Job 7 · The Lantern

Job Continues: Life Seems Futile

Is there not a hard service for a mortal on the earth? And are not his days like the days of a hired man?

Like a slave who pants for the shadow, and like a hired man who waits for his wage —

Not only is this life painful, but it is also frightful, because, after being wounded, I am now in the condition to fear the blows of the Lord. This is why I jump from one place to another in fright, like those slaves who are threatened by their master.

As a servant earnestly desireth the shadow, and as an hireling looketh for the end of his work, so am I made to possess months of vanity, and I have numbered me wearisome nights.

Therefore, since the whole position of Eliphaz is undermined by these arguments, Job intends to strengthen them and demonstrates them efficaciously from reason. For clearly, each thing rests when it attains its ultimate end. So once the human will has attained its ultimate end, it must rest in that and must not be moved to desire anything else.

so I have been made to inherit months of emptiness, and nights of trouble have been counted out to me.

So am I made to possess months of vanity, and I have numbered me wearisome nights. Yet, if this sentence be referred to the voice of Holy Church, the meaning thereof is traced out with a little more particularity. For she herself has 'months of vanity,' who in her weak members has to bear earthly actions running on to nought without the meed of life.

Likewise, Gregory, in the Moralia, on that passage of Job: I have numbered for myself laborious nights: "The elect serve the Creator of all things and are often straitened by want of things; they cling to God through love, and yet they lack the supports of the present life." To lack the supports of the present life, therefore, is fitting to the perfection of the Saints.

"So I have passed empty months," for I considered the past months passed empty for me, because I did not obtain final perfection in them. "And nights," i.e. when I should have been resting from my afflictions. "I have counted sleepless," i.e. I considered them sleepless because I was delayed in them from the attainment of my end.

If I lie down, I say, “When shall I rise?” And the evening drags on, and I am full of tossings until the twilight.

My flesh is clothed with maggots and clods of dust; my skin hardens over and runs.

My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and they come to an end without hope.

Remember that my life is a breath; my eye will not return to see good.

O remember that my life is wind. For those men love the life of the flesh as enduring, who do not consider how infinite is the eternity of the life to come; and whereas they take no thought of the sure stedfastness of the everlasting state, they take their exile for their home, darkness for light, going for standing.

"My eye will begin to see good again." Here the author refers to the hope that is reserved for people in the new world.

He had already seemed to address God in the text saying, "The life of man on earth is combat." (v.1) Now to prove his point he adds, "Remember that my life is but a breath," like the wind. For as the wind passes by and does not return afterwards, so the life of man does not return when it has passed away.

The eye of the one who sees me will not behold me; your eyes are on me, and I am not.

A cloud wastes away and goes; so the one who goes down to Sheol does not come up.

He does not return again to his house, and his place does not recognize him again.

I also will not restrain my mouth. I will speak in the distress of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.

Therefore also I will not refrain my mouth. For that man 'refrains his mouth,' that is ashamed to confess the evil he has done. For to put the mouth to labour is to employ it in the confession of sin done, but the righteous man doth 'not refrain his mouth,' in that forestalling the wrath of the searching Judge, he falls wroth upon himself in words of self-confession.

"Am I the sea, or the dragon?" That is, you have imposed a limit that the sea must not trespass, so that it might not submerge the earth. You did the same with the dragon, that it might not go out and destroy all that it met. But why do you continue to punish me so harshly, for I am a feeble man with a short life?

After Job showed that the consolation of Eliphaz promising earthly prosperity was inconsistent by arguments, he now shows the same thing by deducing arguments of unfittingness, because if he should rely on that consolation which had been given to him from the hope of earthly prosperity by Eliphaz, as has been shown, it would follow that it would be necessary for him to still re…

Am I the Sea, or the Dragon, that you set a guard over me?

When I say, “My couch will comfort me; my bed will carry some of my complaint,”

then you terrify me with dreams, and by visions you dismay me;

and my soul chooses strangling — death rather than my bones.

"I beg of you. Take away my life. Deliver me from my pains through death. In fact, you did not create me immortal. So … may [I] enjoy quiet and tranquility in the future. I do not demand, O Lord, anything contrary to your decree. You made me mortal, not immortal.

But if you ask how these things come about, ask grace, not doctrine; desire, not understanding; the groaning of prayer, not the study of reading; the Bridegroom, not the master; God, not man; darkness, not clarity; not light, but the fire that wholly inflames and carries into God through ecstatic anointings and most ardent affections.

So, then, when consolation is refused me from every side and no way remains for me to escape so many anguishes but death, I therefore prefer death however abject to such a painful life.

I have rejected it; I will not live forever. Leave off from me, for my days are a breath.

What is a mortal, that you make him great, and that you set your heart on him,

It is necessary, actually, to call that time "morning," because it is entirely light and drives the night away from this life. "You judge them for the time of rest," that is, not for the torments but for the delights and the reward.

What is man, that Thou shouldest magnify him? and that Thou shouldest set Thine heart upon him? God magnifieth man, in that He enriches him with the bountiful gift of reason, visits him with the inspiration of grace, exalts him with the greatness of imparted virtue; and whereas he is nothing in himself, yet through the bounty of His lovingkindness He vouchsafes to him to be a p…

Consequently he pursues both points. First he says of his weakness, "What is man," that is, how small a thing and frail in body, "that you lift him up," by honoring him among the other creatures or "that you turn your heart towards him," by guarding him and protecting him with special care?

and visit him every morning, and test him every moment?

How long will you not look away from me, nor let me alone until I swallow my spittle?

I have sinned. What do I do to you, watcher of mankind? Why have you set me as your target, so that I have become a burden to myself?

What does Job mean when he says, "What shall I be able to do for you?" What should I do in order to expiate my fault, in order to be reconciled with you? "O you who understand the human mind, why did you make me to be your accuser?" Job speaks this way not because he accuses God—God forbid!—but because what has happened to him raises a serious accusation against God.

I have sinned; what shall I do unto Thee, O Thou Preserver of men? Observe how he confesses the ill that he has done, but the good that he should present to God in compensation, he no where can find, in that all virtue whatever of human practice is without power to wash out the guilt of sin, except His mercifulness in sparing foster it, and not His justice in judging press hard…

Someone could object that Job was unworthy to be spared by God because his sins merit that he be afflicted even more. This follows also from the opinion of Eliphaz who thought that he was scourged because of his sins.

And why do you not lift my transgression and pass over my iniquity? For now I shall lie down in the dust; and you will seek me, and I will not be.

Job7

Job Continues: Life Seems Futile