Holy Bible

Miserable comforters are ye all. Job 16:1-3 Miserable comforters George Hutcheson. They are but sorry comforters who, being confounded with the sight of the afflicted's trouble, do grate upon their (real or supposed) guilt, weaken the testimony of their good conscience that they may stir them up to repent, and let them see no door of hope, but upon ill terms. Learn — 1. God's people may mutually charge and load one another with heavy imputations; whereof, though one party be guilty, yet who they are will not be fully cleared (save in men's own consciences) till God appear. 2. Man may sadly charge that upon others whereof themselves are most guilty. For the friends charged Job to have spoken vain words, or words of wind, and yet he asserts themselves were guilty of it, having no solid reason in their discourses, but only prejudice, mistakes, and passion. 3. Men may teach doctrine, true and useful in its own kind, which yet is but vain when ill applied. Thus Satan may abuse and pervert Scripture. 4. Vain and useless discourses are a great burden to a spiritual, and especially to a weary spiritual mind, that needs better. 5. When men are filled with passion, prejudice, or self-love, they will outweary all others with their discourses before they weary themselves. Yea, they may think they are doing well, when they are a burden to those who hear them. 6. Men are not easily driven from their false principles and opinions when once they are drunk in. 7. As men may be bold who have truth and reason on their side, so ofttimes passion will hold men on to keep up debates when yet they have no solid reason to justify their way. 8. Man's consciences will be put to it, to see upon what grounds they go in debates. It is a sad thing to start or continue them without solid and necessary causes, but only out of prejudice, interest, or because they are engaged. 9. Men ought seriously to consider what spirit they are of, and what sets them to work in every thing they say and do. ( George Hutcheson. ) Spiritual depression and its remedies M. Villiers, M. A. I. SPIRITUAL DISTRESS is either physical, caused by the action of bodily weakness and infirmity upon the mind. Or satanic, directly due to suggestions of the great enemy of souls. Or judicial, arising from the sensible withdrawal of the light of God's countenance. The general cause of this depression is sin. God occasionally permits it to come upon us, that we may know ourselves, and feel our own weakness. II. HOW SPIRITUAL DEPRESSION MANIFESTS ITSELF. The most common form is, that the sufferer fancies himself lost. The Psalmist expresses the effect thus, "Make the bones which Thou hast broken to rejoice." The sufferer finds no comfort in prayer; or in the ordinances of religion. What can be done for such? 1. Sympathise with the sufferer. 2. Immediately have recourse to prayer. 3. Endeavour to discover the cause of the withdrawal of God's favour. 4. Dwell much on the promises of God. 5. Meditate upon the love and sovereignty of God. 6. Look to the Lord Jesus Christ Himself.Do not continue to write bitter things against yourselves. This is not the day of condemnation. ( M. Villiers, M. A. ) Job's comforters Richard Glover. The office of the comforter is a very high and blessed one. One who has the tongue of the learned, and can speak a word in season to him that is weary, may often prevent distress becoming despair; may often strengthen faith and hope, and cheer the mourner with the light of eternal peace. He who has force of conviction, clearness of sight, knowledge of God's love, may render one of the richest services that man can render to his fellow men. In Job's case there was a sorrow that indeed cried aloud for comfort. The pity of the angels must have rested on him, plunged from such a height of mercy into such a gulf of misery. Is there no comforter? When wealth abounded, he had many to felicitate him; are there none now to weep for him, and to uphold his heart? Let us look. There are never wanting hearts that pity the afflictions of men. But it is one thing to pity with silent, on-looking grief; it is another thing to tackle grief itself, and show how right and merciful it is: and for this brave and tender work few are fitted. And so accordingly Job has to complain ( Job 6:15-17 ) that his friends on whom he had relied were like the winter torrents, brawling strongly, flowing bravely when less needed; but drying up in the summer heats and leaving caravans, which hoped to drink of their waters, to perish with thirst. But amidst the bewilderment which marks all his friends, and the general shrinking of those who should have tried to comfort, there are three of his old friends — apparently from what they say themselves, and what Elihu says of them, all men at least as old as Job himself — who strive to console him. Not at the very outset of his calamity, but at a time when Job can say ( Job 7:3 ), "I am made to possess months of vanity"; these three men make an appointment with each other and go together to comfort him. Job himself flouts them, saying, "Miserable comforters are ye all"; doing thereby not quite justice to men whose task was not so easy to accomplish as some of their critics think. I think that great and obvious as their faults were, perhaps they were better comforters to Job than any others would have been. They did not find a solace for him, but they did something better, they helped him to find the true solace for himself. Let us see what there is in the character and utterances Of these men worthy of our remark. 1. They had evidently some of the grandest qualities of a comforter about them. They had a profound sense of Job's calamity. Their whole bearing at the outset is beautiful; when they see him they lift up their voice and weep. They seat themselves beside him on his dunghill, and for a whole week, in grave, respectful silence, they share his sorrow. Everywhere, but especially in sorrow, speech is only silvern, but silence is golden. In great sorrow the room to admit comfort is small, though the comfort needed be very large indeed. Consolation is hardly for early stages of great sorrow, it must be inserted gradually, as the soul gives room to hold it. And when the time comes for direct consolation, it should be line upon line, here a little, there a little. The comfort of the Gospel of providence first; the comfort of the Gospel of salvation second. If they had been but wise enough to hold their peace, they had been almost perfect comforters. They did so for seven days, and showed by doing so they had one great quality of the comforter; they took some proper measure of the trouble they came to soothe. 2. If they had a sense of his calamity they had also another quality of great value in a comforter — they had courage. Amongst Job's numberless friends hardly any but themselves had the courage to face his grief. They had it. Courage is wanted sometimes to forbid the abandonment of despair, to deny the accusations which impatience makes against God. Sometimes, like the great Comforter, you have to begin by convincing of sin, and to lead the afflicted through penitence to consolation. 3. They had also some of the great elements of the creed of consolation. They believed, first of all, that God sent the affliction; and the root of all consolation is there. The sorrow's crown of sorrow is the thought that chance reigns. And wherever we feel God rules, and what has happened came by Divine prescription or permission, we have a seed of consolation most sufficient. In fact, as we shall see hereafter, all Job's grand comfort springs from this. They have a second great article of faith and consolation — their hearts are strongly moored in a sense of the justice of God. In heathen creeds a large place was often assigned to Divine envy and jealousy. And they have also some knowledge of His love, They urge Job to prayer as to something He habitually answers. They urge him to penitence, assuring him that even though his guilt had been so great, yet God would pardon him. They have some of the great convictions requisite to console.Yet they fail in their effort to console; and when you ask why, you see that while they possessed some of the first qualities of comforters, they had others which marred their work. 1. First of all, their creed, good as far as it goes, does not go far enough. There was in it a certain intellectual and moral narrowness. They think of God almost exclusively as a judge — rewarding right, punishing wrong, pardoning the fault He punishes when it is duly repented. But they seem to give God no margin for any other activities. According to them, all He does is reward or punishment. They have not in their view any grand future extending to the other world — in preparation for which, discipline of various kinds may be useful, even where there is no special transgression. They had a short, clear creed — say to the righteous it shall be well with him, say to the wicked it shall be ill with him — and any refinement, such as "whom God loveth He chasteneth," seems to them something that spoils the clearness and cogency of saving truth. These men could believe in a reward to the righteous, in affliction to the wrongdoer, but the doctrine, "Many are the afflictions of the righteous," enfeebled the hopes of the good and destroyed the alarm of the wicked. Accordingly not one of them ever is able to get out of the feeling that Job had been secretly a sinner above all men. We should beware of narrowness, and, although our light is fuller, remember that we make a mistake whenever we imagine that we have mapped out the whole of God and of the plans and working of God. Leave a margin modestly, and assume that God will do many things, the reasons for which are sufficient, but not knowable by ourselves. Assume that we cannot understand much of His ways, and be on your guard against creeds that simplify too much. Man is rather a complicated thing, and the truth of man cannot be reduced to a set of very easy and very broad statements. These comforters failed to remember that man's understanding was not quite equal to account for all God's acts, and they left out of view all the prospective probable results of God's dealings in the idea that the calamity could have no reason excepting some precedent wrong. And they had another fault. 