Commentary on Job 1 part 5/19

Either, then, it was for this reason that he mentioned the children, or, having no manifest sin of Job's to speak of, he transferred the accusation to the children;

Yet he did not leave Job himself unaccused either, seeking to show that punishments follow not the pious but the unjust.

The words: 'How long will you say these things? A spirit full of many words comes from your mouth.'

'Will the Lord act unjustly in judging, or will he who made all things disturb what is just?' He rebukes Job as one who has babbled nonsense, and thinks to silence him by an appeal to God's just judgment.

For not even he, he says, who made all things in good order and harmony has disturbed the equity of justice in your case alone.

Gently, then, he strikes at him, as one who is suffering justly and on account of sin.

'If your sons sinned before him, he sent them away by the hand of their lawlessness.'

For if your children sinned, he says, were they not justly punished? And he said 'before him' because nothing escapes God's notice.

'By their deed' — that is, he means to say that they received according to their own deeds.

But rise early to the Lord Almighty, imploring him.

If you are pure and true, he will hearken to your petition.

And he will restore to you a habitation of righteousness.

So your former things will be few, but your latter things will be beyond telling.

I advise you, then, he says, to entreat God with earnestness, making supplication more esteemed than everything else.

For 'rise early' indicates this.

And if you are truly genuine and not feigned, he will restore to you a life and a manner of conduct fitting a righteous man, so that you will fare so well that your former goods will be reckoned as little.

Observe how Bildad supposes that the enjoyment of the goods of this present life is reckoned as a portion of blessing for the righteous.

'For inquire of the former generation, and search out according to the lineage of the fathers.'

'For we are but of yesterday, and we know nothing.'

'For our life upon the earth is a shadow.'

'For seek out,' he says, 'the more ancient things, and search out what happened in the days of the fathers.'

For we came into being only yesterday and the day before, and our whole life runs past like a shadow, and because of the brevity of life we are not even able to know many things.

'Will not these teach you, and declare to you, and bring forth words from the heart?' The fathers, he says, will teach you both through what they did and through what they said.

And what does he mean by saying that the fathers will teach you? It is quite clear — that punishments come on account of sins, and that it is not possible for the prosperity of the unjust to stand firm.

'Does the papyrus flourish without water, or will the reed-grass grow tall without drink? While it is still upon its root and not yet cut, before it has drunk every plant withers.'

Just as, he says, it is not possible for papyrus or reed-grass to grow or be harvested without partaking of the moisture of water, but every plant not watered withers, so too, without piety, it is impossible for a man's prosperity to endure.

'So, then, will be the end of all who forget the Lord.'

'For the hope of the impious man will perish.'

'For his house will be uninhabited, and his tent will turn into a spider's web.'

In the same manner, then, the prosperity of the impious does not endure to the end, but is dissolved like a spider's web, all his good fortune vanishing.

By 'tracks' he means the paths, the ways, so as to say that he perishes together with his whole household.

For this is what 'his house shall be uninhabited' signifies.

'If he props up his house, it shall not stand.'

'And when he takes hold of it, it shall not hold firm.'

For if he supposes he is acting as securely as possible and arranging his own affairs firmly, yet God lays hold of him — that is to say:

should God grasp him with a striking blow, he shall not endure.

'For he is moist under the sun, and out of his rottenness his shoot will come forth.'

The impious also suffer when the divine wrath falls upon them.

It seems that through the 'shoots,' which signify the offshoots, or branches, or blossoms, he is hinting at the destruction of Job's children.

'He sleeps upon a heap of stones, and he shall live in the midst of pebbles.'

'But if it is swallowed up, the place will disown it.'

For the impious, he says, are like plants set in ground that has no depth, but is stony and hard.

For either they do not take root at all, or, even if they do take root, because the soil has no depth they wither away, so that they are no longer even visible in that place.

For 'if it is swallowed up' is equivalent to:

'if it takes root'; and 'the place will disown it' is equivalent to:

it becomes invisible and unrecognizable because of the calamity.

And he seems fittingly to make mention of stones and pebbles.

For the impious rest upon the roughness and irregularity of base things.

And even if they seem to receive some word of piety, they immediately vomit it up again, because they do not have a fertile and fruit-bearing soul.

'Have you not seen such things, that such is the overthrow of the impious man?' These things too, he says, you ought to observe from what has happened to others.

'But out of the earth he will make another spring up.'

'For the Lord will not reject the guileless man.'

But just as, he says, God causes the impious who are in prosperity to vanish, so too he causes the guileless, should they fall into some misfortune, to spring up again, and he establishes them in prosperity.

For the guileless man is not neglected to the end, nor does the impious man prosper to the end.

And continuing in the figure of the plants, he has set down 'he will make him spring up.'

'But he will not accept any gift of the impious man.'

'But he will fill the mouth of the truthful with laughter, and their lips with exultation.'

'But their enemies will be clothed with shame, and the dwelling of the impious man will be no more.'

And the gifts of the impious are not acceptable before God, but he will fill the truthful with joy, so that, prospering, they exult and glorify God.

And the enemies of the righteous will incur shame, while every way of life of the impious will be overturned.

Throughout, this man too has tried to show that Job's change of fortune came about on account of impiety.

'In truth I know that it is so.'

'For how shall a mortal be righteous before the Lord?' A preliminary consideration of the chapter: since Bildad had said,

'Will the Lord act unjustly in judging, or will he who made all things disturb what is just?' — Job too concurs with the just judgment of God, saying:

'In truth I know that it is so.'

Having declared, with much conviction, that God is just, he says that he is also wise and powerful and great, and that it is altogether difficult to contend against God.

Then he establishes at length God's power and incomprehensibility, and says that no one is righteous before God except by grace, and that although he is conscious of nothing against himself, yet he is not thereby justified.

Then he puts forward the brevity of life as a plea, and says:

'If I am punished as an impious man, it would have been better for me to die.'

But through his great love for God, having surpassed passionate fear, since he cannot persuade his friends that he is not being punished for sin, he gladly states his own case before the incorruptible God, greatly trusting in God's just judgment, knowing that the Lord will not tolerate the utterance of anything unjust.

These words, then, are not those of one speaking harshly, but of one speaking freely as a son to a father, as if saying, so to speak:

'Gladly, O father, do I plead my case with you.'

For I know that you do not endure to lie.

He who says this honors God exceedingly, as one who is just and true and no respecter of persons.

It is from such a disposition, then, that he asks for a legal contest with God; and again, since he has ventured to speak at all, he says, 'Forgive me, Master.'

For the pains that beset me have made me speak at all.

And again he sets forth God's love for mankind, His freedom from remembering wrongs, and His great generosity, and he entreats Him, as the Maker, to spare His handiwork.

He also sets forth God's power, and asks to obtain some relief before death—not so much, I think, in order to be freed from his torments, as so that while still living he might be fully assured that God is not angry with him, nor casts him away into darkness from His most radiant face.

The words: 'In truth I know that it is so.'

I too know that God is not unjust, but even when He punishes the impious, He punishes according to the principle of justice.

And to show that he holds this conviction firmly within himself, he confirms his statement, as it were, with an oath, saying:

'In truth I know that it is so.'

Thus he prefaced his subsequent words, securing them in advance, so that when he says:

'I am content to be judged before God,' let no one suppose that he says this as one suffering unjustly, but rather that he brings forth these words because he trusts in God's righteous judgment, in his own righteousness, and in his love for God.

That he is conscious of no sin in himself is quite clear from his own words:

But knowing that, measured against the divine exactness, no one is without sin, he adds and says:

'For how shall a mortal be righteous before the Lord? For if he wishes to be judged by Him, He will surely not hearken to him, so that he cannot answer even one of His words out of a thousand.'

'For He is wise in mind, mighty and great.'

'But I know this too,' he says, 'that no one is righteous by the standard of divine exactness—unless He should choose to justify someone solely by grace.'

'But if not, it is not possible to open one's mouth against Him.'

For if God should choose to be judged together with man, man is utterly at a loss how to respond at all and open his mouth.

For when God speaks a thousand words, man cannot even contradict a single one of them by saying that it was spoken wrongly.

