When I thought to know this, it was too painful for me, until I went into the sanctuary of God; then understood I their end.
The rectifying influence of the sanctuary
It is not perfectly clear what is here meant by “the sanctuary of God”; literally it means “the holies of God.” A few would understand it in the first sense as designating “the righteous plans of God’s government,” or “the secret grounds of his dealings with men”; while others would take it, in the second sense, as denoting “the eternity where God dwells as in a holy place.” But to me it seems self-evident that by “going into the sanctuary of God,” in this seventeenth verse, the primary reference of the term must be to the temple, which was the earthly residence of God and the place where He communed with His people. Asaph had been greatly disturbed by the anomalies which were continually occurring in the world around him. But by the revelation made in the sanctuary, through sacrifice and symbol, he was enabled so to grasp anew the truth that God is righteous, and so to appropriate the God of the mercy-seat as his own God as to find there the compensation for all his privations and the solvent for all his perplexities. But under the New Testament, the Lord Jesus Christ is the true antitype of the temple, and therefore, when by faith we enter into Him, we have the true corrective influence, by which we are able to rectify the false judgments of the world, and to preserve our faith amid all the doubts and difficulties that the course of things suggests. See this in--
I. Christ’s estimate of wealth. Men think it the supreme good. But Christ bids us care only to be rich toward God.
II. Of greatness. He makes it to consist in service.
III. Success. In a Christian’s daily business he is thrown continually among those who consider that the laws of his Lord are fanatical, or impracticable, and who tell him that if he is determined to act upon them, he may as well make up his mind to be defeated in the race of competition. More than that, his observation convinces him that as things now are their assertion is largely true; and so, as the days go on, he is in danger of being lowered to their level. But the Sabbath comes, and he enters into the sanctuary, where he is confronted with God, and then and thereby all the webs of sophistry that his fellow-men have spun are swept away as easily as one brushes from his path the gossamer of the morning. During the week the consciences even of the best among us have been more or less affected by things immediately around us, so that we are in danger of making serious mistakes in our life voyage. But here Christ comes to us and gives us our “true bearings,” as they are in the standard of His Word, undisturbed by any earthly or metallic influences, and so the needful rectifications may be made by us and we may start out afresh. (W. M. Taylor, D. D.)
The faculty of judgment
Let us think of the presence of God as the school of a right judgment, of communion with God as the means of growth in that high grace whereby frail, erring men may come to view with some justice of insight the movements and controversies, the hopes and fears, the promises and opportunities and dangers of tim age in which they have to play their part.
I. How rare a thing is any high degree of the faculty of judgment. It may be, perhaps, more common than the very finest forms of literary or artistic excellence; but it is surely rarer than such a measure of genius as suffices to secure a recognized place among the poets or painters of a generation. There are more men whose works one can praise than there are whose judgment one can trust. There are many, indeed, whose decision on any point within the sphere of their especial business or study we, from outside that sphere, may gratefully accept as not likely to be bettered for some while. And even in regard to the conduct of life, in the sphere of judgment, there are many whose counsel it would be impossible to set aside without uneasiness or distress, many whom we must feel to be incomparably wiser judges than ourselves, many who will always enable us to see, more justly than by ourselves we could see, some aspect of a case. But there are very, very few from whom we get that higher, deeper, broader help which it is the prerogative of true excellence in judgment to bestow; help to discern, through the haste and insistence of the present, what is its real meaning and its just demand; help to give due weight to what is reasonable, however unreasonably it may be stated or defended; help to reverence alike the sacredness of a great cause and the sacredness of each individual life, to adjust the claims of general rules and special equity; help to carry with one conscientiously, on the journey towards decision, all the various thoughts that ought to tell upon the issue; help to keep consistency from hardening to obstinacy, and common sense from sinking into time-serving; help to think out one’s duty as in a still, pure air, sensitive to all true signs and voices of this world, and yet unshaken by its storms. Yes, it is rare indeed, such help, and one’s whole heart goes up to God in thanks and praise for those with whom one finds it; and it is as they are taken from one that something like the chill of autumn falls on life, and the real severity, the trial and strain of it, is felt, in deepening loneliness and silent fears.
