The Wisdom of Nathan - Glenn Conjurske

The Wisdom of Nathan

by Glenn Conjurske

We are all familiar with Nathan’s parable, which he spoke to David, after David had taken Bath-sheba, and killed her husband to cover his crime. I hope that most of us have understood the exquisite wisdom embodied in that parable, by which he moved David to condemn his own act, before ever he heard a word of reproof or accusation from the prophet. Yet I wonder how many of us have understood the necessity of such wisdom in dealing with the sins of others. For lack of that wisdom I fear that offenders are often made worse instead of better, and when this occurs their reprovers naturally lay all the blame on the offender. Yet I suppose that much of the blame often lies upon the one who undertakes to reprove and restore. It is not without reason that Paul says, “Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual restore such an one.” This is not the work of novices and bunglers, but of wise and spiritual men.

Now there is a very obvious reason for the necessity of the wisdom of Nathan in dealing with the faults of others. It is a simple fact that when men are accused, they are very prone to defend themselves. It is difficult to admit guilt. It is humiliating and embarrassing. Most of the human race will go great lengths in excusing and defending themselves, rather than acknowledge their faults. This is a simple fact of human nature. We do not say it ought to be so: we simply affirm that it is so—-and anyone who undertakes to reprove or correct his brethren ought to have this fact continually before him. If he does not, he will in almost all cases do more harm than good.

Understand, the success of a reprover depends upon his moving the offender to condemn himself. Without that, no good can be done. But if instead of moving him to condemn himself, he moves him rather to defend himself, he has done great harm, and perhaps irreparable harm. Instead of moving the man to forsake his sin and mend his ways, he has moved him to entrench himself more deeply in his wrong. Moreover, he has engaged the offender’s pride in such a way as to make it much more difficult for him to acknowledge his fault for the future, than it would have been in the past. It is a very difficult thing for a man to admit that he is wrong, but when he has once defended that wrong, the difficulty is much increased. Unwise reprovers, then, who do no more than provoke the offender to defend himself, have actually done great damage to the soul of the offender—-as much damage as the physician does to his patient’s body, when he prescribes a treatment which increases the disease instead of curing it.

Oh that all the officious correctors in the church of God but understood the grand necessity of the wisdom of Nathan! What good might then be done, and what evil prevented. But the plain fact is this: if this matter were once understood, many self-appointed correctors would cease to be correctors at all. It is almost always easier to detect a fault than it is to correct it. This is true in all realms, and as true in the spiritual sphere as in any other. Those who recognize this will doubtless do more praying than reproving. I am sometimes painfully conscious of the faults of others, and even feel a responsibility to do something about it, and yet I refrain, being keenly conscious of my insufficiency for the task. I pray that God will deal with the refractory soul. I pray for the wisdom of Nathan, but meanwhile I keep my hands off the case, being virtually certain that I would do more harm than good by attempting to deal with it.

But let it be understood also that though all of us have an inbred inclination to defend ourselves when we are accused, that propensity is not of equal strength in all of us. It is full-grown in the proud, but it may be very much subdued in the humble. We must know the souls we would correct. I may know one soul whom I would seldom hesitate to correct, and another whom I would seldom attempt to correct, for I know the humility of the one, and the pride of the other. I know who will receive admonition meekly, and who will not receive it at all. We must know our man, as well as his fault.

Here is a man who is disputatious and irritable. He is too much impressed with his own abilities, and takes it ill that others are not equally impressed. He loves to set forth his own theories, and quickly becomes heated when they are opposed. Who will go to such a man and tell him his fault? Who cannot see what the result will be? He will soon be heated and belligerent, defend himself, find something to blame in his reprover (as though that excused himself), perhaps lose his temper, and, if his reprover is his pastor, likely leave the church.

Some will doubtless say, Let such a man be reproved forthwith. Let him lose his temper. Let him leave the church. He is probably no true Christian anyway. And I must grant that there may be cases where this may be the proper course. There may be cases where reproof is a plain necessity, and amendment a great improbability. Yet I observe that Paul says, “If a man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual restore such an one”—-not drive him away. Restoration ought to be our aim, and where we see little likelihood of accomplishing it, we ought to be very slow to reprove. We cannot consider the man alone. No man lives to himself, and if we drive away the offender, he takes away his wife and family also, and what is to become of them? What we want in such a case is the wisdom of Nathan, and we ought to secure this by our own prayer and humility before we undertake to correct such a man.

