Why God Values Praise

“In God will I praise His word; in the Lord will I praise His word.’’ — Psa. lv. 10.

BEFORE you can appreciate the words of any being, you require to be a partaker of his spirit. That is a principle of universal application. It is as true of every book as of the Bible. It is often said that in studying the work of any author we should be thoroughly unbiassed. That is impossible. The first condition of all criticism, as it seems to me, is that the mind of the reader should be biassed in favour of the subject. If you put a volume of poems into the hands of a critic whose taste is essentially prosaic, he will see no beauty that he can desire in it. It would be quite correct to say, “In Tennyson shall I praise Tennyson.” It is to a hundred mute inglorious Tennysons that the great

poet is indebted for his praise; and his own — satisfaction must have been the knowledge that there were so many in the world who shared his spirit. Now, the Psalmist suggests that this community of spirit is that which makes God delight in His own praise. He says, “No man could praise God unless God were in him; no man could appreciate His words unless His spirit were already a part of his life.” I read lately in an atheistic tract a sentence to this effect, “Why should the omnipotent God be so weak as to be flattered by the praise of His creatures!” He is not flattered; He is gratified. He is unconscious of any benefit to Himself; but He sees a symptom of development in His children. He feels that His solitude is broken, that kindred spirits have arisen to share His nature. What a man praises either in God or his brother is an indication of the height which he has himself attained. He may be far behind in achievement; he may be far behind in life. But his praise is the measure of him. It predicts his coming glory. It tells what he will be to-morrow. It is the primrose of his year. The cold may be still around him; his environment may be yet barren and bare. But the primrose — the putting forth of his admiration — shows that summer is on the way, and that ere long the land will be laden with fruits and flowers.

That is why the heart of the heavenly Father rejoices in the creature’s praise. It is a sign that His child is growing — growing into sympathy with a Father’s mind, growing into fellowship with a Father’s heart. God’s joy in praise is a paternal joy.

O Thou that fillest eternity with Thy glories, my praise can add nothing to Thee. When I break into raptures over Thy word, it contributes nothing to Thy name. But it contributes largely to mine. My praise is the swallow that tells of my summer. Receive the song of my swallow, O Lord! Not for itself do Thou receive it, but for the summer which it sings! I do not live wp to my praise; the world says I am an inconsistent man. But that is because the dove reaches the shore while the ark is still struggling with the waters. My dove of praise is gone out from the ark ere anything else can go out; it is the first thing that has seen the dry land appear. Receive it as it lights upon the ground! Receive it though it comes alone! It is only a voice of admiration — a cry to be like Thee, a wish to be better than I am. Yet to Thee it is a messenger of joy because a prophecy of June. Thou imputest the leafage of June to my April hours. Thou hearest but a voice crying in a wilderness; yet Thou seest Thy

Christ coming up behind it. It is the coming Christ that makes the voice of praise so dear. Thou findest Thy Spirit in my song. Thou readest Thy peace in my pean. Thou hearest Thy commandments in my cry. Thou seest Thy will in my wish. Thou discernest Thy bloom in my bud. ‘Thou beholdest Thy life in my love. The moment I say, “Thou art Divine,” Thy heart responds, “Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-jona, for flesh and blood have not revealed it unto thee, but thy Father.”