II. It hardly can seem strange that excellence in judgment is thus rare if we go on to think of the manifold discipline that it needs.
1. Even physical conditions tend at least to tell on it, and most of us may have to own that there are days on which we know that we had better distrust the view we take of things. It is good counsel that a man should, if he has the chance, reconsider after his holiday any important decision that he was inclined to make just before it; that he should appeal from his tired to his refreshed self; and men need to deal strictly with the body and to bring it into subjection, not only lest its appetites grow riotous, but also lest it trouble with moods and miseries of its own the exercise of judgment.
2. There must also be the insight and resourcefulness of learning; that power to recognize and weigh and measure and forecast, which comes of long watching how things move; the power that grows by constant thoughtfulness, in study or in life; the distinctive ability of those who, in Hooker’s phrase, are “diligent observers of circumstances, the loose regard whereof is the nurse of vulgar folly.” It is a high prerogative of the real student of history, that power to summon from the past the very scenes and issues, achievements and disasters, unverified alarms and swift reversals, which may point to the real import of the present and correct its misplaced emphasis.
3. And then, beyond all physical and intellectual conditions, are the moral qualities and habits, without which even able men blunder so strangely. For round the seat of judgment there are specious counsellors, who read our perverse desires before we own them to ourselves, who know exactly the rate of swerving from justice which will suit and gratify without shocking us, whose Suggestions really seem reasonable enough, till, as it were, the search-light of an honest contrite heart is turned full upon them. No knowledge of the world will guard right judgment in a man who lets ill-temper have its way with him; no warnings from history or experience will pierce the smoky fog of wilful sullenness; no fineness of discernment will be proof against the steady pressure or the sudden onsets of ambition, And what shall we say of vanity as an assessor in the work of judgment? Surely, brethren, many of us might describe, with the help of humiliating recollections about our own folly, some stages of defective sight which are like milder forms of that blindness, that loss of all sense of humour and fitness and proportion, which belongs to a well-settled satisfaction with oneself.
4. But there is another disclosure that he needs, if in the multitude of sorrows, in the cloudy and dark day, in the terror by night, he is still to hold the course to which God calls him. Only by a light that is not of this world can we surely see our way about this world; only in the strength of thoughts that are not as our thoughts can we “think and do always such things as be rightful.” In God’s light do we see light; and for all our discipline and care we shall lose our way if we try to find or keep it in forgetfulness of Him and of His self-revealing. Sooner or later it will come home to us, by His mercy, that we must strive to bring our souls into His presence and to hold them there, if we would hope to “see life steadily and see it whole.” We too may set our minds, as the psalmist set his, to think out and understand the hard things that the experience of life presents to us; we may perhaps fancy that we do understand them, and we may even deal with them successfully for a while; but presently we too shall find that they are proving too hard for us, until we go into the sanctuary of God. For it is there, in the most adequate consciousness of His presence that, in the power of the Holy Ghost, our weak and sinful souls can reach; it is there that the faculty of judgment gradually gains its freedom, its illumination, and its strength. It is not only that those who seek with contrite hearts that awful, holy Light must needs have striven to put away the sins that darken and bewilder counsel. It is far more than this. It is that in the stillness and simplicity of drawing near to God through Jesus Christ our Lord, and in the passiveness and intense listening of the soul, conscience may speak to us with penetrating clearness of the height, the majesty, the tranquillity of justice; of its home, in the very nature of God; of its work, sure as His will; of its exactness, absolute as His perfection; of the silent and immediate certainty with which the false estimates and verdicts of mankind are set right before “the Judge of all the earth”; of the solemnity of that appeal which, spoken or unspoken, reaches Him from every age, and is written down and cannot be erased: “O our God, wilt Thou not judge them?” “The Lord look upon it, and require it; Thou art the helper of the friendless;” “Thou art set in the throne that judgest right;” and of our heavy responsibility for every exercise of the power given us from above, to judge and act in whatsoever sphere, as His vicegerents among men. And then, as conscience thus speaks