Job 4:13-17

In thoughts from the visions of the night.

The spectre’s question

Disguise it how we may, this is a ghost story.

I. Attempt to realise the spectre. Recollect that for every one of us spirit has clothed itself with shape and vesture, and that the basis of the whole world in which we live is spiritual. Look at some of the circumstances favourable to such a spectre.

1. It was produced by a likeness of moral state. It was a time of thought. The mind was wandering amazed, the labyrinthine way stretched out on every hand, the mind trod the dark pathways, I do not see that we are under any necessity to suppose a ghost, in the real, spectral, objective sense of that word. The thought of Eliphaz is of God. It was God who was “a trouble to him.” And shapeless terror, while it was a Very objective reality to him, need not be regarded as such by us. It was the answer to the voice of conscience within.

2. The fear anticipated the vision. Where man does not feel he wilt not fear; where he does not tear the spectre, he will usually see none, feel none, know none. But man, every man, is accessible to fear. We do not dwell so near to terror as our fathers. Yet what a riddle there is in fear! Until Adam fell, Adam had no conscience, because he was one, his whole nature was a religious sensation. It is different now. The conscience is not free, it would be free, but it is nailed. Conscience is moral fear--conscience is the surgery of the soul. Possibly, all men have not fears. How comes it that man knows what moral fear is? It comes from the forbidden. Our world is a house full of fears, because the fall has removed us into the night, away from God. This is the natural history of fear--of moral fear. What is this natural capacity of fear in me? Nervousness, you say! Nervousness, what is that? It is a term used to describe the fine sheathing of the soul; it is man’s capacity for mental and moral suffering.

II. From the spectre to the question. The ghost’s question touches very appropriately and comprehensively the whole topic also of the Book of Job. It is a message from the dead, or rather, a message from the solemn kingdom of spirits.

1. How large is the field of thought the message covers. It is the assertion of the purity and universality of Divine providence. It is a glance at the alleged injustice of God. Man stands whence he thinks he can behold flaws in the Divine government. Job and his friend had met together in the valley of contemplation in the kingdom of night; in Job it was an experience, in Eliphaz a mournful contemplation. The spectre’s question then was a reality. In the vision of the night the soul was shaken with the terror, and it is the overwhelming thought--God. God was only known as terror. What must the appearance of God be, if an apparition can startle so terribly? The spectator was crushed by the spectre, and by the question of the spectre. If thy thoughts transcend nature, not less assuredly does thy Maker transcend thee.

2. The question was directed to the delectability of man. Consider thyself, thy littleness, thy narrowness, the limited sphere of thy vision. And thou art presuming to find a flaw in the Divine purposes and arrangements.

3. Hitherto, the ghost only crushes; it was not the purpose of the spectre to do more. It asked of man the question which had its root only in the eternal and illimitable will. It referred all to God. But the message probably included the following chapter.

III. The ghost is asking his question still. “Shall mortal man be just with God?” The moral fear of man, his conscience, is his best assurance of God. Man’s ideas are the best proof that there is a God over him, higher than he is, infinite in goodness and wisdom. It is from God Himself man derives the terrors that scare him. God Himself has reflected His own being in the conscience within the soul. But then it is a wounded conscience, and needs healing. (E. Paxton Hood.)

The discourse of the apparition

The text was uttered by an individual for whom we cannot perhaps claim that he Spake by the Spirit of God. Eliphaz recounts a vision; he records words which were mysteriously brought to him amid the deep silence of the night. We use the wild and awful circumstances of this vision to give solemnity to the truth which is brought to our notice. “Shall mortal man be more just than God? Shall a man be more pure than his Maker?” We have the account of an apparition. A purely spiritual being, such as an angel, assumed a visible though indescribable form, and stood before Eliphaz in the stillness of the night. We see nothing in the statements of Scripture or the deductions of reason, from which to decide that there cannot be apparitions; that the invisible state may never communicate with the visible through the instrumentality of phantoms, strange and boding forms that are manifestly not of this earth. There may easily be a weak and fond credulity in regard of ghosts and apparitions; but there may be also a cold and hard scepticism. The Bible, so far from discountenancing the notion of apparitions, may be said to give it the weight of its testimony, and that too, in more than one instance. Of this one thing may we be fully persuaded, that it would not be on any trivial or ordinary occasion that God drew aside the veil, and commissioned spiritual beings to appear upon earth. So terrible is the apparition in the text, that we naturally prepare ourselves for some very momentous communication. But the expectation does not appear to be answered. If there is an elementary truth, it surely is that man cannot be more just than God, nor more pure than his Maker. There is no debate that a pure theism was the creed of Job and his friends. What, then, are we to gather from the visit of the spectre? We wish you to contrast the solemnity and awfulness of the agency employed with the simplicity and commonness of the message delivered. But is there not often needed some such instrumentality as that of the spectre to persuade even ourselves that mortal man is neither more just nor more pure than his Maker? The vision was probably granted, and certainly used to oppose an infidelity more or less secret,--an infidelity which, fostered by the troubles and discrepancies of human estate, took the Divine attributes as its subject, and either limited or denied them altogether. Is there no such infidelity among ourselves? We are persuaded that, if you will search your own hearts, you will find that you often give it some measure of entertainment. We are persuaded of this in regard both of God’s general dealings and of His individual or personal. (Henry Melvill, B. D.)

The spectre

It was midnight. All without was hushed and still. No breeze stirred the foliage of the trees. No bird broke the silence with its song. Deep sleep had fallen on man. Eliphaz, the friend of Job, was musing in solitude, either about former visions that he had received, or about some of those grave questions which have in all ages perplexed the minds of thoughtful men. He had evidently had glimpses of the unseen--strange hints and whispers, the full meaning of which he could not grasp. And these had been followed by disturbed and anxious thoughts. His whole frame was trembling and agitated. His spirit was possessed with that vague premonitory awe which precedes the approach of something unusual and unknown. And Eliphaz was not anticipating such communications. But he was alone; and his mind was evidently in a state of bewilderment, groping its way to find a light. He was in a fit condition to receive ghostly impressions timorous, restless, anxious, shivering, brooding over mysteries--a condition favourable to the creation of weird shapes and forms. At this solemn hour, whilst thus musing, lo! a spirit passed before him, and then stood still. He could not discern its form clearly. Either he was too frightened to observe it closely, or the darkness was too dense, or the shape of the spirit was not sharply defined. He was so frightened that not only his limbs shook, but even his hair stood on end; and amid the stillness that reigned around, a voice was heard, saying, “Shall mortal man be more just than God? Shall a man be more pure than his Maker?” Was it a dream, or a reality? Opinion is divided on this subject. Some think that Eliphaz was wrapped in slumber like those around him; others, that while they slept he was awake. But it is quite possible that the spectre, though not a mere creation of a disordered brain, was visible only to the mind of Eliphaz. It partook somewhat of the character of a dream vision, though it seems to have affected his bodily frame. The spectre was the medium through which God conveyed to him solemn and important truths. It was God’s answer to man’s perplexities; and though it first startled, it finally allayed his anxieties and fears. The description is a master stroke, and was evidently written by one who saw what he described. The spirit first gliding by; then pausing, as if to arrest attention; the terror it awakened; the solemn, breathless silence; the obscurity in which it was veiled; and then the gentle voice, with its calming, soothing influence; all indicate that the writer is narrating his own experience. When the spectre appeared to Eliphaz we do not know. It may have been a considerable time before he spoke of it to Job; but he referred to it in his address to the patriarch, because of its supposed applicability to his theory that Job’s sufferings were the result of sin. At the present day men often see, in the declarations of God’s Word, only so much as can be made to fit in with their preconceived opinions; and if Eliphaz spoke about matters that were too high for him, if the words of the spectre, which he regarded as supporting his argument, rather operated against it, does not this fact go to prove that the vision was not a mere invention of his own, but a direct message from the Almighty? Let us turn, however, from Eliphaz and his opinions, and consider what the spectre said to him: “Shall mortal man be more just than God? Shall a man be more pure than his Maker?” This was his first utterance, and it contains the germ of all that follows. It declares the rectitude of God. At first such a question as this seems superfluous. Who would think of suggesting that man was purer than his Maker? Who would set up a claim to deal out justice with more regularity and fidelity than He? And yet those who criticise God’s dealings with men do virtually set themselves up as His superiors. They would have kept out sin, and prevented the inroads of suffering and sorrow. They would have made men happy all round, and ordained gladness and prosperity from one end of the year to the other. Such are the boasts of self-confident men; and it is in reply to such, apparently, that the spectre utters this solemn appeal. There are few of us, probably, who have not at some time or other passed judgment upon God. How much there is that is mysterious! How much that seems to baffle the skill of the wisest interpreter! We have traversed the same ground as Eliphaz, and have been as perplexed and bewildered as he. How inscrutable are God’s dealings with men! How terrible are the convulsions of nature! How disastrous are the conflicts of nations! How bitter are the sorrows of individual men! But these words will bear another rendering. “Is mortal (or feeble) man just from the side of God, namely, from God’s standpoint, or more briefly, before God? Is man pure before his Maker?” The rectitude of God is thus placed in contrast with the frailty of man. This fact, so humbling in itself, and so suggestive of man’s inability to do better than God, is brought out more fully in the verses that follow, which most commentators regard as a continuation of the spectre’s declaration. “Behold, He put no trust in His servants; and His angels He Charged with folly. How much less in them that dwell in houses of clay, whose foundation is in the dust, which are crushed before the moth!” First, the spectre draws a comparison between God and the angels, who are His servants. They are God’s servants, not His equals; His messengers, not His counsellors. There are some things