What a world of sound theology lies in the deliverance of this verse—telling us much how the rewards and punishments of the Divine administration lie in the subjective state, apart from the objective circumstances.—Chalmers.
Good men know within themselves that they have in heaven a better and more enduring substance (Heb. x. 34); within themselves, they know it not in others, not in books, but in their own experience and apprehension. They can feelingly say that “in doing God's will”—not only for doing it, or after it was now done, but even while they were doing it—“there was great reward” (Psa. xix. 11). Righteousness is never without a double joy to be its strength: “Joy in hand and in hope, in present possession and in certain reversion” (Bernard).—Trapp.
All engineering proceeds upon the principle of reaching great heights or depths by almost imperceptible inclines. The adversary of men works by this will. When you see a man who was once counted a Christian standing shameless on a mountain-top of impiety, or lying in the miry pit of vice, you may safely assume that he has long been worming his way in secret on the spiral slimy track by which the old serpent marks and smooths the way to death. . . . Whatever the enormity it may end in, backsliding begins in the heart. . . . There is a weighing beam exposed to public view, with one scale loaded and resting on the ground, while the other dangles high and empty in the air. Everybody is familiar with the object, and its aspect. One day curiosity is arrested by observing the low and loaded beam is swinging aloft, while the side which hung empty and light has sunk to the ground. Speculation is set on edge by the phenomenon, and at rest again by the discovery of its cause. For many days certain diminutive but busy insects had, for some object of their own, been transferring the material from the full to the empty scale. Day by day the sides approached an equilibrium, but no change took place in their position. At last a grain more removed from one side and laid in the other reversed the preponderance, and produced the change. There is a similar balancing of good and evil in the human heart. The sudden outward change proceeds from a gradual inward preparation.—Arnot.
Every man, both good and bad, shall feel himself sufficiently recompensed for his service.—Dod.
“A good man shall be satisfied from himself.” I. He can bear his own company, his own thoughts. What is it that makes solitude so irksome to mankind? They cannot bear reflection. . . . Generally, we know, all is not right. Men do not like to look steadily at themselves, because, like the bankrupt tradesman who dreads striking a balance, they have a secret suspicion that their lives will not bear a rigid scrutiny. . . . The good man does not fear to probe his wound to the bottom. II. He is independent, as other men are not, of earthly vicissitudes. Men who have their portion here are never safe. The world is a disappointing world, but the good man’s eyes are opened to the glories of a better. . . . It is a doomed world, but his treasure is safe. . . . Let other men be suddenly driven from the pleasures, occupations, and companions with which habit has made them familiar, and they are like shipwrecked voyagers whose wealth has all gone down in the vessel in which they sailed. He is like a man who has escaped to shore with a casket of jewels in which his whole fortune is invested. III. He stands for judgment, not at the world’s bar, but at the tribunal of his own conscience. “It is a small thing,” said St. Paul, “that I should be judged of you, or of man’s judgment.” Was he, then, a morose man who cared nothing about his neighbours? No, but his conscience was ruled by God’s law, and in the very act of submitting himself to Christ as the Lord of his life and soul, he became comparatively independent of all besides.—J. H. Gurney.
main homiletics of the paragraph.—Verses 15–18.
Revelations of Character.