out her witness to the supreme and everlasting royalty of justice, the soul is also strengthened in the presence of God by a deeper sense of the power that is on the side of justice--the power that can wait, but not fail; that may use this means or that, but all for one unalterable end; the power which is behind the patience of Almighty God, and which we forget when we grow restless and fretful at His tarrying, and misread the little fragment that we see of His vast purpose in the world. But, above all, more moving to our hearts, more responsive to our need, than any thought which we can grasp of His power and His justice--there comes to us, as we watch and pray in the sanctuary of His presence, the distinctive disclosure of the faith of Jesus Christ. Much may still be dark and strange to us, and the questions that are always rising round us will need our utmost care, and we may often make mistakes in thought, and word, and deed; but the real, inner bewilderment, the fatal blundering of the soul can hardly be when we think of men and deal with them as, one by one, the distinct and unforgotten objects of that love which we ourselves have known in its astounding forbearance and condescension and inventiveness and glory. There is some sure light in the perplexity of this world, some hope even in its worst disasters, something steadfast through its storms, something still undefeated by its sins; since it is the scene where God, whose love can only be measured by the Cross, is seeking, one by one, in countless, hidden ways, the souls of men, if here He may but begin to draw them ever so little towards Himself, that hereafter He may prepare them to be with Him where He is. (Bishop Paget.)
The sanction of science to the Christian interpretation of the world
I. The theories and findings of modern science agree with the scriptural account of the constitution of things. Everywhere the Bible affirms or assumes that the ideal, the primitive, the essential arrangement of things was “very good,” but that the catastrophe called sin broke up the original order, and henceforth Nature became full of contradiction and misery. Never does revelation fall into the error of teaching that the substance of the world is vicious, or that any of its great laws are malevolent, but with wonderful clearness and consistency it main-rains that Nature is a right noble system unhappily spoiled. Are not our great philosophers conscious that this interpretation of the world expresses the substantial truth? Professor Huxley finds two distinct orders prevailing in Nature--a cosmical order and a moral order; the cosmical order being vicious, the moral order, which is discovered in the growth of civilization, being the expression of reason and righteousness. But is it possible to believe that two distinct antagonistic programmes prevail in Nature side by side? Surely if science has established one position more firmly than another it is that which affirms the unity of things, and it is impossible to believe that in the bosom of Nature a dual order should exist like that which Huxley suggests. Is it not far more reasonable, far more in keeping with science, to infer that there is but one celestial, persistent order, which someway has been obscured and disturbed? And what is this normal order? If the world presents such contradictory phenomena and yet we are compelled to believe in one fundamental law and order, what is that fundamental law and order? Is the good element the deepest thing in Nature, or the bad element? Are truth, goodness, and beauty the primitive, essential, and abiding laws of the world, or illusion, selfishness, ugliness, misery? Huxley suggests, as I have just said, that there are two orders, the cosmical order, which he calls the “natural” order; and the moral order, which he calls the “artificial” order; but this view has not commended itself to the majority of thinking men. The moral order of the world which is more and more coming into light presents no features of “artificiality.” Surely the moral order is the universal, the fundamental, the persistent order; amid the flow of phenomena it is the moral kingdom and law which cannot be moved. The earth is full of perplexing sights and experiences, but at the bottom it is good. The ethical process is really the cosmical process. The eternal elements are truth, goodness, mercy, beauty, joy. We should not have noticed the maladies of the world had there not been first an organic health; we should not have felt the discords of the world had we not first ‘been conscious of an eternal music. The rational, the moral, the good, constitute the profound and absolute order. Nature as we see it is not the ideal Nature; the order of Nature, taken simply as science knows it, is not its true order; we behold the primitive design in a darkened glass. Nature with all her terrible phenomena rises up,. as human nature with all its terrible crimes rises up, the magnificent protest on its lips: “I, yet not I, but sin which dwelleth in me.” And as the ages proceed the true and eternal order of right and beauty is ever being revealed more conspicuously.
