A Vexed Soul Comforted
(No. 2557)
A SERMON INTENDED FOR READING ON LORD'S-DAY, FEBRUARY 20, 1898.
DELIVERED BY C. H. SPURGEON,
AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON, ON LORD'S-DAY EVENING,
JANUARY 21, 1883.
"The Almighty hats vexed my soul." Job 27:2.
THE word, "who," was put into this verse by the translators, but it is
not needed. It is better as I have read it to you, "The Almighty has
vexed my soul." The marginal reading is, perhaps, a more exact
translation of the original–"The Almighty has embittered my soul."
From this we learn that a good man may have his soul vexed. He may not
be able to preserve the serenity of his mind. We think and think
rightly, that a Christian man should "glory in tribulations, also," and
rise superior to all outward afflictions. But it is not always so with
us. It is necessary, sometimes, that we should be "in heaviness through
manifold temptations." Not only are the temptations needed for the
trial of our faith, but it is even necessary that we should be in
heaviness through them. I hardly imagine that the most quiet and
restful Believers have always been unruffled. I can scarcely think that
even those whose peace is like a river have always been made to flow on
with calm and equable current. Even to rivers there are rapids and
cataracts, and so, I think, in the most smoothly-flowing life, there
surely must be breaks of distraction and of distress. At any rate, it
was so with Job. His afflictions, aggravated by the accusations of his
so-called friends, at last made the iron enter into his very soul and
his spirit was so troubled that he cried, "The Almighty has embittered
my soul!"
It is also clear, from our text, that a good man may trace the vexation
of his soul distinctly to God. It was not merely that Job's former
troubles had come from God, for he had borne up under them–when all he
had was gone, he had still blessed the name of the Lord with holy
serenity. But God had permitted these three eminent and distinguished
men, mighty in speech, to come about him, to rub salt into his wounds,
and so to increase his agony. At first, too, God did not seem to help
him in the debate, although afterwards He answered all the accusations
of Job's friends and put them to the rout. Yet, for a time, Job had to
stand like a solitary champion against all three of them and, against
young Elihu, too. So he looked up to Heaven and he said, "The Almighty
has embittered my soul. That is the end of the controversy. I can see
from where all my troubles come."
Advancing a step further, we notice that in all this, Job did not rebel
against God, or speak a word against Him. He swore by that very God who
had vexed his soul. See how it stands here–"As God lives, who has
taken away my judgment, and the Almighty, who has vexed my soul." He
stood fast to it that this God was the true God. He called Him good, he
believed Him to be almighty–it never occurred to Job to bring a
railing accusation against God, or to start aside from his allegiance
to Him. He is a truly brave man who can say with Job, "'Though He slay
me, yet will I trust in Him.' Let God deal with me as He will, yet He
is good and I will praise His name. What if He has vexed my soul? He
has a right to vex me, so I will not kick against the pricks. Let Him
grieve me, let Him put gall and wormwood into my cup if so it shall
please Him, but still will I magnify His name, for He is good and only
good." Here is the strength of the saints–here is the glory which God
gets out of true Believers–that they cannot and will not be soured
against their
God!
Now go another step and notice that this embittering of Job's soul was
intended for his good. The Patriarch was to have his wealth doubled and
he, therefore, needed double Grace that he might be able to bear the
burden. He was also to be a far holier man than he had been at the
first. Perfect and upright as he seemed to be, he was to rise a stage
higher. If his character had been deficient in anything, perhaps it was
deficient in humility. Truly Job was no proud man, he was generous,
kind and meek, but, possibly, he had a little too high a notion of his
own character, so even thatmust be taken away from him. Other Divine
Graces must be added to those he already possessed. He must have a
tenderness of spirit which appears to have been lacking. He must become
as gentle as a maid. As he had been firm as a man of war, consequently,
this bitterness of soul was meant to help him towards perfection of
character. When that end was accomplished, all the bitterness was
turned into sweetness. God made the travail of his soul to be forgotten
by reason of the joy that came of it. Job no longer thought of the
dunghill and the potsherd, and the lost sheep, and the consumed
camels–he only thought of the goodness of God who had restored
everything to him, again, and given him back the dew of his youth and
the freshness of his spirit.
