It is simple. He says that if a man is to hold fellowship with, or to
face the judgment of, the pure and righteous God, the plainest dictate
of reason and common-sense is that he himself must be pure and
righteous to match. The details into which hid answer to the question
runs out are all very homely, prosaic, pedestrian kind of virtues,
nothing at all out of the way, nothing that people would call splendid
or heroic. Here they are:--'He that walks righteously,'--a short
injunction, easily spoken, but how hard!--'and speaketh uprightly, he
that despiseth the gain of oppression, that shaketh his hands from
holding of bribes, that stoppeth his ears from hearing of blood, that
shutteth his eyes from seeing evil.' Righteous action, righteous
speech, inward hatred of possessions gotten at my neighbour's cost, and
a vehement resistance to all the seductions of sense, shutting one's
hands, stopping one's ears, fastening one's eyes up tight so that he
may not handle, nor hear, nor see the evil--there is the outline of a
trite, everyday sort of morality which is to mark the man who, as
Isaiah says, can 'dwell amongst the everlasting fires.'
Now, if at your leisure you will turn to Psalms xv. and xxiv., you will
find there two other versions of the same questions and the same
answer, both of which were obviously in our prophet's mind when he
spoke. In the one you have the question put: 'Who shall abide in Thy
tabernacle?' In the other you have the same question put: 'Who shall
ascend into the hill of the Lord?' And both these two psalms answer the
question and sketch the outline (and it is only an outline) of a
righteous man, from the Old Testament point of view, substantially in
the same fashion that Isaiah does here.
I do not need to remark upon the altogether unscientific and
non-exhaustive nature of the description of righteousness that is set
forth here. There are a great many virtues, plain and obvious, that are
left out of the picture. But I ask you to notice one very special
defect, as it might seem. There is not the slightest reference to
anything that we call religion. It is all purely pedestrian, worldly
morality; do righteous things; do not tell lies; do not cheat your
neighbour; stop your ears if people say foul things in your hearing;
shut your eyes if evil comes before you. These are the kind of duties
enjoined, and these only. The answer of my text moves altogether on the
surface, dealing only with conduct, not with character, and dealing
with conduct only in reference to this world. There is not a word about
the inner nature, not a word about the inner relation of a man to God.
It is the minimum of possible qualifications for dwelling with God.
Well, now, do you achieve that minimum? Suppose we waive for the moment
all reference to God; suppose we waive for the moment all reference to
motive and inward nature; suppose we keep ourselves only on the outside
of things, and ask what sort of _conduct_ a man must have that is able
to walk with God? We have heard the answer.
Now, then, is that _me_? Is this sketch here, admittedly imperfect, a
mere black-and-white swift outline, not intended to be shaded or
coloured, or brought up to the round; is this mere outline of what a
good man ought to be, at all like me? Yes or no? I think we must all
say No to the question, and acknowledge our failure to attain to this
homely ideal of conduct. The requirement pared down to its lowest
possible degree, and kept as superficial as ever you can keep it, is
still miles above me, and all I have to say when I listen to such words
is, 'God be merciful to me a sinner.'
My dear friends, take this one thought away with you:--the requirements
of the most moderate conscience are such as no man among us is able to
comply with. And what then? Am I to be shut up to despair? am I to say:
Then nobody can dwell within that bright flame? Am I to say: Then when
God meets man, man must crumble away into nothing and disappear? Am I
to say, for myself: Then, alas for me! when I stand at His judgment bar?