How immediately this question speaks to us! How it seems to describe that mental and moral incongruity of which we are more or less the subjects--that feeling in which we are so often disposed to say to our Maker, Why hast Thou made me thus? This is the subject of the Book of Job--the mystery of life--the vanity of knowledge--the mysterious conflict of what man feels he is, and what he feels he might be, and desires indeed to be. In the text is--
I. A great certainty. “Light is given.” Man is the subject of supernatural light. The light of nature, as it is called, is not generated and developed in the order and course of mere nature. The light within the soul falls from other worlds, from unseen, unrealised heights beyond the soul God lights up the faculties, kindles the imagination, informs the judgment, and animates the hope. I take it as a great certainty that we have a strange light kindled within our being, unaccountable and awful. How is Christ “the light of the world”? It is as He imparts to the world by His words a new consciousness. Christ deepens the springs and widens the horizons of our knowledge. God has never left Himself without a witness. “Light is given.”
II. A great perplexity. “The way is hid.” It seems that the light only reveals itself, neither the objects nor the way. It seems as if our consciousness became paralysed at the touch of speculation, a dark, black wall rises where we anticipated we should find a way. The great conflict now, as ever, waging here, is the conflict between light and will. The light faculty in us disports itself over a wide field of intelligence, and scans and comprehends all objects; but the will finds itself powerless, and inquires of the light, To what good is it that thou art here? Man’s happiness is in the equilibrium of these two. In human life there are heretics of the understanding; these are those properly called such--heresiarchs: and heretics of the will; the infirm of purpose. How happy are they who, small as their circle of light and life may be, find no disharmony; small, but a state in which the understanding is in harmony with the will. Does it not seem to thee, frequently, that thou art a man whose way is hid? This smiting perplexity, why, it occasionally strikes us all. God is love, but what a world of pain! Man is free, but what a hemming in of his being in every direction! Then come the errors and mistakes of actual life.
III. The great solution--the consolations of the light. I advance beyond the text. Light can only be seen in Christ. God only known in Him.
1. It is so from the very nature of the soul. The soul in its nature is light. Divinely derived, it can never forfeit its light power, but it is in eclipse. God has made the soul the fountain of light in its intentions, in its innate power to reason correctly on natural data. There is a light within, but it is unavailing without help from without; for the corruptions and the powers of the senses all tend to embase the light.
2. Why is light given? This is comfort--some light is given. He who has given some will give more.
3. Why is light given to a man whose way is hid? To enable him to find his way, and to escape beyond the hedge. Light is not its own end. It has an end beyond itself. Light is given to teach a man his dependence; to teach him to look beyond himself. Is it not humbling to find our entire inadequacy to even the most ordinary occasions of life? We step constantly into a labyrinth where our greatest cunning will not avail for us.
4. That which is naturally illegible to sense, and to the apprehension of sense, is legible to faith. Life, hidden still to the spirit of speculation, is revealed to the spirit of prayer. (E. Paxton Hood.)
Light and life
My object is to call your attention to life itself, and the reason why it is given. We do not ask the question, Why do I live? until trouble comes. Life is not a mystery to the little child, or the maiden, or the young man. It is when adversity comes to us, that we ask, “Wherefore is light given and life?” Why do we live? We are to recognise the fact that all things and all persons are of God, and exist for the pleasure of God, if we would solve this problem, If you leave God out of your reckoning, then it matters not what conclusion you may come to. There are some who think that God is equally glorified by the salvation or the ruin of a sinner. He is not. The very end of God is defeated in the ruin of the sinner. God has created us, and placed us here, not simply that we may live in this world, but that we may live for evermore. God has made us living men and women that we may serve and enjoy Him forever. (Charles Williams.)
Light on a hidden way
When Job put this question he was as far down in the world as a man can be who is not debased by sin. Two things, in this sad time, seem to have smitten Job with most unconquerable pain.