Child of God, are you vexed and embittered in soul? Then bravely accept
the trial as coming from your Father and say, "The cup which my Father
has given me, shall I not drink it?" "Shall we receive good at the hand
of God, and shall we not receive evil?" Press on through the cloud
which now lowers directly in your pathway–it may be with you as it was
with the disciples on the Mount of Transfiguration, "they feared as
they entered the cloud," yet in that cloud they saw their Master's
Glory and they found it good to be there. Fear not, have confidence in
God–all your sorrows shall yet end in joy and the thing which you
deplore, today, shall be the subject of tomorrow's sweetest songs. The
Egyptians whom you have seen today, you shall see no more forever.
Therefore, be of good courage and let your hearts be strengthened.
I am going to take the text right away from its connection. Having
explained it as it relates to Job and those like Job, I want to use it
for the benefit of anyone else who can fitly use the expression, "The
Almighty has vexed my soul." My sermon will be like an archer's
arrow–God knows where the heart is at which I am aiming. I draw the
bow at a ven-ture–the Lord will direct the bolt between the joints of
the harness of the one it is intended to strike.
I. First, I shall speak upon A PERSONAL FACT. Many a person has to say,
"The Almighty has embittered my soul."
This happened to you, dear Friend, perhaps, through a series of very
remarkable troubles. Few persons were happier than Job and few have
found misfortunes tread so fast upon one another's heels. What were the
troubles in your case? It may be that one child was taken away and then
another–and yet a third. Or, perhaps, your infant was carried to the
grave, to be soon followed by its dear mother, and you are left to
mourn alone. Bereavement has followed bereavement with you until your
very soul is embittered. Or it may be that there is one ill at home and
you fear that precious life cannot be preserved–your cup seems full of
trembling. Or, possibly, you have had a series of disasters in business
such as you could not have foreseen or prevented. It seems, to you,
indeed, as if no man was ever so unsuccessful–you have not prospered
in anything. Wherever you have put your hand, it has been like the hoof
of the Tartar's horse which turns the meadow into a desert–nothing
goes well with you. Perhaps you have desired to be a man of learning.
You have worked very hard and now your health is failing you, so that
you cannot go through the examination for which you have been
preparing. You would willingly die at your post if you had a hope of
gaining the honor to which you aspire, but this is denied you. On the
very doorstep of success, you are stopped. God seems to have embittered
your life.
Or you of the tender heart have been disappointed and rejected, and
your love has been thrown away. Or you of the energetic spirit have
been foiled and driven back so many times that you perceive that your
attempts are fruitless. Or you, a man of true integrity, have been
cruelly slandered and you feel as if you could not bear up under the
false charge that is in the air all around you. Ah, I know what
thatmeans! There are many like you, with whom the Almighty is dealing
in all wisdom and goodness, as I shall have to show you.
It may be, however, that you have not had a succession of troubles, but
you have had one trial constantly gnawing at your heart. It is only
one, but that one you are half-ashamed to mention, for it seems so
trifling when you try to tell it to another. But to you it is as when a
wasp stings and continues to sting–it irritates and worries you. You
try patience, but you have not much of that virtue. You seek to escape
from the trouble, but it is always boring into your very heart. It is
only some one little thing–not the devil, only a messenger of Satan,
one of his errand boys, one of the small fry of trouble. You cannot
make out how you can be so foolish as to let it worry you, but it does.
If you rise up early, or if you sit up late, it is still there
tormenting you. You cannot get rid of it and you cry, "The Almighty has
embittered my soul." Time was when you would have laughed at such
things and put them aside with a wave of your hand–but now they follow
you into business, they are with you at the desk, they come home with
you, they go to bed with you–and they worry you even in your dreams.
Perhaps I have not yet hit the mark with you, my Friend. It is neither
a succession of troubles nor yet any one trouble. In fact, you have no
trouble at all in the sense of which I have been speaking. Your
business prospers, you are in fine health, your children are about you,
everyone holds you in good esteem–yet your very soul is embittered. I
hope that it has become saddened through a sense of sin. At one time
you did not think that there was any fault to be found with you, but
you have had a peep in the mirror of the Word, the Spirit of God
holding the candle. You have had a glimpse of yourself, your inner life
and your condition before God and, therefore, your soul is vexed. Ah,
many of us have gone through that experience and, wretched as it is, we
congratulate you upon it! We are glad that it is so with you!
