Psalms 16:3

All my delight is upon the saints that are in the earth, and upon such as excel in virtue (P..V.).

Divine love for the saints of God

On All Saints’ Day our mind seems almost to sink beneath the great and holy thoughts which come crowding in upon it, when we think of that vast multitude which no man can number, of all ages, of all nations, of all ranks of life, of all mental and bodily endowments, who, having come out of great tribulation, now rejoice in the presence of Him whom on earth they loved. The Church today is proclaiming the truth of the words of our text. But it is not the Church alone, our Lord Himself shares in this delight. He beholds the beautiful things that He has made; but the King of the heavenly Jerusalem has fairer prospects than these. There is something on earth which He sees and values. The saints for the most part live a hidden life; the world despises their aims, perhaps laughs at their frailties. They pass away, and their names are forgotten, or live only in the memory of the Church, but the Lord makes them the sum and centre of His care and love. He greatly rejoices in the work of His grace, as it displays itself in His elect. Their shortest prayer, their slightest act of self-denial He notices. He gathers them, one by one, out of the ruined mass of humanity, to be jewels in His heavenly diadem. (S. W. Skeffington, M. A.)

The saint’s ministry to his brethren

God’s goodness should make us merciful to others. It were strange indeed a soul should come out of His tender bosom with a hard uncharitable heart. Some children do not, indeed, take after their earthly parents, as Cicero’s son, who had nothing of his father but his name; but God’s children all partake of their heavenly Father’s nature. Philosophy tells us that there is no reaction from the earth to the heavens; they, indeed, shed their influences upon the lower world, which quicken and fructify it, but the earth returns none back to make the sun shine the better. David knew that his goodness extended not unto God, but this made him reach it forth to his brethren. Indeed, God has left His poor saints to receive the rents we owe unto Him for His mercies. An ingenuous guest, though his friend will take nothing for his entertainment, yet, to show his thankfulness, will give something to his servants. (William Gurnall.)

Moral distinctions

Is this an arbitrary and invidious distinction? We read of the “saints,” and the “excellent.” Are there, then, some people who are not saints, and some saints who are not excellent? The Bible does not create distinctions. If there were no Bible the earth would still be distributed into qualities, orders, classes, and the like. The Bible proceeds to a finer discrimination. It analyses honesty, it puts wisdom to the test, it searches into the credentials of faithfulness. The Bible asks, What is the motive underlying character? By “saints” understand separated men. The word “saint” is simply a moral or spiritual distinction. It involves more than is commonly understood by an honest man, or a good man, or a well-living man. It indicates of necessity a connection with the ineffably holy, the perfect, the Divine. It means, at least, an inspiration eternal, rising towards the eternity inaccessible--that is, the supreme life--that is, the life Divine. The terms “saints,” “excellent” are of a universal quality. The reference is to character, not to opinion, nor to varied ways of looking at things which cannot be positively settled. The Psalmist dwells upon the eternal quantity--character, holiness, excellence, pureness; these speak all languages, assume the hues of all climes, and under manifold outward diversity conceal an agreement subtle and indefinable as life itself. (Joseph Parker, D. D.)

