Tag Archives: Issue WOT52-4

I Must Decrease

      It belongs to the highest Christian experience to be able to say, “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30). Self may be our greatest enemy, while we may be entirely ignorant of the power of such a foe. It is therefore well to sit down from time to time and ask ourselves the question, “What is the motive power of my zeal in the Lord’s work? Is it the constraining love of Christ (2 Cor. 5:14)? Or, beneath all my seeming earnestness, is there a secret, undefined longing to make a name for myself, or to build up something in which I can glory?”

      There is at least one test that we may apply to our devotion to the Lord, and it is this:If our eye is single for Him (Matt. 6:22), we will be quite ready to rejoice in the success of another man’s labors. We do not say we will be ready to rejoice in anything that professes to be work for God, for in that case we would be found rejoicing in very much that is simply a caricature of the “glorious Gospel” (1 Tim. 1:11). But what we say is that if our zeal is from above, we will be found rejoicing in every work for God that is manifestly from above. It will not matter whether I am the instrument or some other person is the instrument. Is Christ exalted? Is He increasing? If so, that is enough for every one who is truly devoted to His person.

      There may be no increase as regards my prominence in the work. On the contrary, I may be on the decrease. The Lord may be exalting other workers while I am being overlooked and forgotten by the saints at large. But what if this is the case? If I have the spirit of John the Baptist, if my zeal has had a heavenly origin, I will rejoice. It would surely be strange if that which causes joy in the presence of the angels should awake no responsive echo in my breast!

      “Rejoice with Me” says Christ (Luke 15:6,9). Self finds no part in that invitation. We are invited to rejoice with Him. Are we ever ready to rejoice?

            (From The Believer’s Treasury, 1887.)

  Author:  UNKNOWN         Publication: Issue WOT52-4

Seeking Great Things

“And do you seek great things for yourself? Seek them not” (Jer. 45:5).

      This beautiful though brief chapter of just five verses is full of instruction for the children of God in all ages, and particularly for any who attempt to serve the Lord in any public capacity.

      Baruch had been an instrument, used of God, to communicate His mind to others. However, his own soul must not be neglected; hence the message given to him in the Scripture above. It is of the greatest moment that those who minister to others be in a right state of soul themselves. Nothing is more dangerous than to go on giving out the truth of God while the heart is set upon self-seeking, or the private life of the servant is accompanied with unholiness and lack of humility before the Lord.

      In Baruch’s case, it would seem that he felt the king’s rejection of the Word of God as an insult aimed at himself and his master, rather than at the Lord who inspired the writing that was in the roll. Perhaps almost unknown to himself, Baruch was seeking a measure of recognition from man. It is so easy to slip into this, especially if one is serving the Lord in the gospel or teaching the children of God. There is the secret desire, often, to be accorded a place, with the corresponding grief when that place is refused and one’s ministry is unacknowledged. Baruch felt the personal slight, the setting at naught, the despising of his ministry—always so hard for a sensitive soul to bear if out of the presence of God. Therefore he fainted and could find no rest.

      But the Lord has been graciously considering his case and had for him a needed word, both of admonition and of comfort. When the times were so evil, it was an especially improper season for self seeking and personal ambition. God was about to bring the then present order of things to an end in judgment, as He will soon bring the age in which we live to a close by the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ and our gathering together unto Him. For Baruch it was no time to be troubled because he failed to gain the respect of a people who had so grievously departed from their God.

      But the Lord goes on to give His servant a watchword that may well be kept in mind by all who endeavor in any way to “contend for the faith” (Jude 3). “Do you seek great things for yourself? Seek them not.” This is a good motto for each of us. How apt is the heart to crave “great things”; but in doing so, how unlike the servant becomes to the Master who “pleased not Himself (Rom. 15:3), but could say, “I do always those things that please Him (John 8:29) and “I came not to do My own will, but the will of Him who sent Me” (John 5:30). Does not the position He took when down here determine our only proper one? Do we desire a place where He had none? Far better to be poor and despised here and have His approval than to seek great things for ourselves and lose His smile of approval!

      If tempted to turn aside from the narrow path of subjection to the truth for an easier path, or to be better thought of in a world like this, let us remember these words to Baruch; if “great things” attract and would lure us on, remember the words, “seek them not.”

      (From Milk and Honey, Vol. 21; published by Spread the Word, Inc., Dover, PA.)

  Author: H. A. Ironside         Publication: Issue WOT52-4

What Is Self-Denial?

“Let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily and follow Me” (Luke 9:23).

      The ordinary thought of self-denial, whether among saints or the people of the world, is giving up. There may be many different ideas as to what is to be given up. Some would limit it to certain worldly things such as card-playing, dancing, or the theater [or, nowadays, television, videos, computer games, or Internet surfing]. Others would confine it to a certain season during which time pleasures that are freely indulged in the remainder of the year are rigidly avoided. This, that, and the other is to be given up, as deemed to be pleasing to the natural man. However, it is possible that this may tend to foster spiritual pride, for does not one deserve credit for relinquishing so much?

      But is this the thought of the passage, “Let him deny himself”? Self is to be refused, to be given up. A man may give up anything, and well-nigh everything, but so long as he holds fast to himself, he has not learned the first elements of self-denial. “I am crucified with Christ,” says the apostle. Did he mean that he was doing this or that distasteful thing, and so practicing self-denial? Ah no! Paul himself was denied; he was done with himself, and now it was Christ who lived in him. Can we think of Paul as occupied with a multiplicity of questions as to whether he had to give up one thing and another? The cross settled all that for him. There was an end to himself, as well as an end to the world, so far as he was concerned. And with this went the entire mass of questions that monasticism has tried in vain to settle.

      Does not this explain the taking up the cross, which comes in the immediate connection? Let him “take up his cross daily and follow Me.” The ordinary thought of taking the cross is doing something that is disagreeable. So people talk even of prayer and public confession of Christ as taking up the cross. But to the disciples the cross meant something very definite. They looked upon it as the sign of death, and death at the hands of the Romans. In modern language, we might substitute the word gallows [or electric chair] for the cross. The ignominy, judgment, and reproach of a shameful death go with it. To follow Christ, to take up the cross, then, means something more than doing a few distasteful duties. It means an end of self. Reckoning ourselves to be dead indeed to sin.

      But beloved, what relief we have here, what rest of soul. The root is cut and soon the fading leaves of human pride will drop off. Does the world persecute? does it threaten with the cross? It can have no terrors for one who knows the preciousness of the cross in his own soul. He has already taken it up, applied it, not to a few details; and in the end of himself, he has reached the end of struggling. The whole thing has gone, he is alive now in Christ Jesus, and can walk in the newness of life that goes with it. Now he will find power for laying aside every weight, and instead of a path of sorrow, he has one of unutterable peace and joy—the path of the cross, which ends in the cloudless glory of God.

            (From Help and Food, Vol. 18.)

  Author: Samuel Ridout         Publication: Issue WOT52-4

Job and His Friends

The book of Job occupies a very peculiar place in the volume of God. It possesses a character entirely its own, and teaches lessons that are not to be learned in any other section of inspiration.

 

Job’s Perfection and Prominence

      The opening page of this remarkable book furnishes us with a view of the patriarch Job, surrounded by everything that could make the world agreeable to him and make him of importance in the world. “There was a man in the land of Uz, whose name was Job; and that man was perfect and upright, and one who feared God, and eschewed evil” (Job 1:1). Thus much as to what he was. Let us now see what he had.

      “And there were born unto him seven sons and three daughters. His substance also was 7,000 sheep, 3,000 camels, 500 yoke of oxen, and 500 she asses, and a very great household; so that this man was the greatest of all the children of the east. And his sons went and feasted in their houses … and called for their three sisters to eat and to drink with them” (1:2-4). Then, to complete the picture, we have the record of what he did.

      “And it was so, when the days of their feasting were gone about, that Job sent and sanctified them, and rose up early in the morning, and offered burnt offerings according to the number of them all, for Job said, It may be that my sons have sinned and cursed God in their hearts. Thus did Job continually” (1:5).

      Here, then, we have a very rare specimen of a man. He was perfect, upright, God-fearing, and avoided evil. Moreover, the hand of God had hedged him round about on every side, and showered his path with richest mercies. He had all that heart could wish—children and wealth in abundance and honor and distinction from all around.

 

Job’s Need for Testing

      But Job needed to be tested. There was a deep moral root in his heart that had to be laid bare. There was self-righteousness that had to be brought to the surface and judged. Indeed, we may discern this root in the very words that we have just quoted. He says, “It may be that my sons have sinned.” He does not seem to contemplate the possibility of sinning himself. A soul really self-judged would think of his own sins and his own need of a burnt offering.

      Let the reader understand that Job was a real saint of God, a divinely quickened soul, a possessor of eternal life. He was just as truly a man of God in the first chapter as he was in the 42nd. Chapter 1:8 establishes this point beyond all question:“And the LORD said unto Satan, Have you considered my servant Job, that there is none like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one who fears God and eschews evil?”

      But with all this, Job had never sounded the depths of his own heart. He had never really grasped the truth of his own utter ruin and total depravity. He had never learned to say, “I know that in me, that is in my flesh, dwells no good thing” (Rom. 7:18). This point must be seized or the book of Job will not be understood. We will not see the specific object of all those deep and painful exercises through which Job was called to pass unless we lay hold of the solemn fact that he had never measured himself by a divine standard.

      If we read chapter 29 through 30:1, we will find a striking proof of what we assert. We see distinctly what a strong and deep root of self-complacency there was in the heart of this dear servant of God. In this chapter we look in vain for any breathings of a broken and a contrite spirit. In the course of this single chapter, Job refers to himself more than 40 times, while the references to God are but five.

      Job had to be stripped of all this. When we compare chapter 29 with chapter 30 we can form some idea of how painful the process of stripping must have been. There is peculiar emphasis in the words, “But now.” Job draws a most striking contrast between his past and his present. In chapter 30 he is still occupied with himself, but how changed! The very men who flattered him in the day of his prosperity treat him with contempt in the day of his adversity. Thus it is ever in this poor, false, deceitful world—the fickleness of those who are ready to cry out “hosanna” today and “crucify Him” tomorrow.

