The writer of the Book of Job is a born dramatist. It is of the essence of his active mind to recognize and state all the arguments which make for and against the conclusion which he himself has reached; and he finds a rudimentary form of dramatic art the fittest medium for a full and adequate discussion of the burning question of his age. Out of the rich store of the nation's legends he chooses the case of a blameless, upright, God-fearing sheikh, the greatest of the sons of the East, who was suddenly cast from the height of prosperity to the lowest depth of misery. Stripped of his wealth, bereft of his family, struck down with a loathsome disease, doomed to an early and painful death, regarded as a common criminal by those near and dear to him, this man presents an absolute contradiction to the ideal union of moral rectitude and worldly happiness. By means of a daring prologue in Heaven, the poet claims the Divine sanction for his own view that the suffering of the righteous man is not the punishment of sin but the trial of faith. Job himself, though ignorant of this aspect of the case, at first bears his unparalleled misfortunes with exemplary patience; but, having been educated in the old faith, and necessarily regarding the calamities which have overtaken him as signs of God's anger, he is gradually forced to the agonizing conclusion that God is unjust.
Job's doubts exhibit themselves by stages. (1) In the first instance he has none. His attitude under his several crushing calamities was, like the whole of his early course, “perfect,” exhibiting a marvellous degree of submission to God's providence. He “sinned not, nor charged God with foolishness.” Having received much good at the hands of God, he was content to receive evil; though it is to be observed that his resignation, as expressed in Job_2:10, is not quite as complete as that in Job_1:20-22. During many days and nights after this he was silent, his silence expressing a negative but real submission even in the extremity of his grief. (2) Even when he opened his mouth with the bitter cry of Job_3:1-26, he expressed no religious doubt or denial. He “cursed his day,” not God. The third chapter is one long moan. It is a very terrible cry of human despair, but it is not so far a complaint, still less an indictment of Divine justice. (3) This feature of Job's utterances appears only after Eliphaz has applied to his smarting sores the sharp blister of an insinuation that his calamities spring from unfaithfulness to God. This is too much for him. He begins to admit more distinctly that his sufferings are from God (Job_6:4), and yet he knows that he has “not denied the words of the Holy One” (Job_6:10). After this he allows all the bitterness of his soul to stream forth. Sometimes he scornfully repudiates the milder insinuations or downright reproaches of his friends. Sometimes he appeals indignantly to God, who knows his uprightness of heart and integrity of life. Sometimes he remonstrates with the Most High, or complains that direct remonstrance is impossible, for if he “knew where he might find him, he would fill his mouth with arguments.” (4) At a later stage he replies more calmly, so far as the friends are concerned. His confidence that there is a Supreme Tribunal, before which even this high cause may be argued, grows and deepens. He casts about for some as yet unrevealed solution, and at the end of Job_19:1-29 appears disposed to rest in a sublime, unquenchable hope. (5) Yet again, this fails him. In the course of chap. 28 he appears to be saying to himself-for the friends are beyond the reach of argument-that wisdom in these matters is for God alone, man's wisdom being to give himself to the duties of practical religion, since these alone are within his reach. The long monologue with which Job closes exhibits him in a comparatively calm but altogether unsatisfied state of mind, for not in pensive reminiscences, or in a reassertion of his righteousness, or in a vain cry “Oh, that I had one to hear me!” is peace to be found. But before we come to the statement that “the words of Job are ended,” almost every mood of doubt and appeal and denial has been passed through, and has been so fully represented that we may say each has received sympathetic recognition in this remarkable book. And that that should be so is the first proof-no small one-of the value of the Book of Job in our sacred literature.
But let us take the book in order. As it now lies before us, it consists of five parts-the Prologue, the Debate, the Intervention of Elihu, the Answer of the Almighty, and the Epilogue.
1. The Prologue.-The Prologue acquaints us with the person and character of Job, and the occasion of the calamities which befell him. Job is a man “perfect and upright, and one that feared God, and eschewed evil,” a non-Israelite, who lived in Uz. He is depicted as a prosperous Arab sheikh, rich in cattle and other possessions, and displaying a tender solicitude for the welfare of his family. But the scene changes; aud we are transported by the poet from the plains of Uz to the halls of Heaven, where, like an Oriental Sovereign, the Almighty holds His court. The “sons of God,” i.e., the angels, come from time to time to report themselves to their Sovereign; upon the occasion pictured by the poet, one called “the Satan,” i.e., “the Opposer,” the angel whose part it is to oppose men's claims to righteousness before God, and who takes a cynical delight in detecting flaws in their character, presents himself among them. Upon his attention being directed by the Almighty to His righteous servant, Job, the Satan is ready with his reply, Doth Job serve God for nought? His righteousness, he insinuates, is not disinterested; he is sufficiently rewarded for it by the blessings lavished upon him by God; if these were withdrawn, he would disown God to His face. The Satan thereupon receives permission to test Job's piety as severely as may be, without touching his person; and one after another his cattle are raided, his sheep struck by lightning, his servants slain, and his children killed by the house in which they are feasting being suddenly blown down. But Job's piety stands the trial; he is deeply affected, but receives his misfortunes with resignation:
“Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I return thither:
The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”
A second time the celestial court is held, and again the Satan is present. Dissatisfied with the test which has been already applied to Job, he receives permission to try the patriarch again. Forthwith Job is smitten from head to foot with sore boils, probably the severe and distressing form of leprosy called elephantiasis. In spite of the pitiable condition to which he is reduced, he still utters no complaint; when his wife counsels him to “renounce God and die,” he repels her advice with some emphasis, exclaiming, “What? shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil?”
