Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 764
Delivered on Lord’s-day Morning, AUGUST 4, 1867, by, the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington.
“All the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my change comes.”- Job 14:14.
JOB was well near driven to desperation by the fearful torment of his bodily pains, by the exasperating remarks of his friends, and the cutting suggestion of his wife. It is no wonder if he became somewhat impatient. Never were words of complaint more excusable than in the sad case of Job when he cried, “O that you would hide me in the grave!” Everything that could make life bearable had been taken from him and every evil which could make death desirable came upon him.
Yet, after Job had uttered those exclamations, he seems to have been half ashamed of his weakness, and girding up his loins he argues with himself, reasoning his soul into a cooler, calmer frame. Job looks his life in the face—he perceives that his warfare is severe, but he remembers it is but once—and that when once over and the victory won, there will be no more fighting! Therefore he encourages himself to put up with his present sorrows and even with future evils, be they what they may, and registers this solemn resolution—far more glorious than the resolve of Alexander to conquer the world—to conquer himself and to abide with patience, the will of God.
He fixed it steadfastly in his heart that all his appointed days, until a change should come, he would endure the Divine decree with constancy of resignation. None among us can afford to cast a stone at the Patriarch for sighing and complaining, for we should not act one half so well ourselves. We are too much at times like Jonah—we turn cowards and would gladly flee from our work when it becomes arduous or yields us no honor. If we do not seek a ship to convey us to Tarshish, we sigh for a seraph to bear us to Heaven.
This huge Nineveh has made most of us quail in times of depression. I fear that frequently we act like lineal descendants of those children of Ephraim who, being armed and carrying bows, turned back in the day of battle. We shrink as a bone out of joint which slips aside under pressure. We are not only like Jacob, who halted upon one thigh, but we limp upon both legs at times! We are often disinclined for conflict and pine for rest, crying, “When will the day be over? When shall we be perfectly at ease?”
It is against such a spirit as this that we must struggle. And to help us in the struggle, it seemed to me to be good to consider the text now before us. To that end may God bless it, that we may be “steadfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord.” “All the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my change comes.”
We shall call your attention this morning, first, to the aspect of life which Job gives us. Secondly, to his estimate of our work. And thirdly, to his view of the future.
I. First, let us observe THE ASPECT UNDER WHICH JOB REGARDED THIS MORTAL LIFE. He calls it an “appointed time,” or, as the Hebrew has it, “a warfare.” Observe that Job styles our life a time. Blessed be God that this present state is not an eternity! Though its conflicts may seem long they must have an end. We are in the finite state, at present, in which all griefs have their closes and conclusions. Long as the night may last it must yield, in due season, to the light of the morning. The winter may drag its weary length along but the spring is hard upon its heels.
The tide may ebb out till nothing remains but leagues of mud, and we lament that all the bright blue deep will vanish, but it is not so—the tide must flow again for God has so decreed. Our whole life is brief, indeed. Compared with eternity, a mere span—a hand’s-breadth. From the summits of eternity, how, like a flying moment, will this transient life appear! The pains of this mortal life will seem to be a mere pin’s prick to us when we get into the joys never ending and overflowing! And the toils of this life will be as child’s play when we reach the everlasting rest.
Let us then, my Brothers and Sisters, judge immortal judgment. Lets us not weigh our troubles in the ill-adjusted scales of this poor human life, but let us use the shekel of eternity. We are born for eternity, and although it is true we have to struggle through this one brief hour of toil and conflict, an hour with our God in Glory will make up for it all.
“I reckon,” said that master of heavenly arithmetic, the Apostle Paul, who was never wrong in his reckoning, “that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.”
The longest and most sorrowful life is but a “time.” Whisper that simple Truth of God into the ear of the languishing sufferer! Tell this glad Truth to the son of sorrow, poor and despised! Tell it to every daughter of grief—life is but a time—it is not eternity! O Mourner, contrast your present sorrows with the griefs of lost spirits to whom there is no time—who are cast away forever—who cannot expect a termination to their bitter griefs, but who see this word written in letters of fire before their weeping eyes, “Forever! Forever! FOREVER! FOREVER!”