Proverbs 11:10-11

MAIN HOMILETICS OF Proverbs 11:10

THE REWARD OF THE RIGHTEOUS CITIZEN OR RULER. THE FATE OF THE UNRIGHTEOUS ONE

I. The words imply that it does not always go with the righteous. “When it goeth well,” etc. A good man’s plans and efforts for the good of his fellow-citizens or fellow-countrymen are not always successful. They may need more resources to make them effectual than he has at his command. The men whom he desires to benefit may not themselves be willing to exercise the self-denial for their own welfare that he is willing to undergo for them. They would be willing to reap the harvest of joy, but they do not like to sow the seed of suffering. It often happens that a righteous man is in the midst of a generation who cannot appreciate his moral worth and his intellectual wisdom. It has been said that the intellectual struggles of one age are the intuitions of the next, and men that are now regarded as grand and noble were perhaps looked upon as of little worth in the generation in which they lived. Or a man may not live long enough to complete his plans for the public benefit—the best things are often slow in coming to maturity, and many a righteous man has been called away before he has perfected his designs of blessing for his race. Although the good and faithful servant will always have the “Well-done” of his master, his plans and purposes are often seemingly frustrated by the shortness of his life, the scantiness of his resources, or the misconception of his fellows. History abounds with illustrations of this truth.

II. That there must come a time when it will go well with the righteous. It is an ordination of God’s providence that the righteous man should pass through both experiences. The soldier needs defeat as well as victory to develope all his latent talent, to make manifest all the heroism that is within him. The mariner must pass through storms as well as fair weather if he is to learn the true art of navigation. And so the righteons man must have the experience of apparent failure and defeat to develop faith, and patience, and courage, which would otherwise remain hidden or dwarfed. But when this has been accomplished, a “set time to favour him will come.” “He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him” (Psalms 126:6). The worth of his character and his work will be recognised freely and generously by many, and must be acknowledged, although it may be with reluctance, even by his opponents. Joseph passed many years in servitude and imprisonment, but by and by his worth was freely acknowledged. “Can we find such a one as this is, a man in whom the Spirit of God is? (Genesis 41:38.) Both king and people decided that it ought to go well with him, and it did go well with him now that his ability and character were known.

III. The blessing and consequent joy that comes to others when the time has come for it to “go well with the righteous.” By the blessing of the righteous the city is exalted—“the city” as a consequence “rejoiceth.” Even the bad in a kingdom have cause for joy when the righteous have the pre-eminence in a community, whatever be their condition they would be much worse off under the rule of unrighteousness. The lost in hell and those who are being lost on earth are in a better condition from having the Righteous God upon the throne of the universe. The greatest criminals in our prisons find it better to have a just and righteous gaoler than an unrighteous one. So the whole city has reason to rejoice in the pre-eminence—in the success of the righteous. Such men exalt a city—

1. By forming a basis for commercial enterprise. The rule of the unrighteous in a city will, in time, prevent commercial prosperity by destroying public confidence.

2. By promoting the just rights of all. That community is blessed where each citizen enjoys freedom to live his life and do his best for himself and others without trampling on the rights of his fellows. Tyranny on the one hand provokes rebellion on the other, and misery to both parties is the issue. The head is intended to think and plan for the rest of the body, the limbs are intended to carry out the designs of the head; if either the one or the other fails to perform its work, suffering comes to the whole frame. So in the body politic. Righteous men strive for the union of all classes for the good of all, and this unity exalts a city—gives peace at home, and is the surest defence against foes without. Righteousness is a stronger wall than any material defence. This is the safeguard of the ideal city of Isaiah’s prophecy. “I will make thine officers peace, and thine exactors righteousness. Violence shall no more be heard in thy land, wasting nor destruction within thy borders; but thou shalt call thy walls Salvation, and thy gates Praise” (Isaiah 60:18).

3. By averting Divine judgments. Sodom would have been spared if there had been ten righteous within the city. Unrighteousness in a nation must bring national calamity, but a minority of good men delays the visitation. “Except the Lord of Hosts had left unto us a very small remnant, we should have been as Sodom, and we should have been like unto Gomorrah” (Isaiah 1:9). “For the elect’s sake, those days shall be shortened” (Matthew 24:22).