For it is impossible for Wisdom itself not to know all things, even those that escape our notice; and it is likewise impossible for it to speak anything unwise or blameworthy.

And along with wisdom, He also possesses omnipotence and the greatness of His nature.

It should again be noted that the righteous man said these things beforehand, as though virtually speaking the words of the blessed David:

'And do not enter into judgment with your servant, for no one living shall be justified before you'—so that, if we hear him wishing to be judged before God, we should not suppose that he is saying:

'I suffer unjustly, and being judged before God I am able to convict Him of not acting justly'—far from it! For such a thought is far removed from the magnanimity of the great and God-loving Job. Rather, we should learn that he shuns the judgments rendered among men, since men speak either out of ignorance or in favor of someone—which is precisely what happened to his friends, who were deceived concerning the doctrines of providence, and who thought they were pleading God's cause by condemning the righteous man—but he asks and entreats that the truthful God Himself stand as judge for him, so that through God's truth it might be demonstrated that he is not being punished for sins.

'Who has become hardened against Him and endured?'—that is, no one who becomes harsh against God, he says, departs unpunished.

Again, he has set this down as a further safeguard, so that we might know that nowhere does he speak harshly, but rather he brings forth his words as one entreating and trusting in God's truth.

For he who knew it was not profitable to appear harsh against God would not himself become harsh—and this, though no great time had passed, but within these very following words.

Having thus prefaced his remarks and sufficiently secured our understanding, he expounds the power of God, as if by these words admonishing everyone not to dare at all to speak against One who is so great in power, so great in strength and majesty, and who does not tolerate the just order being disturbed in any way.

'He who wears down the mountains, and they do not know it; who overturns them in wrath.'

That is, he says, He who makes even the mountains vanish with ease.

David too said something similar:

'He who touches the mountains, and they smoke.'

'He who carries away the surpassing schemes of the evil one from men, while they remain unaware.'

'He who shakes that which is under heaven from its foundations, and its pillars are made to totter.'

By 'pillars' he means the supports.

For it lies within the power of Him who laid the foundation and established the supports, as He alone knows how, also to shake them.

'He who looks upon the earth and makes it tremble.'

'He who speaks to the sun and it does not rise, and He sets a seal upon the stars.'

That is, he says, He is able to command even the sun to remain in its place and not rise, and to shut off the stars so that they do not give their light.

'And walking upon the sea as upon dry ground.'

That is, he says, He who holds even the sea beneath His feet, and because of the immateriality of His nature travels through all things and presides over all things.

It also seems prophetically to signify the incarnation of the Word, when the Lord came to the apostolic boat, walking upon the very crests of the waves.

'He who made the Pleiades and the Evening Star and Arcturus, and the chambers of the south.'

'He who does great and untraceable things, glorious and marvelous things, of which there is no number.'

He used these names blamelessly.

For in what way do these things wrong Scripture, being named by it in a manner that men who hear can understand? By the more conspicuous stars he included the rest, and as it were said:

'He who adorned the whole array of heaven with all its variety.'

And by 'the south' he signified all the winds, as the blessed David also said:

'He who brings forth the winds out of their treasuries.'

Scripture spoke of 'treasuries' and 'chambers' of the winds, so that we might know that the accounts concerning the winds are beyond our reach.

'And why,' he says, 'should I speak of each thing individually? For the works of God are great, incomprehensible, and beyond number.'

'If He should pass beside me, I shall not see Him.'

'And if He should go past me, I would not even perceive it.'

For He happens to be invisible and incomprehensible in nature, so that it is unknown to us how He is at once in all things, outside all things, and above all things.

'If He should take away, who shall turn Him back? Or who shall say to Him:'

'What have You done?' For He has turned away His wrath, and beneath Him the sea monsters under heaven were bowed down.

'If,' he says, 'He should wish to bring about a complete consummation, who shall overturn what seems good to Him? But one thing,' he says, 'we know: that He punishes without passion and chastises without wrath, administering all our affairs for our benefit.'

He rendered the phrase 'and beneath Him the sea monsters under heaven were bowed down' as follows:

'Beneath Him shall those who lean upon arrogance be bowed down'—meaning to say that He brings low even the brow of the proud.

By Him the spiritual forces of wickedness were humbled—called 'sea monsters' because they swim about amid the billows of the soul.

'But if He should hearken to me, will He indeed judge my words? For even if I be righteous, He will not hearken to me; I shall beseech His judgment.'

But even if He should hearken to me, and truly render judgment and closely examine my words, and I should appear righteous in every account—since God does not judge according to our understanding, but His judgments are loftier and beyond our reach—He will justly not listen to me.

'Therefore I shall rather beseech Him, that He may bring forth His judgments concerning me with loving-kindness.'

He says these things in admiration of the transcendence of God's judgment, virtually saying the words of the Apostle:

'I am conscious of nothing against myself, yet I am not thereby justified.'

He therefore asks to be justified by God through grace.

'And if I call and He answers, I do not believe that He has heard me.'

'Will He not utterly destroy me with a whirlwind of darkness?'—that is: even if I should call upon God and He should be willing to hear my plea, I fear again lest He has not accepted it, and like a storm, or rather a darkness, He will make me vanish.

What he means is this:

The gloom is circular, encompassing on every side.

'Even if,' he says, 'through one respect I should seem to be righteous, through another he convicts me.'

'And he has multiplied my bruises without cause.'

'One thing I know,' he says, 'that I do not understand the cause for which I am thus crushed.'

For this is what 'without cause' seems to signify.

Or he also means this, that God had no need to test me through torments;

for he knew me even before the trials.

This too is what God said to the devil concerning him:

'But you said to destroy his possessions without cause.'

'For he does not allow me to draw breath, but has filled me with bitterness.'

'For indeed he prevails by strength;'

Who then shall withstand his judgment? 'I myself,' he says, 'cannot even draw breath without pain;'

but when I consider the strength of God, I declare that to resist his judgments is an act of rashness.

He says all these things, directing his words against his friends, who suppose that he is being punished on account of sins.

'For even if I am righteous, my mouth will speak impiously;'

To say 'I am righteous'—this very statement itself I take to be impious.

'and though I be blameless, I shall turn out to be crooked.'

For if I should even dare to say that I am blameless, and vindicate myself, this very thing shows me to be crooked and not upright.

This was also once said by the Pharisee, who went down condemned for having said it.

'For whether I have acted impiously, I do not know in my soul, except that my life has been taken from me.'

Again he speaks the Apostle's words: 'I am conscious of nothing against myself, yet I am not thereby justified'—that is, by the very sufferings through which I endure such punishments.

'Wrath destroys the great man and the potentate.'

Reflecting on these things, I say that the wrath of God, in accordance with justice, destroys the one who supposes himself to be great and powerful.

'For the base perish by an extraordinary death;'

And I know indeed that the base too will pay the ultimate penalty,

'but the righteous are mocked, for they have been delivered into the hands of the ungodly.'

Yet the righteous also are mocked—clearly, by the base.

They are mocked because they too are often delivered up to suffer evil.

By saying 'into the hands of the ungodly one,' he seems to be fully persuaded that he has been delivered over to the devil, while remaining ignorant of the reason for which these things were so ordered.

'He covers the faces of its judges;'

But if it is not he himself, who is it? Since he made mention of the devil, having said 'for they have been delivered into the hands of the ungodly,' he accordingly goes on to say:

But sin escapes the notice even of the discerning, since it often approaches under the guise of righteousness;

for if the devil, the author of sin, did not employ cunning, he would not be great, but easily overcome.

These things he has set forth, as a holy man and a prophet, in concealed fashion, in the midst of the discourse.

Then again he turns to narrating his own circumstances, and adds:

'My life is swifter than a runner;'

most swift, whether it be good or worthless.

'They fled away and did not see it.'

Therefore men, being so quickly removed from life, are unable to perceive the particulars of their lives.

'Is there indeed for ships a track of their path, or of an eagle in flight seeking prey?' Just as no trace of merchant vessels can be seen amid the waves, nor of an eagle swooping through the air upon its prey, so no trace of those who die is left behind in this life.

'For even if I say, I will forget as I speak;'

'covering my face, I will groan.'

But even if I should resolve, perhaps, not to sin, forgetfulness, driving out memory, again prepares the way for sinning.

Therefore, on account of this forgetfulness too, I will cover my face and groan.

And teaching this as a general truth, he said:

For forgetfulness, driving out the fear of God, prepares one for sin.

'I tremble in all my limbs;'

'for I know that you will not leave me guiltless.'

In my inward, intelligible members I am shaken, knowing that you will not leave me sinless;

for no one is without sin when examined by the exactness of God.

Since, then, I am impious, why did I not die? But if I have altogether been judged to be impious, it would have been better for me to have died before my impiety.

Such also was what the Savior said concerning Judas, that it would have been good for that man if he had not been born.

As one who loves God, therefore, he said:

'It would have been better for me to die than to be condemned for impiety.'

'For if I should wash myself with snow, and cleanse myself with clean hands, you would still thoroughly plunge me into filth.'

It was the custom among the ancients to cleanse defilements through washings.

And this too, again, was a custom:

whenever they wished to show that they had not shared in a certain sin, they would wash their hands, saying:

'I am innocent of this matter'—just as Pilate also did concerning the Savior.

And David also sang, saying:

'I will wash my hands among the innocent.'

so that even if I were pure, these precise reproofs and the punishments inflicted upon me prove me, on account of the presumption they create, to be defiled and unclean—so much so that even one who touches my garments would seem to be polluted—since everyone supposes that I suffer these things because of a multitude of sins.

He says these things because his friends put forward the torments inflicted upon him as proof that he is a sinner.

Since it was by his torments that he was made to appear impious, and it was not possible to prove the suspicion false from visible things, he wishes to be judged by the true and impartial God himself, trusting greatly in His righteous judgment, and saying, as it were:

'You, my friends, cast your verdicts against me on the basis of what has befallen me;'

'but if the God who cannot lie should be willing to plead his case with me—being impartial and being truth itself—he himself will bear witness that it was not on account of sins that he brought on these torments.'

But that such indeed is the mind of the righteous man, and that out of great love toward God, and out of boldness and confidence concerning His truth, he flees judgment before men but is gladly judged before God, who speaks each thing without falsehood and without error—hear him saying, in what follows, when, conversing with Sophar, having set aside his discussion with his friends as one proceeding erroneously and not according to just judgment, he adds:

'But indeed, I will speak to the Lord'—clearly, the one who cannot lie and is impartial—'and I will plead my case before him, if he is willing;'

'but you are all unjust physicians, healers of nothing but evils.'

Do you see how he turns away from the judgments of men as unjust, and takes refuge in God, the physician of souls and righteous judge? Then, going on, trusting greatly in God's righteous judgment, he takes courage and says:

I know that I will be shown to be righteous, and again elsewhere he says:

'And now, behold, my witness is in heaven, and my advocate is on high.'

Do you see everywhere how he, fleeing the mistaken judgments among men, asks God himself to become both his adversary and his witness? How much love, how much boldness, how much confidence do these words show!

Therefore God also, knowing the mind of men, did not remain silent, since he knew from what disposition the righteous man was speaking, but gave him the victory over his friends and declared that he was not suffering because of sin, but that he might be shown to be righteous.

Knowing, then, this love and confidence of the righteous man toward God, let us in this light hear what is recorded next.

'And do not enter into judgment with your servant, for no living person will be justified before you' — let this not trouble us.

For the great Job too knows that, in comparison with divine righteousness and exactness, no one is righteous.

But his purpose now is not to contend against divine exactness, nor to show that the righteous God is punishing him unjustly, but to refute his friends as liars, who supposed that he was being punished because of sin.

So that the good and loving God also concurred with Job's intent and said plainly that he had not suffered because of impiety, but that the trial was a testing that proved the noble Job, so that he might be shown to be righteous.

'My robe has abhorred me' can also be understood in this way:

either that even his nearest kin abhorred and hated him, or that even his clothing flees him, as if it had come to hate him — that is to say:

'I am not even able to put it on, because of being so covered with sores.'

'For you are not a man like me, with whom I might contend, that we should come together into judgment.'

For would that it were possible, he says, as among men, to be judged before you, the incorruptible judge.

'If only there were a mediator between us, both to reprove and to hear the case between us both.'

'Let him remove his rod from me, and let his fear not confound me.'

'And I will not be afraid, if I speak, for I am not conscious of any wrong in myself, but I am weary in my soul.'

'And would that it were possible to choose as mediator the one who pronounces judgment in the matter.'

He says these things, as we have said, boldly trusting in God's truth, and wishing to refute his friends for not speaking the truth.

For since Job says:

'I do not know that I have sinned such things as to be punished with such things' — and since God declares that he is not punishing on account of sin, what else would the mediator have to do but agree with the words of both, and condemn the friends as having lied? — which indeed God himself later did. Then, as if someone were saying:

'And why do you not set forth your own just claims?' — he teaches by saying:

'I will speak, and I will say what is from my heart, and I will set forth my pleas of justification.'

By 'rod' he means the testing and the torments.

'Confound' is used instead of 'strangle,' 'whirl about,' 'terrify.'

He makes the relief from his torments a token that permission [to plead his case] has been granted him.

'Groaning, I will let loose my words upon myself.'

'I will speak, being overcome by bitterness of soul.'

Observe how he safeguards us against thinking anything improper concerning him.

'For even these things,' he says, 'though groaning and overcome by my afflictions, I will not utter any blasphemy against God, but will turn the words of my despondency against myself.'

He said this because from the beginning he had said:

'Let the day perish on which I was born' — showing that he uttered nothing against God, but turned the words of despondency against himself, and this while overcome by bitterness of soul.

And he all but plainly says:

'Against God I utter nothing at all — may it never be!'

'But if I speak anything at all, I speak under the compulsion of my excessive affliction, and the speaking is not mine, but the words are those of my sickness.'

He shows, then, that he did not even speak words against himself, nor did he utter anything at all, but was practicing philosophy, enduring patiently, and loving silence — were it not for the greatness of his pains, and then also the provocation of his friends compelling him to speak.

He speaks, as we have said, nothing unbecoming or discordant against God, as we have shown throughout all his words, and God himself further attested this by declaring him righteous.

He defends Job, then, for whatever slight and despondent word he uttered at all, on the ground that this is simply what it means to be human, and not to bear one's torments without any pain at all; and he points to the excess of his calamities, the exactness of his virtue, the simplicity and guilelessness of his character speaking with boldness as a son to a father, and the fact that in all his words he uttered nothing harsh concerning God, but showed only that he was not unreasonably longing for death, and that the friends' suspicion concerning him was untrue; and, the sum of it all, the very incorruptible verdict of God himself, which declared him righteous.

'For if it is God who justifies, who is he that condemns?' says the holy apostle somewhere.

'Do not teach me to be impious: {And why have you judged me thus?}' — 'these things I beseech,' he says, all but saying:

'Put an end, O Master, to the evils against me, lest, being overwhelmed as is natural, I utter something incoherent, or lest, growing faint-hearted under my torments, I let slip a word of impiety.'

And in a way, by another line of reasoning, he seems to be expressing the same thought as the blessed David.

For as he [David] says that 'the Lord will not leave the rod of sinners upon the lot of the righteous, lest the righteous stretch out their hands to iniquity,' and beseeches that the unrighteous should not for long prevail over the righteous, lest the righteous, being hemmed in by necessity, should themselves also do something impious — so also he [Job] expresses this same thought, saying:

'Do not prolong my torments for long, O Master, lest, as is likely, I do something against my will.'

'And why have you judged me thus? Or is it good for you if I do wrong?' — the word 'why,' as we have said many times above, he uses not in a causal sense, but in a beseeching sense, as if saying:

'It is not good for you, O Master, nor pleasing, that I should be turned to wrongdoing; have mercy, then.'

For many, unable to bear their misfortunes, have turned to wrongdoing.

And see whether the apostle too, having something like this in mind, said: