Woe to the women that sew pillows to all armholes.
Pillows for all elbows
There is often something very quaint and forcible about the imagery of the old prophets. It lays hold upon you and impresses you much more effectually than if they had delivered their message in plain though powerful language. The image of the text is easily understood. Ezekiel has been commissioned to lift up his voice against the many false prophets who both in Jerusalem and among the exiles are misleading the people by announcing salvation without repentance, and grace without judgment. He is so indignant at their feebleness and effeminacy, that he describes as women, and pronounces his woe upon the persistency of their endeavours to accommodate themselves and their teaching to the wishes and desires of the community. A true peace, real security, genuine tranquillity, could be obtained only by fearlessly and bravely laying bare the truth, however stern and uncomfortable it might be, and not by covering it up with devices calculated to hide its hideousness and soften its painfulness. Now, this old trade of sewing pillows, of making cushions for all elbows that feel the hardness and uncomfortableness of unwelcome facts, is not yet extinct. In truth, it is specially prosperous at the present time. Let me, however, not be misunderstood. Discomfort has no merit in itself. You come across people occasionally who evidently think it has--irritating, troublesome people, with certainly nothing in them of the spirit of Ezekiel’s false prophets. They glory in making you uncomfortable. Every painful incident or troublesome piece of news that comes to their knowledge is seized upon with avidity, eagerly communicated, and secretly gloated over. Your distress and anxiety is meat and drink to them. The only excuse for the infliction of pain, whether of body or mind, is the sincere desire to bring about thereby a more thorough and lasting immunity from it; the earnest wish to show a man that the position he is occupying may for the time be pleasant, but, being deceptive, it can end at last only in trouble more serious than that which you unwillingly bring upon him. Our times, I have said, are effeminate. We dislike everything that disturbs our peace of mind, or ruffles the serenity of our conscience. We are adepts at hiding unwelcome facts, and toning down unpleasant truths. Let me just indicate one or two directions in which we are specially ingenious and industrious in sewing pillows for our elbows. We are so, I think, in regard to the doctrines of our Christian faith. The Christianity taught and professed nowadays is, it seems to me, often of a very emasculated character. I very much doubt if the great mass of professing Christians have any other creed than a vague trust in the mercy of God, which they hope will save them from all ill in the world to come, but which allows them to go on with comparative comfort, satisfying their desires in the world that now is. If Christ had anything to do with their salvation, they do not see clearly what it is; they may believe He was a good man, more than a man, perhaps, whose words they gladly accept, so far as they are agreeable and comforting, and whose example they cannot but admire, though they make no serious effort to imitate it. Just let a man live a fairly decent and respectable life, outraging in no gross manner the properties and standards of civilised society, and they believe all will be well with him; God will not be hard on him. They know little or nothing of a complete surrender of the soul to God as their Father, to Christ as their Saviour, to the Holy Ghost as their Sanctifier; of the necessity of that new birth which gives an entire change to the bias of the will, and which makes life henceforth one long endeavour, even amid failure and weakness, to conform to the pattern of the perfect Christ; they do not apprehend the bearing upon human life and destiny of the momentous facts of our Lord’s incarnation, death, resurrection, and ascension. Life would scarcely be one whir poorer to them if these events had never taken place, This being so, they have none of the Lord’s anxiety, nor the anxiety of His apostles, to bring the world into the kingdom of God. There is another direction in which our love of ease and comfort continually shows itself--the manner in which we persistently hide from ourselves the misery of the world around us. Everywhere pain is racking fair human bodies; secret anguish is tormenting human souls; sin in its hydra-headed forms, through drunkenness and lust and anger and godlessness, is working ruin incalculable. At our very doors it is so; in every city of the empire it is so; in distant lands it is so. The cry of perpetual torment rises to heaven; the wail of woe ascends day and night from the trampled and despairing, from the suffering and the dying, from the sinning and sinking of our kind, our brethren and sisters for whom Christ died. You know this; secretly you know it; but you do not want to know it, so you lock up the knowledge of it, like the gaunt skeleton it is, in the inmost chamber of your mind, and act as if you were aware of no such hateful presence. It is marvellous what power we have of putting out of sight, and even out of mind for a time, what is disagreeable to us, of shutting our ears to what we do not wish to hear, of persuading ourselves that, after all, things are not so bad as some would have us believe, of settling down comfortably on our cushions, and taking our ease. But the skeleton will not always remain in its inner chamber; it will stalk abroad in due season, whatever we do, and overwhelm us with fear and shame. And there is one other direction in which we are in constant danger of weakly sewing pillows for our elbows, of concealing from ourselves painful facts--that is, as regards our present condition and future prospects in the sight of God. We quieten ourselves by saying, “Let not your heart be troubled, all is right; sin cannot be the dreadful thing it is made out to be; do as well as you can; God is merciful.” As for the inevitable and dreaded future, we shut it off from view. Nothing is to be gained by concealment but temporary peace of the most delusive kind. If we were so hopelessly sunk in sin that there was no rescue from it, if death were for us the end of all things, if at the last judgment we had no Advocate with the Father, then there might be some reason for seeking to bury out of sight facts so hateful and irremediable; but with the blessed Gospel of our Lord proclaiming salvation from sin, with the great fact of the resurrection of Christ from the dead attesting that death is but the gate into a higher and nobler life, with the promise of His perpetual intercession at the right hand of the Eternal Judge, why should we hesitate to know the worst that can be known? It is not incurable. The quicker and the better we know it, the more curable it will be, and the sooner will come our true peace. (James Thomson, M. A.)
Pillows for armholes
The people of the East are generally indolent and voluptuous. The art which they most study is the art of making themselves comfortable. Enter an Eastern divan, or the saloon of the more aristocratic mansions, and you will be struck with the ingenuity and expense with which provision is made for bodily ease and sensual enjoyment. Odours and perfumes of sweetest fragrance are diffused through the room; fountains or vases of coldest water help to cool the heated air of the tropics. The sides and corners of the room are cushioned all round, whilst movable cushions of every form and size, richly embroidered and ornamented, are spread on the couches and chairs, and even on the carpet. When this love of ease and luxury was carried to excess, cushions were provided not only for the head and shoulders and back, but for the arms and for every joint, that every part of the body might lie softly and feel comfortable. The words of our text might be rendered “pillows for all arm joints”--including the armholes, the elbows, and wrists. And their use is significant of the greatest ease and luxury. Some suppose that Ezekiel refers to the abandoned women whose vile and detestable ways are graphically described in the Book of Proverbs (chaps. 6, 7). These interpret the words of the prophet almost literally; they regard these “pillows and kerchiefs” as literal pillows and kerchiefs with which they furnished their chambers and decked their persons to allure souls into their snares, and ruin them. They represent these women as of the class who, for a pittance of remuneration, sell themselves to the lowest vice. But whilst, no doubt, some were of this dissolute character, I do not think that the passage is to be interpreted literally; I believe it is best interpreted figuratively. The meaning is almost identical with the “wall of untempered mortar.” The prophets predicted safety when there was none. The prophetesses predicted ease, prosperity, and luxury when there should be none. They did, as it were, sew beautifully soft pillows and cushions, to put under every limb and joint of the sleepers, to make their repose more undisturbed and their sleep more profound; and, singing their lullaby o’er the lethargic people, they said,--“Peace, peace, when there was no peace.” Therefore, saith God,--“Woe to the women who sew pillows to all armholes.” We may vary the figure a little, to adapt it to modem times and this Western region. Activity and motion characterise our times and country. Let us, then, change the figure, and adapt it to our customs. We do not lounge in luxurious divans and voluptuous saloons: we are in the hurry of business, bustling hither and thither. A large proportion of the people are always on the roads and thoroughfares of the land. And what an accommodation to us are these ever-multiplying railways, linking together not only the larger towns, but even the populous villages, into a network of iron roads. And what a comfort, to those who can afford it, are our first-class carriages, with their softly cushioned seats, their resting plates for the arms, and “pillows for all armholes.” One could almost sleep there as in his own bed, and travel hundreds of miles without seeing the inside of a house. Now, all this is very well, when one can afford it, and the place of destination is such as you desire. But supposing you were allured and enticed into such a conveyance by fair speeches and flattering promises; supposing it were made so comfortable on purpose to allay your fears and deceive you as to the probable end of your journey,--would all this comfort satisfy you, were you apprised by some kind angel that you were in that easy, smooth fashion to be conveyed to a lunatic asylum or a prison, to end your days amongst madmen or felons, or to be launched headlong over a steep precipice to sudden destruction? I trow not. No; you would one and all start up, and indignantly seek to be set down, if possible; feeling that for such an end, the ease of the conveyance and the smoothness of the path were no compensation whatever. “Ah yes,” I think I hear someone say,--“yes, I see; you mean the rich sinners, who fare sumptuously every day,--who never know what it is to want a luxury or a comfort,--who have little work and much pay,--who spend on an article of fancy more than would keep a poor family for twelve months,--who can commit great and many sins, and cover them over with gold and silver, so that they shall never be mentioned,--who pacify conscience with wine or alms, and appease