In studying the ministry of Elihu, we find in it two grand elements, namely, "grace and truth." Both these were essential in dealing with Job; and, consequently, we find both coming out with extraordinary power. He tells Job and his friends, very distinctly, that he knows not how to give flattering titles unto man. Here the voice of " truth" falls, with great clearness, on the ear. Truth puts every one in his right place, and, just because it does so, it cannot bestow titles of flattery upon a poor guilty mortal, however much that mortal might be gratified by them. Man must be brought to know himself—to see his true condition—to confess what he really is. This was precisely what Job needed. He did not know himself, and his friends could not give him that knowledge. He needed to be led down into the depths; but his friends could not conduct him thither. He needed self-judgment; but his friends were wholly unable to produce it.
But Elihu begins by telling Job the truth. He introduces God into the scene in His true character. This was just what the three friends had failed to do. No doubt, they had referred to God; but their references were cloudy, distorted, and false. This is plain from chapter xlii. 7, 8, where we are told that, " The Lord said to Eliphaz the Temanite, My wrath is kindled against thee, and against thy two Mends: for ye have not spoken of me the thing that is right, as my servant Job hath. Therefore take unto you now seven bullocks and seven rams, and go to my servant Job, and offer up for yourselves a burnt offering: and my servant Job shall pray for you; for him will I accept; lest I deal with you after your folly, in that ye have not spoken of me the thing which is right, like my servant Job." They had utterly failed to bring God before the soul of their friend, and, therefore, they failed in producing the needed self-judgment.
Not so Elihu. He pursues a totally different line of things. He brings the light of " truth" to bear upon Job's conscience; and, at the same time, he administers the precious balm of " grace" to his heart. Let us quote his further sayings: " Wherefore, Job, I pray thee, hear my speeches, and hearken to all my words. Behold, now I have opened my mouth, my tongue hath spoken in my mouth. My words shall be of the uprightness of my heart, and my lips shall utter knowledge clearly. The Spirit of God hath made me, and the breath of the Almighty hath given me life. If thou canst answer me, set thy words in order before me, stand up. Behold, I am according to thy wish in God's stead; I also am formed out of the clay. Behold, my terror shall not make thee afraid, neither shall my hand be heavy upon thee."
In these accents, the ministry of " grace" unfolds itself, sweetly and powerfully, to the heart of Job. Of this most excellent ingredient there was a total absence in the ministry of the three friends. They showed themselves only too ready to bear down upon Job with "a heavy hand." They were stern judges—severe censors—false interpreters. They could fix their cold gray eye upon the wounds of their poor afflicted friend and wonder how they came there. They looked on the crumbling ruins of his house, and drew the harsh inference that the ruin was but the result of his bad behavior. They beheld his fallen fortunes, and, with unmitigated severity, concluded that those fortunes had fallen because of his faults. They had proved themselves to be entirely one-sided judges. They had wholly misunderstood the dealings of God. They had never seized the full moral force of that one weighty sentence, " God trieth the righteous" In a word, they were utterly astray. Their standpoint was false, and hence their whole range of vision was defective. There was neither "grace" nor " truth" in their ministry, and therefore they failed to convince Job. They condemned him without convincing him, whereas they ought to have convinced him and made him condemn himself.
Here it is that Elihu stands out in vivid contrast. He tells Job the truth; but he lays no heavy hand upon him. Elihu had learned the mighty mysterious power of " the still small voice"—the soul-subduing, heart-melting virtue of grace. Job had given utterance to a quantity of false notions about himself, and those notions had sprouted from a root to which the sharp ax of " truth" had to be applied. " Surely," says Elihu, " thou hast spoken in mine hearing, and I have heard the voice of thy words, saying, I am clean without transgression, I am innocent; neither is there iniquity in me."
What words for any poor sinful mortal to utter! Surely, though " the true light" in which we may walk had not shone on the soul of this patriarch, we may well marvel at such language. And yet, mark what follows. Although he was so clean, so innocent, so free from iniquity, he nevertheless says of God that, " He findeth occasions, he counteth me for his enemy. He putteth my feet in the stocks, he marketh all my paths." Here is a palpable discrepancy. How could a holy, just, and righteous Being count a pure and innocent man His enemy? Impossible. Either Job was self-deceived, or God was unrighteous; and Elihu, as the minister of truth, is not long in pronouncing a judgment and telling us which is which. " Behold, in this thou art not just: I will answer thee, that God is greater than man." What a simple truth! And yet how little understood! If God is greater than man, then, obviously. He, and not man, must be the Judge of what is right. This the infidel heart refuses; and hence the constant tendency to sit in judgment upon the works and ways and word of God—upon God himself. Man, in his impious and infidel folly, undertakes to pronounce judgment upon what is and what is not worthy of God—to decide upon what God ought and what He ought not to say and to do. He proves himself utterly ignorant of that most simple, obvious, necessary truth that " God is greater than man."
