


Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind, and said – Although all Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is to be very reverently handled as his word, yet I cannot but feel a more profound awe and reverence in approaching this place, and more hesitation and fear in attempting to consider the words of this wonderful answer. The Lord does not speak here by the mouth of a man like ourselves, whose terror shall not make us afraid, but with his own voice of terrible majesty and with an exhibition of his mighty power.
The coming of the Lord is often represented in the Scriptures as in the whirlwind: "The Lord cometh with fire, and his chariots like a whirlwind (Isaiah 66:15; Jeremiah 4:13; 23:19)." "The Lord hath his way in the whirlwind (Nehemiah 1:3)." "The Lord shall go with the whirlwinds of the south (Zechariah 9:14)." And with what wonderful power is the effect of his approach to man thus represented! As the whirlwind tears and sweeps away whatever is unsubstantial about us, scattering our earthly treasures and leaving desolation in its track, so the approach of the Lord to man sweeps away his earthly riches, honors and supports, and leaves him naked and bare and trembling in the presence of infinite majesty and holiness. Before the face of the Lord nothing of an earthly nature can endure. Even the everlasting mountains were scattered and the perpetual hills did bow as he stood and measured the earth, and beheld and drove asunder the nations, who are chased is a rolling thing before the whirlwind (Hebrews 3:6; Isaiah 17:13).
Only the righteous can endure his coming and stand when he appeareth, for with them is the word of our God, which alone shall stand for ever. To the wicked his coming is destruction (II Thessalonians 1:9; 2:8); and their destruction cometh as a whirlwind (Proverbs 1:27). As the whirlwind passeth, so is the wicked no more (Proverbs 10:25). They are driven away as the chaff that is driven with the whirlwind out of the floor (Hosea 13:3). Such expressions are frequent in the prophets, and the day of the Lord's coming is called, "the day of the whirlwind (Zechariah 7:14)."
When the Lord communicates with his people, and causes his voice to be heard by them, all their own wisdom and knowledge and all their earthly purposes and hopes are scattered as with a whirlwind, and they stand bereft and silent to hear what he will speak. The Psalmist describes his voice as "powerful" and "full of majesty." "The voice of the Lord breaketh the cedars; yea, the Lord breaketh the cedars of Lebanon." "The voice of the Lord divideth the flames of fire." "The voice of the Lord shaketh the wilderness." "The voice of the Lord maketh the hinds to calve and discovereth the forests; and in his temple doth every one speak of his glory (Psalm 29)." The word of the Lord came to Isaiah as "the burden of the desert of the sea," came "as whirlwinds of the south pass through (Isaiah 21:1)." And so it still comes to all his servants, breaking down and sweeping their opposition and fears, and leaving them with nothing to speak but the word that has thus come to them. When he would speak to Elijah in the Mount of Horeb, a strong wind, an earthquake and a fire made way for the still small voice of his word; and in a whirlwind he came to take the prophet from earth to heaven. In like manner, with an awful display of terrible majesty is he described as descending to deliver the Son of God from the sorrows of death and hell–from the grasp of his strong enemy; and then were the foundations of the world discovered, as they are to all his children when he comes to them (Psalm 18:4-17).
Let us now turn to Job; and may the Lord enable us to understand by our own experience something of the divine power that touched his soul as the answer of the Lord out of the whirlwind reached him! There may have been a sound to the natural ear, but we do not think that it was with the natural ear that the voice of the Lord was heard. We cannot even imagine Job still sitting in the ashes literally, surrounded by his friends, while the communications of the Lord came to them all with an audible sound and awed them into silence. How long his trial has lasted we are not told, nor is it necessary to the spiritual instruction for which the record is given that we should know whether hours or years, nor whether he remained in the same place. The trial was spiritual, and throughout the history we are regarding a soul, rather than worldly circumstances – a soul heavily burdened and cast down with sorrow, yet not destroyed; bearing itself with a firmness it cannot itself understand, in defense of the truth, against all of the opposition of the world and the devil; a soul bowed and humbled before the great Jehovah, yet sending up from its heavy sorrow questioning groans and complaints to the very throne of the God it adores – complaints that are prompted by the fleshly mind, which is to be yet more completely humbled and silenced. We have seen that soul listening in humble silence to the authoritative words of Elihu; and now it is that soul alone that we can think of as listening to the answer of the Lord. Where his friends may be our mind does not inquire. There is the suffering soul that questioned not but that all his affliction was from the hand of a just and infinite God, yet questioned why one so great and mighty should ordain affliction and send pain upon the creature of his power. We see that soul bowed in silent awe and reverence while the searching voice of the Infmite sounds through all the mysterious chambers and depths of its intelligence and feeling. While that speech of the Omnipotent continues the complaints are hushed, the pain and sorrow are forgotten, swallowed up, swept away. When heavenly wisdom breaks into and fills the soul it leaves no place for the recognition of pain. When the thoughts are lifted to the Infmite they cannot contemplate trouble.
Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge? Gird up now thy loins like a man: for I will demand of thee, and answer thou me.
I desire to express plainly and fully as I may be able how I think may be seen here a representation of what is spiritually experienced by the child of God when the Lord comes with power into his soul. How few and far apart are the moments when we feel a full and absorbing sense of the presence of Almighty God, and are able to speak with absolute present experience of his power and of his everlasting, enrapturing love. We may hear the words of truth proclaimed day by day, and believe them and rejoice in them and contend earnestly for them and rest upon them all our hope, and yet all the time be waiting for an experience of their power. When that comes, it is the answer of the Lord directly to our souls, in which, as with a whirlwind, he sweeps away all earthly hindrances and objects that intervene, and brings us into full spiritual communion with himself. Whatever we speak concerning him at another time is, in a certain sense, darkening counsel by words without knowledge. The feeblest saint, triumphant in the hour of death, speaks with more certain and absolute knowledge, so far as himself is concerned, than the mightiest prophet. The prophet speaks with absolute certainty and authority by inspiration of God, yet may himself be at the same time searching and inquiring diligently concerning the power of what he speaks as God gives him utterance (I Peter 1:11), and may be longing to feel the full power and enjoyment of it. Every preacher of the gospel, as well as all who speak upon the glorious subject, will understand what is intimated here. And as it is with the preacher, that he is often obliged to speak and knows that he is speaking the blessed and comforting truth of God while yet his own soul is barren of enjoyment, longing in vain to feel its power, so it is with the hearer; of all the array of spiritual truth which we receive and retain in the memory, but one word may be applied with power so as to lift us up, and so that we can say in our souls to God, Now mine eye seeth thee. This word the Lord gives us. It is his answer out of the whirlwind.
When we were first shown that we were sinners, it was by a revelation of God to our soul. Men had told us before, and we had probably acknowledged with the lips and natural understanding, that we were sinners; but now, for the first time, we felt it. How the thoughts arrayed themselves through the mind in which the infinity and holiness of God were presented, perhaps none could remember to describe; but they are all, no doubt, embraced in these questions of the Lord. When a peaceable hope was given and our despairing souls quieted, through what train and connection of thoughts it came no one can fully tell, but it was by a more full revelation of the Infinite in his glorious grace and mercy. We had heard of the Saviour and had heard the truth concerning salvation, and perhaps gave it a natural assent, even believed it, but now we felt it. We saw the Saviour, but it was in the soul we saw him and with the spiritual intelligence, and the thoughts were in some way involved, though how we cannot tell. From that time we may go on long hearing the Word and gladly receiving it, before we have another full experience of its power. And often the waiting and hoping Christian has to look back for assurance to the time when he felt the power of God at the first. To the last of our pilgrimage we are as dependent upon him for an experience of his power and love as at the first.
