The Days of Our Appointed Time
"All the days of my appointed time will I wait till my change come." (Job 14:14)
This book relates the history of Job's sufferings. He was a tall cedar in grace, yet this cedar grew in a valley of tears. Religion gives no charter of exemption from trouble. Job's trials were so sharp that he began to grow weary of life and was willing to have a writ of ease, to take his leave and be gone: "Oh that thou wouldest hide me in the grave!" (Job 14:13). This holy man was much afflicted in his meditations on his latter end. He walked among the tombs, and walked into his grave before it was dug, laboring through frequent thoughts to make death familiar to him. "All the days of my appointed time will I wait till my change come."
The text is a large field. I shall only, as I pass along, pluck a few ears of grain.
In these words there are three general parts.
1. A description of life: All my days.
2. The determination of life: My appointed time.
3. A holy resolution: I will wait till my change come.
I begin with the first.
First, here is a description of life: All the days.
Doctrine. Job does not measure his life by years, but by days.
Indeed, he calls life a day in verse 6 of this chapter (Job 14:6). Man's life is compared to a day in three or four respects.
1. Life is like a day for its shortness. Men dream of a long life, as Augustine says. Men imagine something like an earthly eternity, but life is a short day. Infancy is daybreak; youth is sunrise; full growth is the sun at its meridian; old age is sunset; sickness is evening; and then comes the night of death. Life is a day. And if it is so short, only a day, why do we lose time rather than live it?
2. Life is like a day for its changes and vicissitudes. A day brings much alteration in weather: the morning shows clear and bright, but by noon black clouds and rain have gathered; one part of the day is calm and serene, the other blustering and windy. Such is our life. What changes of weather there are in a man's life! What sudden alterations fall out: sometimes health, sometimes sickness, sometimes prosperity, and sometimes adversity. Sometimes we see the white lily of peace; sometimes the red rose of bloody war appears. Here is change of weather.
3. Life is like a day for labor. The day is the time for working: "The sun riseth, and man goeth forth to his work" (Ps 104:23). Death is a sleeping time for the body; life is a working time. A Christian has no time to lie fallow: "Work out your salvation with fear and trembling" (Phil 2:12). "Work while it is day" (John 9:4). There is always some work to do, either some sin to mortify or some grace to exercise.
4. And lastly, once a day is past, you can never call that day back again. So when once this day of life is past and gone, you cannot recall it.
Application 1: Briefly, the thought that our lives are but a day may serve to cool the intemperate heat of our affections toward earthly things. We should not be much lifted up in the enjoyment of them, nor much cast down in the want of them. These comforts beneath the moon are not to be with us long, only a few days; indeed, it is but a day. Why then should we be too much taken with them? Our life is so transient, made up of a few flying minutes, that it should greatly reduce our affections to all things under the sun. I read of Abraham that he bought the possession of a burial place (Gen 49:30). The longest possession we have here on earth is the possession of a burial place. So much for the first particular: a description of life. It is not measured by years but by days; indeed, it is shorter still, only a day.
The second thing in the text is the determination of man's life, in these words: My appointed time; the days of my appointed time. The Hebrew word carries a double signification.
First, it signifies the days of my warfare, the days of my time of fighting. Hence, note this:
Doctrine. A Christian's life here on earth is nothing other than a warfare.
"That thou mayest war a good warfare" (1 Tim 1:18). It is not an easy life, a life of sloth and pleasure; it is a warfare, all the days of my warfare. A Christian's life is a warfare in three respects: in respect of hardship, of watchfulness, and of combat.
First, in respect of hardship. A soldier endures much hardship; he has no soft bed or dainty fare, but goes through many a tedious march. Such is a Christian's life: "Thou therefore endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ" (2 Tim 2:3). We must not be, as Tertullian says, silken Christians, but must expect to wrestle with difficulties.
Second, a Christian's life is a warfare in respect of watchfulness. We must stand sentinel and be ever on our guard. The soldier climbs into the watchtower and sends out scouts lest the enemy surprise him. It was Christ's watchword: "I say unto you all, Watch" (Mark 13:37). A subtle heart needs a watchful eye. Watch lest sin decoy you, lest Satan fall upon you when you are asleep at your post. When you have been praying against sin, you must then watch against temptation.
Third, a Christian's life is a warfare in respect of combat. We all come into the world as into a field of battle. We stand just as the Jews did: "Every one with one of his hands wrought in the work, and with the other hand held a weapon" (Neh 4:17). Such is our military posture, working and fighting. In preparation for this holy warfare we must get our spiritual armor ready, the breastplate of holiness, which can never be shot through. And having obtained this armor and the shield of faith, we must give battle to our spiritual enemies: "I have fought the good fight of faith" (2 Tim 4:7). Yes, and we must also maintain combat with the flesh, and with that enemy, Satan.