Now, it is when the heart bows under the weight of this great moral truth, that we are in a fit attitude to understand the object of God's dealings with us. Assuredly, He must have the upper hand. " Why dost thou strive against him? for he giveth not account of any of his matters. For God speaketh once, yea twice, yet man perceiveth it not. In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men, in slumberings upon the bed, then he openeth the ears of men, and sealeth their instruction, that he may withdraw man from his purpose, and hide pride from man. He keepeth hack his soul from the pit, and his life from perishing by the sword."
The real secret of all Job's false reasoning is to be found in the fact that he did not understand the character of God, or the object of all His dealings. He did not see that God was trying him—that He was behind the scenes and using various agents for the accomplishment of His wise and gracious ends. Even Satan himself was a mere instrument in the hand of God; nor could he move the breadth of a hair beyond the divinely prescribed limit; and moreover, when he had executed his appointed business, he was dismissed, and we hear no more about him. God was dealing with Job. He was trying him in order that He might instruct him, withdraw him from his purpose, and hide pride from him. Had Job seized this grand point, it would have saved him a world of strife and contention. Instead of getting angry with people and things—with individuals and influences, he would have judged himself and bowed low before the Lord in meekness and brokenness and true contrition.
This is immensely important for us all. We are all of us prone to forget the weighty fact that " God trieth the righteous." " He withdraweth not his eyes from them." We are in His hands, and under His eye continually. We are the objects of His deep, tender, and unchanging love; but we are also the subjects of His wise moral government. His dealings with us are varied. They are sometimes preventive; sometimes corrective; always instructive. We may be bent on some course of our own, the end of which would be moral ruin. He intervenes and withdraws us from our purpose. He dashes into fragments our air-built castles, dissipates our golden dreams, and interrupts many a darling scheme on which our hearts were bent and which would have proved to be certain destruction. "Lo, all these things worketh God oftentimes with man, to bring back his soul from the pit, to be enlightened with the light of the living."
If the reader will turn for a moment to Heb. 12:3-12, he will find much precious instruction on the subject of God's dealings with His people. We do not attempt to dwell upon it, but would merely remark that it presents throe distinct ways in which we may meet the chastening of our Father's hand. We may " despise" it, as though His hand and His voice were not in it; we may "faint" under it, as though it were intolerable, and not the precious fruit of His love; or, lastly, we may be " exercised by it," and thus reap, in due time, " the peaceable fruits of righteousness."
Now, if our patriarch had only seized the great fact that God was dealing with him, that He was trying him for his ultimate good—that He was using circumstances, people, the Sabeans, Satan himself, as His instruments—that all his trials, his losses, his bereavements, his sufferings, were but God's marvelous agency in bringing about Hi's wise and gracious end—that He would assuredly perfect that which concerned His dear and much loved servant, because His mercy endureth forever—in a word, had Job only lost sight of all second causes, and fixed his thoughts upon the living God alone, and accepted all from His loving hand, he would have more speedily reached the divine solution of all his difficulties.
But it is precisely here that we are all apt to break down. We get occupied with men and things—we view them in reference to ourselves. We do not walk with God through, or rather above the circumstances, but, on the contrary, we allow the circumstances to get power over us. In place of keeping God between us and our circumstances, we permit these latter to get between us and God. Thus we lose the sense of His presence—the light of His countenance—the holy calmness of being in His loving hand, and under His fatherly eye. We become fretful, impatient, irritable, faultfinding. We get far away from God, out of communion, thoroughly astray, judging every one except ourselves, until, at length, God takes us in hand, and by His own direct and powerful ministry, brings us back to Himself, in true brokenness of heart and humbleness of mind. This is " the end of the Lord."
We must, however, draw this paper to a close, and, with it, this entire series. Gladly would we expatiate further on Elihu's remarkable ministry; with pleasure and profit could we quote his further appeals to Job's heart and conscience- his pungent arguments—his pointed questions. But we must forbear, and leave the reader to go through the remaining chapters for himself. In so doing, he will find that when Elihu closes his ministry, God Himself begins to deal directly with the soul of His servant, (chap, xxxviii.—xli.) He appeals to His works in creation as the display of a power and wisdom which ought assuredly to make Job feel his own littleness. We do not attempt to cull passages from one of the most magnificent and sublime sections of the inspired canon. It must be read as a whole. It needs no comment. The human finger could but tarnish its luster. Its plainness is only equaled by its moral grandeur. All we shall attempt to do is to call attention to the powerful effect produced upon the heart of Job by this the most marvelous ministry surely under which mortal man was ever called to sit—the immediate ministry of the living God Himself.