We have never been able by voluntarily setting our minds to work to reach upward and outward far enough to see and feel the power of unfathomable mystery to know that we cannot know, to feel what it is to be finite. But sometimes our thoughts seem to be carried away by some wonderful, unknown power to the very verge of the infinite in space and time, not enabling us to see its extent, but that we may see that it is infinite and beyond the possible reach of thought.
While we are walking among hills and through woods, we may know as well as at another time that the earth is very wide and that great extent is wonderful. But when we emerge from the confined place, and the eye all at once is sweeping free over the broad expanse of earth or ocean, and barred only in its onward course by the limit of its own strength, then we feel what in the narrow dell our imagination could not bring to us. So the mind at times emerges from the narrow wilderness paths and confined places of ordinary thought, and sees the sweeping distances of immeasurable extent stretching away before it, and springs with all its sense of power onward to reach the limit of space or time, but to return baffled from the illimitable.
It is not when we are looking at the distant stars and estimating their wonderful distances that this sense of the infinite is experienced. The eyes are closed, perhaps, as in thought we go on and on, determined not to flag, until finally we ask, with a mental gasp as for breath, Where is the end? and what is beyond that? and is there no bound? And with one more great and desperate effort to reach farther, and grasp some bounding line, and gather into our view the limit of the circle that nowhere exists, we shrink back weary and affrighted and humble.
A great rock lies where we look upon it daily. We know it is of great weight. But some morning, when an exultant sense of energy pervades our frame, we bear ourselves against it, gathering against it all our power, and straining each feeling of strength to the utmost, yet it feels not the slightest jar. Then we simply know that there is in our body no power that can measure its weight. So when the mind feels strong, with all its mysterious energies gathered and at its command, then, if it be directed till it reach the great mysteries, and suffered to force itself with all its concentrated power against them, it will simply feel what the mystery of the infinite is, and fall humbled before God.
It is thus that Job is made to feel and see the sovereign and infinite power and wisdom of God. He is prepared with all his own power, commanded to gird up his loins like a man, bring into exercise all his strength, and then answer. It is by questions that we cannot answer that the greatness of God is made known to us. Not questions addressed to the outward ear or natural intelligence, but inquiries the power of which we are prepared by Him who sends them into our soul to feel, and which rush through our very being, filling us with a burning sense of the infinite interest they bear, and urging a strong and pervading desire to break through by the door of their answer into the mysterious realms of knowledge that lie beyond. With every such unanswerable question another intimation of the greatness of God is given to us.
Job has been reasoning concerning the necessity of his own affliction, which he knows to be according to God's counsel, and has murmured at it. Let the lover of the truth remember the questionings that have arisen in his own mind concerning God's ways in providence, which perhaps he has feared to acknowledge even to himself. Through the words of Job he has seen the working of his own mind exposed. Now comes this whirlwind of knowledge from God concerning his unapproachable wisdom and power and glory. The mysteries of the universe are gathered before him. His mind is whirled away to the beginning of time and before; upward to the vast regions of space; downward to the great depths; into the wonders of all existences and their preservation; then the doors of darkness and the shadows of death stare upon his wondering thoughts; and the inexpressible greatness of Him who holds all in his will and who inhabits eternity seems to come full upon his view, leaving him with neither power nor will to answer again.
Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? Declare, if thou hast understanding.
Who can even suggest the many questions that are involved in this one, the mysteries enrolled in mysteries? Before the world was made, where was that out of which man's wonderful body was formed, and where his more wonderful life and intelligence? And in asking this, we overlap innumerable wonders concerning the descent to each of us, through all the evolutions and involutions of generation, and the manifestation in us of that being and life that was hidden in the existence of Adam when he walked the garden. Here is now an intelligence, a soul, one of a myriad such that were all in that one man, and which, at the time to which the question refers, existed only in the eternal repose of God's mighty power. And can this soul send up a question concerning the work of that Being?
All the inscrutable wonders of power and wisdom displayed in the creation of the world out of nothing are here presented to the mind that has been made attentive by the Lord. From whence came Jehovah to the work of creation? What existed before where the world now is? How from nothing came forth all this mighty mass? Let question after question arise, but they must remain for ever unanswered to our mortal intelligence. Where wast thou? So we are made to feel that God is infinite, and that we have no understanding.
Who hath laid the measures thereof, if thou knowest, and who hath stretched the line upon it? Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? Or who laid the corner-stone thereof when the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy?
It is said of Christ that all things were made by him and for him (Colossians 1:16). All visible things are figures of the invisible or spiritual, and set forth the wonders of the Redeemer's kingdom. And now while the natural mind is carried back by these interrogations to the beginning of time and to the inscrutable mysteries of natural creation, faith beholds greater things presented here even the wonders of redemption, the everlasting purpose of God, in which are enfolded all the mysteries and glories of the kingdom of Christ. The foundation and corner-stone to which Job is referred may be regarded as Christ, the Foundation of the New Earth, in the laying of which judgment is laid to the line and righteousness to the plummet.
Although the manifestation of Christ in the flesh was long after Job lived in the order of time, yet "he is before all things and by him all things subsist." He is before and above all time, "the King eternal, immortal, invisible." He is, as the Foundation in Zion, before the first of earth's children who hoped, for upon him the hope of the righteous rests. He says, "Before Abraham was, I am." He does not speak as though Abraham had to look forward to see him, neither does he place himself back in the order of time to a point previous to the day of Abraham. He does not say, Before Abraham was, I was. But he whose "goings forth have been from of old, from everlasting," "with whom there is no variableness, neither shadow of turning," "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday and today and for ever," "with whom a thousand years are as one day, and one day as a thousand years," says, "Before Abraham was, I am!" Men have been and are to be, but Christ only and forever is.
When the morning stars sang together. Christ is the Sun of Righteousness, whose rising is the morning. His angels or ministers that follow him, "that do his bidding, hearkening unto the voice of his word," are called stars, and they shine in the firmament of the New Heavens for ever. When Christ arose from the dead it was as the Sun of Righteousness. Then was the spiritual morning manifested. Then was made known "in the midst of the years (Habakkak 3:2)," the eternal realities of the world of glory. Then the disciples, the apostles – the morning stars – proclaimed glad tidings, sent forth their light in the utterance of that blessed doctrine which is as a glorious song to the hearts of those who rejoice in it, and were perfectly harmonious in all their proclamations and teachings, being "of one heart and of one soul." As the myriad stars that filled the vast expanse above in the morning of the creation, though differing in glory, mingled their various radiance in a perfect harmony of light, like various strains in a glorious song of praise, so these morning stars, set in the spiritual firmament, sang together. It was long after the world was made, in the order of time, that this morning light broke forth upon the world. And so it is still later and later that it appears to each of those who come after as they are successively manifested in time. With each it is morning when the light of truth first breaks upon his soul, bringing peace and joy. Yet when he sings the new song, it is in harmony with the morning stars, yea, in harmony and together with Abraham and all the earlier saints, with whom, and with all the general assembly of the Church of the first-born, he has set down together in the everlasting kingdom that is not of this world nor of time, upon the Mount Zion (Matthew 8:11; Hebrews 9:23); for there his dwelling-place must be when he is enabled to sing, and his songs take hold on eternity (Isaiah 42:11).
