My soul is weary of my life. Job 10:1 On the causes of men's being weary of life Hugh Blair, D. D. A sentiment which surely, if any situation can justify it, was allowable in the case of Job. Let us examine in what circumstances this feeling may be deemed excusable; in what it is to be held sinful; and under what restrictions we may, on any occasion, be permitted to say, "My soul is weary of my life." I. AS THE SENTIMENT OF A DISCONTENTED MAN. With whom it is the effusion of spleen, vexation, and dissatisfaction with life, arising from causes neither laudable nor justifiable. 1. This weariness of life is often found among the idle. They have so many vacant hours, and are so much at a loss how to fill up their time, that their spirits utterly sink. The idle are doomed to suffer the natural punishment of their inactivity and folly. 2. Among the luxurious and dissipated, such complaints are still more frequent. They have run the whole race of pleasure, but they have run it with such inconsiderate speed that it terminates in weariness and vexation of spirit. Satiated, weary of themselves, the complaint bursts forth of odious life and a miserable world. Their weariness is no other than the judgment of God overtaking them for their vices and follies. Their complaints of misery are entitled to no compassion. They are the authors of their own misery. 3. Then there are those who have embittered life to themselves by the consciousness of criminal deeds. There is no wonder that such persons should lose their relish for life. To the complaints of such persons no remedy can be furnished, except what arises from the bitterness of sincere and deep repentance. II. AS THE SENTIMENT OF THOSE IN SITUATIONS OF DISTRESS. These are so variously multiplied in the world, and are often so oppressive, that assuredly it is not uncommon to hear the afflicted complain that they are weary of life. Their complaints, if not always allowable, yet certainly are more excusable than those which flow from the sources of dissatisfaction already mentioned. They are sufferers, not so much through their own misconduct, as through the appointment of Providence; and therefore to persons in this situation it may seem more needful to offer consolation than to give admonition. However, as the evils which produce this impatience of life are of different sorts, a distinction must be made as to the situations which can most excuse it. 1. The exclamation may be occasioned by deep and overwhelming grief. As of bereavement. 2. Or by great reverses of worldly fortune. To persons under such calamities, sympathy is due. 3. Continuance of long and severe disease. In this case Job's complaint may assuredly be forgiven more than in any other. III. AS THE SENTIMENT OF THOSE WHO ARE TIRED OF THE VANITY OF THE WORLD. Tired of its insipid enjoyments, and its perpetually revolving circle of trifles and follies. They feel themselves made for something greater and nobler. In this view the sentiment of the text may sometimes be that of a devout man. But, however sincere, their devotion is not altogether of a rational and chastened kind. Let us beware of all such imaginary refinements as produce a total disrelish of our present condition. They are for the most part grafted on disappointed pursuits, or on a melancholy and splenetic turn of mind. This life may not compare with the life to come, but such as it is, it is the gift of God. One great cause of men's becoming weary of life is grounded on the mistaken views of it which they have formed, and the false hopes which they have entertained from it. They have expected a scene of enjoyment, and when they meet with disappointments and distresses, they complain of life as if it had cheated and betrayed them. God ordained no such possession for man on earth as continued pleasure. For the wisest purposes He designed our state to be chequered with pleasure and pain. As such let us receive it, and make the best of what is doomed to be our lot. ( Hugh Blair, D. D. ) Weariness of life and its remedies J. Brewster. There is a love of life which depends not upon ourselves at all, and which we cannot help feeling at all times. It is the pure instinct of our mortal nature. And life is well worthy of our estimation and care. And yet there is such a thing as weariness of life. Men may be ready to say, "My soul is weary of my life." I. FROM THEIR OWN SINFUL ABUSE OF LIFE AND ITS BLESSINGS. Mankind usually expect too much from the present life. Some try to find this unwarranted enjoyment in earthly things, by carrying every gratification to excess, by giving themselves wholly to the love of present pleasures. They of course experience disappointment in this vain and sinful pursuit, as God intended they should do. They become weary of themselves and weary of life; and all this purely owing to their own folly in perverting their way, and abusing the good gifts of God. Others desire only lawful gratifications, and seek them in an orderly manner. They propose even to themselves to be useful in life. They plan very wisely, and proceed very commendably in all respects but one, and that one is, that they are merely looking to the creature, and leaving God, in great measure, out of view. They seek their happiness more in the enjoyment of His gifts, than in making it their aim to please the gracious Bestower of them all. These also are disappointed. Their schemes misgive; or, if they succeed, they themselves do not find in them anything like satisfaction to their immortal nature. They begin to blame this world, to blame their fellow creatures, and to become weary even of life. So did Solomon, Ahab, and Haman. This weariness of life would not be blamable if it was seen to have the good effect of checking men's immoderate expectations from present enjoyments. But it does not usually serve such salutary purposes. This weariness is one of man's own creating. Men try to make the animal part of their nature supply the wants also of their spiritual part. II. FROM THEIR SORROWS IN LIFE AND FROM THEIR LOSS OR WANT OF ITS BLESSINGS. When the objects of our care and affection are suffering distress, or are taken away from us, we must sorrow severely, and we are not forbidden to do so. But we are cautioned against being "overcome of much sorrow," and there is danger of indulging even excusable griefs, till we become ready to say, "My soul is weary of my life." Then "we" show that we are forgetting the use of these afflictions and sorrows, and we defeat the very end of these sorrows. The furnace of affliction is the refining of our souls. III. FROM THEIR INABILITY TO ENJOY THE BLESSINGS OF LIFE. Bodily pains, diseased and decaying health, not only cause distress to our natural feelings, they also disable us from discharging those duties in which we might find relief from many griefs and troubles of mind. In extreme agonies of pain, life cannot be felt as anything else than a burden. Many, though free from excessive bodily tortures, are nevertheless made to possess "months of vanity," and have "wearisome nights." To bear such trials without being weary of life is no easy duty. But it never can become anyone to express weariness of that life which God, in His wisdom, sees meet to prolong. The continued sufferer may have much to do, and much to learn. Be not weary of life while you are in the way of acquiring greater meetness for heaven. IV. FROM SPIRITUAL DESIRES OF A BETTER LIFE AND ITS BETTER BLESSINGS. There is a weariness of life that flows from a powerful feeling of religion itself, which we are too much inclined to excuse, or even desirous to indulge. It is found in emotional young persons under first serious impressions; and in those who are occasionally visited with high satisfactions of a spiritual nature; and in those oppressed with the power of an evil nature, and witnessing much of the wickedness of the world. They are defeated in the good which they wished to accomplish, and they are distressed by the prevalence in their own hearts of the evil which they wished to overcome. They are ready to say with the Psalmist, "Oh that I had wings like a dove! then would I flee away, and be at rest." But it is unwarrantable to prefer heaven to earth, merely for the sake of your own ease and gratification. To do so is more a token of selfishness than sanctification of spirit. ( J. Brewster. ) Great music uncomplaining Christian Age. In a charming essay on