      Thus it was with Job in chapter 30. But let it be remembered that there is very much more needed than the stripping of self and the discovery of the hollowness and deceitfulness of the world. One may go through all these and the result be merely disappointment. Indeed it can be nothing more if God be not reached. If the heart has not been brought to find its all-satisfying portion in God, then a reverse of fortune leaves it desolate and the discovery of the fickleness and hollowness of men fills it with bitterness. This will account for Job’s language in chapter 30:“But now those who are younger than I have one in derision, whose fathers I would have disdained to have set with the dogs of my flock.” Was this the spirit of Christ? Would Job have spoken thus at the close of the book? He would not. Ah, no, reader; when once Job got into God’s presence, there was an end to the egotism of chapter 29 and the bitterness of chapter 30.

 

Contrasts between Job and

the Lord Jesus

      All this is very far short of the mark. Lamentations over departed greatness and bitter invectives against our fellow-men will not do the heart much good; neither do they display anything of the spirit and mind of Christ, nor bring glory to His holy name. When we turn our eyes toward the blessed Lord Jesus we see something wholly different. For example, in Matthew 9:24, the people gathered at Jairus’s house “laughed [Jesus] to scorn” when He told them the daughter of Jairus was not dead but sleeping. The Lord Jesus ignored their scorn and proceeded with the business of raising the girl. In Matthew 12:14-16, when the Pharisees gathered to consider how they might destroy Him, the Lord Jesus was neither paralyzed by fear nor overcome by rage, but quietly withdrew and continued His ministry. In Luke 7:36-50, Simon the Pharisee did not extend to the Lord Jesus the usual courtesies shown a guest, but the Lord Jesus said nothing about it until Simon mentally criticized the Lord Jesus for allowing the sinful woman to touch Him. In John 8:41-54, the Pharisees insulted Jesus by implying He was illegitimate (verse 41), insane (had a demon) (verse 48), and a Samaritan (that is, racially impure and an enemy of Israel, verse 48). The Lord Jesus did not return insults, but continued His attempt to convict their consciences. And most astonishing, His response to all the physical and verbal abuse and contempt displayed toward Him during His arrest, trials, and crucifixion was, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34).

      The fairest and best of men must retire into the shade when tested by the perfect standard of the life of Christ. The light of His moral glory makes manifest the defects and blemishes of even the most perfect of the sons of men. He stands out in vivid contrast with Job in the matter of patient submission to all that He was called upon to endure.

      “After this opened Job his mouth and cursed his day. And Job spoke and said, Let the day perish wherein I was born, and the night in which it was said, There is a man child conceived” (3:1-3; note similar words uttered by the prophet Jeremiah, Jer. 20:14-18). What language do we find here! It contrasts strongly with the meek and lowly Jesus of Nazareth. That spotless One passed through deeper sorrows and more in number than all His servants put together, but not one murmuring word ever escaped His lips. He met the darkest hour with such words as these:“The cup that My Father has given Me, shall I not drink it?” (John 18:11). Blessed Lord Jesus, Son of the Father, we adore Thee! We bow down at Thy feet, lost in wonder, love, and praise, and own Thee Lord of all, “the chiefest among ten thousand” and the One who is “altogether lovely” (Cant. 5:10-16).

      Surely the study of the history of God’s dealings with souls is a most fruitful one. One grand object in those dealings is to produce real brokenness and humility—to strip us of all false righteousness, empty us of all self-confidence, and teach us to lean wholly upon Christ. With some this process precedes, with others it follows, conversion or the new birth. God loves us too well to leave us unsubdued; hence it is that He sees fit to pass us through all sorts of exercises in order to bring us into a condition of soul in which He can use us for His own glory. God will make use of our circumstances and the people with whom we are associated to discipline the heart and subdue the will.

      All this comes out with great distinctness in the book of Job. It is very evident that Job needed a severe sifting. Had he not needed it, we may rest assured the gracious, loving Lord would not have passed him through it. It was not for nothing that He let Satan loose upon His dear servant. God loved Job with a wise and faithful love, a love that could look below the surface and could see the deep moral roots in the heart of His servant—roots that Job had never seen nor judged. What a mercy to be in the hands of One who will spare no pains in order to subdue everything in us that is contrary to Himself, and to bring out in us His own blessed image!

 

Satan’s Hand upon Job

      Satan has no power whatever over a soul who abides in the place of dependence and obedience; he cannot go one hair’s breadth beyond the limit prescribed by divine command. Thus, in Job’s case, “The LORD said unto Satan, Behold, all that he has is in your power; only upon himself put not forth your hand” (1:12).

      Satan was permitted to lay his hand on Job’s possessions—to bereave him of his children, and despoil him of all his wealth. With marvelous rapidity he executed his commission. Blow after blow fell, in quick succession, on the devoted head of the patriarch. Hardly had one messenger told his melancholy tale, before another arrived with still heavier tidings, until, at length, the afflicted servant of God “arose and rent his mantle, and shaved his head, and fell down upon the ground, and worshiped, and said, Naked came I out of my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return thither:the LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD. In all this Job sinned not, nor charged God foolishly” (1:20-22).