Is it more than a sense of sin? Is it a sense of wrath as well? Does it
strike you that God is angry with you and has turned His hand against
you? Does this seem to loosen the very joints of your bones? Ah, this
is a dreadful state of heart, indeed–to feel God's hand day and night
upon you till your moisture is turned into the drought of summer! Yet,
again I congratulate you on it, for the pilgrim path to Heaven is by
Weeping Cross–the road to joy and peace is by the way of a sense of
sin and a sense of the Lord's anger!
It may be that this is not exactly your case, but you are restless and
weary. Somehow you cannot be easy, you cannot be at peace. Someone
recommended you go to a play, but it seemed such a dull piece of
stupidity you came away worse than you went! Your doctor says that you
must have a change of air. "Oh," you cry, "I have had 50 changes of air
and I do not improve a bit!" You are even weary of that in which you
once delighted. Your ordinary pursuits, which once satisfied you, now
seem to be altogether stale, flat and unprofitable. The books that
charmed your leisure have grown wearisome. The friends whose
conversation once entranced you, now seem to talk but idle chit-chat
and frivolity.
Besides all that, there is an undefined dread upon you. You cannot tell
exactly what it is like, but you almost fear to fall asleep lest you
should dream and dreaming should begin to feel the wrath to come. When
you wake in the morning, you are sorry to find that you are where you
are and you address yourself sadly to the day's business, saying,
"Well, I will go on with it, but I have no joy in it at all. The
Almighty has embittered my soul." This happens to hundreds and they do
not know what it means, they cannot understand it–but I hope that I
may be privileged to so explain it that some may have to say that never
did a better thing happen to them than when they fell into this
state–that never, in all their lives, did they take so blessed a
turning as when they came down this dark lane and began to murmur, "The
Almighty has embittered my soul."
II. From this personal fact of which I have spoken, I want to draw AN
INSTRUCTIVE ARGUEMENT which has two edges.
The first is this. If the Almighty–note that word, "Almighty"–has
vexed your soul as much as He has, how much more is He able to vex it?
If He has embittered your life up to the present point and He is,
indeed, almighty, what more of bitterness may He not yet give you? You
may go from being very low in spirit to being yet more heavy even unto
despair. You may even come to be like Bunyan's man in the iron cage, or
like the demoniac wandering among the tombs! Remember what God has done
in the case of some men and if He can do that on earth, what can He not
do in Hell? If this world, which is the place of mercy, yet contains in
it men so wretched that they would rather die than live, what must be
the misery of those who linger in a state of eternal death–and yet
from whom death forever flies? O my God, when my soul was broken as
between the two great millstones of Your justice and Your wrath, how my
spirit was alarmed! But if You could do this to me here, what could You
not have done to me hereafter if I had passed out of this world into
the next with un-forgiven sin? I want everyone who is in sore
soul-trouble to think over this solemn Truth of God and consider what
God can yet do with him.
Now turn the argument the other way. If it is the Almighty who has
troubled us, surely He can also comfort us. He that is strong to sink,
is also strong to save. If He is almighty to embitter, He must also be
almighty to sweeten. Draw, then, this comfortable conclusion–"I am not
in such a state of misery that God cannot lift me right out of it into
supreme joy." It is congenial to God's Nature to make His creatures
happy. He delights not in their sorrow, but if, when He does make them
sorrowful, He can make life unendurable–if His anger can fill a man
with terror so that he fears his own steps and starts at his own
shadow–if God can do that on the one hand, what can He not do on the
other? He can turn our mourning into music! He can take off from us the
ashes and the sackcloth and clothe us in beauty and delight!
God can lift up your head, poor Mourner, sorrowing under sin and a fear
of wrath. I tell you, God can at once forgive your sin, turn away all
His wrath and give you a sense of perfect pardon–and with it a sense
of his undying love! Oh, yes, that word, "Almighty," cuts both ways! It
makes us tremble and so it kills our pride. But it also makes us hope
and so it slays our despair. I put in that little piece of argument
just by the way.
III. Now I come to my third point which is more directly in my road.
And that is this. Here is A HEALTHFUL ENQUIRY for everyone whose soul
has been vexed by God.
The enquiry is, first, is not God just in vexing my soul?Listen. Some
of you have long vexed Him–you have grieved His Holy Spirit for years!
