“Am I A Sea, Or A Whale?”

"Am I A Sea, Or A Whale?"

(No. 2206)

A SERMON INTENDED FOR READING ON LORD'S DAY, MAY 31, 1891,

DELIVERED BY C. H. SPURGEON,

AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON, ON BEHALF OF THE BRITISH AND
FOREIGN SAILORS' SOCIETY, ON THURSDAY EVENING, MAY 7, 1891.

"Am I a sea, or a whale, that You set a watch over me?" Job 7:12.

JOB was in great pain when he thus bitterly complained. These moans
came from him when his skin was broken and had become loathsome and he
sat upon a dunghill and scraped himself with a potsherd. We are amazed
at his patience, but we are not amazed at his impatience! He had fits
of complaining and failed in that very patience for which he was noted.
Where God's saints are most glorious, there you will find their spots.
The weaknesses of the saints lie near their strength. Elijah is the
bravest of the brave and flees from Jezebel. Moses is the meekest of
the meek and speaks in passion. Job is the most patient of men and
cries, "I will not refrain my mouth; I will speak in the anguish of my
spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul." As part of his
bitter complaint, he asks, "Am I a sea, or a whale, that You set a
watch over me?"

He seemed to be watched and whipped–and then watched again. It seemed
to him that God concentrated all His strength upon him in afflicting
him. He was beaten black and blue and, whereas, other culprits had 40
stripes save one, he had 50 stripes save none! He was spared no
suffering and, he cries at last, "I am watched, and checked, as if I
were a great sea needing always to be held in bounds or a terrible sea
monster needing always a hook in its jaws. Lord, why do You harass me
thus? I am such a poor, insignificant thing, that it seems out of Your
usual way to be so rough upon one so feeble. The raging ocean, or the
mighty leviathan may need such watching, but why do You spend it on me?
Am I a sea, or a whale, that You set a watch over me?"

I shall not moor myself to Job's sense of the words, but I shall spread
my sail for a voyage further out to sea. This sort of talk may have
been used by many a man who is now within hail of my voice–may have
been used by sailors now before me.

Let me point out the channel along which I shall steer in my discourse.
We shall begin by saying that some men seem to be narrowly watched by
God. They think that the Lord's eyes are as much fixed on them as
though they were great as a sea, or huge as a whale. My second point
will be that they do not like this watching. They complain about it and
wish they could get rid of it. Therefore they argue with God against
it. Our third head is that their argument is a bad one. They think they
are very harshly treated, but the fact is that all they complain of is
in love. See, my messmates, the way I shall try to steer, but if the
heavenly wind blows me out of my course, don't be surprised if I tack
about and go, nobody knows where!

I. I have, first, to say that SOME MEN SEEM TO BE ESPECIALLY TRACKED
AND WATCHED BY GOD. We hear of persons being "shadowed" by the
police–and certain people feel as if they were shadowed by God–they
are mysteriously tracked by the great Spirit and they know and feel it.
Wherever they go, an eye is upon them and they cannot hide from it.
They are like prisoners under arrest–they can never go out of reach of
the law. They cannot get away from God, do what they may! There are men
who have been in this condition for years and they know what I mean.

All men are really surrounded by God. He is not far from everyone of
us. "In Him we live, move and have our being." "Where shall we flee
from Your Presence?" To the heights above, or to the depths beneath? To
oceans frozen into ice, or seas where the sun shines with burning heat?
In vain we rise or dive to escape from God. "You, God, see me," is as

true in the watches of the night as in the blaze of day. God is with us
and we are always beneath His eyes. Yet there are certain people to
whom this is more clear than it is to others.