The saints of God

Since the seventh century the first day of November has always been dedicated to the memory of All Saints. Such a day suggests thoughts as solemn and as needful as any which could be presented to us. We watch the procession of mankind as it winds through the long centuries of history, and we note its most striking figures. The vast mass consists of a nameless throng. To our eyes mankind is mainly divided into the eminent and the obscure, the known and the unknown. But to the eye of God, to the eyes of all spirits, it may be, the aspect of that procession is very different. To them the inch-high differences of human rank have simply no existence; for them the thistles of human loftiness have no elevation, and the paltry mole hills cast no shadow. For they know but one distinction, that of the evil and the good. We can see, on the whole, that some men have dared to be eminently good, and that others have been conspicuously, infamously bad. With unspeakable relief we turn from them to the saints of God. “In them is the healing of the world.” Do not think of the mere title “saints”; it has been given to some, at least, who have no claim to it, and it has been denied to many more who have been consummately worthy of it. On All Souls’ Day we may think not only of those whom the Church has called saints, but also of the long line of heroes of the faith in olden times who are not called saints--of the patriarchs, of Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Moses, and many more; of brave judges, glorious prophets, patriot warriors, toiling apostles; of the many martyrs who would rather die than live; of hermits who fled from the guilt and turmoil of life; of the missionaries, Paul, Columba, Benedict, Xavier, Schwartz, and a long roll call of others. Of reformers, of wise rulers, of the writers of holy and who walk with Him in white, for they are worthy. If we would comfort our hearts, strengthen good resolutions, and retain that high estimate of human nature which it is such a misfortune to lose, and which so often threatens to succumb, let us in days like these make ourselves acquainted with Christian history and biography as the antidote to the degeneracy of these worldly and evil days. From earth’s mire and darkness lift up your eyes to this galaxy of great examples. We need something to keep alive our faith in the dignity of man. I, for one, find that something, most of all, in dwelling in the life and sufferings of Christ, and next, in considering the blessed example of those who have followed Him, each bearing his own cross. They will help us by furnishing gleaming instances of pure and possible human goodness; they show us how, by true faith in Christ, men just as weak as we are, tempted as we are, yet did gloriously and conspicuously triumph over sin, the world, the flesh, and the devil, and thereby proved to us that we can do the same. See how the universal idol, selfishness, has been gloriously overcome. Pride, too, has been subdued. St. Thomas, of Aquino, was by far the greatest man of his age. One day at Bologna, a stranger arriving at his monastery asked the prior for someone to help him to get provisions and carry his basket. “Tell the first brother you meet,” said the prior. St. Thomas was walking in meditation in the cloister, and, not knowing him by sight, the stranger said to him, “Your prior bids you to follow me.” Without a word the greatest teacher of his age, the “Doctor Angelicus”--the angel of the schools, as he was called by the affection of his admirers--bowed his head, took the basket, and followed. But he was suffering from lameness, and since he was unable to keep up with the pace, the stranger rebuked him soundly as a lazy, good-for-nothing fellow, who ought to show more zeal in religious obedience. The saint meekly bore the unjust reproaches, and answered never a word. “Do you know to whom you are speaking, who you are treating in this rude way?” said the indignant citizens of Bologna, who had witnessed the scene. “That is Brother Thomas, of Aquino.” “Brother Thomas, of Aquino?” said the stranger, and, immediately throwing., himself upon his knees, he begged to be forgiven. “Nay,” said St. Thomas, “it is I who should ask forgiveness, since I have not been so active as I should have been.” And this humility, so rare in little men, was the chief characteristic of this great man. From that disciplined and noble spirit of the first man of his age all pride had been expelled. “Give me, O Lord,”--this was his daily prayer,--“a noble heart which no earthly affection may drag down.” What more would we have if, even through so deep a valley of humiliation, there still lies the path to heaven? You see a life spent in brushing clothes, and washing crockery, and sweeping floors, a life which the proud of the earth would have regarded as the very dust beneath their feet, a life spent at a clerk’s desk, a life spent at a tradesman’s counter, a life spent in a labourer’s hut, may yet be so ennobled by God’s mercy that for the sake of it a king may gladly yield his crown. Thank God there have been and are tens of thousands of holy and faithful, and therefore happy, souls, full of inward peace. Will you be one of their number? (Dean Farrar.)

In whom is all my delight.

The moral force in the world of God’s elect

The history of mankind, whether secular or religious, resolves itself ultimately into the history of a few individuals. For though the masses live, yet it is these few who determine the direction and shape the spirit of the age. The rest die and are forgotten; one epitaph would do for them all, except for two or three out of the million. Another fact, and a sadder one, is that the human race seems to tend downwards. The old Greek proverb says, and truly, “the majority are evil.” The few only are saints, the few only are heroes. There is bitter truth in David’s saying, “All men are liars”; and in Carlyle’s, that “the world is peopled by a thousand millions, mostly fools” How dreadful then would the condition of the world be were it not for God’s elect few. The deliverance of man has never been wrought by the multitude, but by the individual. See this illustrated in poetry, in philosophy, in art, in science; the leaders are a few, all the rest follow. But art and the rest will not alone save a people. History shows how along with them nations have sunk into the abyss of degradation. So will England, so will every nation, if she refuse the message of God. Of what use would the spangles of art and science be upon the funeral pall of the dying race if death were the end of all? The hope of the world lies in the recognition of, and in obedience to, the Word of God as uttered by His special messengers; and by so listening as to reflect in myriads of gleams, and to reverberate in millions of echoes, the light and the voice of inspiration. In illustration of all this glance at the moral history of the world. What drear darkness in the main prevailed from Adam to Abraham, that great hero of the faith. After him darkness again until Moses. After him till Samuel and the prophetic order. After them till Christ and the apostles. After Him and them the world gradually grew worse; Christianity itself became corrupted till St. Anthony, forsaking all, made his home in the lonely desert, to convince his generation of the infinite value of every human soul. And from his day, now and again, great saints were inspired of God from time to time,--such as Benedict I, Gregory VII, Francis of Assisi, until in the midst of another dark period the lion-hearted Luther shook the world. It is by such men the world has been kept from moral death; such seems to be the method of God’s working. Now let us note some of the lessons of this Divine method.

I. What is the secret, the sole secret of moral power? Who that reads the signs of these times can fail to see how much this age needs that secret? What was it that again and again overcame the world? Was it not faith showing itself by self-sacrifice? See it in Abraham, Moses, Samuel, and all else.

II. That the work of these saints is never permanent. There is infinite pathos in the failures of men and of institutions. Their work has perpetually to be renewed. Abraham died, and ere a century had elapsed his children were slaves. And so with all the rest.

III. Apparent failures were never absolute failures. No good man ever lives in vain. Each saint has his own Calvary. St. Telemachus was butchered in the arena, but because of his death an end was put to gladiatorial games. What a candle did Latimer and Ridley light in England through their martyrdom, and its light glows still. Then let man think, however discouraged he may be at the moral aspect of men, that a holy Christian life can never be in vain. (Dean Farrar.)