The Short-Lived Treasure
Esther 1:8-9
And the drinking was according to the law; none did compel: for so the king had appointed to all the officers of his house…


The apostle Paul speaks of the world as if it were a pageant which has been exhibited and is over; a procession which is on the march and has passed by; a scene picture which drops for a moment and then gives way to another which succeeds it. Here there is no continuing city for man. If he would have a kingdom which cannot be removed, he must seek it beyond the limits of the present world, among the things which are unseen and eternal.

1. Our first reflection must be, the world passeth away. It has gone. All its indulgences and all its glories have come to their appointed end. Nothing of them remains. Ahasuerus feasted and Vashti suffered. All is silent and dead. No single voice of the glory or of the sorrow remains. Where is the splendour of Shushan? Not one stone remains upon another of all the palaces of its glory or the portals of its majestic display. How wonderfully contrasted are the works of God and the works of man! The one has perished. The others remain, But is not this equally true of earth in all the relations and displays of its glory? Look where you will, you see the same history continually repeated. The bloom of youth, the gaiety of health, the boast of riches, the clarion sound of triumph and power, all, all pass away. They live a moment; they shine for a day; and they are gone. Man tries in vain to prolong their enjoyment and their being; or even to recover their shape, and perpetuate their memory. He is doomed to disappointment in them all. The retrospect is sadness and self condemnation. There at least we may say, "My heart and my hope shall not be fixed. Something better than this I must have and will have. The joys that fade so rapidly and so certainly are not for me. This world, and all the things which are in this world, shall never be the treasure of my choice."

2. As our second reflection upon this accomplished scene, the manner of its passing has been most remarkable. In the lesson we have considered, God has been pleased to show us this experiment on the grandest scale. The world began with every possible advantage for its working and its display, and in every succeeding step it went downward until it came to nothing. Its first scene was its brightest one. The morning rose when the tide was at his full and the surface calm as the molten silver. Every hour marked its rapid ebb, till the evening closed upon a full accumulation of defilement and disgust which the preceding show had vainly covered for a season. It was a sad experiment indeed. In the manner of its passage and trial it was a universal type. In all our possessions of the world, in the whole scheme of mere worldly enjoyment, the first is always the best. The clock of this world still strikes backward. It begins at twelve, runs rapidly round to one, and then stops. Thus its circle is complete, larger or smaller as it may happen to be. How many have I seen, starting in all the pride of inherited wealth, closing their career in neglect and poverty! How many have I beheld the centre of personal admiration in the world of fashion, of earthly pomp and folly, living to be forgotten and abhorred! Thus this present world repays its votaries. And when the result comes in age, or sickness, or poverty, or neglect, and the whole machine has run down and stopped, bitter and disgusting indeed is the remembrance of the world which has gone. But what a contrast there is between this passing worldly portion and the reality of that treasure which stands in opposition to it! The heavenly portion ever grows more and more compensating and satisfactory. The heart never grows old or dull in the faithful pursuit of it.

3. In this passage of the world you may see what are the elements of its short-lived power to please — what are the facts which make up the necessity of this rapid rush of all that sinful man has sought and desired on the earth. Ahasuerus had everything which a mere sensual mind could ask. What formed the necessity of his wretchedness in the midst of it all? We may answer at once, because nothing of all that he had was adapted in itself to give him satisfaction. This is the first difficulty. You have a spiritual nature, a soul within which can never be satisfied with the mere shams of an earthly life. The soul looks out in the midst of all the joys of earth unmet and unhappy, unable to be contented thus, because there is no real proportion between the two. There is here an original and inseparable defect in the things of the world, which no multiplication of them can supply. These joys and treasures are all short-lived and perishing in them selves. They have the sentence of death within themselves; and you cannot prolong the period of their power. They corrupt and decay in your hands while you grasp them. The appetites which desire and seek these joys pass away with them also. There soon comes the time when there is no longer a susceptibility to their power. Their invitations find no longer a response in the heart to which they are offered. The voices of singing men and singing women can be heard no more. And this with no reference to a change of principle or heart. No, it may be we would willingly prolong their power if we could; we would gladly renew our former gratifications in them if it were possible. But all their power to please, and all our facility to be pleased by them, have passed away and cannot be recalled. The whole scene of which these earthly joys make up a part also goes, and cannot be arrested or recalled. Friends are gone; families are broken; homes are lost; companions have departed. We stand here to contemplate this inherent fading character in the world which has passed. What a contrast are all its provisions to the joys and advantages of real religion!

4. We may look at the result of this passage of the fashion of the world. What does it leave behind? All, this is the worst of all. We have seen the evidence in the experiment before us. Nothing in memory. There is no remembrance of benefit or pleasure. The past gives no satisfaction. There is no room for delight in retrospection. A wasted life, enfeebled powers, conscious degradation, are all the residuum of a life of sensual enjoyment in the world. Added to this, there is extreme regret, often the bitterness of unappeased remorse. Nothing in actual possession. What of all the array of human pleasures outlasts itself? Youth, gaiety and wealth successively pass by. Man goes out of one vain indulgence into another, but carries nothing away with him. The soul is empty. He presses on in this vain succession to the end. The fact of the result remains the same. He has nothing. Pleasure has gone; time has gone; indulgence has gone; means have gone; appetites have gone; life has gone. And of the whole pageant as it has passed nothing remains.

(S. H. Tyng, D. D.)



Parallel Verses
KJV: And the drinking was according to the law; none did compel: for so the king had appointed to all the officers of his house, that they should do according to every man's pleasure.

WEB: In accordance with the law, the drinking was not compulsory; for so the king had instructed all the officials of his house, that they should do according to every man's pleasure.




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