1. He could not make his condition chord with his conviction of what ought to have happened. He had been trained to believe in the axiom; that to be good is to be happy. Now he had been good, and yet here he was as miserable as it was possible for a man to be. And the worst of all was, he could not deaden down to the level of his misery. The light given him on the Divine justice would not let him rest. His subtle spirit, restless, dissatisfied, tried him every moment.
2. There appeared to by light everywhere, except on his own life. If life would strike a fair average; if other good men had suffered too, or even bad men, then he could bear it better. But the world went on just the same. Other homes were full of gladness. Perhaps not many men ever fall into such supreme desolation as this, that is made to centre in the life of this most sorrowful man. But one may reach out in all directions and find men and women who are conscious of the light shining, but who cannot find the way; who, in a certain sense, would be better if they were not so good. The very perfection of their nature is the way by which they are most easily bruised. Keen, earnest, onward, not satisfied to be below their own ideal, they are yet turned so woefully this way and that by adverse circumstances, that, at the last, they either come to accept their life as a doom, and bear it in grim silence, or they cut the masts when the storm comes, and drift a helpless hull broadside to the breakers, to go down finally like a stone. In men and nations you will find everywhere this discord between the longing that is in the soul, and what the man can do. Try to find some solution of the question of the text. We cannot pretend to make the mystery all clear, so that it will give no more trouble. Job, in his trouble, would have lost nothing and gained very much, if he had not been so hasty in coming to the conclusion that God had left him, that life was a mere apple of Sodom, that he had backed up to great walls of fate, and that he had not a friend left on earth. His soul, looking through her darkened windows, concluded the heavens were dark. Is not this now, as it was then, one of the most serious mistakes that can be made? I try to solve great problems of providence, perhaps, when I am so unstrung as to be entirely unfitted to touch their more subtle, delicate, and far-reaching harmonies. As well might you decide on some exquisite anthem when your organ is broken, and conclude there is no music in it because you can make no music of it, as, in such a condition of the life, and such a temper of the spirit, try to find these great harmonies of God. Job and his friends speculate all about the mystery, and their conclusions from their premises are generally correct, but they have forgotten to take in the separate sovereign will of God, as working out a great purpose in the man’s life, by which he is to be lifted into a grander reach of insight and experience than ever he had before. They were both wrong and all wrong, God often darkens the way that the melody may grow clear and entire in the soul. If this man could have known--as he sat there in the ashes, bruising his heart on this problem of providence--that, in the trouble that had come upon him, he was doing what one man may do to work out the problem for the world, he might again have taken courage. No man lives to himself. Job’s life is but your life and mine, written in larger text . . . God seldom, perhaps never, works out His visible purpose in one life: how, then, shall He in one life work out His perfect will? Then while we may not know what trials wait on any of us, we can believe, that as the days in which this man wrestled with his dark maladies are the only days that make him worth remembrance, so the days through which we struggle, finding no way, but never losing the light, will be the most significant we are called to live. Men in all ages have wrestled with this problem of the difference between the conception and the condition. But it is true that “men who suffered countless ills, in battles for the true and just,” have had the strongest conviction, like old Latimer, that a way would open in those moments when it seemed most impossible. (Robert Collyer.)
The sorrowful man’s question
Job’s case was such that life itself became irksome. He wondered why he should be kept alive to suffer. Could not mercy have permitted him to die out of hand? Light is most precious, yet we may come to ask why it is given. See the small value of temporal things, for we may have them and loathe them.
I. The case which raises the question. “A man whose way is hid, and whom God hath hedged in.” He has the light of life, but not the light of comfort.
1. He walks in deep trouble, so deep that he cannot see the bottom of it. Nothing prospers, either in temporals or in spirituals. He is greatly depressed in spirit, he can see no help for his burden, or alleviation of his misery. He cannot see any ground for comfort either in God or in man, “His way is hid.”
2. He can see no cause for it. No special sin has been committed. No possible good appears to be coming out of it. When we can sea no cause we must not infer that there is none. Judging by the sight of the eyes is dangerous.
3. He cannot tell what to do in it. Patience is hard, wisdom is difficult, confidence scarce, and joy out of reach, while the mind is in deep gloom. Mystery brings misery.
