JEHORAM.

Jehoram undertakes an expedition against King Mesha, but in doing so he pays a tribute to the power of the king of Moab by allying with himself Jehoshaphat, king of Judah, and also the king of Edom. A remarkable character is given of Jehoram. He was not an imitator of the evil of his father as to its precise form, but he had his own method of serving the devil.

We should have thought that Ahab and Jezebel had exhausted all the arts of wickedness, but it turns out that Jehoram had found a way of his own of living an evil life.

Warned by the untimely fate of his brother, which had fallen upon him expressly on account of his Baal worship, Jehoram began his reign by an ostentatious abolition of the Phenician state religion, which his father had introduced.

Jehoram went back to the olden times, and re-established the worship of the calf, after the pattern which Jeroboam, its founder, had patronized. His doing so, however, he found to be quite compatible with a secret allowance that the people should practice their own form of worship.

There is room in wickedness for the exercise of genius of a certain limited kind. The limitation is imposed by wickedness itself—for, after all, wickedness is made up of but few elements.

Many persons suppose that if they do not sin according to the prevailing fashion they are not sinning at all. They imagine that by varying the form of the evil they have mitigated the evil itself.

A good deal of virtue is supposed to consist in reprobating certain forms of vice. A man may be no drunkard, according to the usual acceptation of the term, and yet he may be in a continual state of intoxication. It is possible to shudder at what is usually known as persecution, and yet all the while to be beheading enemies and burning martyrs.

Jehoram made a kind of trick of wickedness. He knew how to give a twist to old forms, or a turn to old ways, so as to escape part of their vulgarity and yet to retain all their iniquity.

A most alarming thought it is to the really spiritual mind that men may become adepts in wickedness—experts in evil doing—and may be able so to manage their corrupt designs as to deceive many observers by a mere change of surface or appearance.

We do not amend the idolatry by altering the shape of the altar. We do not destroy the mischievous power of unbelief by throwing our skepticism into metaphysical phrases, and thus making verbal mysteries where we might have spiritual illumination. We are deceived by things simply because we ourselves live a superficial life and read only the history of appearances.

What is the cure for all this manipulation of evil, this changing of complexion and of form, and this consequent imagining that the age is improving because certain phenomena which used to be so patent are no longer discernible on the face of things?

We come back to the sublime doctrine of regeneration, as the answer to the great inquiry: “What is the cure for this heart disease?”

“Marvel not that I said unto thee: ‘Ye must be born again.’”

We may change either the language or the manners of wickedness, or the times and seasons for doing wicked things, and we may decorate our wickedness with many beautiful colors, but so long as the heart itself is unchanged decoration is useless—yea, worse than useless; for it is a vain attempt to make that look true which is false—an endeavor even to deceive Omniscience itself.

“And Mesha, king of Moab, was a sheepmaster, and rendered unto the king of Israel an hundred thousand lambs and an hundred thousand rams, with the wool. But it came to pass, when Ahab was dead, that the king of Moab rebelled against the king of Israel.”

Enduring masteries are not of a physical kind. Ahab held Mesha simply by a strong arm, and the consequence was that, as soon as Ahab was dead, Mesha refused to render the tribute.

This historical circumstance, limited so far as the mere letter is concerned, is full of significance to the Christian Church and to all Christian countries.

Let us not call ourselves masters of positions or of men, simply because we happen to have the stronger arm. The dominion which is acquired by mere strength and held by superior force is an illusion wherever it is found.

The men whom we may so hold may be hypocrites enough to assume an acquiescent attitude, or even to display a complacent demeanor; they may even go so far as to appear to be grateful for the rule which they can not set aside. But all such appearances are of necessity without reason, and therefore without continuance. They are always to be suspected.

This would be so in the case of the Christian faith, had we the power of imposing even its nominal belief upon any nation. Suppose we say that any man not professing the Christian faith shall certainly be fined, imprisoned or otherwise punished. It is easy to see that such a threat might in many instances bring about an appearance of acquiescence. But it must be, by the very necessity of the case, appearance only.