But who shall be able to say when the light of that morning was first formed, when the glory of salvation was first ordained and sent forth to fill the heaven where Christ eternally dwells? It was not when it first dawned upon our souls. It was not when it shone forth transcendently on the day of Pentecost. It was not when the earliest saint first found comfort in its heavenly radiance. It was not when God commanded the light of this natural world to shine out of darkness. Who shall say that the morning of that spiritual day of which Christ is the light, and which we rejoice and are glad in when his glory is revealed to us, is later than the morning of time, or that it is at all connected with time? Farther back yet we must go, or farther upward or beyond; for we leave the region of successive years and ages, where duration is measured and where there are past and future, and rise to that changeless eternity that is not divided or disturbed by all this stretch of time that we sometimes speak of as intervening between the eternity past and the eternity future, before we dare to look for the beginning of that Light that was in the beginning with God, and to say when heaven began to ring with songs of praise to the King of glory. And here we fail, and see the weakness of our powers of thought, and find the mystery of salvation, and feel the force of the question, Where wast thou? When spiritual and eternal joy was first ordained for sinners to be redeemed from death, where were we? Shall not such a question, such a thought, silence our murmurings and make us truly humble before God? So he says to us, "Be still, and know that I am God."
Or who shut up the sea with doors, when it brake forth as if it had issued out of the womb? When I made the cloud the garment thereof, and thick darkness a swaddling-band for it, and brake up for it my decreed place, and set bars and doors, and said, Hitherto shalt thou come, but no farther; and here shall thy proud waves be stayed?
With what fullness and strength of language are the mysteries of the ocean and its issuing forth from the recesses of Almighty power here presented, and how wonderfully forced upon the mind! But when the sea is made to represent to us the great existence of evil, with its, to us, undefined boundaries and immeasurable extent, a greater import is seen in the question. And it seems to be so presented in the Scriptures. Out of the sea the great beast arose; in it Leviathan has his abode; and, like the troubled sea, the wicked cast up mire and dirt. But there is nothing undefined or undecreed with God. He has his decreed place for the mighty ocean of iniquity. It is fully within his creative and controlling power (Isaiah 45:7). It shall do his bidding. It shall come so far as he will, but there its proud waves shall be stayed. There is nothing that can transpire through the wrath of man or the rage and malice of Satan but shall redound to the praise and glory of God (Psalm 76:10).
Host thou commanded the morning since thy days; and caused the dayspring to know his place; that it might take hold of the ends of the earth, that the wicked might be shaken out of it?
What a forcible reminder is here of man's limited power–of his utter inability to control in any degree that which represents his own joy and comfort! The spiritual application of the question is apparent in the terms used. It is "the Dayspring from on high" that is here presented, which, "through the tender mercy of God, hath visited" his people, "a light to lighten the Gentiles" – the ends of the earth – "and the glory of his people Israel (Luke 1:78; 2:32)." It is by the power of this light that the wicked, as shades of darkness before the rising sun, are shaken out of the earth, "destroyed with the brightness of his coming (II Thessalonians 2:8)." Have we ever been able to command this blessed morning, and bring the warming and comforting beams upon us when we were in spiritual darkness and coldness? The question is not asked of those who, like the earthly friends of Job, have never seen this light, but of him upon whom it has once shined. Can he look back to the time when it first shone forth from the infinite mind of God? Was it ordained at man's will? It came not at the first to answer any command of ours, nor is it now within the reach of our control. We wait for it as "they that watch for the morning (Psalm 130:6);" and when at the command of Him who causes it to know its place it breaks upon us, then the call is obeyed; "Arise, shine! for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee (Isaiah 60:1)." And then we sing, "This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it (Psalm 118:24)." In the darkness of which we have complained he prepared us to enjoy this heavenly light.
It is turned as clay to the seal; and they stand as doth a garment.
As the earth does not remain obdurately in darkness when the sun would impress upon it the seal of his glory, but yields passively to the power of his light, so when the spiritual Sun sends his beams upon the earth it is turned passively to their influence as clay to the seal. When he seals his people with his Holy Spirit, they are made plastic to receive the impress of that seal, which they bear unto the day of redemption (Ephesians 1:13; 4:30). His people are made willing in the day of his power (Psalm 110:3). The morning, the dayspring, stands as a garment, a vesture, enolding the unapproachable glory of God. "Thou clothest thyself with light as with a garment."
And from the wicked their light is withholden, and the high arm shall be broken. Who shall dare question why light is withholden from one and given to another? It is the Lord that speaks. "Let the kings of the earth hold their peace." "He hath done whatsoever he pleased (Psalm 115:3)." And we have only to hear what he speaks (Psalm 85:8), and say, "Even so, Father, for so it seems good in thy sight (Matthew 11:25,26.)"
Host thou entered into the springs of the sea? or hast thou walked in the search of the depth?
Away down there in the mysterious depths of ocean how often the inquiring thoughts wander, asking whence all the waters arise, how the constant supply is kept, and longing to look upon the strange wonders of the deep! But those mighty and marvelous depths are for ever closed from our view. Much more the great depths where the prince of darkness reigns – where Leviathan holds his course, unmoved by fear or love or pity. Have we walked in search of the depths of iniquity? Have we explored the recesses of evil and the fountains of wickedness that are within the hearts of the ungodly? Have we been able to measure and comprehend wickedness itself, and to know fully the exceeding sinfulness of sin? "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked; who can know it (Jeremiah 17:9)?" How then shall we judge Him in his work and dealings with men before whom are the righteous and the wicked, and to whose eye there is no depth or hidden place? His "judgments are a great deep (Psalm 36:6)," in which are comprehended all other depths. Who can search them out?
Have the gates of death been opened unto thee? or hast thou seen the doors of the shadow of death?
How rapidly the varied mysteries are presented, and the mind whirled from one to another! Let him who has dared to lift a murmuring thought to God concerning his dealing with us now try his power upon some of these, and answer when he demands. Why does the mind grow dizzy and faint even from the first? The bars and bounds between us and the infinite are here revealed, and the mind of him to whom they are shown by these demands is allowed to throw itself with all its power against them, that it may feel how utterly impassable they are.
How many dear friends we have seen die! How many an hour we have spent in the contemplation of death! Surely cannot we say that we have seen the doors of the shadow of death, even if they have not been opened to us? No, we have never seen them. We have seen the eye close, the breath cease, the pulse grow still; and then our imagination has followed the spirit, as we thought, on its viewless journey to its eternal home. But in all this we have been strictly confined to the world; our imaginations have been material and worldly. We have never yet seen what it is to die, except what appears to the outward view, nor had a glimpse of the realm beyond. It is impossible for the human mind to conceive of a state of existence where neither space nor time is.
Faith only has looked beyond, and mortal comprehension cannot receive the knowledge of faith. We only know of faith that it is a confiding grasp and embrace of the word of God, "the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen," and that it brings peace and rest.