4. He cannot see the way out of it. He seems to hear the enemy say, “They are entangled in the land, the wilderness hath shut them in” (Exo_14:3). He cannot escape through the hedge of thorn, nor see an end to it: his way is straitened as well as darkened. Men in such a case feel their griefs intensely, and speak too bitterly. If we were in such misery, we, too, might raise the question; therefore let us consider--
II. The question itself. “Why is light given?” etc. This inquiry, unless prosecuted with great humility and childlike confidence, is to be condemned.
1. It is an unsafe one. It is an undue exaltation of human judgment. Ignorance should shun arrogance. What can we know?
2. It reflects upon God. It insinuates that His ways need explanation, and are either unreasonable, unjust, unwise, or unkind.
3. There must be an answer to the question; but it may not be one intelligible to us. The Lord has a “therefore” in answer to every “wherefore”; but He does not often reveal it; for “He giveth not account of any of His matters” (Job_33:13).
4. It is not the most profitable question. Why we are allowed to live in sorrow is a question which we need not answer. We might gain far more by inquiring how to use our prolonged life.
III. Answers which may be given to the question.
1. Suppose the answer should be, “God wills it.” Is not that enough? “I opened not my mouth; because Thou didst it” (Psa_39:9).
2. To an ungodly man sufficient answers are at hand. It is mercy which, by prolonging the light of fife, keeps you from worse suffering. For you to desire death is to be eager for hell. Be not so foolish. It is wisdom which restrains you from sin, by hedging up your way, and darkening your spirit. It is better for you to be downcast than dissolute. It is love which calls you to repent. Every sorrow is intended to whip you Godward.
3. To the godly man there are yet more apparent reasons. Your trials are sent to let you see all that is in you. In deep soul trouble we discover what we are made of. To bring you nearer to God. The hedges shut you up to God; the darkness makes you cling close to Him. Life is continued that grace may be increased. To make you an example to others. Some are chosen to be monuments of the Lord’s special dealings; a sort of lighthouse to other mariners. To magnify the grace of God. If our way were always bright we could not so well exhibit the sustaining, consoling, and delivering power of the Lord. To prepare you for greater prosperity. To make you like your Lord Jesus, who lived in affliction. Improvement--Be not too ready to ask unbelieving questions. Be sure that life is never too long. Be prepared of the Holy Spirit to keep to the way even when it is hid, and to walk on between the hedges, when they are not hedges of roses, but fences of briar. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Whom God hath hedged in.
Hedged in
We often read of God loving man, of God punishing man, but not of His hedging him in. And yet the idea is as solemn as it is striking, and as beautiful as it is solemn. Its application depends upon the manner in which we regard it, for the fact may be applied in different ways. Let us consider--
I. Who it is God hedges in.
1. Sometimes it is the wicked. When the violent man rages against God and is calculated to injure the cause of righteousness, he is restrained. The voice comes, “Thus far shalt thou go and no further.” Pharaoh was hedged in. Even Satan is hedged in.
2. Sometimes it is the righteous. Here we have an instance before us in the case of Job. He had done nothing to merit punishment. So it was with Jeremiah. He was shut up. Good men must be expected to be surrounded by a hedge. Such a position often causes suffering, sorrow, and pain.
II. How does God hedge in? He manifests His power to do so--
1. By providential government. How often do people realise practically the power of these words! They have wished to enter upon a different sphere of labour, to remove from one place to another, or to stay in the place they inhabit. But difficulty after difficulty has arisen, obstacle after obstacle has presented itself, till the person has found that he could not break through the hedge which surrounds him.
2. By affliction, sorrow, and distress.
3. By bodily pain or weakness. The Divine purposes are inscrutable.
III. Why does God hedge in?
1. To keep evil men from doing mischief. The unbridled lusts and passions of the wicked are not satisfied with self-satisfaction; they must persecute, injure, and destroy. Almighty God puts a bound to their licence for the benefit of the world.
2. To prevent good men from sin. To save the souls of weak but righteous men; He will keep them from the opportunity of being led astray.
