THE TIME ON GOD’S CLOCK
Dr. W. A. Criswell
2 Peter 3:1-4
05-20-84
The sermon today concerns the coming of our Lord. It is one of a series
on eschatology: the return of Jesus to this earth. And the title of the
message is: The Time on God’s Clock.
The clock of God is wound but once
And no man has the power
To tell just when the clock will stop
At late or early hour.
To lose one’s wealth is sad indeed.
To lose one’s health is more.
To lose one’s soul is such a loss
That nothing can restore.
The
Time on God’s Clock.
Revelation 1:1 begins: “The apokalupsis—the unveiling—of Jesus Christ,
which God gave unto him, to show unto his servants things which must en
tachei”—en tachei: what does that mean?
In Revelation 22:6, that same avowal is made: The Lord God “sent his angel to
show unto his servants the things which must en tachei… .” And
then, verse 7: “Behold, I come tachu… .” And then, verse 12:
“Behold, I come
tachu… .” And then, in verse 20: “Surely—surely
I come tachu… .”
What does that mean? Tachos is the noun form and it means “swiftness,
quickness, speed.” Tachei is the adjectival form; “speedy,
quickly.” Tacheos is an adverb, meaning “quickly, speedily.”
Tachion is another adverb, meaning “quickly.”
Tachu, the word used here, is an adverb,
meaning “quickly, speedily.” “Behold, I come tachu”—quickly,
speedily.
Now, if that is an adverb of time, it
means He is coming quickly, soon. If it is an adverb of manner—of how He
is coming—His coming is speedily, quickly.
So, we’re going to take it in both
meanings. I don’t know which it is. Is it an adverb of time: He is
coming quickly? Is it an adverb of manner: His coming is quickly,
speedily, when He comes? This denouement of the ages, this consummation
and climax of history will be speedy, quick, when he comes. It will soon
be done. It will soon be over with.
We’re going to take it in both.
First, that taxu might mean the time of His coming, the adverbial time
of His return: “Behold, I come taxu”—quickly, immediately. If
that’s what it means, it is difficult for us to understand, because the Lord
has delayed His coming. It’s been over 2,000 years.
And for us to think of taxu as
2,000 years—and maybe 2,000 or 10,000 years beyond—strains our
understanding. If you’re taking a boat trip on Lake Lucerne, in
Switzerland, the Lake comes to a point where you think it’s the end. But,
then, it opens up again. And when you come to the next point where you
think it ends, it open again and continues on and on and on.
That’s the way it is with the Lord’s
coming. It seems like he will come at this point in history. Then,
it opens again. Then, you think, “Surely…” and it opens again and
again. And it goes on and on through the centuries and, now, through the
millennia.
It seems that the Lord delays His
coming. In the twenty-fifth chapter of the Book of Matthew, there is the
story of the bridegroom and the five foolish and five wise maidens. It
says that the bridegroom “tarried”—he delayed his coming.
The reason for the writing of the second
Thessalonian letter was that they expected His coming tachu:
immediately, quickly. And their people had died—some of their loved ones
had perished. And it filled them with consternation and abysmal
despair. And that’s why the first Thessalonian letter was written:
because Christian people had died and the Lord hadn’t returned.
In the sixth chapter of the Revelation,
under the fifth seal, he sees the souls of those who had been martyred for
Christ. And they ask: “How long, O Lord—how long?”
And He hasn’t come yet. The delay
is almost inexplicable to us. That’s why the bitter critics of the Bible
say one of two things. Either the Lord Jesus was mistaken Himself—He
didn’t know. He misunderstood; Or, second: the disciples misunderstood or
misinterpreted. They didn’t know. But, in either case, Jesus made a
mistake or the apostles made a mistake, or both.
“Behold, I come taxu… .”
And if the adverb is one of time—when He’s coming, then it posits a great
problem for us.
The answer is found in God, as all
answers to all human problems are found in the Lord. Time to God is not
time as to us. In that third chapter of the second letter of Simon Peter,
he wrote: “A thousand years is but a day to him… .” And in the beautiful
Psalm 90, the prayer of Moses, it says: “A thousand years are but a day in your
sight, and as a watch in the night.”
We are creatures of time. We are imprisoned
in time. We are bound and fettered by it. We can’t escape it.
We belong to the animal world of time
and the animals live their lives by the clock. There’s a time when they
mate. There’s a time when they hibernate. There’s a time when they
shed their fur. There’s a time when they put on heavy fur.
The whole vegetable world, which is also
alive, is like that. It lives by the clock. There is a time when it
sheds its leaves. There are times when it buds. There are times
when it roots.
