The Cure of Moral Ignorance

‘* The heavens declare the glory of God. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge. Who can understand his errors?” — Psalm xix. i, 2, 12.

What a strange assertion, of knowledge on the one hand and of ignorance on the other! Here is a claim to knowledge in a sphere where we should expect a confession of mystery; here is a confession of mystery in a region where we should look for perfect light! The Psalmist declares that he understands the heavens, but he says that he does not perceive the errors of his own soul! He has daily and nightly converse with the stars, but he hears not the voice of his own sin! Yet the stars are far away; his sin is at the door. Why should the revelation of God*s majesty precede the revelation of the disorder within himself? Why should a man be able to learn astronomy before he can learn the pervading sinfulness of his heart? It is because the vision of beauty must precede the vision of deformity. How do I learn what disorder is? It is by first learning order. I cannot know discord till I have studied harmony. No man is driven to the songs of heaven by the discordant notes of earth; he discerns the jarring notes of earth by hearing the songs of heaven. He that is born sightless cannot figure the sun, but he that can figure the sun can understand him who is born sightless. I learn my errors — my wanderings from the way, by learning that there is a way. When I find that there is an orbit for the life of every star, I see that my life has wandered.

O Lord, teach me my errors! Thou alone canst give me that knowledge. No amount of sin can do it, no contact with Satan can do it; it can only come from contact with Thee. My sight will never be offended when it meets unlovely things unless it has seen Thy beauty. Mine ear will never be fretted when it meets disharmony until it hears Thy music. Not by contemplating how badly my work is done shall I understand my errors.

I must contemplate a perfect work. Therefore it is that before all things Thou hast said, “Come unto Me.’’ Thou hast not said, “Go and study your miserable workmanship; go and see how poor it looks in retrospect.” No, Thou hast called me to contemplate the highest model — the work without a flaw. Thou hast led me first, not into the gallery of earth, but into the gallery of heaven. Thou hast fixed my earliest gaze on the perfect picture — on the supreme beauty. Instead of leading me through the miry clay. Thou hast led me through the green pastures and by the quiet waters. Thou hast made my first walk a walk round about Jerusalem. Not by the narrowness of lane and alley hast Thou taught me my limits. Thou hast showed me Thy spacious palaces — Thy house with many mansions. Thou hast made my morning view a view of the city of gold; therefore it is that at midday I have recognised my brass. I can only understand my errors by the light of heaven.