Matthew 12:20

(Verse 20, 21.) He will not break a bruised reed, and he will not extinguish smoking flax, until he brings forth judgment to victory. And in his name the Gentiles will hope. He who does not reach out his hand to the sinner, nor carries the burden of his brother, he breaks the bruised reed. And he who despises the small spark of faith in the little ones, he extinguishes smoking flax. Christ has done neither of these; for this is why he came, to save what was lost.

He that holds not out his hand to a sinner, nor bears his brother's burden, he breaks a bruised reed; and he who despises a weak spark of faith in a little one, he quenches a smoking flax.

And intimating both His might, and their weakness, he saith, "A bruised reed shall He not break." For indeed it was easy to break them all to pieces like a reed, and not a reed merely, but one already bruised. "And smoking flax shall He not quench." Here he sets forth both their anger that is kindled, and His might that is able to put down their anger, and to quench it with all ease; whereby His great mildness is signified. What then? Shall these things always be? And will He endure them perpetually, forming such frantic plots against Him? Far from it; but when He hath performed His part, then shall He execute the other purposes also. For this He declared by saying "Till He send forth judgment unto victory: and in His name shall the Gentiles trust." As Paul likewise saith, "Having in a readiness to revenge all disobedience, when your obedience is fulfilled." But what is, "when He sends forth judgment unto victory?" When He hath fulfilled all His own part, then, we are told, He will bring down upon them His vengeance also, and that a perfect vengeance. Then shall they suffer His terrors, when His trophy is gloriously set up, and the ordinances that proceed from Him have prevailed, and He hath left them no plea of contradiction, however shameless. For He is wont to call righteousness, "judgment."

There was once a brother who was very eager to seek goodness. Being very disturbed by the demon of lust, he came to a hermit and told him about his thoughts. The hermit was inexperienced and when he heard all this, he was shocked, and …

(ubi sup) So He neither bruised nor quenched the Jewish persecutors, who are here likened to a bruised reed which has lost its wholeness, and to a smoking flax which has lost its flame; but He spared them because He was not come to judge them, but to be judged by them. (Quaest. Ev. i. 3.) In the smoking flax it is observed, that when the flame is out it causes a stink.

He did not eagerly contend with the folly of the rulers, nor did he scream and provoke them to anger against himself. Rather, with gentleness Jesus withdrew slowly so that he might not, in confuting them, cause them to be destroyed while they were still …

Or, Until that judgment which was being done in Him should come forth to victory. For after that by His resurrection He had overcome death, and driven forth the prince of this world, He returned as conqueror to His kingdom to sit on the right hand of the Father, until He shall put all His enemies under His feet.

So that the Jews would have no excuse, Christ endured all things, so that later He might condemn and overcome those who could say nothing in their own defense. What did He not do to win them over? But the Jews were not willing; therefore …

He could have crushed the Jews, he says, like a broken reed, and could have quenched their anger like a smoldering wick, but Jesus did not wish to do so until He had fulfilled His dispensation and defeated them in every way. For this is …

And also in deed: he will not break a bruised reed. And this in two ways: for it can be referred specifically to the Jews; secondly, in a general sense to all. In regard to the Jews there were two things in them, namely, a …

Christ's judgment will be brought forth to victory, for when he judges he will overcome. He shall bring forth judgment unto truth; so it is, Isa. xlii. Truth and victory are much the same, for great is the truth, and will prevail.

Christ and his kingdom come not with observation, Luke xvii. When the First-begotten was brought into the world, it was not with state and ceremony; he made no public entry, had no harbingers to proclaim him King. He was in the world and the world knew him not.

The scope of it is to show how mild and quiet, and yet how successful, our Lord Jesus should be in his undertaking; instances of both which we have in the foregoing passages. The pleasure of the Father in Christ (

quarantine:debris (2026-07-29) — unbalanced-parens

The first thing which demands our notice in this passage is the desperate wickedness of the human heart, which it exemplifies. Silenced and defeated by our Lord’s arguments, the Pharisees plunged deeper and deeper into sin. They “went out and held a council against Him how they might destroy Him.” What evil had our Lord done, that he should be so treated? None, none at all. No charge could be brought against his life. He was holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners; his days were spent in doing good. No charge could be brought against his teaching.

A bruised reed shall he not break, and smoking flax shall he not quench, till he send forth judgment unto victory--"unto truth," says the Hebrew original, and the Septuagint also.

quarantine:scripture (2026-07-29) — scripture-overlap:81%@v20-22

Babbling fame ever loves to talk of one man or another. Some there be whose glory it trumpets forth, and whose honor it extols above the heavens. Some are her favorites, and their names are carved on marble, and heard in every land, and every clime. Fame is not an impartial judge; she has her favorites. Some men she extols, exalts, and almost deifies; others, whose virtues are far greater, and whose characters are more deserving of commendation, she passes by unheeded, and puts the finger of silence on her lips.

