“I have written to him the great things of my law; but they were
counted as a strange thing.”–Hosea 8:12
This is God’s complaint against Ephraim. It is no mean proof of his
goodness, that he stoops to rebuke his erring creatures; it is a great
argument of his gracious disposition, that he bows his head to notice
terrestrial affairs. He might, if he pleased, wrap himself with might as
with a garment; he might put the stars around his wrist for bracelets,
and bind the suns around his brow for a coronet; he might dwell alone,
far, far above this world, up in the seventh heaven, and look down with
calm and silent indifference upon all the doings of his creatures; he
might do as the heathens supposed their Jove did, sit in perpetual
silence, sometimes nodding his awful head to make the fates move as
he pleased, but never taking thought of the little things of earth,
disposing of them as beneath his notice, engrossed with his own being,
swallowed up within himself, living alone and retired; and I, as one of
his creatures, might stand by night upon a mountain-top, and look upon
the silent stars and say, “Ye are the eyes of God, but ye look not down
on me; your light is the gift of his omnipotence, but your rays are not
smiles of love to me. God, the mighty Creator, has forgotten me; I am a
despicable drop in the ocean of creation, a sear leaf in the forest of
beings, an atom in the mountain of existence. He knows me not; I am
alone, alone, alone.” But it is not so, beloved. Our God is of another
order. He notices every one of us; there is not a sparrow or a worm but
is found in his decrees. There is not a person upon whom his eye is not
fixed. Our most secret acts are known to him. Whatsoever we do, or
bear, or suffer, the eye of God still rests upon us, and we are beneath
his smile–for we are his people; or beneath his frown–for we have
erred from him.
Oh! how ten-thousand-fold merciful is God, that, looking down upon
the race of man, he does not smite it our of existence. We see from our
text that God looks upon man; for he says of Ephraim, “I have written
to him the great things of my law, but they were counted as a strange
thing.” But see how, when he observes the sin of man, he does not dash
him away and spurn him with his foot; he does not shake him by the
neck over the gulf of hell, until his brain doth reel and then drop him
forever; but rather, he comes down from heaven to plead with his
creatures; he argues with them; he puts himself, as it were, upon a level
with the sinner–states his grievances and pleads his claim. O Ephraim,
I have written unto thee the great things of my law, but they have been
unto thee as a strange thing! I come here to-night in God’s stead, my
friends, to plead with you as God’s ambassador, to charge many of you
with a sin; to lay it to your hearts by the power of the Spirit, so that you
may be convinced of sin, of righteousness, and of a judgment to come.
The crime I charge you with is the sin of the text. God has written to
you the great things of his law, but they have been unto you as a
strange thing. It is concerning this blessed book, the Bible, that I mean
to speak tonight. Here lies my text–this Word of God. Here is the
theme of my discourse, a theme which demands more eloquence than I
possess; a subject upon which a thousand orators might speak at once;
a mighty, vast, and comprehensive theme, which might engross all
eloquence throughout eternity, and still it would remain unexhausted.
Concerning the Bible, I have three things to say to-night, and they are
all in my text. First, its author, “I have written;” secondly, its subjects–
the great things of God’s law; and thirdly, its common treatment–it has
been accounted by most men a strange thing.
I. First, then, concerning this book: Who is the author? The text says
that it is God. “I have written to him the great things of my law.” Here
lies my Bible–who wrote it? I open it, and find it consists of a series of
tracts. The first five tracts were written by a man called Moses; I turn
on, and I find others. Sometimes I see David is the penman, at other
times Solomon. Here I read Micah, then Amos, then Hosea. As I turn
further on, to the more luminous pages of the New Testament, I see
Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, Paul, Peter, James, and others; but
when I shut up the book; I ask myself, who is the author of it? Do these
men jointly claim the authorship? Are they the compositors of this
massive volume? Do they between themselves divide the honor? Our
holy religion answers, No! This volume is the writing of the living God;
each letter was penned with an Almighty finger; each word in it
dropped from the everlasting lips; each sentence was dictated by the
Holy Spirit. Albeit, that Moses was employed to write his histories
with his fiery pen, God guided that pen. It may be that David touched
his harp, and let sweet Psalms of melody drop from his fingers; but
God moved his hands over the living strings of his golden harp. It may
be that Solomon sang canticles of love, or gave forth words of
consummate wisdom, but God directed his lips, and made the preacher
eloquent. If I follow the thundering Nahum, when his horses plough the
waters, or Habakkuk, when he sees the tents of Cushan in affliction; if
I read Malachi, when the earth is burning like an oven; if I turn to the
smooth page of John, who tells of love, or the rugged, fiery chapters of
Peter, who speaks of fire devouring God’s enemies; if I turn to Jude,
who launches forth anathemas upon the foes of God, everywhere I find
God speaking; it is God’s voice, not man’s; the words are God’s words,
the words of the Eternal, the Invisible, the Almighty, the Jehovah of
this earth. This Bible is God’s Bible, and when I see it, I seem to hear a
voice springing up from it, saying, “I am the book of God; man, read
me. I am God’s writing; open my leaf, for I was penned by God; read
it, for he is my author, and you will see him visible and manifest
everywhere.” “I have written to him the great things of my law.”
“This article originally appeared here at Bible Bulletin Board.”
