Wit and Humor of the Bible: A Literary Study

In her essay on Heine, George Eliot writes: “Every one who has had the opportunity of making the comparison, will remember that the effect produced on him by some witticisms is closely akin to the effect produced on him by subtle reasoning which lays open a fallacy or absurdity; and there are persons whose delight in such reasoning always manifests itself in laughter. This affinity of wit with ratiocination is the more obvious in proportion as the species of wit is higher and deals less with words and with superficialities than with the essential qualities of things. Some of Dr. Johnson’s most admirable witticisms consist in the suggestion of an analogy which immediately exposes the absurdity of an action or proposition; and it is only their ingenuity, condensation and instantaneousness which lift them from reasoning into wit.” The opinion of George Eliot has been shared by others. Pitt declared that “all wit is true reasoning,” and Rogers says that “wit is truth.” A French writer has observed that “reason needs to be armed with the terrible epigram.” And even solemn John Milton writes of Plato’s dialogues, “There is scarce one of them, especially wherein some notable sophister lies sweating and turmoiling under the inevitable and merciless dilemmas of Socrates, but he that reads, were it Saturn himself, would be robbed of more than a smile.”

There are in literature abundant examples of the condensed logic of wit,—the logic that exposes a fallacy, answers an objection and demolishes an argument, without resorting to major and minor premise and formal conclusion. One or two of these may pave the way to the main purpose of this chapter. “Where was your Protestant Church before Luther?” asked a Catholic of Wilkes. “Did you wash your face this morning?” said Wilkes. “I did, sir.” “Where was your face before you washed it?” The logic of wit as employed by Dr. Johnson, is referred to by George Eliot. On one occasion it was debated whether a clergyman who had five years before been guilty of some grave sin should be reinstated. Johnson inquired whether the man had repented. It was admitted that he had. “Then,” said Johnson, “if he has repented, is he not good enough to go to heaven?” “Certainly.” “Why, sir, then there is no objection. A man who is good enough to go to heaven is good enough to be a clergyman.” Johnson denounced Lord Bolingbroke in the following immortal analogy: “Sir, he was a scoundrel and a coward; a scoundrel for charging a blunderbuss against religion and morality, a coward because he had not resolution enough to fire it off himself, but left half-a-crown to a beggarly Scotchman to draw the trigger after his death.”

A certain clergyman who had been addicted to bawling and roaring in the pulpit said, “I once thought it was the thunder that killed, and know now that it is the lightning that does the execution. I mean to thunder less and lighten more.” Sir Thomas Overbury punctures certain pretensions thus: “The man who has not anything to boast of but his illustrious ancestors, is like a potato—the only good belonging to him is underground.” Thompson, of the Westminster Review, defended the Radicals against the attacks of the Whigs in this manner: “Noah was a Radical when, hearing the world was to be drowned, he went about such a commonsense proceeding as making for himself a ship to swim in. An antediluvian Whig would have laid together half-a-dozen sticks for an ark and called it a ‘virtual representation.’”

The principle that underlies these instances is obvious. The form may vary but in every case there is an analogy that serves all the purposes of formal logic,—“an analogy which immediately exposes the absurdity of an action or proposition.” The writers of the Bible understood and employed the same principle.

I.

One of the best examples of its use is found in Nathan’s parable. He goes to David and tells him: “There were two men in our city; the one rich, the other poor. The rich man had exceeding many flocks and herds; but the poor man had nothing save one little ewe lamb, which he had brought and nourished up; and it grew up together with him and with his children; and it did eat of his own meat and drank of his own cup, and lay in his bosom, and was unto him as a daughter. And there came a traveller unto the rich man, and he spared to take of his own flock and of his own herd to dress it for the wayfaring man that was come unto him; but took the poor man’s lamb and dressed it for the man that was come unto him.” Such an action is so atrocious that it kindles David’s wrath. He little suspects the purpose of the wily prophet. “As the Lord liveth,” he cries, “the man that hath done this thing shall surely die! And he shall restore the lamb four-fold because he did this thing, and because he had no pity.” Beware, David, beware! This Nestor-prophet, this Nathan of the subtle wit and keen-edged tongue hath digged a pit for thee and thou hast fallen into it. Swiftly the prophet smites the bewildered king with the conclusion, “Thou art the man!” Could a volume of reasoning have so impressed David with the enormity of his crime as this simple “analogy” of Nathan?

A similar instance is found in the first book of Kings. Ahab the king of Israel had allowed the Syrian general, Ben-hadad, to escape. One of the prophets, determined to rebuke him, disguised himself and sat by the wayside, waiting until the king should pass by. “And as the king passed by, he cried unto the king and said: Thy servant went out into the midst of the battle, and behold a man turned aside and brought a man unto me and said, Keep this man; if by any means he be missing, then shall thy life be for his life or else thou shalt pay a talent of silver. And as thy servant was busy here and there he was gone.” Ahab does not suspect the snare of the prophet. What would my lord, the king, decide? Shall thy servant pay the forfeit? “And the king of Israel said unto him, So shall thy judgment be; thyself hath decided it.” And he made haste, removed his disguise, and said to the king: “Thus saith the Lord: Because thou hast let go out of thine hand a man whom I had appointed to utter destruction, therefore thy life shall go for his life, and thy people for his people.” Ahab has judged himself. No wonder he was vexed. “And the king of Israel went to the house heavy and displeased.” Nothing so disconcerts one as the recoil of his own logic.

Let us place side by side with these illustrations one or two pieces of the same kind of reasoning from Shakespeare. The Court Fool endeavors to show Lear his own pitiful lack of wisdom in giving away his kingdom to his daughters:—

Upon another occasion the following dialogue occurs:—

Lear is so stung with the sense of his folly by these “analogies” of his jester that he exclaims in rage and bitterness, “I shall forget my nature!” It is the argument of Nathan, “Thou art the man.”

Upon the same principle, but in a different way, the Psalmist reasons with those who “slay the widow and the stranger and murder the fatherless,” and who say, “The Lord shall not see, neither shall the God of Jacob regard it.” Thus he argues: “Understand, ye brutish among the people; and ye fools, when will ye be wise? He that planted the ear, shall he not hear? he that formed the eye, shall he not see?”

