Such is the extent of wickedness that in every place He beholdeth the evil and the good. Yea, if there be but one in a place, that one is both evil and good, and God beholdeth both his evil and his good. The evil God beholdeth first, but they are the good on whom He resteth, as approving of them, and as delighting in them. For their eyes are upon God in every place, as God’s eyes are upon them. The other looketh not after God, and so God looketh after them, as that He looketh from them in anger at their wickedness. He contemplates and considers, which is more than simply to behold, for contemplation addeth to a simple apprehension a deeper degree of knowledge.—Jermin.
The doctrine of Divine omniscience, although owned and argued for by men’s lips, is neglected or resisted in their lives. The unholy do not like to have a holy eye ever open upon them, whatever their profession may be. If fallen man, apart from the one Mediator, say or think that the presence of God is pleasant to them, it is because they have radically mistaken either their own character or His. They have either falsely lifted up their own attainments or falsely dragged down the character of the judge. . . . In every place our hearts and lives are open in the sight of Him with whom we have to do. The proposition is absolutely universal. We must beware, however, lest that feature of the Word which should make it powerful only renders it indefinite and meaningless. Man’s fickle mind treats universal truths that come from heaven as the eye treats the visible heaven itself. At a distance from the observer all around the blue canopy seems to descend and lean upon the earth, but where he stands it as far above, out of his sight. It touches not him at all; and when he goes forward to the line where now it seems to touch other men, he finds it still far above, and the point which applies to this lower world is distant as ever. Heavenly truth, like heaven, seems to touch all the world around, but not his own immediate sphere, or himself its centre. The grandest truths are practically lost in this way when they are left whole. We must rightly divide the Word, and let the bits come into every crook of our own character. Besides the assent to general truth, there must be specific personal application. A man may own omniscience and yet live without God in the world.—Arnot.
The subjects of verses 4 and 5 have been considered before. (See Homiletics on chap. [xii. 17, 18], page 274, and on chap. [xiii. 1], page 293.)
outlines and suggestive comments.
Verse 4. Rueetschi carries the idea of gentleness (see [Critical Notes]) through the two clauses as the central idea: “It is precisely with this gentle speech, which otherwise does so much good, that the wicked is wont to deceive, and then one is by this more sorely and deeply stricken and distressed than before.”—Lange’s Commentary.
That tongue which is “a witness of truth,” and therefore “saves souls” (chap. xiv. 25), “is a tree of life.” Go into any garden of the lost, and where no such tree is, all are pagans. One sees, therefore, how the figure is kept up. I am here born into a land where there are gospel tongues; that is, if, when I grow up, I am not in China, and not in India, but in a Christian village, where people have and spread the gospel, that “tongue, as a healing thing, is (my) tree of life.” Where I get “life” is from its branches.—Miller.
This verse may be compared with the second. The tongue which “useth knowledge aright” has a morally and spiritually healing influence. It imparts instruction to the ignorant. It speaks peace to the troubled conscience. It soothes the anguish of the afflicted. It subdues the swelling of passion. It allays the self-inflicted tortures of envy. It heals divisions and animosities. These and other blessed fruits entitle it to the designation, “a tree of life;” productive, as it is, of genuine, varied, and valuable joys to all within the reach of its influence. And when the tongue makes known God’s “saving health,”—the salvation revealed by Him in the Gospel,—it then gives life in the highest and most important sense.—Wardlaw.
A high image of what the tongue ought to be; not negative, not harmless, but wholesome, or healing, as the salt cast into the spring cleansed the bitter waters (2 Kings ii. 21). . . . But the meekest of men felt perverseness a breach in the spirit (Numb. xvi. 8–15). The tongue of Job’s friends broke “the bruised reed” (Job xiii. 1–5). Even our beloved Lord, who never shrunk from external evil, keenly felt the piercing edge of this sword (Psa. lxix. 19, 20).—Bridges.
One stripe of the tongue woundeth three—the backbiter, him that giveth ear to the backbiting, and the backbitten.—Cawdray.
Saith the old philosopher, “Than a good tongue there is nothing better, than an evil nothing worse. It hath no mean; it is either exceedingly good or exceedingly evil. It knows nothing but extremes, and is either best of all, or worst of all (Jas. iii. 8). The tongue is every man’s best or worst moveable. . . . A good tongue is the best part of a man, and most worthy of the honour of sacrifice. This only when it is well seasoned. Seasoned, I say, with salt, as the apostle admonisheth; not with fire” (Col. iv. 6).—T. Adams.