Why, my dear Man, God called you when you were but a boy! Or very
gently He drew you while you were yet a young man. You almost yielded
to the importunity of a dying friend who is now in Heaven. Those were
all gentle strokes, but you heeded them not–you would not return unto
the Lord. And now, if He should see fit to lay His hand very heavily
upon you and vex you in His hot displeasure, have you not first vexed
Him? Have you not ill-used Him? If you would not come to Him in the
light, it is very gracious of Him if He permits you to come in the
dark. I do not wonder if He whips you to Himself, seeing that you would
not come when, like a father beckoning a little child, He smiled at you
and wooed you to Him.
I might say to others, if God brings you to Himself by a rough road,
you must not wonder, for have not you many a time vexed your godly
wife? When seeing friends who come to join the Church, I am often
struck with the way in which converts have to confess that, in former
days, they made it very hard for their families. There are some men who
cannot speak without swearing–at the very name of Christ they begin to
curse and to swear! They seem as if they hated their children for being
good–and could not be too hard upon their wives because they try to be
righteous in the sight of God. Well, if you vex God's people, you must
not be surprised if He vexes you! He will give you a hard time of it,
it may be, but if it ends in your salvation, I shall not need to pity
you, however hard it may be for you! There is one thing more you may
say to yourself, and that is, "It is much better to get to Heaven by a
rough road than to go singing down to Hell. O my God, tear me in
pieces, but save me! Let my conscience drive me to the very borders of
despair if You will but give me the blood of Christ to quiet it. Only
make sure work of my eternal salvation and I will not mind what I have
to suffer!" I shall bless God for you, dear Friend, and you will bless
God for yourself, too, if you are but brought to Him, even though you
have to say, "The Almighty has vexed my soul."
Another point of enquiry is this– What can be God's design in vexing
your soul? Surely He has a kind design in it all. God is never anything
but good. Rest assured that He takes no delight in your miseries–it is
no pleasure to Him that you should sit, and sigh, and groan and cry. I
mean that such an experience, in itself, affords Him no pleasure, but
He has a design in it. What can that design be? May it not be, first,
to make you think of Him? You forgot Him when the bread was plentiful
upon the table, so He is going to try what a hungry belly will do for
you when you would gladly fill it with the husks that the swine eat.
You forgot Him when everything went merry as a marriage peal–it may be
that you will remember Him, now that your children are dying, or your
father is taken away! These trials are sent to remind you that there is
a God. There are some men who go on by the space of 40 years, together,
and whether there is a God or not, is a question which they do not care
to answer. At least they live as if there were no God–they are
practically atheists. This stroke has come that you may say, "Yes,
there is a God, for I feel the rod that He holds in His hand. He is
crushing me, He is grinding me to powder. I must think of Him."
It may be, too, that He is sending this trial to let you know that He
thinks of you. "Ah," you say, "I did not suppose that He thought of me.
I thought that surely He had forgotten such an one as I am." But He
does think of you. He has been thinking of you for many a day and
calling and inviting you to Him–but you would neither listen nor
obey–and now that He has come, He means to make you see that He loves
you too well to let you be lost! You are having His blows right and
left, to let you know that He thinks of you and will not let you
perish. When God does not care for a man, He flings the reins onto His
neck and says, "There! Let him go!" Now see how the horses tear
away–you need not lash them–they will go as though they had wings and
could fly! Leave a man to himself and his lusts drag him, post haste,
to Hell. He pants to destroy himself! But when God loves a man, He
pulls him up as you might pull your horse on to his haunches. He shall
not do as he wills–the eternal God, in infinite mercy, will not let
him! He tugs at the reins and makes the man feel that there is a
mightier than he who will not let him ruin himself,
But who will restrain him from rushing to his destruction? Am I
speaking to any who are in this plight? Let them not kick against God,
but rather be grateful that He condescends thus to meddle with their
sinful souls and check them in their mad career! I have spoken lately
with some who were about to join this Church, who, if friends had said,
five or six months ago, that they would have been sitting on that chair
talking to me about their souls, would have cursed them to their faces!
Yet they were obliged to come. The Lord had hold of them–they tried to
break away, but He had them too firmly! They were caught by my Lord and
Master as a good fisherman will catch a salmon, if once it takes his
bait–he lets it run for a while and then pulls it up a bit, and then
lets it go again. But he brings it to land at last–and I have had the
pleasure of seeing many sinners thus safely caught by Christ! It may
be, dear Friend, that the Almighty is vexing you to let you see that He
loves you!
