Psalms 10:5

Thy judgments are far above, out of his sight.

Man’s judgment at variance with God’s

There is an obtuseness and impenetrability that attach to the mind of man respecting the character of moral obligation that prove absolutely invincible to all his powers of meditation and research. This inability is of a moral, not of a natural kind, having its origin not in his natural constitution, but in his adventitious circumstances. The powers of the human mind receive a wrong direction. Reason turns renegade, and to escape a hated conclusion flings itself incontinently into the arms of delusion. It is thus that the stoutest intellect becomes the most impregnable. Numberless are the subterfuges, speculative as well as practical, that are continually held in play by the human mind in order to elude the embarrassment of its untoward circumstances; for there is no middle road to peace once the soul has begun to grapple with the momentous investigation. This obliquity of mind, that likes not to retain the knowledge of God, is the true and only source of all the difficulty that attaches to the reception of religious truth. Truth of this description lies no way more remote from our apprehension than any truth of natural science, till it begins to molest us with the sense of moral obligation, and to make its demands on our acquiescence in the form of duty. Men have not generally disputed much about what is virtue, their approbation of it being required only in the form of encomium. They willingly unite in applauding exemplary specimens of justice, disinterestedness, and generosity, and in the condemnation of their contraries. .. Our consciences ought not to sit so easy under the sins of our country, or even of mankind. That character in man which separates betwixt him and his Maker, and provokes the Divine judgment, also renders the Divine proceeding in judgment more obscure and unintelligible to him. Conclusion: See the indubitable equity, harmony, and consistency of the Divine administration in judgment. (H. Grey, M. A.)

The unseen avengers

On the whole and in the rough, unquestionably sin in this world does not remain unavenged. This is true when society is looked at in the mass; yet in the history of individuals it is constantly found that no such obvious sequence of crime and punishment can be traced. There are plenty of cases in which offenders against the moral law have seemed to get off scot-free. It even almost appears at times as if they were specially favoured in the struggle for existence. Is there some hidden explanation of cases of this kind? The text says, “Thy judgments are far above.” They are there, unerring in their action, unslumbering in their determination, but they are too great, too solemn and awful for the Psalmist’s sin-dulled eyes to behold. God has many ways of avenging sin. It may in reality be far worse for a man when he is left for a long while to delight in his sins, when they grow round him and in him, like some choking creeper, some deathly parasite that sucks out the vitality from that which it encircles, leaving at last only the mere semblance of life. Trace the action of these unseen avengers.

I. After the commission of downright, unmistakable sin. There are many sins of the flesh that ought to meet with open punishment from the Divine laws which they violate. Yet obviously ill deeds are often not so chastised. Take the case of secret drinking. There may be exposure. Or the habit grows more dominant. Even if its physical consequences are delayed, a degeneration of spiritual faculties sets in. It becomes increasingly difficult for such persons to see any goodness in their fellow creatures. Tell me not that sin is unavenged when the whole character becomes deteriorated, when the will becomes paralysed, when all impulses for good are rendered impotent and sterile, when blindness has come upon the eyes to all that is fair and glorious and uplifting in the world.

II. Take another instance, that of hypocrisy. The Chadbands and Pecksniffs of humanity, the religious and moral humbugs of the world, how do they fare? Are they always discovered? Hypocrisy is of various degrees. It commences in the bud by timid fear of speaking the truth, and it ends in the full-blown flower of brazen dishonesty and imposture. In this necessary development it is ever finding its dreadful reward. Here, again, the sinner may be unable to understand the doom which has fallen upon him. It is supposed that in past generations the blind fishes of subterranean lakes in America found their organs of sight not required, so nature dropped them out. They may be happy in their blindness, but who would exchange conditions with them? We cannot be untrue to what we know to be right without bringing upon ourselves a like Nemesis. The inevitable punishment of doing a false action is the increased difficulty of either doing or seeing what is true.

III. Worldliness. For the most part the consequences are obvious enough of devotion to the fancies and fashions of a luxurious, indolent society. Folk become weary and jaded. The upper-class world has, too, its seamy side. There are not often open exposures. The decorum of advancing age smooths over everything. In those cynical words, “We are all respectable after seventy.” The wrong is not done with when forgotten. What if the fires of passion and emulation are only banked in temporarily by the worn-out crust of mortality? They may be ready to flare up in another world. Anyway, their effects ever remain. All that might have been--all wasted, misused, handed over to the powers of evil! How terrible would these pitiable failures show if seen by eyes purged to discover things in their true reality! Worse thought still, may not this deplorable vision of life’s wasted opportunities be forced, branded upon the soul for ever hereafter? (G. Gardner, M. A.)

Judgments of life

In this Psalm David gives one of his emphatic descriptions of the wicked man, and the fate that awaits him. We in our day are apt to think of every bad man as partly good, and of every good man as partly bad; that character is always mingled. Hence good and bad characters do not stand out so clearly before us as they did before David and, I think I may say, as they stood out before Christ. But whilst our perception of the weakness in every man’s character is very good, David’s thought is, no doubt, the true one--that there is, after all, in every character determination for right or wrong. The wicked man is he whose face is not away from righteousness and is content with unrighteousness. Now one thing about this man David affirms. Verse 5: “Thy judgments are far above, out of his sight.” It is so. There are regions of which men never think, in which they are being judged every day. A man’s life depends much upon the judgments passed upon him. And if he be content with the lower judgments` relating to his earthly condition, be will pass by all the higher ones, and which are judging all his life. In the heavens there is a long series of thrones, growing whiter and whiter, until the great white throne stands above them all. And the richness and sacredness of a man’s life depend on his consciousness of these judgments. The condemnation of the wicked is that he has no such consciousness that God’s judgments are “out of his sight.” How many of us live in the lower judgments--that of pleasure, or profit, or reputation. And all the time there tower above us these great judgment seats of God. Think of some of them.

I. The universe. As to whether we have found or are finding our own true place in it. There is such place. Are we filling it?

II. Absolute righteousness. That calm abstraction which we call the right, which makes itself known so really in all the operations of the world. It casts us aside for our perversity or it takes us into its embrace.

III. All the pure and noble men. They are forever judging us, not malignantly condemning us, but deciding as each one of us comes into their presence, whether there is any use in us. And above all there is--

IV. The judgment of God. He, knowing us altogether, is judging whether we are capable of receiving Him. He ever seeking us, and we ever either inviting or rejecting His love. That love which beats at the door of our nature is judging us, the judgment of the soul being in the refusal of the offer of God. How dreadful, then, to live with all these judgments out of our sight. Sometimes you see a man, once content, now full of discontent. The world satisfies him no more. He is seeking the higher judgments. Jesus ever sought the judgment of God--to please Him. (Phillips Brooks, D. D.)