This effect was threefold. It had reference to God; to himself; and to his friends—the very points on which he was so entirely astray. As to God, Elihu had declared Job's mistake, in the following words, " Job hath spoken without knowledge, and his words were without wisdom. My desire is that Job may be tried unto the end, because of his answers for wicked men. For he addeth rebellion unto his sin: he clappeth his hands among us, and multiplieth his words against God.........Thinkest thou this to be right, that thou saidst: My righteousness is more than God's?" But mark the change. Hearken to the breathings of a truly repentant spirit—the brief yet comprehensive statement of a corrected judgment. " Then Job answered the Lord, and said, I know that thou canst do everything, and that no thought can be withholden from thee. Who is he that hideth counsel without knowledge? therefore have I uttered that I understood not, things too wonderful for me. which I knew not. Hear, I beseech thee, and I will speak: I will demand of thee, and declare thou unto me. I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear: but now mine eye seeth thee." (Chap. xlii. 1-9.)
Here, then, was the turning point. All his previous statements, as to God and His ways, are now pronounced to be " words without knowledge." What a confession! What a moment in a man's history when he discovers that lie has been all wrong! What a thorough breakdown! What profound humiliation! It reminds us of Jacob getting the hollow of his thigh touched, and thus learning his utter weakness and nothingness. These are weighty moments in the history of souls—great epochs which leave an indelible impress on the whole moral being and character. To get right thoughts about God is to begin to get right about everything. If I am wrong about God, I am wrong about myself, wrong about my fellows, wrong about all.
Thus it was with Job. His new thoughts as to God were immediately connected with new thoughts of himself; and hence we find that the elaborate self-vindication—the impassioned egotism—the vehement self-gratulation—the lengthened arguments in self-defense—all is laid aside—all displaced by one short sentence of three words, " I am vile." And what is to be done with this vile self? Talk about it? Set it up? Be occupied with it? Take counsel for it? Make provision for it? Nay, " I abhor it."
This is the true moral ground for every one of us. Job took a long time to reach it; and so do we. Many of us imagine that we have reached the end of self when we have given a nominal assent to the doctrine of human depravity, or judged some of those sprouts which have appeared above the surface of our practical life. But alas! it is to be feared that very few of us indeed really know the full truth about ourselves. It is one thing to say " We are all vile," and quite another to feel, deep down in the heart, that " I am vile." This latter can only be known and habitually realized in the immediate presence of God. The two things must ever go together, "Mine eye seeth thee" -" Wherefore [ abhor myself." It is as the light of what God is shines in upon what I am, that I abhor myself. And then my self-abhorrence is a real thing. It is not in word, neither in tongue, but in deed and in truth. It will be seen in a life of self-abnegation—an humble spirit, a lowly mind, a gracious carriage in the midst of the scene through which I am called to pass. It is of little use to profess very low thoughts of self, while, at the same time, we are quick to resent any injury done to us, any fancied in-suit, slight, or disparagement. The true secret of a broken and contrite heart is to abide ever in the divine presence, and then we are able to carry ourselves right toward those with whom we have to do.
Thus we find that when Job got right as to God and himself, he soon got right as to his friends, for he learned to pray for them. Yes, he could pray for the " miserable comforters"—the " physicians of no value"—the very men with whom he had so long, so stoutly, and so vehemently contended. " And the Lord turned the captivity of Job, when he prayed for his friends."
This is morally beautiful. It is perfect. It is the rare and exquisite fruit of divine workmanship. Nothing can be more touching than to see Job's three friends exchanging their experience, their tradition, and their legality for the precious "burnt-offering;" and to see our dear patriarch exchanging his bitter invectives for the sweet prayer of charity. In short, it is a most soul-subduing scene altogether. The combatants are in the dust before God and in each other's arms. The strife is ended; the war of words is closed; and instead thereof, we have the tears of repentance, the sweet odor of the burnt offering, the embrace of love.
Happy scene! Precious fruit of divine ministry! What remains? What more is needed? What but that the hand of God should lay on the top stone on the beauteous structure? Nor is this lacking, for we read, " The Lord gave Job twice as much as he had before." But how? By what agency? Was it by Ids own independent industry and clever management? No: all is changed. Job is on new moral ground. He has new thoughts of God; new thoughts of himself; new thoughts of his friends; new thoughts of his circumstances; all things are become new. " Then came there unto him all his brethren, and all his sisters, and all they that had been of his acquaintance before, and did eat bread with him in his house; and they bemoaned him, and comforted him over all the evil that the Lord had brought upon him: every man also gave him a piece of money, and every one an earring of gold. So the Lord blessed the latter end of Job more than his beginning.........After this lived Job an hundred and forty years, and saw his sons, and his sons' sons, even four generations. So Job died, being old and full of days."