I. The Wonders of Divine Condescension. 1. How marvellous that God should condescend to “reason” with sinful men! Not thus do human governments deal with rebels against their authority. The stern proclamation goes forth, “Submit, or die.” To admit helpless rebels to a conference on equal terms (such as “reasoning” implies) is an idea that never occurs to earthly sovereigns; but (ch. lv. 8, 9)—2. How marvellous that God should invite sinful men to reason with Him, with a view to reconciliation with them! The result of such an investigation of their conduct could only be their condemnation; but this is not God’s ultimate design. He does not desire to humiliate sinners, but to bring them to repentance and confession, in order that it may be possible for Him to pardon them. According to human standards, it would have been a great thing had God been willing to be reconciled to those who have offended Him so grievously; but how astonishing is this, that He, the offended party, should seek to reconcile the offenders to Himself. (2 Cor. v. 18, 19; John iii. 19).
II. The possibilities of Human Sin. “Though your sins be as scarlet . . . though they be red like crimson.” Sins that take complete possession of a man, and that are conspicuous to the public eye, may be described as crimson and scarlet sins. How common such sins are! What a spectacle the human race must present to angelic eyes! Scarlet and crimson sins are more common than we are apt to suppose, because responsibility is in proportion to privilege. In proportion to the sinner’s light is the sinner’s guilt. Consequently that which is a trivial fault in one man may be a crimson sin in another. When an offence is contrary to a man’s whole training, though it may be a small matter in the sight of man, it may be as scarlet and crimson sin in the sight of God. In these possibilities of human sin we have—1. A reason for universal watchfulness. Taken even in its most obvious sense, the possibility of which our text speaks is the possibility of every man. There is no human being who may not fall into crime. Many men, after living half a century blamelessly in the sight of men, suddenly yield to temptation, and are consigned to felons’ cells. David was no stripling when he committed his great transgression. Said Hazael, “Is thy servant a dog, that he should do this thing?” Yet he did it! (2 Kings viii. 13, &c.) Peter rejected Christ’s warning as incredible. Therefore (Rom. xi. 20; 1 Cor. x. 12).[2] 2. A reason for universal humiliation and prayer. Just because our privileges have been so great, God may put a very different estimate upon our transgressions than we are disposed to do. Therefore let us humbly seek pardon for the past, and preventing grace for the future (Ps. xix. 12, 13).
III. The certainties of Divine Grace. “They shall be as white as snow.” Where sin abounds, grace shall more abound. In God there is mercy to pardon every sin,[3] and grace to cleanse from every form and degree of moral pollution. Here, then, we have—1. A reason for repentance. There is no argument so powerful as this: God is ready to forgive. Many a prodigal has been deterred from saying, “I will arise and go to my father,” by a remembrance of his father’s sternness, and by a doubt as to whether his father would receive him. But no such doubt need deter us. We are not called to the exercises of a sorrow that will be unavailing. Our Father waits to be gracious.[4] Hear His solemn and touching message (ch. lv. 6, 7; text). 2. An encouragement for those who are striving after moral purity. Many who try to live a Christian life grow discouraged. There are discouragements that come from without: the unfavourable spiritual atmosphere in which they live, the glaring inconsistencies of some of the professing Christians by whom they are surrounded, the low tone of the spiritual life of those whose conduct is not so open to censure. Still sorer discouragements come from within: the faults that will not be shaken off; the evil tendencies that will manifest themselves; the evil thoughts that will keep welling up from the fountain of the heart, revealing its intense depravity. These things are carefully hidden from men, but God knows them, and the believer knows them, and because of them is apt to grow discouraged. It seems to him that he can never be “made meet for the inheritance of the saints in light.” But God has declared that he shall be: God has undertaken to perfect him in purity. “Be of good courage, all ye that hope in the Lord.” God is able to make all grace abound toward you, and He is faithful to all His promises. See what He has promised in our text. He has already fulfilled this promise in innumerable cases (Rev. vii. 9), and He will fulfil it in yours. Be not discouraged because your moral progress is so slow. How long does the sun shine on the fruit seemingly in vain! All the summer the peach remains hard as a stone. But the sun is not shining in vain. Some week in the autumn this is seen. All at once it softens and becomes ripe; not as a result of that one week’s sun, but of all the sunlight and warmth of the preceding weeks. The chestnut opens in a night; but for months the opening process is going on. In a moment many chemicals seem to crystallise, but the process of crystallisation goes on long before it becomes apparent. So there is a ripening, a crystallising, a cleansing process going on in the heart of the believer: though we see it not now, yet we shall have ample proof of it by and by. In this matter walk by faith, not by sight. Be of good courage! We shall yet be “white as snow.”