society by their high social standing.” No! I rather mean you than them. Those you have mentioned may be included in the list; but so, in all probability, are you. Of course you may be startled, you may be offended when I say so,--mean you. The rich sinner may have his pillow,--you have yours. There is no more common pillow for sinful and fatal lethargy than the one you are sleeping on, which has this inscription: “It is not I.” “I am not the person meant; it is the rich man; it is the hypocrite; it is my neighbour; anybody but me.” In other words, thousands are continuing in their sins and vicious career, because they never apply the warnings and descriptions of God’s Word and servants to themselves. Tell them, “Except ye repent and be converted, ye shall all perish,” they say, “It does not mean me; I have nothing to repent of, or if ever I had, I have long ago repented; it must be some other sinner.” You will now see what I mean by the use of pillows, after a figurative sense. I mean the various devices and delusions by which sinning is rendered easy, and the way to perdition made smooth. So common are these pillows, that it is rare indeed for any person to be without one of some kind, and many have more than one. I have already described one. A second is a misappropriation of heavenly material to earthly and wicked purposes. It is made from a perversion of the eternal decrees of God, and mistaken notions of Divine sovereignty. This is a pillow on which many a sinner has slept soundly and fatally. The cushion has two sides: on the one side is Election, and on the other is Reprobation. And nosy they lie on one side, and now on the other, and all your preaching and warning cannot rouse them. Where shall we look for a third pillow? There is the pillow of Procrastination. I speak of this in general; no pillow is more frequently used, more comfortable to lie upon, and sin upon, than this: “I admit the Bible is true, the minister is right; I am a sinner; Christ is a Saviour; I am a dying man; I must stand before the judgment seat of God; I must go to heaven or hell, according to my faith and character here. But then, the trump is not yet to be sounded; I am not expecting to die at present; I hope to live a good while longer; I should like to enjoy the pleasures of life as long as possible, and at some more convenient season I will repent; I will seek Jesus as my Saviour, and I hope through Him to die happily, and ultimately reach heaven.” But what if your sleep become heavier and deeper every day, so that the voice of warning or mercy no longer can reach your heart, and you perish in your sins? A fourth pillow is the hope of escaping detection. “No eye saw me; it will never be known.” This is a most wretched, yet common delusion, Sin will out. You cannot long tamper with the intoxicating cup, and not give evidence of intemperance. You cannot long prove unfaithful to your marriage vows, and not be looked down upon as a base and abandoned man. You cannot long embezzle the money entrusted to your care and rob your master, but soon suspicion will be excited, and proof sufficient to convict you transpire. You cannot long live inconsistently with your Christian profession as a member of Christ’s Church and keep up the semblance of godliness, but soon some act of dishonesty or immorality will declare that you are but a whited sepulchre and a vile hypocrite. Or if you do escape the detection and chastisement of your fellowmen, you cannot escape from the omniscience of God, who will judge everyone according to the deeds done in the body. (R. Bruce, M. A.)
Judgments denied none the less sure
The Chaldeans were to capture Jerusalem. God said so. False prophetesses denied it, and to quell the anxieties of the people employed a significant symbol by sewing little pillows under the arms, as much as to say: “Whenever you feel these soft pads at the arm sleeve, bethink yourselves all shall be easy and well.” But alas for the delusion: Notwithstanding all the smoothness of the prophecy, Jerusalem went down in darkness and fire and blood. It is not more certain that you are here this morning, not more certain that that is a window, not more certain that that is a ceiling, not more certain that that is a chair, not more certain that that is a carpet, than it is certain that God has declared destruction to the finally impenitent. Universalism comes out and tries to quell this fear, and wants to sew two pillows under my arm sleeves, and wants to sew two pillows under your arm sleeves. (T. De Witt Talmage.)
