George H. Morrison - Devotional Sermons
Devotional For
January 3
The Gentleness of God--Part II
"Thy gentleness hath made me
great." Psa 18:35
What exactly may be meant by greatness is a
question that we need not linger to discuss. It is enough that the writer of
this verse was conscious that he had been lifted to that eminence. That he had
been in extreme distress is clear from the earlier verses of this chapter. His
heart had fainted--his efforts had been in vain--his hopes had flickered and
sunk into their ashes. And then mysteriously, but very certainly, he had been
carried upward to light and power and liberty, and now he is looking back over
it all. That it was God who had so raised him up was, of course, as clear to
him as noonday. He had sent up his cry to heaven in the dark, and to that cry
His greatness was the answer. But what impressed him as he surveyed it all was
not the infinite power of the Almighty; it was rather the amazing and unceasing
gentleness wherewith that infinite power had been displayed. "Thy
gentleness hath made me great," he cried. That was the outstanding and
arresting feature. Tracing the way by which he had been led, he saw conspicuous
a gentle ministry of God.
The One and Only Gentle God
Let me say in passing that that wonderful
concept is really peculiar to the Bible. I know no deity in any sacred book
that exhibits such an attribute as that. Of course, when one believes in many
gods, it is always possible that one of them is gentle. When the whole world is
thought to be tenanted with spirits, some of them doubtless will be gentle
spirits. But that is a very different thing indeed from saying that the One
Lord of heaven and earth has that in His heart which we can dimly picture under
the human attribute of gentleness. No prophets save the prophets of Israel ever
conceived the gentleness of God. To no other poets save these Jewish poets was
the thought of heavenly gentleness revealed. And so when we delight in this
great theme, we are dwelling on something eminently biblical, something that
makes us, with all our Christian liberty, a debtor unto this hour to the Jewish
prophets for bringing this to our attention.
Now if we wish to grasp the wonder of God's
gentleness, there are one or two things we ought to do. We ought, for instance,
always to lay it against the background of the divine omnipotence. You know
quite well that the greater the power, the more arresting the gentleness
becomes. As might advances and energy increases, so always the more notable is
gentleness. It is far more impressive in the general of armies than in some
retired and ineffectual dreamer. The mightier the power a man commands, the
more compelling is his trait of gentleness. If he is ruler of a million
subjects, a touch of tenderness is thrilling. And it is when we think of the
infinite might of God, who is King of kings and Lord of lords, that we realize
the wonder of our text. It is He who calleth out the stars by number and maketh
the pillars of the heaven to shake. And when He worketh, no man can stay His
hand, nor say to Him, What doest Thou? And it is this Ruler, infinite in power,
before whom the princes of the earth are vanity, who is exquisitely and forever
gentle.
The Wonder of God's Gentleness in View
of Sin
Again, to feel the wonder of God's
gentleness, we must set it against the background of God's righteousness. It is
when we hear the seraphs crying "Holy" that we thrill to the thought
of the gentleness of God. There is a kind of gentleness--we are all familiar
with it--that springs from an easy and uncaring tolerance. It is the happy good
nature of those characters to whom both right and wrong are nebulous. Never
inspired by any love of goodness and never touched by any hate of evil, it is
not difficult to walk the world with a certain smiling tolerance of everybody.
Now there have been nations whose gods were
of that kind. Their gentleness was the index of their weakness. Living immoral
lives in their Olympus, why should they worry about man's immorality? But I
need hardly take time to point out to you that the one radical thing about the
Jewish God---one unchanging feature of His being--was that He was infinitely
and forever holy. He was of purer eyes than to behold iniquity. "The soul
that sinneth," said the prophet, "it shall die." And He visits
the sins of the fathers on the children, even unto the third and fourth
generation. All this was graven on the Jewish heart and inwrought into Jewish
history; yet the psalmist could sing in his great hour, "Thy gentleness
hath made me great." I beg of you, therefore, never to imagine that the
gentleness of God is only an easy tolerance. Whatever it is, it certainly is
not that, as life sooner or later shows to every man. Whatever it is, it leans
against the background of a righteousness that burns as doth a fire, and I say
that helps us to feel the wonder of it.
The same jewel upon the bosom of
omnipotence flashes out as we survey the Bible. The Bible is really one long
record of the amazing gentleness of God. Other features of the divine character
may be more immediately impressive there. And reading hastily, one might easily
miss the revelation of a gentle God. Yet so might one, walking beside the sea,
where hammers were ringing in the village workshop, easily miss the underlying
music of the waves ceaselessly breaking on the shore. But the waves are breaking
although the hammers drown them, and the gentleness of God is always there. It
is there--not very far away--at the heart of all the holiness and sovereignty;
it is there where the fire of His anger waxes hot and His judgments are abroad
upon the earth, and men are crying, "It is a fearful thing to fall into
the hands of the living God."
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