And yet, while death is so impenetrable a mystery, Job has uttered a wish that he might find in its darkness and silence a release from his afflictions. This was but a wish of the natural mind, an uttering which he spoke without wisdom, and darkened counsel by words without knowledge. What mortal could know that darkness and silence and rest are beyond? The faith of God's elect, in the exercise of which our afflictions are borne with patience, sees a certain and unending rest in the bosom of eternal love that shall be fully enjoyed when we shall pass through the doors of death. But the imagination of man does not reach there. The saint does not know what he shall be, but it is enough for him to know that he shall be like his Saviour when he shall appear (I John 3:2).
Host thou perceived the breadth of the earth? Declare, if thou knowest it all.
Here at least we might suppose was a question that we could answer in the affirmative; for although the glance of one man can go but a little way over the breadth of the earth, yet by the united view and work of many has it not been all mapped and measured? But here also the infinite is presented. That which this question embraces is still beyond the powers of our perception. With the breadth of the earth is included all that lies within that breadth, with all the mysteries presented in the ensuing questions. When shall we ever be able to complete a survey and perceive it all, since at one point we should be held an age without having yet been able to explore and unravel the secrets it holds? We think we can imagine an infinity of greatness and extent as we look up to the revolving worlds above us and consider their countless numbers and immeasurable distances. But have we attempted to imagine an infinity in the opposite direction? And yet infinity is there, boundless and unsearchable as that of immensity. Smaller and smaller we may imagine the atom or point in space to become as we divide and sub-divide, but where shall we find a resting-point at nothing, where the lessening process cannot still go on? How long shall we have divided, how great shall have become the decrease, when we can no longer divide the imagined particle or point into ten thousand or a million parts, and continue still to reduce? Away down there, in the realms of littleness, in the infinite convergency of space, in the infinitesimal point, unnumbered degrees removed away from our sight, though lying within the circle of our reach, there is a world, a universe, an infinity, which the glance of the Almighty alone can survey, and where infinite power and wisdom alone can work. And the limitless character of God is presented to us by the unanswerable inquiries in this as well as in the other direction. Who can say he has perceived the breadth of the earth? Who knoweth it all?
But when we consider the New Earth, the Mount Zion, where the innumerable company of the saints are gathered and have their infinite spiritual dwelling-place, and where are all the wonderful and precious things that God has prepared for them that love him, the question carries us to the far higher range of spiritual things, and leaves us lost in adoring wonder, love and praise as the boundless fields of heaven present themselves to our faith and the glorious light of God fills us with unquestioning joy.
Where is the way where light dwelleth? And as for darkness, where is the place thereof that thou shouldst take it to the bound thereof and that thou shouldst know the paths to the house thereof? Knowest thou it because thou wast then born, or because the number of thy days is great?
Search through all the writings of men, and where shall we find language so perfectly fitting with expression the deep and longing inquiries of the mind concerning the most familiar things about us? longings and inquiries that reach into the (to us) vague regions beyond the possible explorations of science, and wander there for ever without satisfaction or rest, until they are quieted by a humble and rejoicing trust in God, and lost in an absorbing feeling of praise to Him the depths of whose wisdom and knowledge are unsearchable and past finding out. Philosophers may investigate and cause us to wonder at the published results of their researches and study, and yet the secrets which these questions of Jehovah cover remain secrets still. The searches of the human mind and the answers of science and philosophy do not even point in that direction.
The origin and nature of light have been made the subject of deep and learned study, and theories have been elaborated and illustrated by marvelous experiments, and yet the question is as unanswerable as ever by man – Where is the way where light dwelleth? If we trace the rays of natural light to the sun and explain all we can as to how it sends them forth, we yet have not seen the place where light dwelleth. How came light in the sun? Whence did it first spring forth, and what was before light? And as for darkness, that also is part of the creation of God (Isaiah 45:7). When it comes upon us, can we trace it back to its hiding-place? Can we follow it like a river to its source? Can we see its bounds, and follow the paths by which it has come to us till we reach the house it occupies? At what point in time or eternity did it first come forth?
With spiritual light, the knowledge of the glory of God, how much greater the mystery to the saint! Words may be multiplied in telling what inquiring thoughts we have had concerning the wonders of spiritual light, which represents all spiritual knowledge, love, joy, peace, comfort; and concerning darkness, or the absence of all these, and the experience of sorrow, coldness, pain. But these inquiries can never be fully told, nor can any other so comprehensive expression be given to them as in the form of these questions. As for the light and darkness themselves, we can experience them, but not explain them. One moment joy is in our mind, peace nestles softly in the heart, and love thrills all the being with delight; we may watch the feeling, but cannot explain it. The love of Christ passeth knowledge (Ephesians 3:19), the peace of God passeth all understanding (Philippians 4:7), and the joy of the Holy Ghost is inexpressible (I Peter 1:8). The next moment, perhaps, grief takes the same place, or rasping anger, or withering fear, or the cringing pain of self-reproach and shame. We note the difference in the feeling from the former, and the various shades of difference among these various feelings, as one recedes before another, or several passions hold mingled or conflicting sway; but what can we tell about it? Light and darkness are alike inexplicable. We only know that God created both light and darkness, peace and evil (Isaiah 45:7), and yet that "in him is no darkness at all;" that he is the fountain of light; and that when we are enabled to drink at that fountain and to rest humbly in him, our questionings and murmurings cease and our longing souls are satisfied. "Truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun (Ecclesiastes 11:7)."
Host thou entered into the treasures of the snow? Or host thou seen the treasures of the hail, which I have reserved against the time of trouble, against the day of battle and war?
As the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, so God's word is sent effectually forth upon the earth (Isaiah 55:10). His doctrine drops as the rain and distills as the dew, reviving and nourishing the tender plants in the garden of the Lord. His word also is like the snow when that work is required which the use and effect of snow upon the earth represents. The Church is not afraid of snow for her household, for they are all clothed with scarlet (Proverbs 3 1:21). To them God "giveth snow like wool." As the snow, though cold in itself, yet benefits the land where it rests through the winter, so from the same source from which the refreshing spiritual rain descends upon us there comes also the cold of snow – afflictions and griefs – to protect us as wool from the destructive chill of winter; and as the land is softened and broken up by the melting snow in spring more deeply than ever by the rain, so are we prepared by affliction for the reception of spiritual seed that may take root downward and bear fruit upward to the honor and glory of God.
The hail that destroyed the Egyptians sets forth in a figure the terrible judgments of God by which he overcomes his enemies when he goes forth in his anger against the inhabitants of the earth. If the treasures of the natural snow and hail are so unsearchable, how much more so are these spiritual treasure-houses, builded we know not where, from whence come forth at the command of God showers of blessing, afflictions like fleeces of protecting snow, and hail-storms of vengeance!
And how can we follow farther the vast and incomprehensible array of wonders and inscrutable mysteries? We are but the more and more lost in bewilderment at every new question, yet permitted to rejoice a little in being able to get a glimpse of spiritual things through them. All we have attempted to do has been faintly to connect these inquiries with our own experience, and try to recall the feeling that was ours when the force of each question was upon us, and see something of their meaning by the light of other Scriptures, as the Spirit might direct. Not a spiritual inquiry has ever arisen in our mind but the essence of it is here suggested in these answers of the Lord to Job, which compass about all our intellectual and spiritual being, make plain to us the limit of our powers and knowledge, and stretch away in every direction infinitely beyond.