Under this head must we also place the judgment of Solomon, when the two women came before him, each claiming the living child. “Then said the king, The one saith, This is my son that liveth and thy son is dead; and the other saith, Nay; but thy son is the dead and mine is the living one. And the king said, Bring me a sword. And they brought a sword before the king. And the king said, Divide the living child in two and give half to one and half to the other. Then spoke the woman whose the living child was unto the king, for her heart yearned upon her son, and she said, O my Lord, give her the living child and in no wise slay it. But the other said, Let it be neither thine nor mine, but divide it. Then the king answered and said, Give her (the first) the living child, and in no wise slay it; she is the mother thereof.” Solomon had to use a sharp argument, but he settled the controversy.

II.

The “suggestion of an analogy that immediately exposes the absurdity of an action or proposition,” was the favorite method of argument with Jesus.

He spun no metaphysical cobwebs, he used no long chains of linked propositions; it is no irreverence to say that his quick wit was his main reliance. In a sentence or two, with a simple, homely figure, he reduced to an absurdity the conduct he censured and the proposition he opposed.

On one occasion he was asked, “Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath day?” “What man shall there be among you,” he answered, “that shall have one sheep, and if it fall into a pit on the Sabbath day, will he not lay hold on it and bring it out? How much more, then, is a man better than a sheep? Wherefore it is lawful to do well on the Sabbath day.”

At another time the same subject came up. Because Jesus had healed on the Sabbath day, the ruler of the synagogue was filled with indignation and made a very grotesque spectacle of himself. He stormed, scolded, and roared to the people, “There are six days in which men ought to work; in them therefore come and be healed, and not on the Sabbath day.” Jesus answered: “Thou hypocrite, doth not each one of you on the Sabbath loose his ox or his ass from the stall and lead him away to watering? And ought not this woman, being a daughter of Abraham, whom Satan hath bound, lo, these eighteen years, be loosed from this bond on the Sabbath day?” The indignant ruler had to smother his wrath. “And when he (Jesus) had said these things, all his adversaries were ashamed.” The people enjoyed their confusion, and evidently applauded the sharp-witted young prophet who had silenced the fault-finding tongues of the rulers. “All the people rejoiced for the glorious things that were done by him!”

The Scribes and Pharisees were once murmuring and complaining that he mingled with publicans and sinners, and even condescended to eat with them. “And Jesus answering said unto them, They that are whole need not a physician, but they that are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance!”

When the Pharisees and Sadducees desired that he would show them a sign from heaven, he answered and said unto them, “When it is evening, ye say that it will be fair weather for the sky is red. And in the morning, It will be foul weather to-day; for the sky is red and lowering. O, ye hypocrites, ye can discern the face of the sky; but can ye not discern the signs of the times?” He uses essentially the same argument for a similar request: “When ye see a cloud rise out of the West, straightway ye say, There cometh a shower, and so it is. And when ye see the South wind blow, ye say, There will be heat, and it cometh to pass. Ye hypocrites, ye can discern the face of the sky and of the earth; but how is it that ye do not discern this time?” Says Geike, “With biting irony, he turned on them in a few brief, incisive sentences. * * * An evil and adulterous generation seeks after a sign of the approach of the Kingdom of God, while it is blind to the signs around that the Messiah must come, if the nation is not to perish.”

In a similar manner he shows how ridiculous are the doubts of those who fear that God will not answer prayer. “If a son ask bread of any of you that is a father, will ye give him a stone?” How this must have arrested the attention of his auditors; how they began to listen, curious to know what was coming next. “Or if he ask a fish, will he for a fish give him a serpent?” Now they exchange glances as much as to say, “No, no; surely we would not do that!” But only for a moment. The expectant faces are again turned upon the Great Teacher. “Or if he shall ask an egg, will he offer him a scorpion?” “No, no!” and now they are eager for the conclusion: “If ye then being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him?” It is the climax of absurdity for you to think that you are better than God, and will do more for your children than the Great Father will do for his children!

The disciples of Jesus came to tell him that the Pharisees are offended at some of his sayings. His only reply is, “Let them alone; they be blind leaders of the blind. And if the blind lead the blind, both shall fall into the ditch.”

When he charges the Pharisees with tithing mint, anise, and cummin, while neglecting judgment, mercy and faith, he stamps their conduct with an “analogy” that makes them ludicrous forever, “Ye blind guides which strain out a gnat and swallow a camel.”

At dinner, he was rebuked by his host for permitting a penitent woman to wash his feet with her tears and wipe them with the hairs of her head. “Simon,” calmly returned the guest, “I have somewhat to say to thee.” “Master, Say on.” Jesus then proceeds to impale him upon the following question: “There was a certain creditor which had two debtors; the one owed him five hundred pence, the other fifty. And when they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me, therefore, which of them will love him most?” Simon understands whither the question tends, and slowly and reluctantly comes his answer: “I—suppose—that—he—to—whom—he—forgave most.” “Thou hast rightly judged.” Yes, Simon, but thou hast condemned thyself and justified the woman.

The story of the vineyard and its application are similar to Nathan’s parable. “There was a certain householder which planted a vineyard, and hedged it round about and digged a wine-press in it, and built a tower, and let it out to husbandmen, and went into a far country. And when the time of the fruit drew near, he sent his servants to the husbandmen, that they might receive the fruits of it. And the husbandmen took his servants, and beat one, and killed another, and stoned another. Again he sent other servants, more than the first; and they did unto them likewise. But last of all, he sent unto them his Son; saying, They will reverence my Son. But when the husbandmen saw the Son, they said among themselves, This is the heir; come, let us kill him, and let us seize on the inheritance. And they caught him and cast him out of the vineyard, and slew him.”

This is the story. Jesus turns to the Pharisees: “When the Lord, therefore, of the vineyard cometh, what will he do unto these husbandmen?” Priests and Pharisees are moved with indignation. This is horrible; it almost exceeds belief. Those husbandmen were monsters of ingratitude and wickedness! The Pharisees answer: “He will miserably destroy those wicked men, and will let out his vineyard unto other husbandmen, which shall render him the fruits in their seasons.”

