The form of these admonitions was determined by the sins of which the rulers of Jerusalem had been guilty. By them the course of justice had been perverted (ver. 23; Micah iii. 11, &c.); wrongs had been left unredressed, and oppressors unrestrained; the orphans and the widows, having neither money to bribe nor power to overawe the corrupt judges, had sought in vain for justice,—such judges as our Lord has depicted in His parable (Luke xviii. 2) were common. The four specific admonitions of this verse are a divinely-inspired exposition of the general admonition with which it commences. So regarded, we find it in God’s ideal of goodness. The command is given, “Learn to do well.” Yes, but what is meant by learning to do well? “To do well,” says the prophet, is “to seek out judgment, to restrain the oppressor, to judge the fatherless, to befriend the widow.”
This Divine ideal of goodness is in startling opposition to certain standards of excellence widely accepted both in the Church and in the world. It is in opposition (1) to the idea that a good man is one who does no harm. How prevalent is the notion that a man who refrains from injuring his neighbours is a person worthy of high commendation! But to do no harm merely is to fall far short of the Scripture standard of excellence.[1] It is in opposition (2) to the idea that a man who confines himself to the cultivation of personal virtues is a true follower of Christ. In all our Churches there are multitudes of persons whose “religion” is a purely selfish consideration. They have been taught that certain excellences are necessary to qualify them for admission to heaven, and to the cultivation of these excellences they address themselves assiduously, merely that they may secure their own eternal well-being. But such persons fail to observe that the mind that was in Christ was not a spirit of self-seeking but of self-sacrifice. It is in opposition (3) to the idea that the more spiritual a man is, the more indifferent he will be to what happens in the world. It is precisely to concern as to what happens in the world that we are here called. We are to “seek out justice,” to use all our influence that justice and righteousness shall prevail in the community in which we dwell. We are not simply to mourn over wrongs; we are to redress them, and we are to restrain the oppressors. Especially are we to see to it that justice is done to the orphans, and to all helpless ones such as they. The widow we are to befriend; she is to be our “client,” and we are to see to it that she is not wronged because God has been pleased to remove her natural defender. To live thus for others, to be the friend of the friendless, the defender of the weak, the resolute opposer of all oppressors,—this and this only, is to realise the Divine ideal of goodness.[2]
Application.—1. Men are good precisely in proportion as they are like God.[3] Between a merely “harmless” man and God there is no resemblance. Between a man who lives only to secure his own well-being and God there is a positive contrast. Between a man who is indifferent to the sorrows and the wrongs of his fellow-men there is still greater contrast. He is not indifferent to what takes place on earth. It is His supreme glory that He burns with indignation against oppression, and that He is the friend especially of the friendless and the weak (Ps. cxlvi. 7–9; cxlvii. 2–6). It is to resemblance to Him in these things, and not merely in abstinence from evil, that we are called (James i. 27). 2. A selfish life is a godless life. Men may be eminently respectable members of society, and highly esteemed members of churches, and yet be utterly unlike God. Men who live only for themselves, or to promote the happiness merely of their own households, and selfishly decline to take any part in philanthropic labours, or in social and political movements which have for their object the removal of public wrongs, are utterly out of sympathy with Him upon whose approval they reckon so confidently and so mistakenly. Had they any true love for God, they would have an unselfish love for men, and would be quick to feel and to resent the wrongs that are done them (1 John iii. 14, &c.) Dives was probably a highly respectable citizen of Jerusalem, and on good terms with the authorities of the temple, but the selfishness of his life sufficed at the last to exclude him from the Divine presence.[4] 3. A godlike life can never be a life of ease. How many members of our churches have incurred Christ’s woe! (Luke vi. 26). Prudent men, they have been careful never to “meddle” in affairs of their neighbours; they have never identified themselves with any revolutionary movements; against wrongs which have not troubled themselves they have never uttered words of flaming indignation! And yet they imagine themselves to be followers of Him who spoke of “the cross” which each of His disciples would have to carry. What He meant by this saying is a mystery to them. But let them begin to endeavour to “learn to do well” and this saying of His will be a mystery to them no longer. The world will very soon hate them even as it hated Him. But this is one of the surest signs that we are His (John xv. 18, 19).
FOOTNOTES:
[1] He is not half a saint who is but a negative saint. The forbearance of gross corruptions is the easiest and least part of religion, and therefore will not speak any man in a state of salvation. The tree that is barren and without good fruit is for the fire, as well as the tree that brings forth evil fruit.
For men to think to excuse themselves that they do no hurt, wrong neither man, woman, or child, and are not, as the Pharisee said, as the publicans, who generally were oppressors, it but a vain, foolish thing. The idle servant might have said, “Lord, I did no harm with my talent; I did not lay it out in rioting and drunkenness, or any way to Thy dishonour; I only hid it, and did not improve it,”—yet this was enough to condemn him. Can we call ground good ground for bearing no weeds, if it never bring forth good corn? Or do we count that servant a good servant who doth not wrong his master in the estate by purloining or wasting it, if he live idle all day, and neglect the business his master appoints him?—Swinnock, 1673.
[2] A religion that does not take hold of the life that now is, is like a cloud that does not rain. A cloud may roll in grandeur, and be an object of admiration, but if it does not rain, it is of little account so far as utility is concerned. And a religion that consists in the observance of magnificent ceremonies, but that does not touch the duties of daily life, is a religion of show and of sham.—Beecher.
[3] To be godly is to be godlike. The full accord of all the soul with His character, in whom, as their native home, dwell “whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely,” and the full conformity of the will to His sovereign will, who is the life of our lives—this, and nothing shallower, nothing narrower, is religion in its perfection, and the measure in which we have attained to this harmony with God is the measure in which we are Christians. As two stringed instruments may be so tuned to one keynote that if you strike the one, a faint ethereal echo is heard from the other, which blends undistinguishably with its parent sound; so drawing near to God, and brought into unison with His mind and will, our responsive spirits vibrate in accord with His, and give forth tones, low and thin indeed, but still repeating the mighty music of heaven.—Maclaren.
[4] They are selfish—because they have no motive of action beyond themselves. They individualise existence. The spider weaves a web, and that is its world. It retires into its corner for observation, and has no concern for any surrounding objects, except as they may be caught upon its net, and appropriated to its use. So they who live without God reticulate life with selfishness. Nothing concerns them except as it may be drawn into the mesh of scheming for ministering to their own wants and wishes.—Bellew.