“My glory was fresh in me, and my bow was renewed in my hand.” –Job 29: 20.
“I shall be anointed with fresh oil.” –Psalm 92: 10.
The first text tells us of the renown of Job, and of the way in which the providence of God continued to maintain the glory of his estate, his bodily health, and his prosperity. He was for many days, months, years continuously prospered of God. Everything to which he set his hand succeeded. God had set a hedge about him and all that he had, so that none broke through to molest him. He grew richer, he grew more influential, he had more honor in the sight of his fellow-men each morning that he walked to the gate. In every way he was advanced from day to day, and that throughout a long stretch of years. His glory was fresh in him. He did not achieve a hasty fame and then suddenly become forgotten. He did not blaze out like a meteor and then vanish into darkness; but he seemed to be continually fresh, vigorous, strong, energetic, and successful. He says that his bow was renewed in his hand: whereas usually the bow loses its force by use, and is less able to shoot the arrow after a little while, and needs to lie still with a slack string, it was by no means so with him. He could send one arrow, and then another, and then another, and the bow seemed to gather strength by use. That is to say, he never seemed to be worn out in mind or body. Whatever he commenced was commenced with as great a freshness and zest as the last thing which he had accomplished, and that had been commenced with the same energy as the first enterprise of his youth. However, this did not last always, for Job in this chapter is telling us of something that used to be–something that was something the loss of which he very sorrowfully deplored–”my glory was fresh in me.” He found himself suddenly stripped of riches and of honor, and put last in the list instead of first, while his purposes and aims seemed all to miss their way, and he had no strength and no glory left in him. Now bad he reached the winter of his discontent, and those who aforetime did him homage became his assailants. So far as glory was concerned, he was forgotten as a dead man out of mind.
Now, brothers and sisters, this reads us a lesson that we put not our trust in the stability of earthly things. It is said of the world that God has founded it upon the floods. How, then, can we expect it to be substantial? Beneath you moon, continually changing, what can we discover that abideth the same? Where the very light of heaven is waxing and waning, what is there but mutability? Change is written upon the face of all things. If, then, you have built your nest on high, reckon not too surely that you shall die in your nest, for the axe may fell the tree, and bring it down at an untimely date. If your children are round about you in good health, make not too sure of them, for they may be carried to an early grave, and the parent may yet be childless. If hitherto you have been great in the esteem of men, think less than nothing of that, for the breath of popular applause is more fleeting than a vapor. It scarcely comes before it goes; and they who yesterday cried “Hosanna” in the streets at your coming may, ere tomorrow’s sun is set, be crying, “Crucify him! crucify him!” They did that to the Master: marvel not if they do it to the servants. This is the respect that makes all mortal things inconsiderable to a wise man: he scarce will put them among his treasures, for they melt ere they are fairly counted, like a coinage of ice. They are but as the counters that a child plays with, having only an imaginary value. The things which are seen are shadows: the things invisible are the only substances. Reckon, then, at their fit price this transient glory of wealth, health, or fame. Lay up treasure “where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt,” and seek for stability in other things than these. Get the feet of your joy upon the Rock of Ages, and reckon all else to be but sand at its very best.
David in the second text is talking, I think, about spiritual things, and he tells us with great joy that he should be anointed with fresh oil. He did not expect that his glory would depart, but he expected that it should be renewed. He did not reckon that the bow would lose its force in his hand, but that God would increase his strength from day to day. And if any of you here who are God’s people have any fears about the future as to your soul matters,–if you are alarmed with the fear that you will share the same lot which Job shared as to his temporal glory,–I would remind you that Job even in temporals received at last twice as much as he had in his psalmist days, and that God can turn his hand one way as well as another, and brighten your prospects as well as darken them. Prognosticate delight rather than despair. Even the lower springs, shall continue to flow tilt you are beyond the need of them. Just now it is about spiritual matters that I want to speak; and if you have a fear that you must necessarily decline in these, I would remind you of the words of David, “I shall be anointed with fresh oil,” and, yet further on, of his other words, “They shall still bring forth fruit in old age, to show that the Lord is upright.” Never fall into the notion that a spiritual falling off is inevitable,–there need he nothing of the kind; you may be fresh as the dew even unto the end.
The subject to-night will run in this way–First, the excellency of freshness: “My glory was fresh in me.” Secondly, the fear of ill-departure. And, thirdly, the hope of is continuance, which hope is greatly encouraged by the words of our text: “I shall be anointed with fresh oil.”
“This article originally appeared here at Bible Bulletin Board.”
