Job 7:12

Am I a sea, or a whale, that Thou settest a watch over me?

Watch and ward

These words are part of that first great cry to heaven that broke from the stricken soul of Job. He seems to expostulate with the Almighty for treating him so harshly. He, a poor, weak, frail mortal, was being handled as firmly and as severely as though he was as boisterous and encroaching as an angry sea; as savage and as dangerous as a monster of the river or the deep. His heart and his flesh cry out against this. I am not going to upbraid Job for this. It is far more the groaning of the flesh than the insurrection of the soul. God knoweth our frame, He remembereth that we are dust. There are great lessons here, nevertheless. God exercises a direct control in the universe His hand hath made, and all things are under a law of restraint. Job himself was conscious of this restraining law. “Thou settest a watch over me.” Every individual has to bend to this superior will; is held in check by this unseen hand. No man can accomplish the full gratification of his desires, can work out the full execution of his plans. He is held back by the force of public sentiment; by the power of conscience; by lack of capacity; by the force of circumstance; and by the direct interposition of the will of God. Job’s words imply perplexity, doubt, question, and distress because of this restraint. You and I know his line of feeling and of thought very well, we fret and murmur within the chain that binds us, the fetters that restrain us, the ropes that hold us in. There are good reasons why man should be watched even more closely, reined in more firmly, than anything in the material universe beside. Man possesses a higher nature, and sustains a nearer relationship to God. He is the offspring of God. Man is the only being that has a capacity to break through the lawful boundaries and limits of his place and sphere. He can overleap the laws of moral being, and become a curse to himself and to his kind. He has even a tendency to deviate and rush across the true line of his being, the just and righteous limitations of his nature. Nothing but man in all nature has a tendency to get out of his place. And man is also the only creature capable of definite improvement under the control and superintendence of God. It is a grand thing then, a noble privilege, a gracious mercy that God sets a watch over us, puts us under special ward, and makes His providence so that all things shall work together for good. And our true wisdom lies in this, that we seek, and suffer, and yield ourselves to God’s wise and good control. If we will, His government of us shall be the law of love, the law of life. Self-will is our peril. To take our own course is, in the most serious sense, to take our own life. “Thy will be done.” That is the way of wisdom. Love holds the reins of government, and God is Guardian, Controller, Governor, and Guide. (Good Company.)

Man marked and watched

Certain men are not only plagued by conscience and dogged by fear, but the providence of God seems to have gone out against them. Just when the man had resolved to have a bout of drinking, he fell sick of a fever, and had to go to the hospital. He was going to a dance; but he became so weak that he had not a leg to stand upon. He was forced to toss to and fro on the bed, to quite another tune from that which pleases the ballroom. He had yellow fever and was long in pulling round. God watched him, and put the skid on him just as he meant to have a breakneck run downhill. The man gets better, and he says to himself, “I will have a good time now.” But then he is out of berth, and perhaps he cannot get a ship for months, and he is brought down to poverty. “Dear me!” he says, “everything goes against me. I am a marked man”; and so he is. Just when he thinks that he is going to have a fair wind, a tempest comes on and drives him out of his course, and he sees rocks ahead. After a while he thinks, “Now I am all right. Jack is himself again, and piping times have come.” A storm hurries up; the ship goes down, and he loses all but the clothes he has on his back. He is in a wretched plight: a shipwrecked mariner, far from home. God seems to pursue him, even as He did Jonah. He carries with him misfortune for others, and he might well cry, “Am I a sea, or a whale, that Thou settest a watch over me?” Nothing prospers. His tacklings are loosed; he cannot well strengthen his mast; his ship leaks; his sails are rent; his yards are snapped; and he cannot make it out. Other people seem to get on, though they are worse than he is. Time was when he used to be lucky too; but now he has parted company with success, and carries the black flag of distress. He is driven to and fro by contrary winds; he makes no headway; he is a miserable man, and would wish that the whole thing would go to the bottom, only he dreads a place which has no bottom, from which there is no escape, if once you sink into it. The providence of God runs hard against him, and thus he sees himself to be a watched man. (C. H. Spurgeon.)