II. Revelation teaches that all things have been thrown into confusion through the abuse of man’s free will, and modern science has made it the more easy to believe in this doctrine. Let us state exactly the dilemma that the condition of the world involves. Very often we find it impossible to look out upon the great universe without feeling that it is a magnificent expression of infinite intelligence and beauty. Our intellect exults in it; our heart does; our whole unsophisticated nature. We feel as sure as we can feel sure of anything that this glorious orb could not spring out of the blind workings of rude matter. Little comes out of a pot of paint left to itself. You must put the fire of genius under it before those magical prismatic exhalations arise which are known as the Crucifixion of Rubens, the Transfiguration of Raphael, the Paradise of Tintoretto, the Judgment Day of Michael Angelo. Genius alone glorifies paint into pictures, builds stones and dust into a St. Mark’s, converts ink into Iliads. So we cannot believe that this round world and all that it inherits sprang out of the blind working of slime and fire-mist. A fire of genius must have glowed under chaos before there arose out of it rounded skies, suns, moons, stars, the million types of birds, beasts, blossoms, human faces, human hearts, human consciences, all the living pictures and vital shapes of this wondrous universe. The order of the world suggests to our intelligence a rational Creator; the beauty of the world a loving and perfect God. Darwin acknowledges all this in his simple, touching manner. He says, “Another source of conviction in the existence of God, connected with the reason and not with the feelings, impresses me as having much more weight. This follows from the extreme difficulty, or rather impossibility, of conceiving the immense and wonderful universe, including man with his capacity of looking far backwards and far into futurity, as the result of blind chance or necessity. When thus reflecting, I feel compelled to look to a First Cause having an intelligent mind in some degree analogous to that of man; and I deserve to be called a Theist.” (‘Autobiography and Letters.’) Again he writes: “I cannot anyhow be contented to view this wonderful universe, and especially the nature of man, and to conclude that everything is the result of brute force.” And in one of his latest letters he says, “You have expressed my inward conviction, though far more vividly and clearly than I could have done, that the universe is not the result of chance.” But very different thoughts and feelings took possession of Darwin when he surveyed other aspects of Nature. Greatly distressed by its enigmas, he was constrained to write himself an Agnostic. He says, “With respect to the theological view of the question, this is always painful to me. I am bewildered, I had no intention to write atheistically. But I own that I cannot see as plainly as others do, and as I should wish to do, evidence of design and beneficence on all sides of us. There seems to me too much misery in the world. I cannot persuade myself that a beneficent and omnipotent God would have designedly created the Ichneumonidae with the express intention of their feeding within the living bodies of caterpillars, or that a cat should play with mice.” (‘Autobiography and Letters.’) Again he writes: “I cannot overlook the difficulty” (of believing in the existence of God) “from the immense amount of suffering through the world.” And again, “This very old argument from the existence of suffering against the existence of an intelligent First Cause seems to me a strong one.” Revelation solves this problem by declaring that the world as we see it, and its line of development as we know it, are not according to God’s ideal and purpose. “And God saw everything that He had made, and, behold, it was very good! So God created man in His own image, in the image of God created He him.” But, by the abuse of free-will, man has spoiled himself and marred the whole creation. There is something that man can call his own, “his own lust,” inordinate, irregular desire, and this intemperance and disobedience of thought and action have spoiled the good and perfect gifts of God. There is a great deal in this world that was not created by God, that does not come from the normal action of His laws, and in which God disclaims all proprietorship. We call earthquakes, cyclones, pestilences, famines “acts of God,” but the more we understand the power of man over telluric nature the more are we persuaded of his responsibility in these catastrophes. Man to a great extent holds the climates in his hand; the vast dominion of Nature falls into confusion through his sins of omission and commission; and if you consult Darwin, Marsh, and other scientists you learn that man, not God, is the agent of huge catastrophes which are charged to the account of the Almighty. As John Garth Wilkinson keenly observes, “Man is the insect of the universal gall.” And