Some are singularly aware of the Presence of God. Certain of us never
were without a sense of God. As children, we could not go to sleep till
we said, "Our Father which are in Heaven." As youths, we trembled if we
heard God's holy name blasphemed. As men, engaged in the cares of life,
we have seen the Lord's goodness, all along. We delight to see Him in
every flower that blooms and to hear His voice in every wind that
blows. It has made us happy to see God in His works. "The fool has said
in his heart, No God," but this folly we never cared for. We knew that
God was good even when we felt we had offended Him. He has taught us
from our youth and manifested Himself to us. Softly has the whisper
fallen on our ear, "God is near you. God is with you. God has an ear to
hear you. God has a heart to love you. God has a hand to help you." I
have known those who, even when they have sinned and gone against their
consciences, have never at any time quite lost a sense of the nearness
of God even though its only fruit was fear–a fear which has torment!

With others, God's watch is seen in a different way. They feel that
they are watched by God because their conscience never ceases to rebuke
them. The voice of conscience is not pitched to the same key in all
men, neither is it equally loud in all people. Conscience can be made
like a muzzled dog and then it cannot bite the thief of sin. Conscience
can grow like a man with a cold who has lost his voice. But it is not
so with all men, even after years of sin. Some have a naturally tender
conscience and, while living in sin, they are never easy. They make
merry all the day, for, "they count it one of the wisest things to
drive dull care away"–but dull care, like the chickens, comes home to
roost at night! The sailor in company is jolly, but if he has to keep a
lone watch beneath the silent stars, his heart begins to beat and his
conscience begins to call him to account for the follies of the day. He
starts in his sleep–he dreams over his past sin and the judgment to
come– for conscience will wake even when the rest of the man sleeps.
"You were wrong," says conscience, and his voice is very solemn.

Even great sin in certain men has not prevented Conscience speaking out
honestly to them. Again and again the inward monitor cries, "You were
wrong and you will suffer for it." We read that, "David's heart smote
him"–the heart deals us an ugly knock. When the blow is within us, it
tells. I am addressing some who, though they do not feel pleased about
it, yet must know that there is a something within that will not let
them sin cheaply. God has a bit in their mouths and a bridle upon their
jaws–and every now and then He gives a tug at it and pulls them right
up. They are not at home in sin! They have not yet got their sea legs
upon the ocean of vice. They sing the songs of the devil with a quake
and a shake which shows that the music does not suit them! Thus God has
set a watch upon them–they carry a detective in their bosoms.

In some this watching has gone farther, for they are under solemn
conviction of sin. They are convinced of sin, of righteousness and of
judgment to come. God's custom-house officer has boarded them and their
smuggling is found out. I remember when I was in that state, myself–a
criminal who dared not deny his guilt, but dreaded punishment. I would
not go back to that condition for a hundred worlds! There was no rest
for me then. I was only a youth, but boyish sports lost their relish
for me because I knew that I was a sinner and that God must punish sin.
I awoke in the morning and my first act for many a day was to read a
chapter of the Bible, or a page of some awakening book which kept my
conscience still awake. The Holy Spirit put me in irons and there I lay
both day and night! My bed was, at times, a very weary place for me,
because the eyes of God's anger seemed to be always watching me. I knew
I had offended God and I had not yet found out the way of
reconciliation by the blood of Jesus Christ.

Now, it may be that I speak to some here who have been to the ends of
the earth and they have said, "Well, when we get away where the Sabbath
bell is never heard, we shall get rid of these fears and take our swing
in sin." They sailed off and as soon as they reached port, they hurried
to a place of vicious amusement–where no one knew them. But the dog of
fear howled at their heels and merriment seemed mockery to them. On the
lone ocean the very stars pierced their hearts with their rays. At
length their messmates began to notice it and call them Old Sobersides.
"Jack, what ails you?" was the frequent question, and well it might be,
for Jack was very heavy and it is hard to be merry with a broken heart!
In some such fashion as this the man feels that God has set a watch
upon him and that he has become like a sea which never rests, or a
whale which roams the waste of water and knows no home. God watched him
and though he would gladly have run the blockade, he could not find an
hour in which his vessel was left alone.