We belong to that world of life.
We are bound by time. If you, rapidly, in a jet plane, go from one time
zone to another, you’ll experience a “jet lag,” because your body has an
anatomical clock in it.
And we live by seasons and years and,
finally, age and death. We are built and subject to time. We are
imprisoned and held by it. But, when you think of time, even for us, it
is grossly and immeasurably relative and, ultimately, is meaningless.
Look at it. If there is a mile to
travel, a snail looks at that mile and says, “That’s a long time.” A stag
or a hound could look at that mile and it’s shorter. A racing car can
look at that distance and it’s still shorter. A jet plane can map out
that mile and it’s almost in a second. For light, traveling at 186,000
miles per second, it is almost non-existent.
Time is relative in our position in
looking at it. Man can stand here on this earth and look at a sun in the
great solar system Andromeda. What you see is a sun that is 1,000,000,000
light years away. And what he sees is what was there 1,000,000,000 years
ago.
But, a man who could stand there near
Andromeda could see what happened that instant. Or halfway to Andromeda
or two-thirds of the way—the time is relative to where you are.
Another thing with us: time goes
according to how we feel. If I am sick,
and
if I am hurting, time is long. In the morning, I do God’s work. In
the evening, God’s work is done. If I am happy, the time is short.
And if you’ve ever been in Cairo, and
visited the Museum there, you’ll see those mummies that were mummified about
2000 or 3000 B.C. And you know, I think, “If that mummy could wake up
right now, it would be like only a second.”
And time to us is meaningless.
It’s just relative.
How much more so is that to God? He
created time. He lives in the present—the ever-present. He is the
great “I am” in the past. He’s the great “I am” in the present.
He’s the great “I am” in the future. All time is the same before Him.
In the tenth chapter of the Book of
Joshua, the great leader who led his people into Canaan prayed to God and said,
“Sun, stand still upon Gibeon. And Moon, stand still in the valley of
Ajalon.”
So, the sun stood still and the moon
stood still. And we say, “What a marvelous miracle!”
But, to God, the sun never does
down. It’s always present before God. It’s ever-present.
In the thirty-eighth chapter of the Book
of Isaiah, God gives a sign to good King Hezekiah. And it is that the
shadow on the sundial of Ahaz turns back 10 degrees. But, whether it goes
forward 10 degrees or back 10 degrees does not matter to God. There’s no
time with Him. He doesn’t hasten to perform His purpose, because the sun
never sets before God.
The same thing is true with
history. He sees the end from the beginning. It’s all the present
with God. And He looks at it here or here or here or here, and it’s just
the same. There’s no tomorrow with God.
There’s no enemy that ambushes
Him. There are no difficulties that catch Him by surprise. There
are no interdictions that make it difficult for God. He doesn’t have to
hasten to accomplish His purposes. And there are no weapons that are
prevailing against Him. Time is all the same.
History is all the same before
God. He looks at it and sees the end from the beginning. And he
outlines for us in His Holy Word the whole course of human history. And
in each instance, he outlines for the whole and deportment of civilization and
life.
It always ends in a great consummation:
the climactic return of our Lord. For example, in the second chapter of
the Book of Daniel, Daniel outlines, by vision, for the king the entire course
of human history.
There is a head of a man made of
gold. “That is the Babylonian Empire,” he said. There is the breast
and arms made of silver. “That is the Medo-Persian Empire,” says the
statesman-prophet. There is the thigh made out of brass. “That’s
the great Macedonian-Alexandrian-Greek Empire.” And there are two legs
made out of iron. “That’s the Roman Empire,” he says. Then, the
feet are made out of clay and iron—Never another world empire. “And
that,” says the prophet is the day in which the stone cut without hands crashes
into the image and grows to fills the whole earth.”
That’s the coming of Christ and the
kingdom of our Lord. That’s the whole course of human history.
In the seventh chapter of the Book of
Daniel, the same course is given in another vision. Over the stormy,
wind-swept course of human history, there arises out of the sea a beast, a
lion. And that’s the Babylonian Empire. And there arises out of
that sea a bear. And that’s the Medo-Persian Empire. There arises
out of that sea a leopard. And that is the great Grecian Empire.
Then, there arises a non-descript animal that is strong. And they are 10
kings. And in the days of those kings arises the Son of Man, the Ancient
of Days. And He leads the world into the millennial glory of God Himself.
The whole course of human history: God
sees it all. And He reveals it unto his servants. And it always
climaxes in the coming of our Lord—always.
In the tenth chapter of the Book of
Hebrews, it says, “He that comes shall surely come.” That’s why we are
never, ever to be discouraged or pessimistic or downcast. However the
course of history may follow, or however dark the day may seem, there is always
triumph and victory in the hand of Almighty God.
Blessed are the eyes that can see in
time the timeless; that can see in the temporary the eternal; that can see in
the waiting the coming; that can see in the winter the spring; that can see in
death life; that can see in the grave the resurrection; that can see in the
course of human history the tachu, the soon coming of our Lord.
“Behold, I come tachu”—quickly.
And if it is adverb of time, and refers to when, in God’s sight it’s just
now. And even in our experience, it’s just tomorrow. It’s just a
day.
We’re going to take it now in the second
possible meaning of the word: from taxu, an adverb of time, to an
adverb of manner—how he’s coming. If that is the meaning of the word, it
means, when He comes, he will come speedily. He will come quickly.
The denouement of history will be fast: one thing right after another.
Of the two meanings, I would choose the
second one because it seems to be the emphatic teaching of the Word of
God. If He comes speedily, quickly, when the denouement of history
arrives, then the events that close history will come speedily—quickly, one
after another.
And the reason the Lord speaks to us
about that is because He impresses upon us that when the denouement—the climax
of history—comes, there is no more time to prepare. It’s over.
For example, in the twenty-fifth chapter
of the Book of Matthew, there is the Lord’s story of the bridegroom and the 10
virgins, it’s called here—the 10 bridesmaids, five of who were foolish and five
of whom were wise. And they had lamps, ready for the procession when the
bridegroom comes.
And it says here, at the midnight cry—at
the midnight cry, the bridegroom came. “Behold, the bridegroom
cometh. Go ye out to meet him.”
And the point of the parable is: those
who were prepared were ready to go meet him. But, the five foolish ones
had no time to prepare.
The lamp, of course, is the brightness
and the shininess and the glory of the Christian life and Christian faith and
Christian commitment. And the oil is a picture of the Holy Spirit of
God. When joined with the beautiful Christian life, there are ready to go
out and meet the Lord.
And there is no time in the parable
between the midnight cry—“Behold, the bridegroom cometh”—and the procession,
that immediately followed after.
May I point out—the best that I can
understand the Bible, everywhere in the Bible the impression is made—overtly,
statedly or implied—that, when the end times come, the events that characterize
the end times will follow one another quickly. Always it is that
way. There is no time to prepare. The preparation has to be made
before. And when the end times come, it is done and over for us.
Our preparation must be made now. We don’t have time to prepare when the
end times come.
Now, I said, my impression of the Bible,
as I read it, is: without exception, all through the Word of God, the
impression is made that the coming of our Lord is tachu—quickly,
swiftly. The events happen one after another.
For example, in the seventeenth chapter
of the Book of Luke, the coming of our Lord is like an eagle that swoops out of
the sky. Or, in the twenty-fourth chapter of the Book of Matthew, His
coming is like the forked lightning that strikes the earth. Or, in the
same chapter, it’s like the flood that burst upon the earth. Or, in the
same chapter, the coming of our Lord is like the fire and brimstone that fell
on Sodom and Gomorrah—suddenly.
It’s the same thing that you will find
at the close of the Sermon on the Mount. There’s a man who built his
house on the rock and a man who built his house on the sand. And upon
both of them, the rains fell and the floods rose and beat against that house.
And there’s no time to prepare when the
horrible storm has come. When I read that in the Bible, I see it in our
daily lives. I see it in history. I see it in all the experiences
of life.
Two men are in the rain. They’re
boxing. The fight is on. That’s it.
Or, there are men and women down on the
field of contest—they’re in the athletic field. When the team is there,
there’s no time to prepare. The time has come.
Or, a nation is at war. There’s no
time to prepare. The war is being fought.
All of life is like that. When
things happen—even to us—it’s like a thousand years in a day: great decisions,
great confrontations, great meetings.
And the Lord’s coming is just like
that. It is swift.
Now, one of the things taught us in the parable
is that, when that time comes, we can’t borrow from someone else. These
five foolish virgins asked the five wise ones, who had their lamps lit and made
their preparation: “Let us borrow from thee—let us borrow from thee.”
So, they said, “There’s not enough for
us and you.” That’s human life, too. No man in that final day can
stand before God on his wife’s religion or on his children’s Christian
faith. You can’t borrow from somebody else. You have to do
it. It has to be something personal between you and God.
You have to get ready. Your wife
can’t get ready for you. Your husband can’t get ready for you. Or,
the children can’t get ready for the parents. Each one—we’ve got to be
ready for ourselves.