We wonder how long Nathan knew of David’s fault before he undertook to correct him. The real fact is, no man is to be reproved carelessly. David was a meek and spiritual man. He had surely manifested his readiness to receive reproof when he submitted so meekly and thankfully to the correction of Abigail. Yet I observe that Abigail’s reproof, though forceful enough, was meekness itself in its spirit. He must be a very Nabal who could resist the force of such an appeal. It may be worth observing also that Abigail was a woman, and it is probably generally easier for a man to take reproof from a woman than from another man. At any rate, Nathan did not approach this matter carelessly. He came to David cautiously, with a plan laid deep in wisdom. That wisdom taught him not to come to David with a condemning spirit, nor pointing an accusing finger. Such an approach is almost certain to fail. He came with a stratagem in his mouth, by which to move David to condemn his own act. Not that such a stratagem will always succeed. No, for there is a great step between condemning our own act—-or one essentially equivalent—-and condemning ourselves. By means of the wisdom of Nathan we might lead the proud man to condemn his own act, but when we say, “Thou art the man,” he will immediately lose his temper, and begin to accuse and condemn us rather than himself. I once used such a stratagem with a man, a fictitious case in which I was sure he would agree that the thing itself was wrong, but when I came to “Thou art the man,” he turned the tables, and the fault was all in me! Indeed, I once had a man blame me for being a detective and finding out his fault, though his own offense was a very serious one.

Nathan’s “Thou art the man,” then, may not succeed at all. And here I must speak of a branch of the wisdom of Nathan which may not plainly appear in the text. “The wisdom that is from above,” while by all means it “is first pure,” aiming first of all to convict of sin, and move the offender to condemn his sin and himself, is “then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be intreated, full of mercy and good fruits.” (James 3:17). The work of Nathan was only half done when he had moved David to condemn his act. At that point David had no thought of condemning himself. To move him to that required the second half of “the wisdom that is from above.” If at that point the spirit of Nathan had not been “gentle” and “full of mercy,” it is very unlikely he would have moved David to repentance. We may be sure there was no triumphant gloating in Nathan’s “Thou art the man”—-no condemning spirit, no harshness of tone, no determination to humiliate. Any of this would have defeated his purpose—-and may indeed have moved David to sacrifice Nathan as he had Uriah. I suppose that Nathan uttered these hard words with head hung and voice subdued, perhaps with tears flowing from his eyes. All of this belongs to “the wisdom that is from above,” and its very gentleness subdues the sinner and overcomes his sin.

Correctors of others must be wise as serpents and harmless as doves. To that end they must be extremely careful not to paint the man’s faults blacker than they are. Unless the offender is a model of meekness and humility, to paint his fault blacker than it is will almost certainly move him to defend himself. It is difficult enough for a man to acknowledge his actual guilt. If we ask him to acknowledge more than that, we are almost certain to fail. We are almost certain to move him to deny his guilt, in what he must justly regard as a false, because aggravated, accusation. If we are to do him any good, his own innate sense of justice must be arrayed against himself, but when the charges brought against him are false or aggravated, that innate sense of justice will necessarily and unavoidably be arrayed against his accusers. Nor can these observations be limited to the facts of the case. There may be agreement all around as to what the facts are, and yet ten different opinions as to the gravity of them. A reprover who treats trivial matters as grave sins will probably only provoke bad feelings, and so make the heart of the offender worse instead of better. The fact is, a man cannot convict himself of grave guilt for a trivial fault, and to ask this of him proves only the ill-will of the reprover.

And all of this leads me naturally to speak of what I regard as one of the main ingredients in “the wisdom that is from above.” That ingredient is love. It is certainly not knowledge which makes men “gentle, easy to be intreated, and full of mercy,” but love. Wisdom teaches us how to gain our end, and when our end is the restoration of an offender, what can knowledge do, without love? There is more of this wisdom in an ounce of love than there is in ten pounds of knowledge. How easy it is to admit our fault to a man, when we know that he loves us. But if we have reason to doubt that love, if he manifests a condemning spirit, a determination to triumph over us, a disposition to humiliate us, it becomes extremely difficult to acknowledge our fault to him.

All of this applies as well to winning souls as to reproving an erring brother. No sinner can be saved until he condemns himself, and it is the first business of the evangelist to lead him to that. This is conviction of sin, and to bring it about the evangelist must certainly point as it were an accusing finger at the guilty sinner, as did John the Baptist, as well as Christ and his apostles. But how is he to do this without provoking the sinner to defend himself? Not easily, we may surely suppose. This is the work of wisdom. “He that winneth souls is wise,” and it is wisdom indeed which can convict the conscience, and at the same time draw and win the heart. But I have seen some very unwise dealing with souls, which was not calculated to win them at all, but only to drive them away. I was once knocking on doors with a fellow Christian, and with great grief watched him manhandle a gentle and hungry-hearted woman. His dealing with her resembled a boxing match. He had her on the ropes, and every time she tried to take a breath, he hit her again. Alas, it was not long afterwards that I was to feel his merciless blows myself, while he led a faction in the church against me. It is not thus that souls are won or hearts turned from sin. This is the work of love. How exceeding precious is the account of the Lord’s dealing with the woman at the well. He did not spare her sin, but fully exposed it, and yet did not provoke her to defend herself—-not even for a moment—-but drew and won her sinful heart to that repentance which is unto eternal life.

And thus it is that we must deal with erring saints as well as erring sinners. Nathan undoubtedly possessed that wisdom from above. It was no doubt for this reason that “the Lord sent Nathan unto David.” It behooves us all to covet that wisdom, and not fancy ourselves sent to correct our brethren until we possess it.

Glenn Conjurske