Faith is a question of the individual judgment and of the individual heart, and can not be controlled in any degree by external authority.

Suppose we create a law making it penal to open places of business on the Sabbath day. Looking upon all commercial houses whose business was suspended for a particular time, we might say: “See how unanimously and happily the Sabbath day is observed in this country!”

But such would be an altogether superficial and mistaken judgment. The Sabbath day can not be kept by law. If the Sabbath is not kept by the reason, and is not hailed with thankful delight by the very heart, it can never be kept at all.

All shops may be closed, all places of amusement may suspend their entertainments, all toys may be put away from the nursery, all out-door enjoyments and avocations may be withdrawn for the time, but the people who have retired in apparent acceptance of these conditions, but not in heartfelt acquiescence with them, are breaking the Sabbath every moment they breathe.

Here is a great law for the house, the church and the nation. The head of the family who rules by mere dread or tyranny is not training an obedient household, but he is preparing an outburst of sedition, which sooner or later must transpire, and when it occurs his ruin is certain.

The same law applies in the matter of capital and labor. The man who only works that he may receive his wages never truly serves or makes his labor into a delight. The man who can threaten the laborer by withdrawment of pecuniary recognition never elicits from that laborer a response to duty, though he may insist on a formal compliance with law.

What a blessed mastery is that of Jesus Christ in this respect.

For Christ reasons with men, and addresses the very highest form and quality of mind; He sets before men the alternative courses of life, and beseeches them to accept the straight and narrow way leading to repentance. Certainly he threatens, He denounces, He declares an awful issue for the wicked man, but it is not mere threatening or mere denunciation; it is the solemn disclosure of a sequence which even Almighty God could not suspend and yet retain the integrity of His throne and the security of the universe. We must never accuse Jesus Christ of what is termed “threatening.” His denunciations are revelations, and not the expressions of merely angry feelings.

The way of the approach having been settled, the kings proceeded to fetch a compass of seven days’ journey around by the south end of the Dead Sea. They little knew the difficulty that would arise in their way. We do not read that they made any religious inquiry at the outset of their journey, and therefore no responsibility could be charged upon God for the misadventure which occurred. The three kings seem to have consulted only with themselves, and to have resolved in their own counsel and strength upon their expedition against Mesha.

What was the misadventure which occurred? It is related: “And there was no water for the host and for the cattle that followed them.”

Even kings are dependent upon nature. Think of three kings, who supposed themselves at least to be very mighty, and all their people, stopped in their career simply for want of water!

A very pitiable and yet very instructive picture is this of three kings and their armies standing still merely for want of water. The so-called little things of life are often turned into not only things that are great, but into things that are vital.

Blessed indeed would be the man who sees even in natural arrangements and daily providences a call to him to lift up his head toward the heavens and ask great questions about being and duty and destiny.

So we have the usual religious appeal: “Is there not here a prophet of the Lord, that we may inquire of the Lord by him?”

Elisha now assumes a new attitude, and one certainly not destitute of spiritual grandeur. Turning to the king of Israel, he said:

“‘What have I to do with thee? Get thee to the prophets of thy father, and to the prophets of thy mother.’ And the king of Israel said unto him: ‘Nay; for the Lord hath called these three kings together, to deliver them into the hand of Moab.’”

Observe that this address was made to the very king of Israel. It simply means that the God of Israel had nothing to do with the king of Israel, and yet Israel was understood to be a theocracy. The form was theocratic, but not the power.

Think of a man bearing the name of God, and yet being godless! A temple deserted of its deity is surely a melancholy sight, but what shall be said of the man from whose heart the Spirit of the living God has utterly departed?

Elisha seems to have inherited the taunting spirit of his great predecessor: “Get thee to the prophets of thy father, and to the prophets of thy mother.”

Who can say with how bitter a taunt the word “mother” was pronounced in this connection?

