This questions “Doth not even nature itself teach you?” (1 Cor. 11:14) is capable of a wider application than the specific case in view in this passage. Indeed it is undoubtedly a general principle applied to this particular case. We are, therefore, entitled to use it in a general way.
We must by no means overlook the particular case of which the passage treats. Indeed we ought most carefully to observe it, especially Christian women, since behind all the movements of the world and of fashion lies the god of this age, and his object is the breaking down of all the differences and barriers which God has erected. Thus will Satan’s schemes be more readily brought to fruition. Still we purpose in this paper to look at the general application of the principle, which has greatly helped the writer.
Take the question of inspiration. The Bible is inspired. Creation is inspired or God-made. Inspiration means God-breathed. Creation is the product of the word of God (Heb. 11:3). “He spake [God breathed], and it was done; He commanded, and it stood fast” (Ps. 33:9). The Bible, too, is the Word of God, God-breathed.
Often one has thought how many things might have been spared out of the Bible, and not be missed. Such a thought is foolish of course and should be refused. But such thoughts cross many minds. Take an extreme case.
Professor F.W.Newman, once an active professing Christian, but who became sceptical, once asked J.N.Darby what use was the verse, “The cloak that I left at Troas with Carpus, when thou comest, bring with thee, and the books, but especially the parchments” (2 Tim. 4:13)?
Mr. Darby at once replied, “Why that was the very verse that saved me from scattering my library.”
Take such a verse as “He that begets a fool does it to his sorrow; and the father of a fool has no joy” (Prov. 17:21). We might suggest that the second half of the verse is only a variation of the first, and could be dispensed with.
Yes; there are a thousand primroses on the bank side in spring. We could dispense with half the number. No, God gives in nature with prodigality. We might never have had, for instance, the musk rat or the sweet scented violet, and probably we should have been in one sense none the poorer, but God gives liberally in nature, and so, if find a liberality of expression or description in Holy Scripture I am not surprised.
Indeed, one is absolutely amazed at the liberality of God in nature: One might ask, What is the use of flowers? Vegetables and fruits we can understand, but why flowers? God is not a mere utilitarian. He is a lover of form and colour and scent, or else He would have not strewn the world with these things with lavish hand! Ask the man invalid in the hospital why God made flowers, and her face will light up, and a warm answer be given. So with the Word of God. We have the same God to do with.
Spurgeon tells of a godly man who closed his eyes when sailing down the Rhine, in case the beauties of nature should divert his mind from spiritual themes. The austere Puritan would not look at the exquisite moss rose, as he would count nothing on earth beautiful.
The writer loves to look upon the beauty of beast and flower, of rolling landscape or sequestered valley, of mighty mountain or lonely dell, and say, “My Lord Jesus Christ made that.”
Rather would I be in company with J.H.Barrows, who said, “The Himalayas are the raised letters upon which we blind children put our fingers to spell out the name of God.”
Take the question of numbers and their significance in Scripture. One means unity, three full testimony, five the number of a man, seven perfection, eight resurrection, twelve administration, etc., etc.
Someone may exclaim, There is no end to your imagination if you can see symbolical signification in numbers. But the astronomer, the geologist, the zoologist, the botanist, the naturalist will tell you that certain numbers dominate created things. The planets are governed by laws that are clearly marked by numbers. So with the other departments of knowledge.
Take one instance—the number four in Scripture, which symbolizes that which is universal, i.e., the four ends of the earth, the four winds of heaven, etc.
There are four things which make up the universe—air, solid matter, liquids, fire—outside of these there is nothing. Many instances can be furnished, but space forbids.
Take a last illustration. A lady once hotly contested the idea that it was necessary for anyone to die for her. She did not need the death of Christ for her salvation.
She was met by the question, “How do you sustain your natural life?”
“What has that to do with it?” she retorted.
“Never mind, answer the question,” was the reply.
Of course she was obliged to admit that her natural life was supported by feeding on death, that without sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice she could not maintain even her natural life.
And was it not reasonable to urge, “Doth not even nature itself teach you?” as an analogy? How the Lord Himself tells us, “Verily, verily, I say to you, Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink His blood, ye have no life in you” (John 6:53). Of course this graphic way of putting it does not mean literally, but eating and drinking are symbolical of the most thorough appropriation possible. Unless we accept the Lord Jesus Christ as our own personal Saviour there is neither reception nor maintaining of spiritual life.
“Doth not even nature itself teach you?” is one sentence in the inspired Word of God we can be deeply thankful for, and use it as God will teach us the analogy between His ways in nature and grace; never forgetting the immense and peculiar difference between the two. In the book of nature we read the lessons of the first; in the book of revelation, the inspired Word of God, we read the lessons of the second.
The book of nature reveals God’s fingers (Ps. 8:3); the book of revelation His heart. The former tells us of His originality, design, forethought, omnipotence; the latter reveals Himself, His heart, His love, His design in the creation of man and His ways in blessing Him.
The subject is vast. We have only been able to write suggestively and necessarily in a very scrappy manner as space forbids enlargement, inviting as the theme is.