CRITICAL NOTES.—

Proverbs 18:14. Infirmity, i.e., sickness, disease of body. As in similar verses, Miller translates “a wounded spirit:” a spirit of upbraiaing. Here again, as in Proverbs 18:4, the Hebrew word ish is used for man.

MAIN HOMILETICS OF Proverbs 18:14

SICKNESS OF BODY AND WOUNDS OF SOUL

I. A man can rise above pain of body. Men who do not seek supernatural help sometimes do it. They are endowed with a natural courage which makes them scorn to be overcome by physical pain, or they are naturally very hopeful, and are enabled in some measure to look beyond the present suffering to a time of relief in the future. Or intense excitement of the mind renders them for a time at least oblivious of bodily sensations. How many illustrations of this last case we have in men who have been desperately wounded in battle, and yet have been so intensely absorbed in the terrible contest that they have seemed scarcely aware of it, and have kept their position until their strength has utterly failed. But it is pre-eminently the godly man who can “sustain” infirmity of body. It is a fact of history that godly men and women have been even joyful in spirit when suffering great bodily pain. Instances are common in which those who have been in agony of body from some terrible disease have been full of comfort in their spirits, and have borne witness that they were conscious of a sustaining power outside themselves—of supernatural help from above which enabled them to “glory in tribulation.” But this ability of human creatures to rise above bodily suffering has been most remarkably exemplified in those who have suffered because they were the servants of God—who have been witnesses for the truth of the gospel of Christ. Even women have borne the most severe bodily sufferings not only with fortitude but with exultation—lifted above their bodily pain by a vivid realisation of unseen and spiritual realities and an intense consciousness of the favour of God.

II. But a wounded spirit crushes the entire man. The spirit of the man is the man himself, his power to love, to hope, and to enjoy. When these have lost their energy, there is nothing to lift him up, and existence becomes an intolerable burden. The spirit can sustain the body under its trials, but sensual gratifications and physical comforts can do nothing towards alleviating spiritual distress. But observe:—

1. That all sorrow of heart does not crush a man. Sanctified sorrow, although it wounds the spirit, yet it only wounds it to raise it to a higher level—to make it capable of a more refined enjoyment. Bereavement, the faithlessness of friends, disappointed hopes, often deeply wound the spirit, yet men bear these wounds and often are made better and stronger by them. A sense of the favour of God and a peaceful conscience will prevent men from being overwhelmed by even very keen mental sorrow.

2. An unbearable wound of spirit can be the portion of those only who have no sense of the favour of God. So long as a man has this no pain of body or sorrow of soul can cast him down entirely, but without it he has little power to bear manfully the burdens of life, and a sense of the absence of it would be enough to crush him utterly although he had no other burdens to bear.

OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS

Spiritual sickness varies (as some diseases do in the body according to the constitution of the sick) thereafter as the soul is that hath it, whether regenerate or reprobate. The malignancy is great in both, but with far less danger in the former.

1. In the elect, this spiritual sickness is an afflicted conscience, when God will suffer us to take a deep sense of our sins, and bring us to the life of grace by the valley of death, as it were by hell gates unto heaven. There is no anguish to that of the conscience: “A wounded spirit who can bear? They that have been valiant in bearing wrongs, in forbearing delights, have yet had womanish and coward spirits in sustaining the terrors of a tumultuous conscience. If our strength were as an army, and our lands not limited save with east and west, if our meat were manna, and our garments as the ephod of Aaron; yet the afflicted conscience would refuse to be cheered with all these comforts. When God shall raise up our sins, like dust and smoke in the eyes of our souls … when He either hides His countenance from us, or beholds us with an angry look; lo, then, if any sickness be like this sickness, any calamity like the fainting soul! Many offences touch the body which extend not to the soul; but if the soul be grieved, the sympathising flesh suffers deeply with it. The blood is dried up, the marrow wasted, the flesh pined, as if the powers and pores of the body opened themselves like so many windows to discover the passions of the distressed prisoner within. It was not the sense of outward sufferings (for mere men have borne the agonies of death undaunted) but the wrestling of God’s wrath with His spirit, that drew from Christ that complaint, able to make heaven and earth stand aghast: “My soul is heavy unto death” (Matthew 26:38).… Neither is this sickness of conscience properly good in itself, nor any grace of God, but used by God as an instrument of good to His, as when by the spirit of bondage He brings us to adoption. So the needle that draws the thread through the cloth is some means to join it together.…

2. Spiritual sickness for sin befalling a reprobate soul, is final and total desperation. This is that fearful consequent which treads upon the heels of presumption. Cain’s fratricide, Judas’s treachery, presumptious, aspiring, heaven-daring sins, find this final catastrophe, to despair of the mercy of God.… As if the goodness of God, and the value of Christ’s ransom, were below his iniquity. As if the pardon of his sins would empty God’s storehouse of compassion, and leave His stock of mercy poor.… This is that sin which not only offers injury and indignity to the Lord of heaven and earth, but even breaks that league of kindness which we owe to our own flesh. To commit sin is the killing of the soul; to refuse hope of mercy is to cast it down to hell. Therefore St. Jerome affirms that Judas sinned more in despairing of his Master’s pardon than in betraying Him; since nothing can be more derogatory to the goodness of God, which He hath granted by promise and oath—two immutable witnesses—to penitent sinners than to credit the father of lies before Him.—T. Adams.

“The spirit of a man may control his sickness, but a spirit of upbraiding, who can carry that?” To give all up, and simply lie back and murmur, is bad even for worldly disorders; but Solomon derives out of it a much more profound spiritual sense. The “spirit of a man,” at least among those to whom Solomon wrote, had truth enough to save him if he would only listen. Control. The original is contain, as wine in a bottle, sickness—literally what is physical; but in this same book employed for the spiritual malady. If the soul, therefore, would lie quiet, and yield to its own light, it would be joined by what is higher, and would contain, or control its own malady; God helping, as He would, would check, and get the better of it; but “a spirit of upbraiding”—and by this is meant precisely the quarrel (chap. Proverbs 17:19) with God which has been so long discussed—is what ruins all. It is upon them that are contentious, and will not obey the truth, (Romans 2:8)—that truth being in all of them through “the invisible things” which are seen “by the things that are made” (Romans 1:20)—that the apostle denounces “tribulation and wrath, indignation and anguish.” Not that men can save themselves, but that they would save themselves under God’s influences if they did not contend with Him; that it is “rebellion” that turns the scale (Psalms 68:6); that there is light enough in every man to draw him to saving light if he would only follow it; and that on this very account it is the great sorrow of the sinner that he has this “spirit of upbraiding,” which, in the spiritual world, no moral malady “can carry.”—Miller.

St. Gregory saith by patience we possess our souls, because, while we learn to bear rule over ourselves, we begin to possess that which we are. And surely, if thou be courageously patient, whatsoever thou mayest lose yet thou enjoyest that which thou hast; or, if thou hast nothing, yet thou shalt enjoy thyself, thou shalt enjoy the comfort of thy own spirit. Whereas impatiency for anything that is lost taketh away the comfort of all that remaineth, yea, the comfort of thine own self.—Jermin.

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