Deliver them that are taken forth unto death, and withdraw not from them that stagger to slaughter.
This verse turns courage into a specific demand: take hold of the people who are on their way to death. Commentators treat it as a test of what our strength is for, and they close off the excuse that we did not know.
One writer asks where our strength comes from, and what it is meant to be spent on.
Of course, if we trust our own strength, we will find it small indeed. But if we have found our strength in the Lord, we will lack nothing. As Paul says, "I can do all things through him who strengthens me" (Phil. 4:13). But that strength is not to be used selfishly. Instead, there are those who, in their weakness, are "being taken away to death" (v. 11). If we have the strength of the Lord, we ought to use it for such victims.
The verse names no relationship — no friend, no countryman. One commentator shows how far the duty reaches, and how the Lord answered a man who asked who counts as his neighbour.
Using strength for ourselves has no worth. But rescuing those who are in danger of an unjust death, from whatever source, public or private, is fitting for a righteous soul. It is a duty independent of either friendship or neighbourly claim. The Samaritan was the Lord's answer to the lawyer's question, Who is my neighbour? He never tried to justify himself. He became a neighbour to the man who needed his help.
Verse 12 answers our defence before we make it. We will say we did not realise.
Suppose we ignore the needs of those in trouble, using the excuse that we did not know their condition (v. 12). Let us consider that God knows exactly whether this is true. Mere excuses will have no weight with Him. We cannot expect to escape the results of not caring for the needs of others. God will render to each according to his deeds.
The same writer points to two men who once tried that excuse:
The priest and the Levite said of the man lying half dead on the other side of the road, "We did not know." It was no use: the LORD considered it.
The same writer looks past the command to what moves a person to obey it.
Being sure that He keeps your soul sets His knowledge of everything before your heart. We may believe this is what moved the Samaritan to mercy. With it comes the certainty that He renders to each man according to his work.
Another writer asks what real separation from evil looks like. His test is the neighbour we walk past.
True separation from evil is Christ-likeness. It moves about among our fellow men, but it is of an altogether different spirit from that of this world, with other motives, desires and ambitions… What about our brother who lives in our street, in our neighbourhood? We have often seen him, but we have never done anything to show our love to him. Will it do at the judgment seat to say he was not "of us," so we were justified in ignoring him? … If our excuse is, "Oh, he is all wrong," this only makes our own case worse, because the need was all the greater.
One more writer takes the rescue further, to those who die in their sins:
Ought we not to be more alive to the awful condition and destiny of those who die in their sins? Are we doing all we might to rescue our fellow men from the danger hanging over them? Is it right to fold our arms and say, with chilling indifference, "God will save the elect, we can do nothing"? We believe it to be simply heartless cruelty to souls.
- Strength given — real strength comes from the Lord. He gives it to spend on people in danger, not on ourselves.
- Rescue owed — the duty does not rest on friendship or on any claim of neighbourhood. The Samaritan became a neighbour by meeting the need in front of him.
- Excuse refused — say "we did not know," and God still knows exactly whether that is true.
- Motive supplied — the God who sees everything is the God who keeps your soul. That conviction moved the Samaritan to mercy.
- Reckoning coming — God renders to each according to his work. Folded arms and the plea "he was not one of us" will not clear us.
If thou sayest, Behold, we knew it not, will not he that weigheth the hearts consider it? And he that preserveth thy soul, he knoweth it; and he rendereth to man according to his work.
Proverbs 24:12 answers an excuse before the speaker finishes making it. Someone has failed to rescue a person heading for death, and the defence is ignorance. The verse replies with two questions about who really knows the heart.
The same test appears again and again in Proverbs. One writer lines this verse up with another that says the same.
Whatever the lips profess, "as he thinks in his heart so he is." "Every way of a man is right in his own eyes, but the LORD weighs the heart" (Prov. 21:2). "Does not He who weighs the heart perceive it?" (Prov. 24:12).
One writer connects this weighing to words of Peter, and finds comfort in them.
Self-justification suits the natural man but the Lord tests all hearts. How well it is to remember in all our conduct that truth, so comforting to the believer, expressed by Peter, "You know all things."
One writer hears this excuse in a story Jesus told about a priest and a Levite — two temple men who walked past a wounded traveller.
The priest and the Levite spoke in vain about the man lying half dead on the other side of the road. They said, "We did not know it." But the Lord considered it.
The excuse fails because the One who hears it can check it.
Suppose we ignore the needs of those in trouble. Our excuse may be that we did not know their condition (v. 12). But God knows exactly whether this is true, and excuses will have no weight with Him. We cannot expect to avoid the consequences of a lack of care for the needs of others: God will render to each according to his deeds.
There is a difference between not knowing and not wanting to know, and we are quick to confuse the two in our own favour.
We believe we very often plead ignorance, when indifference would be the truer term to use. This is very sad. Our God, in His infinite goodness, has made full provision even for sins of ignorance. But that is no reason to shelter ourselves behind the plea of ignorance. Plenty of information is within our reach, if we only had the energy to use it.
The verse does not say who the person in danger is. One writer says no relationship is needed to make rescue a duty.
To use strength for ourselves has no worth. But it fits a righteous soul to rescue those who face an unjust death, whatever its source, public or private. This duty does not depend on friendship or on any claim of being a neighbour. The Samaritan was the Lord's answer to the lawyer's question, Who is my neighbour? Without the least thought of justifying himself, he becomes neighbour to the sufferer who needed his help.
The excuses we reach for tend to be about who the person is rather than what they need.
We are bound to show love to him — how have we done it? We have every reason to be humbled to the dust, because we have not been a neighbour to our brother. And if our excuse is, "Oh, he is all wrong," that only makes our own case worse. His need was all the greater.
The verse also calls God the keeper of your soul. One writer sees mercy growing out of that thought.
Being sure that He preserves your soul brings His knowledge of everything before the heart. We may believe this is what moved the Samaritan to mercy. Beside it stands the certainty that He repays each person according to his work.
The same duty reaches people who face a danger beyond the body.
Should not the thought of this make us more solemn, more earnest, more real in our dealing with our fellow men? Ought we not to be more alive to the awful condition and destiny of those who die in their sins? Are we doing all we might to rescue our fellows from impending danger?
- Weighed — God does not only see what we do. He weighs the heart, so our motive is already on the scales.
- Excused — "We did not know" was the plea of the priest and the Levite. God knows exactly whether it is true.
- Indifferent — we often say we did not know when the honest word is that we did not care. The facts were within reach.
- Neighboured — the duty stands whether or not the person is a friend, a relative, or one of us. The more wrong he is, the greater his need.
- Rendered — the God who keeps your soul knows all. He repays each person according to his work. That certainty moves mercy.