I. Four marks of a foolish man. When a piece of ground is left to itself—left in the hand of nature alone, without the intervention of the hand of man—there will be a variety in its productions, but there will be no wheat—no grain to give seed to the sower and bread to the eater. When human nature is left to itself there will of necessity be a variety in its productions, but, however unlike they may be in many respects, they are all alike in this, that they are equally unprofitable to God and injurious to man. We have here—1. The man who believes too much in others. “The simple believeth every word.” It is possible to have too much faith. The blessedness of having it in abundance depends entirely upon the foundation upon which it rests—upon the object in which a man trusts—in the person in whom he believes. Those who have faith in the words of men and women of worthless character—like the young man of chap. vii. 7—will find their ruin will be in proportion to the confidence. We stigmatise as a fool the man who shows his purse to any wayfarer whom he meets upon the high road; we know that his fellow-traveller may be only seeking a fitting time and place to rob him. In this world of fallen men and women we must withhold our faith until we have some knowledge. There are many now in the world whose foolish credulity has led to the other extreme of universal scepticism. From believing everybody and everything they have come to believe nothing, and to brand “all men” as “liars.” He who begins by being a “simple one,” and believeth every word, will most likely end in being a disbeliever and a scoffer. We are not required to believe in God without ground for our belief. He does not demand from us an unreasoning credulity, but an intelligent faith. 2. The man who believes too much in himself. He “rages,” or is presumptuous, and is “confident.” As the foolishness of the first man took the form of over-confidence in others, so this man shows his want of wisdom by undue confidence in himself. (On this character see Homiletics on chap. [xii. 15], page 271.) 3. The man who is easily offended. Such a man reveals his folly by the insignificance of the matters which generally arouse his passion. The man who is “soon angry” is generally more angry about trifles than about things of importance. A parent who is easily vexed by his children’s transgressions is generally more severe in punishing those that really least deserve punishment. Such a person does not take into account the amount of moral wrong done, but the amount of immediate and personal inconvenience which he suffers. For if a man is “soon angry” he has no time to put things in their right light—to weigh the offence in the balance of right and of reason. The man who is soon angry shows that his mind is not filled with high and noble aspirations; if it were, there would be no room for vexation at small offences. God is “slow to anger,” because only things worthy of His notice can arouse it—because He is filled with high and holy purposes of good towards the human race. (See also on chap. [xii. 16], page 272.) 4. The man who, by wicked plots against his fellow-men, incurs their hatred. This man possesses more mental activity than the others. But he uses it against himself, because he uses it against his fellow-men. “He is of wicked devices,” and “is hated.” A man cannot devise plans of evil any more than of good without mental labour. Probably Satan is the most active creature in the universe. He is ever “going to and fro in the earth, and walking up and down in it.” And many of his human children imitate him in this respect. This man has not the simplicity of him who “believeth every word,” nor of him who haughtily rejects the counsel of others, nor of him who allows his feelings to carry him away. He sets about his plans with cool deliberateness, but he is a fool for all that. He is a fool, because, as we have seen over and over again, his plans of wickedness will not only fail, but will overthrow himself (see chap. [xii. 3], [5 and 7]). But the special element of foolishness in the man of wicked devices which is here noted is that his way of life is sure to bring him the hatred of his fellow-creatures. No man can afford to set at nought the good-will of his fellow-men. To be an object of universal execration is only the lot of a man who lives to injure others, and it is a very poor investment of life to put it to a use which will only bring such interest.
II. The marks of a wise man. 1. He walks through life with caution. To say that a man “looketh well to his going” is only saying that he acts like a rational and responsible creature. Even the animals, in obedience to the instinct of self-preservation, look to their goings, and avoid many dangers which beset them. The smaller birds, though apparently flying about without any care, have a quick eye for the hawk soaring above them, or for the cat crouching beneath. All creatures, whether brutes or men, instinctively look to their goings so far as regards their bodily life. The traveller on a dangerous road instinctively picks his way—does not set down his foot without looking to see where there is firm ground to tread upon. The man whose lot is cast in a city where a pestilence is raging naturally takes all possible precautions to avoid the infection. A mariner does his best to guide his vessel clear of rocks and quicksands. The prudent man extends this caution to every act of his life. As a merchant, he weighs probabilities before he embarks in any enterprise. He does not enter into speculations as men engage in a game of billiards. He considers the results of his actions in relation to others as well as to himself. Above all, he looks to his goings in relation to their morality; he frames his life, as we have before seen (chap. [xiii. 14]), according to the law of God within him in his conscience, and without him, in the revealed word. 2. He walks thus cautiously because he recognises moral danger. He “fears.” This makes all the difference in the lives of men. Some recognise the fact that they are in a world full of moral pit-falls and rocks which will be their ruin unless they take heed to their ways, and others do not. Some know the moral atmosphere is laden with moral pestilence, but others do not discern its impurity. The wise man “departs from evil” as he would involuntarily turn aside if he saw a deadly serpent lying in his path, or would parry a sword-thrust made at him by an adversary. His main business is, not to take care of his life, but of his character.
III. The respective reward of the wise and foolish. The first are crowned by an increase of knowledge, the second have an inheritance; but it is only to be given over to their foolishness. The wise man’s moral sense becomes more developed “by reason of use” it is more and more able “to discern good and evil” (Heb. v. 14). He is more and more removed from that simplicity which “believeth every word”—he can “try the spirits, whether they are of God” (1 John iv. 1), while the foolish man is more and more the dupe of his own credulity, or of his own self-conceit, and becomes more and more the slave of uncontrolled passion.