Certain men are not only plagued by conscience and dogged by fear, but
the Providence of God seems to have gone out against them. Just when
the man had resolved to have a bout of drinking, he fell sick of a
fever and had to go to the hospital. He was going to a dance, but he
became so weak that he had not a leg to stand upon. He was forced to
toss to and fro on bed–to quite another tune from that which pleases
the ballroom! He had yellow fever and was long in pulling round. God
watched him and put the skid on him just as he meant to have a
breakneck run downhill! The man gets better and he says to himself, "I
will have a good time, now." But then he is out of berth and perhaps he
cannot get a ship for months–and he is brought down to poverty. "Dear
me!" he says, "everything goes against me. I am a marked man!" And so
he is. Just when he thinks that he is going to have a fair wind, a
tempest comes on and drives him out of his course, and he sees rocks
ahead. After a while he thinks, "Now I am all right. Jack is himself,
again, and piping times have come." A storm hurries up; the ship goes
down and he loses all but the clothes he has on his back. He is in a
wretched plight–a shipwrecked mariner far from home. God seems to
pursue him even as He did Jonah!

He carries with him misfortune for others and he might well cry, "Am I
a sea, or a whale, that You set a watch over me?" Nothing prospers. His
tacklings are loosed. He cannot well strengthen his mast; his ship
leaks; his sails are torn; his yards are snapped and he cannot
understand it. Other people seem to get on, though they are worse than
he is. Time was when he used to be lucky, too–but now he has parted
company with success and carries the black flag of distress. He is
driven to and fro by contrary winds. He makes no headway. He is a
miserable man and would wish that the whole thing would go to the
bottom, only he dreads a place which has no bottom, from which there is
no escape, if once you sink into it. The Providence of God runs hard
against him and thus he sees himself to be a watched man.

Yes, and God also watches over many in the way of admonition. Wherever
they go, holy warnings follow them. They cannot escape from those who
would be friends to their souls. They seem to be surrounded with a ring
of prayers and sermons and holy talks. The boy said, "If I could get
away from my mother, I should be free! I have been tied long enough to
her apron strings. I am old enough to do as I like. If I can get away
from my father's chidings and prayers, I shall have a fine time of it."
So the boy ran away and went to sea–and when he got on board, a good
old sailor tackled him–and talked to him about his soul! And then
another pleaded with him. The boy said to himself, "Why, I have got out
of the frying pan into the fire! I came here to be out of the way of
religion and here it is!"

I have known a sailor to go from port to port, and wherever he has
landed there has been some gracious man or woman waiting to lead him to
Christ. May it be often so! May the Bethel flag be found flying in all
waters, till every runaway says, "Why, I am watched wherever I go!" May
it be as it was with our dear friends, Fullerton and Smith, on board
the steamboat! Mr. Fullerton spoke to a rough man and asked him if he
was saved. And the man was angry, cross, vexed and went to the other
side of the vessel. There he complained to Mr. Smith, "That man over
there asked me if I was saved; he is a fool!" "Very likely," said
Smith, "but then, you see, he is a fool for Christ. I think it is
better to be a fool for Jesus than to be wise for the devil." He began
to plead with the sailor, when the man cried out, "There is a regular
gang of them! I cannot go anywhere but they are on to me."

It has been made hot for some of you by the British and Foreign
Sailors' Society which has placed missionaries in so many ports.
"There's a gang of them," and wherever you go, you stumble on an
earnest Christian man who will not let you alone. If I could stir up
Christian people here, I would make it hard for sinners, so that
wherever they went they would find a hand outstretched to stop them
from going to destruction! Oh, that each one might be met with tears
and entreaties, that thus each one might be snatched from the waves of
fire and landed on the rock of salvation! Some here present have had to
dodge a great deal to keep out of the way of Gospel shots. Their track
has been followed by mercy and they have been pursued by swift cruisers
of Grace. They have been like fish taken in a net–surrounded on all
sides– and neither able to pass through the meshes, nor to break the
net, nor to leap out of it! Oh, that the net of Christ's love may so
entangle you all, that you may be His forever!

That is our first point–there are some men who seem especially watched
of God.

