Ben Sirach has a wise passage in recognition of the transcendent majesty of God. He has been seeking to describe the marvels of the universe, and words have failed him; how much more then if he should strive to declare the glory of the Creator! Wonderful as the visible world may be, Many things are hidden greater than these, and we have seen but a few of His works.... The Lord is terrible and exceeding great, and marvellous is His power. When ye glorify the Lord praise him as much as ye can, for even then will He surpass. When ye exalt him, put forth your full strength; be not weary; for ye will never attain (E. 4329-32). These words give the reason why expressions of belief in God so often appear to the unbelieving mere platitudes. Before the thought of the living God, men of intense and sensitive faith are either silent, or at the most will speak in simple language, being conscious that we may say many things, yet shall we not attain; and the sum of our words is “He is all” (E. 4927).

The Jewish proverbs recognise that God makes one fundamental demand from men, namely Honesty of purpose—the very quality or attitude of soul which, as we have just seen, is so essential to the growth of moral character:

He that sacrificeth of a thing wrongfully gotten, his offering is made in mockery; and the mockeries of wicked men are not well-pleasing (E. 3418).

Ben Sirach says of a sinner, confident in his wrong-doing because no man seeth him—But he knoweth not that the eyes of the Lord are ten thousand times brighter than the sun, beholding all the ways of men, and looking into secret places (E. 2319).

And again he writes of the hypocritically pious:

The Most High hath no pleasure in the offerings of the ungodly, neither is He pacified for sins by the multitude of sacrifices (E. 3419; cp. Pr. 2127).

It does not seem probable that the Almighty will be any the better impressed, should the wicked offer up hymns instead of sacrifices. Motive is still the criterion of worship: take heed how ye praise or pray, lest your words be no more than the sound of a voice; take heed how ye hear, lest, judging a sermon, you fail to hear God’s judgment of you; and above all remember that the chief act of worship, without which all else is in vain, must be rendered at home and in the city’s streets, for—said a Wise-man on whom the spirit of the prophets had descended—to do justice and equity is more acceptable to the Lord than sacrifice (Pr. 213). A plain commandment, but there is none greater: “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.”

And to them that are fain to keep the commandment God giveth gifts. “But” says one, “how know you that they are God’s gifts? Is there a God to give? Faith is very difficult to attain.” Certainly faith is difficult to the sophisticated in this and every age; but to the Wise it has always seemed natural, and never impossible. Said a young Russian modernist, “I find it difficult not to believe in God.” So much in passing; we shall return to the question a little later. Meantime, however, let us turn to what cannot be denied, the reality of the gifts and the axiomatic truth of the assertion that they are from God in the sense that they are the consequence of believing God is and is good.

To believe in the true God, the high and holy and merciful God of Israel’s noblest thinkers, the God and Father of the Lord Jesus Christ, certainly gives men confidence and courage, not because the dangers and difficulties of life are removed, but because our strength being increased, it becomes possible to overcome them: The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous runneth into it and is safe (Pr. 1810). Through the new spirit that is ours, life is lifted to a higher plane where we feel that, when sorrow and pain and sin have had their say, still the Lord reigneth; God is greater than His foes: Whoso feareth the Lord shall not be afraid and shall not play the coward; for God is his hope (E. 3414).

To them that seek Him God gives illumination. Evil men understand not justice, but they that seek the Lord understand it altogether (Pr. 285)—which does not mean that the pious are omniscient, but does mean that to follow after truth and goodness enlightens, whereas to seek evil and pursue it makes men blind. Accordingly it is said, There is no wisdom nor understanding nor counsel against the Lord (Pr. 2130), and the truth of that great saying has been repeatedly displayed in the rise and fall of mighty nations and empires, as well as in the lives of individuals. Selfishness is always short-sighted, snatching greedily at shadows and missing the best there is in life. Again, The curse of the Lord is in the house of the wicked, but He blesseth the habitation of the righteous (Pr. 333); and that is true because it is seldom that such things as passion, hatred, cruelty and haunting moral fears are absent from the former, and, whatever the good man’s house may lack, it will generally have love, joy, peace and all the fruits of the Spirit.

One remarkable proverb claims that When a man’s ways please the Lord, he maketh even his enemies to be at peace with him (Pr. 167); and the value of the saying is perhaps increased in that, regarded pedantically, the claim breaks down, whereas on a wider consideration it seems to be subtly and profoundly true. Thus, our truthfulness may not prevent some particular individual (our enemy) from deceiving us by a lie, but it helps many, who might become false and some day deceive us, to persevere in truthfulness; and if all men really were liars, heaven help our race! Our honesty may not prevent a thief from breaking through and stealing, but it does make it easier for other men to be honest and so helps to reduce dishonesty in the world; and if all men were deceivers, peaceful trade would cease. Mercy begets mercy; the kindness of all true men who love God and follow Christ is making the world more kind. In a word, the effect of righteous example is magnificently great. What matter then if the truth be superlatively phrased? Let us affirm it boldly: “When a man’s ways please the Lord, he maketh even his enemies to be at peace with him.”

Here is a verse that sums up the whole topic:—

The gifts are good. But is there a Giver, a God who cares? Why not so believe? It is neither impossible nor incredible. In the last chapter we shall touch further upon the great question. For the moment our concern is only with the answer to it that we find in the Jewish proverbs. That answer is boldly affirmative. Let us begin, however, with a rather hesitant saying; A man’s goings are of the Lord, how then can he understand his ways? (Pr. 2024). Possibly the author intended not to assert God’s guidance but only to complain of the baffling character of our fortunes. If so, we will have none of it. If there be no God at all, at least let us struggle to determine our path with such intelligence as we can muster. In the following, however, there is no dubiety about the affirmation of faith: A man’s heart deviseth his way, but the Lord directeth his steps (Pr. 169). Hard doctrine! theoretically possible perhaps, but is it probable? Certainly it is hard to believe, almost incredible, so long as it is considered merely from the critic’s chair. But the sublime hope that God careth for men displays an astonishing vitality; and the altogether amazing and significant fact is this, that just where it ought most surely to die down and be extinguished, there it always rises up and burns again—as now in the trenches.

Here is the witness of an educated man, who had long ceased to be a Christian in the conventional usage of the term. He is writing freely to one who had been more than a friend for Christ’s sake, and it is fair to give his words, because death is no longer a mystery to him. “Half-unconsciously I hummed the tune rather than the words of the famous hymn [When I survey the wondrous Cross]; As I did so there appeared before me, not a vision of Christ’s person, but of the meaning of the glorious crown of thorns He wore. The King of Heaven, the Prince of Peace, is a man—He took not upon Him the nature of angels. That would have been easy but futile. It would not have linked Him with us closely enough. So my vision told me. He must needs suffer for us.... And if suffering, and forgiveness, and love of our fellows, and general self-forgetfulness be what is required of every one of us, how greatly we all stand in need of His atonement. That was the lasting impression of my vision: but, subsidiary, there was another. I felt, for a moment, a sense of divine spectatorship, as if there was but God in the world besides me; and God, all-seeing, all-understanding, with whom no words were necessary[153].”

But also those whose training in the school of life has brought them no such command of words as had the writer of the above, have their own way of voicing the instinct, saying that “if a fellow’s name is written on a bullet he’ll get it, and if it isn’t, he won’t.” Press the naÏve metaphor. Who writes the name on the bullet? Not Krupps; they are too busy for that. Then is the writing the writing of God, graven upon the bullet? Probably the man himself would say, Fate is the writer. “Fate” on the lips of men who have nineteen centuries of Christian tradition behind them is only another name, and imperfect, for God the Father. There is fatalism and fatalism. The fatalism of men who, being conscious (however dimly) that duty has drawn them into a war which is at bottom an immense conflict of ideas and ideals regarding the use and abuse of national power, feel somehow that they will not die except they were appointed to lay down their life for others; that fatalism is separated by a hair’s breadth from explicit trust in the overshadowing love of God. Belief in God’s providence may seem difficult to the student at his ease, but it is high human doctrine. It was the doctrine of Jesus; and keen and earnest thinkers, and simple men and women innumerable, facing the sternest facts of life, have found it possible to place their trust in it, and, trusting, have found themselves at peace.

In conclusion, here is a proverb which needs a few words of introduction. The graces and benefits of religion are frequently associated in the Bible with “meekness” or “humility.” Now those English words carry unfortunate associations which are absent from the Hebrew they represent. The “humility” commended by the Prophets and Psalmists is a certain frank simplicity of soul—a quality from which not a few of the most effective and virile personalities in the world’s history have derived their power. It has little or nothing to do with softness or timidity of character; indeed courage is its hall-mark. Those who first rallied round the Maccabean leaders in the struggle against an unclean Hellenism were of “the meek ones of the earth.” The Russian peasant has this Biblical “humility,” but the proudest military empire in the modern world has tasted the fortitude of his soul. Wherefore we may claim that this exquisite saying is not merely beautiful, but is also profound: