If I say, I am perfect, it shall also prove me perverse.
why we should sufi'er. That reason may be seen yet by us, but if not, we should never doubt that it exists.' *\\ Who shall set vie a time to plead.' Noyes renders this, " Who shall summon me to trial V Dr. Good, " Who should become a witness for me.'"' The sense is, ' Who would summon witnesses for me.'' If it was a mere trial of strength, God is too mighty for me; if it were a question of justice, who would compel witnesses to come on my side.'' Who could make them willing to appear against God, and to bear testimony for me in a controversy with tiie Almighty V
20. If I justify myself mine oicn mouth shall condemn me. That is, referring still to the form of a judicial trial, if 1 should undertake to manage my own cause, I should lay myself open to condemnation even in my argument on the subject, and should show that I was far from the perfection which I had undertaken to maintain. By passionate expressions; by the language of complaint and murmuring; by a want of suitable reverence; by showing my ignorance of the principles of the divine government; by arguments unsound and based on false positions; or by contradictions and self-refutations, I should shov/ that my position was untenable, and that God was right in charging me with guilt. In some or in all of these ways Job felt, probably, that in an argument before God he would be self-condemned, and that even an attempt to justify himself, or to prove that he was innocent, would prove that he was guilty. And is it not always so.? Did a man ever yet undertake to repel the charges of guilt brought against him by his Maker, and to prove that he was innocent, in which lie did not himself shcxw the truth of what he was denying? Did not his false views of God and of his law; his passion, murmuring, and irreverence; his unwillingness to admit the force of the palpable considerations urged to prove that lie was giiiltv, demonstrate that he was at Jjcart a sinner, and that he was insubrnissivc and rebellious? The very attempt to enter into such an argument against God, shows that the heart is not right; and the manner in which such an argument is commonly conducted demonstrates that he wlio does it is sinful. H If I say / am perfect. Should I attempt to | maintain such an argument, the very j attempt would prove that my heart is perverse and evil. It would do this because God had adjudged the contrary, and because such an effort would show an insubmissive and a DToud heart. This passage shows that Job did not regard himself as a man absolutely free from sin. He was indeed said (cli. i. 1.) to be 'peifect and uprightV but this verse piovrs that that testimony in regard to him was not inconsistent with his consciousness of guilt. See the Notes on that verse. And is not the claim to absolute perfection in this world always a proof that the heart is perverse.'' Does not the very setting up of such a claim in fact indicate a pride of heart, a self-satisfaction, and an ignorance of the true state of the soul, which is full demonstration that the heart is far from being perfect? God adjudges man to be exceedingly sinful; and if I do not mistake the meaning of the Scriptures, this is his testimony of every human heart — totally until renewed — partially ever onward till death. If this be the account in the Scriptures, then the claim to absolute perfection is prima facie, if not full proof, that the heart is in some way perverse. It has come to a different conclusion from that of God. It sets up an argument against him — and there can be no more certain proof of a want of perfection than such an attempt. There is in this verse an energy in the original which is very feebly conveyed by our translation. It is tiie language of strong and decided indignation at the very idea of asserting that he was perfect, "^JX Cn — ^perfect I r or, ^ I perfect! The thought is absurd! It can only prove that I am perverse to attempt to set up any such claim!' Stuhlman renders this, myself J However free from guilt, I must call myself and explains it as meaning, ' God can through the punishments which he inflicts constrain me to confess, against the clear consciousness of my innocence, that I am guilty.'
21. Though / were perfect. The same mode of expression occurs here again. 'I perfect! I would not know it, or recognize it. If this were my view, and God judged otherwise, I would seem to be ignorant of it. I would not mention it.' H Yet would I not knoiD my soul. Or, ' I could not know my soul. If I should advance such a claim, it must be from my ignorance of myself.' Is not this true of all the claims to perfection which have ever been set up by man ^ Do they not demonstrate that he is ignorant of his own nature and character.? So clear does this seem to me, that I have no doubt that Job expressed more than three thousand years ago what will be found true to the end of time — that if a man advances the claim to absolute perfection, it is conclusive proof that he does not know his own heart. A superficial view of ourselves, mingled with pride and vanity, may lead us to think that we are wholly free from sin. But who can tell what he would be if placed in other circumstances.'' Who knows what latent depravity would be developed if he were thrown into temptation.s? 11 / icould despise my life. Dr. Good, I think, has well expressed the sense of this. According to his interpretation, it means that the claim of perfection would be in fact disowning all the consciousness which he had of sinfulness; all the arguments and convictions pressed on him by
22 This is one thing, therefore I said it, He " destroyeth the perfect and the wicked.
23 If the scourge slay sud-
his reason and conscience, that he was a guilty man. Schultens, however, has given an interpretation which slightly differs from this, and one which Rosenmiillcr prefers. ' Although I should be wholly conscious of innocence, yet tiuit clear consciousness could not sustain me against the infinite splendor of the divine glory and majesty; but I should be compelled to appear ignorant of my own r.oul, and to reprobate, ccmdemn, and despise my life passed with integrity and virtue.' This interpretation is in accordance with tiie connection, and may be sustained by the Hebrew. 22. This is o?ie tiling, llirrcforc I said it. This may inean, 'it is all the same thing, it makes no diflerence whether a man be righteous or wicked. God treats them substantially alike; he has one and the same rule on the subject. Nothing can be argued certainly about tiie character of a man from the divine dealings with him here.' This was the point in dispute, this the position that Job maintained — that God did not deal with men here in strict accordance with their character, but that the righteous and the wici^ed in this world were afflicted alike. IT He deslroyeth the perfect and the toicked. He makes no distinction among them. Tliat Job was right in this.his main position there can be no doubt; and tlie wonder is, that his friends did not all see it. But it required a long time in the course of events, and much observation and discussion, before tliis important point was made clear. With otir full views of the state of retribution in the future world, we can have no doubt on the subject. Heavy and sudden judgments do not necessarily
denly, he will laugh at the trial of the innocent.
24 The earth is given into the hand of the wicked: he covereth the faces of the judges thereof; if not, where, and who is he?
prove that they who are cut off are peculiarly guilty, and long prosperity is no evidence that a man is holy. Calamity, by fire and flood, on a steamboat, or in the pestilence, does not demonstrate the peculiar and eminent wickedness of those who suffer (comp. Luke xiii. 1-5), nor should those who escape from such calamities infer that of necessity they are the objects of the divine favor.
23. If the scourge slay suddenly. If calamity comes in a sudden and unexpected manner. Dr. Good, following Reiske, translates this, "if he suddenly slay the oppressor," understanding the word scourge (UITIJ) as tneaning an oppressor, or one whom God employs as a scourge of nations. But this is contrary to all the ancient version.?. The word ^1^^ means properly a whip, a scourge (comp. Notes on ch. v. 21), and then calamity or affliction sent by God upon men. Such is clearly the case here. IT He 2ci(l laugh at the trial of the innocent. That is, he seems to disregard or to be pleased with their trials. He does not interpose to rescue them. He seems to look calmly on, and sufiers them to be overwhelmed with others. This is a poetic expression, and cannot mean that God derides the trials of the innocent, or viochs their sufferings. It means tliat he seems to be inattentive to them; he suffers the righteous and the wicked to be swept away together as if he were regardless of character.
24. The earth is given into the hand of the wicked. This is evidently designed as an illustration of the sentiment that Job was maintaining — that there was not a distribution of
25 Now my days are s^vifter I than a post: they flee away, they
rewards and punishments in this life according to character. In illustration of this, he says that the wicked are raised to places of trust and power. They exercise a wide dominion over the earth, and the world is under their control. Of the truth of this there can ho Jio doubt. Rulers have been, in general, eminent for wickedness, and the atfairs of nations have thus far been almost always under the control of those who are strangers to God. At the present time there is scarcely a pious man on any throne in the_ world, and the rulers of even Christian nations are in general eminent for any thing rather than for personal religion. I He covcrcth the faces of the judges thereof There has been considerable variety in the e.xposition of this expression. Some suppose that it ref*:rs to the wicked, meaning that they cover the faces of the judges under them so that they connive at and tolerate crime. Others, that it means that God blinds the eyes of wicked rulers, so that they connive at crime, and are partial and unjust in their decisions. Others, that it means that God covers the faces of the judges oi' the earth with shame and confusion, that though he admits them to prosperity and honor for a time, yet that he overwhelms them at length with calamities and sorrows. Dr. Good supposes it to mean that the earth is given over into the hands of injustice, and that this hoodwinks the faces of the judges. The phrase proj)erIy means, to hoodwink, to blind, to conceal the face. It seems to me that the true sense is not expressed by cither of the views abov<;. The parallelism requires us to understand it as meaning that while the wicked liad dominion over the earth, the righteous were in obscurity, or were not advanced to honor and power. The word ^^ judges," tln?rcfore,I think is to be understood of the righteous judges, of those who arc qualified to administer justice. Their face is covered. They are kept in concealment. The wicked have the sway, and they are doomed to shame, obscurity, and dishonor. This interpretation accords with the tenor of the argument, and may be sustained by the Hebrew^, though I have not found jt in any oi the commentaries which I have consulted. H If not, tchere, and who is he? If this is not a just view, who is God'' What are his dealings.'' Where is he to be seen, and how is he to be known: Or, it may mean, 'if it is not God who does these strange things, who is it that does them V RosemnilUcr. But I prefer the former interpretation. ' Tell me who and what God is, if this is not a fair and just account of him. These things in fact are done, and if the agency of God is not employed in them, who is God? And where is his agency seen.'"
25. JVow my days are swifter than a post. Than a -courier, runner, or racer, Y^. Vulg. cursor e; LXX, doofifojq, a racer. TJie word is not unfrequently applied to the runners or couriers, that carried royal commands in ancient times. It is applied to the mounted couriers of the Persians who carried the royal edicts to the distant provinces, Est. iii. 13,15, xviii. 14, and to the body-guard and royal messengers of Saul and of David, 1 Sam. xxii. 17, 2 Kings x.25. The common rate of travelling in the East is exceedingly slow. The caravans move little more than two miles an hour. Couriers are however employed who go either on dromedaries, on horses, or on foot, and who travel with great rapidity. Lady Montague says that " after the defeat at Peter waradin,they [the couriers on dromedaries] far outran the fleetest horses, and brought the first news of the battle at Belgrade." The messengers in Barbary who carry despatches, it is said, will run one hundred and fifty miles in twenty-four hours (Harmer's Observa. ii. 200, cd. 1808), and it has
26 They are passed away as Ihe ' swift ships; as the eagle \hat hasteth to the prey.
27 If I say, I will forget my
been said that the messengers among the American savages would run an hundred and twenty miles in the twenty-four hours. In Egypt, it is a common thing for an Arab on foot to accompany a rider, and to keep up with the horse when at full gallop, and to do this for a longtime without apparent fatigue. The meaning of Job here is, that his life was short, and that his days were passing swiftly away, not like the slow caravan, but like the most fleet messenger. Comp. Note eh. vii. 6. ^ They see no good. 1 am not permitted to enjoy happiness. My life is a life of misery.
26. They are passed aioay as the swift ships. Marg. Ships of desire; or ships of Ebeh. Heb. nn5< ni'3i<. Vulg. JVaves poma portantes. Sept. "Is there any track left by ships in their passage.?" Tlie Clialdee renders it as the Vulgate, " Ships bearing good fruit j" that is, as such fruit was perishable, haste was required in order to reach the place of destination. Our translators were evidentlv perplexed by the word H^X — ebeh^ as appears by their placing two different phrases in the margin. " Ships of desire," denotes the value or desirableness of such ships; and the phrase, " Ships of Ebeh," denotes their confession of ignorance as to the meaning of the word. Gesenius explains the word to mean reed, bulrush, or papyrus — from an Arabic use of the word, and supposes that the reference is to the light vessels made of the papyrus, which wer5 used on the Nile. See Notes on lea. xviii. 2. Such vessels would be distinguished for the ease with which they might be rowed, and the rapidity of their motion. Chardin
complaint, I will leave off my heaviness, and comfort myself;
28 I am afraid of all my sorrows, I know that thou wilt not hold me innocent.
supposes that the reference is to vessels that were made to go on the Euphrates or the Tigris, and that were borne along with the rapid current. The supposition of an allusion to any boat or vessel under full sail, will be in accordance with the language here, though the probability is, that the reference is to the light vessels, made of reeds, that might be propelled with so much fleetness. Sails were frequently used, also, for such vessels. If Jis the eagle that hasteth to the prey. A.striking emblem of rapidity. Few things can be more rapid than the motion of the eagle, as he darts upon his victim.
27. If I say, I will forget my complaint. If I resolve that I will leave off complaining, and will be more cheerful, I find it all in vain. My fears and sorrows return, and all my efforts to be cheerful are ineffectual. IT I iciU leave off my heaviness. The v/ord rendered " my iieaviness" here (^jQ) denotes literally vny /ace; and the reference is to the sad and sorrowful countenance which he had. " If I should lay that aside, and endeavor to be cheerful." IT ^nd comfort myself. The word rendered comfort here (^?^) in Arabic means to be bright, to shine forth; and it would here be better rendered by brighten up. We have the same expression still when we say to one who is sad and melancholy, ' brighten up; be cheerful.' The meaninj^- here is, that Job endeavored to appear pleasant and cheerful, but it was in vain. His sorrows pressed heavily on him, and weighed down his spirits in spite of himself, and made him sad.
29 If I be wicked, why then labor I in vain?
tinuance of my griefs, and cannot close my eye to them. IT Thou wilt not hold me innocent. God will not ri'inovo my sorrows so as to furnish tlic cvidi-nce that I am innocent. M\ sufferings continue, and with thorn continue all the evidence on which my friends rely that I am a guilty man. In such a state of things, how can I be otherwise than sad.'' He was held to be guilty; he was surtering in such a way as to afford them the proof that he was so, and how could he be cheerful.?
29. If / he icicJccd, why then labor I in rain? The word "if," here introduced by our translators, greatly obscures the sense. The meauing 'jvidently is, ' I am held to be guilty, and cannot answer to that charge. God regards me as such, and if I should attempt to meet him on the charge, it would be a vain attempt; and I must admit its truth. It would be labor in vain to deny it against one so mighty as he is.' This interpretation accords with the argument in the whole chapter. Job maintains that it would be in vain to contend with God, and he gives up the argument in despair. It is quite evident, however, that he does not do it so much because he is convinced iiimself, as because he knows that God is great, and that it would be useless to contend with him. There is evidently implied all along the feeling tliat if he was able to cope with God in the argument, the result would be different. As it is, he submits-r-not hocause he is convinced., but because he is weak; not because he sees that Gud is ri(rht., but because he sees that he is powerful. How much submission f)f this kind is there in the world — submission, not to right., but to power; submission to God, not because he is seen to be wise and good, but because he is seen to be almighty, and it is vain to attempt to oppose
30 If '^ I wash myself with snow water, and make my hands never so clean:
him! It is needless to say that such feelings evince no true submission.
30. If I wash myself vsith snow icater. If I should make myself as pure as possible, and should become, in my view, perfectly holy. Snow water, it seems, was regarded as peculiarly pure. The whiteness of snow itself perhaps suggested the idea that the water of melted snow was better than other for purification. Washing the hands formerly w-as an emblem of cleansing from guilt. Hence Pilate, when he gave up the Saviour to death, took water and washed his hands before the multitude, and said that he was innocent of his blood. Matth. xxvii. 24. The expression here used by Job, also is imitated by the Psalmist, to denote his innocence:
I will wash mine hands in innocency: So will I compass thine altar, O Lord.
Ps. xxvi. 6. Verily I have cleansed my heart in vain, And washed my hands in innocency.
How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands Of this most giievous, guilty murder done!
IT Jind make my hands never so clean. Or, rather, should I cleanse my hands with lye, or alkali. The word 'IS, bor, means properly purity, cleanliness, pureness; and then it is used to denote that which cleanses, alkali, lye, or vegetable salt. The ancients made use of this, mingled with oil, instead of soap, for the purpose of washing, and also in smelting metals, to make them melt more readily. See Notes on Isa. i. 25. The Chaldee renders it accurately, ^^•n^^ — in soap. I have no doubt that this is the sense, and that Job means to say, if he should make use of the purest water and of soap to cleanse himself, still he would be regarded as impure. God would throw him at once into the ditch, and ho
31 Yet slialt thou plunge me in the ditch, and mine own clothes shall ' abhor me.
32 For lie is not a man, as I
1 make vie to be abhorred.
would be covered with moral filth and defilement again in his sight.
31. Yet shalt thou ■plunge me in the ditch. God would treat me as if lie should throw me into the gutter, and as if I were wholly defiled and polluted. The meaning is, God would not admit the proofs which I should adduce of my innocence, but would overwhelm me with the demonstrations of my guilt. I doubt not that Job urged this with some degree of impatience, and with some improper feelings. He felt, evidently, that God was so great and powerful, that it was vain to contend with him. But it is true in a higher and more important sense than he seems to have understood it. After all the efljorts which we can make to justify, vindicate, or purify ourselves, it is in the power of God to overwhelm us with the consciousness of guilt. He has access to the heart. He can show us our past sins. He can recall what we have forgotten, and overwhelm us with the remembrance of our deep depravity. It is in vain, therefore, for any man to attempt to justify himself before God. After the most labored argument to prove his own innocence; after all the confidence which he can repose in his own morality and his own righteousness, still God can with infinite ease overwhelm him with the consciousness of guilt. How many men that were once relying on their own morality for their salvation, have been bowed down with a consciousness of guilt in a revival of religion! How many who have been trusting to their own righteousness have been overwhelmed with deep and awful conviction, when they have been brought to lie on a bed of death! Let no man, therefore, rely on his own righteousness, when God accuses
am, that I should answer him, and we should come together in judgment.
33 Neither is there ^
2 one that should aro-ue.
him with being a sinner. Let no one trust to his own morality for salvation— for soon it will all be seen to be insufficient, and the soul must appear covered over with the consciousness of guilt at the awful bar of God. IT Jlnd mine own clothes shall ahUor me. Marg. Make me to he abhorred. That is, they shall be filthy and ofixMisive — like one who has been rolled in the mire. God has power to make me seem defiled and loathsome, notwithstanding all my efforts to cleanse myself.
32. For he is not a man as 1 am. He is infinitely superior to me in majesty and power. The idea is, that the contest would be unequal, and that he might as well surrender without bringing the matter to an issue. It is evident that the disposition of Job to yield, was rather because he saw that God was superior in power than because he saw that he was right., and that he felt that if h« had ability to manage the cause as well as God could, the matter would not be so niuch against him as it was then. Tiiat there was no little impropriety of feeling in this, no one* can doubt; but have ice never had feelings like this when we have been afflicted ^ Have we never submitted to God because we felt that he was Almighty, and that it was vain to contend with him, rather than because he was seen to be right? True submission is always accompanied with the belief that God is right — whether we can see him to be riglit or not. IT And ice should come together in judgment. For trial, to have tJie case adjudicated. That is, that we should meet face to face, and have the cause tried before a superior judge. jXoyes.
34 Let him
■pire. The word daysman \n Ev\gfish means " an umpire or arbiter, a iator." Webster. Why such a illed a daysman I do not know. TJic Hebrew word rendered daysman {TT'"^) is from T^T,, not used in Kal, to be before, in front of; and then to appear, to be clear, or manifest; and in Hiphil, to cause to be manifest, to argue, prove, convince; and then to argue down, to confute, reprove. See the word used in ch. vi. 25: " What doth your arguing reprove.^" It then means to make a cause clear, to judge, determine, decide, as an arbiter, umpire, judge, Isa. xi. 3. Gen. xxxi. 37. Jerome renders it, " Non est qui utrumque valeat arguere." The LXX, " if there were, or, O that there were a mediator (o /<?oYr//?), and a reprover {y.al i}.f'yXo)t'), and one to hear us both " ^xal diay.nvoji' avaiiiaor aiKpoxfQwp). The word as used by Job does not mean mediator, but arbiter^ umpire, or jud<re; one before whom the cause miglit be tried, who could lay the hand of restraint on either party, who could confine the pleadings within proper bounds, wlio could preserve the parties within the limits of order and propriety, and who had power to determine the question at issue. Job complains that there could be no such tribunal. He feels that God was so great that the cause could be referred to no other, and that he had no prospect of success in the unequal contest. It does not appear, therefore, that he desired a mediator, in the sense in which we understand that word — one who shall come between us and God, and manage our cause before him, and be our advocate at his bar. He rather says that there was no one above (iod, or no umpire uninterested in the controversy, before whom the cause could be argued, and who would be rompctent to decide take * his rod and let not his fear terrify me; the matter in issue between him and his Maker. He had no hope, therefore, in a cause where one of the parties was to be the judge, and where that party was omnipotent; and he must give up the cause in despair. It is not with strict propriety that this language is ever applied to the Lord Jesus, the great Mediator between God and man. He is not an umpire to settle a dispute, in the sense in which Job understood it; he is not an arbiter, to whom the cause in dispute between man and his Maker is to be referred; he is not a judge to listen to the arguments of the respective parties, and to decide the controversy. He is a mediator between us and God, to make it proper or possible that God should be reconciled to the guilty, and to propose to man the terms of reconciliation; to plead our cause before God, and to communicate to us the favors which he proposes to bestow on man. H That might lay his hand npon vs both. It is not improbable that this may refer to some ancient ceremony in courts where, for some cause, the umpire or arbiter laid his hand on both the parties. Or, it may mean merely that the umpire had the power of control over both the parties; that it was his office to restrain them within proper limits, to check any improper expressions, and to see that the argument was fairly conducted on both sides. The meaning of the whole here is, that if there were such an umpire. Job would be willing to argue the cause. As it was, it was a hopeless thing, and he could do nothing more than to be silent. That there was irreverence in this language must^be admitted; but it is language taken from courts of law, and the substance of it is, that Job could not hope to maintain his cause befoie one so great and powerful as God.