music, a recent writer has gathered up a great deal in one telling sentence. He speaks of the various moods of the world's masterpieces of music — the romance, the sorrow, the aspiration, the joy, the sublimity expressed in them, and he adds that there is only one mood forever unrepresented, for, "Great music never complains." At first, this seems too sweeping. We remember so many minor keys, so many tragic chords, in the best music. But, as we think over it longer, it becomes truer and truer. Great music has its minor keys, its pathetic passages, its longing, yearning notes; but they always lead on to aspiration, to hope, or to resignation and peace. Mere complaint is not in them. The reason, after all, is simple. Complaint is selfish, and high music, like any other great art, forgets self in larger things. The complaining note has no possible place in noble harmonies, even though they be sad. So, if we want to make music out of our lives, we must learn to omit complaint. Some young people think it rather fine and noble to be discontented, to complain of narrow surroundings, to dwell on the minor notes. But it is well to remember that the one thing to avoid in singing is a whine in the voice; and whining is perilously close to any form of pathos. "Great music never complains." That is a good motto to hang up on the wall of one's mind, over our keyboard of feeling, so to speak. The harmonies of our lives will be braver and sweeter the more we follow this thought. Without it, fret and discord will come, and mar the music that might be, and that is meant to be. ( Christian Age. ) Do not condemn me. Job 10:2 The cry of penitence Essex Congregational Remembrancer. I. THIS IS THE LANGUAGE OF A SINCERE PENITENT. It expresses a dread of condemnation, and a fear of future punishment. This impression is awakened by — 1. The recollection of past sins. 2. By a sense of present suffering. II. IT IMPLIES THAT THERE ARE SOME PERSONS WHOM GOD WILL CERTAINLY CONDEMN. The sentence to "depart" will be pronounced by the righteous Judge, and it will be addressed especially to three classes of individuals. To the prayerless, the self-righteous, and those who live in the habitual practice of sin. III. IT DIRECTS US TO THE MEANS BY WHICH THIS FINAL SENTENCE MAY BE AVERTED. 1. You must justify the character and conduct of God. 2. Make humble and sincere acknowledgment of your sinfulness. 3. Cheerfully acquiesce in the method of Divine mercy. IV. IT SUGGESTS SOME IMPORTANT MOTIVES TO PRODUCE IN OUR MINDS TRUE AND EVANGELICAL REPENTANCE. 1. The first class of motives is addressed to our fears. 2. From the strivings of the Spirit. 3. From the glorious dispensation under which we live. ( Essex Congregational Remembrancer. ) Shew me wherefore Thou contendest with me. The sweet uses of adversity It needs but a short sight for us to discover that if God contendeth with man, it must be a contention of mercy. There must be a design of love in this. Address — I. THE CHILD OF GOD. Sometimes to question God is wicked. But this is a question that may be asked. 1. My first answer on God's part is this: it may be that God is contending with thee, that He may show His own power in upholding thee. He loves to hear His saints tried, that the whole world may see that there is none like them on the face of the earth. What noble work is this, that while God is casting down His child with one hand, He should be holding him up with the other. This is why God contends with thee; to glorify Himself by showing to angels, to men, to devils, how He can put such strength into poor, puny man, that he can contend with his Maker, and become a prevailing prince like Israel, who as a prince had power with God and prevailed. 2. The Lord is doing this to develop thy graces. There are some of thy graces that would never be discovered if it were not for thy trials. Thy faith never looks so grand in summer weather as it does in winter. Love is too often like a glow worm, that showeth but little light, except it be in the midst of surrounding darkness. Hope itself is like a star, not to be Seen in the sunshine of prosperity, and only to be discovered in the night of adversity. It is real growth that is the result of these trials. God may take away your comforts and your privileges, to make you the better Christians. 3. It may be that the Lord contends with thee because thou hast some secret sin which is doing thee sore damage. Trials often discover sins — sins which we should never have found out if it had not been for them. The houses in Russia are very greatly infested with rats and mice. Perhaps a stranger would scarcely notice them at first, but the time when you discover them is when the house is on fire — then they pour out in multitudes. And so doth God sometimes burn up our comforts to make our hidden sins run out; and then He enables us to knock them on the head, and get rid of them. That may be the reason of your trial, to put an end to some long-festered sin; or to prevent some future sin. 4. We must have fellowship with Christ in His sufferings, being made conformable unto His death. Hast thou never thought that none can be like the Man of Sorrow, unless they have sorrows too? Think not that thou canst be like the thorn-crowned head, and yet never feel the thorn. God is chiselling you — you are but a rough block — He is making you into the image of Christ; and that sharp chisel is taking away much which prevents your being like Him. Sweet is the affliction which gives us fellowship with Christ. 5. It may be that the Lord contendeth with thee to humble thee. We are all too proud. We shall have many blows before we are brought down to the right mark; and it is because we are so continually getting up, that God is so continually putting us down again. II. ADDRESS THE SEEKING SINNER. Who may be wondering that he has found no peace or comfort. Perhaps — 1. God is contending with you for awhile, because as yet you are not thoroughly awakened. Christ will not heal your wound until He has probed it to its very core. 2. God may be contending with you to try your earnestness. 3. Perhaps you are harbouring some sin. 4. Perhaps you do not thoroughly understand the plan of salvation. ( C. H. Spurgeon . ) The design of God in affliction T. Kidd. Good men who have excelled in a particular virtue have sometimes lamentably failed in its exercise — e.g. , Moses, Peter, Job. The text refers to a season of heavy affliction. The spirit of Job was oppressed; his mind was harassed; it was full of confusion; and we wonder not that his language betrays the perplexity which he felt. I. A GOOD MAN HAS CONVERSE WITH GOD. In all circumstances, whether of ease or pain, of health or sickness, he thinks of his God, and highly estimates communion with Him. In affliction we speak to ourselves; we speak to our friends; but our best employment is converse with God. In our approaches to Him, He permits us to utter whatever interests our minds, to express the inmost feelings of our hearts. II. A GOOD MAN DEPRECATES AN EVIL. "Do not condemn me." Job refers probably to the sentiment of his friends. They mistook his character. Job says to God, "Do not Thou condemn me." No doubt Job had low views of himself in the sight of God. This applies to ourselves. Do we merit condemnation from God? What shall we plead in arrest of judgment? Nothing less than the mediation of Christ. III. A GOOD MAN SOLICITS A FAVOUR. "Shew me wherefore Thou contendest with me." "Afflictest" is a better word here than "contendest." It is a warrantable request, a prayer full of propriety. Affliction is from God, and He has some design in it, which it is important for us to ascertain. Affliction is sent to convince of sin; to prevent sin; as a test of principles; to promote holiness; to advance our usefulness. What then do you know of converse with God, and how is the privilege improved? ( T. Kidd. ) Is it good unto Thee that Thou shouldest oppress? Job 10:3-17 Job's mistaken views of his sufferings Homilist. I. AS INCONSISTENT WITH ALL HIS IDEAS OF HIS MAKER. 1. As inconsistent with His goodness. "Is it good unto Thee that Thou shouldest oppress, that Thou shouldest despise the work of Thine hands?" I thought Thee benevolent and merciful, but in my suffering I feel Thee to be malign. There is a strong tendency in all men under suffering to regard the Almighty as anything but good. 2. With His justice. "And shine upon the counsel of the wicked." Job saw wicked men around him, strong and hale in body, buoyant in animal spirits, and prosperous in worldly affairs, whilst he who was in his deepest heart in sympathy with right, and the God of right, was reduced to the utmost distress. He failed to see justice in this. 3. With His greatness. "Hast Thou eyes of flesh," etc. I cannot reconcile the sufferings with which Thou dost afflict an insignificant creature like me with Thine omniscience and eternity. II. AS AN UNRIGHTEOUS DISPLAY OF ARBITRARY POWER. "Thou knowest that I am not wicked," etc. Job does not regard himself as absolutely holy. The Omniscient One knew he was not guilty of that hypocrisy with which his friends had charged him. Where, then, is the righteousness of his afflictions? III. AS CONTRARY TO WHAT THE DIVINE ORGANISATION AND PRESERVATION OF HIS EXISTENCE LED HIM TO EXPECT. In the eighth and two following verses he ascribes the formation of his body to God. He ascribes his sustentation as well. He seemed astonished that the God who thus produced and supported him should thus mar his beauty, destroy his health, and overwhelm him with misery. This is, in truth, a perplexity to us as well as to Job. IV. AS BAFFLING ALL ATTEMPTS TO UNDERSTAND. "And these things Thou hast hid in Thine heart." If there is a reason, it is in Thy heart shut up and hid from me, and I cannot reach it. The more he thought, the more was Job embarrassed with the mysteries of his being. Conclusion — 1. The greatness of man's capability for suffering. To what inexpressible wretchedness and agony was Job now reduced, both in soul and in body. 2. The absoluteness of God's power over us. We are in His bands, all of us. 3. The value of Christianity as an interpreter of suffering. Job's great "confusion" in his suffering seemed to arise from the idea that unless a man was a great sinner there was no reason for great suffering. Afflictions to good men are disciplinary, not punitive. ( Homilist. ) That Thou shouldest despise the work of Thine hands Man is the work of God Joseph Caryl. Job alludes to artificers who, having made an excellent piece, will not destroy or break it in pieces; they are very tender of their work, yea, they are apt to boast and grow proud of it. Man was the masterpiece of the whole visible creation. The Lord needs not to be ashamed of, neither doth He despise any part of His work, much less this, which is the best and noblest part of it. As the body, so the soul of man is the work of God's hand. His power and wisdom wrought it, and work mightily in it. In regard of bodily substance, the most inferior creatures claim kindred of man, and he may be compared to the beast that perisheth; but in regard of the soul, man transcends them all, and may challenge a nearness, if not an equality with the angels. Take three cautions. 1. Be not proud of what ye are, all is the work of God. How beautiful or comely, how wise or holy soever ye are, it is not of yourselves. 2. Despise not what others are or have; though they are not such exact pieces, though they have not such excellent endowments as yourselves, yet they are what the hand of God hath wrought them, and they have what the hand of God hath wrought in them. 3. Despise not what yourselves are; to do so is a sin, and a sin very common. Men are ashamed to be seen as God hath made them; few are ashamed to be seen what the devil hath made them. Many are troubled at small defects of the outward man. They who come after God to mend His work, lest they should be despised, will but make themselves more despicable. ( Joseph Caryl. ) Thine hands have made me. Job 10:8 Creation, the pledge of God's guardianship Henry Melvill, B. D. Though Job reached a wrong conclusion, he was arguing on a right principle. The patriarch's argument is this — As we are the creatures, the workmanship of Almighty God, we may expect Him to take care of us, and that as God, any opposite conduct may justly excite surprise, and be thought at variance with the acknowledged fact that the Divine hands have "made us and fashioned us together round about." This argument is susceptible of being wrought out into many and instructive shapes. The remembrance of our creation should animate us to expect supplies of grace and instruction. To the benevolence and goodness of God must be referred the production of the multiplied tribes of living things. God caused life to pervade immensity because, as He Himself is everywhere, He would that everywhere there should be objects of His bounty, beings with capacity and provision for enjoyment. Every creature may trace its origin to the benevolence of God, and therefore every creature might infer, from its having been formed, that its Maker was ready to satisfy its wants, yea, to fulfil its desires, so far as those desires might be lawfully entertained. What is creation to me, but a register of the carefulness of the Almighty in providing for my happiness during my sojourn here below? Shall I think it unlikely that God would take measures for my good in reference to that eternity on which I must enter at death? Job seems to reason that, in place of destroying him, God who had made might have been expected to save him. It is an argument from what had been done for him in his natural capacity, to what might have been looked for in his spiritual capacity. And Job's reason is every way accurate. ( Henry Melvill, B. D. ) Thy visitation hath preserved my spirit. Job 10:12-16 Acknowledgment of and appeal to God Christian Observer. Job addresses God as his Creator, Preserver, and Benefactor; he seems to ask, why, knowing his frailty, He laid upon him such burdens as those which he was called upon to bear. He appears to have felt some difficulty in reconciling the past mercies of God with His present afflicting dispensations. Yet, amidst all, he acknowledges that his Creator doubtless had wise, though to him unknown, reasons for His dispensations. "These things," said he, "Thou hast hid in Thine heart." They were planned in Thine infinitely wise, holy, and beneficent, though unsearchable counsels. "I know this is with Thee." To me, indeed, it is a source of trouble and perplexity; but to Thee it is plain. And then, as though glancing at the righteousness of God's law, on the one hand, and, on the other, at the sinfulness of mankind generally, and in particular at his own personal transgressions, with a sense of the imperfection of his best obedience, he adds, "If I be wicked, woe unto me; and if I be righteous, yet will I not lift up my head. I am full of confusion; therefore see mine affliction, for it increaseth." I. First, then, we have JOB'S ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF HIS INFINITE OBLIGATIONS TO GOD. "Thou hast granted me life and favour, and Thy visitation hath preserved my spirit." 1. The blessing of creation. "Thou hast granted me life." He does not attribute his existence to chance, or necessity; but speaks of it expressly as a grant from the Almighty; a grant bestowed for the most wise, benevolent, and momentous purposes. Practical atheism is at all times too common, even among many who profess and call themselves Christians. How few, comparatively, are accustomed, like Job, constantly to refer their being to God; with a deep impression of what they owe to Him; with a practical conviction that they are not their own; and with a due sense of their obligation to live to His glory. Yet it is certain that an habitual feeling of reverence towards God as our Creator, though not the whole of religion, is a necessary and indispensable part of it. The Gospel of Christ, in pointing out to us other truths, essential to be known by us as fallen and guilty creatures, does not overlook, but on the contrary uniformly takes for granted and displays this first natural and unalterable bond of union between the Creator and His creatures. The grant of life was the first benefit we were capable of enjoying, and it opened the way to all that followed. 2. But to the benefit of creation Job adds that of preservation. "Thy visitation hath preserved my spirit." The same Almighty hand that formed and animated the human frame, sustains it amidst the perils to which it is every moment exposed. We do not live by chance, any more than we were at first formed by chance. One moment's absence of that Divine visitation which preserves our spirit, would suffice to plunge us back — we know not whither; all our capacities for happiness, all our hopes for this world, and those brighter expectations which, as Christians, we cherish beyond the grave, would be utterly extinguished. This powerful and unceasing visitation of the Creator preserves all things in their appointed rank and order; and to it we are indebted for our continued capacity for partaking of the blessings to which our creation introduced us. 3. To sum up the whole, Job adds the mention of that Divine "favour" without which our creation and preservation had been but the commencement and prolongation of misery. How thickly, how interminably do His benefits cluster around us! By night and by day, in infancy and in manhood, in childhood and old age, in our personal and social relations, in our families and in the world, in sickness not less than in health, in adversity not less than in prosperity, He pours into our cup blessings infinitely beyond our deservings. And here opens before us the most wonderful of all proofs of His favour. Here beams upon us the stupendous revelation of the redemption that is in Christ. Here we behold why even the sinner, to whom, as a sinner, no Divine approbation can be exhibited, is yet spared and crowned with so many benefits, in order that he may turn to the God whom he had forsaken, seek the mercy which he had despised, and be won by the long-suffering which he had perhaps profanely made a motive for a continuance in his sins. Whether we consider the awful magnitude of our guilt, or the costly nature of the sacrifice made to atone for it, or the freeness and amplitude of the pardon bestowed upon us; we shall see that this was indeed the climax of Divine favour; to which our creation and preservation were but preparative; and the issue of which, to all who humbly avail themselves of it, will be an eternity of happiness in the world to come. II. CONSIDER THE JUDICIAL RELATION IN WHICH HE DESCRIBES HIMSELF AS STANDING TOWARDS HIM AND HIS CONSCIOUS GUILT AND CONFUSION AT THE PROSPECT. We might have supposed that his expressive description of God's past mercies would have been succeeded by the warmest language of hope and confidence. And thus would it have been, had no obstacle interposed. The angels in heaven, in reviewing the benefits conferred upon them by their beneficent Creator, blend with their emotions of love and gratitude no symptoms of apprehension or alarm. They are not "full of confusion," while they survey the mercies of Him who "granted them existence and favour, and whose visitation preserves their spirit." The past manifestations of God's overflowing bounty are to them a pledge for the present; and the present for the future. But not so with man, when duly conscious of the ungrateful return which he has made for the bounties of his Almighty Benefactor. For every relationship involves certain duties; and most of all, the relationship of a creature to his Creator. The very bond of this relationship, on the side of man, was perfect love, confidence, and obedience. He had a law given him to obey, and he was bound by every tie to obey it. A creature, if guiltless, would not tremble for the consequences of his own conduct under such a law; but what are the actual circumstances of man? Job seems to exhibit them, in the text, under a threefold view. Supposing, first, a case which may be considered as the ordinary average of human character, "If I sin"; next, a case of peculiar atrocity, "If I be wicked"; thirdly, a case of unusual moral rectitude, "If I be righteous" — and in all these he shows the condition in which we stand before God. 1. "If I sin, Thou markest me and Thou wilt not acquit me from mine iniquity." No extraordinary degree of profligacy seems to be here supposed; nothing more is stated than what we all acknowledge to be applicable to ourselves; for who is he that sinneth not? Yet how stands our condition under this aspect? First we learn that God "marks us"; His omniscient eye is upon all our ways. "Thou wilt not acquit me." How fearful the condition of a creature thus exposed by his own sinful conduct to the just wrath of his Creator! Well might Job exclaim, "I am full of confusion." For who shall stand before God when He is displeased? Who shall stay His hand when it is stretched out to inflict punishment? 2. "If I be wicked, woe unto me." The degree of guilt marked by this expression seems to be more flagrant than that implied in the former. The conclusion in this case is therefore most clear; for if every sin is marked, if no iniquity is followed by acquittal, then woe indeed to the hardened, the deliberate transgressor! 3. "If I be righteous, yet will I not lift up my head." Job cannot here refer to perfect and unerring holiness of heart and conduct — for to such a degree of sanctity no human being can lay claim; if he could, he might justly lift up his head; but he doubtless speaks comparatively, taking man at his best estate; selecting the most moral, the most upright; then, in this most favourable case, showing the utter incompetence of man to stand justified in the sight of his Creator. So imperfect are our best actions, so mixed are our purest motives, that, far from challenging the rewards of merit, we must acknowledge ourselves, on an impartial survey, to deserve the punishment of our aggravated disobedience. At best we are unprofitable servants. "To us belongeth shame and confusion of face." The friends of Job thought that he wished to try this experiment; that he justified himself before God; but his affliction had taught him a lesson more suitable to his frail and fallen condition: so that, instead of lifting up his head, his language was, "Whom, though I were righteous, I would not answer; but I would make supplication to my Judge"; or, in the corresponding sentiment of the text, "See Thou mine affliction, for it increaseth." III. CONSIDER HIS HUMBLE APPEAL TO GOD TO HAVE COMPASSION UPON HIM. He claims no merit; he proffers no gift. He had acknowledged God's mercies to him; and confessed his inability to stand before His justice. What, then, is his hope of escape? It is in substance the language of the publican, and of every true penitent in every age, "God, be merciful to me, a sinner." His affliction was increasing; nothing but despair lay before him; but in his extremity he applies, where none ever rightly applied in vain, to the infinite Source of mercy and compassion. "See Thou mine affliction." How excellent is the example which he here sets before us! In every exigency of life, or when weighed down with the burden of our sins before God, let us betake ourselves to Him who will compassionate our weakness, assuage our sorrows, and forgive our transgressions. Happy is it for us that He is not a God afar off, but is at all times, as it were, within reach of our humble petitions. Let us thus approach Him with the language of Job; with fervent acknowledgments of His goodness, and of our own ingratitude; of His infinite justice, and our own unrighteousness; with self-condemnation on the one hand, and a humble trust in His mercy in Christ Jesus on the other — and then will He look with pity upon our affliction, then will He pardon all our iniquities. For no sooner had Job practically acquired this just view of himself and of God; no sooner had he said, "I have heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear; but now mine eye seeth Thee: wherefore I a

Benson Commentary Job 10:1 My soul is weary of my life; I will leave my complaint upon myself; I will speak in the bitterness of my soul. Job 10:1 . My soul is weary of my life — My soul is weary of dwelling in this rotten and miserable body; or, I am, from my heart or soul, weary of my life. Sol. Jarchi’s comment is, My soul loathes itself because I am alive. The Hebrew, however, ???? ????? ???? , naketa napshi bechaji, may be properly rendered, My soul is cut off while I live; that is, I am dead while I live; I am in a manner buried alive. I will leave my complaint upon myself — I will continue to complain: and will take upon my self the hazard of so doing, and be willing to bear it. Let what will come on me, I must give my sorrows vent. Thus Ab. Ezra, “I will not restrain my grief, but leave or suffer it to take its course.” I will speak in the bitterness of my soul — My extreme misery forceth my complaints from me. Job 10:2 I will say unto God, Do not condemn me; shew me wherefore thou contendest with me. Job 10:2 . I will say unto God, Do not condemn me — Hebrew, ?? ???????? , al tarshigneeni, Do not pronounce me to be a wicked man; as my friends do; neither deal with me as such, as I confess thou mightest do, by thy sovereign power, and in rigorous justice: O discover my integrity by removing this stroke, for which my friends condemn me. Wherefore — For what ends and reasons, and for what sins; for I am not conscious to myself of any peculiar sins by which I have deserved to be made the most miserable of all men. When God afflicts, he contends with us: when he contends with us, there is always a reason for it. And it is desirable to know what that reason is, that we may forsake whatever he has a controversy with us for. Job 10:3 Is it good unto thee that thou shouldest oppress, that thou shouldest despise the work of thine hands, and shine upon the counsel of the wicked? Job 10:3 . Is it good unto thee? — Dost thou take any pleasure in it, that those shouldest oppress? — By thy absolute and irresistible power, without regard to that justice and clemency by which thou usest to govern mankind. Shouldest despise the work of thy hands — Show thy contempt of thy creatures, either by denying them protection, or by destroying them. And shine upon the counsel of the wicked — That is, by the methods of thy providence seem to favour the practices of wicked men, to whom thou givest prosperity and success, while thou frownest upon me and other good men. Far be it from Job to think that God did him wrong. But he is at a loss to reconcile his providences with his justice. And so other good men have often been, and will be, until the day shall declare it. Job 10:4 Hast thou eyes of flesh? or seest thou as man seeth? Job 10:4 . Hast thou eyes of flesh? — No. Eyes of flesh cannot see in the dark: but darkness hideth not from God. Eyes of flesh are but in one place at a time, and can see but a little way. But the eyes of the Lord are in every place, and run to and fro through the whole earth. Eyes of flesh will shortly be darkened by age, and shut up by death. But the eyes of God are ever the same, nor does his sight ever decay. Or seest thou as man — Man sees the outside only, and judges by appearances: but thou seest my heart. Job 10:5 Are thy days as the days of man? are thy years as man's days, Job 10:5 . Are thy days as the days of man? — Man’s time is short and uncertain, and therefore he must improve it, and diligently search out the crimes of malefactors, lest by death he lose the opportunity of doing justice: but thou art eternal, and seest at one view all men’s hearts, and all their actions, present and to come; and therefore thou dost not need to proceed with me in this manner, by making so long a scrutiny into my heart and life. Job 10:6 That thou inquirest after mine iniquity, and searchest after my sin? Job 10:6-7 . That thou inquirest, &c., and searchest after my sin — Keeping me so long upon the rack, to compel me to accuse myself. Thou knowest I am not wicked — That is a hypocrite, or an ungodly man, as my friends account me. There is none that can deliver, &c. — Thou art the supreme ruler of the world; therefore I must wait thy time, and throw myself on thy mercy, in submission to thy sovereign will. “It would be injurious to the character of Job,” says Mr. Peters, “should we interpret in a severe and rigorous sense, as it is certain his friends too often did, his frequent protestations of his innocence, and his bold appeals to the supreme Judge to prove and try him; for where he is thus strenuous in asserting his integrity, it is only in opposition to the notion which those mistaken friends had entertained of him, namely, that he had been guilty of some gross sins, which he had the art to hide from the world, but that he was in reality a wicked man, and a hypocrite in his behaviour. This is what Job utterly denies and disclaims, though he nowhere arrogates to himself perfect innocence or freedom from sin.” Job 10:7 Thou knowest that I am not wicked; and there is none that can deliver out of thine hand. Job 10:8 Thine hands have made me and fashioned me together round about; yet thou dost destroy me. Job 10:8 . Thy hands have made me, &c., round about — That is, all of me; all the faculties of my soul, and all the parts of my body, which are now overspread with sores and ulcers; I am wholly thy creature and workmanship, made by thee and for thee. Yet thou dost destroy me — Hebrew, ?????? , teballegneeni, swallow me up; namely, without any eminent provocation of mine; as if thou didst delight in doing and undoing, in making and then destroying thy creatures. Job 10:9 Remember, I beseech thee, that thou hast made me as the clay; and wilt thou bring me into dust again? Job 10:9 . Remember, thou hast made me as the clay — I was formed by thee as a potter makes a vessel of clay; so this may note both the frailty of man’s nature, which of itself decays and perishes, and doth not need such violent shocks to overthrow it; and the excellence of the divine artifice commended from the meanness of the materials; which is an argument why God should not destroy it. And will thou bring me? &c. — Or, rather, without an interrogation, thou wilt bring me into dust again — Out of which I was made: I must die by the course of nature, and by the sentence of thy law; and, therefore, while I do live, give me some ease and comfort. Job 10:10 Hast thou not poured me out as milk, and curdled me like cheese? Job 10:10 . Hast thou not poured me out as milk? — Thus he modestly and accurately describes God’s admirable work in forming the fœtus in the womb, out of a small and liquid substance, gradually coagulated and condensed, as milk is curdled into cheese, into the exquisite frame of man’s body. Job 10:11 Thou hast clothed me with skin and flesh, and hast fenced me with bones and sinews. Job 10:11 . Thou hast clothed me with skin — Covered my inward and more noble parts, which are first formed. So he proceeds in describing man’s formation gradually. And fenced me with bones — The stay and strength of the body; and some of them, as the scull and ribs, enclose and defend its vital parts. Job 10:12 Thou hast granted me life and favour, and thy visitation hath preserved my spirit. Job 10:12 . Thou hast granted me life — Thou didst not only give me a curious body, but also a reasonable soul: thou didst at first give me life, and then maintain it in me: both when I was in the womb, (which is a marvellous work of God,) and afterward, when I was unable to do any thing to preserve my own life. And favour — Thou didst not give mere life, but many other favours, such as nourishment by the breast, education, knowledge, and instruction. Thy visitation — The care of thy providence watching over me for my good, and visiting me in mercy; preserved my spirit — My life, which is liable to manifold dangers, if God did not watch over us every day and moment. Thou hast hitherto done great things for me, given me life, and the blessings of life, and daily deliverances: and wilt thou now undo all that thou hast done? And shall I, who have been such an eminent monument of thy mercy, now be a spectacle of thy vengeance. Job 10:13 And these things hast thou hid in thine heart: I know that this is with thee. Job 10:13 . These things hast thou hid in thy heart — Both thy former favours and thy present frowns. Both are according to thy own will, and therefore undoubtedly consistent with each other, however they seem. When God does what we cannot account for, we are bound to believe there are good reasons for it hid in his heart. It is not with us, or in our reach, to assign the cause; but I know this is with thee. Job 10:14 If I sin, then thou markest me, and thou wilt not acquit me from mine iniquity. Job 10:14 . If I sin — If I commit the least sin; then thou markest me — Thou dost not connive at, or pass by my sins, but dost severely and diligently observe them all, that thou mayest punish me. And thou wilt not acquit me from mine iniquity — Wilt not pardon, pity, and help me, but art resolved to punish me with rigour: words of great impatience and distrust. But he was so oppressed and overwhelmed with his troubles that it seems he could not look up with any comfort or confidence. Without were fightings, within were fears, so that between both he was full of confusion. Job 10:15 If I be wicked, woe unto me; and if I be righteous, yet will I not lift up my head. I am full of confusion; therefore see thou mine affliction; Job 10:15 . If I be wicked — That is, an ungodly hypocrite, as my friends esteem me; wo unto me — I am truly and extremely miserable; and, if I continue wicked, must be eternally so. And if I be righteous — An upright man; yet will I not, or yet can I not, lift up my head — Yet I have no comfort, nor hope of any good: so, whether I am good or bad, all comes to one. I am full of confusion; therefore see thou mine affliction — I am confounded within myself, not knowing what to say or do. Let my extremity move thee to pity and help me. Job 10:16 For it increaseth. Thou huntest me as a fierce lion: and again thou shewest thyself marvellous upon me. Job 10:16 . Thou huntest me as a fierce lion — Which hunteth after his prey with eagerness, and, when he overtakes it, falls upon it with great fury. Again thou showest — Hebrews ????? ????? ?? , vetashob tithpalla bi, Thou turnest again: Thou art marvellous, or, thou showest thyself marvellous upon, in, or against me. The lion tears its prey speedily, and so ends its torments; but thou renewest my calamities again and again, and makest my plagues wonderful, both for kind, and extremity, and continuance. Job 10:17 Thou renewest thy witnesses against me, and increasest thine indignation upon me; changes and war are against me. Job 10:17 . Thou renewest thy witnesses — Thy judgments, which are the evidences both of my sins and of thy wrath; and increasest thine indignation — That is, my miseries, the effects of thine indignation. Changes and war — Or, changes and an army, that is, many miseries succeeding one another, like companies of soldiers successively coming on to the attack in a battle. Or, changes may signify the various kinds, and an army the great number of his afflictions. Job 10:18 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! Job 10:19 I should have been as though I had not been; I should have been carried from the womb to the grave. Job 10:20 Are not my days few? cease then, and let me alone, that I may take comfort a little, Job 10:20-22 . Are not my days few? Cease then, &c. — My life is short, and of itself hastens to an end; there is no need that thou shouldest grudge me some ease for so small a moment. Let me alone — Or lay aside, or remove thy hand or anger from me. That I may take comfort a little — Hebrews ?????? , abligah, et recreabo me, I shall refresh, or strengthen myself: shall have some respite, some remission of my grief and pain, some consolation. Those that are not duly thankful for constant ease should think how welcome one hour’s ease would be if they were in constant pain. Before I go to the place whence I shall not return — Shall not come back into this world and life. At death we must bid a final farewell to this world: the body must then be laid where it will lie long; and the soul appointed to that state where it must be for ever. That had need to be well done which is to be done but once, and done for eternity. Even to the land of darkness, and the shadow of death — That is, a dark and dismal shade. Holy souls at death remove to a land of light, where there is no death; but their bodies they leave to a land of darkness, and the shadow of death. Of darkness, as darkness itself, &c. — He heaps up expressions here to show that he has as dreadful apprehensions of death and the grave as other men naturally have, so that it was only the extreme misery he was in that made him wish for it. Without any order — No order is observed in bringing people to the grave, not the eldest are brought first, not the richest, not the poorest, and yet every one in his own order, the order appointed by the God of life. All lie there on the same level, and there is no distinction between the prince and the peasant; but the servant is there free from his master: and in the grave there is perpetual night, and no succession of day. And where the light is as darkness — Where there is no difference between light and darkness; where the day is as dark as the night; where there is nothing but perpetual and uninterrupted darkness. In the grave there is no knowledge, no comfort, no joy, no praising God, no working out our salvation, for the night is come wherein no man can work. Let us consider this, and therefore walk and work while we have the light with us. Job 10:21 Before I go whence I shall not return, even to the land of darkness and the shadow of death; Job 10:22 A land of darkness, as darkness itself; and of the shadow of death, without any order, and where the light is as darkness. Benson Commentary on the Old and New Testaments Text Courtesy of BibleSupport.com . Used by Permission.

Expositor's Bible Commentary Job 10:1 My soul is weary of my life; I will leave my complaint upon myself; I will speak in the bitterness of my soul. X. THE THOUGHT OF A DAYSMAN Job 9:1-35 ; Job 10:1-22 Job SPEAKS IT is with an infinitely sad restatement of what God has been made to appear to him by Bildad’s speech that Job begins his reply. Yes, yes; it is so. How can man be just before such a God? You tell me my children are overwhelmed with destruction for their sins. You tell me that I, who am not quite dead as yet, may have new prosperity if I put myself into right relations with God. But how can that be? There is no uprightness, no dutifulness, no pious obedience, no sacrifice that will satisfy Him. I did my utmost; yet God has condemned me. And if He is what you say, His condemnation is unanswerable. He has such wisdom in devising accusations and in maintaining them against feeble man, that hope there can be none for any human being. To answer one of the thousand charges God can bring, if He will contend with man, is impossible. The earthquakes are signs of His indignation, removing mountains shaking the earth out of her place. He is able to quench the light of the sun and moon, and to seal up the stars. What is man beside the omnipotence of Him who alone stretched out the heavens, whose march is on the huge waves of the ocean, who is the Creator of the constellations, the Bear, the Giant, the Pleiades, and the chambers or spaces of the southern sky? It is the play of irresistible power Job traces around him, and the Divine mind or will is inscrutable. "Lo, He goeth by me and I see Him not: He passeth on, and I perceive Him not. Behold, He seizeth. Who will stay Him? Who will say to Him, What doest Thou?" Step by step the thought here advances into that dreadful imagination of God’s unrighteousness which must issue in revolt or in despair. Job, turning against the bitter logic of tradition, appears for the time to plunge into impiety. Sincere earnest thinker as he is, he falls into a strain we are almost compelled to call false and blasphemous. Bildad and Eliphaz seem to be saints, Job a rebel against God. The Almighty, he says, is like a lion that seizes the prey and cannot be hindered from devouring. He is a wrathful tyrant under whom the helpers of Rahab, those powers that according to some nature myth sustain the dragon of the sea in its conflict with heaven, stoop and give way. Shall Job essay to answer Him? It is vain. He cannot. To choose words in such a controversy would be of no avail. Even one right in his cause would be overborne by tyrannical omnipotence. He would have no resource but to supplicate for mercy like a detected malefactor. Once Job may have thought that an appeal to justice would be heard, that his trust in righteousness was well founded. He is falling away from that belief now. This Being whose despotic power has been set in his view has no sense of man’s right. He cares nothing for man. What is God? How does He appear in the light of the sufferings of Job? "He breaketh me with a tempest, Increaseth my wounds without cause. If you speak of the strength of the mighty, ‘Behold Me,’ saith He; If of judgment-‘Who will appoint Me a time?’" No one, that is, can call God to account. The temper of the Almighty appears to Job to be such that man must needs give up all controversy. In his heart Job is convinced still that he has wrought no evil. But he will not say so. He will anticipate the wilful condemnation of the Almighty. God would assail his life. Job replies in fierce revolt, "Assail it, take it away, I care not, for I despise it. Whether one is righteous or evil, it is all the same. God destroys the perfect and the wicked" ( Job 9:22 ). Now, are we to explain away this language? If not, how shall we defend the writer who has put it into the mouth of one still the hero of the book, still appearing as a friend of God? To many in our day, as of old, religion is so dull and lifeless, their desire for the friendship of God so lukewarm, that the passion of the words of Job is incomprehensible to them. His courage of despair belongs to a range of feeling they never entered, never dreamt of entering. The calculating world is their home, and in its frigid atmosphere there is no possibility of that keen striving for spiritual life which fills the soul as with fire. To those who deny sin and pooh-pooh anxiety about the soul, the book may well appear an old-world dream, a Hebrew allegory rather than the history of a man. But the language of Job is no outburst of lawlessness; it springs out of deep and serious thought. It is difficult to find an exact modern parallel here; but we have not to go far back for one who was driven like Job by false theology into bewilderment, something like unreason. In his "Grace Abounding," John Bunyan reveals the depths of fear into which hard arguments and misinterpretations of Scripture often plunged him, when he should have been rejoicing in the liberty of a child of God. The case of Bunyan is, in a sense, very different from that of Job. Yet both are urged almost to despair of God; and Bunyan, realising this point of likeness, again and again uses words put into Job’s mouth. Doubts and suspicions are suggested by his reading, or by sermons which he hears, and he regards their occurrence to his mind as a proof of his wickedness. In one place he says: "Now I thought surely I am possessed of the devil: at other times again I thought I should be bereft of my wits; for, instead of lauding and magnifying God with others, if I have but heard Him spoken of, presently some most horrible blasphemous thought or other would bolt out of my heart against Him, so that whether I did think that God was, or again did think there was no such thing, no love, nor peace, nor gracious disposition could I feel within me." Bunyan had a vivid imagination. He was haunted by strange cravings for the spiritually adventurous. What would it be to sin the sin that is unto death? "In so strong a measure," he says, "was this temptation upon me, that often I have been ready to clap my hands under my chin to keep my mouth from opening." The idea that he should "sell and part with Christ" was one that terribly afflicted him; and, "at last," he says, "after much striving, I felt this thought pass through my heart, Let Him go if He will. . . . After this, nothing for two years together would abide with me but damnation and the expectation of damnation. This thought had passed my heart-God hath let me go, and I am fallen. Oh, thought I, that it was with me as in months past, as in the days when God preserved me." The Book of Job helps us to understand Bunyan and those terrors of his that amaze our composed generation. Given a man like Job or like Bunyan, to whom religion is everything, who must feel sure of Divine justice, truth, and mercy, he will pass far beyond the measured emotions and phrases of those who are more than half content with the world and themselves. The writer here, whose own stages of thought are recorded, and Bunyan, who with rare force and sincerity retraces the way of his life, are men of splendid character and virtue. Titans of the religious life, they are stricken with anguish and bound with iron fetters to the rock of pain for the sake of universal humanity. They are a wonder to the worldling, they speak in terms the smooth professor of religion shudders at. But their endurance, their vehement resolution, break the falsehoods of the time and enter into the redemption of the race. The strain of Job’s complaint increases in bitterness. He seems to see omnipotent injustice everywhere. If a scourge ( Job 9:23 ) such as lightning, accident, or disease slayeth suddenly, there seems to be nothing but mockery of the innocent. God looks down on the wreck of human hope, from the calm sky after the thunderstorm, in the evening sunlight that gilds the desert grave. And in the world of men the wicked have their way. God veils the face of the judge so that he is blinded to the equity of the cause. Thus, after the arguments of his friends, Job is compelled to see wrong everywhere, and to say that it is the doing of God. The strophe ends with the abrupt fierce demand, -If not, who then is it? The short passage from the twenty-fifth verse to the end of chapter 9 ( Job 9:25-35 ) returns sadly to the strain of personal weakness and entreaty. Swiftly Job’s days go by, more swiftly than a runner, in so far as he sees no good. Or they are like the reed skiffs on the river, or the darting eagle. To forget his pain is impossible. He cannot put on an appearance of serenity or hope. God is keeping him bound as a transgressor. "I shall be condemned whatever I do. Why then do I weary myself in vain?" Looking at his discoloured body, covered with the grime of disease, he finds it a sign of God’s detestation. But if he could wash it with snow, that is, to snowy whiteness, if he could purify those blackened limbs with lye, the renewal would go no further. God would plunge him again into the mire; his own clothes would abhor him. And now there is a change of tone. His mind, revolting from its own conclusion, turns towards the thought of reconciliation. While as yet he speaks of it as an impossibility there comes to him a sorrowful regret, a vague dream or reflection in place of that fierce rebellion which discoloured the whole world and made it appear an arena of injustice. With that he cannot pretend to satisfy himself. Again his humanity stirs in him:- "For He is not a man, as I, that I should answer Him, That we should come together in judgment. There is no daysman between us That might lay his hand upon us both. Let Him take away His rod from me, And let not His terror overawe me; Then would I speak and not fear Him: For I am not in such case in myself." If he could only speak with God as a man speaks with his friend the shadows might be cleared away. The real God, not unreasonable, not unrighteous nor despotic, here begins to appear; and in default of personal converse, and of a daysman, or arbiter, who might lay reconciling hands upon both and bring them together, Job cries for an interval of strength and freedom, that without fear and anguish he may himself express the matter at stake. The idea of a daysman, although the possibility of such a friendly helper is denied, is a new mark of boldness in the thought of the drama. In that one word the inspired writer strikes the note of a Divine purpose which he does not yet foresee. We must not say that here we have the prediction of a Redeemer at once God and man. The author has no such affirmation to make. But very remarkably the desires of Job are led forth in that direction in which the advent and work of Christ have fulfilled the decree of grace. There can be no doubt of the inspiration of a writer who thus strikes into the current of the Divine will and revelation. Not obscurely is it implied in this Book of Job that, however earnest man may be in religion, however upright and faithful (for all this Job was), there are mysteries of fear and sorrow connected with his life in this world which can be solved only by One who brings the light of eternity into the range of time, who is at once "very God and very man," whose overcoming demands and encourages our faith. Now, the wistful cry of Job-"There is no daysman between us"-breaking from the depths of an experience to which the best as well as the worst are exposed in this life, an experience which cannot in either case be justified or accounted for unless by the fact of immortality, is, let us say, as presented here, a purely human cry. Man who "cannot be God’s exile," bound always to seek understanding of the will and character of God, finds himself in the midst of sudden calamity and extreme pain, face to face with death. The darkness that shrouds his whole existence he longs to see dispelled or shot through with beams of clear revealing light. What shall we say of it? If such a desire, arising in the inmost mind, had no correspondence whatever to fact, there would be falsehood at the heart of things. The very shape the desire takes-for a Mediator who should be acquainted equally with God and man, sympathetic toward the creature, knowing the mind of the Creator-cannot be a chance thing. It is the fruit of a Divine necessity inwrought with the constitution and life of the human soul. We are pointed to an irrefragable argument; but the thought meanwhile does not follow it. Immortality waits for a revelation. Job has prayed for rest. It does not come. Another attack of pain makes a pause in his speech, and with the tenth chapter begins a long address to the Most High, not fierce as before, but sorrowful, subdued. "My soul is weary of my life. I will give free course to my complaint; I will speak in bitterness of my soul." It is scarcely possible to touch the threnody that follows without marring its pathetic and profound beauty. There is an exquisite dignity of restraint and frankness in this appeal to the Creator. He is an Artist whose fine work is in peril, and that from His own seeming carelessness of it, or more dreadful to conceive, His resolution to destroy it. First the cry is, "Do not condemn me. Is it good unto Thee that Thou shouldest despise the work of Thine hands?" It is marvellous to Job that he should be scorned as worthless, while at the same time God seems to shine on the counsel of the wicked. How can that, O Thou Most High, be in harmony with Thy nature? He puts a supposition, which even in stating it he must refuse, "Hast Thou eyes of flesh? or seest Thou as man seeth?" A jealous man, clothed with a little brief authority, might probe into the misdeeds of a fellow creature. But God cannot do so. His majesty forbids; and especially since He knows, for one thing, that Job is not guilty, and, for another thing, that no one can escape His hands. Men often lay hold of the innocent, and torture them to discover imputed crimes. The supposition that God acts like a despot or the servant of a despot is made only to be east aside. But he goes back on his appeal to God as Creator, and bethinks him of that tender fashioning of the body which seems an argument for as tender a care of the soul and the spirit life. Much of power and lovingkindness goes to the perfecting of the body and the development of the physical life out of weakness and embryonic form. Can He who has so wrought, who has added favour and apparent love, have been concealing all the time a design of mockery? Even in creating, had God the purpose of making His creature a mere plaything for the self-will of Omnipotence? "Yet these things Thou didst hide in Thine heart." These things-the desolate home, the outcast life, the leprosy. Job uses a strange word: "I know that this was with Thee." His conclusion is stated roughly, that nothing can matter in dealing with such a Creator. The insistence of the friends on the hope of forgiveness, Job’s own consciousness of integrity go for nothing. "Were I to sin Thou wouldst mark me, And Thou wouldst not acquit me of iniquity. Were I wicked, woe unto me; Were I righteous, yet should I not lift up my head." The supreme Power of the world has taken an aspect not of unreasoning force, but of determined ill-will to man. The only safety seems to be in lying quiet so as not to excite against him the activity of this awful God who hunts like a lion and delights in marvels of wasteful strength. It appears that, having been once roused, the Divine Enemy will not cease to persecute. New witnesses, new causes of indignation would be found; a changing host of troubles would follow up the attack. I have ventured to interpret the whole address in terms of supposition, as a theory Job flings out in the utter darkness that surrounds him. He does not adopt it. To imagine that he really believes this, or that the writer of the book intended to put forward such a theory as even approximately true, is quite impossible. And yet, when one thinks of it, perhaps impossible is too strong a word. The doctrine of the sovereignty of God is a fundamental truth; but it has been so conceived and wrought with as to lead many reasoners into a dream of cruelty and irresponsible force not unlike that which haunts the mind of Job. Something of the kind has been argued for with no little earnestness by men who were religiously endeavouring to explain the Bible and professed to believe in the love of God to the world. For example: the annihilation of the wicked is denied by one for the good reason that God has a profound reverence for being or existence, so that he who is once possessed of will must exist forever; but from this the writer goes on to maintain that the wicked are useful to God as the material on which His justice operates, that indeed they have been created solely for everlasting punishment in order that through them the justice of the Almighty may be clearly seen. Against this very kind of theology Job is in revolt. In the light even of his world it was a creed of darkness. That God hates wrongdoing, that everything selfish, vindictive, cruel, unclean, false, shall be driven before Him-who can doubt? That according to His decree sin brings its punishment yielding the wages of death-who can doubt? But to represent Him who has made us all, and must have foreseen our sin, as without any kind of responsibility for us, dashing in pieces the machines He has made because they do not serve His purpose, though He knew even in making them that they would not-what a hideous falsehood is this; it can justify God only at the expense of undeifying Him. One thing this Book of Job teaches, that we are not to go against our own sincere reason nor our sense of justice and truth in order to square facts with any scheme or any theory. Religious teaching and thought must affirm nothing that is not entirely frank, purely just, and such as we could, in the last resort, apply out and out to ourselves. Shall man be more just than God, more generous than God, more faithful than God? Perish the thought, and every system that maintains so false a theory and tries to force it on the human mind! Nevertheless, let there be no falling into the opposite error; from that, too, frankness will preserve us. No sincere man, attentive to the realities of the world and the awful ordinances of nature, can suspect the Universal Power of indifference to evil, of any design to leave law without sanction. We do not escape at one point; God is our Father; righteousness is vindicated, and so is faith. As the colloquies proceed, the impression is gradually made that the writer of this book is wrestling with that study which more and more engages the intellect of man-What is the real? How does it stand related to the ideal, thought of as righteousness, as beauty, as truth? How does it stand related to God, sovereign and holy? The opening of the book might have led straight to the theory that the real, the present world charged with sin, disaster, and death, is not of the Divine order, therefore is of a Devil. But the disappearance of Satan throws aside any such idea of dualism, and pledges the writer to find solution, if he find it at all, in one will, one purpose, one Divine event. On Job himself the burden and the effort descend in his conflict with the real as disaster, enigma, impending death, false judgment, established theology and schemes of explanation. The ideal evades him, is lost between the rising wave and the lowering sky. In the whole horizon he sees no clear open space where it can unfold the day. But it remains in his heart; and in the night sky it waits where the great constellations shine in their dazzling purity and eternal calm, brooding silent over the world as from immeasurable distance far withdrawn. Even from that distance God sends forth and will accomplish a design. Meanwhile the man stretches his hands in vain from the shadowed earth to those keen lights, ever so remote and cold. Show me wherefore Thou strivest with me. Is it pleasant to Thee that Thou should’st oppress, That Thou should’st despise the work of Thy hands And shine upon the counsel of the wicked? Hast Thou eyes of flesh? Or seest Thou as man seeth? Thy days-are they as the days of man? Thy years-are they as man’s days, That Thou inquirest after fault of mine, And searchest after my sin, Though Thou knowest that I am not wicked, And none can deliver from Thy hand? Thine hands have made and fashioned me Together round about; and Thou dost destroy me. { Job 10:2-8 } The Expositor's Bible Text Courtesy of BibleSupport.com . Used by Permission.