The inquiries proceed concerning the parting of the light, the scattering of the east wind and the making a way for the lightning of thunder; concerning the purpose that sends rain upon the desolate wilderness, as well as upon the fruitful field cultivated for the use of man; the care that nourishes the herb and tints the flower with beautiful hues, as well in the desolate places where there is no man as where there are multitudes to enjoy them. And all at once how the all-supervising care, the overruling power, the purpose of love and mercy that lies back of all manifestation, are presented in the question that comes suddenly upon us, wonderful in simplicity, yet suggesting the mighty power and wisdom and loving-kindness from which all spiritual blessings descend: Hath the rain a father? Or who hath begotten the drops of dew?
The inquiries concerning our knowledge are here suspended for a while, closing with the wonders of the ice and the hoary frost of heaven, by which the waters are hid as with a stone under the frozen face of the deep.
And now what of our power to do, which includes wisdom and knowledge and strength combined?
Canst thou bind the sweet influence of Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion? Canst thou bring forth Mazzaroth in his season? Or canst thou guide Arcturus with his sons? Knowest thou the ordinances of heaven? Canst thou set the dominion thereof in the earth?
And if the constellations and ordinances of the natural heavens are so amazingly beyond our reach, how much more those of the spiritual firmament! Men untaught of God suppose they have much to do with the arrangements of the Church, and much power to place gifts for her light and instruction, to ordain angels or ministers who are as stars in the gospel heaven. But much more within their power are the stars in their courses than are these divine ordinances. God only can set their dominion in the earth. More readily could we keep back the light of Pleiades from the earth than we could bind the sweet influences of God's precious gifts in his church, which he has set as he pleased in radiant and harmonious clusters, or restrain the light that he has given to one of his servants to dispense for the comfort and joy of his people; and the bands of Orion were more easily loosed by mortal hands than the bands of his restraint from any man. When God sends forth his servants and loosens their tongues to speak his truth, all the powers of earth and hell cannot bind or restrain the sweet influences of their light; and when he withholds his light the mightiest prophet is powerless to speak – is "shut up, and cannot come forth." How can one who knows not even where light dwelleth imagine himself able to bring forth a star of light and set its dominion in the earth – tell where and when and for whose comfort it shall shine? How should a poor limited mortal, filled with darkness which is itself beyond his comprehension, suppose himself able to render even the least assistance in raising up and qualifying and sending forth one to preach the everlasting gospel, or to hasten or retard the time of his going to work? Though they are but weak mortals like their brethren, and only "earthen vessels," yet, as God's ministers, they are higher than the stars above human reach, and move in the work he has called them to, unaffected by all the changes of earth. (See Acts 13:2, and 14:26.) The work to which he appoints them, notwithstanding all the interference of men, is fulfilled. We have to wait upon him for all gifts in the Church, which he hath set as it hath pleased him (I Corinthians 12:18). He brings forth Mazzaroth in his season, and guides Arcturus with his sons.
Canst thou lift up thy voice to the clouds, that abundance of waters may cover thee?
When man can speak to the clouds and bring down the rain at his command, then may he have some reason to suppose that he can bring down abundance of spiritual blessings at his will and secure heavenly favors by his own works, which the false teachers declare that man is able to do. For God has said by Moses, "My doctrine shall drop as the rain (Deuteronomy 32:2)," and by Isaiah has expressly compared his word to the coming down of the rain in blessing upon the earth, which fully accomplishes his purpose (Isaiah 55:11). But Job knew that man possesses no such power, but must wait upon Him who alone can "make bright clouds (Zechariah 10:1)," and send forth "the earth and the latter rain." He is therefore reproved for his murmurs.
Canst thou send lightnings, that they may go and say unto thee, Here we are? There is in the flashing lightning a more startling exhibition of God's infinite power than in the growing blade of grass or the mild ray of light, though no more clear to the observance of wisdom. The more strikingly his infinite greatness is displayed, the more clearly do we see our own weakness. The lightnings go at his bidding, and each flash throughout all the ages of time and all the extent of the earth has been exactly timed and directed to fulfill his purpose.
Who hath put wisdom in the inward parts, or who hath given understanding to the heart?
Here we would pause to dwell for a moment upon the wonderful mystery of the mind and of the affections that is sometimes presented to us; but we can find no language to express the depth and peculiarity of that mystery, nor our feelings when it is before us. Thought most signally fails when thought is the subject. The powers of the mind cannot comprehend themselves, whence they came nor how they are set in motion. God has given wisdom and understanding to each in such degree as he would, and alone comprehends each motion and emotion of the mind and heart. Shall created wisdom reply against its infinite Creator, or presume to judge his work? What humility becomes us.
Who can number the clouds in wisdom, or who can stay the bottles of heaven when the dust groweth into hardness and the clods cleave fast together?
How can any dare to say that God's eternal decrees have not embraced everything and every event? The mere fact and manner of his mention of these things show them all to be within the scope and perfect control of his eternal counsel. From the beginning of time, of all the myriads of clouds that have sailed over the expanse of the natural heavens, whether wafted by the gentle breeze, driven fiercely before the tempest or gathered in somber rest over all the face of the sky, not one but was guided by his Almighty wisdom and fulfilled his everlasting purpose concerning it. And so with the clouds in the spiritual heavens–whether those that hide the light from his people, when "he keepeth back the face of his throne and spreadeth his cloud upon it," or the "bright clouds" which he makes to give reviving showers when they are needed–all are numbered and guided in wisdom. And who but He that has power to open the windows of heaven, break up the fountains of the great deep and send floods upon the earth, can stay the bottles of heaven when the earth suffers under them?
Wilt thou hunt the prey for the lion, or fill the appetite of the young lions when they couch in their dens and abide in their covert to lie in wait? Who provideth for the raven his food? When his young ones cry unto God, they wander for lack of meat.
When we think of the unnumbered variety of the animal creation, of the myriads that roam over the earth, fly above in the air and swim in the sea, and remember that each that has had even the briefest existence since the foundation of the earth has had its supply of food provided by the Almighty, who has had a specific purpose in the existence of each, we are lost in amazement at the omniscience and omnipotence that has kept all in view, and provided for all in the remotest wilderness and deepest recesses and minutest points of space, as well as in the fields where man numbers his flocks and herds. Suppose that it were ours to see that all had their supply, and our powers were made equal to the task, yet would we feel inclined to seek food for the venomous reptile or the ravenous beast of prey? Why, we would reason, should we nourish those that would destroy us? Yet God sustains them; and here he rebukes Job for asking, "Wherefore do the wicked live, become old, yea, are mighty in power?" In asking this question, Job asserted a truth which his friends denied; yet before God he expressed a murmur by the questioning form of the assertion, for which he is now reproved. God cares for all. "He giveth to the beast his food, and to the young ravens which cry (Psalm 147:9)." "He maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust (Matthew 5:45)."
In the closing verses of the last chapter and throughout the whole of this, individuals of the animal creation are brought to our notice. Each one no doubt has a special spiritual significance, but what this may be I cannot hope fully to understand. In some cases I may suggest an interpretation of the figure which will be sustained by the Scriptures, and then we may feel a degree of certainty in regard to its correctness. When any part of God's word is necessary to the present comfort and instruction of any of his children, it will be then unfolded to them by his Spirit directly or through the ministry of his servants. I trust that through this feeble effort of mine in these pages it may be God's will that some ray of light and comfort may be given to some of his dear children. It will be so if his blessed Spirit is directing me in this work, as I humbly pray that it may.