II. Secondly, we notice that THEY ARE VERY APT TO DISLIKE THIS
WATCHING. Job is not pleased with it.

He asks, "Am I a sea, or a whale, that You set a watch over me?" These
people, to whom God pays such attention, are foolish enough to murmur
that they are so hedged in and they are vexed to be made to feel that
God has His eyes upon them.

Do you know what they would like? They want liberty to sin! They would
like to be let loose and to be allowed to do just as their wild wills
would suggest to them. They would cast off every restraint and have
their fling of what the world calls "pleasure." They would climb from
sin to sin, hand over hand. They would like to empty all the cups on
the devil's sideboard and be as merry as the worst of men when they are
taking it free and easy. That is why they would send their consciences
to sleep, drown their fears and escape from chastening Providences and
warning admonitions. They would like to live where no Christian would
ever worry them again with wearisome exhortation! They demand
liberty–liberty to put their hands into the fire! Liberty to ruin
themselves! Liberty to leap into Hell before their time! Liberty! What
destruction has been worked in your name! Free thinking! Free living!
Free loving and all that! What misuse of terms! What a libel upon the
name of freedom, to use the word, "free," in connection with the
slavery of sin! Yet, I am speaking to some who say, "That is just what
I want! I want to cut myself clear of all this hamper which blocks me
up from having my own way." Ah me! This is the cry of a man who is bent
on soul-suicide!

They also wish that they could be as hard of heart as many others are.
Some men can drink any quantity and yet do not seem as if they were
greatly affected by it. And many a young sailor has wished that he
could pour down his grog without a wink, after the style of the old
toper. He meets with a foul-mouthed being who can swear till all is
blue, while he himself has only dropped an oath or two, and then felt
wretched. The young man begins to wish that he was as tough as old
Jack, and as much a daredevil as he. The hardened profligate is
foolishly envied and looked upon as a man of "pluck." But is it true
bravery to ruin one's soul? Is it manly to be wicked? Is it a great
gain to have a seared conscience? We don't envy the blind because they
cannot see danger, nor the deaf because they cannot hear an alarm–why
envy the hardened old sinner because he has become spiritually blind
and deaf?

There are monsters, both on land and on sea, whose very breath is
pestilent and whose talk is enough to choke up a town with vice. And
yet certain young men, whom God will not allow to descend into such
rottenness, are almost angry that they are restrained! A tender
conscience is a great possession, but these simple ones know not its
value. They wish that they could have a heart as hard as the nether
millstone. Ah, poor souls! You know not what you wish, for you have no
idea how deep is the curse that lies in a callous conscience! When God
gave Pharaoh up to hardness of heart, it was a tremendous punishment
for his pride and cruelty and, short of Hell, there is no judgment that
God can inflict like letting a man have his own way! "Let him alone,"
says God, "he is joined to idols." And if the Lord says that, there is
only one other word more dreadful–and that is the final
sentence–"Depart from Me, you cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared
for the devil and his angels." O you beginners in vice who cannot yet
stifle the cries of your suffering consciences, I pray that you may see
your folly and no longer do violence to your own mercy!

Men do not like this being surrounded by God–this wearing the bit and
kicking strap–because they would drop God from their thoughts. If
tomorrow we could hear, by telegram from Heaven, that God was dead,
what crowds would buy the newspaper! It would be the greatest relief in
the world to many a godless wretch if he could feel sure that there was
no God! To some of us this news would be death–we would have lost our
Father, our Comforter, our Savior, our All! Alas, many wish that there
were no God, and if they cannot persuade themselves that there is
none–and it is very hard for a sailor to do that–yet they try to
forget Him. If God is out of mind, He is as good as out of the world to
the careless sinner.

When God comes with inward fears and awakens conscience–and sends
cross Providences, so that the man feels pulled up and made to
pause–then he knows that there is a God, for he feels a Power which
works against his sin from which he cannot get away. He longs to be
clear of this secret force, but it wraps him about on every side. He
does not read his Bible and yet Scripture rises in his memory! It is
long since he bent his knee in prayer–he has almost forgotten what his
mother said to him when she lay dying–but still he feels that there is
a God and, somehow, that belief sounds a trumpet blast through his
soul, summoning him to his last account. Come to judgment! Come to
judgment! Come to judgment! The call rings in his ears and he cannot
get away from the terrible sound! Then it is that he cries "Why am I
thus? Am I a sea, or a whale, that You set a watch over me?"