To encourage us in this warfare, consider two things.
First, we have a good captain in Jesus Christ. He is called the Captain of our salvation (Heb 2:10). Christ not only leads us in our march and gives us skill to fight, but he gives us strength as well. A captain may give his soldiers armor, but he cannot give them strength to fight. Christ does: "I will strengthen thee, yea, I will help thee" (Isa 41:10).
Second, to encourage us in this warfare against sin and Satan: having overcome our spiritual enemy, we shall receive a glorious reward. "Henceforth is laid up for me a crown of righteousness" (2 Tim 4:8). A crown is not fit for every head; it belongs only to princes, kings, and persons of renown. After our combat with sin and Satan, God will call us out of the field where the bullets of temptation flew so thick, and will give us a victorious crown. Then no more battle, but music, not the drum and the cannon, but the viol and the harp shall sound (Rev 14:2).
Application 2: Is life a warfare? How unworthy and blameworthy are they who have no spiritual artillery and make no stand against their spiritual enemies. They spend their time dressing themselves but do not put on their holy armor. "And rejoice in the sound of the organ" (Job 21:12). They spend their days in mirth, as if their lives were made for music rather than battle. I have read of one who would have no man's name written on his tomb except the man who died bravely in war. God writes no man's name in the Book of Life except those who die in this holy war, die in battle, fighting this good fight of faith.
Second, let us consider this word in the text in its other signification: The days of my appointed time. My appointed time. Hence, observe this:
Doctrine. God has fixed the exact time and period of every man's life.
"His days are determined; thou hast appointed his bounds that he cannot pass" (Job 14:5). God who numbers our hairs also numbers our days. He has set down in his decree how long our lives shall last, and we shall not live one hour or one minute beyond the appointed time. Therefore do not say, if such a circumstance had not occurred, such a friend would not have died so soon.
Objection: But does not Ecclesiastes say, "Be not overmuch wicked, why shouldest thou die before thy time?" (Eccl 7:17)?
Answer: There is a general time of life and a limited time of life. The general time concerns the ordinary course of nature; the limited time concerns God's decree of how long a particular person shall live. When a man dies young or by a violent death, he dies before his time in terms of the course of nature, but he does not die before the time God has fixed and appointed.
Application 1: The first application is to warn us all against adjourning and putting off our repentance. Our days are certain to God, but uncertain to us. The Lord knows how long our glass will be running; for all we know, only a few grains of sand remain. Life may expire in an instant: when our breath goes out, we do not know whether we shall draw it in again. It is true that Hezekiah had a lease sealed to him for fifteen years, but we have no such lease. We are tenants at will and may be turned out at any moment. Our span of life is known to God but not to us. Therefore beware of procrastinating. Death may be sent to any of you this very night with a habeas corpus: God may say, "Give an account of your stewardship."
Second, since the time of our life is appointed and the number of our days is set, this should teach us courage for God. Do not fear doing your duty: appearing for God, owning his cause in an idolatrous generation, vindicating God's truth in which his glory is so deeply concerned. The text says our time is appointed. Men may take away our liberty when they will, but they shall not touch a hair of our heads until God's time has come. This is what made our blessed Savior so zealous for his Father's honor and so sharp in his reproof against sin. Where did Christ's courage come from? "For his hour was not yet come" (John 8:20). Christ knew full well that all his enemies could not take his life until the time his Father had appointed. This should make us like Athanasius, that bulwark of the nation.
Third, the third thing in the text is Job's holy resolution: "I will wait till my change come," that is, I will wait until death comes.
Hence note this:
Doctrine. Death, whenever it comes, makes a great change.
First, the change death makes is a certain change. There is no avoiding it, for it is appointed to men once to die (Heb 9:27): "What man is he that liveth, and shall not see death?" (Ps 89:48). No strength, no courage, no worldly grandeur can exempt anyone from death. Death's sword cuts asunder the royal scepter. The godly must die as well as others. Though death does not destroy the treasure of grace, it breaks the vessel that holds that treasure. Pliny speaks of a golden vine not subject to storms. The body of a saint, when glorified, shall be like that golden vine, but now it is a withering vine soon blasted by death. We are not as sure of lying down in our beds as we are of lying down in our graves.