34. Let him tiikc his rod away
35 Then would I speak, and
1 lam not so with myself.
from me. Let him suspend my sufferings, and let us come together on equal terms. His terror now is upon me, and I can do nothing. I am oppressed, and broken down, and crushed under his hand, and I could not hope to maintain my cause with any degree of success. If my sufferings were lightened, and I could approach the question with the vigor of health and the power of reasoning unweakened by calamity, 1 could then do justice to the views which I entertain. Now there would be obvious disparity, while one of the parties has crushed and enervated the other by the mere exercise of power. 35. Then would I sjjeak, and not fear him. I should then be able to maintain mj^ cause on equal terms, and with equal advantages. U But it is not so icith me. Marg. / am riot so icith myself. Noyes, " T am not so at heart." Good, " but not thus could I in my present state." Literally, ' for not thus I with myself The Syriac renders it, " for neither am I his adversary." Very various interpretations have been given of this phrase. The Jews, with Aben Ezra, suppose it means, ' for I am not such as you suppose me to be. You take me to be a guilty man; but I am innocent, and if I had a fair opportunity for trial, I could show that I am.' Others suppose it to mean, ' I am held to be guilty by the Most High, and am treated accordingly. But I am not so. I am conscious to myself that I am innocent.' It seems to me that Dr. Good has conio nearer the true sense than
not fear him: but ' it is not so with me.
any other interpreter, and certainly his exposition accords with the con nection. According to this the meaning is, ' I am not able thus to vindicate myself in my present circumstances. I am oppressed and crushed benerfth a load of calamities. But if these were removed, and if I had a fair opportunity of trial, then I could so state my cause as to make it appear 10 be just.' In this whole chapter, ihere is evidently much insubmission and improper feeling. Job submits to power, not to truth and right. He sees and admits that God is ahle to overwhelm him, but he does not seem disposed to admit that he is right in doing it. He supposes that if he had a fair and full opportunity of trial, he could make his cause good, and that it would be seen that he did not deserve his heavy calamities. There is much of this kind of submission to God even among good people. It is submission because they cannot help it, not because they see the divine dealings to be right. There is nothing cheerful or confiding about it. There is often a secret feeling in the heart that the sufferings are beyond the deserts, and that if the case could be fairly tried, the dealings of God would be found to be harsh and severe. Let us not blame Job for his impatience and irreverent language, until we have carefully examined our own hearts in the times of trial like those which he endured. Let us not infer that he was worse than other men, until we are placed in similar circumstances, and are able to manifest better feelings than he did.
MY soul is ' weary of my life; I will leave my complaint 111)011 myself; I will speak in the bitterness of my soul.
2 I will say unto God, Do not " condemn me; show me
1. Mij soul is weary of viy lij'i. Coinp. Notes on ch. vii. 16. The margin here is, Or, cut off while I lire. Tlie meaning in the margin is in accordance with the interpretation of Schultens. The Chaldee also renders it in a similar way: ^"U*P^ "^-'S: — my soul is cut off. But the more correct interpretation is that in our common version; and the sense is, that his soul, i. e. that he himself was disgusted with life. It was a weary burden, and he w-ishcd to die. IT 1 will leave my complaint -upon myself. Noyes, " I will give niy.-^clf up to complaint." Dr. Good, "I will let loose from myself my dark thoughts." The literal sense is, 'I will leave complaint upon myself;' that is, I will give way to it; I will not restrain it. Comp. ch. vii. 11. TI I icill speak in the bitterness of my soul. See Notes, ch. vii. 11.
2. / tcill say unto God., Do not condemn me. Do not hold me to be wicked — "^S^^^lli^ri PX. The sense is, 'Do not simply hold me to be wicked, and treat me as such, without showing me the reasons why I am so regarded.' Thin was the ground of Job'.s complaint, that God by mere sovcriiignty and jjower held him to be a wicked man, and that he did not Bee tlie reasons why he was so considered and treated, lie now desired to know in what ho had oflended, and to be made actpiainti'd with the cause of his sufhriiigs. The idea is, that it was unjust to treat one as guilty who Jiad no opportunity of knowing the nature of the offence
3 Is it good unto thee that thou shouldest oppress, that thou shouldest despise the '^work oi thine hands, and shine upon the counsel of the wicked?
3. Is it good unto thee that thou shouldest oppress. The sense of this is, that it could not be with God a matter of personal gratification to inflict pain wantonly. There must be a reason why he did it. This was clear to Job, and he was anxious, therefore, to know the reason why he was treated in this manner. Yet there is evidently here not a little of the spirit of complaining. There is an insinuation that God was afflicting him beyond what he deserved. See ver. 7. The state of his mind appears have been this: he is conscious to himself that he is a sincere friend of God, and he is unwilling to believe that God can wantonly inflict pain — and yet he has no other way of accounting for it. He is in a sort driven to this painful conclusion — and he asks with deep feeling, whether it can be so.'' Is there no other solution than this ^ Is there no way of explaining the fact that he suffers so much, than either the supposition that he is a hypocrite — which he feels assured he is not; or that God took a wanton pleasure in inflicting pain — which he was as little disposed to believe, if he could avoid it ^ Yet his mind rather verges to this latter belief, for he seems more disposed to believe that God was severe than that he himself was a hypocrite and a wicked man. Neither of these conclusions was necessary. If he had taken a middle ground, and had adverted to the fact that God might
4 Hast thou eyes of flesh? or * seest thou as man seeth?
5 A?^e thy days as the days of man? are thy years as man's days,
6 That ^ thou inquirest after
tii.o mystery would have been solved. He could have retained the consciousuess of his integrity, and at the same time his confidence in God. H T/iat thou siiouldcst despise the work of thine hands. Marg. labor. That is, despise man, or treat him as if he were of no value. The idea is, that it would be natural for God to love his own work, and tliat his treatment of Job seemed as if he regarded his own workmanship— man — as of no value. M And shine upon the counsel of the laickcd. By giving them health and prosper-
4. Hast thou eyes oj^ flesh? Eyes like man. Dost thou look upon man with the same disposition to discern faults; the same uncharitableness and inclination to construe every thing in the severest manner possible, which characterizes man.^ Possibly Job may have reference here to the harsh judgment of his friends, and means to ask whether it could be possible for G(nl to evince the same feelings in judging of him which they had done.
5. Are thy days as the days of man? Does thy life pass on like that of man.'' Dost thou expect soon to die, that thou dost pursue me in this manner, searching out my sins, and afflicting me as if there were no time to lose? The idea is, that God seemed to press this matter as if he wnre soon to cease to exist, and as if there were no time to spare in accomplisliing it. His strokes were unintermitted, as if it were necessary that the work should be done soon, and aa if no respite could be given ^ov a full and fair development of the real character of the sufferer. The whole passage (ver. 4-7) expresses the settled conviction of Job that God could not resemble man. Man
7 ' Thou knowest "^ that I am not wicked; and there is none that can deliver out of thine hand.
was short-lived, fickle, blind; he was incapable, from the brevity of his existence, and from his imperfections, of judging correctly of the character of others. But it could not be so with God. He was eternal. He knew the heart. He saw every thing as it was. Why, then. Job asks v/ith deep feeling, did he deal v\ith him as if he were influenced by the methods ofjudgment which were inseparable from the condition of imperfect and dying man.''
6. That thou inquirest after mine iniquity. Art thou governed by human passions and prejudices, that thou dost thus seem to search out every little obliquity and error.-' Job here evidently refers to the conduct of man in strictly marking faults, and in being unwilling to forgive; and he asks whether it is possible that God could be governed by such feelings as these.
7. Thou knov)est that I am not wicked. That is, that I am not a hypocrite, or an impenitent sinner. Job did not claim perfection (see Notes on ch. ix. 20), but he maintained through all this argument that he was not a \vicked man, in the sense in which his friends regarded him as such, and for the truth of this he could boldly appeal to God. The margin is, ' It is upon thy knoidcdge.' This is a literal translation of the Hebrew, but the sense is well expressed in the text. The meaning of the verse is, ' Why dost thou thus afflict mc, when thou knowest that I am not wicked? Why am I treated as if I were the worst of men? Why is occasion thus furnished for my friends to construct an argument as if I were a man of singular depravity?' IT There is none that can dclirc out of
8 Thine hands Miave made me, and fashioned me together
thine hand. I have no power lo release myself. Job felt that God had allu'ijrhty power; and he seems to have fvh that his suftcrings were rather the simple exertion of power, than the exercise of justice. It was this tiiat laid the foundation for his complaint.
8. Thine hands have made me. Job proceeds now to state that he had been made by God, and that he had shown great skill and pains in his formation. He argues that it would seem like caprice to take such pains, and to exercise such amazing wisdom and care in forming him, and then, on a sudden, and without cause, dash hi.«^ own work to pieces. Who makes a beautiful vase only to be destroyed? Who moulds a statue from marble only to break it to pieces.? Who builds a splendid edifice only to pull it down? Who plants a rare and precious flower only to have the pleasure of plucking it up? The statement in ver. 8-12, is not only beautiful and forcible as an argument, but is peculiarly interesting and valuable, as it may be presumed to embody the views in the patriarchal age about the formation and the laws of the iiuman frame. No inconsiderable j)art of the value of the book of Job, as was remarked in the Introduction, arises from the incidental notices of the sciences a.s they prevailed at the time when it was composed. If it is the oldest book in the world, it is an invaluable record on these points. The expression, " thine hands have made me," is in the margin, ' took jtuins about vie.' Dr. Good renders it, " have wrought me;" Noyes, " completely fashioned me;" Roscnmnller explains it to mean, "have formed me with the highest diligence and care." Schultens renders it, Manus tiitc nervis colligarunt — "thy liands have bound me with nerves or sitiewH;" and ajjpcals to the use of the Arabic ui» autJiority for this
"J^^^ atzaha, denotes 'the body united and bound in a beautiful form by nerves and tendons;' and that the idea here is, that God had so constructed the human frame. The Hebrew word here used (-^^') means properly to work, form, fashion. The primary idea,.according to Gesenius, is, that of cutting, both wood and stone, and hence t^o cut or carve with a view to the forming of an image. The verb also has the idea of labor, pain, travail, grief; perhaps from the labor of cutting or carving a stone or a block of wood. Hence it means, in Piel, to form or fashion, with the idea of labor or toil; and the sense here is undoubtedly, that God had elaborated the bodies of men with care and skill, like that bestowed on a carved image or statue. The margin expresses the idea not badly — took pains about me. '^ And fashioned me. Made me. The Hebrew here means simply to make. 1[ Together round about. ^S'^^O '^r^^ Vulg. totum in circuitu. Sept. simply, " made me." Dr. Good, "moulded me compact on all sides." The word ^'n'2 rendered "together," has the notion of oneness, or union. It may refer to the oneness of the man — the making of one from the apparently discordant m.aterials, and the compact form in which tsJie body, though composed of bones, and sinews, and blood-vessels, is constructed. A similar idea is expressed by Lucretius, as quoted by Schultens. Lib. iii. 358:
TI Yet thon dost destroy me. Notwithstanding I am thus made, yet thou art taking down my frame, as if it were of no consequence, and formed with no care.
9 Remember, I beseech thee, that thou hast made me as the clay; " and wilt thou bring me into dust again 1
9. Remember, I beseech thee, that thou hast made me as the claij. Tliere is evident allusion here to the creation of man, and to the fact that he was moulded from the dust of the earth — a fiict which would he preserved hy tradition. See Genii. 7. The fact that God had moulded the human form as the potter moulds the clay, is one tiiat is oflen referred to in the Scriptures. Comp. Rom ix. 20,21. The object of Job in this is, probably, to recall the fact that God, out of clay, had formed the noble structure, vian, and to ask whether it was his intention to reduce tliat structure again to its former worthless condition — to destroy its beauty, and to efface the remembrance of his workmanship? Was it becoming God thus to blot out every memorial of his own power and skill in moulding the human frame.''
10. Hast thou not poured me out as milk? The whole image in this verse and the following, is designed to -furnish an illustration of the origin and growth of the human frame. The Note of Dr. Good may be transcribed, as furnishing an illustratiou of what may have possibly been the meaning of Job. "The whole of the simile is highly correct and beautiful, and has not been neglected by the best poets of Greece and Rome. From the well-tempered or mingled milk of the chyle, every individual atom of every individual organ in the human frame, the most compact and consolidated, as well as the soft and pliable, is perpetually supplied and renewed, through the medium of a system of lacteals or viilk-vessels, astliey are usually called in anatomy, from the nature of this common chyle or milk which they circulate. Into the delicate stomach of the infant it is introduced in the
out as milk, and curdled me like cheese?
11 Thou * hast clothed me with skin and flesh, and hast ' fenced me with bones and sinews.
f jrm of milk; but T?ven in the adult it must be reduced to some such form, whatever be the substance he feed upon, by the conjoint action of the stomach and other chylifactive organs, before it can become the basis of animal nutriment. It then circulates through the system, and either continues fluid as milk in its simple state, or is rendered solid as milk is in its caseus or cheese-state, according to the nature of the organ which it supplies with its vital current." True as this is, however, as a matter of physiology, now well understood, a doubt may arise whether Job was acquainted with the method thus described, in which man is sustained. The idea of Job is, that God was the author of the human frame, and that that frame was so formed as to evince his wonderful and incomprehensible wisdom. A consultation of the works on physiology, which explain the facts about the formation and the growth of the human body, will shov/ that there are few things which more strikingly evince the wisdom of God than the formation of the human frame, alike at its origin, and in every stage of its development. It is a subject, however, which cannot, with propriety, be pursued in a work of this kind.
11. Thou hast clothed me with skin and flesh. This refers, undoubtedly, to the formation of man in his foetal existence, and is designed to denote that the whole organization of the human frame, was to be traced to God. Grotius remarks that this is the order in w^hich the infant is formed — that the skin appears first, then the flesh, then the harder parts of the fra^e. On this subject, the reader may consult Dunglison's Physiology, vol. ii. p. 340, seq. TI Jndhnsi
12 Thou hast granted me life and favor, and thy visitation hath preserved my spirit.
13 And these things hast thou
fenced me. Marg. Hedged. Literally, Ilast covered inc. The sense is plain. God had formed him as he was, and to him lie owed his life, and all that he had. Job asks with the deepest interest whether God would take down a frame formed in this manner, and reduce it again to dust? Would it not be more for his honor to preserve it still — at least to the common limit of human life?
12. Thy visitation hath preserved my spirit. Thy constant care; thy watchful providence; thy superintendence. The word rendered visitation (iTni^E) means properly the mustering of an army, the care that is manifested in looking after those who are enlisted; and then denotes care, vigilance, providence, custody, watch. The idea is, that God had watched over him and preserved him, and that to his constant vigilance he owed the preservation of his life.
13. Jind these things hast thou hid in thine heart. This may either refer to tlie arrangements by which God had made him, or to the calamities wJiich he had brought upon him. Most expositors suppose that the latter is intended. Such is the opinion of RosenmUller, Good, Noyes, and Scott. According to this the idea is, that God had purposed in his heart to bring these calamities upon him. They were a part of his counsel and design. To hide in the heart, or to lay up in the heart, is a phrase expressive of a secret purpose. I see no reason to confine it, however, to the calamities which Job had experienced. It may refer to all the plans and df)ings of the JMost High, to which Job had just referred. Mlh'is acts in the creation and preservation of man, were a part of his secret counsel. He had formed the plan in his heart, and was now executing it in the various dispensations of his
hid in thine heart: I know that this is with thee.
14 If I sin, then thou markest me, and thou wilt not acquit me
providence. IT / know that this is with thee. That all this is a part of tliy purpose. It has rts origin in thee, and is according to thy counsel. This is the language of piety, recognizing the great truth that all things are in accordance with the purposes of God, or that his plans embrace al! events — a doctrine which Job most assuredly held.
^ 14. If I sin. The object of this verse and the following is, evidently, to say that he was wholly perplexed. He did not know how to act. He could not understand tJie reason of the divine dealings, and he was wholly unable to explain them, and hence he did not know how to act in a proper manner. It is expressive of a state of mind where the individual tvishes to think and feel right, but where he finds so much to perplex him, that he docs not know what to do. Job w^as sure that his friends were not right in the position which they maintained — that he was a sinner of enormous character, and that his sufi^erings were proof of this, and yet he did not know how to answer their arguments. He desired to have confidence in God, and yet he knew not how to reconcile his dealings with his sense of right. He felt thai he was a friend of God, and he did not know why he should visit one who had this consciousness in this distressing and painful manner. His mind was perplexed, vacillating, embarrassed, and he did not know what to do or say. The truth in this whole argument was, that he was more often rightthan hisfricnds. but that he, in common with them, had embraced some principles which he was compelled to admit to be true, or which he could not demonstrate to be false, which gave them greatly the advantage in the argument, and which they pressed upon him now with over-
'15 If I be wicked, woe " unto me; and if I be righteous, yet will I not lift up my head. I am
whelming force. IT Then thou markest me. Dost carefully observe every fault. JVhy he did tiiis, Job could not see. The same difficuhy he expressed in eh. vii. 17-19. See the Notes on that place. IT And wilt not acquit wfi. Wilt not pardon me. Job did not understand why God would not do this. It was exceedingly perplexing to him that God held him to be guilty, and would not pardon him if he had sinned. The same perplexity he expressed in ch. vii. 21. See Notes on that verse.
15. If I he icicked^ woe unto me. The meaning of this in this connection is, '1 am full of perplexity and sorrow. Whether I am wicked or righteous, I find no comfort. Whatever is my character, my efforts to be happy are unavailing, and my mind is full of anguish. Wo follows if I have been guilty of sin; and if I am not a sinful man, I am equally incapable of enjoyment. In every way I am doomed to wretchedness.' 1] And \^ I Ic righteous, yet will I not lift up my head. That is, with confidence and cheerfulness. The meaning is, that though he was conscious that he was not a hypocrite, yet he did not know v^^hat to do. God treated him as if he were wicked, and his friends regarded him as such, and he was overwhelmed with the perplexities of his situation. He could not lift up his head with confidence, though he was certain that he was not a sinner in the sense in which they charged him with being such; and yet since he was treated by God in a manner so similar to the mode in which the wicked are treated, ho felt ashamed and confounded. Who has not felt the same thing? Who has not experienced a sense of shame and mortification at being sick, — a proof of guilt, and an full of confusion; therefore see thou mine affliction;
16 For it increaseth. Thou huntest me as a fierce lion; '' and
expression of the hatred of God against sin? Who has not felt humbled that he must die, as the most vile of the race must die, and that his body must become the " prev of corruption" and "the banquet of worms," as a demonstration of guilt.? Such humiliation Job experienced. He was treated as if he were the vilest of sinners. He endured from God sufferings such as they endure. He was so regarded by his friends. He felt humbled and mortified that he was brought into this situation, and was ashamed that he could not meet the arguments of his friends. H I am full of confusion. Shame, ignominy, distress, and perplexity. On every side there was embarrass ment, and he knew not what to do. His friends regarded him as vile, and he could not but admit that he was so treated by God. TI Therefore, see thou mine affliction. The word rendered here "5€e" ('^'v?*') in the imperative, RosenmUiler, Gesenius, and others suppose should be regarded as in the infinitive absolute, the finite verb being undi^stood; ' seeing I see my afiliction, that is, I certainly see it. So the Chaldee and the Syriac render it, and this agrees better with the connection of the passage. ' I see the depth of my affliction. I cannot hide it from myself. I see, and must admit, that God treats me as if I were a sinner, and I am greatly perplexed and embarrassed by that fact. My mind is in confusion, and I know not what to say.'
15. For it increaseth. Our translators understand this as meaning that the calamities of Job, so far from becoming less, were constantly increasing, and thus augmenting his perplexity and embarrassment. But a somewhat diflerent explanation ia riven to it by many interpreters. The word rendered "increascth" (nxa) means properly to lift up, to lif\\Ip one's self, to rise; and Geseniiis supposes that it refers here to the head, and that the meaning is, ' if it lift up itself (so. my head), thou huntcst me as a lion.' It cannot be denied that the notion of pride, elation, haughtir ""ss, is usually connected with the use of the word, but it is not necessary here to depart from the common interpretation, meaning that the increase of his affliction greatly augmented his perplexity. Jerome, however, renders it, " and on account of pride, thou dost seize me as a lioness." The idea is, ' my affliction, as it were, exalts itself, or, becomes more and more prominent.' This is a better interpretation than to refer it to the raising up of his head. IT Thou hunttst vie as a fierce lion. On the meaning of the word here rendered " fierce lion " (^HT!^, shd- /j/ta/), see Notes on ch. iv. 10. The sense here is, that God hunted or followed him as a fien e lion pursued his prey. H ^'Ind again thou showest thyself marvellous. Or rather, ' thou turnest, and art wonderful towards me.' The meaninjj is, that he did not at once spring upon his prey and then leave it, but he came back as if it had not been put to death when first seized, as if a lion should come back and torture his victim again. The meaning of the phrase, "showest thyself marvellous " is, that the dealings of God towards him were wonderful. They were wholly incomprehensible. He had no means of finding out the reasons of liis doings. On the word here used, comp. Notes on Isa. ix. 6.
nesses against me. and increasest thine indignation upon me; changes and war are against me.
newing against mc my examination," Tr]v traafv [(ov. Rabbi Levi supposes that the plague of the leprosy is intended. But the true meaning seems to be, that God sent upon him calamities which were regarded by his friends as proofs or tcitnesses that he was v/icked, the public and solemn attestation of God, as they supposed, to the truth that he was eminently a bad man. New proofs of this kind were constantly occurring in his augmenting and protracted sorrows, and he could not answer the arguments which were brought from them by his friends. IT Changes and 2oar are against me. Or rather, are with me, "^^55. There were with him such reverses of condition as laid the foundation for the argument which they had urged v/ith so much pertinacity and force that he was punished by God. The word rendered changes (^niB'^pnj means properly changes, or exchanges, and is applied to garments, 2 Kings v. 5. xxii. 23. Ic may be used also of soldiers keeping watch until they are relieved by a succeeding guard. See Note on ch. xiv. 14. Here it is not improbably employed in the sense o^ a. succession of attacks made on him. One succeeds another, as if platoon after platoon, to use the modern terms, oi phalanx after phalanx, should come up against him. As soon as one had discharged its arrows, another succeeded in its place; or as soon as one became exhausted, it was followed by a fresh recruit. All this Job could not endure. The succession wearied him and he could not bear it. Dr. Good supposes that the word refers to the skirmishes by which a battle is usually introduced, in which two armies attempt to gall each other before they are engaged. But the true idea, as it seems to me, is, that afflictions succeeded each other as soldiers
18 Wherefore then hast thou brought me forth out of the womb? Oh '^ that I had given up the ghost, and no eye had seen me!
19 I should have been as
on a watch, or in a battle, relieve each other. When one set is exhausted on duty, it is succeeded by another. Or, when in battle one company has discharged its weapons, or is exhausted, it is succeeded by those who are brought fresh into the field. The word rendered "war" (xn^j) properly means an army or a host. See Note ch. vii. 1. Here it means that a whole host had rushed upon him. Not only had he been galled by the successioti, the reliefguard of calamities, the attacks which had followed each other from an advanced guard, or from scouts sent out to skirmish, but the zchole army was upon him. A whole host of calamities came rushing upon him alone, and he could not endure them.
18. Wherefore then hast thou brought me forth. See Notes on ch. iii. 11.
19. I should hare been carried from the icomh to the grave. See Notes on ch. iii. 16.
20. Are not my days fete? My life is short, and hastens to a close. Let not then my afflictions be continued to the last moment of life, but let thine hand be removed, that I may enjoy some rest before I go hence to return no more. This is an address to God, and the meaning is, that as life was necessarily 50 short, he asked to be permitted to enjoy soine comfort before he should go to the land of darkness and of death. Comp. Note on ch. vii. 21. A somewhat similar expression occurs in Ps. xxxix. 13:
0 spare me, that I may recover strength, Before I go hence, and be no more.
21. Before I go whence I shall not return. To the grave, to the land of ahades, to
though I had not been, I should have been carried from the womb to the grave.
20 Are not my days few 1 * cease then, and let me alone, that I may take comfort a little,
21 Before I go whence I shall
TT To the land of darkness. Thi.s passage is important as furnishing an illustration of what was early understood about the regions of the dead. The essential idea here is, that it was a land o? darkness, of total and absolute night. This idea Job presents in a great variety of forms and phrases. He amplifies it, and uses apparently all the epithets which he can command to represent the utter and entire darkness of the place The place referred to is not the grave, but the region beyond, the abode of departed spirits, the Hades of the ancients; and the idea here is, that it is a place where not a clear ray of light ever shines. That this was a common opinion of the ancients in regard to the world of departed spirits, is well known. Virgil thus speaks of those gloomy regions:
Et Cliaos, et Phlegethon, loca nocte silentia Sitmihi fas audita loqui; sit numine vestro Paudere res alia teira et caligine mersas. Ibant obscuri sola sub nocte per umbram, Porque domos Ditis vacuas, et inania regna. Q.uale per incerta Lunam sub luce maligna^ Est iter In sylvis; ubi caelum condidit umbra Jupiter, et rebus nox abstulit atia colorera. ^n. vi. 259, seq.
A similar view of Hades was held by the Greeks. Thus Theognis, 1007:
There is nowhere to be found, however, a description which for intensity and emphasis of expression surpasses this of Job. H Shadow of death. See this phrase explained in the Note on ch. iii. 5.
not return, even to the land " of darkness and the '' shadow of death;
22. Ji land of darkness. The word here used ("^^25.') is different from that rendered darkness ("^.H) in the previous verse. That is the common word to denote darkness; this seldom occurs. It is derived from fi^^J, to fly; and th en to cover as with wings; and hence the noun means that which is shaded or dark. Amos iv. 13. Comp. Job xi. 17. Isa. viii. 22, ix. 1. II jJs darkness itself. This is still another word ('S^*) though in our common version but one term is used. We have not the means in our language of marking different degrees of obscurity with the accuracy with which the Hebrews did it. The word here used (^si<) denotes a thick darkness — such as exists when the sun is set — from ^^^, to go down, to set. It is poetic, and is used to denote intense and deep darkness. See ch. iii. 6. IT And of the shadoic of death. I would prefer reading this as connected with the previous word — ' the deep darkness of the shadow of death.' The Hebrew will bear this, and indeed it is the obvious construction. 1[ Without any order. The word rendered order (D'^'l'lG) is in the plural. It is from ^"^O, obsolete, to place in a row or order, to arrange. The meaning is, that every thing was mingled together as in chaos, and all was confusion. Milton has used similar language:
darkness itself; and of the shadow of death, without any order, and tohere the light is as dark ness,
Ovid uses similar language in speaking of chaos: " Unus chaos, rudis indigestaque moles." IT Jlnd where the light is as darkness. This is ^ very striking and graphic expression. It means that there is no pure and clear light. Even all the light that shines there is dark, sombre, gloomy — like the little light of a total eclipse, which seems to be darkness itself, and which only serves to render the darkness more distressing. Compare Milton:
" A dungeon horrible on all sides round, As one great furnace flamed, yet fi-om those flames JVo light j but rather darkness visible Served only to discover sights of woe." Par. Lost, I.
The Hebrew here literally is, ' And it shines forth (i'SPil) as darkness;' i. e. the very shining of the light there, if there is any, is like darkness! Such was the view of Job of the abodes of the dead — even of the pious dead. I^Io wonder he shrank back from it, and wished to live. Such is the prospect of the grave to man, till Christianity comes and reveals a brighter world beyond the grave — a world that is all light. That darkness is now scattered. A clear light shines even around the grave, and beyond there is a world where all is light, and where " there is no night," and where all is one bright eternal day. Rev. xxi. 23, xxii. 5, O had Job been favored with these views of heaven, he would not have thus feared to die!
This chapter contains the first speech of Zophar. In regard to th's person, see Note on ch. ij. 1 1. It is generally agreed that he has less ability, gentleness, and refinement than either of the other speakers. The Editor of the Pictorial Bible snys, " Zophar seems inferior even toBildad in discernment, temper, and chaiitable consideration." Jahn says, ' His first address is characterized by rusticity, his second adds but little to the first, and in the third dialogue he has no reply to make." Hales says, "He, without any reserve, taxes Job openly with loquacity, arrogance, and iniquity, and as justly punished for his sins; and exhorts him to repentance as the only means of recovering his prosperity." Analy. vol. ii. p 70. Rosenmiiller characterizes him as ceteris immodestior et inhumanior. I do not see the evidence, however, unless it be in the commencement of his discourse, that he is more rude and severe than Eliphaz or Biidad. Like them, he takes it for granted that Job had sinned, and assures iiim that if he would return to God, he should have prosperity and happiness again. This is the current strain of all their speeches; and in this they all agree. All are severe in their remarks, and it may be admitted that Zophat is much less argumentative than Eliphaz, and that his speeches are in fact little more than a repetition of what his friends had before said.
I. He accuses Job of garrulity, of arrogance, and of impiety, in maintaining his own innocence in the circumstances in which he then was. The frroiind of this was that Job maintained his innocence, and held that he was pure in the sight of God, vs. 1-4.
II. He says that he wishes that God would speak to Job and acquaint him with his estimate of what he was. He aflSrms that God exacted of him less than his iniquity deserved; and then goes into a sublime description of God, as vast, and as unfathomable in his counsels and plans. He declares not only that God is ffreat, but that ho knows the heart of man, and knows exactly what he deserves, I\Ian, he says, however, would arraign the divine counsels and plans, though he was born like a wild ass's colt. Zophar does not attempt to explain the equity of the divino dealings, but he dwells on the greatness and the sovereignty of God, and on the duty of man to submit with humility, vs. 5-12.
III. He assures Job that if he w^ould repent and turn to God, he should be prospered again He would forget his misery; his age would be clear as noonday; he would lie down in safety, and would again become an honored and respected man. If he persevered in his wickedness, however, he must expect to be destroyed, for that was the lot of all the wicked, vs. 13-20.
It cannot be denied that there was much that was unkind in this speech, and much that Job would feel keenly. To assume that a man is wicked; that he is a hypocrite and abandoned by God, and then to exhort him as if it were so, and as if it did not admit a moment's debate or excite a doubt in the mind of the speaker, is a mode of address that will find its way to the heart of any man Job felt it, as who would not.' Yet this was the error of a'J the friends of Job, and in a particular manner that of Zophar. To sit and hear this vv-as one of the severe trials of that much afflicted patriarch, and if he answered occasionally with severity and sarcasm wo must remember what human nature is, and think of the severity of the provocation before wo severely censure him.
T^HEN answered Zophar the -^ Naamathite, and said, 2 Should not the multitude of
2. Should not the multitude of words be ansioered? As if all that Job had said had been mere words; or as if he was remarkable for mere garrulity. H And should a man full of talk he justified? Marg. as in Heb. of lips. The phrase is evidently a Hebraism, to denote a great talker — a man of mere lips, or empty sound. Zophar asks whether such a man could be justified or vindicated. It will be recollected that taciturnity was with words be ° answered 1 and should a man ^ full of talk be justified 1 the Orientals a much greater virtue than with us, and that it was regarded as one of the proofs of wisdom. The wise man with them was he who sat down at the feet of age, and desired to learn; who carefully collected the maxims of former times; who diligently observed the course of events; and who deliberated with care on what others had to say. Thus Solomon says, " In the multitude ot words there wanteth not sin: but he
3 Sliould thy ' lies make men hold their peace? and when thou mockest, shall no man make tliee ashamed?
that refraineth his lips is wise." Prov. X. 19. So James (i. 19), "let cver)^ man be swift to hear, slow to speak." It was supposed that a man who said much would say some foolish or improper things, and hence it was regarded as a proof of prudence to bo distinguished for silence. In Oriental countries, and it may be added also, in all countries that we regard as uncivilized, it is unusual and disrespectful to be hasty in offering counsel, to be forward to speak, or to be confident and bold in opinion. See Notes on ch. xxxii. 6, 7. It was for reasons such as these that Zophar maintained that a man who was full of talk could not bo justified in it; that there was presumptive proof that he was not a safe man, or a man who could be vindicated in all that he said. 3. Should thy lies. Marg. devices. RosenmUller renders this, " should men bear thy boastings with silence.''" Dr. Good, " before thee would mankind keep silence.?" Vulg. tibi soli tacehunt homines? " Shall men be silent before thee alone V The LXX render the whole passage, " he who speaketh much should also hear in turn; else the fine speaker {ivlaXaq) thinketh himself just. — Blessed be the short-lived offspring of woman. Be not profuse of words, for there is no one that judges against thoe, and do not say that I am pure in works and blameless before him." How this was made out of the Hebrow, or what is its exact sense, I am tjnable to say. There can be no doubt, I think, that our present translation is altogether too harsh, and that Zophar by no means designs to charge Job with uttering livs. The Hebrew "word commonly used for /ie5, is wholly difterent from tliat which is used here. The word here ("^S) denotes properly separation; then a ■part; and in various
4 For " thou hast said, My doctrine is pure, and I am clean in thine eyes.
combinations as a preposition, alone., separate., besides. Then the noun means empty talk, vain boasting; and then it may denote lies or falsehood. The leading idea is that o? separation or of remoteness from any thing., as from prudence, wisdom, propriety, or truth. It is a general term, like our word bad., which I presume has been derived from this Hebrew word ^'^
— badh., or from the Arabic Jo? ^f'^^- In the plural (D'^'nS) it ig rendered liars in Isa. xliv. 25. Jer. 1. 36; lies in Job xi. 3. Isa. xvi. 6. Jer. xlviii. 30; and prtrt^in Job xli. 12. It is also often rendered staves., Ex. xxvii. 6, XXV. 14, 15, 28, et sap. al. That it may mean " lies " here I admit, but it may also mean talk that is aside from propriety, and may refer here to a kind of discourse that was destitute of propriety, empty, vain talk. IT w5?trf ichen thou mockest. That is, ' slialt thou be permitted to use the language of reproach and of com plaint, and no one attempt to make thee sensible of its impropriety.''' The complaints and arguments of Job he represented as in fact m.ocking God. *[[ Shall no man make thee ashamed? Shall no one show thee the impropriety of it, and bring thy mind to a sense of shame for what it has done? Thi.<» was what Zophar now proposed to do. 4. My doctrine is pure. The LXX instead of the word doctrine here read deeds., I'oyoiq; the Syriac, " thou sayest I have acted justly.' IJut the word here used C^l^^) means properly fair speech., or taking argumeiits, that by which one is taken or captivated, from njl^b, to take. Then it means doctrine, or instruction, Prov. i. 5, ix. 9. Here it means the views which Job had expressed. Dr. Good supposes that it means conduct^ a word which would suit the connec-
5 But oh that God would speak, and open his lips against thee;
6 And that he would show thee the secrets of wisdom, that
ticn, but the Hebrew is not used in this sense. 1[ And I am clean in thine eyes. In the eyes of God, or in his sight. This was a false charge. Job had never maintained that he was perfect (comp. Notes on ch.ix. 20); he had only maintained that he was not such a sinner as his friends maintained that he was, a hypocrite, and a man eminent for guilt. His want of absolute perfection he was ever ready to admit and mourn over.
5. But oh., that God laould speak. Heb. " and truly, who will give that God should speak." It is the expression of an earnest wish that God would address him, and bring him to a proper sense of his ill-desert. The meaning is, that if God should speak to him he would by no means find himself so holy as he now claimed to be.
6. And that he icould show thee the secrets of icisdom. The hidden things that pertain to wisdom. The reference here is to the wisdom of God himself. The sense is this, ' you now think yourself pure and holy. You have confidence in your own wisdom and integrity. But this apprehension is based on a short-sighted view of God, and on ignorance of him. If he would speak and show you his wisdom; if he would express his sense of what purity is, you would at once see how far you have come from perfection, and would be overwhelmed with a sense of your comparative vileness and sin.' H That they are double to that ivhich is! Noyes renders this, " his wisdom which is unsearchable." Dr. Good, strangely enough, "for they are intricacies to iniquity." The expression, as it stands in our common version, is not very intelligible; and indeed it is difficult to attach any idea to it. Of the words used in the Hebrew, the sense is not difficult.
tJicT/ are double to that which is! Know, therefore, that God exacteth of thee less " than thine iniquity cleserveth.
The word fc'?V£3, double, is from 5ES to fold., to double; and means a doubling (Job xli. 5); and then two folds, or double foldi?!, and tlie sense here is, that the wisdom of God is double f old; that is, complicated, inexplicable, or manifold. It is not spread out and plain, but is infolded, so that it requires to be unrolled to be understood. The word rendered ' that which is' (M^TlJ^Jn), means properly a setting upright, uprightness— from '^'^'^. Hence it means help, deliverance. Job vi. 13; purpose, undertaking, Notes on Job v. 12; and then counsel, wisdom, understanding. Job xii. 16. Isa. xxviii. 29. It means here, I suppose, understanding; and the idea is, that the wisdom of God is ' double of understanding;' that is, it is so infolded, so complex, that it greatly surpasses our comprehension. What we see is a small part of it; and the ' secrets' ot his wisdom — the parts of his wisdom which are not unfolded, are far above our grasp. His wisdom is like avast roll or volume, only the first and a very small part of which is unrc^lled so that we can read it. But who can look into that that remains unopened, and penetrate between the involutions, so as to perceive and read it all.'' It is but little that is now unrolled of the mighty volume — the remainder will be unfolded as years and ages shall pass on, and the entire unfolding of the book will be reserved for eternity. IT Knoio, therefore, that God exacteth of thee less than thine iniquity deserveth. The word here rendered 'exacteth' (nilj|^) more properly means to forget — from ri^J5. It also means to loan on usury. or to borrow; but the sense here is rather that of forgetting. It is not
7 Canst thou by searching " find out God? canst thou find out tlie Almighty unto perfection?
used in the sense of exacting. The true meaning is, ' know, therefore, th;it for ihee God hatli caused to be forgotten a part of thy iniquity.' That is, ho has treated you as if he had caused a part of your sins to be out of mind, or as if they were not remembered Instead of treating you, as you complain, with severity, he has bv no means infiicted on you the calaniities which you deserve. Tlie ground of this unfeeling assertion is the abstract proposition that God is infinitely wiser than men; that he has a deeper insight into liuman guilt than men can have; and that if he sliould disclose to us all that he sees of the heart, we should be amazed at the revelations of our own sins. This sentiment is undoubtedly true, and accords almost exactly with what Job had himself said (ch. X. 19-22), but there is something very harsh and severe in the manner in which Zophar applies it.
7. Canst thou, by searching, find out God? In order to illustrate the sentiment which he had just expressed, that the secrets of divine wisdom must bo far above our comprehension, Zoj)har introduces here this.sublime description of God — a description which seems to have the form and force of a proverb. It seems to have been a settled opinion that man could not find out the Almighty to perfection by his own powers — a sentiment, which is as true now, as it was then, and which is of the utmost importance in all our inquiries about the Creator. The sentiment i.s expressed in a most l)(.autiful manner; and the language it.>;( If ilk not unworthy of the theme. The word "searching," ^i^H^ is from "pn to search, to search out, to examine; and the primary sense, according to Gesenius, lies in searching in
8 It is * as high as heaven; what canst thou do? deeper than hell; what canst thou know?
the earth by boring or digging — as for metals. Then it means to search with diligence and care. Here it means that by the utmost attention in examining the works of God, it would be impossible for man to find out the Almighty to perfection, AH the investigations which have been made of God, have fallen short of the object; and at the present time it is as true as it was in the days of Job, that we cannot, by searching, find him out. Of much that pertains to him and his plans we must be content to remain in ignorance, until we are admitted to the revelations of a higher world — happy and thankful now that we are permitted to know so much of him as we do, and that we are apprized of the existence of one infinite AND PERFECT MIND. It is an inexpressible privilege to know any thing of God; and it is proof of the exalted nature of man, that he is now capable of becoming in any degree acquainted with the divine nature.
8. It is as high as heaven. That is, the knowledge of God; or the subject is as high as heaven. The idea is, that man is incompetent to examine, with accuracy, an object that is as far off as the heavens; and that as the knowledge of God rrntst be of that character, it is vain for him to attempt to investigate it fully. There is an energy in the Hebrew which is lost in our common translation. The Hebrew is abrupt and very emphatic: " The heights of the heavens I" It is the language of one looking up with astonishment at the high heavens, and overpowered with the thought that the knowledge of God must be higher even than those distant skies. Who can hope to understand it.^ Who can be qualified to make the investigation? It is a matter of simple but sublime truth, that God must be higher than
9 The measure thereof is longer than the earth, and
these heavens; and when we take into view the amazing distances of many of the heavenly bodies, as now known by the aid of modern astronomy, we may ask with deeper empiiasis by far than Zophar did, ' Can we, by searching, find out God?' IT ^Deeper than hell. Heb. " Than Sheol' — bixirT:. The LXX render this, " the heaven is high, what canst thou do? And there are things deeper than in Hades — (iaO-vrfua tcov iv adnv — what dost thou know?"' On the meaning of the word Sheol^ see Notes on Isa. clis. v. 14, xiv. 9. It seems to have been supposed to be as deep as the heavens are high; and tlie idea here is, that it would be impossible ibr man to investigate a subject that was as profound as Sheol was deep. The idea is not that God was in Sheol, but that the subject was as profound as the abode of departed spirits was deep and remote. It is possible that the Psalmist may have had this passage in his eye in the similar expression, occurring in the CXXXlXth Psalm: If I ascend into heaven, thou art there; If I make my bed in hell, behold thou art tliere.
9. The incisure thereof is lunger than the earth. The measure of the knowledge of God. The extent of the earth would be one of the longest measures known to the ancients. Yet it is now impossible to ascertain what ideas were attached, in the time of Job, to the extent of the earth — and it is not necessary to know tliis in order to understand this expression. It is morally certain that the prevailing ideas were very limited, and that a small part of the earth was then known. The general belief seems to have been, that it was a vast plain, surrounded by water — but how supported, and what were its limits, were evidently matters to them unknown. The earliest knowledge which we have of geography, as understood by the Arabs, represents the earth as wholly encompassed by an ocean, like a zone. This was usually characterized as a " Sea of Darkness;" an appellation usually given to the Atlantic; while to the Northern Sea was given the name of " The Sea of Pitchy Darkness." Edrisi imagined the land to be floating in the sea, and only part appearing above, like an egg in a basin of water. if these views prevailed so late as tile tenth and eleventh centuries of the (Christian era, it is reasonable to conclude that the views of the figure and size of the earth must have been extremely limited in the time of Job, On the ancient views of geography, see Notes on oh. xxvi. 7-10, and the maps there, also Murray's Encyclojjasdia of Geography, Book I., and Esciienberg's Manual of Classical Literature, by Prof. Fiske, Part I. IF And broader than the sea. What was the idea of the breadth of tho sea, which was supposed to surround the earth, it is now wholly impossible to determine. Probably there were no ideas on the subject that could be regarded as settled and definite. The ancients had no means of ascertaining this, and they perhaps supposed that the ocean extended to an unlimited extent — or, perhaps, to the far-distant place where the sky and the water appeared to meet. At all events it was an illustration then, as it is now, of a vast distance, and is not inappropriately used here to denote the impossibility of fully understanding God. This illustration would be far more striking then than now. We have crossed the ocean; and we do not deem it an impracticable thing to explore the remotest seas. But not so the ancients. They kept close to the shore. They seldom ventured out of sight of land. The enterprise of exploring and crossing the vast ocean, which they supposed encompassed the globe, was regarded by them as ichoLly impracticable — and equally so they correctly supposed it was to find out God.
10 If " he ' cut off, and shut up, or gather together, then who can -liinder him?
10. If he cut off. ]Marg. Make a chansrc. But ueitJicr of these phrases j jiroperly expresses the sense of the j oriizinnl. The whole image here is prohably that of arresting a criminal and bringing him to trial, and the language is taken from the mode of con- | ducting a rendered "cut?^n — means properly to pass along; to pass on; then to pass against any one, to rush on, to assail; and in a remote sense in Piel and Hiphil, to cause to pass on or away, that is, to change. This is thasense expressed in the margin. The idea is not that of cutting off, but is that of making a rush upon a man, for the purpose of arresting him and bringing him to trial. Tliere are frequent references to such trials in the book of Job. The Chaldeo renders this, " if he pass on and shut up tlie heavens with clouds" — but the paraphrast evidently did not understand the passage. TI ^nd shut up. That is, imprison or detain with a view to trial. Some such detention is always practised of necessity before trial. H Or gather together. Gather together tlie parlies for trial; or rather call the individual into court for trial. The word —•^I^, means properly to call together, to convoke, as a people; and is used to denote the custom of assembling the people for a trial — or, as we would say, to ' call the court,' which is now the office of a crier. M Then icho can hinder him? Marg. Who can turn him away? He has all power, and no one can resist him. No one can deliver the criminal from his hands. Zophar here is in fact repeating in another form what Job Iiad himself said (ch. i.x. 3. scq.), and the sentiment seems to be proverbial. The idea here is, that il" God should call a man into judgment, and hold
11 For ' he knoweth vain men: he seeth wickedness also: will he not then consider it?
him guilty, he could neither answer nor resist him. God is so great; he so intimately knows the human heart; he has so thorough an acquaintance with all our past sins, that we cannot hope to answer him or escape. Zophar argues on this principle: ' God holds you to be guilty. He is punishing you accordingly. You do not feel it so, or suppose that you deserve all this. But he sees your heart, and knows all your life. If he holds you to be guilty, it is so. You cannot answer him, and you should so regard it, and submit.'
11. For he knoiceth vain men. He is intimately acquainted with the heart; he knows men altogether The word vain here (^^1'^'), means properly vanity, emptiness, falsehood, a lie, iniquity. " Men of vanity," here may mean men whose opinions are valueless, or it may mean men of deceit, falsehood, hypocrisy. Most probably it means the latter, and the indirect reference may be to such men as Job. The sense is, that God is intimately acquainted with such men. They cannot deceive him, and their wickedness will be found out. M Will he not then consider it? Various ways have been proposed of explaining this. By sonie it is supposed to mean, ' He seeth iniquity, where they do not observe it;' that is, he perceives it, where men do not themselves. This would ex])ress a thought which would accord well with the connection, but it is doubtful whether the Hebrew will bear this construction. By another explanation it is supposed to mean, as in our common version, " Will not God observe it, and bring it to trial? Will he suffer it to pass unnoticed.''" This makes good sense, and the Hebrew will admit of this interpretation. But there is another
12 For ' vain man would he
view still, which is preferable to either. According to this it means, that God perceives the iniquity in man, though he docs not sccvi to notice it. See Notes on vcr. 6. He appears to pass over a part of it, but he sees it notwithstanding, and is intimately acquaint(Hl witli all the depravity of the heart. The main reference here is to Job, and the object is to show him that he was guilty, though he had asserted liis innocence in so decided a manner. Though he seemed to himself to be innocent, yet Zoph-ar labors to show him that he must be guilty, and that he had seen but a small part of his sins.
12. For rain man. IMarg. ewpty. 3^!2D, according to Gesenius, from the root -"5) to bore through, and then to be hollov/; metaphorical, C77>pt.y, foolish. The LXX, strangely enough, render this, "but man lioats about with words." The Hebrew here means, manifestl}^, hollow, empty; then insincere and hypocritical. Zophar refers to a hollow-hearted man, who, though he was in fact like a wild ass's colt, attempted to appear mild and gentle, and to have a heart. The meaning is, that man by nature has a spirit untamed and unsubdued, and that vufh this, he assumes the appearance of gentleness and tenderness, and attempts to appear as if he was worthy of love and affection. God, seeing this hollow-heartedness, treats him accordingly. The reference here is to men like Job, and Zophar undoubtedly meant to say that he was hollow-hearted and insincere, and yet that he wished to appear to be a man having a heart., or, having true piety. IT Would he wise. Various interpretations have been given to this expression. The most simple and obvious seems to be the true one, though I have not seen it noticed by any of the commentators. The word rendered "would be wise " (35^'?) is from S^^, or 3^, meaning
wise, though man be born like a wild ass's colt.
heart., and the sense here, as it seems to me, is, ' vain, hollow, and insincere, man would xcish to seem to have a heart;' that is, would desire to appear sincere, or pious. Destitute of that truly, and false and hollow, he would nevertheless wish to appear different, and would put on the aspect of sincerity and religion. This is the most simple exposition, and this accords with the drift of the passage exactly, and expresses a sentiment which is unquestionably true. Gesenius, however, and some others render it, " hut man is holloio and wanteth understanding; yea., vian is horn like a zcild ass's colt, signifying the weakness and dulness of the human understanding in comparison with the divine wisdom." Others render it, " but the foolish man becometh wise when the wild ass's colt shall become a man," i. e. never., a most forced and unnatural construction. Dr. Good renders it:
Will he then accept the hollow-hearted person? Or shall the -wild ass-colt assume tlie man? Schultens and Dathe translate it: Let then vain man be wise, And the wild ass's colt become a man.
Tf Though man he horn. Though man by nature, or in connection with his birth, is untamed, lawless, rebellious. The wild ass is a striking image of that which is untamed and unsubdued. Conjp. Notes on ch. xxxix. 5. Thus Jeremiah describes it, " a wild ass used to the wilderness, that snuffeth up the wind at her pleasure," Jer. ii. 24. Thus it is said of Ishmael (Gen. xvi. 12), "and he will be a wild man," D'ltJ i<'lB — a loild ass of a man. So Job xxxix. 5:
Who hath sent out the wild ass free;
Or who hath loosed the bands of the wild ass?
It is not quite easy for us to understand these allusions, for with us the ass is the proverbial image of stupidity, dulness, obstinacy, and immobility. But it was not so with the
13 If thou prepare « thine heart, and stretch out thine hands toward him;
ancients. It is mentioned as distinguished for velocity, for vvildness, and for an unsubdued spirit. Thus Oppian, as qupted by Bochart, Hieroz. Lib. i. c. ix. p. 63, says:
Swift, rapid, xcith strong hoofs, and most fleet in his course. And Aristotle mentions wild asses as rtjr xaxv- Tf/ra (yiacpFonrrfq, Hist. Lib. vi. 6 c. 3(j. So.^lian says of them, or/.iaroi fl'j(Xfifiv, fleet in their course. And Xenophon says of them, TToP.i; roiJ Yrr- Ttnv Oaxrnv'fTofxnv, they run much j swifter than a horse. In describing \ the march of the younger Cyrus through Syria, he says, " The wild ass, being swifter of foot than our horses, would, in gaining ground upon tiiem, stand still and look around; and when their pursuers got nearly up to them, they would start off, and j repeat the same trick; so that there ' remained to the hunters no other method of taking them but by dividing themselves into dispersed parties j which succeeded each other in the! chase." Comp. Bochart, Hieroz. P. j [, Lib. iii. c. xvi. pp. 867-879. A! similar statement is made by ^lian i ([.lib. xiv. cap. 10, as quoted by Bo- I chart), " The wild asses of Maurusius ( o'j'ot Mavaovoini) are most fleet in their course, and at ti)e commencement of their course they seem to be borne along by the winds, or as on the wings of a iiird." "In Persia," says the Editor of the Pictorial Bible, "the wild ass is prized above all other animals as an object of cha.^e, not only from its fleetness, but ' the delicacy of its flesh, which made I it an article of luxury even at the, royal tables." " They are now most I al)undantly foun 1 in the deserts of j Tartary, and of the countries between I the Tigris and the Indus, more par- j
14 If iniquity 6c in thine hand, put it far away, and let not wickedness dwell in * thy tabernacles.
ticularly in the central parts of the regions thus defined. Wo know that they were also anciently found in the regions of Mesopotamia, Asia Minor, Syria, and Arabia Deserta; but from these regions they seem to have been, in the course of ages, almost entirely expelled or extirpated." Pict. Bib. on Job xxxix. 5. The idea in the passage before us is, that man at his birth has a strong resemblance to a wild and untamed animal; and the passage undoubtedly indicates the early belief of the native proneness of man to wander away from God, and of his possessing by nature an msubmissive spirit.
13. If thou prepare thine heart. Zo phar now proceeds to state that if Job even yet would return to God, he might hope for acceptance. Though he had sinned, and though he Avas now, as he supposed, a hollow-hearted and an insincere man, yet, if he would repent, he might expect the divine favor. In this he accords with the sentiment of Eliphaz, and he concludes his speech in a manner not a little resembling his. See ch. v. 17- 27. M And stretch out thine hands toioard him. In the attitude of supplication. To stretch out, or spread forth the hands, is a phrase often used to denote the act of supplication. See 1 Tim. ii. 9, and the Notes of Wetstein on that place. Horace, 3 Carm. xxiii. 1, Ccelo supinas si tuleris manus. Ovid, M. ix. 701, Ad sidera supplex Cressa manus tollens. Trist. i. 10, 21, Ipse gubernator, tollens ad sidera palmas. Comp. Livy V. 21. Seneca, Ep. 41. Ps. ciii. 22, cxxxiv. 2, cxli. 2. Ezra ix. 47.
14. If iniquity he in thine hand. If you have in your possession any thing that has been unjustly obtained. If you have oppressed the poor and the fatherless, and have what properly belpngs to them, let it be restored.
15 For then shalt thou lift up thy face without spot; yea, thou shalt be steadfast, and shalt not fear:
16 Because thou shalt forget
This is the obvious duty of one who comes to God to implore his favor. Comp. Luke xix. 8.
15. For then shalt thou lift up thy face without spot. That is, thy face shall be bright, clear, and cheerful. Thus we speak of a bright and happy countenance. Zophar undoubtedly designs to show what his appearance would be, contrasted with what it then was. Now iiis countenance vvas dejected and sad. It was disfigured by tears, and terror, and long continued anguish. But if he v/ould put away iniquity, and return to God, his face would be cheerful again, and he would be a happy man.!i Yea, thou shalt be steadfast, and shalt not fear. The word rendered " steadfast " (p^TD^ is from P^'J, to pour, to pour out, and is applied to liquids, or to metals which are fused and poured into a mould, and which then become hard. Hence it is used in the sense of firm, solid, intrepid. Gesenius. Schultcns supposes that the reference here is to metallic mirrors, made bycasting, and then polished, and tliat the idea is, that his face would shine like such a mirror. But it may be doubted whether this interpretation is not too refined. The other and more common explanation well suits the sense, and should probably be retained.
16. And reviemher it as icaters that pass atcaxj. As calamity that has completely gone by, or that has rolled on and will return no more. The comparison is beautiful. The water of the river is borne by us, and returns no more. The rough, the swollen, the turbid stream, we remember as it foamed and dashed along, threatening to sweep every thing away; but it went swiftly by, and will never
thy misery, and remember it as waters that pass away:
17 And thine age shall ' be clearer than the noon-day; thou shalt shine " forth, thou shalt be as the morning.
comeback. So with afflictions. They are soon gone. The most intense pain soon subsides. The days of sorrow pass quickly away. There is an outer limit of suffering, and even ingenuity cannot prolong it far. The man disgraced, and whose life is a burden, will soon die. On the cheeks of the solitary prisoner doomed to the dungeon for life, a " mortal paleness " will soon settle down, and the comforts of approaching death will soothe the anguish of his sad heart. The rack of torture cheats itself of its own purpose, and the exhausted sufferer is released. " The excess [of grief] makes it soon mortal." " No sorrow but killed itself much sooner." i Shakspcare. When we look back upon our sorrows, it is like thinking of the stream that was so much swollen, and was so impetuous. Its waters rolled on, and they come not back again; and there is a kind of pleasure in thinking of that time of danger, of that flood that was then so fearful, and that has now swept on to come back no more. So there is a kind of peaceful joy in thinking of the days of sorrow that are now fled forever; in the assurance that those sad times will never, never recur again.
17. Jlnd thine as^e. Thy life. This does not mean old age, but tlic idea is, that his life would be cheerful and happy. IF Clearer than the. noon-day. Marg. Arise above the nooji-day. The margin is a literal rendering; but the sense is clear in the text. The idea is, that the remainder of his life would be bright as the sun if he would return to God. H Thou shalt shine forth. Or rather, ' thou art now in darkness, but thou shalt be as the morning.' The word here used — "^S^^rj is from t]^^)^ to cover
18 And thou shall be secure, because there is hope; yea, thou shall dig about thee, and thou shall take tliy rest in safety.
19 Also thou shall lie down, and none shall make thcc afraid;
—;is with wings, to fly, to cover with darkness. In no instance does it mean to shine, or to be clear and bright; and why our translators attached that idea to it, it is now difficult to conjecture. The Chaldce and Syriac read the word as a noun, and render tlie passage, ' and thy darkvpss shall be as the aurora.' The Vulgate renders it, " and meridian splendor, as it were, shall arise upon thee at the evening." The LXX, "and thy prayer shall be like the morning star, and life shall rise upon thee from noon-day." The sense in llic Hebrew is phiin. He was then in darkness. Clouds and calamities were round about him, but if he wouUl return to God, he would be permitted to enjoy a bright day of prosperity. Such a day would return to him like the morning after a long and gloomy night.
18. And thou shall he secure. You will feel confident that your prosperity will be permanent, and you will be free from the distressing anxieties and fears which you now have. IT Thou shall dig about thee. The Chaldee renders this, " thou sluilt prepare for thyself a sepulchre, and slialt lie down in safety." The word here used (^SH) Jias two significations. It means, (1) to dig — as, e. g. a well, and under this signification to search out, to explore; and, {2) to be ashamed, to blush, Jsa. i. 2i). According to Gesenius, the latter here is the signification. " Now ihou art ashamed, then thou shall dwell in quiet." Lex. So Noyes renders it. Dr. Good translates it, "yen, thou shall look around;" RosenmUller, "thou art sufiused with •hame." This is, probably, the true
20 But the eyes " of the wicked shall fail, and '''they shall not escape, and their ^ hope shall he as Hhe giving up of the ghost.
sense; and the idea is, that tliough he was now covered with shame, yet he would lie down in peace and safety if he would return to the Lord.,
19. Many shall make suit unto thee. Many shall come in a suppliant manner to ask counsel and advice. The meaning is, that he would be a m.an of distinction, to whom many would look for counsel. This was evidently an honor highly valued in the East, and one on which Job had formerly prided liimself. See ch. xxix. 7-13.
20. But tlie eyes of the tcicked shall fail. That is, they shall be wearied out by anxiously looking for reliei from their miseries. Koyes. Their expectation shall be vain, and they shall find no relief PerhapsZo^hnr here means to apply this to Job, end to say to him that with his present views and character, his hope f:>f relief would fail. His only hope of relict was in a change — in turning to God — since it was a settled maxim that the wicked would look for relief in vain. This assumption that he was a wicked man, must have been among the most trying things that Job had to endure. Indeed nothing could be more provoking than to have otliers take it for granted as a matter that did not admit of argument, that he was a hypocrite, and that God was dealing with him as an incorrigible sinner. II And they shall not escape. Marg. Flight shall perish from them. The margin is a literal translation of the Hebrew. The sense is, escape for the wicked is out of the question. They must be arrested and punished. II And their hops shall be as the giving up of the ghost. Litcrallv, 'the breathing out of the life or soul.' Their hope shall leave them as the breath or life does the body. It is like death. Tlie expression does not mean tiiat their hope would always expire at death, but that it would certainly expire as life leaves the body. The meaning is, that whatever hope a wicked man has of future happiness and salvation, must fail. The time must come when it will cease to comfort and support him. The hope of the pious man lives until it is lost in fruition in heaven. It attends him in health; supports him in sickness; is with him at home; accompanies him abroad; cheers him in solitude; is his companion in society; is with him as he goes down into the shades of adversity, and it brightens as he travels along the valley of the shadow of death. It stands as a bright star over his grave — and is lost only in the gloriesof heaven, as the morning star is lost in the superior briglitness of the rising sun. Not so the hypocrite and the sinner. His hope dies — and he leaves the world in despair. Sooner or later the last ray of his delusive hopes shall take its departure from the soul, and leave it to darkness. No matter iiow briglit it may have been; no matter how long he has cherislied it; no matter on what it is founded — whether on his morals, his prayers, his accomplishments, his learning; if it be not based on true conversion, and the promised mercy of God through a Redeemer, it must soon cease to shine, and will leave the soul to the gloom of black despair.
Th£se three chapters, which comprise the reply of Job to the speech of Zophar, and in general to what had been advanced by his friends, embrace the following points: —
I. Ele commences the reply with a severe sarcasm — tlie first in which he had indulged — on the superiority which they assumed. They were ' the ■people.^ ha said, and wisdom would die with tliom, ch xi'. 2.
II. He affirms that bo understood the points on which they had insisted as well as they; that they had advanced nothing that was new to him, or which he had not often reflected on;' that by urging these plain maxims and common-place topics, thoy had done him an unkindness by undervaluing his understanding, and complains that they had added to his sorrows by inflicting on him these truisms, and compelling him toiiear sentiments with which he was so familiar, but which they supposed were profound and novel discoveries, cli. xii. 3-5.
III. He tlien re-affirms his main position (ver. C), maintaining that the worst of men, so far from receiving the punishment which was their duo, were in fact prospered; and then proceeds to shov.' them what he knew of God. They had spoken of his wisdom and power, as if he were ignoiant on the subject. He proceeds, therefore, to discourse of the Most High in a manner calculated to make them ashamed of their comparatively obscure and nanow views, and to sliow that he had reflected on that point much more than they had, ch. xii. 7-25. xiii. 1,2. This part of the discourse may be regarded somewhat as a trial of skill; or an attempt to show that he could speak of God in strains as sublime as tliey could, and that the maxims which he had treasured up were qiiito as well calculated to exalt God as theirs were. He speaks of the universal sovereignty ofOod; says tliat the knowledge of him is to be learned from tlie beasts, the earth, and the whole course of events; admits that his agency is seen every where, but maintains that his dispensations are not in exact accordance with the character of man, and that men are not treated acco-iding to their deserts in this life.