I will merely allude to the different beasts and birds mentioned in this chapter:
The wild goats of the rock and the hinds cannot be watched over by man as the flocks of his field are, yet all their ways are marked out by the Lord and their wants supplied. The goat is in one or two places used to represent those who shall not inherit life (Matthew 25:33). The hind is frequently used to represent in some sense the people of God. Naphtali is compared in the blessing of Jacob to "a hind let loose."
The wild ass may fitly represent the natural state and inclination of man, whose house God has made the wilderness and the barren land his dwellings. He scorneth the multitude of the city – the heavenly Jerusalem where the saints have their dwelling– neither regardeth he the crying of the driver. No man can tame him, bring him in from the wild freedom in which God has sent him forth, put upon him the yoke of Christ, the restraints of love and spiritual desires, and set him in the narrow path of life. The range of the mountains is his pasture, and he searcheth after every green thing – after all earthly pleasures. Israel in her transgressions is said to be "a wild ass used to the wilderness (Jeremiah 2:24; Hosea 8:9)."
What is said of the unicorn may bring before the mind the great and ungovernable strength of the wild passions of men as they are exhibited in the horrid cruelties of some uncivilized nations, and of some wicked rulers who are unrestrained by either fear or affection from the course suggested by their cruel or ambitious desires. Where these passions bear unrestrained sway, we cannot look for deeds of kindness nor repose any confidence whatever. Wilt thou trust him because his strength is great, or wilt thou leave thy labor to him? Wilt thou believe him, that he will bring home thy seed and gather it into thy barn?
The goodly wings of the peacock well represent the foolish vanity of the human heart, and the ostrich is so described as to present an emblem of cruelty and forgetfulness. God has given her great strength, but has withheld wisdom from her. "The daughter of my people is become cruel like the ostriches in the wilderness (Lamentations 4:3)."
Hast thou given the horse his strength? Hast thou clothed his neck with thunder? Canst thou make him afraid as a grasshopper? The glory of his nostrils is terrible. He paweth in the valley and rejoiceth in his strength; he goeth on to meet the armed men. He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted; neither turneth he back from the sword. The quiver rattleth against him, the glittering spear and the shield. He swalloweth the ground with fierceness and rage; neither believeth he that it is the sound of the trumpet. He saith among the trumpets, Ha! Ha! and he smelleth the battle afar off the thunder of the captains and the shouting.
Brief as this description is, so plain and life-like a picture could not be given by man in volumes of writing of both the horse and the battle-field where his mighty strength and fearlessness are displayed. There is an element in the description that tells of its spiritual meaning. We read the "the Lord of hosts hath visited his flock, the house of Judah, and hath made them as his goodly horse in the battle (Zechariah 10:3)." Here is evidently the Lord's description of his "goodly horse," which represents his servants whom he sends forth into the battle armed with the power of his Word. In themselves they are ignorant as the horse, which, with all his strength, "is a vain thing for safety (Psalm 33:17)." But as his servants or ministers he sends them forth in his strength, which they can feel and exert, but can no more understand of themselves than the horse can understand concerning the great strength he can display. While the servant of Christ feels his own weakness and declares his insufficiency, as did Paul, yet he has a spiritual courage and eagerness for the battle answering fully to this description. He may lack natural courage, may be the most timid and retiring of men, but when God has clothed his neck with the thunder of his word, he mocketh at fear and turns not back from the sword of his spiritual enemy. He can fight with carnal weapons no better than before, but with his spiritual weapons and spiritual strength he is invincible. "Though a host should encamp against me," he says, "what shall I fear?" And "rejoicing in the Lord and in the power of his might," confident and rejoicing in his strength, he goeth on to meet the armed men unchecked, though the quiver of Satan rattleth against him, the glittering spear and the shield. His speed is equal to every necessity. No power of man is required, nor would be competent, to convey or hurry him to the field of battle. The Lord, and not man, has prepared him for the work, and has given him the swift eagerness that will, under his control and direction, bring him to the place designed and to the face of his enemies at the right time. Let the feeblest saint look within himself at the feeling with which he regards the truth, at his confidence in it, and remember the courageous exaltation of soul with which it has sometimes inspired him, making him willing to declare before a gainsaying world his confidence in it, and his assurance that it will prevail over all its opposers, and making him sure that the bitterest persecutions, even to death, could not prevail to turn his soul from that confidence and rejoicing, let him consider this feeling of his concerning the truth, and he will have an intimation of that which is represented by the strength and courage of this goodly horse. With this love of the truth and confidence in the Lord, laying hold on eternal life, the servants of God fight the good fight of faith.
In the flight of the hawk, stretching her wings toward the south, the wisdom of God and the limits of man's wisdom are seen.
Doth the eagle mount up at thy command, and make her bed on high? She is a bird of prey, seeking it from the crag of the rock, and beholding it afar off Her young ones also suck up blood, and where the slain are, there is she. Our Saviour says, after warning his disciples of the false prophets who "shall show great signs and wonders, insomuch that if it were possible they shall deceive the very elect," "For wheresoever the carcass is, there will the eagles be gathered together (Matthew 24:28; Luke 17:37)."
Moreover the Lord answered Job and said, Shall he that contendeth with the Almighty instruct him? He that reproveth God, let him answer it.
As Job has been murmuring under the mighty hand of God, thus contending with him, and reproving him for laying his hand so heavily upon one so feeble and insignificant, exhibiting the rebellious disposition of our poor fallen nature, the Lord has swept before his view the wonders of his wisdom and power as displayed in the familiar things of nature and in the kingdom of his grace. Now, if the sufferer under a sense of sin who longs to be holy, considering the ability of God to do what he pleased, should let a thought rest upon his mind that it would have been better that he should have been made and held so as never to have sinned, but to have enjoyed happiness for ever in this life, or that he should have been taken away in infancy, or that he should never have been called into being–all of which Job, as many another, has either intimated or plainly expressed in the bitterness of his soul–let him justify himself if he can in these wishes that are but reproofs to God, being against his way, by answering these questions. But Job is overwhelmed and humbled by the unanswerable display, and says: Behold, lam vile; what shall I answer thee? I will lay my hand upon my mouth. Once have I spoken, but I will not answer: yea, twice, but I will proceed no further.
There is yet more, however, to be displayed before him: Then answered the Lord unto Job out of the whirlwind and said, Gird up thy loins now like a man; I will demand of thee, and answer thou me. Wilt thou also disannul my judgment? Wilt thou condemn me that thou mayest be righteous?
Shall it be shown by Job's complaints that God's ways are not best – that his judgments, either in reference to the righteous or the wicked, are to be condemned? How wonderful has been the manner of the Lord's answer thus far! It has been but to display his work, and by unanswerable questions to show how far his wisdom is beyond the conception of man. Infinite wisdom cannot err.
Heretofore the objects presented in the questions, if we have understood anything of their spiritual signification, have in some way referred to the "mystery of godliness" – either to the everlasting purpose and creative power and wisdom of God, the various subjects connected with the Church, or to the natural state of man. Two more subjects are to be presented - "the mystery of iniquity" as it appears upon the earth, and the prince of darkness. Two more beasts are presented after this pause in the answer of the Lord, and but two, which are thus separated from all the others.
