Bible Commentaries

False Weights—Pride, Etc.

Proverbs 11:1-16

Instead of "weight" read "stone." Israel had now become a commercial nation in some degree, and therefore had come into the use of balances and measures and weights. No sooner did a commercial life begin than dishonesty would seem to have begun with it. Men tell lies in their balances; without ever saying a word they speak falsehoods in their unequal weights. The Lord is here represented as looking upon our commercial life. He not only hears our prayers, but watches all the way of our dealing, at the shop, the factory, the bank, and the marketplace. He himself tests every balance and every weight. This is a thought which is apt to escape the attention of all who are engaged in the business of the world. Many men suppose that by a trick of the finger, or by some sleight of hand, they can deceive the unwary and make a profit out of the ignorance of those who unwisely trust them. This may be so for the moment, and in the letter, but it is forgotten that the permanent criticism is divine, the unerring judgment is from above, and that the eye of God is constantly searching, not only whilst we are in the sanctuary, but in all our commercial relations and responsibilities. Here again is a reason why all men should trust the Bible. Its morality is on behalf of the buyer as well as on behalf of the seller. The Bible has not a morality for one side of the counter and no morality for the other; the whole transaction is exposed to divine criticism, and brings upon itself either malediction or blessing, according to the morality which the action expresses.

"When pride cometh, then cometh shame: but with the lowly is wisdom" ( Proverbs 11:2).

Pride has a short day in which to live; immediately behind red and blustering pride conies pale-faced, cowering shame. No pride can stand that is not based on reason and sanctioned by morality: without these guarantees it is mere ostentation, vanity, irrational and unseasonable boasting, exploding by its own energy, and coming to nothing because of its irregularity. There is nothing to be proud of upon the earth. We cannot be proud of our strength, for in our highest estate we are but like the grass, which to-day Proverbs 11:10).

This is a tribute to righteousness which must come sooner or later. There is a heart in the city as well as in the individual man; a kind of civic personality as well as a narrow individuality. When principles of the highest morality govern the life of the city there is rejoicing everywhere, because where righteousness is the blessing of God Proverbs 11:12).

How true this is in all departments of life! We have just said that imperfect wisdom is exposed to temptations of vanity and to all the snares of flattery. The man spoken of in the text is simply void of wisdom: he only sees parts of things; his is a mere worldly sagacity without root or foundation, without core or innermost life that can withstand all storm and uproar and trial, and be the better for the distress and discipline through which it may have to pass. The imperfectly educated man despiseth his neighbour, because he does not understand him; his neighbour may be too large a man for him; his neighbour may see things which do not come within his purview; and because the unwise man cannot follow the man who is wise he vents his displeasure in criticism and depreciation. Many a man cannot be so clear and dogmatic in his statements as he would wish to be, simply because he sees a larger horizon than is beheld by those who are not of equal understanding with himself. The man who has large keen vision is afraid to tell the world all he sees, because the world is in so many instances half-blind, and could not test the reality of his vision, and therefore might be tempted to rail upon him, and call him by reproachful names. The man of understanding, however, holdeth his peace where his neighbour's character is under judgment. By the mere necessity of his understanding he sees more than the fool can see, and he is willing to abide in patience until processes eventuate in their proper issues. He may not commit himself to a definite judgment; but he shows his wisdom by quietly observing, by giving his neighbour time for development, by operating upon the principle that self-evolution will explain every mystery in the long run. Many men have a reputation for clearness and positiveness who ought to have a reputation for mere shallowness and impertinence. They can only see that which is palpable, and handle that which is ponderable; they have no inner life, no keen prophetic vision, no sense of the largeness and infinity of life, and therefore they can pronounce complete judgments, and pose as oracles and dogmatists, where they ought to be branded as men of vain minds, shallow understanding, and flimsy character. The man who is void of understanding is likely to be a talebearer; he must talk; he is a man of boundless words; it is dangerous to meet him when you are in haste, for if you ask him the simplest question he is prepared to pour out a flood of words in reply to your inquiry; he likes to be thought wise, to be in the confidence of people, and to be able to explain secrets which other men can only refer to with a modesty that is inconsistent with falsehood: the talebearer talks with his eye, and with his feet, and by making signs with his fingers; he wishes to impress the company with the fact that he knows a great deal more than he will say; and he also says a great deal more than he knows even by the very signs which are supposed to confirm his self-control. The faithful spirit concealeth the matter: he is a confidential man; he knows that many words are spoken which were never intended to be repeated, and that self-control is one of the first conditions of true healthy discipline. The faithful spirit could often excite sensation, create interest in himself, draw around him men who are anxious to obtain knowledge of secrets that they may profit by their felony; but the faithful spirit is willing to be misjudged, misunderstood, regarded indeed in some instances as morose, and solemn, and self-involved: he passes judgment unto the Lord, and finds in his own faithfulness a consummate and abiding reward.