      All this is deeply touching. To speak after the manner of men, it was enough to make reason totter to be thus, in a moment, bereft of his ten children and reduced from princely wealth to absolute penury. For what purpose was all this? For the deep and permanent profit of Job’s precious soul!

      But we must follow our patriarch into still deeper waters, as seen in chapter 2. Satan is allowed to make Job physically ill, but must spare his life (2:6). This is a very remarkable passage. It instructs us as to the place that Satan occupies in respect to God’s government. He is a mere instrument and, though ever ready to accuse the Lord’s people, can do nothing except as he is allowed of God. So far as Job was concerned, the efforts of Satan proved abortive; having done his utmost he goes away and we hear nothing more of his actings. Job was enabled to hold fast his integrity. Had matters ended here, his patient endurance would only have strengthened the platform of his righteousness, and ministered to his self-complacency. “You have heard,” says James, “of the patience of Job.” And what then? “You have seen the end of the Lord, that the Lord is very pitiful and of tender mercy” (Jas. 5:11). Had it been simply a question of Job’s patience, it would have proved an additional ground of self-confidence, and thus “the end of the Lord” would not have been reached. Let it be ever remembered that the Lord’s pity and tender mercy can only be tasted by those who are truly penitent and broken-hearted. Now Job was not this, even when he lay amid the ashes. He was still the great man—as great in his misfortunes as he had been in his prosperity. His heart was still unreached. He was not yet prepared to cry out, “Behold, I am vile.” He had not yet learned to “abhor [him]self, and repent in dust and ashes” (42:6). We want the reader to get hold of this point, for it is the key to the entire book of Job. The divine object was to expose to Job’s view the depths of his own heart in order that he might learn to delight in the grace and mercy of God and not in his own goodness. Job was a true saint of God and all Satan’s accusations were flung back in his face; but, all the while, Job was unbroken material. God will not allow Satan to accuse us, but He will expose us to ourselves so that we may judge ourselves and learn to mistrust our own hearts and rest in the eternal stability of His grace.

      Thus far, then, we see Job holding fast his integrity. He meets with calmness all the heavy afflictions that Satan is allowed to bring upon him and, moreover, he refuses the foolish counsel of his wife. He accepts all as from the hand of God, and bows his head in the presence of His mysterious dispensations.

 

Job and His Three Friends

      All this is well. But the arrival of Job’s three friends produces a marked change. Their very presence—the bare fact of their being eye-witnesses of his trouble—affects him in a very remarkable manner. “Now when Job’s three friends heard of all this evil that was come upon him, they came every one from his own place—Eliphaz the Temanite, and Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite—for they had made an appointment together to come to mourn with him and to comfort him. When they lifted up their eyes afar off and knew him not, they lifted up their voices and wept; they rent every one his mantle and sprinkled dust upon their heads toward heaven. So they sat down with him upon the ground seven days and seven nights, and none spake a word unto him:for they saw that his grief was very great” (2:11-13).

      Now, we can fully believe that those three men were governed, in the main, by kindly feelings toward Job; it was no small sacrifice on their part to leave their homes and come to condole with their bereaved and afflicted friend. But it is very evident that their presence had the effect of stirring up feelings and thoughts in his heart and mind that had hitherto lain dormant. He had borne submissively the loss of children, property, and of bodily health; Satan had been dismissed and Job’s wife’s counsel rejected; but the presence of his friends caused Job to break down completely. “After this Job opened his mouth and cursed his day” (3:1).

      This is very remarkable. It does not appear that the friends had spoken a single sentence. They sat in total silence, with rent garments and covered with dust, gazing on a grief too profound for them to reach. It was Job himself who first broke silence, and the whole of the third chapter is an outpouring of the most bitter lamentation, affording unhappy evidence of an unsubdued spirit. It is, we may confidently assert, impossible that any one who had learned, in any little measure, to say “Thy will be done,” could ever curse his day or use the language contained in the third chapter of Job. It may, doubtless, be said, “It is easy for those to speak who have never been called to endure Job’s heavy trials.” This is quite true, and it may further be added that no other person would have done one whit better under the circumstances. All this we can fully understand; but it in no way touches the great moral of the book of Job, that Job needed to have the roots of his moral being laid bare in his own sight so that he might really abhor himself and repent in dust and ashes. Furthermore, he needed a truer and deeper sense of what God was so that he might trust Him and justify Him under all circumstances.

      We look in vain for any of this in Job’s opening address. “Job spoke and said, Let the day perish wherein I was born, and the night in which it was said, There is a man child conceived…. Why died I not from the womb?” (3:3,11).

 

Eliphaz—Experience

      Eliphaz was the first of Job’s friends to speak. He belonged to that class of people who argue very much from their own experience. His motto was, “As I have seen” (4:8).  Now, what we have seen may be all true enough, so far as we are concerned. But it is a total mistake to found a general rule upon individual experience, and yet it is a mistake to which thousands are prone. Eliphaz’s experience went for nothing in Job’s case, for no sooner had Eliphaz ceased speaking than, without the slightest attention to his words, Job proceeded with the tale of his own sorrows, intermingled with much self-vindication and bitter complaints against the divine dealings (chapters 6 and 7).