Second, the change death makes is a visible change. How strangely is the body transformed at death, so that one can scarcely recognize one's friends, so disfigured are they! The eyes hollow, the jaws fallen. Death carries away all the goodly spoil of beauty, changing a living body into a corpse: "Thou makest his beauty to consume away like a moth" (Ps 39:11). Take a body of the finest spinning, lily and purple, white and ruddy, once death, like a moth, gets into it, it consumes all the luster and glory. Death puts the body into so frightful a dress that nothing can fall in love with it but the worms.
Third, the change death makes is often a very sudden change. Death steals upon some unawares. I have read of one who was suddenly choked by the kernel of a grape. What quick dispatch several diseases make! Death often strikes without warning.
Fourth and last, the change death makes is an unalterable change. As the tree falls, so it lies, to eternity. Death is a change that puts us into an unchangeable condition.
Application 1: First, see what a different change death makes to the righteous and to the wicked. Both are changed at death, but the difference is vast.
First, death makes a dreadful change to the wicked: it is a trapdoor to let them down to hell. The wicked who live here in gallantry and splendor, clothed in purple and faring deliciously every day, when death comes, they will find a terrible alteration. Death will throw the wicked down from the top of the pinnacle of their honor. I allude to the words of Revelation: "The voice of harpers shall be heard no more at all in thee" (Rev 18:22).
There is a river in America that runs in the daytime but dries up in the night. So the pleasures that now run in a full current during this lifetime will, at the night of death, all be dried up. Nor will the ungodly only lose their sweet enjoyments; their souls must be steeped in the flames of hell, "where their worm dieth not" (Mark 9:44). Such a fire is kindled in God's anger that no tears can quench it and no time can end it. Under the Law, even a servant who had a hard master could look to the seventh year for a Jubilee, a year of release, when he might go free; but in hell there is no year of Jubilee: "Men shall seek death, and shall not find it" (Rev 9:6). If a spark of God's anger falling into a man's conscience causes such torture in this life, how terrible it will be to lie in the fire of God's wrath forever.
Death will indeed be a sad change for the unrighteous, and the very thought of death must be terrible to a wicked man.
Second, death will be a glorious change for all righteous persons. They shall have their fetters of sin knocked off and shall drink of the rivers of pleasure. What a blessed change: from a weary pilgrimage to a blessed paradise, from labor to eternal rest. In short, death to a child of God is a friend. Death is a pale horse to carry a believer home to his Father's house. Death gives full possession of glory. There is a freehold in law and there is a freehold in deed. A believer now has a freehold in law, meaning he has a right to heaven; but at death he has a freehold in deed: he enters and takes possession. Death pulls down this old building, this house of clay, and prepares for the soul a better house, a house not made with hands. What a blessed change for the righteous!
This may be a comfort in the death of Christian friends: whenever they are changed by death, they are sure to change for the better. They go instantly into a blessed eternity.
Application 2: The second application is one of exhortation. Death makes a certain change, a visible change, sometimes a sudden change, and an unalterable change. Let us all labor to be fitted for this great change. As Job says, it is a very sad thing to have the grave ready for us and ourselves not ready for the grave. When death surprises an unprepared soul, what a condition will he be in? He will cry, "O death, let me be excused one day more, one hour more, to prepare myself!" But death can neither be bribed nor courted.
Job cursed the day of his birth. Unprepared souls will curse the day of their death. Be fitted for this last end, and to that purpose labor for a holy change. Get grace into your souls: death cannot hurt grace. Grace is armor of proof that can never be shot through. Grace is as needful for the soul as oil is for the lamp. Christians, get holy hearts. Be as Christ's bride: get yourselves ready. Dress yourselves every day by the glass of God's Word. See your spots in that glass, and when you have seen them, wash them away with repenting tears. Adorn the hidden man of your heart with love, meekness, and holiness, and put on the Lord Jesus, which is your clothing of wrought gold. By having this holy change wrought in you, you will be fitted for your last and great change.
To conclude: you who are prepared, live in a continual expectation of this great change, as Job does in the text: "I will wait till my change come."
First, live in hope until this change comes.
Second, be patient until this change comes.
On the first: the word "I will wait" in the Hebrew means "I will hope till my change come." The farmer who has sowed his seed hopes for a crop. Having sowed the seed of true repentance, now hope for a full crop of glory at death.
On the second and last: "I will wait," says Job. In the Greek, this means "I will be patient till my change come." The troubles the righteous suffer here, and the great honor that awaits them in heaven, may tempt them to impatience at having to stay any longer. But take heed of this. We must not choose our own portion. God knows the best season in which to send for his children home. Therefore we must wait a little while, and then we shall enjoy our wish: the sweet embrace of Christ and rest in the bosom of divine love.