IV. That as the character and services of the righteous man shall meet with public and grateful recognition, so the man who by his wicked influence has brought misery upon his fellow-creatures shall meet with public execration. Just as the righteous man often seems defeated by untoward circumstances, and all his unselfish and patriotic plans seem nipped in the bud for a time, yet success comes to him in the end, or, if not so, yet at his death his real worth is seen and acknowledged; so a wicked and selfish man may seem to carry all before him for a time, and may even succeed in blinding men to his real character, yet the time comes when his worthlessness and self-seeking meet with their terrible yet just reward. There is a tendency generally in human nature to condone a man’s sins after he is dead, but instances are not few in the history of the world when this hnmane tendency has been stifled by the exceeding curse that some men have been to the world.

ILLUSTRATIONS OF Proverbs 11:10

A more vivid illustration of what has been said here concerning a righteous man cannot be found than in the life and labours of William the Silent, Prince of Holland. This noble man gave his all to the liberation of the Netherlands from Spanish tyranny. For many years he bore the whole weight of a struggle which Motley designates “as unequal as men have ever undertaken.” “To exclude the Inquisition,” he continues, “to maintain the ancient liberties of his country, was the task which he appointed to himself when a youth of three and twenty. He accomplished the task, through danger, amid toils, and with sacrifices such as few men have ever been able to lay upon their country’s altar; for the disinterestedness of the man was as prominent as his fortitude. A prince of high rank and with royal revenues, he stripped himself of station, wealth, almost at times of the common necessaries of life, and became, in his country’s cause, nearly a beggar as well as an outlaw.” At times it seemed as if the cause to which he had thus devoted himself was lost, and even this disinterested man did not escape the envy and suspicion of those whom he was trying to serve. But he lived to see his work accomplished, and when he fell at last by the hand of an assassin, he was “entombed,” to quote again from his biographer, “amid the tears of a whole nation.” “The people were grateful and affectionate, for they trusted the character of their ‘Father William,’ and not all the clouds which calumny could collect ever dimmed to their eyes the radiance of that lofty mind to which they were accustomed, in their darkest calamities, to look for light. As long as he lived, he was the guiding star of a whole brave nation, and when he died, the little children cried in the streets.”—Motley’s Rise of the Dutch Republic.

Illustrations of the latter clause of Proverbs 11:10 abound in history. “Memorable in the prison experiences of Herod Agrippa was the arrival of news that the tyrant of Capreæ was dead. Immediately on the death of Tiberius, Marsyas, Agrippa’s faithful bondslave, hastened to his master’s dungeon, and communicated the joyful intelligence, saying, in the Hebrew language, “The lion is dead.” The centurion on guard heard the rejoicing, inquired as to the cause, ordered the royal prisoner’s chains to be struck off, and invited him to supper. But more memorable was the exultation, widely felt and cruelly expressed, at Agrippa’s own death—that loathsome death, so strange in its surroundings, of which a tale is told in the Acts of the Apostles. The inhabitants of Sebaste and Cæsarea, as we learn from Josephus, and particularly Herod’s own soldiers, indulged in the most brutal rejoicings at his death,—heaping his memory with reproaches.… In his account of the death of the Emperor Maximin, Gibbon says, “It is easier to conceive than to describe the universal joy of the Roman world on the fall of the tyrant.” The death of Richelieu is said to have been felt by France like the relief from a nightmare; from the king to the lowest rhymster, all joined in the burden of the couplets that proclaimed it—Il est parti, il a plié bagage, ce cardinal.—Jacox.

Judge Jeffreys. A disposition to triumph over the fallen has never been one of the besetting sins of Englishmen; but the hatred of which Jeffreys was the object was without a parallel in our history, and partook but too largely of the savageness of his own nature. The people, where he was concerned, were as cruel as himself, and exulted in his misery as he had been accustomed to exult in the misery of convicts listening to the sentence of death, and of families clad in mourning. The rabble congregated before his deserted mansion in Duke Street, and read on the door, with shouts of laughter, the bills which announced the sale of his property. Even delicate women, who had tears for highwaymen and housebreakers, breathed nothing but vengeance against him. The lampoons which were hawked about the town were distinguished by an atrocity rare even in those days. Hanging would be too mild a death for him: a grave under the gibbet would be too respectable a resting place: he ought to be whipt to death at the cart’s tail: he ought to be tortured like an Indian: he ought to be devoured alive.… Disease, assisted by strong drink and by misery, did its work fast. He dwindled in a few weeks from a portly and even corpulent man to a skeleton, and died in the forty-first year of his age. He had been Chief Justice of the King’s Bench at thirty-five, and Lord Chancellor at thirty-seven. In the whole history of the English bar there is no other instance of so rapid an elevation or so terrible a fall.—Macaulay.