"He that is surety for a stranger shall smart for it: and he that hateth suretiship is sure" ( Proverbs 11:15).

Instead of "stranger" read "another." Man is often pointed out in the Bible as the enemy of man. This might be thought to be churlish, if it were not so abundantly and tragically proved by daily experience. What could be kinder and more philanthropic than to be surety for another man? If all men were faithful this would be so; if all faithful men could control circumstances this would be still more truly so. But men are not all faithful; they lie in wait for one another; the strong intends to make a profit out of the weak; and even many who profess the morality of the gospel are willing to wait until the poor man is unable to carry his burden any longer, then they will relieve him of what property he may have, and enjoy themselves on the miseries of his life. It is difficult to apply any stated rules to these circumstances; the very difficulty of applying a stated rule to them suggests the need of our coming to them in the spirit of Christ, who never broke the bruised reed, took advantage of the fallen, or spoke unkindly to any man whose heart was sore and weary. It is an invaluable principle, however, that he that hateth suretiship is sure. There is a suretiship which is positively felonious—that Proverbs 11:16).

Here the sexes are put in beautiful apposition: woman is gracious, man is strong. Graciousness dissociated from strength has indeed an influence all its own; strength dissociated from graciousness is mere strength, and is wanting in all those attributes which excite and satisfy the deepest confidences of the world. A woman can work miracles by her graciousness. She knows how to enter the sick chamber noiselessly. She knows how to enter the room without violence, ostentation, or impressiveness, which signifies vanity and display. Woman can speak the gentle word, and look the gracious look, and use the magical touch of friendship and trust, and, in short, can carry her own way without appearing to do so by the very force of tenderness, sympathy, and persuasiveness. Who would raise the foolish question whether grace or strength is the more desirable attribute? Each is desirable in its own way; a combination that is the very perfection of character. Strength and beauty are in the house of the Lord. The great column looks all the better for the beautiful capital which crowns and enriches it. Men should endeavour to cultivate grace, tenderness, all that is charmful in spirit, disposition, and action: this cannot be done by mere mimicry; it is to be done by living continually with Christ, studying his spirit, entering into all his purposes, and reproducing, not mechanically, but spiritually, as much as possible of all that was distinctive of his infinite character. The Bible has ever given honour to woman. He is a fool and an unjust man who wishes to keep women in silence, obscurity, and in a state of unimportance; and she is a foolish woman who imagines that she cannot be gracious without being strong, and who wishes to sacrifice her graciousness to some empty reputation for worthless energy. It is not good for the man to be alone, for he is without grace; it is not good for the woman to be alone, for she is without strength: when men and women stand to one another in the right Christian relation they will complete one another, and together constitute the divine idea of humanity.

Scattering and Withholding

Proverbs 11:24

Two of the principal words in this text are of course "scattereth" and "withholdeth." We ought to be on our guard against mistaken definitions and incomplete meanings of such words. We ought also to be on our guard against shortsightedness and ill-managed perspective in the consideration of doctrines and the planning of life. Half a meaning may amount to a falsehood. A wrong angle of vision may deceive as to distance, magnitude, and proportion.

For example—one would say that to scatter anything is to part with it without advantage, to lose it; and that to withhold, to keep back, is undoubtedly to save and to retain. The text teaches us that this may be quite a mistake on our part. It must further be understood that all scattering is not advised, nor is all withholding condemned. The word scatter and the word withhold must therefore be regarded with modifications. There is reckless scattering and there is wise withholding. It will be seen, therefore, that the verse is not to be taken in its literalness; it is to be examined in its spirit. We must get into the method of the counsel, and understand the genius and scope of the doctrine. Happily we have no need to go farther in search of illustration of the truth of the text; we find it on every farm, in every business, in every school. The farmer will tell us that if the land be starved the crop will be starved as well. The merchant will tell us that if he be not often liberal in his outlay—liberal almost to the point of apparent recklessness—he will be short in his income. Some crafty persons will even give subscriptions to societies which they would gladly sink to the bottom of the sea, because these subscriptions come back to them in the way of patronage. Their donations are investments. Their charities are speculations. They turn benevolence itself into merchandise; they yoke generosity to the chariot of Mammon. Still they are preachers, and preachers of wisdom. If they abuse the principle, they exemplify it by thinking that scattering may mean getting. Their charities, their gifts, their plaudits, and their liberalities are often so much manure with which they hope to enrich the harvest of their own fortunes. All these considerations show us the importance of understanding what is meant by scattering, and what is meant by withholding. Let us seek with all eagerness of Christian hope to know the meaning of both parts of the text, that we may order the scheme of our life by its profound and most excellent wisdom.

