The character of this Amaziah, one of the Kings of Judah, is summed up
by the chronicler in a damning epigram: 'He did that which was right
in the sight of the Lord, but not with a perfect heart.' He was one of
your half-and-half people, or, as Hosea says, 'a cake not turned,'
burnt black on one side, and raw dough on the other. So when he came
to the throne, in the buoyancy and insolence of youth, he immediately
began to aim at conquests in the neighbouring little states; and in
order to strengthen himself he hired 'a hundred thousand mighty men of
valour' out of Israel for a hundred talents of silver. To seek help
from Israel was, in a prophet's eyes, equivalent to flinging off help
from God. So a man of God comes to him, and warns him that the Lord is
not with Israel, and that the alliance is not permissible for him.
But, instead of yielding to the prophet's advice, he parries it with
this misplaced question, 'But what shall we do for the hundred talents
that I have given to the army of Israel?' He does not care to ask
whether the counsel that he is receiving is right or wrong, or whether
what he is intending to do is in conformity with, or in opposition to,
the will of God, but, passing by all such questions, at once he
fastens on the lower consideration of expediency--'What is to become
of me if I do as this prophet would have me do? What a heavy loss one
hundred talents will be! It is too much to sacrifice to a scruple of
that sort. It cannot be done.'

A great many of us may take a lesson from this man. There are two
things in my text--a misplaced question and a triumphant answer: 'What
shall we do for the hundred talents?' 'The Lord is able to give thee
much more than this.' Now, remarkably enough, both question and answer
may be either very right or very wrong, according as they are taken,
and I purpose to look at those two aspects of each.