ix. 17. For all this His anger is not turned away, but His hand is stretched out still.

I. Anger in God is a calm and just sense of displeasure against sin.[1] II. Has its expression in the judgments executed upon men in this life. III. These under an administration of mercy are designed to be corrective. IV. Cannot in the case of failure satisfy the purposes of the Divine anger. V. Hence in all cases of impenitence God’s anger is not turned away, &c.—J. Lyth, D.D.: Homiletical Treasury. Part I. p. 15.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The anger which God feels and displays is always against sin. It is never against sinners as offenders against Himself personally, but as violators of the eternal laws of righteousness and love. It is not possible for the most daring transgressor to injure God in the slightest degree, and therefore He can never feel anything approaching to that personal vindictiveness which we feel against those who have wronged us. There are some passages which at first sight convey a different impression, as when it is said, “Know therefore that the Lord thy God . . . repayeth them that hate Him to their face, to destroy them; He will not be slack to him that hateth Him; He will repay him to his face” (Deut. vii. 10); and again, “God is jealous, and the Lord revengeth, and is furious; the Lord will take vengeance upon His adversaries” (Nahum i. 2). But terrible as such passages are, they admit of a ready explanation. In them God manifestly speaks as “the Judge of all the earth,” as the Representative and Administrator of righteousness. Some years ago, proclamations denouncing the severest penalties against Fenianism were issued in the name of our beloved Queen; but no one imagined that she cherished any personal hostility against those offenders against her authority. Every month it is her melancholy duty to sign documents that consign convicted murderers to the scaffold, but no one regards these death-warrants as any proof that she delights in the sufferings of those whose sentence she confirms. Nor will any thoughtful person interpret such passages as setting forth anything else than God’s resolve to be faithful to His duties as the supreme administrator of justice, notwithstanding that in being so He must perform many things that are revolting to His infinite tenderness and compassion. His expostulations with sinners to repent and turn from their transgressions are a sufficient confirmation of this interpretation (Ezek. xviii. 31, 32, &c.) His anger against sin and sinners is no passion of personal vindictiveness, but is the natural revulsion of purity from impurity, of honesty from fraud, of truthfulness for falsehood; this instinctive abhorrence of generosity for meanness, of benevolence for malice, of kindness for cruelty.

If God did not feel and manifest this anger against sin, it would be impossible to respect and love Him. If He could look down on the mean and dastardly things that are done every day, and yet remain cold and emotionless as an iceberg, as indifferent to the sufferings of His creatures as some Oriental despots have been to the miseries of their wretched subjects, our whole soul would rise up in righteous condemnation of Him.—R. A. B.

See outlines: [God Oppressed,] pp. 28–32; [A Terrible Resolve,] pp. 61, 62; [The Purpose of Punishment,] pp. 63, 64.

The Destructiveness of Sin.

ix. 18–19. For wickedness burneth as the fire, &c.

One of the grandest and most fearful scenes in nature is the forest on fire. This is the figure Isaiah employs to describe the destruction that was coming upon sinful and stubborn Israel.[1] That destruction would not be spared and the wealthiest could not escape. And all this woe, at which it behoved the people to tremble, is attributed to the wickedness in which they delighted. “Wickedness burneth as the fire”—a comprehensive statement eternally true.

I. Consider how true it is in regard to individuals. The forest-fire—1. what a trivial thing it may seem in its commencement! It was but a little heap of dried leaves and sticks which a thoughtless traveller kindles, that by means of the little fire thus produced he might cook his evening meal. He had no conception how that fire would spread. So the wickedness that ultimately consumes and utterly destroys, often commences in what seems a little transgression, e.g., the few glasses of wine taken at a wedding-breakfast by one who has been a total abstainer; the little act of dishonesty that is undetected, &c. (James iii. 5). Many of the passions by which millions are consumed—avarice, lust, intemperance, &c.—seem little things in their commencement (H. E. I. 4497, 4498, 4513–4518). 2. It makes progress according to its own laws, utterly regardless of the desires of the onlookers. It will not stop at any line which they may prescribe. No man can accomplish a desire to burn down just one acre of a forest. If he kindles a fire in the forest at all, it will advance as far and as long as there is fuel for it. So no man can determine beforehand the measure of the power which permitted wickedness shall acquire over him; the fire which a man kindles in the forest of his own passions will go burning on long after he may wish it to stop. 3. Its power grows continually. It acquires a marvellous intensity and fervour as it proceeds (H. E. I. 409, 4500, 4501, 4534–4537). 4. Consequently it proceeds with ever-accelerating rapidity. Here again the moral analogy is frightfully accurate. 5. Consequently, too, its range continually widens. That which began as a little point becomes a vast circle constantly expanding. Things that seemed so far off as to be absolutely safe are speedily included in the ring of flame. So the fire of ungodliness which was kindled in one passion hastens through the whole nature, and destroys every vestige of virtue and nobility; it seizes every faculty of mind and heart.[2] 6. It is remorselessly undistinguishing in its effects. The fair flowers and the poisonous weeds, the stately cedars and the misshapen brambles, it consumes alike. So again with the sinner: the wickedness that consumes him spares nothing. In workhouses, lunatic asylums, prisons, how many most terrible proofs there are of the truth of this declaration! Once the owners of many choice possessions, and with prospects as fair as those of any of us, they are now like the forest region after the fire—blackened and desolate.