which they do not understand; some things which they long desired to look into, but in vain. Some of the angels once fell from their first estate. It would not, therefore, seem to be an absolute impossibility for angels to sin. But God’s purity is the essence of His character. All His ways are just and true. And if God put no trust in His angels,--if they are imperfect compared with His infinite perfection,--how much more is this true of men, who may be described as dwelling in houses of clay, and who are crushed as easily as a moth. That is the argument; and surely it is calculated to restrain men from passing judgment upon the equity of God’s ways. Then are we qualified to sit in judgment on God? Could we govern the world better than He? Are we even capable of comprehending His plans and purposes? There are still many mysteries around us; and there are stiff many like Eliphaz, who have brooded over them in silence in the hour when deep sleep falleth upon men. We have thought, perhaps, of the departed, and wanted to know what they were doing. We have pondered the history of our past life,--so strange and chequered,--and asked why we were led, or,--it may be,--driven by circumstances, into the path that we have now to tread. We have caught ourselves drifting into speculations that might lead to dangerous results. We have even been tempted to let go the faith which we once held so dear. It is not fresh facts that are required, but clearer vision;--a disposition to accept that which has been revealed already, and act upon it; for (according to Christ’s own words) obedience is the way to knowledge. “If any man do the will of God, he shall know of the doctrine.” There was no written Word in the days of Eliphaz; no risen Christ; no Holy Spirit in the world to convince the understanding, and sanctify the heart. But it is otherwise now. God has spoken to us in terms far clearer and more explicit than those which He addressed, through the spectre, to the friend of Job. He has not proposed to us simply the question, “Shall mortal man be more just than God? Shall a man be purer than his Maker?” He has declared in the most emphatic terms, that He is just and holy; and that instead of dealing with men according to their sins, and rewarding them according to their iniquities, He is gentle and forbearing, even to the hardened and impenitent. He has done more. He has assured us that chastisement is a proof of love; that He inflicts it not for His pleasure, but for our profit, that we may be partakers of His holiness. We have no right to expect that God will explain or justify all His actions. Where, then, would there be room for the exercise of faith? We could not question a spectre, probably, if he were to appear. Most likely he would only terrify and alarm us. But we can turn again and again to the written Word. But God has given us more than the written Word. He sent His Son into the world--“the brightness of the Father’s glory and the express image of His person,” and through Him we have obtained more light upon the character of God and His relations to men than any spectre could ever have given us. He came from the world of spirits. Eliphaz was afraid of the spectre. And we, probably, should be quite as frightened if a spectre were to appear to us. But there is something more terrible than a spectre. It is the sight of an offended God. When Adam sinned he hid himself among the trees of the garden, for he was afraid to meet God. And so will it be at last with every unpardoned sinner. He may hide himself in the dens and in the rocks of the mountains; he may call upon the rocks to fall on him and hide him from the face of Him that sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb. But it will be of no avail. Eliphaz trembled at the sight of the spectre. But there is something more appalling still; it is the sight of the ghosts of unforgiven sins. (F. J. Austin.)

Super sensuous phenomena

Physical science has established the remarkable fact that there may be, and in all probability are, phenomena which cannot be perceived by our senses. There are sounds which a trained ear can distinguish, which altogether escape an ordinary ear. There are musical variations which are detected by the practised ear of a skilled composer which altogether escape an uncultured listener. Sound vibrations of more than 38,000 pulsations a second are inaudible by ordinary persons, but are heard and registered by persons sensitive to the highest notes. Moreover, there appears to be no reason for doubting that there may be sound vibrations all around us of such extreme rapidity that we cannot hear them. Pass from acoustics to optics. White light consists of a complete series of coloured rays which, when refracted through a triangular bar of glass, form a continuous spectrum, passing by imperceptible shades from dark red through yellow, green and blue, to very dark violet. Just the same colours are seen in the rainbow. Now, there are rays at each end of the spectrum which cannot be seen. At one end there are heat rays, and at the other end there are chemical (actinic) rays, which are unperceived by our senses, whose existence is attested by other delicate instruments. And physical science gives no reason to believe that we know the absolute limit of the spectrum at either end. The man, then, who says he will not believe anything but what he can see, or what comes within the observation of his senses, limits his belief very considerably, and ignores a great deal that exists in the universe. (T. T. Waterman.)