The first thing which demands our notice in this passage is the desperate wickedness of the human heart, which it exemplifies. Silenced and defeated by our Lord’s arguments, the Pharisees plunged deeper and deeper into sin. They “went out and held a council against Him how they might destroy Him.” What evil had our Lord done, that he should be so treated? None, none at all. No charge could be brought against his life. He was holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners; his days were spent in doing good. No charge could be brought against his teaching. He had proved it to be agreeable to Scripture and reason, and no reply had been made to his proofs. But it mattered little how perfectly he lived or taught: he was hated. This is human nature appearing in its true colors! The unconverted heart hates God, and will show its hatred whenever it dares, and has a favorable opportunity. It will persecute God’s witnesses; it will dislike all who have anything of God’s mind and are renewed after his image. Why were so many of the prophets killed? Why were the names of the apostles cast out as evil by the Jews? Why were the early martyrs slain? Why were John Hus, and Jerome of Prague, andRidley and Latimer burned at the stake? Not for any sins that they had sinned, not for any wickedness they had committed. They all suffered because they were godly men. And human nature, unconverted, hates godly men because it hates God. It must never surprise true Christians if they meet with the same treatment that the Lord Jesus met with. “Marvel not if the world hates you” ( 1 John 3:13 ). It is not the utmost consistency or the closest walk with God that will exempt them from the enmity of the natural man. They need not torture their consciences by fancying that if they were only more faultless and consistent, everybody would surely love them. It is all a mistake.

Babbling fame ever loves to talk of one man or another. Some there be whose glory it trumpets forth, and whose honor it extols above the heavens. Some are her favorites, and their names are carved on marble, and heard in every land, and every clime. Fame is not an impartial judge; she has her favorites. Some men she extols, exalts, and almost deifies; others, whose virtues are far greater, and whose characters are more deserving of commendation, she passes by unheeded, and puts the finger of silence on her lips. You will generally find that those persons beloved by fame are men made of brass or iron, and cast in a rough mould. Fame caresseth Caesar, because he ruled the earth with a rod of iron. Fame loves Luther, because he boldly and manfully defied the Pope of Rome, and with knit brow dared laugh at the thunders of the Vatican. Fame admires Knox; for he was stern, and proved himself the bravest of the brave. Generally, you will find her choosing out the men of fire and mettle, who stood before their fellow-creatures fearless of them; men who were made of courage; who were consolidated lumps of fearlessness, and never knew what timidity might be. But you know there is another class of persons equally virtuous, and equally to be esteemed—perhaps even more so—whom fame entirely forgets. You do not hear her talk of the gentle-minded Melancthon—she says but little of him—yet he did as much, perhaps, in the Reformation, as even the mighty Luther. You do not hear fame talk much of the sweet and blessed Rutherford, and of the heavenly words that distilled from his lips; or of Archbishop Leighton, of whom it was said, that he was never out of temper in his life.

EVERY single fragment of Scripture is precious. Short texts culled here and there, as subjects of meditation, are useful. At the same time the practice of discoursing upon disconnected extracts may be carried too far, and sometimes the meaning of a passage may be entirely lost by not regarding its connection. The Bible ought to be treated in the reading of it as any other book is treated, only with much more of reverential regard.

EVERY single fragment of Scripture is precious. Short texts culled here and there, as subjects of meditation, are useful. At the same time the practice of discoursing upon disconnected extracts may be carried too far, and sometimes the meaning of a passage may be entirely lost by not regarding its connection. The Bible ought to be treated in the reading of it as any other book is treated, only with much more of reverential regard. Suppose that Milton's "Paradise Lost" were used as a textbook—and that its general mode of usage were to take separate lines disconnected from the rest of the great poem—and consider them as positive statements and suitable topics of meditation? It would be a dangerous experiment! The great poet might well stir in his grave at the proposal. There are grand lines in that matchless epic which would bear the process, and glow like diamonds upon a regal brow, but nobody would form any worthy idea of the glory of the "Paradise Lost" by having it presented in portions, lines and selected passages. Such a mode of study reminds me of the Grecian student, who, when he had a house to sell, carried a brick about the streets to show what kind of a house it was. The Bible ought not to be torn limb from limb and its joints hung up like meat in the shambles. Beyond all other books it will bear dissection, for it is vital in every sentence and word. Since it is a mosaic of priceless gems, you will be enriched even if you extract a jewel here and there—but to behold its Divine beauty you must contemplate the mosaic as a whole. No idea of the magnificent design of the entire Scriptures can enter the human mind by reading it in detached portions, especially if those separated passages are interpreted without reference to the run of the writer's thoughts.