when we regard the ugly, venomous, and “destructive forms which abound in the earth, they are no more to be imputed to God than are deserts and pestilences. The author of “Evil and Evolution” says aptly, “Evolutionists are agreed that it is just the fierce struggle of created things that has produced birds and beasts of prey, and there can be little doubt that it is the malignity of the struggle that has produced the venom of so many reptiles.” And I may add here that this work, which I read after writing this address, contains a very interesting chapter on the subject of evolution without maladjustment. We do not hold the Almighty responsible for the stiletto of the assassin, the sword of the tyrant, the cup of the poisoner, and we do not hold the Almighty responsible for the locust, the spider, the vulture, the shark, the phylloxera, the microbe, for the fang of the serpent, the beak of the hawk, or the blade of the sword-fish. What is done under our eyes by the malign cleverness of the breeder of dogs has been going on in Nature to an infinite extent and by secret processes we may not follow. “Every good and every perfect gift is from above;” but our lusts are our “own,” and they have put their stamp of original horrible disfigurement upon the fair face of the world. The lord of the house determines the house in an extraordinary degree, and the good creatures of God by our misrule and violation have become agents and forces of evil. But it will be said that it is only possible to develop the world on the lines of conflict and suffering, it is only thus that things can be evolved and perfected. Now, it is quite true that the world hitherto has been developed by bitter and bloody processes, and, without doubt, seeing that we are what we are, no other method is possible; but it was palpably God’s design that we should reach the goal by another path--by a path of sunshine and flowers. Great things have come to pass through hunger, battle, bleeding, and death, but this is not the normal programme of God. He would have attained the glorious ideal through peace and plenty, through noble passions and fellowships. Sir W.J. Dawson has an instructive page in which he affirms that whilst the struggle for existence has played a great part in the development of the world, the most productive and progressive ages were those in which the struggle for existence played the least part. “Again, we are now prepared to say that the struggle for existence, however plausible as a theory, when put before us in connection with the productiveness of animals and the few survivors of their multitudinous progeny, has not been the determining cause of the introduction of new species. The periods of rapid introduction of new forms of marine life were not periods of struggle, but of expansion--those periods in which the submergence of continents afforded new and large space for their extension and comfortable subsistence. In like manner, it was continental emergence that afforded the opportunity for the introduction of land animals and plants. Further, in connection with this, it is now an established conclusion that the great aggressive faunas and floras of the continents have originated in the north, some of them within the arctic circle, and this in, periods of exceptional warmth, when the perpetual summer sunshine of the arctic regions coexisted with a warm temperature. The testimony of the rocks thus is that not struggle but expansion furnished the requisite conditions for new forms of life, and that the periods of struggle were characterized by depauperation and extinction.” (Salient Points, p. 27). The world would be far more beautiful, scientists declare, without this exhaustive struggle for life. Colour being dangerous is kept down to conceal creatures from their natural enemies. Humming-birds are so splendid because they have no enemies, and all birds and beasts would acquire new beauty were it not for the hawk and the tiger. And in many directions it is seen that, whilst struggle secures fitness and strength, it also implies impoverishment and extinction. These facts give an insight into the benign possibilities of Nature, and show how peace, abundance, and sunshine might have filled the earth with mild beasts, glorious vegetation, and noble men. God could have worked with other pressures, attractions and stimulations. We struggle now by a “Via Dolorosa “ and with bleeding feet to the golden goal, but God meant us to reach it by a way of pleasantness and a path of peace. That God should endow a creature with freewill, knowing that that endowment would involve its possessor in manifold sorrows, is a mystery we may agree to give God time to explain, but granted the moral agent, that is, the free agent, and granted that this agent proved faithless, the anarchy of the world is explicable without impeaching the character of its Creator and King. God is right and man is wrong, and the wrongfulness of man has perverted his whole environment. (W. L. Watkinson.)
