ the fear of Jehovah;" in which case it would mean
the little held and got possession of in a devout state; or it may be
_"along with,"_ as the word often means. All the ideas are correct.
We choose as our English version, and, of course, for both parts of
the sentence; for the expression "therewith," has the same familiar
preposition, and the same chance of either of the alternative
meanings. _"Better"_ is a Christian's shieling, than an impenitent
man's palace (chap. xiv. 11). And that, not on account of heaven
alone, but for the intrinsic joys of piety (see next
verse).--_Miller._
Judas is bursar, and he shuts himself into his pouch; the more he
hath, the more he covets. The apostles, that wanted money, are not so
having: Judas hath the bag, and yet he must have more, or he will
filch it. So impossible is it that these outward things should
satisfy the heart of man. _Soli habitent omnia qui habent habentem
omnia_--They alone possess all things that possess the possessor of
all things. The nature of true content is to fill all the chinks of
our desires, as the wax doth the seal. None can do this but God, for
(as it is well observed) the world is round, man's heart
three-cornered: a globe can never fill a triangle, but one part will
still be empty; only the blessed Trinity can fill these three corners
of a man's heart. . . . The bag never comes alone, but brings with it
cares, saith Christ (Matt. xiii. 22); snares, saith Paul (1 Tim.
vi. 9). . . . It is none of God's least favours, that wealth comes
not trolling in upon us; for many of us, if our estate were better to
the world, would be worse to God. The poor labourer hath not time to
luxuriate: he trusts in God to bless his endeavours, and so rests
content; but the bag commonly makes a man a prodigal man, or a
prodigious man; for a covetous man is a monster. . . . It is no
argument of God's favour to be His purse-bearer; no more than it was
a sign that Christ loved Judas above the other apostles because he
made him His steward: He gave the rest grace, and him the bag; which
sped best? The outward things are the scatterings of His mercies,
like the gleaning after the vintage: the full crop goes to His
children.--_T. Adams._
Here also we trace the harmony of wisdom, _i.e.,_ of the Divine Word,
speaking through many different channels, and in different tones. The
proverb has its completion in the teaching which bids us "seek first
the Kingdom of God and His righteousness" (Matt. vi. 33), and finds
echoes in the maxims of the wise among other nations who have uttered
like thoughts.--_Plumptre._
It is not the great cage that makes the bird sing. It is not the
great estate that brings always the inward joy--the cordial
contentment. The little lark with a wing sees farther than the ox
with a bigger eye, but without a wing. Birds use not to sing when
they are on the ground, but when got into the air, or on tops of
trees. If saints be sad, it is because they are too busy here
below. . . . If the bramble bear rule, fire will arise out of it that
will consume the cedars; the lean kine will soon eat up the fat, and
it shall not be seen by them. It is hard to handle these thorns hard
and not to prick one's fingers. Riches, though well got, are but as
manna; those that gathered less had no want, and those that gathered
more, it was but a trouble and annoyance to them.--_Trapp._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 17.
TWO FEASTS.
+I. The equality here existing between the poor man and the rich
man--they both have a dinner.+ This is as it ought to be. God gave
the earth to the children of men, and when He enriched them with this
large donation He intended that every living creature upon the earth
should have enough to eat every day. When men lack sufficient food it
is not because there is any lack in God's gifts, either of herbs or
oxen. When both the rich man and the poor man are fed out of the
abundance of God's gifts His Divine purpose in giving them is
accomplished.
+II. The inequality between the dinner of the poor man and that of
the rich.+ The poor man is sustained upon the same kind of food as
the rich man's ox is fattened upon. In common with the beast he lives
upon the produce of the earth. The rich man eats the ox which has
been fed upon that which is the only food of the poor man. This is
not as it should be. God never intended that one part of His human
family would enjoy a monopoly of any of the food which He has
provided. When He gave the earth into the hands of the first man He
intended that all His children should be partakers of all the kinds
of food which the earth afforded, and which were suited to the part
of the world in which they lived. When it is otherwise it arises from
sin, either personal or relative. Poverty does not always spring from
indolence, or from inability to subdue the earth, and to obtain from
it a full share of all that it affords, and when it does not, the man
who is compelled to eat a dish of herbs while his neighbour feasts
from the stalled ox, is either sinned against in the present, or has
been sinned against in the past.
