By REV. WM. ARNOT, D.D.
“All the ways of a man are clean in his own eyes; but the
Lord weigheth the spirits. Commit thy works unto the Lord,
and thy thoughts shall be established.”
The first of these two verses tells how a man goes wrong, and the
second how he may be set right again. He is led into error by doing
what pleases himself; the rule for recovery is to commit the works to
the Lord, and see that they are such as will please him. If we weigh
our thoughts and actions in the balances of our own desires, we shall
inevitably go astray; if we lay them before God, and submit to his
pleasure, we shall be guided into truth and righteousness.
Such is the purport of the two verses in general; attend now to the
particulars in detail: “All the ways of a man are clean in his own
eyes.” To a superficial observer this declaration may seem inconsistent
with experience; but he who wrote these words has fathomed fully the
deep things of a human spirit. As a general rule, men do the things
which they think right, and think the things right which themselves do.
Not many men do what they think evil, and while they think it evil.
The acts may be obviously evil, but the actor persuades himself of the
contrary, at least until they are done. There is an amazing power of
self-deception in a human heart. It is deceitful above all things. It
is beyond conception cunning in making that appear right which is felt
pleasant. Some, we confess, are so hardened, that they sin in the face
of conscience, and over its neck; but for one bold, bad man, who treads
on an awakened conscience in order to reach the gratification of his
lust, there are ten cowards who drug the watcher into slumber, that
they may sin in peace. As a general rule, it may be safely said, if you
did not think the act innocent, you would not do it; but when you have
a strong inclination to do it, you soon find means to persuade yourself
that it is innocent. After all, the real motive power that keeps the
wheels of human life going round is this:—Men like the things that
they do, and do the things that they like. In his own eyes a man’s ways
are clean: if he saw them filthy, he would not walk in them. But when
he desires to walk in a particular way, he soon begins to count it
clean, in order that he may peacefully walk in it.
In his _own eyes_: Mark the meaning of these words. Be not deceived;
God is not mocked. Eyes other than his own are witnessing all the
life-course of a man. The eyes of the Lord are in every place. He does
not adopt our inclination as the standard of right and wrong, and he
will not borrow our balances to determine his own judgment in that day.
“The Lord weigheth the spirits.” Not a thought, not a motive, trembles
in the breast which he does not weigh; more evidently, though not more
surely, are the gross and palpable deeds of our life open before him!
He has a balance nice enough to weigh motives—the animating soul of our
actions; our actions themselves will not escape his scrutiny.
Before we proceed to any “work” we should weigh it, while yet it is a
“spirit” unembodied, in the balances which will be used in the judgment
of the great day. Letters are charged in the postoffice according to
their weight. I have written and sealed a letter consisting of several
sheets; I desire that it should pass; I think that it will; but I
know well that it will not be allowed to pass because I desire that
it should, or think that it will; I know well it will be tested by
imperial weights and imperial laws. Before I plunge it beyond my reach,
under the control of the public authorities, I place it on a balance
which stands on the desk before me—a balance not constructed to please
my desires, but honestly adjusted to the legal standard. I weigh it
there, and check it myself by the very rules which the government will
apply. The children of this world are wise for their own interests. We
do not shut our eyes, and cheat ourselves as to temporal things and
human governments; why should we attempt to deceive where detection
is certain and retribution complete? On the table before you lies the
very balance in which the Ruler of heaven and earth will weigh both the
body of the act and the motive, the soul that inspires it. Weigh your
purposes in this balance before you launch them forth in action. The
man’s ways are unclean, although, through a deceitful heart, they are
clean in his own eyes; by what means, therefore, “shall a young man
cleanse his way? By taking heed thereto according to thy word” (Ps.
cxix:9).
A most interesting practical rule is laid down as applicable to the
case—“Commit thy works unto the Lord;” and a promise follows it—“Thy
thoughts shall be established.” It is a common and a sound advice,
to ask counsel of the Lord before undertaking any work. Here we have
the counterpart lesson equally precious—commit the work to the Lord,
after it is done. The Hebrew idiom gives peculiar emphasis to the
precept—Roll it over on Jehovah. Mark the beautiful reciprocity of the
two, and how they constitute a circle between them. While the act is
yet in embryo as a purpose in your mind, ask counsel of the Lord, that
it may either be crushed in the birth or embodied in righteousness.
When it is embodied, bring the work back to the Lord, and give it
over into his hands as the fruit of the thought which you besought
him to inspire; give it over into his hands as an offering which he
may accept, an instrument which he may employ. Bring the work, when
it is done, to the Lord; and what will follow?—“Thy thoughts shall be
established.” Bring back the actions of your life to God, one by one,
after they are done, and thereby the purposes of your heart will be
made pure and steadfast; the evil will be chased away like smoke before
the wind, and the good will be executed in spite of all opposition; for
“when a man’s ways please the Lord, he maketh even his enemies to be at
peace with him.”
A boy, while his stock of experience is yet small, is employed by his
father to lend assistance in certain mechanical operations. Pleased to
think himself useful, he bounds into the work with heart and hand; but
during the process, he has many errands to his father. At the first he
runs to ask his father how he ought to begin; and when he has done a
little, he carries the work to his father, fondly expecting approval,
and asking further instructions. Oh, when will the children of God in
the regeneration experience and manifest the same spirit of adoption
which animates dear children as an instinct of nature toward fathers of
their flesh! These two rules, following each other in a circle, would
make the outspread field of a Christian’s life sunny, and green, and
fruitful, as the arching of the solid system brightens and fertilizes
the earth.
Perhaps this latter hemisphere of duty’s revolving circle is the more
difficult of the two. Perhaps most professing Christians find it
easier to go to God beforehand, asking what they should do, than to
return to him afterward to place their work in his hands. This may in
part account for the want of answer to prayer,—at least the want of a
knowledge that prayer has been answered. If you do not complete the
circle, your message by telegraph will never reach its destination,
and no answer will return. We send in earnest prayer for direction,
and thereafter go into the world of action; but if we do not bring the
action back to God, the circle of the supplication is not completed.
The prayer does not reach the throne; the message acknowledging it
comes not back to the suppliant’s heart. To bring all the works to the
Lord would be in the character of a dear child: it would please the
Father. A young man came to his father, and received instructions as to
his employment for the day. “Go work in my vineyard,” was the parent’s
command. “I go, sir,” was the ready answer of the son. Thus far, all
was well; but the deed that followed was disobedience. The son went not
to work in the father’s vineyard; but we do not learn that he came back
in the evening to tell his father what he had done. To have done so
would either have kept him right, or corrected him for doing wrong.
But some of the works are evil, and how could you dare to roll these
over on the Lord? Ah! there lies the power of this practical rule. If
it were our fixed and unvarying practice to bring all our works and lay
them into God’s hands, we would not dare to do any except those that
he would smile upon. But others, though not positively evil, may be
of trifling importance, and the doer may decline to bring them to the
King, not because they are impure, but because they are insignificant.
The spirit of bondage betrays itself here, and not the spirit of
adoption. They are small; they are affairs of children; trouble not
the Master. Ah! this adviser is of the earth, earthy: he knows not the
Master’s mind. The Master himself has spoken to the point: “Suffer the
little children to come unto me, and forbid them not.” Be assured,
little children, whether in the natural family of man or the spiritual
family of God, act in character. There is no hypocrisy about them. The
things they bring are little things. Children speak as children, yet he
does not beckon them away: he rebukes those who would. He welcomes and
blesses the little ones. Nay, more; he tells us plainly that we must
be like them ere we enter his kingdom. Like little children without
hypocrisy bring all your affairs to him, and abandon those that he
would grieve to look upon. Bring to him all the works that you do, and
you will not do any that you could not bring to him.
“When a man’s ways please the Lord, he maketh even his enemies to be at
peace with him” (ver. 7). There is, it seems, such a thing as pleasing
God. If it could not exist on earth, it would not be named from heaven.
Even to try this is a most valuable exercise. There would be more
sunlight in a believer’s life if he could leave the dull negative fear
of judgment far behind as a motive of action, and bound forward into
the glad positive, a hopeful effort to please God. “Without faith it
is impossible to please him” (Heb. xi: 6); therefore with faith it is
possible. “They that are in the flesh cannot please God;” therefore
they that are in the Spirit can. In this aspect of a believer’s course,
as in all others, Jesus has left us an example that we should follow
his steps: “I do always those things that please him” (John viii: 29).
The glad obedience of the saved should not be thought inconsistent with
the simple trust of the sinful. A true disciple is zealous of good
works; it is a spurious faith that is jealous of them. Those who, being
justified by faith, are most deeply conscious that their works are
worthless, strive most earnestly to do worthy works.
This, like that which enjoins obedience to parents, is a commandment
“with promise.” When your ways please God, he will make even your
enemies to be at peace with you. This is one of two principles
that stand together in the word, and act together in the divine
administration; its counterpart and complement is, “If any man will
live godly in Christ Jesus, he must suffer persecution.” They seem
opposite, yet, like night and day, summer and winter, they both proceed
from the same God, and work together for good to his people. It is true
that the mighty of the earth are overawed by goodness; and it is also
true that likeness to the Lord exposes the disciple to the persecution
which his Master endured. Both are best: neither could be wanted. If
the principle that goodness exposes to persecution prevailed everywhere
and always, the spirit would fail before him and the souls which he has
made. Again, if the principle that goodness conciliates the favor of
the world prevailed every where and always, discipline would be done,
and the service of God would degenerate into mercenary self-interest.
If the good received only and always persecution for their goodness,
their life could not endure, and the generation of the righteous would
become extinct: if the good received only and always favor from men,
their spiritual life would be overlaid, and choked in the thick folds
of worldly prosperity. A beautiful balance of opposites is employed
to produce one grand result. It is like the balance of antagonist
forces, which keeps the planets in their places, and maintains the
harmony of the universe. Temporal prosperity and temporal distress, the
world’s friendship and its enmity, are both formidable to the children
of God. Our Father in heaven, guarding against the danger on either
side, employs the two reciprocally to hold each other in check. Human
applause on this side is a dangerous enemy, and it is made harmless by
the measure of persecution which the godly must endure: on the other
side, the enmity of a whole world is a weight under which the strongest
would at last succumb; but it is made harmless by the opposite law,—the
law by which true goodness conciliates favor even in an evil world.
A Christian in the world is like a human body in the sea,—there is a
tendency to sink and a tendency to swim. A very small force in either
direction will turn the scale. Our Father in heaven holds the elements
of nature and the passions of men at his own disposal: his children
need not fear, for he keeps the balance in his own hands.
[_March 11._]