Before these beasts are spoken of, Job seems to be prepared for the consideration of them and that which they represent by the following questions, in which is brought to his mind his utter inability to deal with the manifestations of Satanic pride and wickedness among men:
Hast thou an arm like God, or canst thou thunder with a voice like him? Deck thyself now with majesty and excellency, and array thyself with glory and beauty. Cast abroad the rage of thy wrath, and behold every one that is proud and abase him. Look upon every one that is proud and bring him low, and tread down the wicked in their places . Hide them in the dust together, and bind their faces in secret. Then will I also confess unto thee that thine own right hand can save thee.
How forcibly by these words are our weakness, and littleness, and insignificance, and impotency made to appear to us, and how gloriously shines forth in them the mighty power of God! What can we do with pride and wickedness? When it rises in our own hearts we are at once overcome, unless God arise for our help. When it appears against us in our enemies, we may cast abroad the rage of our wrath, but it falls impotently. We cannot even see the wicked or discern when evil pride exists, unless God anoint and direct our eyes. But it is all before God, and he need but turn his eye upon it and it is consumed. "He beheld and drove asunder the nations (Habakkuk 3:6)." He had but to look upon the Egyptian host, and Pharaoh in all his pride was brought low and the wicked were trodden down in their places. Reproof is evidently conveyed here for the feeling of haste and fretfulness which Job has exhibited while he has repelled the false accusations and contended against the false doctrine of his three friends. And what Christian but can feel in some degree the force of the reproof resting upon him? David says, "Fret not thyself because of evil-doers." But we know that we do often fret, that our human nature often interferes while we contend for the truth against its opposers, and that anxiety and a hasty and even angry spirit are often exhibited, as though we felt that it was our task to abase their pride and bring them low. We can often witness in ourselves the feeling which caused Moses at the rock to say, "Must we fetch you water out of this rock (Numbers 20:10)?"
What has been already presented in the preceding chapter would seem to have most conclusively shown the inability of Job to abase pride, tread down the wicked and put evil out of existence. But the subject is now more fully displayed in its greatness and depth:
Behold now behemoth which I made with thee; he eateth grass like an ox.
What particular animal is here intended – whether the elephant or hippopotamus, or some species larger yet of which none remain now upon the earth – I do not consider it material to inquire. It is no doubt the largest and most formidable animal that was created upon the earth. The word behemoth literally signifies beasts, being plural; and considering the peculiarity of the description, the fact that it is the Lord who describes it, the circumstances and evident typical character of the one addressed, and the place in the general subject where it is brought in, it seems clear that it is not merely a literal animal to which the attention of God's people is thus commanded, but that there is represented here the great embodiment of spiritual pride and wickedness upon the earth, the organized opposition to the ways of God; the same subject that is variously or in parts presented in Revelation by the beasts that rose up out of the sea and out of the earth, the image of the beast and the great red dragon.
The thoughts of the awakened soul are sometimes turned with wondering but unanswered inquiry to the blind and cruel ignorance of the savage and idolatrous races of men, to the shocking inhumanity displayed in the rites of their religion. Why should the Creator have allowed such things? What must be the feeling that possesses them! How impossible for us to effect a change! The impossibility being, we suppose, because of the great extent of the evil, the great preponderance of the nations where it is. But when we get a view of the nature of spiritual pride, perhaps seeing it in our own hearts or seeing its manifestation in another, seeing how stupidly perverse and obstinate it is in its nature, then appears to us the inherent impossibility of its overthrow by mortal power. But then again, when the light of truth is very clear to us, we behold with greater astonishment the same blind and cruel principle displayed more hideously in the organizations of men professing to be followers of Christ, yet hating and bitterly opposing his truth. Here is "Anti-christ," "the man of sin," "Mystery, Babylon the great," the embodiment of the "mystery of iniquity."
As he is described in the various Scriptures that speak of his characteristics and manifestations, so he is described here: Lo, now his strength is in his loins and his force in the navel of his belly. He moveth his tail like a cedar; the sinews of his stones are wrapped together. His bones are as strong pieces of brass; his bones are like bars of iron. The vain self-confidence and pride of the children of wickedness are thus most strongly set forth. David says, "Their strength is firm." No man can break it down. In II Thessalonians 2, Paul also describes him in his proud confidence and vain exaltation. We look upon him with wonder. He is chief of the ways of God. God has a purpose in him which is far beyond our power to comprehend, and when that purpose shall be fulfilled we are told that the Lord shall consume him with the spirit of his mouth (II Thessalonians 7:8). So here we are told that He that made him can make his sword to approach unto him. Man can only look upon him and wait God's time. He must first "fill up the measure of his iniquity." The mystery of iniquity must first be finished. Job, "the perfect man," is therefore called upon to behold him and consider his appearance and ways, and to know that he also is within the creative and controlling power and wisdom of God, who made darkness and evil as well as light and peace (Isaiah 55:11), who raised up Pharaoh as well as Moses, to make known his power (Romans 9:17). Which I made with thee. The righteous and the wicked in their natural state were made together, and in both the "perfect man" and "the man of sin" the power of God is made to appear. His ways are inscrutable.
In the description of this beast the contrast between the wicked and the righteous appears, although he eateth grass like an ox, as the false teachers appear to worldly view much the same as the true servants of God. His strength is in his loins – in himself – while the strength of the perfect man is in the Lord. The mountains bring him forth food – earthly food – while the food of the saint comes down from heaven. He lieth under the shady trees, in the covert of the reed and fens. The shady trees cover him with their shadow; the willows of the brook compass him about. So the workers of iniquity are said to work in secret. Coverts and dark places they choose for their dwellings spiritually, while they take counsel together and bring forth "their unfruitful works of darkness." "It is a shame to speak of those things which are done of them in secret (Ephesians 5:12)."
The man of God stands trembling before Jordan, the river of judgment, or hasteth to flee from the swelling of its waves, until God shall come to his help, roll back the overflowing tide and show him a pathway through the deep waters. But as for this self-confident and presumptuous beast, Behold, he drinketh up a river and hasteth not; he trusteth that he can draw up Jordan into his mouth. He taketh it in with his eyes; his nose pierceth through snares. The judgments of God are nothing to the false teachers and workers of iniquity. They know nothing of that righteous judgment which was against God's people, as it is for ever against all others, which the death of Christ alone could fulfill for his people's deliverance, that they might pass over into the land of peace and rest. They blindly believe themselves able to answer all the demands of the law – to fulfill its judgments. They never haste, as the righteous do, in fearful apprehension of the overwhelming judgments of God, for "there is no fear of God before their eyes." They trust they can drink the river of judgment dry and get over safely. As Pharaoh in his haughty pride and blindness took in the sea with his eyes, making light of that which caused Israel to tremble and cry out in fear, so do they look lightly upon judgment, seeing it in all its depth and breadth, as they vainly imagine, and feeling sure of their strength to meet and pass over it, until suddenly justice and judgment take hold upon them, and they sink "like lead in the mighty waters" which were divided only for the people of God to pass through.
The snares that beset and perplex the way of the righteous do not trouble him. His nose pierceth through snares.
