Job’s Instruction about Death and Life

Rev. A.H. Verhoef, St. Catharines, ON

By God’s own testimony, Job was a man “perfect and upright, and one that feared God, and eschewed evil.” Moreover, he was blessed with many goods, children, and honor. However, he was also sorely tried. In a few strokes he lost nearly everything, even his health, and, as sore boils covered his entire body, he sat down among the ashes, taking a potsherd to scrape himself withal. His wife gave him no comfort; she was not an helpmeet for him but told him to curse God and die. His three friends came, but instead of comforting him, they accused him, for, so they thought, God must be punishing him for some great evil which he had committed. Truly, Job’s grief was very great.

Then, in the midst of all the words which were spoken by these four men, Job lifts up his heart unto God and begins to speak unto Him. “Is there not an appointed time to man upon earth? are not his days also like the days of an hireling? As a servant earnestly desireth the shadow, and as an hireling looketh for the reward of his work?” The expression “an appointed time” also means a warfare. Does not man have warfare upon earth, does he not have strife, toil, pain, affliction? Is there one who can deny that our life is full of troubles and crosses?

Why is there warfare and strife? Why are we burdened with concerns and difficulties? Why do we suffer sickness, grief, and pain? In the state of rectitude we had peace and harmony with God, we enjoyed communion with our Maker, we loved Him and served him. Alas, we fell. We sinned. We rebelled. Now “the crown is fallen from our head: woe unto us, that we have sinned!” We have lost God’s image. We have forfeited God’s favor. We were driven out of paradise. We had to die. Our time on earth was not only appointed in the sense of experiencing toil, but our time on earth was appointed to come to an end. Paul wrote, “It is appointed unto man once to die, but after this the judgment.”

Job had learned this; he had received an eye for this. Lord, he says, my life is swiftly fleeing away. I live but a brief span on this earth. “As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away: so he that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more.” Your and my life is compared to a cloud. And what is a cloud? It may appear beautiful and fair or very dark and threatening, but in fact, let some warmth of the sun come or a gust of wind, and the cloud vanisheth, it disappears. No lasting substance is found in the cloud. Such a cloud does not come back; it does not reappear. So our life may appear solid, imposing as a huge towering cloud; it may present itself calm and peaceful or else ominous and frightening; but in reality we are already being consumed; we are vanishing away. We shall go down to the grave, be buried in the earth, and we shall come up no more. We shall not return to this perishing world.

Should we not seriously consider our brief and vanishing life in the light of God’s Word and in the light of eternity? At death, what is left of our honor? Of our beauty? Our strength? Our possessions? Job gives the answer, “Naked came I out of my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return thither.” What did Solomon say? “As he came forth of his mother’s womb, naked shall he return to go as he came, and shall take nothing of his labour, which he may carry away in his hand.” The apostle taught no differently: “We brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out.” Soon we all will be laid in the dust, for dust we are and to dust shall we return. The testimony comes time and again, “He that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more.”

How solemn is this truth. Yet, do we realize it? Or do we try to forget the message? Whoever goes down to the grave “shall return no more to his house, neither shall his place know him any more.” We shall no more go to our garden or our field. We shall no more do our work in the kitchen or the shop. We shall no more sit in church. Our family and friends shall not see us anymore, and although memories linger, over time they, too, shall begin to fade. If the world still stands for some time, who will remember us a century from now? And the place where we stood as a flower? The poet sang about it, “Tis found no more, it vanisheth for aye.”

How solemn is the message of God’s Word. How serious is our life, and how serious is our death. Brief, so very brief, is our journey here below. What must we learn? What is the warning the Lord still gives? What is the way which God points out to us? Does Job say, It is all over after our death? Are we like the beasts, without a soul? No, certainly not. A few chapters later Job testifies, “Though after my skin worms destroy my body, yet in my flesh shall I see God.” Job knew there was life after death, there was a resurrection to follow, and then the judgment would be set.

Therefore, you and I must be prepared for death, be prepared to meet our Maker in righteousness and peace. The time we are given here on earth is given only once. That is the time of grace, and it shall return no more. The time to seek the Lord is now. We cannot do that over again. “To day if ye will hear His voice, harden not your hearts, as in the provocation.” Oh, we must be prepared to meet the Lord. Yes, we must be prepared, but how?

Job testified, “I know that my Redeemer liveth.” Job was redeemed; he was delivered. From what, you ask? Job confessed it later in our chapter: “I have sinned.” From those sins he was redeemed. Every death tells us that it is the wages of sin, the just judgment upon our transgressions. Have you, my friend, already come to know your sin as sin against God? Our sin dishonors Him, offends Him, provokes Him, but it also ruins our soul. Oh, do not think it is not so bad in your life. Do not merrily skip onwards on the broad way to destruction as if no eternity is coming. Do not seek to cover your shame with some fig leaves of a self-made religion. We must be made a sinner, a lost and undone sinner, before God, by His Holy Spirit.

When that wonder takes place, there is grief in our soul, for we see that we have sinned against a good-doing God. Godly sorrow is bitter for that reason but also sweet, for the love of God is shed abroad in the heart, though the sinner does not dare to believe it. No, for him it becomes, “I have sinned against Thy grace, and provoked Thee to Thy face.” We become ashamed and confounded; with Ephraim we smite upon our thigh. Then there comes a seeking of the Lord without any delay. Then we realize we must die and we cannot die. Then we begin to love God’s name, His Word, His day, His house, His people, His service. There comes a confessing of our sin, a grieving for our sin, a begging to be delivered from all our many sins. Oh, then we realize that we shall one time rise from the dead, but, oh, how shall that be?

Young and old, there is but One who can help us. Later in the chapter Job called Him the Preserver of men. Is that not a precious name? A suitable name? A necessary name? Christ is the One whom Job came to know experimentally as his Redeemer. He came into this world so poor, so lowly, but as He lived, His life was as a cloud, it was consumed and vanished away. He suffered bitter pain and innumerable reproaches. He was the Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. He felt the agonies of hell and the forsaking of His God. He was nailed to the cross to be a curse. He died willingly and voluntarily to pay for the sins of His chosen race. He also went down to the grave. “Away with Him” was the awful cry.

What did Job write? “As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away: so he that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more.” It is true, that precious Preserver of men did go down to the grave. However, while we cannot of ourselves ever come up anymore, Christ rose triumphantly, for He had merited life. He showed He had power to lay down His life and to take it again. His Father raised Him also, for He was satisfied with the labors of His Son. What a blessing beyond compare; the Redeemer tells His followers still, “Because I live, ye shall live also.” He did come up from the grave, and He did return to His house, to the house of His Father with the many mansions to prepare a place for His own. Now He sits with His Father on the throne and, one by one, calls His people home to Him, until the time that He shall come again upon the clouds of heaven. Oh, sorrowing and grieving Jobs, remember, your Redeemer liveth, and ye shall live also.

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