Man magnified in view of God’s providence

This is an expression of wonder, petulance, and expostulation at the strangeness of God’s dealings. They seemed to Job unsuitable and disproportionate. Viewing himself as the object of them, he was amazed and disaffected at their character and scale. He deemed such an exertion of force, such a stretch of observation, such an expense of care and agency, unmeet, and wasted on so inconsiderable and impotent an object. Surely it is unnecessary and unbecoming condescension in Thee to stoop at such an expense of care and effort, to repress his designs and chastise his faults! Contempt and derision are alone suited to the case of such a puny creature. .. Man is treated by God as though he were a thing of magnitude, consequence, might, and value. The providence of God magnifies man, proves him to be an object of wonderful interest, concern, and solicitude to his Maker. Herein is a mystery. Why am I thus? Wherein does the value consist? None of His stupendous and potent creatures has cost Him, and yet does cost Him so much as poor, feeble, short-lived I, who, if blotted out of creation, would make a void too small to be felt or seen. But God measures values not by material volume, or physical efficiency, but by likeness to Himself, spiritual furniture, length of being. Then, since Thou hast made me thus, I marvel not that Thou dost care for me thus. I marvel not that by so many precautions, and by such frequent checks and corrections, Thou restrainest me from ruining so precious a substance, and filling with wretchedness so durable a being. The discovery of this invisible value may serve to explain the fact of God’s vigilance and jealousy over man, but it does not account for the methods in which they are exhibited. The character of God’s providence over man is well described in the phrase of Job, “Thou settest a watch over me,” which denotes constant distrust, observation, and vigilance, an attitude of suspicion and alarm. Can this be a true picture of the way in which the great God treats feeble man? I should expect more summary and decisive measures. Yet God saves man, as it were, by stratagem, with much painstaking and multiplied endeavours. Here a new phase of human greatness presents itself. Man is not only a spiritual and immortal creature, but a being of will, a voluntary agent, the arbiter of his own destiny. Liberty is a dangerous thing, involving fearful hazards. The control of a wise, good despot might be much safer. God can only “set a watch over me,” and eye me with affectionate solicitude. And surely He spares no expense to persuade me to choose aright, and impress me with a sense of my own importance, and of the vastness of the stake dependent on my choice. Then, brethren, esteem and treat yourselves as your God esteems and treats you. So respected and cared for by God, begin to respect and care for yourselves. (R. A. Hallam, D. D.)

“Am I a sea, or a whale?”

Job was in great pain when he thus bitterly complained.

I. I have, first, to say that some men seem to be specially tracked and watched by God. We hear of persons being “shadowed” by the police, and certain people feel as if they were shadowed by God; they are mysteriously tracked by the great Spirit, and they know and feel it. All men are really surrounded by God. He is not far from every one of us. “In Him we live, and move, and have our being.” Some are singularly aware of the presence of God. Certain of us never were without a sense of God. With others God’s watch is seen in a different way.

1. They feel that they are watched by God, because their conscience never ceases to rebuke them.

2. In some this watching has gone farther, for they are under solemn conviction of sin.

3. Certain men are not only plagued by conscience and dogged by fear, but the providence of God seems to have gone out against them. Yes, and God also watches over many in the way of admonition. Wherever they go, holy warnings follow them.

II. Secondly, we notice that they are very apt to dislike this watching. Job is not pleased with it. Do you know what they would like?

1. They want liberty to sin. They would like to be let loose, and to be allowed to do just as their wild wills would suggest to them.

2. They wish also that they could be as hard of heart as many others are.

3. Men do not like this being surrounded by God--this wearing the bit and kicking strap--because they would drop God from their thoughts.

4. Once more, there are some who do not like to be shadowed in this way, because they want to have their will with others. There are men--and seamen to be found among them--who are not satisfied with being ruined themselves, but they thirst to ruin others.

III. The third part is this--that this argument against the Lord’s dealings is a very bad one. Job says, “Am I a sea, or a whale, that Thou settest a watch over me?”

1. To argue from our insignificance is poor pleading; for the little things are just those against which there is most need to watch. If you were a sea, or a whale, God might leave you alone; but as you are a feeble and sinful creature, which can do more hurt than a sea, or a whale, you need constant watching.

2. After all, there is not a man here who is not very like a sea, or a sea monster in this respect, that he needs a watch to be set over him. A man’s heart is as changeable and as deceitful as the sea.

3. I shall now go further, and show that, by reason of our evil nature, we have became like the sea.

(1) This is true in several ways; for, first, the sea is restless, and so is our nature.

(2) Let us say, next, that the sea can be furious and terrible, and so can ungodly men. When a man is in a fury, what a wild beast he can be!

(3) Think, again, how unsatisfied is the sea. It draws down and swallows up stretches of land and thousands of tons of cliff, but it is not filled up.

(4) Human nature is like the sea for mischief. How destructive is the ocean, and how unfeeling! It makes widows and orphans by the thousand, and then smiles as if it had done nothing!

(5) We must not forget that we are less obedient to God than the sea is. Nothing keeps back the sea from many a shore but a belt of sand; and though it rages in storm and tempest, the sea goes back in due time and leaves the sand for children to play upon. It knows its bounds and keeps them. A man will go against wind and tide in his determination to be lost. O sea! O sea! thou art but a child with thy father, as compared with the wicked and rebellious heart of man! It is a bad argument, then. We need to be looked after.

IV. Last of all, I would remark that all they complained of was sent in love. They said, “Am I a sea, or a whale, that Thou settest a watch over me?” but if they had known the truth they would have blessed God with all their hearts for having watched over them as He has done.

1. First, God’s restraint of some of us has kept us from self-ruin. If the Lord had not held us in we might have been in prison; we might have been in the grave; we might have been in hell! Who knows what would have become of us?

2. God will not always deal roughly with you. Perhaps tonight He will say His last sharp word. Will you yield to softer means? (C. H. Spurgeon.)