The great monster of the deep is the last brought to the notice of Job. If this wonderful description were applied merely to the whale, some parts of it would hardly seem appropriate, though the fearful admiration with which he inspires the mind is fully expressed through this highly figurative language. But there is more than a literal fish or serpent, be he never so great, presented here. This is "that old serpent, which is the devil and Satan," whose abode is in the deep; the great source of all the various manifestations of evil; "the prince of darkness." Here is innate wickedness, considered in its own essential being, as a separate thing, unaffected by human interests or affections, which seems to soften or partially cover its hideous fearfulness as it is manifested in the world. Here is hatred of good as a distinct principle; not a passion excited in the human breast by the action of another, where there is affection that may turn or fear that may hold back its fury, but simply the essential principle of hatred and enmity against God.
What an unsearchable mystery is sin! We have wondered concerning its origin, and much more concerning its essential nature. But all our speculations are in vain. Here is a mystery, a great deep, that can be fathomed and surveyed only by the mind of God.
The tenor of the description does not seem to sustain the idea that the prince of darkness is coeval with God, and came from within his dominions to wage unsuccessful war against him; nor, on the other hand, that he was ever in that heaven of eternal glory where the glorified saints dwell with their Redeemer. Nor do I find such theories in the Scriptures.
The object of this answer of the Lord seems to be to display to Job the infinite greatness of the Almighty in power and wisdom, and the inability of mortal intelligence to find out or judge of his works. "How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!"
Whatever theories we may choose to have concerning the devil, we must not allow a thought that there has ever been an existence or an event that has contradicted the eternal purpose of God. We must not hold a theory or harbor a thought that will trammel in our minds the free consideration of God as infinitely before all other existence, and as infinitely surrounding all on every side, both in presence and existence, and in creative and controlling power and wisdom. "Who hath directed the Spirit of the Lord, or, being his counselor, hath taught him."
"Now the serpent was more subtle than any beast of the field which the Lord God had made." Concerning the origin of that subtlety, we can no more understand than we can understand concerning the origin of the goodness of God. We are repelled by the bars of infinity in wisdom and by a just fear of God from seeking after such knowledge.
We will pause but at a few points in this description, though every word is undoubtedly significant. After showing by the first few questions how powerless man is to deal with this being, to fight against sin and overcome iniquity in his own strength, the Lord says to Job, Lay thy hand upon him, remember the battle, do no more. This battle is that which our Saviour fought, wherein he "destroyed him that had the power of death, that is the devil," thereby freeing them "who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage (Hebrews 2:14,15)." This battle and victory Isaiah thus prophetically declares: "In that day the Lord, with his sore and great and strong sword, shall punish leviathan the piercing serpent, even leviathan that crooked serpent; and he shall slay the dragon that is in the sea (Isaiah 27:1)."
As I have alluded to the popular theory that Satan once inhabited the eternal heavens and was cast out for rebellion, I will here remark that I believe all those expressions of Scripture which speak of there being war in heaven, and of Satan being cast out or falling as lightning, refer to this battle, this conflict and victory of Christ through his death and the deliverance of his people from Satan's power, and not to any former war that was ever carried on in that blessed abode of the righteous where God dwells. Satan had a place in the legal heavens; the children of Belial there went through the forms of worship with the children of God. He has a place in the world, where he "walks up and down and goes to and fro," as we find to our sorrow. But when our Saviour arose in triumph, Satan fell from his place in the Church or legal heavens, and in her gospel form there is found no place for him any more. (See Revelation 12:7,8.) In the gospel heavens, when we can spiritually dwell there, we find perfect safety and freedom from his annoyance. He only attacks us when we go out upon the earth, live after the flesh, start down from Jerusalem to Jericho, which is a most unsafe journey for a child of God.
In ourselves we are powerless, yet through Christ we are victorious, and remembering the battle, remembering his death and resurrection, we lay our hands as conquerors upon the great enemy in the name of the Captain of our salvation, and do no more. It would be distrusting or denying the sufficiency of his work to take for a moment the doctrine of the world concerning salvation, that something is left for us to do. Satan would soon swallow us up; therefore the saints are warned and commanded to hold him as conquered in the name of the great King, and do no more.
The idea of the natural man seems to be that Satan, as his spirit is manifested in the human heart, can be persuaded and overcome by working upon some imagined weakness or kindness. But, Behold, the hope of him is in vain; shall not one be cast down even at the sight of him? None is so fierce that dare stir him up; who then is able to stand before me? The more we have entered into a knowledge of the depths of evil and have seen the dark mystery of it, the more have we recognized the immeasurable power over it. Who hath prevented me, that I should repay him? Whatsoever is under the whole heaven is mine. I will not conceal his parts, nor his power, nor his comely proportion. And they are fully displayed to those who shall see the glory of God and rejoice therein. We pass by the description of his awful strength and firmness, his pride in them, and the glaring light and fire that go out of his eyes and mouth, which men so greatly mistake for the light of truth and heavenly fire, but which are full of destruction.
In his neck remaineth strength, and sorrow is turned into joy before him. The sorrows and anguish of those with whom he can meet are his joy. To cause pain and witness agony are his delight. His essential nature, in all its unimagined coldness of cruelty, could not be more forcibly expressed: Sorrow is turned into joy before him.
No mortal power can affect him through the infliction of pain, for to that he is insensible. The flakes of his flesh are joined together; they are firm in themselves; they cannot be moved. No word of entreaty can be heard, no pity felt by him, for his heart is firm as a stone; yea, as hard as a piece of the nether millstone. How awful to think that a principle whose nature can be so described can have a lodging-place within us! Yet here is the nature of the spirit of depravity, or iniquity– "The spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience." This principle is hard and cold. It cannot be warmed, cannot be made to feel, except to joy in works of evil and to delight in the suffering it can witness. It is exemplified in all those evil and wicked passions that lurk within us, upon any one of which, if we look abstractly and fix our attention for a while, we shall see the hardness of the nether millstone. It is manifested by the self-righteous Pharisee in condemning the poor Publican, as well as by Herod in slaying the children; by the zealous Saul in persecuting the saints, as well as by Cain in slaying his brother; and by the saints themselves, if left to themselves for a moment unprotected by grace against the influence of this monster of the deep. Only God has power over this spirit to break it down and destroy it, as he does in all his saints. Man is powerless to fight it alone. The sword of him that layeth at him cannot hold: the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon. Why should he not esteem iron as straw, count slingstones and darts as stubble, and laugh at the shaking of a spear, when pain is his delight, when sharp stones are under him, and for his pleasure he spreadeth sharp-pointed things upon the mire? Man cannot make him flee, for upon the earth there is not his like, who is made without fear.
Many of the expressions referred to, which could by no means apply to the whale or serpent literally, plainly suggest a spiritual application, and show that we are correct in regarding this as a figure of that mighty monster, the "prince of darkness," "the prince of the power of the air," the enemy of God and his people, from whom spring all sin, all "spiritual wickedness in high places," all pride of iniquity and blasphemy; and the last expression concerning him fully establishes the application of the figure: He beholdeth all high things; he is a king over all the children of pride.
Great and marvelous is the power of our Saviour, which is displayed in the destruction of this enemy to the peace of his people, and in granting them the fruits of that victory, by subduing their evil passions under the reign of his grace and freeing them from the power and dominion of sin by faith in his all-prevailing name. "Thanks be unto God, who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ!"