Light arising in darkness
I. Unassisted human reason cannot vindicate Divine providence.
1. Because we are prone to err.
(1) Our intellect is depraved.
(2) Our will is perverse.
(3) The devil deceives us.
2. Because we see only parts of the ways of God.
(1) The machinery is so vast.
(2) The period of its revolution is so long.
3. Because Jehovah does not fully reveal Himself.
II. The way of duty is the way of safety.
1. We receive instruction. Wherever we commune with God, meditating on the Word of God, and praying, “Open Thou mine eyes, that,” etc., we are in “the sanctuary of God,” and are taught of the Lord. Receiving light from Holy Scripture, and from the Holy Spirit, our incorrect judgment respecting the prosperity of the wicked is rectified, and we see sufficient to convince us that the Judge of all the earth does right.
(1) We see that rich sinners are insecure.
(2) We see that rich sinners are suddenly cast down.
(3) We see that rich sinners are the objects of God’s displeasure.
2. We grow in faith. Two things especially nurture our faith.
(1) A conviction of our own ignorance and insufficiency. “So foolish was I, and ignorant,” etc.
(2) A consciousness that God is near to us and sustains us. “Nevertheless I am continually with Thee,” etc. Hence, “we endure as seeing Him who is invisible,” and become “strong in faith, giving glory to God.”
3. We rejoice in hope. The end is not yet. Eternity is before us. (P. J. Wright.)
On the difficulties of speculative inquiry
Knowledge is pleasant to the mind as light is sweet to the eye. But such pleasantness has its limit. Its pursuit may become painful--“too painful for me.” See this in the mercy of the providence of God. Up to a certain point it is delightful to contemplate; but it has also its fearful aspects which forbid too close a scrutiny. So of man’s intellectual nature: how pleasant to investigate man’s position, prospects, destiny under the government of God. Yet inquiries of this sort lead to dark and fearful issues. What are we to say of the problem of evil under the rule of a benevolent God? And the effect of such inquiries is twofold. Some are made sceptics: others are embarrassed and distressed. Some become angry and do nothing but complain. Others are much troubled and hindered in their religious life. Now, I would offer some considerations by which this feeling of painfulness may be mitigated or removed. And I begin with a confession--that I cannot solve the difficulties of speculative philosophy, nor the problem of the universe. I admit their reality, but they are all of them reducible to a common clement, and to a simple expression. They all prove only this--the imperfection, the restriction of our knowledge, nothing more; and concerning this we note--
I. That such restrictions of our knowledge are only part of a general system. Mystery is everywhere.
II. They are an essential element of our being. There are of necessity mysteries to all created beings. It may be that to God all things are clear, but to us they cannot be, for we are finite and He is infinite.
III. We have knowledge sufficient for all practical purposes. But these are the great purposes for which life is given, and to accomplish them God did not teach any one a theory. Men fed themselves on the fruits of the field long time before they knew botany; sailed on the rivers and seas before they knew the science of navigation. And so our Bible will tell us our duty and what else we really need to know, though on many questions it leaves us where it found us. But how foolish to refuse practical obedience until we can solve the problem of the universe.
IV. Restricted knowledge is an important element in our moral condition. It tests what is in a man’s heart, and gives scope for faith.