Foulon, a French Official in the time of the great Revolution. This is that same Foulon named âme damnée (Familiar demon) du Parlement; a man grown gray in treachery, in griping, projecting, intriguing and iniquity: who once, when it was objected, to some finance-scheme of his, “What will the people do?” made answer, in the fire of discussion, “The people may eat grass:” hasty words, which fly abroad irrevocable, and will send back tidings.… We are but at the 22nd of the month, hardly above a week since the Bastile fell, when it suddenly appears that old Foulon is alive; nay, that he is here, in early morning, in the streets of Paris: the extortioner, the plotter, who would make the people eat grass, and was a liar from the beginning! It is even so. The deceptive “sumptuous funeral” (of some domestic that died); the hiding-place at Vitry towards Fontainebleau, have not availed that wretched old man. Some living domestic or dependent, for none loves old Foulon, has betrayed him to the village. Merciless boors of Vitry unearth him, pounce upon him, like hell-hounds. Westward, old Infamy! to Paris, to be judged at the Hotel-de-Ville! His old head, which seventy-four years have bleached, is bare; they have tied an emblematic bundle of grass upon his back; a garland of nettles and thistles is round his neck: in this manner, led with ropes, goaded on with curses and menaces, must he, with his old limbs, sprawl forward; the pitiablest, most unpitied of all old men. Sooty Saint-Antoine, and every street, musters its crowds as he passes; the Hall of the Hôtel-de-Ville, the Place de Grève itself, will scarcely hold his escort and him. Foulon must not only be judged righteously, but judged there where he stands without delay. Appoint seven judges, ye Municipals, or seventy and seven; name them yourselves, or we will name them, but judge him. Electoral rhetoric, eloquence of Mayor Bailly, is wasted for hours, explaining the beauty of the law’s delay. Delay, and still delay!… the morning has worn itself into noon, and he is still unjudged.… “Friends,” said a person, stepping forward, “what is the use of judging this man? Has he not been judged these thirty years?” With wild yells Sansculottism clutches him in its hundred hands: he is whirled across the Place de Grève to the Lanterne (lamp-iron), which there is at the corner of the Rue de la Vannerie, pleading bitterly for life—to the deaf winds. Only with the third rope—for two ropes broke, and the quavering voice still pleaded—can he be so much as got hanged. His body is dragged through the streets; his head goes aloft upon a pike, the mouth filled with grass: amid sounds as of Tophet, from a grass-eating people. Carlyle’s French Revolution.

OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS

Two things, as herein is showed, do move the righteous unto joy. The one is, the honouring and good success of the just. When it is well with them that do well, the well-disposed multitude cannot but be inwardly glad, and outwardly testify this inward joy by signs and tokens of mirth. The other thing that moveth the well-disposed to rejoice, and even to sing (or shout) is the destruction of the wicked. There is great cause why the people of God should rejoice at the vengeance that is executed on the ungodly; for they persecute the Church, or infect many with their evil counsel and example, or draw God’s punishments on the places wherein they live. Thus did the ancient Israelities rejoice in old time, when the enemies of God were overthrown; and thus did we of late sing and triumph when the proud Popish Spaniards were drowned and confounded.… A kingdom is overthrown by the flattery, heresy, foolish counsel, and conspiracy of mischievous and ungodly persons. Thus a tongue can even build and overthrow a city.—Muffet.

The world, in despite of the native enmity of the heart, bears its testimony to consistent godliness (ch. Proverbs 16:7; Mark 6:20) … The people of God unite in the shouting occasioned by the overthrow of the wicked; not from any selfish feeling of revenge; much less from unfeeling hardness towards their fellow-sinners. But when a hindrance to the good cause is removed (ch. Proverbs 28:28; Ecclesiastes 9:18); when the justice of God against sin (2 Samuel 18:14), and his faithful preservation of His Church (Exodus 15:21; Judges 5:31) are displayed, ought not every feeling to be absorbed in a supreme interest in His glory? Ought they not to shout? (Psalms 52:6; Psalms 58:10; Revelation 18:20). The “Alleluia” of heaven is an exulting testimony to the righteous judgments of the Lord our God, hastening forward His glorious kingdom (Revelation 19:1).—Bridges.