The evil that men do goes on for many a day—not only to the end of their life-time, but it lives after them.

This is a taunt that is founded on reason. If men have been serving a god for seven years past, surely it can not be unreasonable to refer them to that god in the time of their extremity. What is faith if it can not be tested? What is the value of an altar if you can not go to it and find lying upon it direct answers to your prayer?

Is there any thing meaner in all the history of cowardice than that a man should ignore the living God all his life, and then whiningly repent upon his death-bed? Why does he not go to the trusts to which he has committed himself, and say he will die in them as he has lived in them? Surely, the cowardice of men should teach those who observe it something regarding the nature and uses of religious faith.

The appeal of Elisha was perfectly fair.

If the gods of Jehoram were worth any thing, they could find water for him in the time of his necessity. Let them do it. If they will do it, then they will establish their claim to be regarded with reverence, and indeed be honored and worshiped.

We must insist upon making the same appeal in our own day. Men must be made to feel their irreligion.

Jehoram did feel his in this instance, for he protested against the decision of Elisha. Throughout the course of Scripture men are referred to their gods, and are made to test the value of their religion.

Possibly many a Jehoram may be acting under influences which he himself can not explain—so much that he becomes a puzzle to his own mind, wondering how it is that he takes one road when he has decided upon another, and that he mistakes substances for shadows and shadows for substances, so that his whole life is turned into a mocking bewilderment.

The answer is given in Scripture: “I also will choose their delusions, and will bring their fears upon them; because when I called, none did answer; when I spake, they did not hear; but they did evil before Mine eyes, and chose that in which I delighted not.”

Now we come to a better phase of this history—namely, to the saving element—which appears and reappears in the course of our changeful life.

Elisha was not to be placated by the king of Israel. In his eyes a vile person was contemned. The king of Israel was but a poor, frail thing in the presence of a man who lived with God and was commissioned to denounce the judgments of Heaven against evil. But the world is not made up of Jehorams. Blessed be God, there are men of another type, whose very presence saves society from judicial ruin.

“And Elisha said: ‘As the Lord of Hosts liveth, before whom I stand, surely, were it not that I regard the presence of Jehoshaphat, the king of Judah, I would not look toward thee, nor see thee.’”

Now we know that the spirit of Elijah rested upon Elisha. We seem to hear the very tones of the old master in the new disciple. Is it not always so in life—that it is one man who saves many; that the ten righteous men save the city, and that Paul saves all those who sail with him in the midst of the tempestuous sea?

Your house is saved because of your little child. Your whole estate is protected from ruin because your wife is a praying woman. Your life would be cut off tomorrow in shame and disgrace were it not that you have entered upon an inheritance of prayers laid up for you by those who went before.

Life thus becomes very sacred and very tender, and we know not to whom we are under the deepest obligations. Enough to know that, somewhere, there is a presence that saves us, there is an influence that guards our life, and that we owe absolutely nothing in the way of security or honor to bad kings or bad men of any name.

The remainder of the chapter is occupied with a prophecy of Elisha and by a statement of the overthrow of the king of Moab.

Nothing now could save Mesha. A strong delusion was sent upon him to believe a lie. When water came down by way of Edom, and the whole country was filled with it, the Moabites rose up early in the morning, and as the Sun shone on the water the Moabites saw the water on the other side as red as blood.

It looked so like blood that they declared it to be blood; and, believing that the kings were slain who had come up against them, the Moabites advanced to the spoil. Alas, they advanced to their ruin.

The king of Moab saw that the battle was too sore for him. In his despair he took with him seven hundred men that drew swords, to break through even unto the king of Edom, but through the iron wall he could not force his way. In his madness he took his eldest son, who should have reigned in his stead, and flung him for a burnt offering upon the wall.

But the Lord will not be pleased with thousands of rams or with ten thousand rivers of oil, nor will He accept the first-born for a man’s transgression or the fruit of his body for the sin of his soul.