Once more, there are some who do not like to be shadowed in this way
because they want to have their will with others. Shall I speak a sharp
word, like a two-edged sword? There are men–and seamen to be found
among them–who are not satisfied with being ruined, themselves, but
they thirst to ruin others! They lay traps for precious souls and they
are vexed that their victims should escape them. They are angry because
certain poor women are not altogether in their power.

Woe unto the men who lead women astray! I have heard of sailors who, in
every port they enter, try to ruin others. I charge you to remember
that you will have to face these ruined ones at the Day of Judgement!
You sailed away and they never knew where you went, but the Lord knew.
It may be, when you lie in Hell, eyes will find you out and a voice
will cry aloud, "Are you here? You are the man that led me to
Perdition!"

You will have to keep everlasting company with those whom you dragged
down to Hell–and these will, forever, curse you to your face. I say
there are men who would like to have full license to commit wantonness
and they are grieved that they are hindered in their carnival of sin!
May God grant that you may be stopped altogether and, instead of
lusting to pollute others, may you have a desire to save them! May God
grant that the channel of evil may be blocked for you and may you be
piloted into the waters of repentance and faith!

This is why some kick against God. I fear these people will be much
vexed with me for speaking so plainly, but you must not think that it
will alarm me should you be angry. I am rather glad when fellows get
angry with my preaching. "Oh," I say to myself, "those fish feel the
hook in their jaws and so they struggle to escape." Of course a fish
does not like the hook which lays hold of him! But these angry hearers
will come again. You people with whom the sermon goes in at one ear and
out at the other, you get no good, whatever–but a man who fires up
with wrath and says, "How dare that fellow speak thus to me?" is sure
to listen again–and it is very likely that God will bless him. But
whether it offends you or pleases you–I repeat my warning–I charge
you, do not drag others down to Hell with you! If you must go there
yourselves, seek not to destroy those around you! Do not teach boys to
drink and to swear. Neither tempt frail women to commit uncleanness
with you. God help you to shake off all vice, for I know that vile
habits are often the reason why men kick against the restraint of God's
loving hand.

III. And now I have got to the very heart of my text. The third part is
this–that THIS ARGUMENT AGAINST THE LORD'S DEALINGS IS A VERY BAD ONE.
Job says, "Am I a sea, or whale, that You set a watch over me?" Listen!
To argue from our insignificance is poor pleading, for the little
things are just those against which there is most need to watch! If you
were a sea, or a whale, God might leave you alone, but as you are a
feeble and sinful creature who can do more hurt than a sea, or a whale,
you need constant watching! In life, men fall by very little things.
One does not need to watch against his dog one half as much as against
a horsefly, or a mosquito, for these will sting you when you least
expect it. The little things need most watching, therefore it is poor
reasoning when we complain that God watches us as if we were a sea, or
a whale.

After all, there is not a man here who is not much like a sea, or a sea
monster in this respect, that he needs a watch to be set over him. A
man's heart is as changeable and as deceitful as the sea. Today it is
calm as a sea of glass, unruffled by a breath of air. Oh, trust not
yourself upon it, for before tomorrow's sun is up, your nature may be
rolling in tremendous billows of passion! You cannot trust the sea, but
it is more worthy of confidence than your heart! Here you are, tonight,
and oh, how good you look as you sit and listen and then stand up and
sing! Ah, my men! I should not like to hear you if you take to
blaspheming your Maker, as many do! When you are down in the forecastle
with a little band of praying men, how very good you feel! Let us see
you when you are on shore and there is plenty of grog about. It is easy
to have a calm sea when there is no wind, but how different is the
ocean when a gale is blowing! We are all very well when far away from
temptation, but how are we when the devil's servants are around us?
Then, I fear, that too often good resolutions prove to be–