The text calls us to benevolent activity founded on religious faith. Not to activity only, but to benevolent activity; not to a benevolent activity only, but to a benevolent activity founded on a religious basis—and not a religious basis as the expression of a selfish sentimentality, but the only true and abiding religious basis, that which we find in the Cross and in the life of Jesus Christ. The doctrine enlarges and glorifies life by calling into play elements and considerations which lie beyond the present and the visible. The very exercise of scattering carries blessing with it,—brings with it a peculiar and special benefit. Observe the very exercise of scattering, without pointing in a religious or Christian direction,—the very act of scattering breaks up the mastery of selfishness, it enlarges the circle of kindly interests, it shows that there is something in the world beyond our own personal concerns. It were better, therefore, better for Proverbs 11:30

That is not the correct reading of the sacred text. The second part of the verse must be read in the light of the first part—"The fruit of the righteous is a tree of life." The words ought to be read, as it were, by transposition of terms: "The wise man winneth souls." The usual interpretation, whilst not correct, does not exclude the interpretation that is accurate. It is supposed that a man is wise because he wins souls. That is not the teaching of the text. He wins souls because he is wise. Let us look at the matter in this way—there is a necessity in wisdom that it shall win souls. Wisdom always wins. The wise man may never speak to a soul, and yet he may win it. This is not the picture of an ardent evangelist running to and fro in the earth upon the vague and general mission of winning souls, which is the popular misunderstanding of the verse. The real interpretation is that if a man is wise he will by the very necessity of wisdom win souls, draw them to him, excite their attention, compel their confidence, constrain their honour. There is a silent conquest; there is a preaching that never speaks,—a most eloquent preaching which simply does the law, obeys the gospel, exemplifies the spirit of Christ, works that spirit out in all the details of life, so swiftly, patiently, sympathetically, completely, that souls are won, drawn, saying, Behold, what virtue is this? what pureness, what charity, what simplicity, what real goodness and beneficence! This must be the right doctrine because it comes out in the right line. So then the scope of the text is enlarged. He who would found upon these words an address to evangelists might deliver a very excellent speech, but he would miss the principal point of the text which he had chosen as his starting basis. The text makes all men preachers, by the necessity of their being wise. The sun never speaks, yet he draws all men who can walk out of the house. He does not come with a strong hand, smiting the door, or ringing the bell, and saying with sonorous voice, You must and shall come out. The sun simply shines, silvers the windows, seeks out all accessible corners, floods the house with glory, so that even cripples begin to feel they must sit outside, at least; they would gladly walk and leap and praise God in the open meadows, but being deprived of this high festival of thanksgiving they must seek a warm corner just outside, and thank God for the ministry of light. It is precisely so with the wise man. He does not know what good he is doing. He gives away his whole life, and yet is almost unconscious of doing so. Men look at him, estimate his influence, study his motives, observe with what wondrous precision the whole mechanism of his life works, and how all his thinking comes to solid and beneficent conclusions, and they say, So long as that man lives we cannot laugh at his faith: he is a living argument; he never speaks a word upon subjects of a metaphysical or even a religious kind, and yet his whole life is religious. He is like the concealed Christ; he is mistaken for the gardener, and yet the mistake is self-convicting, for they who affect to mistake him feel in their innermost souls that there is about him a royalty which common men cannot honestly claim. Thus we have only to be wise in order to win souls. The fool wins nobody; the buffoon is no preacher either by tongue or by example; but the solid character, the wise head, the discerning eye, the judgment that is well based, and that goes straight upward, heavenward, will in the long run secure attention, confidence, and honour.