Will you notice another thing? In
the preparation for the coming of our Lord, the parable ends with “Watch,
therefore.” Watch—well, how do you watch for the Lord? Watch—watch:
how do we watch for the coming of Christ?
Is it with a frenzied expectation?
Is it with a feverish and fervent looking up? Is it a staring up into the
sky?
In the first chapter of the Book of
Acts, when the Lord ascended into heaven, that’s what the disciples were
doing. The apostles were standing there, gazing up into heaven. An
angel came down and said to the apostles standing there, gazing up into the
sky: “Why, men of Galilee, do you stand here, gazing up into the
heavens?” There’s no preparation asked by God of us like that.
For example, like at that more
closely. Here in the twenty-fifth chapter it says, “While the bridegroom
tarried, they all enustaksan—they all enustaksan kai—“and”—ekatheudon.”
Ah, what a vividness is that: enustaksan—they
began to nod. They began to nod. And ekatheudon—that’s the
word when they speak of a Christian dying: falling asleep. Enustaksan:
they began to nod—all of them; ekatheudon: they all fell into solid
slumber—asleep.
When you look at the Word of God, are
these five wise blamed because they went sound asleep? Are these five
wise ones castigated and condemned because they nodded and slept so soundly?
No, for their preparation depended not
on their not nodding, or not going to sleep. Their preparation did not
depend on their standing there and looking up in the sky, waiting for the Lord.
There were fully prepared, because their
lamps were lit and they had enough oil in store. Their lives were shining
for God, daily working in the vineyard of the Lord.
They had taken care of God’s kingdom in
the earth, and they were nourished by the Holy Spirit. When it came, they
were ready. When it came, there were busy, doing work for Jesus.
They were shining in the earth.
And that is what He wants: they were
ready—just any time. It didn’t matter. Before we have the
benediction, before nightfall, in the middle of this evening’s sleep, early in
the morning—it doesn’t matter; working for God, doing good for Jesus.
In the Book of the Revelation, the Lord
said, “Surely—surely I come tachu”—quickly.
And the sainted Apostle replied, “Amen.
Even so, come, Lord Jesus”—any moment, any hour, any day.
Heaven, know my heart. I’m
ready. The light of life shining mirrors the Holy Spirit.
Let me close with an attempted
illustration. We love, at our house, nineteenth century English
paintings. I don’t think there’s any time in history more beautiful than
those in the nineteenth century and those English painters, with scenes of
English life.
We used to be able to buy them very
reasonably. Now, they’ve gone up astronomically. Back yonder—years
ago, when we began collecting them, they were very reasonable. And our
house is full of them: nineteenth century British paintings.
Well, one of them in the house—one of
them, I look at and look at. In the painting is a thatched cottage—a
thatched-roof cottage—by the side of an English shore. And just beyond is
the open sea. And the caption underneath is: “The Fisherman’s
Return”—“The Fisherman’s Return.”
And the artist has painted a door that
faces the sea. He has painted the return of that fisherman. And
there are the children, with their arms outstretched. Their daddy—their
father—has come home. And there is his wife, with her eyes filled with
loving welcome and expectancy. And there they are, by that thatched-roof
cottage by the seas, welcoming home that fisherman—that father and that husband.
As I look at that, I think of this word
of God. What is “watching and waiting?” Is it for that dear wife to
go to the edge of the sea and stand there, looking out over the vast expanse of
the water—watching for her fisherman husband? Or, is her watching working
around the house, busy with the chores of the house, taking care of the
children, doing the work of a dear mother and wife—and once in a while,
glancing through the door at the open sea, maybe to catch sight of her
husband’s return?
Working, busy, doing God’s assignment
for us in the earth—then, when He comes—when He comes, we’re ready. The
lamp lit, the light ready, nourished by the Holy Spirit—“Even so, come, Lord
Jesus.”
Come, Lord Jesus. You know my
heart: any minute, any time. And while He delays, we are working for
Jesus, doing His will and assignment in the earth.
It’s
a great life.
It’s a great coming. It’s a
marvelous expectation: “Behold, I come tachu”—quickly.
We’re going to stand in this moment and
sing our hymn of appeal. And while we sing it, a family to put your life
with us in our wonderful church; somebody—you—to take Jesus as your Savior:
open your heart to life in Him; recommit your life to our wonderful Savior—to
take Him as your best friend and companion, who will stand by you forever.
As the Lord of the earth shall press the
appeal to your heart, make it now. Come now. May God bless, and
angels attend, as you answer with your life, while we stand and while we sing.
.