The great principle of self-preservation implanted in our nature which puts us on our guard against the slightest inconvenience, and maketh us arm for the repelling of a single evil, fails to engage men in the pursuit of that which would powerfully protect us in the most difficult circumstances, and universally secure us against all manner of hazards. Piety alone is that armour of proof which renders those that wear it safe and invulnerable, and yet, as if the Christian were the only infidel, how few of us are so thoroughly convinced of this great truth as to pursue it with an eagerness proportionate to its value. The text assures us—That a religious life and conversation is the best security against all manner of evils. All evil to which we can be liable, may be reduced under three heads. I. Such as are inflicted immediately by God. Here it is necessary to distinguish between such afflictions as He vouchsafeth in mercy and those with which He visiteth in judgment. The best of men are not exempted from the former, they are not always so intent upon their duty, but that they stand in need of a remembrancer, or it pleaseth God to afflict them for the trial of their faith, for the exercise of their patience, and to wean them from the world. But these are but like the more difficult talks of a discreet and loving tutor; which recommend the pupils to a higher applause and a more excellent advantage, and are, therefore, so far from doing them any harm that they ought to be looked upon as most valuable blessings. Those inflictions therefore of God, which may be justly entitled to the name of evils, are such only as He visiteth in judgment, and from such nothing can more effectually secure us than a godly life and conversation. II. Such as are occasioned by ourselves. Many evils are the effect of sin and carelessness, and as it is the work and office of true piety to make us at the same time holy and considerate, it will evidently appear that none of these evils shall happen to the just. III. Such as are brought upon us by the malice of men or devils. These are only tolerated by God’s connivance and permission. The devil, furious and malicious as he is, always drags his chain after him, by which he may be drawn back to his infernal dungeon, and therefore, unless He hath some such favourable ends, as I formerly instanced in His own inflictions, He will certainly keep His own out of their ravenous jaws. Shall we then neglect the only means by which we may be defended against such numerous calamities? To be just is no more than to follow after the thing that is good, and good is desirable in its own nature; we have such an inward tendency towards it that nothing which is ill can debauch our affections, but by taking upon itself the appearance of being good. If, then, a seeming good doth so allure us, how ought we to be enamoured of the real substances.—Nicholas Brady.
The wicked are hurt, wounded, or grieved, by every occurrence, and nothing turns to their profit.—A. Clarke.
main homiletics of verse 23.
The Concealment of Knowledge and the Proclamation of Foolishness.
I. The concealment of knowledge is always a mark of self-control. It proves that a man has himself “well in hand.” He is like a skilful workman whose tools are all arranged in order, so that he can select or reject them according to his need, or the need of others. Or he resembles a skilful rider who is thoroughly master of his steed, and can either arrest his course or urge him to put forth all his speed at any moment. If a man does not possess this power over himself he can never be a king among men, and even the possession of knowledge will not prove very serviceable either to himself or others. All the treasures of his mind ought to be under the lock and key of his will, and his will under that of his conscience, for,
II. Under some circumstances the concealment of knowledge is a mark of prudence. 1. It is so when to proclaim it would feed personal vanity. To reveal our knowledge from no other motive than to let others know that we know is to sin against ourselves by ministering to our pride. In such a case to conceal our knowledge is a means of grace to a man’s own soul, and will carry with it the approbation of conscience. 2. It is also prudent to conceal knowledge when we know that it would not benefit others. It is not always seasonable to reveal even the most precious knowledge that we possess. Men are sometimes manifestly unprepared for its reception—unable to appreciate it. God concealed the gospel of salvation from the men of the early ages of the world because the “fulness of time” (Gal. iv. 4) had not come, by which we understand that the world then was not in a condition to profit by a revelation of it. Our Lord charged His disciples not to disclose what they had witnessed on the mount of transfiguration until “the Son of Man should be risen again from the dead” (Matt. xvii. 9). He exhorts them also not to “cast pearls before swine” (Matt. vii. 6). Hence we learn that concealment of knowledge is sometimes to be preferred to a revelation of it, and that a due regard must be had to the mental and moral condition of those to whom we would impart it. The revelation of scientific truth would only bewilder people of little education and small capacity, and the revelation of even moral truth would sometimes increase men’s guilt. It would only lead them to blaspheme the God of Truth and scoff at His messengers, and thus harden them instead of enlightening them. And even when this is not the case men cannot always receive all kinds of moral truth. A parent conceals from his son when he is a boy the knowledge of things which he will reveal to him when he is a man. A wise teacher does not at once disclose to his pupil all that he desires him to learn. Both bring prudence into exercise, and give “line upon line, here a little and there a little” (Isa. xxviii. 10), following the example of the Great Father and Teacher in His dealings with His ancient people, and that of the Incarnate Son when He said to His disciples, “I have many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now” (John xvi. 12). All who are possessors of knowledge should always remember to bring prudence into exercise in proclaiming it, whether it be Divine or human truth that they have to reveal.
III. The man who tells out all he knows without any regard to the fitness of time and circumstances proclaims only his foolishness. He is as much a proclaimer of his own folly as he who should sow seed on the high road instead of in ploughed ground. He may be very injurious to others. If a teacher of the young were to tell out all he knows about men and things to those under his care he might inflict on their spiritual nature a life-long injury. Indiscreet parents who utter all their mind and tell out all their experience in the hearing of their children not only “proclaim their foolishness,” but are a curse to their family. They are like an unskilful surgeon who takes the first instrument that comes to hand, regardless of its fitness for the needs of the patient. They are like men upon a fiery steed without power to guide him—they not only put themselves in jeopardy but endanger the well-being of others.
outlines and suggestive comments.
Not that he grudges to impart his knowledge to others, but he does not obtrude it or make a display of it, nor babble out all that he knows, in order that he may be counted wise. . . . The fool, trying to make a display of knowledge, only betrays foolishness. Fools, wise in their own esteem, babble out everything at random; not wisdom, which they have not, but foolishness, which they have. Proclaiming foolishness is attributed to a fool’s heart, not to his mouth, for a fool’s heart is in his mouth. He has no sense within. On the contrary, “The mouth of the wise is in their heart” (Ecclus. xxi. 26).—Fausset.
The Apostle concealed his knowledge for fourteen years, and even then mentioned it reluctantly, to vindicate his own rightful claims of apostleship (2 Cor. xii. 1–6). Elihu, though “full of matter,” and longing to give vent, yet prudently concealed his knowledge, till his elders had opened his way (Job xxxii. 6, 18, 19). Circumstances may sometimes prudently dictate concealment. Abraham spared the feelings of his family, and cleared his own path, by hiding the dreadful message of his God (Gen. xxii. 1–7). Joseph concealed his kindred for the discipline of his brethren (Gen. xlii. 7). Esther, from a prudent regard of consequences to herself (Esth. ii. 10). Nothing can justify speaking contrary to the truth. But we are not always obliged to tell the whole truth. Jeremiah answered all that he was bound to speak; not all that he might have spoken (Jer. xxxviii. 24). In all these cases “the wise man’s heart will discern both time and judgment” (Eccles. viii. 5; xv. 2). . . . The fool is dogmatical in dispute, when wiser men are cautious. He is teaching, when he ought to take the learner’s place; his self-confidence proclaiming his emptiness (1 Tim. vi. 3, 4).—Bridges.