2. They were short of faith in man. It is easy to understand how men should be suspicious. When we feel how much of volcanic energy there is in the evil of our own hearts, we are apt to believe too readily in the evil of others. Faults are common, falls are common, but deliberate hypocrisy is too rare to justify an easy assumption of its existence on slight grounds. If a wavering thought that their friend must have been guilty of great sins, and all his religion hypocrisy, was pardonable, should they have settled down so fixedly and promptly in this belief, and without any evidence, have first surmised and then asserted guilt beyond that of any other? This unbelief in Job is a sin which God subsequently rebukes them for. It is a serious thing to admit to one's heart any unbelief in the essential integrity of another. Keep faith in man if you would comfort man. These men were short of faith in their fellow men, and became, as Job called them, "false witnesses for God," in consequence of being so. Perhaps the week of silence is due to suspense as well as sympathy, to some misgiving about their theory as much as to compassion. But as soon as Job has "cursed his day," and given vent to the murmur which, however natural, was not sinless, then the momentary misgiving vanishes, and they begin their work. Eliphaz, more gently than the rest, with little more than a hint of the direction in which he thinks Job would do wisely to proceed. Bildad follows with utterance full of ungracious candour: "If thy children have sinned against Him, and He have cast them away in their transgression He would restore your prosperity if you prayed." Zophar, who is coarser than either of the rest, roundly tells him that "God exacteth of him less than his iniquity deserves." When Job has declared his innocence, and uttered his longing to stand face to face with God, and reminded them that the prosperity of the wicked was as universally observed as their calamities, they abate no measure of their censure. In every form of innuendo and accusation they impeach him for some great crime. Till at last Eliphaz himself gathers boldness to make specific charges of inhumanity. Poor Job! to be thus battered by accusations; when soothing tenderness was his need and due. Yet I am not sure he is altogether to be pitied. They could not give him comfort, but they drove him to find it for himself. And in finding it for himself he got it more firmly and more richly than he could possibly have found it ready made on their lips. Several things should be remembered. 1. It is well to act the comforter. 2. Love is the great prerequisite for doing so. Sympathy soothes more than any philosophy of sorrow. 3. A narrow interpretation of God's ways of love is a common fault of those who would console. 4. There must be time for consolation to grow, and it may come in a form very different from that in which we expect it. 5. At last God brings all the true-hearted to a comfort exceedingly rich and great. ( Richard Glover. ) Job's comforters J. S. Swan. These words express Job's opinion of his friends. Nor is it a harsh judgment. These friends missed, and misused, their opportunity. They wanted to be at the philosophy of the matter. Many men now, when asked to assist a neighbour, are more ready "to trace the history of the ease," than to render assistance. Job's comforters deserved the epithet "miserable," because — I. THEY FORGOT THAT AFFLICTION IS NOT NECESSARILY PUNITIVE. And, conversely, all exaltation is not blessedness. Job's comforters saw only the surface, and reasoned from what they saw. They did not discriminate between Job's circumstances and the man Job. They did not discriminate between the body of Job and Job. Allowing that the affliction of Job fell heavily on his soul, it was not necessarily punitive on that account. God subjects His people to tests and disciplines as well as to punishments. Christian men are in the school of Christ, and must accept its discipline. II. THEY DID NOT DISCRIMINATE BETWEEN MEANS AND ENDS. Not to do so is grievously to err in matters religious; not doing so is practical superstition. A man regards church going, Bible reading, attendance upon ordinances, as ends instead of means. What then? He lessens the felt necessity for the broken and contrite heart. Nay, more, he will never rise into the region of the spiritual, so will never worship God acceptably. III. WE SHALL NEVER BENEFIT A FELLOW MAN BY CASTING THE PAST IN HIS TEETH. Even if a child has been naughty in the past, we shall only harden it by dwelling upon the fact. Our Lord never twitted men about their past. Job's comforters gratuitously assumed that Job's past had not been well spent, and so they merited the epithet "miserable." We all need comfort; we can get it only in Christ. If we are seeking it in fame, money, friends, learning — anything appertaining exclusively to this world — the time will come when we shall exclaim of these things, "Miserable comforters are ye all," May that sentence not be uttered in eternity. ( J. S. Swan. ) Miserable comforters Cold comfort some ministers render to afflicted consciences; their advice will be equally valuable with that of the Highlander who is reported to have seen an Englishman sinking in a bog on Ben Nevis. "I am sinking," cried the traveller. "Can you tell me how to get out?" The Highlander calmly replied, "I think it is likely you never will," and walked away. ( C. H. Spurgeon . ) No comfort in cant T. De Witt Talmage. Those persons are incompetent for the work of comfort bearing who have nothing but cant to offer. There are those who have the idea that you must groan over the distressed and afflicted. There are times in grief when one cheerful face dawning upon a man's soul. is worth a thousand dollars to him. Do not whine over the afflicted. Take the promises of the Gospel and utter them in a manly tone. Do not be afraid to smile if you feel like it. Do not drive any more hearses through that poor soul. Do not tell him the trouble was foreordained; it will not be any comfort to know it was a million years coming. If you want to find splints for a broken bone, do not take cast iron. Do not tell them it is God's justice that weighs out grief. They want to hear of God's tender mercy. ( T. De Witt Talmage. ) The worldly philosopher no comforter T. De Witt Talmage. He comes and says, "Why, this is what you ought to have expected. The laws of nature must have their way"; and then they get eloquent over something they have seen in post-mortem examinations. Now, away with all human philosophy at such times! What difference does it make to that father and mother what disease their son died of? He is dead, and it makes no difference whether the trouble was in the epigastric or hypogastric region. If the philosopher be of the stoical school, he will come and say, You ought to control your feelings. You must not cry so. You must cultivate a cooler temperament. You must have self-reliance, self-government, self-control" — an iceberg reproving a hyacinth for having a drop of dew in its eye. ( T. De Witt Talmage. ) The voluble are miserable comforters T. De Witt Talmage. Voluble people are incompetent for the work of giving comfort. Bildad and Eliphaz had the gift of language, and with their words almost bothered Job's life out. Alas for those voluble people that go among the houses of the afflicted, and talk, and talk, and talk, and talk! They rehearse their own sorrows, and then tell the poor sufferers that they feel badly now, but they will feel worse after awhile. Silence! Do you expect with a thin court plaster of words to heal a wound deep as the soul? Step very gently round about a broken heart. Talk very softly round those whom God has bereft. Then go your way. Deep sympathy has not much to say. ( T. De Witt Talmage. ) The comforter must have experienced sorrow T. De Witt Talmage. People who have not had trials themselves cannot give comfort to others. They may talk very beautifully, and they may give you a good deal of poetic sentiment; but while poetry is perfume that smells sweet, it makes a very poor salve. If you have a grave in a pathway, and somebody comes and covers it all over with flowers, it is a grave yet. Those who have not had grief themselves know not the mystery of a broken heart. They know not the meaning of childlessness, and the having no one to put to bed at night, or the standing in a room where every book, and picture, and door is full of memories — the doormat where she sat — the cup out of which she drank — the place where she stood at the door and clapped her hands — the odd figures she scribbled — the blocks she built into a house. Ah, no! you must have trouble yourself before you can comfort trouble in others. ( T. De Witt Talmage. ) But now He hath made me weary. Job 16:7 Weariness under affliction Joseph Caryl. The word "he" is not in the original. Some understand it of his grief and sorrow, and read thus, "And now it hath made me weary," or, my pain hath tired me. Others understand it of what had been spoken by his friends; your tedious discourses, and severer censures, have quite spent my spirits, and made me weary. Our translation leads us to a person, and our interpretation leads us to God. Job everywhere acknowledges that God was the author and orderer of all his sorrows. Weariness of mind is referred to, and it is the most painful weariness. 