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Jehovah here challenges Israel to a formal trial: nocach is thus used in a reciprocal sense, and with the same meaning as nishpat in ch. xliii. 26 (Ges. § 51, 2). In such a trial Israel must lose, for Israel’s self-righteousness rests upon sham righteousness; and this sham righteousness, when rightly examined, is but unrighteousness dripping with blood. It is taken for granted that this must be the result of the investigation. Israel is therefore worthy of death. Yet Jehovah will not treat Israel according to His retributive justice, but according to His free compassion. He will remit the punishment, and not only regard the sin as not existing, but change it into its very opposite. The reddest possible sin shall become, through His mercy, the purest white. On the two hiphils applied to colour, see Ges. § 53, 2; though he gives the meaning incorrectly, viz., “to take a colour,” whereas the words signify rather to emit a colour, not colorem accipere, but colorem dare. Shâne, bright red (the plural shânim, as in Prov. xxxi. 21, signified materials dyed with shâni) and tolâ, warm colour, are simply different names for the same colour, viz., the crimson obtained from the cochineal insect, color coccineus.
The representation of the work of grace promised by God as a change from red to white is founded upon the symbolism of colours, quite as much as when the saints in the Revelation (ch. xix. 8) are described as clothed in white raiment, whilst the clothing of Babylon is purple and scarlet (ch. xvii. 4). Red is the colour of fire, and therefore of life: the blood is red because life is a fiery process. For this reason the heifer, from which the ashes of purification were obtained for those who had been defiled through contact with the dead, was to be red; and the sprinkling-bush, with which the unclean were sprinkled, was to be tied around with a band of scarlet wool. But red, as contrasted with white, the colour of light (Matt. xvii. 2), is the colour of selfish, covetous, passionate life, is which is self-seeking in its nature, which goes out of itself only to destroy, and drives about with wild tempestuous violence: it is therefore the colour of wrath and sin. It is generally supposed that Isaiah speaks of red as the colour of sin, because sin ends in murder; and this is not really wrong, though it is too restricted. Sin is called red, inasmuch as it is a burning heat which consumes a man, and when it breaks forth consumes his fellow-man as well. According to the biblical view, throughout, sin stands in the same relation to what is well-pleasing to God, and wrath in the same relation to love or grace, as fire to light; and therefore as red to white, to black to white, for red and black are colours which border upon one another. In the Song of Solomon (ch. vii. 5), the black locks of Shulamith are described as being “like purple,” and Homer applies the same epithet to the dark waves of the sea. But the ground of this relation lies deeper still. Red is the colour of fire, which flashes out of darkness and returns to it again; whereas white, without any admixture of darkness, represents the pure, absolute triumph of light. It is a deeply significant symbol of the act of justification. Jehovah offers to Israel an actio forensis, out of which it shall come forth justified by grace, although it has merited death on account of its sins. The righteousness, white as snow and wool, with which Israel comes forth, is a gift conferred upon it out of pure compassion, without being conditional upon any legal performance whatsoever.—Delitzch, Commentary on Isaiah, vol. i. pp. 98, 99.
A subordinate point in the imagery is, that scarlet and crimson were the firmest of dyes, least capable of being washed out.—Dr. Kay.
[2] The strong men are fallen; even Solomon himself, and David, and Noah, and Lot, and Samson, and Peter, the lights of the world, fell like stars from heaven. These tall cedars, strong oaks, fair pillars, lie in the dust, whose tops glittered in the air; that “they which think they stand may take heed lest they fall.” Can I look upon these ruins without compassion? or remember them without fear, unless I be a reprobate, and my heart of flint? Who am I that I should stand like a shrub, when these cedars are blown down to the ground, and showed themselves but men? The best man is but a man: the worst are worse than beasts. No man is untainted but Christ. They who had greater gifts than we, they who had deeper roots than we, they who had stronger hearts than we, they who had more props than we, are fallen like a bird which is weary of her flight, and turned back like the wind, in the twinkling of an eye. What shall we do then, when we hear of other men’s faults? Not talk of them as we do, but beware by them, and think—Am I better than he? Am I stronger than Samson? Am I wiser than Solomon? Am I chaster than David? Am I soberer than Noah? Am I firmer than Peter? There is no salt but may lose its saltiness, no wine but may lose its strength, no flower but may lose its scent, no light but may be eclipsed, no beauty but may be stained, no fruit but may be blasted, no soul but may be corrupted. We stand all in a slippery place, where it is easy to slide and hard to get up.—Henry Smith, 1592.
[3] Man may be willing to forgive a mite, the Lord a million; three hundred pence and ten thousand talents are all one to His mercy.—Adams, 1653.
He is rich in mercy, abundant in goodness and truth. Thy sins are like a spark of fire that falls into the ocean, it is quenched presently; so are all thy sins in the ocean of God’s mercy. There is not more water in the sea than there is mercy in God.—Manton, 1620–1667.