By the good of the righteous; not “in the good” or “when it goeth well.” “By the perishing of the wicked,” not when the wicked perish. A city is very far from exulting in the good of the righteous, or in the destruction of the wicked. But “by,” or “by means of,” as the unacknowledged cause there comes the exulting and shouting. That is, a city is blest by the prosperity of righteous men. “Good.” This word cannot be properly translated. It means both good and goodness. If we say “good,” the “good of the righteous” will mean their welfare. If we say “goodness” it will mean their piety. The word in the Hebrew means both. The text to be complete must confine itself to neither. The city is not only blessed by the good that characterises the righteous, but by the good that happens to them. How glorious this becomes when “the righteous” means the Church! The wilderness and the solitary place have been glad for her. It is true of all the universe. As the history of heaven and hell, the “good of the righteous,” and “the perishing of the wicked” will breed universal benefit. It was such texts as these that moved the Papists to realise the good by actually slaughtering the wicked out of the land.… Piety is in proportion to usefulness. If a Christian does not bless his city, it is a mark against him. “Bless” means to invoke good. “The mouth of the wicked” pulls down a neighbourhood by every form of teaching. The righteous builds it, and especially by prayer.—Miller.

“The mouth of the wicked.” Whether he be a seedsman of sedition or a seducer of the people, a Sheba or a Shebna, a carnal gospeller or a godless politician, whose drift is to formalise and enervate the power of the truth, till at length they leave us a heartless and sapless religion. “One of these sinners may destroy much good” (Ecclesiastes 9:18).—Trapp.

Good men have not only God’s hand to give them good things, but godly men’s hearts to be joyful for them. When Mordecai was advanced, the city of Shushan rejoiced and was glad. When the Lord showed His great mercy on Zacharias and Elizabeth in giving them a son, their kinsfolk and neighbours came and rejoiced with them.… It is well known that righteous men will make their brothers commoners with them in their prosperity; when they are advanced, others shall not be disgraced thereby: when they are enriched, others shall not be impoverished thereby: when they are made mighty, others shall not be weakened thereby; And so it is said concerning Mordecai, that when the royal apparel was on his back, and the crown of gold on his head, that unto the Jews was come light, and joy, and gladness, and honour (Esther 8:16).… Here is instruction to them that be desirous to gain the hearts of honest men.… Many men desire to be popular, but few to be righteous.… Good liking is not gotten by pomp and power, and favour is not gained by wealth and riches, and love is not commanded by authority and dignity. These may be allured with goodness, but never compelled by violence.—Dod.

Such is the nature of righteousness, that though it cannot make all to love it, yet it maketh all to love the welfare of the righteous. Origen therefore saith, that the few righteous which were in Jerusalem were not carried into captivity for their own offences, but that the captive people might rejoice in their welfare. For, saith he, had the wicked only been carried away, and the righteous remained, the wicked had never had the comfort of returning. On the other side, such is the nature of wickedness, that though many embrace it themselves, yet they are pleased to see it destroyed in others.—Jermin.

The exultant shout of relief at a man’s death might almost wake the dead man. It is hideous to think of a choral symphony of voices, jubilant at a dead march, making the welkin ring with huzzas at death’s last feat, and welcoming it to the echo. For those tumultuous pæans have a vengeful curse in every note. They mean malediction; and they say what they mean. The bad man dead and gone is such a good riddance. The multitude account it for themselves, not for him, such a happy release. The greatest of the greater prophets of the Old Testament indites the “triumphant insultation,” of his country and his countrymen against the dead and gone king of Babylon, when that oppressor ceased.… (Isaiah 14:4). When Alexander Jannæus, desirous of a reconcilement with his people, asked them what he should do to make them quite content;—“Die!” was the response. It was the only way. The death of Ethwald, in Joanna Baillie’s tragedy, points the moral to the same bitter tale. Here are the closing lines of the drama:—

“Through all the vexed land
Let every heart bound at the joyful tidings,
Thus from his frowning height the tyrant falls
Like a dark mountain, whose interior fires,
Raging in ceaseless tumult, have devoured
Its own foundations. Sunk in sudden ruin
To the tremendous gulf, in the vast void
No friendly rock rears its opposing head
To stay dreadful crash.… The joyful hinds
Point to the traveller the hollow vale
Where once it stood.”

Jacox.