"False as the smooth, deceitful sea, And empty as the whistling wind."
It may be that I speak to one who has undergone a dreadful change. Once
you led others in the way of righteousness, but now you draw them into
evil. Once you sailed under the Bethel flag, but now the old Pirate of
the infernal lake is your captain. You have gone back to your old ways
and have again become the slave of the world, the flesh and the devil.
Your religious profession had no foundation. Ah me, you need not say,
"Am I a sea, or a whale?" for seas and sea monsters are more to be
trusted than you are! The sea is immeasurable and, as for you, your
sinfulness is unsearchable. Your capacity is almost without
measure–your mind reaches far and touches all things. Man's mind can
rise in rebellion against the God of the whole earth, till, like the
raging waves of the sea, it threatens to put out the lights of Heaven!
When man is in a rebellious state he will rage in his thoughts as
though he would wash away the shores of Heaven and beat like the surf
upon the iron rocks of Hell. A man is an awful mystery of iniquity when
left to himself. You cannot

fathom his pride, nor measure his daring. Deep down in his mind there
are innumerable creeping things, both small and great beasts–for all
manner of evils and sins multiply in the heart like fishes in the sea!
Do not ask, "Am I a sea, or a sea-monster, that You set a watch over
me?" for the Lord may answer, "You are more capacious for evil than a
sea and more wild than a sea monster."

I shall now go further and show that, by reason of our evil nature, we
have become like the sea. This is true in several ways, for, first, the
sea is restless and so is our nature. "The wicked are like the troubled
sea, when it cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt." You need
not go far to find hearts always agitated, always seeking rest and
finding none. They know not Christ and, until they do know Him, they
cannot rest. They are always seeking a something–they know not what.
They run first in one direction and then in another, but they never
follow the right thing. When they are thoughtful, no good comes of
their thoughts. Their waters cast up–what? Pearls and corals?
No–"mire and dirt." I do not need to explain those words. If any of
you have to keep company with these restless beings, you know how
foul-mouthed they can be. They cast up worse things than mire and dirt
when they are stirred up. Oh, say not, "Am I a sea, or a whale?" Think
of yourself as being as restless as a whale when the harpoon is in
him–as restless as the sea when a storm is moving its lowest depths.

Let us say, next, that the sea can be furious and terrible–and so can
ungodly men. When a man is in a fury, what a wild beast he can be! A
landsman looks on the sea when it has put on its best behavior and he
says, "I should not mind going on a voyage. It must be splendid to
steam over such a sea! I feel I shall make a splendid sailor." Let him
look at that same ocean, by-and-by. Where is the sea of glass, now?
Where are the gentle waves which seemed afraid to ripple too far upon
the sand? The sea roars and rages and raves. The Atlantic in a storm is
terrible, but have you ever seen a tempest in a man's nature? It is an
awful sight and one which causes gracious eyes to weep! What a
miserable object is a man with the drink in him! He was as decent a
fellow as one could talk with, but now that the drink has mastered him,
the devil has come on board and you will do well to give him a wide
berth. The same is true of passion. Concerning angry men our advice
would be, "Put not to sea in a storm, neither argue with a man in a
passion." You do not know what he will do, and he does not know,
himself! Such a man will be grieved enough when he sobers down, but
meanwhile, while the storm is on, he cares for nothing. His eyes flash
lightning, his face is black as tempest, his mouth foams and his tongue
rages. In his case, "The sea roars and the fullness thereof." When you
feel the Lord's restraint, you need not ask, "Am I a sea, or a whale?"
for your own heart may answer, "You can be more furious than the sea
itself."

Think, again, how unsatisfied is the sea. It draws down and swallows up
stretches of land and thousands of tons of cliff, but it is not filled
up. "All the rivers run into the sea, yet the sea is not full." Huge
Spanish galleons went to the bottom, with thousands of gold and silver
pieces on board–but the sea was never the richer. When, on some
dreadful night, our coasts are strewn with wrecks and hundreds of lives
are lost, the devouring deep is never the more satisfied. The sea is a
hungry monster which could swallow a navy and then open its mouth for
more! Are not many men made of the same craving sort? If you gave them
half a world, they would cry for the other half, and if they had the
whole round globe, they would weep for the stars! Man's mind never
rests in sweet content till God, Himself, satisfies it with Himself. O
man, without true religion it is your fate to go hungry and thirsty
forever, or, like the sea, yeasting and foaming after you know not
what!

Human nature is like the sea for mischief. How destructive is the ocean
and how unfeeling! It makes widows and orphans by the thousands–and
then smiles as if it had done nothing! Terrible havoc it can work when
once its power is let loose! Do not talk of the destructiveness of the
sea–let the reckless sinner think of the destructiveness of his own
life! You that are living in sin and vice, what wrecks you have caused!
How many who set out on the voyage of life and bade fair to make a
splendid passage, have gone upon the rocks through you! A foul word, a
loose song, a filthy act and a frivolous craft has become a wreck!
Conscience can fill in the details. Ah me, one cannot say to God, "Am I
a sea, or a sea monster?" or He might well reply, "No shark has
devoured so many as the drunkard in his cups, the swearer in his
presumption and the unclean in his lust!" Ah me, I could weep to think
how much of mischief any one of you who are unconverted may yet do! The
Lord deliver you from being left derelict, to cause wreck to others!

We must not forget that we are less obedient to God than the sea is.
Nothing keeps back the sea from many a shore but a belt of sand–and
though it rages in storm and tempest, the sea goes back in due time and
leaves the sand for children to play upon. It knows its bounds and
keeps them. When the time comes for the tide to rise, the obedient
waters march

upon the shore in unbroken ranks and fill up every creek. They do not
linger behind their time. When the moment comes to stay where they are,
they rest at flood. Then comes the instant to begin the ebb and, no
matter how boisterous the waves may be, they fall back at God's
bidding. What, after all, is more orderly than the great sea? Would to
God we were like it in this! How readily this great creature yields! A
little wind springs up and its waves answer at once to the breath of
Heaven. When the sun crosses the line, the equinoctial gales know their
season, while at all times the great currents cease not the flow which
God has appointed them.

The sea is obedient to the Lord and so was that great fish of which we
read just now–"The Lord spoke unto the fish, and it vomited out Jonah
upon the dry land." As for us, we refuse to obey! And when left to
ourselves, what law can restrain us? Is there anything in Heaven or
earth which a proud sinner will not venture to attempt? God blocks up
the road to Hell with hedge, ditch and chain–but we break them all! He
digs a trench across our way and we leap over it. He piles a mountain
in the road and as if our feet were like hinds' feet, we leap upon the
high places of presumption! A man will go against wind and tide in his
determination to be lost! O Sea! O Sea! You are but a child with your
father compared to the wicked and rebellious heart of man! It is a bad
argument, then. We need to be looked after. We need to be watched. We
need to be kept in check even more than a sea or a whale! We need the
restraining Providence and constraining Grace of God to keep us from
deadly sin.

IV. Last of all, I would remark that ALL THEY COMPLAINED OF WAS SENT IN
LOVE. They said, "Am I a sea, or a whale, that You set a watch over
me?" but if they had known the truth, they would have blessed God with
all their hearts for having watched over them as He has done.

First, God's restraint of some of us has kept us from self-ruin. If the
Lord had not held us in, we might have been in prison! We might have
been in the grave! We might have been in Hell! Who knows what would
have become of us? An old Scotchman said to Mr. Rowland Hill what, I am
quite sure, would have been as true of me. He looked into Mr. Hill's
face so keenly and so often that at last good Rowland asked him, "Why
are you looking at my face so much?" "I was thinking," said the
Scotchman, "that if you had not been converted by the Grace of God, you
would have been a terrible sinner." And, surely, this would have been
my case. Nothing half-and-half would have contented me. I would have
gone to the end of my tether.

Is not the same true of some of you? How many times has the Lord laid
His own hand on us to stay us from a fatal step! If we were checked in
our youth and brought, then and there, to Jesus, it was a gracious deed
on God's part. If we have been hindered during a sinful manhood and
have, at length, been made to bow before the will of the Lord, this,
also, is great Grace. Left to ourselves, we would have chosen our own
destruction! Do you not think that God's taking you apart and giving
you a tender conscience–and admonishing you so often–proves His great
love to you! Surely someone has prayed for you! There is a mother here
tonight. I hope she will not mind my telling you what she did last
Tuesday when I was sitting in my vestry. She brought me a little brown
paper parcel with £50 in it and she gave it for the British and Foreign
Sailors' Society. She has a son whom she has not heard of for years. He
went to sea and she cannot find him, or get any tidings of his
whereabouts. But she hopes that a missionary of this Society may meet
him in some strange place and bring him to the Savior.

She prays that it may be so and, therefore, she brings her
self-sacrificing offering–a great sum, I am sure, for her– that she
may help to support the good Society which, she hopes, may be a
blessing to her boy. There are other sailors to whom God's love is seen
in their being followed up by a mother's pleading. Ah, Friend, the Lord
would not have checked you so if He had not intended to bless you! That
broken leg of yours is to keep you from running too far into sin. That
yellow fever was sent to cool the fever of your sin. Your missing that
ship caused you to miss shipwreck and death. These mishaps were all
tokens of love to you. The Lord would not let you perish! He resolves
to save you. You are one of His chosen. Christ bought you with His
blood and He means to have you for His own. If you will not come to Him
with a gentle breeze, He will fetch you by a storm! Yield to the
pressure of His love. If you will be as the horse and the mule which
have no understanding, He will break you in and manage you with bit and
bridle–but it would be far better if you would be ruled by love.

I think I see tokens of electing love upon you in those very things
which you have kicked against. The Lord is working to bring you to
Himself, and to Himself you must come. The prodigal son was driven home
by stress of weather. If his father had had the doing of it, he could
not have worked the matter better! His hungry belly and his pig-feeding
fetched

him home. The unkindness of the citizens of the far country helped to
hurry him back to his father. Hardship, need and pain are meant to
bring you back–and God has used them to that end! And the day will
come when you will say, "I bless God for the rough wave which washed me
on shore. I bless God for the stormy Providence which drowned my
comfort, but saved my soul."

Once more and I have done. God will not always deal roughly with you.
Perhaps tonight He will say His last sharp word. Will you yield to
softer means? They say that oil poured on troubled waters will make
them smooth–God the Holy Spirit can send to your troubled soul a
lifelong calm! The winds and waves on the Galilean sea all went to
sleep in an instant. How? Why, when Jesus came walking on the water, He
said to the warring elements, "Be still." The waves crouched like
whipped dogs at His feet, though they had, just before, roared like
lions! He said to the winds, "Hush!" and they breathed as softly as the
lips of a babe! Jesus is here at this hour. He that died on Calvary
looks down on us– believe on Him! He lifts His pierced hands and
cries, "Look unto Me, and be you saved!" Will you not look to Him? Oh,
that His Grace may lead you at once to say, "He is All in All to me!"

Here is a soul-saving text for you–"God so loved the world, that He
gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not
perish, but have everlasting life." Accept the Savior and though you
are as a sea, or as a whale, you shall no longer complain of the Lord's
watching you, but you shall rejoice in perfect liberty! He is free who
loves to serve his God! He makes it his delight that he is watched of
the Lord. The Lord bless sailors! May we all meet in the Fair Havens!
May the flag of your Society bless every sea because God blesses its
missionaries! I wish for it the utmost prosperity and I judge it to be
worthy of the most generous aid of all Christians. In all respects it
is exactly to my mind. The Lord send prosperity to it! Amen.

PORTION OFSCRIPTURE READ BEFORE SERMON–Jonah 2.