The wise man does not drive souls—he wins them. Souls cannot be driven. We may attempt to drive them, and therein show our folly, but it is of the nature of the soul that it may be charmed, lured by angel-like beauty, by heavenly eloquence, by mighty persuasion of reason. The soul that is driven offers no true worship; nay, as we have just said, the soul can defy the driver. The body can be driven to church, but not the soul. It does not follow because a man is sitting in church that he himself is there. A child forced to church is not at church. The house of God, therefore, should be filled with fascination, attraction, charm, so that little children should long to go to it, and it should be to them a deprivation not to go there. The wise man would not drive men to any form of goodness, though he is bound to prohibit them under penalty from certain forms of social evil, because those forms involve the health, the prosperity, and the best advantage of others. Men cannot be driven to observe the Sabbath. He who does not open his place of business because the law forbids him to do so, or society would frown upon him for doing so, opens every shutter of his window and every desk in his counting-house, and he is as busy there and as guilty as if he were there palpably, visibly, and defiantly.

Souls are to be won. The only way of gaining souls is by winning them. He that is wise in everything but soul-winning is not wise. There are those who are winning the world and losing themselves. A man cannot healthily affect the souls of others until his own soul is in the right mood, and in the right relation to God. There is a sense in which every man must preach himself—that is to say, he can only preach according to the level of his own experience: he may say much beyond that, and aside from that, but in so saying it it is the tongue alone that is employed; the whole preacher is not there unless his experience be there, his entire heart, his deepest conviction,—then how he talks, and burns, and reasons, and allures, and persuades! What is it to have won everything but souls—everything but affection, confidence, trust, real honour of the heart? Such a man is dead whilst he lives: nobody cares for him; people will hear years hence without surprise that he is dead; his death created no blank, disturbed no equanimity, extorted no tears, arrested no festival. There is, therefore, a sense in which we should seek to prove our wisdom by the winning of souls. He who has won many souls is rich. The souls he has won will never forget him, never neglect him, will always put up the shielding hand, and offer the needful sympathy and help. Win the souls of your children; win the souls of all around you: give them to feel that you are a divinely-created centre, a high influence, a vitalising energy, a tree of life, and that your fruit is meant for the satisfaction of the world's hunger. The tree does not publish an announcement on paper or in ink that its fruit may be plucked; the tree simply grows the fruit, and when it has ripened, by its very ruddiness it says, I am ready; put out your hands, and satisfy yourselves with this food. It is the same with the wise character. All its experience is for the use of society; all its records are open documents, to be perused by those who would know the way of understanding and the secret of wisdom and the reality of noble life. Every true man is thus a living gospel.

Christianity is a direct appeal to the soul,—to that inner spirit or organ or faculty—for we need not stop to determine names—which gives man manhood, spiritual accent, divine figure. Wherein Christianity is a religion of the body it is so secondarily; rather—for the terms admit of amendment—Christianity looks upon the whole man, and treats him in comparative degrees, never helping the body without its intention being to go further, and in helping the soul always including the body. But it is right to define the function of Christianity as a religion that appeals to the soul, wants to get at the mind, to find its way into the heart, to sit down upon the throne of love. Christianity does not come asking us to believe certain statements only; when Christianity offers statements for belief, it is that those statements being believed should be transformed into life, character, beneficence. You would not say that a man is honest in all his actions because he believes the pence-table. It is precisely what people are saying about the religion of Jesus Christ—that a man is a Christian because he believes Christian dogmas, doctrines, or statements. You would not say that because a man believes the railway time-table therefore he often takes a journey. Yet this is precisely what men say regarding the truths of Christianity. They would describe a man as a thorough Christian because he believes a certain number of definite statements. He may intellectually believe every statement in the long enumeration, and yet know nothing about Christianity, as a man might believe the time-table and never take a journey. Christianity, therefore, wins the soul's homage—not the assent of dry intellect, not the fascination of excited fancy, not the entrancement of a bewildered imagination, but the sacrifice of a life. It wants every man to say, Jesus Christ, Son of God, I am thine; take me, use me, keep me in thine hand, hide me in thine heart, and let me have no life but thine. Failing that, the rest is decoration, sentiment, utterance without eloquence, words without wisdom. So the position of the Church is defined. The Church does not claim to speak upon all subjects. Its supremacy is in one direction. A preacher might do very much good by discoursing upon the structure of the universe, by treating with information that is up to date questions which are troubling men's minds in all lines of thought; but the preacher's business is with souls, to get out of souls wrong thinking, prejudices, sophisms, follies, madnesses, of every name and mould and tone. Christ's business was to heal the mind, to work restoration in the soul, to glorify man by a resurrection from death in trespasses and in sins. Whatever is done of another kind must be done with distinct reference to this supreme purpose; then the initial work becomes sacred, of high value, almost indispensable in a complicated social system, but the end of all must be that the soul shall be won, have rest and peace, be a child of music, an angel of light, an ally of God.

