Ed Walsh
Puritan Board Senior
Proverbs 27:7
The full soul loatheth (treadeth under foot, Marg.) an honeycomb; but to the hungry soul every bitter thing is sweet.
And is not this so in spiritual things? The Laodicean professor—“rich and increased in goods, and having need of nothing”—loathes the honeycomb of the gospel.[7] Christ in his bitter sorrow is nothing “to him, while he passeth by.”[8] His love excites no tenderness. His hope no interest. “The consolations of God are small”—of little account—“with him.”[9] He can spare them without sensible loss. He reads the Bible only to carp at its most precious truths—offensive, as implying a ruin, of which he has no apprehension, and which he has no heart to contemplate. Thus he nauseates the most nourishing food; having no relish, because he feels no need. Another case presents itself, not less affecting. “Fulness of bread”—richness of spiritual ordinances—does not always bring its corresponding appetite. May not satiety be as great a curse as famine? Upon many a Christian professor it is fearfully written—The full soul loathed the honeycomb?
Far more enviable is the hungry soul, feeding upon unpalateable truths; yea—welcoming even bitter dispensations as medicine for the soul’s health[10] The sweet of the gospel is known by this bitterness. It makes Christ sweet to the soul. A sinner in all his guilt—a Saviour in his perfect merit and love.—well does the one answer to the other. Every view of Christ embitters sin. Every view of sin endears Christ. Nor is there any terror in the conviction, that thus endears the Saviour. A sense of want and a sense of guilt lay the foundation for solid confidence, and happy privilege.
What then is the genuine pulse of my religion? Am I willing to receive the word in its completeness—the bitter as well as the sweet? Do I love its humbling spirituality, its self-denying requirements, subordinating every desire to a cheerful and unreserved obedience to my God; ready to walk in his narrowest path, to have my most secret corruption exposed, to have my conscience laid open to the “sharp piercing of the two-edged sword?”[11]—Oh! may my soul be preserved in this vigorous devotedness!
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7 Rev. 3:17, 18. Comp. Matt. 9:12, Rom. 9:30, 31.
8 Lam. 1:12.
9 Job 15:11.
10 Ps. 119:67, 71.
11 Heb. 4:12.
Bridges, C. (1865). An Exposition of the Book of Proverbs (pp. 431–432). New York: Robert Carter & Brothers.
The full soul loatheth (treadeth under foot, Marg.) an honeycomb; but to the hungry soul every bitter thing is sweet.
[skipped first paragraph]
And is not this so in spiritual things? The Laodicean professor—“rich and increased in goods, and having need of nothing”—loathes the honeycomb of the gospel.[7] Christ in his bitter sorrow is nothing “to him, while he passeth by.”[8] His love excites no tenderness. His hope no interest. “The consolations of God are small”—of little account—“with him.”[9] He can spare them without sensible loss. He reads the Bible only to carp at its most precious truths—offensive, as implying a ruin, of which he has no apprehension, and which he has no heart to contemplate. Thus he nauseates the most nourishing food; having no relish, because he feels no need. Another case presents itself, not less affecting. “Fulness of bread”—richness of spiritual ordinances—does not always bring its corresponding appetite. May not satiety be as great a curse as famine? Upon many a Christian professor it is fearfully written—The full soul loathed the honeycomb?
Far more enviable is the hungry soul, feeding upon unpalateable truths; yea—welcoming even bitter dispensations as medicine for the soul’s health[10] The sweet of the gospel is known by this bitterness. It makes Christ sweet to the soul. A sinner in all his guilt—a Saviour in his perfect merit and love.—well does the one answer to the other. Every view of Christ embitters sin. Every view of sin endears Christ. Nor is there any terror in the conviction, that thus endears the Saviour. A sense of want and a sense of guilt lay the foundation for solid confidence, and happy privilege.
What then is the genuine pulse of my religion? Am I willing to receive the word in its completeness—the bitter as well as the sweet? Do I love its humbling spirituality, its self-denying requirements, subordinating every desire to a cheerful and unreserved obedience to my God; ready to walk in his narrowest path, to have my most secret corruption exposed, to have my conscience laid open to the “sharp piercing of the two-edged sword?”[11]—Oh! may my soul be preserved in this vigorous devotedness!
____________________
7 Rev. 3:17, 18. Comp. Matt. 9:12, Rom. 9:30, 31.
8 Lam. 1:12.
9 Job 15:11.
10 Ps. 119:67, 71.
11 Heb. 4:12.
Bridges, C. (1865). An Exposition of the Book of Proverbs (pp. 431–432). New York: Robert Carter & Brothers.
