Ephesians 5:16 Redeeming the time, because the days are evil. Our moments slip away silently and insensibly; the thief steals not more unperceived from the pillaged house. And will the runagates never stop? No: wherever we are, however employed, time pursues his incessant course. Though we are listless and dilatory, the great measurer of our days presses on, still presses on, in his unwearied career, and whirls our weeks, and months, and years away. Is it not, then, surprisingly strange to hear people complain of the tediousness of their time, and how heavy it hangs upon their hands? To see them contrive a variety of amusing artifices to accelerate its flight, and to get rid of its burden? Ah! thoughtless mortals! Why need you urge the headlong torrent? Your days are swifter than a post, which, carrying despatches of the last importance, with unremitted speed scours the road. They pass away like the nimble ships, which have the wind in their wings, and skim along the watery plain. They hasten to their destined period with the rapidity of an eagle, which leaves the stormy blast behind her, while she cleaves the air, and darts upon her prey. Now the day is gone, how short it appears! When my fond eye beheld it in perspective, it seemed a very considerable space. Minutes crowded upon minutes, and hours ranged behind hours, exhibited an extensive draught, and flattered me with a longer progression of pleasures. But upon a retrospective view, how wonderfully is the case altered! The landscape, large and spacious, which a warm fancy drew, brought to the test of cool experience, shrinks into a span, just as the shores vanish, and mountains dwindle to a spot, when the sailor, surrounded by skies and ocean, throws his last look on his native land. How clearly do I now discover the cheat! May it never impose upon my unwary imagination again! I find there is nothing abiding on this side eternity. A long duration, in a state of finite existence, is mere illusion. Hark! what sound is that? In such a situation every noise alarms. Solemn and slow it breaks upon the silent air. 'Tis the striking of the clock — designed, one would imagine, to ratify all my serious meditations. Methinks it says, Amen, and sets a seal to every improving hint. It tells me that another portion of my appointed time is elapsed. One calls it, "the knell of my departed hours." 'Tis the watchword to vigilance and activity. It cries in the ear of reason, "Redeem the time. Catch the favourable gales of opportunity. Oh! catch them while they breathe; before they are irrecoverably lost. The span of life shortens continually. Thy minutes are all upon the wing, hastening to be gone. Thou art a borderer upon eternity, and making incessant advances to the state thou art contemplating." May the admonition sink deep into an attentive and obedient mind! May it teach me that heavenly arithmetic, of numbering my days; and applying my heart unto wisdom! (Hervey.) Parallel Verses KJV: Redeeming the time, because the days are evil. |
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