May it not be also for another reason–that He may wean you entirely
from the world? He is making you loathe it. "Oh," you used to say, "I
am a young man and I must see life!" Well, you have seen it, have you
not? And do you not think that it is wonderfully like death and
corruption? That which is called, "London life," is a foul, loathsome,
crawling thing, fit only for the dunghill! Well, you have seen it, and
you have had enough of it, have you not? Perhaps your very bones can
tell what you gained by that kind of life. "Oh," you said, "but I must
try the intoxicating cup!" Well, what did you think of it the morning
after you tried it? "Who has woe? Who has sorrow? Who has contention?
Who has babbling? Who has wounds without cause? Who has redness of
eyes? They that tarry long at the wine–they that go to seek mixed
wine." I saw a man of that kind in the street, the other day. Once he
was a most respectable man who could consort with others and be
esteemed by them. Now he is dreadfully down at the heel. I think I saw
a toe through each of his shoes and he looked like the wretched being
that he is. He shuffled from place to place as if he did not wish to be
seen–and he did not lift himself up until he got into the gin palace
to take another draught of Hell-water–and then he seemed, for a
minute, to be drawn straight again by that which made him crooked!
You know the man–is he here tonight? Dear Sir, have you not had
sufficient strong drink? God has let you have enough of it that you may
hate it from this hour and flee away from it, never to desire to go
back to it again! I heard, at Boulogne, the story of a Frenchman who
had been drinking heavily, and who threw himself into the harbor. Some
sailors plunged in and rescued him. The man was on the deck of a ship,
but in a minute he broke away from his keepers and jumped in again. It
was not pleasant to be trying to save a madman, again and again, yet
they did get him out and took him down below. But he rushed on deck and
jumped in a third time. A man there said, "You leave him to me." So he
jumped overboard and seized hold of him, put his head under the water
and held him there. When he managed to get his head up, his rescuer
gave him another ducking, and then another, till he just about filled
him up with water. He said to himself, "I will sicken him of it, so
that he will never jump in here again." He just diluted the eau-de-vie
the man had taken and then he dragged him on board ship–and there was
no fear of his jumping overboard any more! And I believe that,
sometimes, the Lord acts like that with men. He did so with me–He made
sin to be exceedingly bitter to my soul, till I loathed it–and it has
often given me a trembling even to think of those sins that then were
pleasurable to me. It is a blessed thing to be plucked out of the water
and saved, once and for all, but a little of that sailor's style of
sousing the drunkard–a little of those terrors and alarms that some of
us felt is not lost! And when the Lord thus deals with sinners, it is
with the design that they may never want to go back to those sins
again. They have had their full of them and henceforth they will keep
clear of them. It may be that the Almighty vexed some of you for this
cause, that you might, from then on, hate sin with a perfect hatred.
Do you say, my Friend, that I have not been describing you? You are
still a gentleman, an excellent well-to-do man? You have done nothing
wrong in the way of vice, but still you cannot rest? No, and God grant
that you never may rest till you come humbly to the Savior's feet,
confess your sin and look to Him alone for salvation! Then you shall
rest with that deep "peace which passes all understanding," which
shall, "keep your heart and mind by Christ Jesus" forever and ever.
I think I hear someone say (and with that I will finish), "As the
Almighty has vexed my soul; what had I better do? thought, Sir, when I
came in here that I was a castaway, but I see that I am the man you are
looking after. I thought that I was too wretched to be saved, but now I
perceive that it is to the wretched that you are preaching. It is for
the mourning, the melancholy and the desponding. What had I better do?"
Do? Go home and shut your door, and have an hour alone with yourself
and God! You can afford that time–it is Sunday night and you do not
need the time for anything else. That hour alone with God may be the
crisis of your whole life–try it!
"And when I am alone with God, what had I better do?" Well, first, tell
Him all your grief. Then tell Him all your sin–all you can remember.