Christianity thus becomes a persuasive appeal. "We beseech men," said Paul. Who beseeches men to take gold? Who beseeches men to double all their earthly possessions? Who beseeches men to seize an immediate advantage, and to insist upon its retention, when that advantage is of a physical and ponderable kind, which can be weighed and estimated and valued in plain figures? Yet, mystery of mysteries, every man has to be reasoned with when it comes to a question of the soul's relation to God. Why? Because of the vastness of the subject. We are not entitled always to say it is because of personal aversion to God, but because the subject itself is boundless as the firmament,—yea, where the firmament ends this subject begins, making all things little by the sublimity of its vastness: whereas, other advantages are there, just at hand, immediately realisable; the appetites are pressing for satisfaction, and there is a fountain where they may drink and be filled; and the soul thirsts with a desire which drinks up all the fountains and rivers, and burns with unquenchable ardour, until it is led to the living God, and in eternity finds the reply to the necessities of time. Christianity occupies the position of a mendicant, an appellant, a suppliant—one who goes up and down the world, saying, Believe me, receive me, give me heart room, and I will give you pardon and rest and hope. But the metaphysics are so profound, the advantages so spiritual, the competition is so tremendous, the world is so large because it is so near, the devil so mighty because so persistent, that sometimes the soul falters, hesitates, balances itself, withdraws, returns, and spends a life of peril, now almost in hell, now almost in heaven. There is no driving in Christianity. Therefore there should be no attempt to drive any Christian to church or to preaching; everything should be winsome, persuasive, attractive, alluring. This is the very genius of the gospel, because it is the very spirit of Christ.

This attempt to win souls, on the part of Christianity, is a philosophical attempt. Christianity is adapted to human constitution, mental and moral. He who invented Christianity, whoever he was, had laid a line upon the human mind, and had plumbed the depths of the human heart, and had noted all the outgoing and issue of human imagination. So much is this the case, and so truly and so really, as to resent the idea that Christianity had any builder or maker but God. Only he who made the human heart knows how to satisfy the human heart. That nothing can satisfy the human heart but the living God, in some form, is a proof that man was made in the image and likeness of God. Do not scorn the idolatry of heathen minds; do not pour contempt upon the superstitions of those who have never heard of the Son of God: rather ought they all to be accepted as points to begin at, as so many assumptions; yea, they may be regarded as so many solid bases on which to proceed, and sometimes the foundation has to be taken out after the building is up. Herein is a mystery, or would be but for what we know of practical life. We have seen one foundation taken away, and another put in its place. In the education of minds that have no Christian advantages you must begin where they can begin, and after long processes return to initial points, and work the miracles of Christ. The education of the world is the largest of all questions, and every element may be needed, and judgment should be suspended until the last element has been introduced and the top-stone has been put on. By this standard we would have our Christianity judged.

Christianity is philosophical in that it is also progressive. The education of the Christian never stops When a man says his Christian education is finished you may be perfectly sure it has never begun. Said Paul, "I count not myself to have apprehended." The horizon is always a million miles further on. When I reached the mountain I thought I should lay my hand upon the limit of the sky, and behold the mountain-top only helped me to see how much larger the sky was than I had ever imagined. So when we advance from one Christian stage to another it is to see that the horizon yet lies beyond. This should humble the soul in the very act of inspiring it. This, too, should make men modest in all acts of judgment; for we are not all upon a level, nor have we all attained the same points. There is no monotony in our Christian attitude in relation to God. The strong are far beyond us; we are little and faint, yet we are pursuing, and the voices of the great strong climbers come down the hill, saying, Struggle on; be not weary in well-doing; it is very difficult where you are now, but take hold of that projection, look at yonder point, halt a little to get your breath again, and then follow on; up here it burns with ineffable beauty, and every spot of land is a flower; we cannot see the mountain because of the Paradise. A soul is won when it repents. A soul is won when it says, "Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief." A soul is won when it says, "Lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee."