02 June

Bible In 365 Days                                  

Job 5-7

Job 5

Proceeding, Eliphaz asked Job to whom he would appeal, to which of the holy ones, that is, as against the truth which he had declared, or in defense of himself. In the light of evident guilt, all vexation and jealousy, such as Job had manifested, constitute such sin as produces final undoing. His attempted explanation of the meaning of suffering he then crystallized into proverbial form:

Affliction cometh not forth of the dust, Neither doth trouble spring out of the ground. That is to say again that there must have been a sowing for such a harvest.

Eliphaz then proceeded to utter his advice to Job by telling him what he would do. He "would seek unto God," and to Him commit his cause. This declaration is followed by a passage of great beauty, in which he tells of the faithfulness and might of the Most High. In order to persuade his suffering friend to such action, he described the confidence and ultimate deliverance and restoration which would come to him if his trust was in God. It is all very beautiful, but absolutely short-sighted. Eliphaz had no knowledge of those secret councils in heaven, and was making the mistake of attempting to press all things into the compass of his philosophy.

Job 6

Job's answer is a magnificent and terrible outcry. First, he speaks of his pain as a protest against the method of Eliphaz. His reply is not to the deduction which Eliphaz' argument suggested, but rather to the charge it made, of unreasonableness and folly manifest in his lamentation. Eliphaz had used terms of strong condemnation. Job declared, in effect, that he did not understand the cry because he did not know the pain. His vexation and calamity should be set over against each other, poised in fair balances. If this were done, the calamity would be found to be so heavy as to excuse even the rashness of speech. The wail is always evidence of a want. The wild ass does not bray when he has grass, nor the ox low over his fodder. Having declared this, his sorrow seemed to surge on his soul anew, and he cried out for death because his strength was not equal to the strain thus placed upon him. His strength was not "the strength of stones," nor was his "flesh of brass."

Job then turned on his friends with reproaches of fine satire. He had expected kindness, but was disappointed. Here there would seem to be reference not merely to the attitude of Eliphaz, but to that attitude as a culminating cruelty. His eyes were wandering back to olden days, and he spoke of "my brethren," likening them to a brook in the desert to which the traveling caravans turned, only to find them consumed and passed. He declared that his friends were nothing. Reproach merged into a fierce demand that instead of generalization and allusion,

there should be definiteness in the charges they made against him. "What," says he, "doth your arguing reprove?" There is a majesty in this impatience with men who philosophize in the presence of agony, and it is impossible to read it without a consciousness of profound sympathy with the suffering man.

Job 7

Without waiting for their reply, Job broke out into a new lamentation, more bitter than the first, for it came out of a heart whose sorrow was aggravated by the misunderstanding of friends. Indeed, its very strength was a new protest against the only open charge Eliphaz had made, namely, of sin and foolishness in complaining at all.

In this lamentation there are two movements: first, a great complaint concerning the stress and misery of life (1- 10), and, second, a complaint directed against God (11-21). The toil of life is strenuous indeed. It is a warfare. Man is a hireling, a servant, whose labor issues in nothing, and whose rest is disturbed with tossing. Nothing is satisfying, for nothing is lasting, and figure is piled on figure to emphasize this: a weaver's shuttle, wind, the look of the eye, the vanishing cloud. There was absolutely no ray of hope in this outlook on life. Because of it Job complained not only of life, but directly against God. It was determined. "I will not refrain . . . I will speak .. . I will complain."

How terribly the vision of God was blurred in these days of suffering is illustrated as the man cried out that God would not let him alone, and asked why he must be tried every moment. It is such a cry and complaint that none can understand who has not passed into some sorrow equally severe. In saying this we simply state the fact, and those tempted to criticism of the attitude should remember that God patiently bore and waited, knowing that at the back of the complaint was an unshaken confidence, even though for a moment the surfaces were swept with the hurricanes of doubt blowing up out of the darkness.