Hide nothing from Him! Lay it all, naked and bare, before Him. Then ask
Him to blot it all out, once and for all, for Jesus Christ's sake. Tell
Him that you can never rest till you are at peace with Him. Tell Him
that you accept His way of making peace, namely, by the blood of the
Cross. Tell Him that you are now willing to trust His dear Son for
everything and to accept salvation freely as the gift of Sovereign
Grace. If you do so, you will rise from your knees a happy man and,
what is more, a renewed man! I will stand bondsman for God about this
matter. If there is this honest confession, this hearty prayer and this
simple acceptance of Christ as your Savior, the days of your mourning
are ended, the daylight of your spirit shall be beginning and I should
not wonder if many of your present troubles come to an end! Certainly
your heart-ache shall be ended and ended at once. Oh, that you would
accept my Savior!
Sometimes, when I am thinking about my Hearers and my work, I seem to
take God's part instead of yours, and to say, "O God, I have preached
Christ to them. I have told them about Your dear Son and how Your
fatherly heart parted with Him that He might die that men might
live–yet they do not care for Him! They will not have Your Son. They
will not accept the pardon that Jesus bought." If the Lord were to say
to me, "Then never go and say another word to them, they have so
insulted Me in refusing such a gift," I have at times felt as if I
would say, "Lord, that is quite right. I do not want to have anything
more to do with them as they treat You so shamefully." But we have not
reached that point yet, so once more I put it to you–have you not
delayed long enough? Have you not questioned long enough? Have you not
turned away from the Savior long enough? And now that the arrows of God
are sticking in you, will you not ask Him to draw them out? Will you
not plead that the precious blood of Christ may be balm to heal your
wounds?
Oh, come to Him! In the name of Jesus of Nazareth, I beseech you, come!
By amazing love and amazing pity, by wondrous Grace that abounds over
sin, come and welcome! Jesus said, "He that comes to Me, I will in no
wise cast out." Then come to Him and come now! Blessed Spirit, draw
them! Draw them now, for Jesus Christ's sake! Amen.
EXPOSITION BY C. H. SPURGEON: JOB27
Remember that Job's friends had accused him of having committed some
great sin which would account for his great sorrows. The good man is
naturally very indignant and he uses the strongest possible language to
cast away from himself with horror the charges which they brought
against him in the day of his grief.
Verses 1-4. Moreover Job continued his parable and said, As God lives,
who has taken away my judgment; and the Almighty, who has vexed my
soul; all the while my breath is in me, and the spirit of God is in my
nostrils, my lips shall not speak wickedness, nor my tongue utter
deceit. He felt that it would be wicked for him to confess to what he
had never done–it would be deceit for him to acknowledge crimes which
he had never committed. Therefore he most solemnly declares, by the
living God, that he never will permit the lie to pass his lips. He had
not transgressed against God in the way his friends insinuated and he
would not admit that he had.
5. God forbid that I should justify you: till I die I will not remove
my integrity from me. We are bound to keep to the truth. No man is
permitted, with mock humility, to make himself out to be what he is
not. Job was right, so far in standing up for the integrity of his
character, for he was a man of such uprightness that even the devil
could not find fault with him. He was such a holy man that God could
say to Satan, "Have you considered My servant, Job, that there is none
like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that fears God
and eschews evil?" And all that the devil could do was to insinuate
that he had a selfish motive for his goodness. "Have not You made an
hedge about him, and about his house, and about all that he has on
every side? You have blessed the work of his hands and his substance is
increased in the land. But put forth Your hand, now, and touch all that
he has, and he will curse You to Your face." Job was upright, yet we
are never so right but what there is a mixture of wrong with our right!
A man may very easily become self-righteous when he is defending his
own character. There may be a 1ack of admissions of faults unperceived.
There may be a blindness to faults that ought to have been
perceived–and something of that imperfection, doubtless, was in the
Patriarch.
6. My righteousness I hold fast, and will not let it go: my heart shall
not reproach me so long as I live. There he went too far, for he had
not yet seen God as he afterwards saw Him. Before man, there was
nothing with which he needed to reproach himself. But how he changed
his tone when God drew near to him! Then he said, "I have heard of You
by the hearing of the ear: but now my eyes see You. Therefore I abhor
myself and repent in dust and ashes." If we knew more of God, we would
think less of ourselves. If those who consider themselves perfect, had
any idea of what perfection is, their comeliness would be turned in
them to corruption!