1. A state of affliction is a wearisome estate. Suffering wearies more than doing; and none are so weary as those who are wearied with doing nothing. 2. Some afflictions are a weariness both to soul and body. There are afflictions which strike right through, and there are afflictions which are only skin deep. 3. Some afflictions do not only afflict, they unsettle the mind. They unsettle not only the comforts, but the powers and faculties of it. A man under some afflictions can scarce speak sense while he acts faith, or do rationally while he lives graciously. 4. A godly man may grow extremely weary of his afflictions. The best cannot always rejoice in temptations, nor triumph under a cross. True believers, as they have more patience in doing, so in suffering; yet even their patience doth not always hold out; they, as Job, speak sometimes mournfully and complainingly. ( Joseph Caryl. ) God hath delivered me to the ungodly. Job 16:11 Tracing all to God Joseph Parker, D. D. But Job gets some notion of the reality of things when he traces all to God, saving, "God hath delivered me to the ungodly, and turned me over into the hands of the wicked." I begin to feel that even the devil is but a black servant in God's house. There is a sense, perhaps hardly open to a definition in words, in which the devil belongs to God as certainly as does the first archangel. There is no separate province of God's universe: hell burns at the very footstool of His throne. We must not allow ourselves to believe that there are rival powers and competing dynasties in any sense which diminishes the almightiness of God. If you say, as some distinguished philosophers have lately said, God cannot be almighty because there is evil in the world, you are limiting the discussion within too narrow a boundary. We must await the explanation. Give God time. Let Him work in His eternity. We are not called upon now to answer questions. Oh! could we hold our peace, and say, We do not know; do not press us for answers; let patience have her perfect work: this is the time for labour, for education, for study, for prayer, for sacrifice: this poor. twilight scene is neither fair enough nor large enough to admit the whole of God's explanation: we must carry forward our study to the place which is as lofty as heaven, to the time which is as endless as eternity. We all have suffering. Every man is struck at some point. Let not him who is capable of using some strength speak contemptuously of his weak brother. It is easy for a man who has no temptation in a certain direction to lecture another upon going in that direction. What we want is a juster comprehension of one another. We should say, This, my brother, cannot stand such and such a fire; therefore we try to come between him and the flame: this other brother can stand that fire perfectly well, but there is another fire which he dare not approach; therefore we should interpose ourselves between him and the dread furnace, knowing that we all have some weakness, some point of failure, some signature of the dust. Blessed are they who have great, generous, royal, Divine hearts! The more a man can forgive, the more does he resemble God. ( Joseph Parker, D. D. ) Not for any injustice in mine hands. Job 16:17-19 A good man's confidence John Donne. In these words Job delivers us — 1. The confidence of a godly man. 2. That kind of infirm anguish and indignation, that half-distemper, that expostulation with God, which sometimes comes to an excess even in good and godly men. 3. The foundation of his confidence, and his deliverance from this his infirmity. ( John Donne. ) My witness is in heaven and my record is on high. The trite witness of life G. Brooks. I. IN REFERENCE TO JOB. 1. A declaration of his belief. 2. An avowal of his sincerity. 3. A proof of his devotion. II. IN REFERENCE TO OURSELVES. 1. In seasons of self-suspicion. 2. Under the assaults of calumny. 3. In the prospect of death. ( G. Brooks. ) When a few years are come, then I shall go the way whence I shall not return. Job 16:22 The shortness of human life T. Boston, D. D. Doctrine — The coming in of a few new years will set us out of this world, never to return to it. I. IN WHAT RESPECTS WE CAN HAVE BUT FEW YEARS TO COME. 1. In comparison of the many years to which man's life did, at one time, extend. 2. In comparison of the years of the world that are past. 3. In comparison of the great work which we have to do, namely, our salvation and generation work. 4. In comparison of eternity. II. WHY IS THE COMING, AND NOT THE GOING, OF THE FEW YEARS MENTIONED? 1. Because, that by the time they are fully come in, they are gone out. 2. Because that year will at length begin to come which we will never see the going out of. III. WHEN THE FEW YEARS HAVE SENT US OFF, THERE IS NO RETURNING. 1. Men cannot come back (ver. 14). 2. God will not bring them back. Improvement —(1) That men seriously weigh with themselves that they are now a great step nearer another world than they were.(2) That they take a humbling back-look of their way, and consider the many wrong steps which they have taken in their past years.(3) That they renew the acceptance of the covenant, and lay down measures for their safety in another world.(4) Eternity is a business of great weight. The happiness of the other world is too great for us to be indifferent about it, and to be cheated out of it by Satan and our vain hearts. ( T. Boston, D. D. ) The shortness and frailty of human life D. Moore, M. A. This is not one of Job's fretful speeches; it is one in which he is giving forth the utterances of an inspired philosophy, and suggests a few practical reflections, as well on the frailty of life as on the irreversible issues of death. I. THE SHORTNESS AND FRAILTY OF HUMAN LIFE. "When a few years are come." Almost every image that could be thought of to denote transitoriness, fleetness, brief duration, sudden change, will be found in Scripture as an emblem of human life. Our days are represented as passing from us just as an eagle hasteneth to her prey, as the swift post flies on his errand, as the ships of Ebeh cleave a path through the waters, as the weaver's shuttle darts through the web, as the rolling clouds move in the air. Or again, our life is a flower clothed in glory for a day — a shepherd's tent, which on the morrow will be removed to some other place — a vapour, curling up for a moment into some beautiful shape, and then dissolving into nothingness — a shadow, flinging its bold outline across our path, and in an instant departing to leave no trace behind. But let us consider some of the senses in which this expression, a few years, may be taken. Thus it may be taken in a contingent sense with a sad reference to life's uncertainty, to the consciousness which should be present to all of us, that the invisible guiding hand which struck down our friend during the past year may be led to lay us low the next. In this view the word "few" may be taken in its most severe and absolute sense. It may mean three years, or two years, or even one, but it behoves the youngest, and the strongest, and most full of hope amongst us, to speak as Job spake. Every day throws fresh confusion into our calculated probabilities of life's duration. Death seems to be always finding some new door which we had left out of our account, and which we had not provided against; it seemed to be too remote a contingency to be numbered among human likelihoods. But commonly, the word "few" is used in some comparative sense. The labourers in the field of the Gospel are said to be few compared with the plenteousness of the harvest; they who find the way of life are said to be few compared with those by whom the way is missed; and so, in the text, the years of our life are said to he few, compared with the many things which have to be done therein, in order to fit us for a condition of immortality. The comparison comes natural to us. In all great works to be done, we almost intuitively consider as an element of the difficulty the question of time. The surprise of the Jews when they supposed our Lord to say that He would rebuild their temple after it was destroyed, was not that He should rebuild it, but that what it had cost forty-and-six years to accomplish, He should be able to do in three days. Well, the building up of the spiritual temple does not always require forty-and-six years, though it may require threescore years and ten. But whatever the unknown limit be, the years always seem to be getting shorter as that limit is approached; or as the work to be done in it remains in an unfinished state. The fact, as you perceive, cries aloud against the folly of all delayed repentances. To subdue the power of sin, to get disengaged from the ties of the world, to change the bias of an evil heart, and acquire a relish and taste for holiness, to become skilled in those higher acquisitions of the saintly life — how to wait, how to hope, how to be silent, how to sit still — oh, we want a long life for this! Grace may dispense with it sometimes, and does; as when our young righteous are taken away from the evil to come; and then the green blade is as fit for the garner as the shock of corn in its season. But in all cases where longer time is granted, longer time is required; and then, if a portion of these years be wasted, what arrearages of work are thrown forward to the remainder; and thus we fail to make any advance. We have everything to unlearn and undo. But again, I think the time that remains to us is described by the phrase "few years," because howsoever many they be, they will appear few when they are past. For the truth of this, I may appeal with confidence to the experience of the aged. You may have many years to live, but they will not appear many when you have lived them out. What the text seems to suggest is, that the duration of the future should be measured by the mind's estimate of the duration of the past. Assume, for example, that you have ten more years to live; to know whether this is a long time or a short time, measure it by what appears to you now the length of the last ten years. Something important and noticeable occurred about that time; realise the fact, that after a corresponding lapse for the future you will be no more seen. Such a method of measuring your length of days from the other end of the line cannot fail to leave upon the heart a salutary impression of the shortness of life. Wherefore, let us all calculate our length of clays according to Job's life table; let us reckon our years backwards, that is, not by what they are in prospect, but what they will seem in review. I note one other thought, which could hardly have been out of the patriarch's mind, when he spoke of his remaining years as few, namely, that they must be few — incomparable, and beyond all arithmetical reduction few — when compared with the life which was to succeed. This should be always an element in the Christian's computation of time. We shall never get at the true length of our years without it. If the apostle Paul, when writing to the Corinthians, had taken for his guidance any of our human calendars he would have said, "That light affliction which has been upon me for nearly thirty years"; but instead of this he recollects that time is not to be estimated by this standard at all. Length of service must be compared with length of reward — increase the one and you diminish the other, and this without limit; so that if the duration of the succeeding recompense become infinitely great, the duration of the service becomes inappreciably small. Who cares to be king for a day? Who for one morsel of meat would become another's servant for the rest of his life? Or, on the other hand, who would not endure sorrow for a night to he assured that he should enter upon a life of endless joy on the morrow? "Whence I shall not return." II. THE IRREVERSIBLE ISSUES OF DEATH. 1. Here we should note the moral scope of the expression. Job is not to be understood as if he would exclude the possibility of his return to earth bodily to visit his friends, and renew his employments, to tell life's tale a second time — his design is manifestly to indicate the fixedness of his spiritual state when these few years of life shall have run out. His meaning is, I shall go to the place whence I shall not return for any of the available purposes of salvation, for repentance, for prayer, for making reconciliation. It is a place where all is determined, unalterable, final; where as each tree falls, so it lies; where he that is unjust is unjust still; where he that is holy will be holy still. He had used similar language in the 7th chapter. "As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away; so he that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more." To which we may not unfittingly add that exhortation of the wise man, "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with

Benson Commentary Job 16:1 Then Job answered and said, Job 16:1 . Then Job answered and said — “Job, above measure grieved that his friends should treat him in this cruel manner, expostulates very tenderly with them on the subject. He tells them he should, in the like circumstances, have behaved to them in a very different way, Job 16:2 . That he, as well as every one about him, was in the utmost astonishment, to find a man, whom he imagined his friend, accuse him falsely, and give him worse treatment than even his greatest enemies would have done. But that he plainly saw God was pleased to add this to the rest of his calamities; that he should not only be deprived of the comfort and assistance he might have expected from his friends, but that he should be used by them in a most relentless way, Job 16:7-14 . That he had voluntarily taken on him all the marks of humility used by the guilty, though he was really innocent; that God above knew his innocence, though his friends so slanderously traduced him, Job 16:15-22 . That he was sensible he was nigh his dissolution, otherwise he could return their own with interest, Job 17:1-3 . That he made no doubt, whenever the cause came to a decision, the event would prove favourable to him. In the mean time, they would do well to consider what effect this their treatment of him must have on all mankind, and how great a discouragement it must be to the lovers of virtue, to see a man, whose character was yet unstained, on bare suspicion, dealt with so cruelly by persons pretending to virtue and goodness, Job 16:4-9 . Would they but give themselves time to reflect, they must see that he could have no motive to hypocrisy; since all his schemes and hopes, with regard to life, were at an end, and, as he expected nothing but death, with what view could he play the hypocrite?” Job 16:10 , to the end. — Heath. Job 16:2 I have heard many such things: miserable comforters are ye all. Job 16:2 . I have heard many such things — Both from you and divers others; and though you please yourselves with them, as if you had some great and important discoveries, they are but vulgar and trivial things. Miserable comforters are ye all — Instead of giving me those comforts which you pretend to do, or offering any thing to alleviate my affliction, you only add to it, and make it yet more grievous. What Job says here of his friends is true of all creatures in comparison with God; at one time or other, we shall be made to see and acknowledge, that miserable comforters are they all. To a soul under deep conviction of sin, or the arrests of death, nothing but a manifestation of the favour of God, and the consolatory influences of his Spirit, can yield effectual comfort. Job 16:3 Shall vain words have an end? or what emboldeneth thee that thou answerest? Job 16:3 . Shall vain words have an end? — When wilt thou put an end to these impertinent discourses? He retorts upon him his charge, Job 15:2-3 . And what imboldeneth thee that thou answerest — Namely, in such a manner, so censoriously, opprobriously, and peremptorily. What secret grounds hast thou for thy confidence? Thy arguments are weak; if thou hast any stronger, produce them. It is a great piece of confidence to charge men, as Eliphaz did Job, with those crimes which we cannot prove upon them; to pass a judgment on men’s spiritual state, upon the view of their outward condition, and to re-advance those objections which have been again and again answered. Job 16:4 I also could speak as ye do : if your soul were in my soul's stead, I could heap up words against you, and shake mine head at you. Job 16:4 . I could also speak as ye do — It is an easy thing to trample upon those that are down, and to find fault with what those say who are in extremity of pain and affliction. If your soul were in my soul’s stead — If our conditions were changed, and you were in misery like me, and I at ease like you; I could heap up words against you — As you do against me; that is, I could multiply accusations and reproaches against you, and how would you like it? how would you bear it? and shake my head at you — In a way of derision, as this phrase is commonly used. Heath renders these clauses interrogatively, thus: If your soul were in my soul’s stead, would I accumulate sentences against you? would I shake my head at you? Which rendering gives the verse a very pathetic turn. Job 16:5 But I would strengthen you with my mouth, and the moving of my lips should asswage your grief . Job 16:5 . But I would strengthen you with my mouth — I would endeavour to direct, support, and comfort you, and say all I could to assuage your grief, but nothing to aggravate it. It is natural to sufferers to think what they would do if the tables were turned; but, perhaps, our hearts may deceive us; we know not what we would do; we find it easier to discern the reasonableness and importance of a command, when we have occasion to claim the benefit of it, than when we have occasion to do the duty of it. We ought, however, to say and do all we can to strengthen our brethren in affliction, suggesting to them such considerations as are proper to encourage their confidence in God, and to support their sinking spirits. Faith and patience, we should remember, are the strength of the afflicted, and what helps these graces, confirms the feeble knees. The reader will observe, there is nothing in the Hebrew for the words your grief, in the latter clause of this verse, which are therefore printed in Italic letters. Our translators supposed that there is an ellipsis in the Hebrew text, and that these, or some words of the same import, were necessary to complete the sense. But the word, ??? , nid, here rendered moving, (being derived from ??? , nud, which sometimes means to condole,) may be translated, compassion, and then, without supposing any defect in the text, the sense of the clause will be, Compassion should restrain, or, govern my lips; namely, that they should avoid all speeches which might vex you, and speak only what might be to your comfort and benefit; whereas you let your tongues loose to speak whatsoever pleaseth you, although it does not profit, but only torment me. Chappelow proposes yet another version of the words, which he thinks the true one, namely, I could be stronger than you with my mouth; but he [ God ] restrains the motion of my lips. Job 16:6 Though I speak, my grief is not asswaged: and though I forbear, what am I eased? Job 16:6 . Though I speak — To God by prayer, or to you in the way of discourse; my grief is not assuaged — I find no relief or comfort. Job, having reproved his friends for their unkind behaviour toward him, and aggravated it by contrasting therewith his resolutions to have acted in a more friendly manner toward them, if they had been in his case; now returns to his main business, namely, to describe his miseries, in order that, if possible, he might move his friends to pity and comfort him. Though I forbear, what am I eased? — What portion of my grief departs from me? I receive not one grain of ease or comfort. Neither speech nor silence does me any good. Job 16:7 But now he hath made me weary: thou hast made desolate all my company. Job 16:7 . But now he — Namely, God; hath made me weary — Either of complaining, or of my life. “He hath long since quite tired me with one trouble upon another.” — Bishop Patrick. Thou hast made desolate all my company — “Thou hast not ceased, O God, till thou hast left me neither goods nor children, no, nor a friend to comfort me.” He speaks in the second person, to God, as in the former clause in the third person, of God: such a change of persons is very usual in Scripture, and “is esteemed,” says Chappelow, “a singular ornament in poetry.” Job 16:8 And thou hast filled me with wrinkles, which is a witness against me : and my leanness rising up in me beareth witness to my face. Job 16:8 . Thou hast filled me with wrinkles — By consuming my flesh and reducing my body; which is a witness — Of the reality and greatness, and just cause of my sorrows. Or, which is made a witness; that is, produced by my friends as a proof of God’s anger and my hypocrisy and impiety. And my leanness rising up in me — Or, against me; as witnesses are wont to rise and stand up against a guilty person to accuse him; beareth witness to my face — Namely, openly and evidently, as witnesses accuse a person to his face; or, so that any, who look on my face, may plainly discern it. Bishop Patrick’s paraphrase is, “The furrows in my face (which is not old) show the greatness of my affliction, which is extremely augmented by him who rises up with false accusations to take away mine honour, as this consumption will do my life.” Job 16:9 He teareth me in his wrath, who hateth me: he gnasheth upon me with his teeth; mine enemy sharpeneth his eyes upon me. Job 16:9 . He teareth me in his wrath — Hebrew, ??? ??? , appo tarap, His wrath teareth me in pieces, properly, as a lion or other savage beast tears his prey, of which the word tarap is peculiarly used; who hateth me — ????????? , vajistemeni, rather, and hateth me; that is, pursues me with hatred, or as if he hated me. Some render it, adversatus est mihi, is hostile to me; or, acts as mine enemy. He gnasheth upon me with his teeth — A strong figurative expression, denoting extreme anger; mine enemy sharpeneth his eyes upon me — That is, looks upon me with a fierce and sparkling eye, as enraged persons are wont to look on those who have provoked them. It is a great question among commentators what enemy Job meant. Sol. Jarchi writes, Hasatan hu hatzar: Satan, he is the enemy. Certainly Satan was Job’s greatest enemy, and, by the divine permission, had brought all his sufferings upon him, and perhaps now frequently terrified him with apparitions. “It is not improbable,” says Henry, “that this is the enemy he means.” Many think that Eliphaz, who spoke last, and to whose speech Job is now replying, is intended. He had showed himself very much exasperated against Job; and might express himself with such marks of indignation as are here mentioned, rending Job’s good name, as Bishop Patrick expresses himself, and preaching nothing but terror against him. His eyes might be said to be sharpened to spy out matter of reproach against him, and very unkindly, yea, cruelly, both he and his friends had used him. Others, however, think that the expressions, though harsh, and apparently unbecoming to be applied to God, were, nevertheless, intended of him by Job, and are capable of being so interpreted as not to imply any reflection on the divine perfections. “The expressions,” says Chappelow, “are really not stronger than those which we read in other places, particularly in the eleventh and four following verses; as also 19:11, 30, 31.” The reader must observe, that the melancholy state of Job’s mind, and his dreadful sufferings under the chastising hand of God, which his friends never ceased to represent as the effects of divine wrath, had caused him to entertain distressing ideas of God’s terrors, and to view him, if not as an enemy, yet as a severe and inexorable judge, who was extreme to mark all his iniquities and failings. Job 16:10 They have gaped upon me with their mouth; they have smitten me upon the cheek reproachfully; they have gathered themselves together against me. Job 16:10 . They — My friends, the instruments of God’s anger; have gaped upon me with their mouth — Have opened their mouths wide against me; either, 1st, To devour and destroy me, as a lion which falls upon its pray with open mouth: see Psalm 22:13-14 , where these very expressions are used in the prediction of Christ’s sufferings, of whom, in all this, Job was an eminent type. Or, 2d, To scoff and deride me, as it follows, and as this phrase is most commonly used: see Psalm 22:8 ; Psalm 35:21 . They have smitten me upon the cheek reproachfully — Hebrew, ????? , becherpeh, by reproach; or in a way of scorn and contempt, of which smiting on the cheek was a sign: see Lamentations 3:30 ; Micah 5:1 . The meaning is, they have despised and derided me, the sign being put for the thing signified. They have gathered themselves together against me — They are come from several places, and have met together here, not for me, or to comfort me, as they pretended; but really against me, and to grieve and torment me. Job 16:11 God hath delivered me to the ungodly, and turned me over into the hands of the wicked. Job 16:11 . God hath delivered me to the ungodly — Either, 1st, To my friends, who act the part of the wicked in censuring and condemning the righteous, whom God approveth, and in pleading for a false and wicked cause. Or, rather, to the Chaldeans and Sabeans, who were a most ungodly and wicked people, living in gross contempt of God, and injurious to all sorts of men. This seems best to suit both with the first clause of the next verse, which shows that Job speaks of his first afflictions which befell him when he was at ease, and with his principal design, which was to prove that both eminent prosperity and affliction did indifferently happen both to good and bad men, which indeed was evident from this example: because holy Job was ruined at the very time when this wicked people were most victorious and successful. Job 16:12 I was at ease, but he hath broken me asunder: he hath also taken me by my neck, and shaken me to pieces, and set me up for his mark. Job 16:12 . I was at ease — I lived in great peace and prosperity, and was contented and happy in the comfortable enjoyment of the gifts of God’s bounty, not fretful and uneasy, as some are, in the midst of the blessings of providence, who thereby provoke God to take these blessings from them; but he hath broken me asunder — Hath broken my spirit with the sense of his anger, and my body with loathsome ulcers; and all my hopes and prospects, as to the present life, by the destruction of all my children and property. He hath also taken me by the neck — And thrown me down from an eminent condition into one most despicable; and shaken me to pieces — As a mighty man acts with some young stripling when he wrestles with him; and set me up for his mark — That he may shoot all his arrows into me, and wound me with one calamity after another. Job 16:13 His archers compass me round about, he cleaveth my reins asunder, and doth not spare; he poureth out my gall upon the ground. Job 16:13-14 . His archers compass me round about — His plagues or judgments, elsewhere compared to arrows, and here to archers, surround me on all sides, and assault me from every quarter. Whoever are our enemies, we must look on them as God’s archers, and see him directing the arrow. He cleaveth my reins asunder — He wounds me inwardly, mortally, and incurably; which is also signified by pouring out the gall; such wounds being deadly. “The metaphor,” says Heath, “is here taken from huntsmen. First they surround the beast; then he is shot dead; his entrails are next taken out; and then his body is divided limb from limb.” He breaketh me with breach upon breach — My indignities and miseries have no interruption, but one immediately succeeds another; he runneth upon me like a giant — Who falls upon his enemy with all his might, that he may overthrow and kill him. He assaults me in so violent and powerful a manner, that I can make no more resistance than a dwarf against a giant. Job 16:14 He breaketh me with breach upon breach, he runneth upon me like a giant. Job 16:15 I have sewed sackcloth upon my skin, and defiled my horn in the dust. Job 16:15-16 . I have sewed sackcloth upon my skin — I have put on sackcloth, not upon my other garments, but next to my skin; as was done in great calamities. So far am I from stretching out my hands against God, whereof I am accused, ( Job 15:25 ,) that I have humbled myself deeply under his hand, and I have even sewed sackcloth on me, as being resolved to continue my humiliation as long as my affliction continues. And defiled my horn in the dust — I have willingly parted with all my wealth, and power, and glory, (as the horn often signifies in Scripture,) and have been content to lie in the dust, and to endure the contempt which God hath brought upon me. “This phrase of defiling one’s horn in the dust,” says Chappelow, “is expressive of the greatest ignominy and contempt that a person can suffer, especially after he had been exalted to a high station.” My face is foul — The author of the Vulgate renders it, intumuit, hath swelled with weeping. And on my eyelids is the shadow of death — That is, a gross and terrible darkness. My sight is very dim, as is usual in case of sore diseases, or excessive grief and weeping, and especially in the approach of death. Job 16:16 My face is foul with weeping, and on my eyelids is the shadow of death; Job 16:17 Not for any injustice in mine hands: also my prayer is pure. Job 16:17-18 . Not for any justice in my hands — And all this is not come upon me for any injurious dealing, but for other reasons, known to God only; also my prayer is pure — I do not cast off God’s fear and service, Job 15:4 . I do still pray and worship God, and my prayer is accompanied with a sincere heart. O earth, cover not thou my blood — The earth is said to cover that blood which lies undiscovered and unrevenged: of which see on Genesis 4:10-11 ; and Isaiah 26:21 . But, says Job, if I be guilty of destroying any one man by murder, or oppression, as I am traduced, O Lord, let the earth disclose it; let it be brought to light, that I may suffer condign punishment for it. And let my cry have no place — That is, either, 1st, Let the cries and groans which I have forced from others by my oppressions, have no place to hide them. Or, rather, 2d, Let the cry of my complaints to men, or prayers to God, find no place in the ears or hearts of God or men, if this be true. Job 16:18 O earth, cover not thou my blood, and let my cry have no place. Job 16:19 Also now, behold, my witness is in heaven, and my record is on high. Job 16:19-20 . Behold, my witness is in heaven — Besides the witness of men, and of my own conscience, God is witness of my integrity. The witness of men, and even that in our own bosoms for us, will stand us in little stead if we have not a witness in heaven for us also: for God is greater than our own hearts, and than the hearts of all men: neither are we to judge ourselves, nor are men to be our judges. This therefore was Job’s triumph, that he had a witness in heaven, and could appeal to God’s omniscience concerning his integrity. My friends scorn me — Who ought to defend me from the scorns and injuries of others; but mine eye poureth out tears unto God — I pour forth my prayers and tears to him, that he would judge me according to my innocence, and plead my righteous cause against those that accuse and condemn me. Job 16:20 My friends scorn me: but mine eye poureth out tears unto God. Job 16:21 O that one might plead for a man with God, as a man pleadeth for his neighbour! Job 16:21 . O that one might plead for a man with God — O that either I or some faithful advocate might be admitted to plead my cause, either with God, or rather with you before God’s tribunal, God being witness and judge between us. A different translation of this verse is proposed by some, a translation which the Hebrew text will very well bear, namely, And he will plead (that is, there is one that will plead) for man with God, even the Son of man, for his friend or neighbour. Those who pour out tears before God, though they cannot plead for themselves by reason of their distance and defects, have a friend to plead for them, even the Son of man; and on this we must ground all our hopes of acceptance with God. Job 16:22 When a few years are come, then I shall go the way whence I shall not return. Job 16:22 . When a few years are come — The number of years which is determined and appointed to me; then I shall go the way whence I shall not return — Namely, to the state and place of the dead, whence men cannot return to this life. The meaning is, my death hastens, and therefore I earnestly desire that the cause depending between me and my friends may be determined, that if I be guilty of these things, I may bear the shame of it before all men; and, if I be innocent, that I may see my own integrity and the credit of religion (which suffers upon this occasion) vindicated, that so I may die in peace with God, and may leave the savour of a good name behind me. Observe, reader, to die is to go the way whence we shall not return. It is to go a journey, a long journey, a journey for good and all; to remove from this to another country, from the world of sense to the world of spirits! It is a journey to our long home; there will be no coming back to our state in this world, nor any change of our state in the other world. We must all of us very certainly, and very shortly, go this journey; and it is comfortable to those who keep a good conscience to think of it; for it is the crown of their integrity. Benson Commentary on the Old and New Testaments Text Courtesy of BibleSupport.com . Used by Permission.

Expositor's Bible Commentary Job 16:1 Then Job answered and said, XIV. "MY WITNESS IN HEAVEN" Job 16:1-22 ; Job 17:1-16 Job SPEAKS IF it were comforting to be told of misery and misfortune, to hear the doom of insolent evildoers described again and again in varying terms, then Job should have been comforted. But his friends had lost sight of their errand, and he had to recall them to it. "I have heard many such things: Afflictive comforters are ye all. Shall vain words have an end?" He would have them consider that perpetual harping on one string is but a sober accomplishment! Returning one after another to the wicked man, the godless sinner, crafty, froward, sensual, overbearing, and his certain fate of disaster and extinction, they are at once obstinately ungracious and to Job’s mind pitifully inept. He is indisposed to argue afresh with them, but he cannot refrain from expressing his sorrow and indeed his indignation that they have offered him a stone for bread. Excusing themselves, they had blamed him for his indifference to the "consolations of God." All he had been aware of was their "joining words together" against him with much shaking of the head. Was that Divine consolation? Anything, it seemed, was good enough for him, a man under the stroke of God. Perhaps he is a little unfair to his comforters. They cannot drop their creed in order to assuage his grief. In a sense it would have been easy to murmur soothing inanities. "One writes that ‘Other friends remain,’ That ‘Loss is common to the race’- And common is the commonplace, And vacant chaff well meant for grain." "That loss is common would not make My own less bitter, rather more: Too common! Never morning wore To evening, but some heart did break." Even so: the courteous superficial talk of men who said, Friend, you are only accidentally afflicted; there is no stroke of God in this: wait a little till the shadows pass, and meanwhile let us cheer you by stories of old times: - such talk would have served Job even less than the serious attempt of the friends to settle the problem. It is therefore with somewhat inconsiderate irony he blames them for not giving what, if they had offered it, he would have rejected with scorn. "I also could speak like you; If your soul were in my soul’s stead, I could join words together against you, And shake my head at you; I could strengthen you with my mouth, And the solace of my lips should assuage your grief." The passage is throughout ironical. No change of tone occurs in Job 16:5 , as the opening word but in the English version is intended to imply. Job means, of course, that such consolation as they were offering he never would have offered them. It would be easy, but abhorrent. So far in sad sarcasm; and then, the sense of desolation falling too heavily on his mind for banter or remonstrance, he returns to his complaint. What is he among men? What is he in himself? What is he before God? Alone, stricken, the object of fierce assault and galling reproach. After a pause of sorrowful thought he resumes the attempt to express his woes, a final protest before his lips are silent in death. He cannot hope that speaking will relieve his sorrow or mitigate his pain. He would prefer to bear on "In all the silent manliness of grief." But as yet the appeal he has made to God remains unanswered, for aught he knows unheard. It appears therefore his duty to his own reputation and his faith that he endeavour yet again to break the obstinate doubts of his integrity which still estrange from him those who were his friends. He uses indeed language that will not commend his case but tend to confirm every suspicion. Were he wise in the world’s way he would refrain from repeating his complaint against God. Rather would he speak of his misery as a simple fact of experience and strive to argue himself into submission. This line he has not taken and never takes. It is present to his own mind that the hand of God is against him. Whether men will join him by and by in an appeal from God to God he cannot tell. But once more all that he sees or seems to see he will declare. Every step may bring him into more painful isolation, yet he will proclaim his wrong. "Certainly, now, He hath wearied me out. Thou hast made desolate my company; Thou hast taken hold of me, And it is a witness against me; And my leanness riseth up against me Bearing witness to my face." He is exhausted; he has come to the last stage. The circle of his family and friends in which he once stood enjoying the love and esteem of all-where is it now? That hold of life is gone. Then, as if in sheer malice, God has plucked health from him, and doing so, left a charge of unworthiness. By the sore disease the Divine hand grasps him, keeps him down. The emaciation of his body bears witness against him as an object of wrath. Yes; God is his enemy, and how terrible an enemy! He is like a savage lion that tears with his teeth and glares as if in act to devour. With God, men also, in their degree, persecute and assail him. People from the city have come out to gaze upon him. Word has gone round that he is being crushed by the Almighty for proud defiance and blasphemy. Men who once trembled before him have smitten him upon the cheek reproachfully. They gather in groups to jeer at him. He is delivered into their hands. But it is God, not men, of whose strange work he has most bitterly to speak. Words almost fail him to express what his Almighty Foe has done. I was at ease, and He brake me asunder; Yea he hath taken me by the neck And dashed me to pieces: He hath also set me as His butt, His arrows compass me round about, He cleaveth my reins asunder and spareth not, He poureth my gall on the ground; He breaketh me with breach upon breach, He runneth upon me like a giant. Figure after figure expresses the sense of persecution by one full of resource who cannot be resisted. Job declares himself to be physically bruised and broken. The stings and sores of his disease are like arrows shot from every side that rankle in his flesh. He is like a fortress beleaguered and stormed by some irresistible enemy. His strength humbled to the dust, his eyes foul with weeping, the eyelids swollen so that he cannot see, he lies abased and helpless, stricken to the very heart. But not in the chastened mood of one who has done evil and is now brought to contrite submission. That is as far from him as ever. The whole account is of persecution, undeserved. He suffers, but protests still that there is no violence in his hands, also his prayer is pure. Let neither God nor man think he is concealing sin and making appeal craftily. Sincere he is in every word. At this point, where Job’s impassioned language might be expected to lead to a fresh outburst against heaven and earth, one of the most dramatic turns in the thought of the sufferer brings it suddenly to a minor harmony with the creation and the Creator. His excitement is intense. Spiritual eagerness approaches the highest point. He invokes the earth to help him and the mountain echoes. He protests that his claim of integrity has its witness and must be acknowledged. For this new and most pathetic effort to reach a benignant fidelity in God which all his cries have not yet stirred, the former speeches have made preparation. Rising from the thought that it was all one to God whether he lived or died since the perfect and the wicked are alike destroyed, bewailing the want of a daysman between him and the Most High, Job in the tenth chapter touched the thought that his Maker could not despise the work of His own hands. Again, in chapter 14, the possibility of redemption from Sheol gladdened him for a little. Now, under the shadow of imminent death, he abandons the hope of deliverance from the underworld. Immediately, if at all, his vindication must come. And it exists, written on the breast of earth, open to the heavens, somewhere in clear words before the Highest. Not vainly did the speaker in his days of past felicity serve God with all his heart. The God he then worshipped heard his prayers, accepted his offerings, made him glad with a friendship that was. no empty dream. Somewhere his Divine Friend lives still, observes still his tears and agonies and cries. Those enemies about him taunting him with sins he never committed, this horrible malady bearing him down into death; -God knows of these, knows them to be cruel and undeserved. He cries to that God, Eloah of the Elohim, Higher than the highest. O Earth, cover not my blood, And let my cry have no resting place! Even now, lo! my witness is in heaven, And He that voucheth for me is on high. My friends scorn me: Mine eye sheds tears unto God- That he would right a man against God, And a son of man against his friend. Now, in the present stage of being, before those years expire that lead him to the grave, Job entreats the vindication which exists in the records of heaven. As a son of man he pleads, not as one who has any peculiar claim, but simply as a creature of the Almighty; and he pleads for the first time with tears. The fact that earth, too, is besought to help him must not be overlooked. There is a touch of wide and wistful emotion, a sense that Eloah must regard the witness of His world. The thought has its colour from a very old feeling; it takes us back to primeval faith, and the dumb longing before faith. Is there in any sense a deeper depth in the faithfulness of God, a higher heaven, more difficult to penetrate, of Divine benignity? Job is making a bold effort to break that barrier we have already found to exist in Hebrew thought between God as revealed by nature and providence and God as vindicator of the individual life. The man has that in his own heart which vouches for his life, though calamity and disease impeach him. And in the heart of God also there must be a witness to His faithful servant, although, meanwhile, something interferes with the testimony God could bear. Job’s appeal is to the sun beyond the rolling clouds to shine. It is there; God is faithful and true. It will shine. But let it shine now! Human life is brief and delay will be disastrous. Pathetic cry-a struggle against what in ordinary life is the inexorable. How many have gone the way whence they shall not return, unheard apparently, unvindicated, hidden in calumny and shame! And yet Job was right. The Maker has regard to the work of His hands. The philosophy of Job’s appeal is this, that beneath all seeming discord there is one clear note. The universe is one and belongs to One, from the highest heaven to the deepest pit. Nature, providence, -what are they but the veil behind which the One Supreme is hidden, the veil God’s own hands have wrought? We see the Divine in the folds, of the veil, the marvellous pictures of the arras. Yet behind is He who weaves the changing forms, iridescent with colours of heaven, dark with unutterable mystery. Man is now in the shadow of the veil, now in the light of it, self-pitying, exultant, in despair, in ecstasy. He would pass the barrier. It will not yield at his will. It is no veil now, but a wall of adamant. Yet faith on this side answers to truth beyond; of this the soul is assured. The cry is for God to unravel the enigmas of His own providence, to unfold the principle of His discipline, to make clear what is perplexing to the mind and conscience of His thinking, suffering creature. None but He who weaves the web can withdraw it, and let the light of eternity shine on the tangles of time. From God the Concealer to God the Revealer, from God who hides Himself to God who is Light, in whom is no darkness at all, we appeal. To pray on-that is man’s high privilege, man’s spiritual life. So the passage we have read is a splendid utterance of the wayworn travelling soul conscious of sublime possibilities, -shall we not say, certainties? Job is God-inspired in his cry, not profane, not mad, but prophetic. For God is a bold dealer with men, and He likes bold sons. The impeachment we almost shuddered to hear is not abominable to Him because it is the truth of a soul. The claim that God is man’s witness is the true courage of faith: it is sincere, and it is justified. The demand for immediate vindication still urged is inseparable from the circumstances. For when a few years are come I shall go the way whence I shall not return. My spirit is consumed, my days extinct; The grave is ready for me. Surely there are mockeries with me And mine eye lodgeth in their provocation. Provide a pledge now; be surety for me with Thyself. Who is there that will strike hands with me? Moving towards the underworld, the fire of his spirit burning low because of his disease, his body preparing its own grave, the bystanders flouting him with mockeries under a sense of which his eyes remain closed in weary endurance, he has need for one to undertake for him, to give him a pledge of redemption. But who is there excepting God to whom he can appeal? What other friend is left? Who else would be surety for one so forlorn? Against disease and fate, against the seeming wreck of hope and life, will not God Himself stand up for His servant? As for the men his friends, his enemies, the Divine suretyship for Job will recoil upon them and their cruel taunts. Their hearts are "hid from understanding," unable to grasp the truth of the case; "Therefore Thou shalt not exalt them"-that is, Thou shalt bring them low. Yes, when God redeems His pledge, declares openly that He has undertaken for His servant, the proverb shall be fulfilled-"He that giveth his fellows for a prey, even the eyes of his children shall fail." It is a proverb of the old way of thinking and carries a kind of imprecation. Job forgets himself in using it. Yet how, otherwise, is the justice of God to be invoked against those who pervert judgment and will not receive the sincere defence of a dying man? "I am even made a byeword of the populace; I am become one in whose face they spit: Mine eye also fails by reason of sorrow." This is apparently parenthetical-and then Job returns to the result of the intervention of his Divine Friend. One reason why God should become his surety is the pitiable state he is in. But another reason is the new impetus that will be given to religion, the awakening of good men out of their despondency, the reassurance of those who are pure in heart, the growth of spiritual strength in the faithful and true. A fresh light thrown on providence shall indeed startle and revive the world. "Upright men shall be amazed at this, And the innocent shall rouse himself against the godless. And the righteous shall keep his way, And he that hath clean hands wax stronger and stronger." With this hope, that his life is to be rescued from darkness and the faith of the good re-established by the fulfilment of God’s suretyship, Job comforts himself for a little-but only for a little, a moment of strength, during which he has courage to dismiss his friends:- "But as for you all, turn ye, and go; For I shall not find a wise man among you." They have forfeited all claim to his attention. Their continued discussion of the ways of God will only aggravate his pain. Let them take their departure then and leave him in peace. The final passage of the speech referring to a hope present to Job’s mind has been variously interpreted. It is generally supposed that the reference is to the promise held out by the friends that repentance will bring him relief from trouble and new prosperity. But this is long ago dismissed. It seems clear that my hope, an expression twice used, cannot refer to one pressed upon Job but never accepted. It must denote either the hope that God would after Job’s death lay aside His anger and forgive, or the hope that God would strike hands with him and undertake his case against all adverse forces and circumstances. If this be the meaning, the course of thought in the last strophe, from Job 17:11 onward, is the following, -Life is running to a low ebb with me, all I had once in my heart to do is arrested, brought to an end; so gloomy are my thoughts that they set night for day, the light is near unto darkness. If I wait till death come and Sheol be my habitation and my body is given to corruption, where then shall my hope of vindication be? As for the fulfilment of my trust in God, who shall see it? The effort once made to maintain hope even in the face of death is not forgotten. But he questions now whether it has the least ground in fact. The sense of bodily decay masters his brave prevision of a deliverance from Sheol. His mind needs yet another strain put upon it before it shall rise to the magnificent assertion-Without my flesh I shall see God. The tides of trust ebb and flow. There is here a low ebb. The next advance will mark the springtide of resolute belief. If I wait till Sheol is my house; Till I have spread my couch in darkness: If I shall have said to corruption, My father art thou, To the worm, My mother and my sister- Where then were my hope? As for my hope, who shall see it? It shall go down to the bars of Sheol, When once there is rest in the dust. How strenuous is the thought that has to fight with the grave and corruption! The body in its emaciation and decay, doomed to be the prey of worms, appears to drag with it into the nether darkness the eager life of the spirit. Those who have the Christian outlook to another life may measure by the oppression Job has to endure the value of that revelation of immortality which is the gift of Christ. Not in error, not in unbelief, did a man like Job fight with grim death, strive to keep it at bay till his character was cleared. There was no acknowledged doctrine of the future to found upon. Of sheer necessity each burdened soul had to seek its own Apocalypse. He who had suffered with bleeding heart a lifelong sacrifice, he who had striven to free his fellow slaves and sank at last overborne by tyrannous power, the brave defeated, the good betrayed, those who sought through heathen beliefs and those who found in revealed religion the promises of God-all alike stood in sorrowful ignorance before inexorable death, beheld the shadows of the underworld and singly battled for hope amidst the deepening gloom. The sense of the overwhelming disaster of death to one whose life and religion are scornfully condemned is not ascribed to Job as a peculiar trial, rarely mingling with human experience. The writer of the book has himself felt it and has seen the shadow of it on many a face. "Where," as one asks, "were the tears of God as He thrust back into eternal stillness the hands stretched out to Him in dying faith?" There was a religion which gave large and elaborate answer to the questions of mortality. The wide intelligence of the author of Job can hardly have missed the creed and ceremonial of Egypt; he cannot have failed to remember its "Book of the Dead." His own work, throughout, is at once a parallel and a contrast to that old vision of future life and Divine judgment. It has been affirmed that some of the forms of expression, especially in the nineteenth chapter, have their source in the Egyptian scripture, and that the "Book of the Dead" is full of spiritual aspirations which give it a striking resemblance to the Book of Job. Now, undoubtedly, the correspondence is remarkable and will bear examination. The soul comes before Osiris, who holds the shepherd’s crook and the penal scourge. Thoth (or Logos) breathes new spirit into the embalmed body, and the dead pleads for himself before the assessors-"Hail to thee, great Lord of Justice. I arrive near thee. I am one of those consecrated to thee on the earth. I reach the land of eternity. I rejoin the eternal country. Living is he who dwelleth in darkness; all his grandeurs live." The dead is in fact not dead, he is recreated; the mouth of no worm shall devour him. At the close of the "Book of the Dead" it is written, the departed "shall be among the gods; his flesh and bones shall be healthy as one who is not dead. He shall shine as a star forever and ever. He seeth God with his flesh." The defence of the soul in claiming beatitude is this: "I have committed no revenge in act or in heart, no excesses in love. I have injured no one with lies. I have driven away no beggars, committed no treacheries, caused no tears. I have not taken another’s property, nor ruined another, nor destroyed the laws of righteousness. I have not aroused contests, nor neglected the Creator of my soul. I have not disturbed the joy of others. I have not passed by the oppressed, sinning against my Creator, or the Lord, or the heavenly powers I am pure, pure." There are many evident resemblances which have been already studied and would repay further attention; but the questions occur, how far the author of the Book of Job refused Egyptian influences, and why, in the face of a solution of his problem apparently thrust upon him with the authority of ages, he yet exerted himself to find a solution of his own, meanwhile throwing his hero into the hopelessness of one to whom death as a physical fact is final, compelled to forego the expectation of a daysman who should affirm his righteousness before the Lord of all. The "Book of the Dead" was, for one thing, identified with polytheism, with idolatry and a priestly system; and a thinker whose belief was entirely monotheistic, whose mind turned decisively from ritual, whose interests were widely humane, was not likely to accept as a revelation the promises of Egyptian priests to their aristocratic patrons, or to seek light from the mysteries of Isis and Osiris. Throughout his book our author is advancing to a conclusion altogether apart from the ideas of Egyptian faith regarding the trust of the soul. But chiefly his mind seems to have been repelled by the excessive care given to the dead body, with the consequent materialising of religion. Life to him meant so much that he needed a far more spiritual basis for its continuance than could be found in the preservation of the worn out frame; With rare and unsurpassed endeavour he was straining beyond time and sense after a vision of life in the union of man’s spirit with its Maker, and that Divine constancy in which alone faith could have acceptance and repose. No thought of maintaining himself in existence by having his body embalmed is ever expressed by Job. The author seems to scorn that childish dream of continuance. Death means decay, corruption. This doom passed on the body the stricken life must endure, and the soul must stay itself upon the righteousness and grace of God. The Expositor's Bible Text Courtesy of BibleSupport.com . Used by Permission.