+III. Opposite states of mind which more than compensate the poor man
for his humbler meal.+ Hatred takes away all enjoyment from any of
God's gifts. If a rich man bears malice against the guest whom he is
entertaining at his table--if while he feeds him upon the best, he
desires for him the worst--he knows nothing of the pleasures of
hospitality. Hatred is murder in the germ, and he who harbours such a
devil within his breast cannot possess that peace of soul without
which the choicest viands cannot be enjoyed. But _love_ is a large
compensation for a dinner of herbs. Love to husband or wife, to
parent or to child, makes sweet every family meal, however homely the
fare--that charity which _"seeketh not her own, thinketh no evil,
beareth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things,"_ is a
sauce to the humblest dish which one man can set before another, and
more than lifts it above the rich man's feast given for the sake of
custom or expediency to guests to whom he has not a particle of
goodwill.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
A feast of salads, or Daniel's pulse, is more cherishing with mercy,
than Belshazzar's banquet without it.--_T. Adams._
Ruth and Naomi were happy when they lived on the gleanings of the
field of Boaz, and in the fulness of their satisfaction poured their
blessings on the head of him that allowed them the scanty
pittance. . . . The conversation of friends is far pleasanter than
any dish at the table. Where hatred is, there is silence or
sullenness, or at least hollow mirth and tasteless ceremony; but
where love and the fear of God are, the table conversation is
delightful and useful. We find even a heathen poet reflecting on the
pleasures of such an entertainment. (_O noctes cœnœque deûm!_--Hor.)
How blessed were the disciples of our Lord, when they sat at meat
with Him! Barley loaves and fishes were probably ordinary fare with
them, but they were entertained with Divine discourse. Such pleasure
as they enjoyed we cannot now expect; but His religion is admirably
fitted to promote our present happiness, for love is His great
commandment.--_Lawson._
The sentiment is applicable, with a special force of emphasis, to
_domestic life._ In proportion to the delightful sweetness of the
concord in which the fond affections of nature and grace bind the
members of a family in one happy social circle--all being of one
heart and of one soul--dividing the cares and more than doubling the
enjoyments of life by mutual participation and sympathy, all bosoms
throbbing with a common pulsation, all lips wearing a common smile,
and all eyes filled from a common fountain of tears, in proportion to
the delightful sweetness of such a scene is the wretchedness of its
reverse; and there is no one who has experienced either the sweetness
or the wretchedness--especially the former--that will not subscribe
to the sentiment so simply yet so strongly expressed.--_Wardlaw._
_"An allowance of vegetables."_ Not only _"vegetables,"_ but the
lighter sorts of them; more nearly _"herbs;"_ not only light fare,
like that, but a _limited amount;_ not only _flesh_ on the other
scale, but _"stalled"_ beef; not only _"stalled" beef,_ but no limit;
"_a stalled_ ox." Not only might this well be a worldly proverb to
represent the married state, and all the arena of human affection,
but signal when brought into religion. _"A dinner of herbs;"_ with
the blessed _"love"_ of the Redeemer, is better than a pampered feast
and the gloom of the impenitent.--_Miller._
If love be the entertainer, it matters not much what the provision
be: if true friendship be set upon the table of his heart that
inviteth thee, let that make thee to esteem well of whatsoever is set
on the table before thee. Thou comest with a gluttonous appetite--not
the affection of a friend--if thy cheer be that which thou lookest
after. Wherefore, then, though it be a dinner of herbs, yet if they
come from love's garden it is worthy of thine acceptance: thou mayest
be sure that no serpent lies hid in those herbs. If it be but so
smaller a dinner as a _traveller_ taketh with him (see Critical
Notes), yet if it bring affection with it, thou mayest be sure that
no hurt is coming to thee. But if thy dinner be a fatted ox, and
hatred be the hand that carveth it unto thee, perhaps it is but to
fat thee for the like slaughter.--_Jermin._
Mark well, it is neither said in the Bible, nor found in experience,
that they are all happy families who dine on herbs, and all unhappy
who can afford to feast on a stalled ox. Some rich families live in
love, and doubly enjoy their abundance; some poor families quarrel
over their herbs. Riches cannot secure happiness, and poverty cannot
destroy it. But such is the power of love, that with it you will be
happy in the meanest estate; without it, miserable in the highest.
Would you know the beginning, and the middle, and the end of this
matter, the spring on high, the stream flowing through the channel of
the covenant, and the fruitful outspread in a disciple's life
below--they are all here, and all one--Charity:--+"God is Love,"+
_"Love is of God,"_ "Walk in love."--_Arnot._
There were many great feasts in the times of the apostles, and yet
none of them are so much commended in the Scriptures as the meetings
of believers, who did eat together _with gladness and singleness of
heart,_ notwithstanding they had neither so much meat, nor so costly
dishes, as divers others had. It is noted of Abraham that he
entertained God and His angels to dinner. The Lord Himself would be
his guest, since he would be so good a housekeeper; and yet the
victuals which are mentioned are only butter and milk, the veal that
had not time to cool between the killing and the dressing;
notwithstanding his hospitality is preferred before the Persian
king's royal banquet, for the one purposed to show his greatness in
pomp, and the other his goodness in love. The one dealt exceeding
unkindly with his own wife and the other very courteously with them
that seemed to him to be mere strangers. They that dress most meat
are not always the kindest men, for our Saviour was full of
liberality when He gave but barley-bread and fish to His disciples,
and Nabal was but a churl, though he killed both sheep and oxen for
his sheep-shearers.--_Dod._
The subject of verse 18 has been treated in verse 1. (See Homiletics
on page 400, also on chap. xiv. 29, page 386.)
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
In the pit, the blasphemy will rise and swell, as it is stirred up
one man by his neighbour. _Upbraidings_ are contagious, even in this
world. Ordinary quarrels are wonderfully quieted, if a man waits. But
_Divine quarrels,_ if we stay to look at God, and observe His
reasonings, are wonderfully held back, and by His grace signally
prevented.--_Miller._
Observe the principles of _hatred and love,_ contrasted in active
exercise. Some persons make it their occupation to sit by the fire,
to feed and fan the flame, lest it be extinguished. A useful and
friendly employment, were it a fire to warm. But when it is an
injurious, consuming, and destructive element, it would seem
difficult to discover the motive of these incendiaries, did we not
read, that "out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders,
wickedness, an evil eye, pride, foolishness" (Mark vii. 21,
22).--_Bridges._
Surely it is a _wrathful man_ that is the lawyer's best client. He is
altogether for _scire faciam,_ I will make thee to know what thou
hast done, what thou has said; which the lawyer does but turn into a
_scire facias,_ although at last himself pay dearest for the
knowledge which is gotten. But he that is slow to anger, hath a
_Quietus est_ for any suit before it is begun. His care is rather to
buy his peace with loss, than to sell his rest for gain. He
considereth it to be true which St. Ambrose teacheth him, that to be
freed from the loss of strife is not a little gain.--_Jermin._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 19.
THE WAY OF THE SLOTHFUL AND THE RIGHTEOUS.
+I. The one thing common to these opposite characters--a "way."+ The
eagle and the snail both have a way of motion, although the one
swiftly cleaves the air, and the other drags itself slowly along the
ground. Unlike as they are in form and in habit, they are both
impelled to some kind of motion. So with the sluggard and the man who
complies willingly with God's ordinance of labour--they are both
compelled to some exercise of their bodily and mental organs, but
there is a great contrast in the way in which they exercise them as
there is between the way of the snail and the eagle.