 

Bildad—Tradition

      Bildad is the next speaker. He takes quite different ground from that occupied by Eliphaz. He never once refers to his own experience, or to what had come under his own observation. Rather, he appeals to antiquity. “Inquire, I pray thee, of the former age, and prepare yourself to the search of their fathers. (For we are but of yesterday, and know nothing, because our days upon earth are a shadow.) Shall not they teach thee and tell thee and utter words out of their heart?” (8:8-10). It must be admitted that Bildad conducts us into a much wider field than that of Eliphaz. The authority of a number of “fathers” has much more weight and respectability than the experience of a single individual. But the fact is that neither experience nor tradition will do. Tradition is a mass of confusion, for one father differs from another. Hence, as might be expected, Bildad’s words had no more weight with Job than those of Eliphaz. The one was as far from the truth as the other.

 

Zophar—Legality

      Let us now notice the opening address of Zophar the Naamathite. He says, “Oh that God would speak and open His lips against you, and that He would show you the secrets of wisdom, that they are double to that which is! Know therefore that God exacts of you less than your iniquity deserves.” And again:“If you prepare your heart and stretch out your hands toward Him, if iniquity be in your hand, put it far away, and let not wickedness dwell in your tabernacles. For then will you lift up your face without spot; yes, you will be steadfast, and will not fear” (11:5,6,13-15).

      These words savor strongly of legality. They prove very distinctly that Zophar had no right sense of the divine character. He did not know God. No one possessing a true knowledge of God could speak of Him as opening His lips against a poor afflicted sinner, or as exacting anything from a needy, helpless creature. God is not against us, but for us, blessed forever be His Name! He is not a legal exacter, but a liberal giver. Then again, Zophar says, “If you prepare your heart.” But if not, what then? No doubt a man ought to prepare his heart, and if he were right he would. But then he is not right, and hence, when he sets about preparing his heart, he finds nothing there but evil. He finds himself perfectly powerless. What is he to do? Zophar cannot tell. No, nor can any of his school. How can they? They only know God as a stern exacter—as One who, if He opens His lips, can only speak against the sinner.

      Need we marvel, therefore, that Zophar was as far from convincing Job as either of his two companions? They were all wrong. Experience, tradition, and legality were alike defective, one-sided, false. Not any one of them, or all of them put together, could meet Job’s case. They only darkened counsel by words without knowledge. Not one of the three friends understood Job; what is more, they did not know God’s character or His object in dealing with His dear servant. They knew not how to present God to Job, and as a consequence, they knew not how to lead Job’s conscience into the presence of God. In place of leading him to self-judgment, they only ministered to a spirit of self-vindication. They did not introduce God into the scene. They said some true things, but they had not the truth. They brought in experience, tradition, legality, but not the truth.

      The more closely we study the lengthened discussion between Job and his three friends, the more clearly we must see the utter impossibility of their ever coming to an understanding. He was bent upon vindicating himself and they were bent upon the very reverse. He was unbroken and unsubdued, and their mistaken course of treatment only tended to render him more so. There was no point of contact whatever—no common ground of understanding. In a word, there was a demand for another kind of ministry altogether, and that ministry is introduced in the person of Elihu.

 

Elihu—God-Centered

      “So these three men ceased to answer Job because he was righteous in his own eyes. Then was kindled the wrath of Elihu, the son of Barachel the Buzite, of the kindred of Ram:against Job was his wrath kindled because he justified himself rather than God. Also against his three friends was his wrath kindled because they had found no answer, and yet had condemned Job” (32:l-3).

      Here Elihu, with remarkable force and clearness, seizes upon the very root of the matter on each side. He condenses, in two brief sentences, the whole of the elaborate discussion contained in 29 chapters. Job justified himself instead of justifying God, and they had condemned Job instead of leading him to condemn himself.

      There is something peculiarly marked and striking in the ministry of Elihu. He stands in vivid contrast with the three friends. His name signifies “God is he” and, no doubt, we may view him as a type of our Lord Jesus Christ. He brings God into the scene and puts a complete stop to the weary strife and contention between Job and his friends. Elihu argues not on the ground of experience, tradition, or legality; he brings in God. This is the only way of putting a stop to controversy. Let us listen to the words of this remarkable personage.

      “And Elihu, the son of Barachel the Buzite, answered and said, I am young, and you are very old; wherefore I was afraid and dared not show my opinion. I said, days should speak and multitude of years should teach wisdom. But there is a spirit in man, and the inspiration of the Almighty gives them understanding” (32:6-8). Here divine light, the light of inspiration, begins to stream in upon the scene, and to roll away the thick clouds of dust raised by the strife of tongues. We are conscious of moral power and weight the very moment this blessed servant opens his lips. We feel we are listening to a man who speaks as the oracles of God—a man who is sensibly standing in the divine presence, who introduces us into “the inspiration of the Almighty.”