7, 8. Let my enemy be as the wicked, and he that rises up against me as
the unrighteous. For what is the hope of the hypocrite, though he has
gained, when God takes away his soul?That is a very solemn, searching
question. If a man tries to play fast and loose with God, if he is a
hypocrite, and if he should gain by his hypocrisy all that he tries to
gain, namely, repute among men, "what is his hope when God takes away
his soul?" Then, his hope is turned to horror, for he has to stand
before Him who cannot be deceived, but who reads him through and
through, and casts him away because he has dared to insult his Maker by
attempting to deceive Omniscience. Oh, may you and I never play the
hypocrite's part! There cannot be a more foolish thing and there cannot
be a more wicked thing.
9. Will God hear his cry when trouble comes upon him? That is one of
the tests of the hypocrite–"Will God hear his cry when trouble comes
upon him?" Will the hypocrite cry to God at all? Will he not give up
even his profession of religion when he loses his prosperity? And if he
does cry, will God hear the double-tongued man?
10. Will he delight himself in the Almighty? Will he always call upon
God? These questions, while they condemn those who are hypocrites, are
comforting to many a sincere heart. Dear Friend, do you delight
yourself in God? Do you really admire Him, love Him and seek to glorify
Him? Then you are no hypocrite, for no hypocrite ever found delight in
religion and especially no hypocrite ever found delight in God Himself!
"Will he always call upon God?" No, there are certain times when he
will cease to pray. Pleasure enchants him and he will not pray. Or,
perhaps, he is so discouraged and despairing that he cannot pray. There
are times when the hypocrite gives up praying, but the Christian cannot
give it up–it is his vital breath–he must pray. No sorrow is so deep
as to take him off it! No joy is so fascinating as to seduce him from
prayer. But as for the hypocrite, "Will he always call upon God?" No,
you may rest assured that he will not.
11. I will teach you by the hand of God. Or, better, as the margin
runs, "I will teach you being in the hand of God. " Being himself
chastened and experiencing the teaching of God, Job says to his
friends, "I will teach you."
11-14. That which is with the Almighty will I not conceal Behold, all
you yourselves have seen it; why then are you thus altogether vain?
This is the portion of a wicked man with God, and the heritage of
oppressors, which they shall receive of the Almighty. If his children
are multiplied, it is for the sword: and his offspring shall not be
satisfied with bread. If God does not visit the hypocrite with
punishment in his own person, it will certainly fall upon the next
generation.
15-18. Those that remain of him shall be buried in death: and his
widows shall not weep. Though he heaps up silver as the dust, and
prepares raiment as the day; he may prepare it, but the just shall put
it on, and the innocent shall divide the silver He builds his house as
a moth, and as a booth that the keeper makes. ' 'He builds his house as
a moth," which makes its home in the cloth and the servant's brush
knocks it all out and destroys the moth's children, too. "And as a
booth that the keeper makes." The hypocrite's house is no better than
that little shanty which the keeper of a vineyard puts up with a few
boughs or mats, to sit under it from the heat of the sun. God save us
from being such poor builders as this! May we build a house that is
founded on the Rock!
19. The rich man shall lie down, but he shall not be gathered: he opens
his eyes, and he is not He has grown rich by oppression, he has become
great in the land by his hypocrisy, but he speedily goes down to the
grave. God looks at him and he is gone.
20. Terrors take hold on him as waters, a tempest steals him away in
the night. This is a parallel passage to that word of our Lord, "But he
that hears, and does not, is like a man that without a foundation built
an house upon the earth; against which the stream did beat vehemently,
and immediately it fell; and the ruin of that house was great."
21. The east wind carries him away, and he departs and as a storm hurls
him out of his place. These are your great ones, your proud ones, your
strong men that accomplish nothing and would insure their own lives to
a certainty for the next 20 years! Look how they go! Shadows are not
more evanescent! A poor moth is not more easily crushed.
22. For God shall cast upon him, and not spare: he would gladly flee
out of His hand. The man would escape from God if he could. It was
Job's glory, as we read just now, that he was in God's hand. But the
hypocrite would gladly flee out of God's hand, yet that is altogether
impossible.
23. Men shall clap their hands at him, and shall hiss him out of
hisplace. Such ignominy shall be poured upon the hypocrite at the last,
that all mankind shall endorse the sentence of God which condemns him!
And shame and everlasting contempt shall be his portion. The Lord save
all of us from such an awful doom, for Christ's sake! Amen.