I have sinned; what shall I do unto Thee, O Thou Preserver of men!
The sinner’s surrender to his Preserver
I. A confession. “I have sinned.” In words this is no more than a hypocrite, nay, a Judas, might say. Do not many call themselves “miserable sinners” who are indeed despicable mockers? Yet seeing Job’s heart was right his confession was accepted.
1. It was very brief, but yet very full. It was more full in its generality than if he had descended to particulars. We may use it as a summary of our life. “I have sinned.” What else is certain in my whole career? This is most sure and undeniable.
2. It was personal. I have sinned, whatever others may have done.
3. It was to the Lord. He addresses the confession not to his fellow men but to the Preserver of men.
4. It was a confession wrought by the Spirit. See verse 18, where he ascribes his grief to the visitation of God.
5. It was sincere. No complimentary talk, or matter of ritualistic form, or passing acknowledgment. His heart cried, “I have sinned,” and he meant it.
6. It was feeling. He was cut to the quick by it. Read the whole chapter. This one fact, “I have sinned,” is enough to brand the soul with the mark of Cain, and burn it with the flames of hell.
7. It was a believing confession. Mingled with much unbelief, Job still had faith in God’s power to pardon. An unbelieving confession may increase sin.
II. An inquiry. “What shall I do unto Thee?” In this question we see--
1. His willingness to do anything, whatever the Lord might demand, thus proving his earnestness.
2. His bewilderment: he could not tell what to offer, or where to turn; yet something must be done.
3. His surrender at discretion. He makes no conditions, he only begs to know the Lord’s terms.
4. The inquiry may be answered negatively. What can I do to escape Thee? Thou art all around me. Can past obedience atone? Alas! as I look back I am unable to find anything in my life but sin. Can I bring a sacrifice? Would grief, fasting, long prayers, ceremonies, or self-denial avail? I know they would not.
5. It may be answered evangelically. Confess the sin. Renounce it. Obey the message of peace: believe in the Lord Jesus, and live.
III. A title. “O Thou Preserver of men!” Observer of men, therefore aware of my case, my misery, my confession, my desire for pardon, my utter helplessness. Preserver of men. By His infinite long-suffering refraining from punishment. By daily bounties of supply keeping the ungrateful alive. By the plan of salvation delivering men from going down to the pit. By daily grace preventing the backsliding and apostasy of believers. Address upon the point in hand--
1. The impenitent, urging them to confession.
2. The unconcerned, moving them to inquire, “What must I do to be saved?”
3. The ungrateful, exhibiting the preserving goodness of God as a motive for love to Him. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
What to do in case of sin
1. What to do in case of sin is a point of the highest consideration.
2. Sincere confession of sin makes the soul very active and inquisitive about the remedies of sin.
3. A soul truly sensible of sin is ready to submit to any terms which God shall put upon him.
4. God is to be consulted and inquired after in all doubtful cases, especially in our sin cases. (J. Caryl.)
Complaining to God
It is his God whom the pious Job is thus apostrophising. “I, the poor pismire in the dust, will my error or my wrong-doing affect Omnipotence? Ah! pardon my transgression, whatever it be, ere it be too late! A little while, and I shall lie down in the dust, and even Thy keen eye will look for me in vain.” What are we to say to such language? It is a monotone that you will hardly find monotonous. Where is the patience, the submission, so calm, so dutiful, so beautiful of the Job whom we knew before? Is there a trace of it left? Surely from first to last we have not as yet one touch of such meek acquiescence in suffering, as we have seen, some of us, on beds of pain--such as we would pray earnestly to attain unto, in some measure, in our own hour of trial. We see nothing of the frame of mind in which a Moslem, whose very name implies submission, or a Stoic, a Marcus Aurelius, to say nothing of a Christian, would wish to meet the sharpest pang. We feel--do we not? that the very object of these wild cries is partly to intensify our sense of the woes that fell on Job, yet mainly to make us feel how boundless is his bewilderment at finding this terrible measure of suffering meted out as the seeming recompense for a life of innocence. And yet we are intended to feel with him. Admirable, pious, well-intentioned as are the words of Eliphaz, they seem to belong to another spiritual world than that of Job’s cries. We cannot but feel the sharp contrast between them, and you will feel with me that some great question must be at stake, some vital problem stirring in the air, or we should not be called on to listen, on the one hand, to the calm, well-rounded, unimpeachable teaching of Eliphaz, and, on the other, to the bitter, impassioned complaints, the almost rebellious cries of one whose praise is in all the Churches. This, then, is the one question which will be pressed on us more and more as we read the book, How is it that the saint, the saintly hero, who stands in the forefront of the drama, uses language which we dare not use, which we would pray to be preserved from using in our bitterest hour of suffering. How is it that, thus far at least, the foremost of his opponents speaks nothing which is not to be found on the lips of psalmist or prophet, little that is not worthy of lips which have been touched by a still higher teaching? How is it that, for all this, we shall, as we know, in due time have the highest of all authorities for holding that he and they, in their insight into the highest truths, fall below the Job whom they rebuke, and whom we ourselves cannot but reprove? Surely, so far, the great Judge of this debate must be listening with full approval to the good Eliphaz; with stern, if pitiful displeasure to the wild cries of Job. (Dean Bradley.)