      This introduces another element altogether. The moment the Spirt of God enters the scene, it ceases to be a question of youth or old age, inasmuch as He can speak by old or young. “Not by might or by power, but by my Spirit, says the LORD of hosts” (Zech. 4:6). This holds good always. It was true for the patriarchs, true for the prophets, true for apostles, true for us, true for all. Here lay the deep secret of Elihu’s quiet power. He was filled with the Spirit, and hence we forget his youth while listening to the words of spiritual weight and heavenly wisdom that proceed out of his mouth. We are reminded of Him who spoke “as one having authority, and not as the scribes” (Matt. 7:29). There is a striking difference between a man who speaks as an oracle of God and one who speaks in mere official routine, between one who speaks from the heart by the Spirit’s holy anointing and one who speaks from the intellect by human authority. Who can duly estimate the difference between these two? None but those who possess and exercise the mind of Christ.

 

Elihu—Grace and Truth

      In studying the ministry of Elihu, we find in it two grand elements, namely, “grace” and “truth.” Both of these were essential in dealing with Job; consequently, we find both coming out with extraordinary power. Elihu tells Job and his friends that he does not know how to give flattering titles unto man. Here the voice of “truth” falls, with great clearness, on the ear. Truth puts every one in his right place, and because it does so, it cannot bestow titles of flattery upon a poor guilty mortal, however much that mortal might be gratified by them. Elihu begins by telling Job the truth. He introduces God into the scene in His true character. This was just what the three friends had failed to do. No doubt they had referred to God, but their references were cloudy, distorted, and false.

      Not so Elihu. He pursues a totally different line of things. He brings the light of “truth” to bear upon Job’s conscience, and at the same time he administers the precious balm of “grace” to his heart. He says, “Wherefore, Job, I pray you, hear my speeches and hearken to all my words. Behold, now I have opened my mouth, my tongue has spoken in my mouth. My words shall be of the uprightness of my heart, and my lips shall utter knowledge clearly. The Spirit of God has made me, and the breath of the Almighty has given me life. If you can answer me, set your words in order before me, stand up. Behold, I am according to thy wish in God’s stead:I also am formed out of the clay. Behold, my terror shall not make you afraid, neither shall my hand be heavy upon you” (33:1-7). In these accents, the ministry of “grace” unfolds itself, sweetly and powerfully, to the heart of Job. In the ministry of the three friends there was a total absence of this most excellent ingredient. They showed themselves only too ready to bear down upon Job with a heavy hand. They were stern judges, severe censors, false interpreters. They looked on the crumbling ruins of his house and drew the harsh inference that the ruin was but the result of his bad behavior. They had wholly misunderstood the dealings of God. They had never seized the full moral force of that one weighty sentence, “The LORD tries the righteous” (Psa.11:5). There was neither “grace” nor “truth” in their ministry, and therefore they failed to convince Job. They condemned him without convincing him, whereas they ought to have convinced him and made him condemn himself.

      Here it is that Elihu stands out in vivid contrast. He tells Job the truth, but he lays no heavy hand upon him. Elihu has learned the mighty mysterious power of the “still small voice” (1 Ki. 19:12)—the soul-subduing, heart-melting virtue of grace. Job had given utterance to a quantity of false notions about himself, and those notions had sprouted from a root to which the sharp axe of “truth” had to be applied. “Surely,” says Elihu, “you have spoken in my hearing, and I have heard the voice of your words, saying, I am clean without transgression, I am innocent; neither is there iniquity in me” (33:8,9).

      What words for any poor sinful mortal to utter! Surely, though “the true light” in which we may walk had not shone on the soul of this patriarch, we may well marvel at such language. And yet, mark what follows. Although he was so clean, so innocent, so free from iniquity, he nevertheless says of God, “He finds occasions against me, he counts me for His enemy. He puts my feet in the stocks, He marks all my paths” (33:10,11). Here is a palpable discrepancy. How could a holy, just, and righteous Being count a pure and innocent man His enemy? Impossible. Either Job was self-deceived or God was unrighteous. Elihu, as the minister of truth, is not long in pronouncing a judgment, and telling us which is which. “Behold, in this you are not just:I will answer you that God is greater than man” (33:12). What a simple truth! And yet how little understood! If God is greater than man, then obviously He, and not man, must be the Judge of what is right.

      Now, it is when the heart bows under the weight of this great moral truth that we are in a fit attitude to understand the object of God’s dealings with us. Assuredly He must have the upper hand. Elihu goes on, “Why do you strive against Him? for He gives not account of any of His matters. For God speaks once, yea, twice, yet man perceives it not. In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falls upon men, in slumberings upon the bed; then He opens the ears of men, and seals their instruction, that He may withdraw man from his purpose, and hide pride from man. He keeps back his soul from the pit and his life from perishing by the sword” (33:13-18).

 

Job and the Character of God

      The real secret of all Job’s false reasoning is to be found in the fact that he did not understand the character of God nor the object of all His dealings. He did not see that God was trying him, that He was behind the scenes and using various agents for the accomplishment of His wise and gracious ends. God was trying Job in order that He might instruct him, withdraw him from his purpose, and hide pride from him. Had Job seized this grand point, it would have saved him a world of strife and contention. Instead of getting angry with people and things, he would have judged himself and bowed low before the Lord in meekness and brokenness and true contrition.

      This is immensely important for us all. We are all of us prone to forget the weighty fact that “God tries the righteous” (Psa. 11:5) and that “He withdraws not His eyes from the righteous” (Job 36:7). We are in His hands and under His eye continually. We are the objects of His deep, tender, and unchanging love; but we are also the subjects of His wise moral government. His dealings with us are varied. They are sometimes preventive, sometimes corrective, always instructive. We may be bent on some course of our own, the end of which would be moral ruin. He intervenes and withdraws us from our purpose. He interrupts many of our dreams and schemes on which our hearts were bent, and that would have proved to be certain destruction. “Lo, all these things works God oftentimes with man, to bring back his soul from the pit, to be enlightened with the light of the living” (33:29,30).

      How well if our patriarch had only seized the great fact that God was trying him for his ultimate good, that He was using circumstances, people, the Sabeans, and Satan himself as His instruments. How well if Job had learned that all his trials, losses, and sufferings were but God’s marvelous agency in bringing about His wise and gracious end. If Job had only fixed his thoughts upon the living God alone and accepted all from His loving hand, he would have more speedily reached the divine solution of all his difficulties.

      It is precisely here that we are all apt to break down. We get occupied with men and things; we view them in reference to ourselves. We do not walk with God through the circumstances, but rather we allow the circumstances to get power over us. Thus we lose the sense of His presence, the holy calmness of being in His loving hand and under His fatherly eye. We become fretful, impatient, irritable, fault-finding. We get far away from God, out of communion, judging every one except ourselves, until at length God takes us in hand, and by His own direct and powerful ministry, brings us back to Himself in true brokenness of heart and humbleness of mind. This is “the end of the Lord” (Jas. 5:11).

 

God’s Personal Dealings with Job

      When Elihu closes his ministry, God Himself begins to deal directly with the soul of His servant (chapters 38-41). He appeals to His works in creation as the display of a power and wisdom that ought assuredly to make Job feel his own littleness. The effect was threefold. It had reference to God, to himself, and to his friends—the very points on which he was so entirely astray. As to God, Elihu had declared Job’s mistake in the following words:“Job has spoken without knowledge, and his words were without wisdom. My desire is that Job may be tried unto the end, because of his answers for wicked men. For he adds rebellion unto his sin; he claps his hands among us, and multiplies his words against God…. Do you think this to be right, that you said, My righteousness is more than God’s?” (34:35-35:1). But mark the change. Hearken to the breathings of a truly repentant spirit, the brief yet comprehensive statement of a corrected judgment. “Then Job answered the LORD and said, I know that Thou canst do everything, and that no thought can be withheld from Thee. Who is he that hides counsel without knowledge? Therefore have I uttered that I understood not, things too wonderful for me, that I knew not…. I have heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees Thee” (42:1-5).

 

Job’s New Thoughts about

God and Himself

      Here, then, was the turning point. He comes to the realization that all his previous statements as to God and His ways were “words without knowledge” (38:2). What a confession! What a moment in a man’s history when he discovers that he has been all wrong! What a thorough breakdown! What profound humiliation! To get right thoughts about God is to begin to get right thoughts about everything. If I am wrong about God, I am wrong about myself, wrong about my fellows, wrong about all.

      Thus it was with Job. His new thoughts as to God were immediately connected with new thoughts of himself; hence we find that the elaborate self-vindication and the lengthened arguments in self-defense, are all laid aside. All is displaced by one short sentence of three words, “I am vile” (40:4). And what is to be done with this vile self? Talk about it? Be occupied with it? Make provision for it? No, “I abhor it” (42:6).

      This is the true moral ground for every one of us. Job took a long time to reach it, and so do we. Many of us imagine that we have reached the end of self when we have given a nominal assent to the doctrine of human depravity, or judged some of those sprouts that have appeared above the surface of our practical life. But alas, it is to be feared that very few of us indeed really know the full truth about ourselves. It is one thing to say “We are all vile” and quite another to feel, deep down in the heart, that “I am vile.” This latter can only be known and habitually realized in the immediate presence of God. The two things must ever go together, “My eye sees Thee, wherefore I abhor myself.” It is as the light of what God is shines in upon what I am, that I abhor myself. And then my self-abhorrence is a real thing. It will be seen in a life of self-abnegation and a humble spirit in the midst of the scene through which I am called to pass. It is of little use to profess very low thoughts of self while, at the same time, we are quick to resent any injury done to us, any fancied insult, slight, or disparagement. The true secret of a broken and contrite heart is to abide ever in the divine presence, and then we are able to carry ourselves right toward those with whom we have to do.

      Thus we find that when Job got right as to God and himself, he soon got right as to his friends, for he learned to pray for them. Yes, he could pray for the “miserable comforters” (16:2), the “physicians of no value” (13:4), the very men with whom he had so long, so stoutly, and so vehemently contended! “And the Lord turned the captivity of Job when he prayed for his friends” (42:10).

      This is morally beautiful. It is the rare and exquisite fruit of divine workmanship. Nothing can be more touching than to see Job’s three friends exchanging their experience, their tradition, and their legality for the precious “burnt offering,” and to see our dear patriarch exchanging his bitter invectives for the sweet prayer of love. The combatants are in the dust before God and in each other’s arms. The strife is ended and the war of words is closed. Instead, we have the tears of repentance, the sweet odor of the burnt offering, the embrace of love.

