“The eyes of the Lord are in every place, beholding the evil and the good.”

(Proverbs 15:3)

Who is the Christian layman and how is he distinguished from any other man? Is the difference seen in his habitual church attendance, or in the moral rectitude of his personal life, or in the standard of his business ethics, or in his participation in cooperative civic affairs?

No, the real distinction of the certified Christian lies in the realm of faith. There is a text in the Book of Proverbs which shows the difference. God’s layman is the one who believes that “the eyes of the Lord are in every place beholding the evil and the good.”

Now, what kind of faith is this which is the distinguishing mark of the genuine Christian? First of all, it is a faith that this universe is presided over by an intelligent, sensible Being. “The eyes of the Lord are in every place beholding the evil and the good.” The bonafide Christian does not hold with Thomas Hardy that “there is a blind, dumb thing that turns the handle of this idle show.”  For the genuine Christian, the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth. God sees, God knows, God observes all that is going on everywhere — this the true Christian believes.

Furthermore, the proven Christian is the man or woman who believes that the Supreme Being who rules this universe has a moral nature. “The eyes of the Lord are in every place beholding the evil and the good.” God not only sees, but God knows the difference between good and evil.  He is beholding all our acts and thoughts with a view to judging. Therefore, the practicing Christian, participating in the game of life, is always aware of the constant presence of that Celestial Referee who sees every play.  He knows that he can’t make up his own rules as he goes along to fit his opportunities or dilemmas in the game’s progress. The rules are set. He believes he must play by them, whether they favor or impede him. And all the while, marking the progress, seeing every play, calling the fouls and handing out the penalties is the Celestial Umpire.

But yet again, the bonafide Christian is that one who has a faith that God’s concern stretches to the whole of life. “The eyes of the Lord are in every place beholding the evil and the good.” In every place, are the eyes of our God; in warehouse, factory, farm, home, school, club. Here is a layperson’s faith for you, in contra-distinction to an arch clericalism which finds the religious only in churches and between sunrise and sunset of holy days. Here is a religious faith that proclaims that God’s searching concern for every moment of every day goes from Monday even through Friday and Saturday. That God is everywhere beholding men and women in the dread, wonderful events of human existence; in the glory and debacles of trade and warfare, in birth and death, in growing, exuberant strength and declining health and encroaching age.

What then are the implications of such a faith? On the one hand, this faith of the Christian, bringing everything human under the survey and rule of God, saves people from the idolatry of putting their business firm, career, the nation, or free private enterprise, or anything else at the center of life. With such a perspective, all things pertaining to business, profession and society stand under the judgment of God as limited goals and loyalties.

James Luther Adams suggested that one sure test of who or what a person worships is the “temperature test.” And what is the temperature test? Just see what goal or cause or loyalty gets us the most steamed up, agitated and excited, and that is our Supreme Being, our “top priority”, “our last resort”.

But, on the other hand, such a faith that the eyes of God are in all places, beholding the evil and the good, saves us from the peril of exempting as home-free certain pet, or soft, or sore spots of our little human domains. King Asa, in Bible times, grew angry when the seer Hanani tells him that the eyes of God have been on him and condemned his faithfulness. Asa had been well content, though, that the eyes of the Lord should be on him numerous times in blessing. And when the prophet came to Samaria with his message that God saw the sins, injustices, and disobedience of him and his people, the cry goes up from Asa and his people: “Go, flee away into another land and there prophesy and there eat bread, but prophesy no longer here in this place.”

Always the temptation for us is to an escapist religion: “Bring us interesting Biblical studies that never get out of the boundaries of the Holy Lands, nor away from the moorings of ancient history to collide with contemporary culture. Bring us the soothing message of God’s word to the Hebrews in Egypt, to Abraham in Haran, to the disciples by Beautiful Galilee, but give us no word of our God to Memphians on October 20, 1957, unless, of course, you have some pleasant and comforting message.”

We do not want to believe God’s eye is on us now, in this moment, in judgment. But it is. We can’t have a doctrine of his awareness of us in our need of his loving mercy, without a doctrine of his awareness of our damning sin. And Christian theology holds from Genesis to Revelation there is no hope of salvation of God without the repentance of people. The only reason God’s eyes are on us in judgment and his voice of severity ringing condemnation in our ears, is that we may be brought to repentance and so made ready to receive the cleansing, saving power his loving eyes wish to behold.

But there is a third implication of such a faith — it presses us relentlessly till we accept a doctrine of Christian vocation. Dr. Alan Richardson has pointed out that: “The Bible knows no instance of a person’s being called to an earthly trade or profession by God. St. Paul, for example, is called by God to be an apostle, he is not called to be a tent maker. We cannot, with propriety, speak of God’s calling someone to be an engineer or a doctor or a schoolmaster. God calls evangelists, pastors and teachers as lay persons in his church.”

Of course this means that “God cares not whether we are executives or laborers. His primary concern is with what kind of a person we are off the job. Do we let our business or civic or club work so absorb us that we are no longer a father, a mother, a friend, a citizen? Do we treat people as human beings or building blocks? Do we brush aside the ordinary standards of courtesy because we are too busy to think about that kind of thing? Maybe we can accept the excuse that “my work is so important” — everything else will have to be secondary. Maybe even our family and friends will say, “Well, that’s just the way he is, and after all, he is so talented that it’s all right.” Or, what if he is quick tempered and treats other people like the dirt under his feet — aren’t all artists and musicians and greatly gifted persons temperamental? But the implication of Christian vocation raises real questions as to whether God uses these same human standards.

If such then is the nature of the bonafide Christian’s faith and these are some of the implications of that faith for life, what will such a faith do for us?

I heard the tap, tap, tapping of a blind man’s stick as he came slowly up the sidewalk. I watched him stop at the intersection, listen carefully for the sound of approaching motors, poke his stick into the black unknown depths between curb and street level, and then cautiously launch out across the danger filled street. While I was still shuddering from the cold chill that ran up my back at this spectacle of hesitant, lonely uncertain humanity, I saw a young lad run skipping up the same sidewalk, pause momentarily at the same curb stone to glance quickly in either direction, and seeing in the clear October sunlight no car in sight, darted confidently across to join his happy playmates on the other side.

How much like a blind man’s life is the daily existence of any one who cannot or does not believe that the eyes of God are in every place to behold the evil and good, keeping watch above his own.  How much like the confident lad is the life of faith.

Such a faith that the eyes of God are on us gives confident and purposeful direction to life.  Captain Horatio Nelson, writing to his father in England from a ship in the Mediterranean on January 1, 1797 began, “My dear father, on this day I am certain you will send me a letter.” Such a sentiment — “It is a touching indication of the too often forgotten family affection which lies behind and helps to account for a brilliant career. Nelson, then no mere boy, but a man of some 40 years, knew that his father would not forget him, but on New Year’s Day would send him a message. Sons and daughters of a more devoted father can surely look up every day and say, with serene confidence, ‘On this day I am certain that thou hast a word for me.’”  (H. S. Coffin — Joy in Believing)

But, even more, such a faith that the eyes of God are upon us supplies added power enabling us to do better than our mere human best. In one of Katherine Masefield’s letters she alludes to the power of fear to make people fail. “When I look back on my life,” she writes, “all my mistakes have been because I was afraid. It seems to me there is a great change come over the world since people like us ceased to believe in God. God is now gone for all of us. Yet we must believe. But we must feel that we are known, that our hearts are known, as God knows us.”

Oh, yes. What it does do for any one of us when we feel that our intentions are known and understood by the ultimate Judge of the universe, however much our words and actions are misunderstood, that God’s eyes behold us not only in all our acts wherever we go, but even in all our thoughts and intentions.

That boy who pitched the best game of his high school athletic career on the Saturday after his blind father died, because, as he put it, “It was the first game my father ever saw me play,” is not so very different from most of us. A faith in one who sees us and understands, imparts a power to outstrip our mere mortal best.

But most glorious of all, such a faith bestows on God’s loyal servants a courage that comes of a reinforcing companionship. God’s eyes are always on us beholding the good and evil, we so soon learn, not simply for the purpose of correcting us or blaming us, but for the purpose of reinforcing our courage and our determination with the support of His presence. “Watch me, Daddy, watch me,” calls the child as he tries a higher dive from the pool springboard.

To frightened men face to face with a bold venture too stupendous for their faint hearts, while they were still puzzling how and where to begin, the Master said, “Go and I will be with you always to the end of the world.” And they did, because He was with them and still is, all the way.