September 12

Well, here is enough in every period, in every condition, in every circumstance, to embolden and animate us—if we can but lay hold of it. But what is all this without faith? Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief!

SEPTEMBER 12.—“O thou preserver of men.”—Job 7:20.

THE word may be rendered, and in some versions has been rendered, “O thou observer of men.” And it is a true and an awful reflection that “his eyes are upon the ways of men, and he seeth all their goings: there is no darkness nor shadow of death where the workers of iniquity may hide themselves.” He is an unerring observer; an observer whose glance nothing can escape; an observer who records all he witnesses, and records it with a view to exposure and trial: for God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good or whether it be evil.” It has been contended too, that the connection in which the term is found requires this translation: “I have sinned, what shall I do unto thee, O thou observer of men.” But in this, as in almost every other instance, we deem the present rendering preferable, and preferable even on account of the connection. Here is a penitential confession; but in all repentance, at least in all repentance that is unto life, a view of the goodness of God is necessary, both to excite hope, and to produce godly sorrow: and it is here seen and acknowledged: for “it is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not; they are new every morning”—

We need not endeavour to prove that man needs preservation. As he did not make himself, so he has no sufficiency of his own to sustain himself. If left to himself for a moment he would relapse into nothing. He lives and moves and has his being in God. He is constantly surrounded with dangers, yet he is not sensible of even one in a thousand of them, and he is unable to ward off those he apprehends. And who among his fellow-creatures is interested enough, wise enough, powerful enough, always near enough, patient enough, to watch over and secure him? But God is infinitely qualified for the office, and he graciously condescends to assume the character of “THE PRESERVER OF MEN”—Let us bring this home to ourselves.

Why died we not from the womb? Why dropped we not when babes from the hands of a heedless or unfortunate nurse, and, like Mephibosheth, become a cripple for life? Why fell we not a prey to the perils of infancy, childhood, and youth? How many victims of accident, of disease, and of mortality have we known? But we are the living to praise him as it is this day. And wherefore? Ebenezer! “Hitherto hath the Lord helped us.”

And if the Preserver demands gratitude for the past, he authorizes our confidence and comfort with regard to the future. Let us think of him under this endearing relation, and in all the uncertainties before us be encouraged—encouraged when we lie down, and have to pass through the darkness and dangers of the night-season—encouraged when we rise in the morning, and have to go

through the business and perils of the day—encouraged when we travel at the call of duty, or for the purpose of friendship or health: let us say, as we advance, “O Lord, thou preservest man and beast;” and as we return let us remember the promise, “Thou shalt know also that thy tabernacle is in peace, and thou shalt visit thy habitation and not sin” Yea, in all the parts and passages of that life, in the midst of which we are in death, and know not what a day or an hour will bring forth, let us strengthen and cheer ourselves with the persuasion that nothing can befall us by chance, that all our times are in his hand, and that we are immortal till our work is done. A sparrow falleth not to the ground without our heavenly Father; and the very hairs of our head are all numbered.

But the subject has a peculiar bearing upon Christians. For while he is the Saviour of all men, he is especially so of them that believe. A man takes more care of his jewels than of his common property; and is more concerned for the safety of his wife and children than of his cattle. God’s people are to him more than these images imply. Accordingly we are assured that he takes pleasure in them that fear him, in them that hope in his mercy. He keeps them as the apple of his eye. Lest any hurt them, says he, I will keep them night and day. This is the promise made to every Israelite indeed; “Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord is thy keeper: the Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand. The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul.” And the soul is the main thing. Now this is absolutely secured. Other things are only secured conditionally. The Christian may suffer from the strife of tongues, he may lose his substance, his health, and even his life—but he can never lose his soul. With regard to his eternal all, he can say, “I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed to him against that day.” Thus he is not afraid of evil tidings, for his heart is fixed, trusting in the Lord. My enemies are numberless and formidable, and I am as weak as I am exposed; but “the Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower. I will call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised: so shall I be saved from mine enemies.” Thus it is said, “They shall dwell safely in the wilderness, and sleep in the woods.” How lonely, dreary, terrifying the situations! But amidst the howlings of the wilderness, and the horrors of the woods, they shall dwell safely there, and sleep soundly there. So David, when Absalom had driven him from his palace, and he had few troops to support him in the field, garrisoned himself in God: “I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep: for thou, Lord, only makest me dwell in safety.”