      What a happy scene! What remains? Only that the hand of God should lay the top-stone on the beauteous structure, so we read, “The LORD gave Job twice as much as he had before…. After this lived Job 140 years, and saw his sons, and his sons’ sons, even four generations. So Job died, being old and full of days” (42:10-17).

      (Condensed from Miscellaneous Writings, Vol. 1.)

  Author: C. H. Mackintosh         Publication: Issue WOT52-4

Why Do We Suffer?

      In chapters 38-41 of Job, God asks Job if he is more wise, powerful, or just than God. God is not required to give reasons for our suffering. He has promised that it will work out for our good (Rom. 8:18,28; 2 Cor. 4:17,18) and that someday we will know (1 Cor. 13:12).

      Nowhere in the Book of Job does God answer any of the questions that caused so much debate between Job and his friends. He simply answers the need of Job’s heart. Job’s knowledge of God before his trials was primarily second hand, “by the hearing of the ear.” After passing through the fire of adversity, he sees God more clearly and gains faith and courage to trust Him more.

      God does not put just any of His children through a Job-like experience. It was because of Job’s God-fearing lifestyle that God permitted him to be tested by Satan, in order that his love and devotion might run even deeper.

      Are you facing a severe test of your faith today? View it, not as a sign that God has left you, but as a token of His desire to deepen and strengthen your commitment to Him.

      (Adapted from The Daily Walk, published by the American Tract Society, 1977.)

  Author:  UNKNOWN         Publication: Issue WOT52-4

Humility and Dependence

Humility

      “Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart” (Matt 11:29).

      Pride is the greatest of all evils that beset us, and of all our enemies it is that which dies the slowest and hardest. God hates pride above all things because it gives to man the place that belongs to Him who is above, exalted over all. Pride intercepts communion with God and draws down His chastisement, for “God resists the proud” (1 Pet. 5:5).

      He who is lowest and lowliest will be most blessed. Often the soul, by seeking joy, cannot get it. This would not purify and bless it, and to bless, God must purify. When emptied of self and when seeking God we find joy.

      Shall I ever forget the humiliation of Christ? Never! never! through all eternity. I shall never forget His humiliation on earth. While seeing Him in glory animates the soul to run after Him, what feeds the soul is the bread come down. That produces a spirit that thinks of everything but itself. Go and study Him, and live by Him, and you will come out in His likeness, in all His grace and gentleness and loveliness. The Lord give us to be so occupied with Him who was so full of love, so full of lowliness, that we shall manifest the same.

      True humility does not so much consist in thinking badly of ourselves as in not thinking of ourselves at all. I am too bad to be worth thinking about. What I want is to forget myself and to look to God, who is worth all my thoughts. The only real humbleness and strength and blessing is to forget self in the presence and blessedness of God. May you be in yourself so broken down that you may find One who never breaks down.

      “Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 2:5). What was the mind that was in Jesus? It was always coming down. The more He humbled Himself, the more He was trampled on. He goes down till He can go no lower, down to the dust of death. Are you content to do this? Are you content to have the mind that was in Christ Jesus, content to be always trampled on?

Dependence

      “Without me you can do nothing” (John 15:5).

      When we are really weak God never leaves us; but when unconscious of our infirmities we have to learn them by experience. The whole thing for us is to achieve absolute dependence on infallible faithfulness and unwearied love to carry us through. Conscious weakness causes a saint not to dare to move without God. The very essence of the condition of a soul in a right state is conscious dependence. Let us delight in dependence—that a Person above us should minister to us and care for us.

      There is an easy way of going on in worldliness, and there is nothing more sad than the quiet comfortable Christian going on day by day apart from dependence on the Lord. We must always be in dependence or fall. In every detail of our lives there is no blessing but in dependence on God. The point for us is to rest in the arm of the Lord, whatever may be, and not run to get help elsewhere.

      We may be saying true things in prayer or in testimony, but if we are not realizing our dependence on the Lord we shall not have His strength in the battle. When victory does not tend to worship, we and God part company as soon as the victory is achieved. How sad to see victory often leading to mere joy instead of still greater dependence on and delight in God.

      One cannot do an instant without Him; how blessed it is to trust Him!

            (From Milk and Honey, Vol. 20.)

  Author: John Nelson Darby         Publication: Issue WOT52-4

Empty Vessels and Broken

When the vessel is quite empty,
Then the Spirit has full play,
And the Word of God has power
In the life, from day to day.

Oh, ’tis well that it is empty!
Yea, but this will not suffice,
For it also must be broken,
E’en to meet the foe’s device.

’Tis alone the broken vessel
That reveals the hidden light,
Gives us victory in the battle,
Puts the enemy to flight.

’Tis God’s hand alone that breaks it,
Though we take it painfully,
We can trust Him, for He loves us,
He has proved it perfectly.

All man’s empty, broken vessels
Are cast out upon the heap;
But, with God, they are His treasures,
Just the things He loves to keep.

(From Help and Food, Vol. 50.)

  Author: Helen McDowell         Publication: Issue WOT52-4