Fatal answer for you, O Scribes and Pharisees! “Therefore I say unto you, the Kingdom of God shall be taken from YOU, and given to a nation bringing forth the fruits thereof.” There is a touch of humor in Matthew’s description of the manner in which the real object of this story dawned upon the minds of the hearers. “And when the Pharisees had heard his parable, they perceived that he spake of them.” Are we not irresistibly reminded of Falstaff, when the fairies in the forest turned out to be flesh and blood, “I do begin to perceive that I am made an ass?” Do we not feel about many of these condensed arguments of Jesus, as Milton did about the “sophist sweating and turmoiling under the inevitable and merciless dilemmas of Socrates,” that “he who reads, were it Saturn himself, would be robbed of more than a smile?”

Let us add by way of comparison, a passage from the Athenian Master. Here is a fragment of dialogue upon the enslaving power of money.

“Come, now, and let us reason with the unjust who is not intentionally in error. ‘Sweet sir,’ we will say to him, ‘what think you of things esteemed noble and ignoble? Is not the noble that which subjects the beast to the man, or rather to the god in man? and the ignoble that which subjects the man to the beast?’ He can hardly avoid saying Yes,—can he now?”

“Not if he has any regard for my opinion.”

“But if he admit this, we may ask him another question,—How would a man profit if he received gold and silver on condition that he was to enslave the noblest part of him to the worst? Who can imagine that a man who sold his son or daughter into slavery for money, especially if he sold them into the hands of fierce and evil men, would be the gainer, however large might be the sum which he received? And will any one say that he is not a miserable caitiff who sells his own divine being to that which is most atheistical and detestable, and has no pity?”

This selection will enable us to see that the method commonly used by Socrates was essentially the method that Jesus so frequently employed.

III.

When we pass on to other portions of the New Testament, we find examples of the same kind of reasoning in James and Paul.

Most admirably does James show the futility of faith without works. “What shall it profit, my brethren, though a man say he hath faith and hath not works? Can faith save him? If a brother and sister be naked and destitute of daily food, and one of you say unto them, Depart in peace, be ye warmed and filled; notwithstanding ye give them not those things which are needful to the body, what doth it profit? Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone.”

The class of people referred to by James are aptly described by Fielding in the character of Peter Pounce. “Sir,” said Adams, “my definition of charity is a generous disposition to relieve the distressed.” “There is something in that definition,” answered Peter, “which I like well enough; it is, as you say, a disposition to do it, and does not so much consist in the act as in the disposition to do it. But, alas! Mr. Adams, who are meant by the distressed? Believe me, the distresses of mankind are mostly imaginary, and it would be rather folly than goodness to relieve them.” “Sure, sir,” replied Adams, “hunger and thirst, cold and nakedness, and other distresses which attend the poor, can never be said to be imaginary evils.” “How can any man complain of hunger,” said Peter, “in a country where such excellent salads are to be gathered in almost every field? or of thirst, where every river and stream produce such delicious potations? And as for cold and nakedness, they are evils introduced by luxury and custom. A man naturally wants clothes no more than a horse or any other animal; and there are whole nations who go without them.” Peter Pounce would have said to the “brother or sister naked and destitute of daily food,” “Depart in peace; be ye warmed and filled.”

The declaration of James that “faith without works is dead,” is illustrated in the sayings of others also:

Equally admirable is that comparison of Paul in which he likens the Church to the human body and shows the folly of jealousy and schism: “If the foot shall say, Because I am not the hand, I am not of the body; is it therefore not of the body? If the whole body were an eye, where were the hearing? If the whole were hearing, where were the smelling?”

Very pleasantly, but very effectually, does he remind those who professed to “speak with tongues” a sort of supernatural language, in the early Christian assemblies, that it was “better to speak five words with the understanding than ten thousand words in an unknown tongue.” An illustration serves his purpose. “Even things without life, giving sound, whether pipe or harp, except they give a distinction in sound, how shall it be known what is piped or harped? For if the trumpet give an uncertain sound, who shall prepare himself for battle? So likewise ye, except ye utter by the tongue words easy to be understood, how shall it be known what is spoken? for ye shall speak into the air.”

Paul maintains the right of those who establish and teach churches, to be supported by those churches. It was a right upon which he did not always insist in his own case; but he fought for it as a great principle. “Mine answer to them that do examine me is this: Have we not the power (the right) to eat and drink?” The objector would admit this. Very well! “Who goeth a warfare any time at his own charges? Who planteth a vineyard and eateth not of the fruit thereof? or who feedeth a flock, and eateth not of the milk of the flock? * * * If we have sown unto you in spiritual things, is it a great thing if we shall reap of your carnal things? * * * Do ye not know that they which minister about holy things live of the things of the temple? They which wait at the altar are partakers with the altar? Even so hath the Lord ordained that they which preach the gospel should live of the gospel.” There is no gainsaying this argument. The “analogy” is unanswerable.

Already once or twice in this chapter, reference has been made to Socrates and his method. Much of the following passage would apply equally well to Jesus or James or Paul: “He generally begins with some question, apparently so simple, so stupidly simple, and at such a distance from the field of discussion, that his opponent often hesitates whether most to admire the docility or wonder at the stupidity of the querist, and with a complacent smile, half of pity, half of contempt, promptly replies. Other questions succeed faster and faster, more and more difficult, and gradually approaching, in one long spiral of interrogations, the central position in which the unhappy sophist’s argument stands. He now finds it impossible to escape, and confounded, perplexed and irritated, discovers that he is compelled to admit some palpable contradiction to his original assertions, and this too by means of those simple and innocent premises which he had so unsuspectingly granted. He feels himself within the coils of a great logical boa-constrictor who binds his folds together tighter and tighter till the poor sophist is absolutely strangled.”

VIII. THE USE OF RIDICULE IN THE OLD TESTAMENT.

“Wisdom crieth without; she uttereth her voice in the streets; she crieth in the chief place of concourse, in the openings of the gates; in the city she uttereth her words, saying, How long ye simple ones will ye love simplicity? And the scorners delight in their scorning, and fools hate knowledge? Turn you at my reproof!”—Solomon.

THE USE OF RIDICULE IN THE OLD TESTAMENT.

In the Bible, the elements of wit and humor are effectively employed in dealing with the sins of men. Evil doing, in its various motives and manifestations, is denounced, rendered repulsive, made ghastly and terrible, and when everything else has been done, it is exhibited as grotesque and ludicrous. Sin is the great absurdity of the universe. Were it not so tragic, it would shake the very heavens with laughter.

One of the old English poets has these lines:—

“He who does not tremble at the sword,
Who quails not with his head upon the block,
Turn but a jest against him, loses heart;
The shafts of wit slip thro’ the stoutest mail.
There is no man alive that can live down
The inextinguishable laughter of mankind.”

With this fact the writers of the Bible were quite as well acquainted as are the writers of modern times. They took advantage of it for the same purpose.

“Of this we may be sure,” says Hazlitt, “that ridicule fastens on the vulnerable points of a cause, and finds out the weak sides of an argument; if those who resort to it sometimes rely too much on its success, those who are chiefly annoyed by it almost always are so with reason, and can not be too much upon their guard against deserving it.”

Into hearts impervious to all else, the writers of the Bible drove the javelins of ridicule.

The Sluggard.

If anything could make a lazy man feel uncomfortable, it would be such thorns as those Solomon has planted in his pillow:—

“I went by the field of the slothful,
And by the vineyard of the man void of understanding;
And lo! it was all grown over with thorns,
The face thereof was covered with nettles,
And the stone wall thereof was broken down.
Then I beheld and considered well,
I saw and received instruction:
‘A little sleep, a little slumber,
A little folding of the hands to sleep.’
So shall thy poverty come as a robber,
And thy want as an armed man.
*****
How long wilt thou sleep, O sluggard,
When wilt thou rouse thee out of thy sleep?”

The Unfaithful Friend.

If anything could make an unfaithful and deceitful friend, one who professes much in times of prosperity and performs nothing in times of need, ashamed of himself, it would be such a comparison as we find in the book of Job:—

“My brethren are deceitful, like the brook
As the channel of brooks that pass away,
They become turbid from ice,
The snow hides itself in them.
At the time they are poured off, they fail;
When it is hot they are consumed from their place.
The caravans along their way turn aside;
They go up into the wastes and perish.
The caravans of Tema looked,
The companies of Sheba hoped for them;
They were ashamed that they had trusted,
They came thither and were confounded.”

The friends of Job were like streams in the early spring, when melting ice and snow filled their channels, and the waters were not needed; but in the heat of summer, when fainting caravans looked for refreshment, dry and dusty.

The Drunkard.

If anything could move a drunkard to forswear his cups and lead a sober life, it would be such a sarcastic description of him as that which follows:—

“Who hath woe? Who hath sorrow? Who hath contention?
Who hath complaining? Who hath wounds without cause?
Who hath redness of eyes?
They that tarry long at the wine,
They that go to try mixed wine.
*****
Thine eyes shall behold strange things,
And thy heart shall utter froward things,
Yea thou shalt be as he that lieth down in the midst of the sea,
Or as he that lieth upon the top of a mast.”

The poem closes with a terrible thrust. After the folly of the drunkard has been described, his physical and mental condition pointed out—the red eyes, the strange things seen in delirium, the incoherent babbling, the unsteady gait, the surrounding perils,—the devotee of strong drink is made to exclaim, “When shall I awake? I will seek it yet again!” Knowing its effects, suffering in mind and body from his potations, such is the incorrigible stupidity of the wine-bibber that he no sooner wakens from his drunken slumber than he goes forth to seek again the source of his wretchedness!

The Idolater.

Nowhere is the use of ridicule by the writers of the Old Testament displayed to better advantage than in their treatment of idolatry. Against this sin they brought to bear the most potent weapons of their wit. None of the resources of expression were left untried. Witness the withering irony with which Elijah mocked the frantic priests of Baal: “And it came to pass that at noon Elijah mocked them and said, Cry aloud, for he is a god; either he is talking, or he is pursuing, or he is in a journey, or peradventure he sleepeth and must be awaked.” No finer bit of irony can be found in any literature. Indeed, we may regard it as the most perfect specimen extant of this species of wit.

Jeremiah exclaims, “As the thief is ashamed when he is found, so is the house of Israel ashamed; they, their kings, their princes and their priests, and their prophets, saying to a stock, Thou art my father, and to a stone, Thou hast brought me forth.”

The Psalmist thus speaks of the gods of the heathen:

“They have mouths, but they speak not;
Eyes have they, but they see not;
Noses have they, but they smell not;
They have hands, but they handle not;
Feet have they, but they walk not;
Neither speak they thro’ their throat.”

Having thus described the senselessness and impotence of the gods of the heathen, he adds:

“They that make them are like unto them,
So is everyone that trusteth in them.”

In a similar vein Jeremiah ridicules the idols: “For the customs of the people are vain; for one cutteth a tree out of the forest, the work of the hands of the workman, with the axe. They deck it with silver and with gold; they fasten it with nails and with hammers that it move not. They are upright as the palm tree, but speak not; they must needs be borne, because they can not go. Be not afraid of them; for they can not do evil, neither also is it in them to do good. * * * The stock is a doctrine of vanities.”

Isaiah satirizes the idolaters in this fashion: “They shall be turned back, they shall be greatly ashamed that trust in graven images, they that say to the molten images, Ye are our gods. Hear ye deaf, and look ye blind that ye may see. Who is blind but my servant? or deaf as my messenger that I sent? Who is blind as he that is perfect (in his own estimation), and blind as is the Lord’s servant? Seeing many things, but thou observest not; opening the ears, but he heareth not. * * * Who among you will give ear to this and hearken and hear for time to come?”

Ezekiel declares that, on account of their idolatries, the people have become as worthless as a withered vine. Nothing useful can be made out of it. It is only fit for the fire. “What is the vine tree more than any tree, or than a branch which is among the trees of the forest? Shall wood be taken thereof to do any work? or will men take a pin of it to hang any vessel thereon? Behold it is cast into the fire for fuel; the fire devoureth both the ends of it, and the midst of it is burned. Is it meet for any work? Behold, when it was whole, it was meet for no work; how much less shall it be meet yet for any work, when the fire hath devoured it, and it is burned? Therefore, thus saith the Lord God: As the vine tree among the trees of the forest, which I have given to the fire for fuel, so will I give the inhabitants of Jerusalem.”

There is an elaborate piece of sarcasm in the forty-fourth chapter of Isaiah: “He heweth him down cedars, and taketh the cypress and the oak which he strengtheneth for himself among the trees of the forest; he planteth an ash and the rain doth nourish it. Then shall it be for a man to burn; for he will take thereof and warm himself; yea, he kindleth it and baketh bread.” The tree which this idolater takes has grown up as any other tree, and after it is cut down, it is devoted to the same ordinary uses. Yet out of that very tree, “he maketh a god and worshippeth it; he maketh a graven image, and falleth down thereto.”

The prophet repeats and amplifies, “He burneth part thereof in the fire; with part thereof he eateth flesh, he roasteth roast and is satisfied; yea, he warmeth himself and saith, Aha, I am warm, I have seen the fire; and the residue thereof he maketh a god, even his graven image; he falleth down unto it and worshippeth it, and prayeth unto it and saith, Deliver me, for thou art my God.”

Then he concludes: “And none considereth in his heart, neither is there knowledge nor understanding to say, I have burned part of it in the fire; yea, also I have baked bread upon the coals thereof; I have roasted flesh and eaten it; and shall I make the residue thereof an abomination? Shall I fall down to the stock of a tree?” The idolater does not see, does not “consider” what an abject simpleton he is to make a god out of the same material with which he bakes bread and roasts meat. It is as if the prophet should say, “What sort of a god is that, O Israel, with which you do your broiling and baking?”

Robert South comments on this passage: “With one part he furnishes his chimney, with the other his chapel. A strange thing that the fire must consume this part and burn incense to that! As if there were more divinity in one end of the stick than in the other; or as if it could be painted and graven omnipotent, or the nails and hammer could give it an apotheosis.”

The fatalistic excuse which the people make for their idolatries and other sins, is thus disposed of by Jeremiah: “Behold ye trust in lying words that can not profit. Will ye steal, murder, and commit adultery, and swear falsely, and burn incense unto Baal, and walk after other gods whom ye know not; and come and stand before me in this house which is called by my name, and say, We are delivered to do all these abominations? Is this house which is called by my name become a den of robbers in your eyes?”

Refuges of Lies.

Isaiah charges the rulers of the people with forsaking the word of the Lord, and substituting for his truth false maxims and iniquitous precepts. They refuse to obey the divine commands, and lead their subjects also into rebellion. They have adopted other rules of life than those delivered by the prophets of Jehovah,—other national policy than that promulgated from above. In their overweening pride and self-confidence, they look with disdain upon the requirements of God. Isaiah represents them as saying, “We have made a covenant with death, and with hell are we at agreement; when the overflowing scourge shall pass through, it shall not come unto us; for we have made lies our refuge, and under falsehood have we hid ourselves.” But the prophet warns them that their fancied security shall be broken up. “Judgment also will I lay to the line and righteousness to the plummet; and the hail shall sweep away the refuge of lies, and the waters shall overflow the hiding-place. And your covenant with death shall be disannuled, and your agreement with hell shall not stand. When the overflowing scourge shall pass through, then ye shall be trodden down by it.” He pauses a moment, after this strain of invective, and then sarcastically describes the insufficiency of their refuges by another figure, ludicrous enough, that of a man trying to stretch himself upon too short a bed, and to cover himself with too narrow a blanket. “For the bed is shorter than that a man can stretch himself on it; and the covering narrower than that he can wrap himself in it.”

False Prophets.

Ezekiel tells us that the word of the Lord came to him, saying, “Son of Man, prophesy against the prophets of Israel that prophesy, and say unto them that prophesy out of their own hearts, Hear ye the word of the Lord. Thus saith the Lord God: Woe unto the foolish prophets that follow their own spirit and have seen nothing. O Israel, thy prophets are like the foxes in the desert. * * * They have seen vanity and lying divination, saying, The Lord saith; and the Lord hath not sent them.” These prophets were endeavoring to soothe the people, to cover up their sins, to dissipate their fears of retribution. “They have seduced my people, saying, peace, when there is no peace.” Then Ezekiel describes their work. They are like foolish masons who build a wall with mortar that will not hold the stones together,—“untempered mortar!” Can such work last? Can such a structure stand? “Say unto them which daub it with untempered mortar that it shall fall. There shall be an overflowing shower; and ye, O great hail-stones, shall fall; and a stormy wind shall rend it. Lo! when the wall is fallen, shall it not be said unto you, Where is the daubing wherewith ye have daubed it?” Did ye not boast of your mortar? Did ye not promise the people that it would hold? Alas for you, O prophets! Alas for your work! “The wall is no more, neither they that daubed it; to wit, the prophets of Israel which prophesy concerning Jerusalem, and which see visions of peace for her, and there is no peace, saith the Lord.”

Most contemptuously does Isaiah speak of the false prophets: “The Lord will cut off from Israel, head and tail, branch and root, in one day. The ancient and honorable, he is the head; and the prophet that teacheth lies, he is the tail.”

The King of Assyria.

Isaiah ridicules the high and mighty pretensions of the King of Assyria. That monarch boasts of his achievements. He takes the credit of all to himself. He wears the glory alone. “By the strength of my own hand, I have done it, and by my wisdom; for I am prudent; and I have removed the bounds of the people, and have robbed their treasures, and I have put down the inhabitants like a valiant man.” Falstaff could not proclaim his own prowess, in more bombastic style. “I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword with a dozen of them two hours together. I have ’scaped by miracle: I am eight times thrust through the doublet; four through the hose; my buckler cut through and through; my sword hacked like a handsaw. I never dealt better since I was a man.” Now let the Assyrian resume his parable: “And my hand hath found as a nest the riches of the people; and as one gathereth eggs that are left, have I gathered all the earth; and there was none that moved the wing, or opened the mouth, or peeped.” Falstaff will match him again: “There is not a dangerous action can peep out his head, but I am thrust upon it. Well, I can not last for ever; but it was always yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing, to make it too common. * * * I would to God my name were not so terrible to the enemy as it is!”

The prophet, after allowing the Assyrian to sound his brazen trumpet, turns upon him, and sarcastically reminds him that he is simply a tool, a rod, a staff, in the hands of the Lord, and that he has of himself accomplished nothing: “Shall the axe boast itself against him that heweth therewith? or shall the saw magnify itself against him that shaketh it? as if the rod should shake itself against them that lift it up, or as if the staff should lift itself up as if it were no wood!”

The King of Babylon.

One of the most powerful passages of invective in any literature is that in which Isaiah pictures the fall of the King of Babylon.

He begins—“How hath the oppressor ceased!” Then he sets forth the joy of the earth itself over the discomfiture of him who “smote the people in wrath with a continual stroke.” All creation is glad. “The whole earth is at rest and is quiet; they break forth into singing. Yea, the fir-trees rejoice at thee, and the cedars of Lebanon, saying, Since thou art laid down, no feller is come up against us.” This is the state of things on earth.

There is commotion in the lower world, there is mockery of the humiliated monarch as he descends among the shades. “Hell from beneath is moved for thee to meet thee at thy coming; it stirreth up the dead for thee, even all the chief ones of the earth; it hath raised up from their thrones all the kings of the nations.”

The shadowy, ghostly company gather about the fallen potentate and taunt him: “Art thou also become weak as we? Art thou become like unto us? Thy pomp is brought down to the grave, and the noise of thy viols; the worm is spread under thee, and the worms cover thee. How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! how art thou cut down to the ground which did weaken the nations! For thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God: I will be like the Most High! Yet thou shalt be brought down to hell, to the sides of the pit. They that see thee shall narrowly look upon thee and consider thee, saying, Is this the man that made the earth to tremble, that did shake kingdoms, that made the world as a wilderness, and destroyed the cities thereof?”

Then the prophet concludes: “All the kings of the nations, even all of them, lie in glory, every one in his own house. But thou art cast out of thy grave like an abominable branch, and as the raiment of those that are slain, thrust through with a sword, that go down to the stones of the pit, as a carcass trodden under feet!”

It is truthfully remarked that “keen thrusts and tingling ironies will rouse the slumbering, startle the stolid, shame the profligate, and set the thoughtless to thinking. While it is true that ridicule is not the test of truth, it is equally certain that it is only by ridicule that many dull-witted and sin-steeped persons can be made to see and feel the truth. It would be well for mankind in general, if all could be made to feel that wickedness is as contemptible as it is hateful. There is a stupidity in sin, a thick, rhinoceros skin of insensibility, which only the feather-winged arrows of wit can pierce. Iniquity has a pachydermatous hide, and can feel only when coals of fiery ridicule are laid upon its back, and blown by the breath of laughter.”

IX. THE USE OF RIDICULE IN THE NEW TESTAMENT.

“If our Savior himself never laughed, it is difficult to believe that the bystanders did not laugh, or at least smile, when he tore the mask from the hypocritical pharisees who laid heavy burdens on men’s shoulders which they themselves would not move with their fingers, and devoured widows’ houses, even while for a pretence they made long prayers.”—Matthews.

THE USE OF RIDICULE IN THE NEW TESTAMENT.

“Rebuke them sharply, that they may be sound in the faith.”—Paul.

The writers of the Old Testament who used the glittering lances of wit against the foes of truth and righteousness, had worthy successors in evangelists and apostles, and in Jesus himself. These men were indignant at hypocrisy and wrong-doing; they looked with scorn upon the swelling pretensions of the religious leaders; they expostulated with affectionate earnestness and severity with their own brethren who suffered themselves to be led astray. Indignation is not necessarily wrong or unchristian. The faculty of indignation is an essential part of human nature, and when aroused against evil its operations are beneficent. It in no wise diminishes the reverence we feel for Jesus, that he made a scourge of cords and lashed the traders and money-changers from the temple!

Ruskin says, “There is no black horse in the chariot of the soul. One of the driver’s worst faults is starving his horses; another is not breaking them early enough; but they are all good. Take, for example, one usually thought of as wholly evil—that of anger, leading to vengeance. I believe it to be quite one of the crowning wickednesses of this age, that we have starved and chilled our faculty of indignation, and neither desire nor dare to punish crimes justly.”

This faculty of righteous wrath when it takes shape in irony, ridicule, sarcasm, invective, is the mightiest foe of vanity, hypocrisy, pretension, corruption, and vice. By its sword do they perish. The teachers and writers of New Testament times, did not disdain to use in their work every instrument of power known to the human mind. From their own stand-point, at least, they had many false notions and customs to combat; they had the ignorant, prejudiced, officious and fault-finding to deal with; they were harrassed by narrow and persistent opponents; they had to do battle at every step. They might have exclaimed with a modern writer, “Let us be thankful that we have in wit a power before which the pride of wealth, and the insolence of office are abased; which can transfix bigotry and tyranny with arrows of lightning; which can strike its object over thousands of miles of space, across thousands of years of time; and which through its sway over an universal weakness of man, is an everlasting instrument to make the bad tremble and the foolish wince.”

The Choice of the Jews.

There is an excellent piece of quiet sarcasm in John’s account of the trial of Jesus. He first gives us Pilate’s conclusion in these words: “And when he had said this, he went out again unto the Jews and saith: I find no fault in him at all; but ye have a custom that I release unto you one at the passover; will ye therefore that I release unto you the king of the Jews?” Pilate is willing; he pronounces Jesus innocent; but the crowd clamor and refuse. “Then cried they all again, saying, Not this man, but Barabbas.” John closes the account with an inoffensive looking sentence, but one so full of bitter satire, that we can not help thinking of the time when he wished to call down fire from heaven. Jesus is an innocent man—so pronounced by the governor—but the Jews cry out for his blood. They want Barabbas released. And who is Barabbas? Who is this popular idol? Who is the man that the people prefer to Jesus the upright and spotless? With a rapier-like thrust, John pierces the heart of that iniquitous choice, “Now Barabbas was a robber.” It is a stroke worthy the “Son of thunder.”

The Weakness of Pilate.

But think not, O Pilate, that thou shalt escape. The same hand that cast the first javelin, will also send one to pierce thy heart. In the next chapter, John tells us how, up to a certain point, Pilate sought to release Jesus. He was convinced of his innocence, and did not wish him put to death. But there is a weak spot in Pilate’s nature, and John points it out with infallible precision. Pilate is not the man to stand for the right at personal sacrifice. When his own interests are at stake, he will permit injustice and cruel wrong to others. Why does he deliver Jesus to the cross? John is determined that all the world shall know. “The Jews cried out, saying, If thou let this man go, thou art not Cæsar’s friend; whosoever maketh himself a king, speaketh against Cæsar.” My lord Pilate is not proof against this insinuation. He can not face the possibility of losing his office. “When Pilate, therefore, heard that saying, he brought Jesus forth. * * * Then delivered he him therefore unto them to be crucified.” John has stamped Pilate as a weak, vacillating and selfish ruler; and his portrait, marked with these features, has been transmitted to all ages.

Paul and his Detractors.

Perhaps none of the great characters of New Testament times were so beset by foes of all kinds as was Paul. He has himself assured us that he was often in perils from his own countrymen, and in perils from false brethren. He was denounced by priests and scribes, and opposed by upstarts in the very churches he had founded. In replying to arguments and meeting objections he sometimes showed his mastery of more than one form of wit,—although the form he most frequently used was irony.

By many his preaching was characterized as “foolishness.” There was nothing in it to commend it to the Jews who “required a sign,” or to the Greeks, “who sought after wisdom.” “Very well,” is his reply, “foolish it may be, but after all it has accomplished more than either Jew or Greek has been able to do for the world. ‘Where is the wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the disputer of this world? Hath not God made foolish the wisdom of this world?’ What has it achieved? Where are its monuments? ‘For after that the world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of (just such) preaching (as mine) to save them that believe.’ This foolishness has lifted men from vile and sinful lives into righteousness and honor. Have your own way about it, O Greeks and Jews; I will be accounted a fool if you will, and am willing to let my words be stigmatized as folly; but you will find that ‘God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things that are mighty; and base things of the world, and things that are despised hath God chosen; yea, and things that are not, to bring to nought things that are.’ I accept the low estimate you put upon me and my work, but I triumph over you and your work, however exalted. Results shall determine. This is glorious folly!”

In writing to the Corinthians, he says of certain members of the church who thought that in spiritual things they were superior to himself, “Now some are puffed up, as though I would not come to you. But I will come to you shortly, if the Lord will, and will know, not the speech of them which are puffed up, but the power.”

To those thus puffed up, he addresses himself in the following ironical strain: “Now ye are full, now ye are rich; ye have reigned as kings without us; and I would that ye did reign, that we also might reign with you. For I think that God has set forth us the apostles last. * * * We are fools for Christ’s sake, but ye are wise in Christ; we are weak, but ye are strong; ye are honorable, but we are despised.”

He denounces certain teachers who were sowing the seeds of discord among his churches, as “false apostles, deceitful workers, transforming themselves into apostles of Christ. And no marvel; for Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light. Therefore, it is no great thing if his ministers also be transformed as the ministers of righteousness; whose end shall be according to their works.” Such teachers as these pronounced Paul a fool and did everything to bring his work into contempt. “Very good,” says Paul to the Corinthians, “receive me then as a fool,” and then proceeding, with his favorite irony, “For ye suffer fools gladly, seeing ye yourselves are wise!”

How scathing is his rebuke to those who misrepresented his doctrine: “We be slanderously reported, and some affirm that we say, Let us do evil that good may come!—whose condemnation is just.” This is his only answer to evil tongues.

It is conceded by the best authorities that Paul did not write the Epistle to the Hebrews, but there is a passage in that letter not unlike him,—the rebuke to those who ought to be strong, manly and intelligent Christians, but who have not yet gotten out of their swaddling clothes: “For when for the time ye ought to be teachers, ye have need that one teach you again which be the first principles of the oracles of God; and are become such as have need of milk and not of strong meat. For every one that useth milk is unskillful in the word of righteousness; for he is but a babe. But strong meat belongeth to those that are of full age, even those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern both good and evil.”

Similar to this is Paul’s treatment of the Corinthians when they were divided in their allegiance, some claiming to belong to one teacher and some to another. First Paul himself had been there and taught among them in that broad and liberal spirit which always characterized him. He made very little of forms and ceremonies, and very much of charity and brotherhood. Then came Peter who was always more narrow than Paul, but very intense. Paul was a broad river, Peter a mountain torrent. Peter never completely freed himself from the bondage of the Jewish system, and he insisted upon some of the things that Paul discarded. Soon a party was formed. Some thought, no doubt, that Paul was too far away from the Jewish creed, that he was not strict enough, that it was perhaps safer to take Peter as a guide; so while some said, “I am of Paul,” others said, “I am of Cephas.” Then came Apollos who is described as being “very eloquent.” When he stood up to speak, many said, “He beats both Paul and Peter; I am of Apollos.” So there were “envyings and strifes and divisions.” Paul ridicules the Corinthians for these childish quarrels, and says that he must still speak to them as to “babes.” “I have fed you with milk and not with meat; for hitherto ye were not able to bear it, neither yet now are ye able!”

Examples from other Apostles.

The epistle of James that has furnished illustrations for some of the preceding chapters, shall yield one for this, in its notice of a grave abuse that existed in the early churches, and that has not entirely died out of modern churches.

“My brethren, have not the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory, in respect of persons. For if there come into your assembly, a man with a gold ring, in goodly apparel, and there come in also a poor man in vile raiment; and ye have respect to him that weareth the gay clothing, and say unto him, Sit thou here in a good place (Take this high-priced and fashionable pew, where you can listen to the gospel in luxurious ease, and at the same time dazzle the eyes of those in neighboring pews with the latest fashions), but say to the poor, Stand thou here, or sit here under my foot-stool (or go up in the gallery), are ye not then partial in yourselves, and are become judges of evil thoughts?”

Peter silences certain ones who complained of persecution, by saying, “If ye are reproached for the name of Christ, happy are ye (that is nothing to complain of), but let none of you suffer as a murderer, or as a thief, or as an evil-doer, or as a busy-body in other men’s matters (if any one of you suffers in such a character, he deserves the lash).” In either case, there is nothing to justify your outcry.

He also denounces certain ones who have forsaken the right way and gone astray as “wells without water, clouds without rain that are carried of a tempest.” They “speak great swelling words of vanity, promising liberty while they are themselves the slaves of corruption.” And then he fastens the reproach of their apostasy upon them with what Falstaff would call a “most unsavory simile,”—“It is happened to them according to the true proverb, The dog is turned to his own vomit again, and the sow that was washed to her wallowing in the mire.” Such are those who turn back to error from the paths of truth.

In much the same strain does Jude write to the same class: “These are spots in your feasts of charity; clouds without water, carried about of the winds; trees whose fruit withereth without fruit, twice dead, plucked up by the roots; raging waves of the sea, foaming out their own shame; wandering stars to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness forever!”

John wrote to the Laodiceans: “I know thy works that thou art neither cold nor hot; so then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew thee out of my mouth. Thou sayest, I am rich and increased with goods, and have need of nothing; and knowest not that thou art wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked!”

The Laodiceans needed the familiar prayer of Burns:

“O wad some power the giftie gie us,
To see oursel’s as ithers see us;
It would frae mony a blunder free us,
And foolish notion!”

They needed a look into the glass of Lao, which revealed the blemishes of the soul, how fair soever the exterior.

Christ’s Use of Invective.

Even more severe than his apostles in his use of denunciation, was the Great Master himself. In his controversies with the recognized religious leaders of his day, he heaped coals of fire upon their claims and teachings and practices.

“Ye leave the commandment of God and hold fast to the tradition of men,” he says to the Scribes and Pharisees; and then adds, with terrible irony, “Full well ye reject the commandment of God, that ye may keep your tradition.” Surely, when the commandments of God were placed side by side with rabbinical glosses, they were in an extremely cruel position!

No passage of invective, in any literature, is more crushing than this: “Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye shut up the kingdom of heaven against men; for ye neither go in yourselves, neither suffer ye them that are entering to go in. Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For ye compass sea and land to make one proselyte, and when he is made, ye make him two-fold more the child of hell than yourselves. * * * Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye devour widows’ houses and for a pretense make long prayers; therefore ye shall receive the greater damnation. * * * Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye make clean the outside of the cup and platter, but within they are full of extortion and excess. Blind Pharisees! cleanse first that which is within the cup and platter, that the outside of them may be clean also! Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye are like unto whited sepulchers which, indeed, appear beautiful outward, but within are full of dead men’s bones and all uncleanness. Even so ye also outwardly appear righteous unto men, but within ye are full of hypocrisy and iniquity. * * * Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, for ye are as graves which appear not, and men walk over them and are not aware of them.”

But not only the leaders, but the people also, fall under his lash. “The men of Nineveh shall rise up in judgment with this generation and shall condemn it, because they repented at the preaching of Jonas; and behold a greater than Jonas is here. The queen of the South shall rise up in the judgment with this generation and shall condemn it; for she came from the uttermost parts of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon; and behold a greater than Solomon is here! When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, he walketh through dry places, seeking rest and findeth none. Then he saith, I will return to my house from whence I came out; and when he is come, he findeth it empty, swept and garnished. Then goeth he and taketh with him seven other spirits more wicked than himself, and they enter in and dwell there; and the last state of that man is worse than the first. Even so shall it be also unto this wicked generation!”

Upon another occasion, he upbraided the cities in which he had wrought and preached. “Woe unto thee, Chorazin; woe unto thee Bethsaida; for if the mighty works had been done in Tyre and Sidon, which have been done in you, they had a great while ago repented sitting in sackcloth and ashes. But it shall be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon at the judgment than for you. And thou, Capernaum, which art exalted to heaven, shalt be thrust down to hell!”

Does it seem strange that such language should have come from the lips of Jesus? Should we not rather have expected it from the stern Baptist, his forerunner, who denounced the “brood of vipers” that came to his baptism? Is it inconsistent with that spirit of love which we believe to have been the distinguishing characteristic of Christ? But love is not mere invertebral amiability or moon-faced complacency. By as much as love is strong and true, by so much does it seek, at any cost and by any means, to remove the faults and follies of its object. If the lash be needed, the lash it will take. “He who has never experienced the affectionate bitterness of love,” says F. W. Robertson, “who has never known how earnest irony and passionate sarcasm may be the very language of love in its deepest, saddest moods is utterly incapable of even judging this passion!”

Here the writer’s task ends. The subject may be capable of much more elaborate treatment; it would be claiming too much to suppose that these chapters exhaust it. The writer trusts, however, that he may have suggested a line of study to others, as it was first suggested to him. The poetry, the dramatic portions, the oratory of the Scriptures, are unsurpassed. Viewed simply as a literary work, the Bible is the most interesting in the whole realm of letters. It becomes increasingly interesting, as its great human elements are recognized. Over history, biography, and most serious discourse, play the soft gleams of healthful humor and the lightning-like bolts of sarcasm and wit. The book touches human nature at all points. The more we view it as “literature,” the less as “dogma,” the firmer will become its hold upon the heart of man.

That these fragmentary studies may help some one to appreciate his Bible better and enjoy it more, is the writer’s wish. He may also express, in closing, the hope that whoever has taken the trouble to read these pages may have found them free from that which he disclaimed at the outset—irreverence; as he believes them to be free from the other extreme, superstition.