V. But restricted as our knowledge is, its field is marvellously ample. See the varied departments of science, natural, intellectual, moral. The expanse is crowded with objects. No one can master them all. And then--
VI. We are in a position, is regard to knowledge, of brilliant expectation. Soon we shall remove to a world where our present limitations will be no more, and where we shall know even as we are known. Therefore have patience. Are you prepared for the discoveries of the other world? Think how momentous they are. Do not, because some things are “too painful “ for you to know now, waste your life in inaction and complaint. (J. H. Hinton, M. A.)
Surely Thou didst set them in slippery places: Thou castedst them down into destruction.
The sinner’s end
Want of understanding has destroyed many. The best place go get understanding is the sanctuary of God. Until he went there David was in a mist, but in the sanctuary he was as on a mountain summit with the clouds far beneath his feet. For there he had communion with God, and heard the law of God, and so understood the end of the wicked. Let us then try to--
I. Understand the sinner’s end.
1. Like all else, there is death, but what a death is his.
2. It is the death of all in which he took delight.
3. It brings him to the bar of God.
4. He is sent be everlasting hell. Now, all this is certain; and often sudden; and how terrible; and it is endless.
II. Seek to profit by it.
1. How grateful should we be if we are saved.
2. Let us make our calling and election sure.
3. Be earnest about the salvation of others.
III. Warn the unrepentant. You are slipping down to perdition. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Slippery places
Winter is the season of frost. Then there is ice on every hand. There are perils on the land and on the water.
I. There are slippery places in life.
1. Scenes of animal excitement. The market--the theatre--the social feast--the excitements of wine and music, such things as work upon the senses, and enkindle the passions.
2. Opportunities of selfish gratification.
3. Company of the ungodly.
4. When tempted to doubt God’s righteousness and love.
II. Those who walk in slippery places are in danger of falls.
1. Insecurity.
2. Risk of injury.
(1) To peace.
(2) To character.
(3) To usefulness.
III. Slippery places prove fatal to the wicked.
1. Unmask the evil of their character (Proverbs 11:3). Judas.
2. Reveal the worthlessness of their hopes. Seem to thrive, promise themselves ease and length of days. Vanity. When tested they fail utterly (Psalms 73:17; Proverbs 29:1; Psalms 146:4; Job 8:13-20).
3. Manifest that they are the objects of God’s displeasure. Nothing keeps them out of hell but God’s mercy. Destruction is impending. Sure--sudden--overwhelming.
IV. Some counsels as to slippery places.
1. Avoid them, when possible (Psalms 119:101; Pro 1:10; 1 Thessalonians 5:10; Psalms 17:4).
2. When you do come to them walk warily. “Watch and pray.” “Be not high-minded, but fear.”
3. Take such friendly help as may be available (Ephesians 6:15; Psalms 23:4; Ecclesiastes 4:9-10; Psalms 26:1; Psalms 119:63).
4. Should you fall, endeavour to get good from the evil. Time for thought--prayer--renewal of faith and strength.
5. Should you escape, be thankful, and give God the glory (Psalms 94:18; Psalms 116:1-8).
6. Let Jerusalem come into your mind. There will be no “slippery places,” etc. (W. Forsyth, M. A.)
The prosperity of the wicked insecure
This may be argued--
1. From the fact that it is not founded on the favour of God.
2. From the uncertain and temporary nature of the very elements of which it is composed.
(1) The good opinion of others.
(2) The honesty and trustworthiness of our fellow-men.
(3) Deceitful, uncertain riches.
3. From the fact that the very habits to which that prosperity gives rise, may acquire such strength as to destroy it. Napoleon Bonaparte is an illustrious instance of the power of that habit of overgrown, lawless ambition, which in one luckless hour can ruin the splendid fortunes of an empire.
4. From the fact that their own consciences are not thoroughly reconciled to their prosperity, and the pangs and forebodings of conscience can soon embitter and destroy the very essence of worldly fortune.
5. The known uncertainty of life haunts the wicked with a dread that destroys the baseless joys of their prosperity. (D. L. Carroll, D. D.)