Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 1244
“Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.” Job 13:15.
THIS is one of the supreme sayings of Scripture. It rises, like an alpine summit, clear above all ordinary heights of speech. It pierces the clouds and glistens in the Light of God. If I were required to quote a selection of the most sublime utterances of the human mind, I should mention this among the first—“Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.” I think I might almost say to the man who thus spoke, what our Lord said to Simon Peter when he had declared him to be the Son of the Highest—“Flesh and blood has not revealed this unto you.” Such tenacious holding, such immovable confidence, such unstaggering reliance are not products of mere nature, but rare flowers of rich Divine Grace!
The text contains a precious jewel of Grace, fitly set in the purest gold of choice speech. Happy is the man upon whose arm it can be worn as an ensign in the day of battle. It is well worthy of observation that in these words Job answered both the accusations of Satan and the charges of his friends. Though I do not know that Job was aware that the devil had said, “Does Job fear God for nothing? Have You not set a hedge about him and all that he has?” yet he answered that base suggestion in the ablest possible manner, for he did, in effect, say, “Though God should pull down my hedge and lay me bare as the wilderness, itself, yet will I cling to Him in firmest faith.”
The arch-fiend had also dared to say that Job had held out under his first trials because they were not sufficiently personal. “Skin for skin, yes, all that a man has will he give for his life. But put forth Your hand, now, and touch his bones and his flesh, and he will curse You to Your face.” In the brave words before us, Job most effectually silences that slander by, in effect, saying, “Though my trial is no longer the slaying of my children, but of myself, yet will I trust in Him.” He thus, in one sentence, replies to the two slanders of Satan and, thus, unconsciously, does Truth overthrow her enemies, defeating the secret malice of falsehood by the simplicity of sincerity.
Job’s friends also had insinuated that he was a hypocrite. They inquired of him, “Who ever perished, being innocent? Or where were the righteous cut off?” They thought themselves quite safe in inferring that Job must have been a deceiver, or he would not have been so specially punished. To this accusation Job’s grand declaration of his unstaggering faith was the best answer possible, for none but a sincere soul could thus speak. Will a hypocrite trust in God when He slays him? Will a deceiver cling to God when He is smiting him? Assuredly not! Thus were the three miserable comforters answered if they had been wise enough to see it.
Our text exhibits a child of God under the most severe pressure and shows us the difference between him and a man of the world. A man of the world under the same conditions as Job would have been driven to despair and, in that desperation, would have become morosely sullen, or defiantly rebellious! Here you see what, in a child of God, takes the place of desperation. When others despair, he trusts in God. When he has nowhere else to look, he turns to his heavenly Father. And when, for a time, even in looking to God, he does not meet with conscious comfort, he waits in the patience of hope, calmly expecting aid and resolving that even if it does not come, he will cling to God with all the energy of his soul!
Here, all the man’s courage comes to the front, not, as in the case of the ungodly, obstinately to rebel, but bravely to confide. The child of God is courageous, for he knows how to trust. His heart says, “My Lord, it is bad with me, now, and it is growing worse, but should the worst come to the worst, still will I cling to You and never let You go.” In what better way can the Believer reveal his loyalty to his Lord? He evidently follows his Master, not in fair weather only, but in the worst and roughest days. He loves his Lord, not only when He smiles upon him, but when He frowns.
His love is not purchased by the liberality of his Lord’s golden hands, for it is not destroyed by the smiting of His heavy rod. Though my Lord puts on His sternest looks. Though from fierce looks He should go to cutting words. And though from terrible words He should proceed to cruel blows which seem to beat the very life out of my soul, yes, though
He take down the sword and threaten to execute me, yet is my heart steadfastly set upon one resolve, namely, to bear witness that He is infinitely good and just! I have not a word to say against Him, nor a thought to think against Him! Much less would I wander from Him! And, though He slay me, I would trust in Him!
What is my text but an Old Testament version of the New Testament, “Quis separabit?”—Who shall separate? Job does but anticipate Paul’s question, “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him that loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”