Two important points are thus far established by the Prologue, viz., that there may be such a thing as undeserved misfortune, and also such a thing as disinterested goodness. We, of course, doubt neither of these things now; but the first, at all events, was doubted by many when the poem of Job was written.
2. The Debate.-While the Prologue is written in prose, the Debate between Job and his friends (chaps. 4-31) is written in poetry. This comprises a series of speeches in which the problem of Job's afflictions, and the relation of external evil to the righteousness of God and the conduct of men, are brilliantly discussed. The theory of the friends is that affliction implies previous sin on the part of the sufferer, though in the case of a good man such as Job it is chastisement meant to wean him from evil still cleaving to him; and they exhort him to repentance, and hold up a bright future before him. Job denies that his sufferings are due to sin, of which he is innocent; God wrongly holds him guilty and afflicts him. And, taught by his own history, he is led to look more narrowly at the course of providence in the world, and he fails to perceive that inseparable connexion in every instance between sin and suffering which the three friends insisted on; the providence of God is not in fact administered on such a principle.
The discussion between Job and his friends consists of three circles of speeches: (1) chaps. 4-14; (2) chaps. 15-21; and (3) chaps. 22-31. Each of these three circles comprises six speeches, one from each of the three friends in succession, with a reply from Job. In the last round, however, Zophar, the third speaker, fails to come forward. This is a confession of defeat; and Job, left victor in the strife, resumes his “parable,” and carries it through a series of chapters, in which, with profound pathos, he contrasts his former greatness with his present humiliation, protests before Heaven his innocence of all the offences that have been insinuated or may be suggested against him, and adjures God to reveal to him the cause of his afflictions.
3. The Intervention of Elihu.-After Job's appeal to God, at the end of chap. 31, it might be thought that the crisis of the poem was at hand, and that God must appear to pronounce His verdict upon the discussion. Instead of this, however, Elihu, a speaker who has not been named or alluded to before, steps forward, and expresses his judgment upon the matter in dispute. Elihu is represented as a bystander who has listened to the debate with some dissatisfaction at the line taken in it by both parties; being younger, however, than the other disputants, he has waited until now before venturing to take part in it. In spite, however, of the seeming modesty of his opening words, Elihu in the sequel displays considerable self-consciousness, and speaks in terms which show that he has no small idea of the value of the “wisdom” which he is able to utter.
In what he says, chap. 32 is introductory; in chaps. 33, 34, 35 he replies to three of Job's main contentions, viz., that God is his enemy and does not answer his cries, that He afflicts him unjustly, and that righteousness is of no profit to a man; in chaps. 36, 37, which contain his positive contribution to the solution of the problem, he insists firstly upon the disciplinary value of suffering (Job_36:8-21), and secondly upon the greatness of God, which renders Him incapable of all pettiness or arbitrary injustice (Job_36:26-33; Job_37:1-24).
Elihu's views in regard to suffering were not so far-reaching as those of the author of the poem. Elihu saw that affliction was disciplinary rather than retributive. But he erroneously conceived the purpose of this discipline as always one and the same, viz., to make men conscious of their sins. He did not perceive that there were other lessons which suffering might teach, and other purposes which it might subserve. Job was not suffering on account of his sins, since “for righteousness there was not his like in all the earth.” He was suffering, the poet tells us, to prove, in opposition to “the Adversary” and all other cynics, the possibility of an unselfish goodness. This suggestion, so skilfully introduced into the Prologue, Elihu altogether missed.
In regard to prayer, however, Elihu's teaching is really fresh and valuable. Prayer is too often, as he says, but an instinctive cry for deliverance from pain, whereas it should be rather a request for enlightenment and for spiritual help. If God be a loving God, there must be a wise and beneficent purpose underlying all calamity. As Elihu finely puts it, God delivers the afflicted by their afflictions. And so our prayer, when we are in suffering, should be, not so much that this suffering may be removed as that we may be enabled to learn from it the lesson it was intended to teach, and to derive from it the benefit it was meant to confer. There is much need that we all lay to heart Elihu's counsel. If we examine ourselves, we shall find that our prayers are most fervent and most real when we are merely asking for some temporal blessing. Our requests for spiritual enlightenment and help are comparatively languid and forced. We are too anxious to inform the Almighty of our wishes and to bend Him to our will. But to pray in this fashion is to prostitute our noblest endowment. We should be chiefly concerned to understand the Divine will more perfectly, and to be strengthened that we may obey. The main burden of all true prayer is contained in the pregnant summary of Elihu, “That which I see not, teach thou me; if I have done iniquity, I will do it no more.” Well will it be for us if we can say, with all the fervour of which our nature is capable:
I do not ask, O Lord, that life may be
A pleasant road;
I do not ask that Thou wouldst take from me
Aught of its load:
I do not ask that flowers should always spring
Beneath my feet;
I know too well the poison and the sting
Of things too sweet.
For one thing only, Lord, dear Lord, I plead:
Lead me aright-
Though strength should falter and though heart should bleed,
Through Peace to Light.
4. The Answer of the Almighty.-In the original poem, we may take it for granted, Job's soliloquy, which finished in chapter 31, was immediately followed by Jehovah's speech, which begins in chapter 38. For it is almost certain that the Elihu speeches are not part of the original poem of Job, but the addition of a later writer, who wished to emphasize certain considerations to which he thought sufficient weight had not been attached by the other speakers.
So soon as Job is prepared to hear, God speaks; the revelation comes at the right moment. The man has learned through the things he has suffered. His faith in the ancient theory is dead; he has ceased to judge God according to it. A dim hope has been growing within him into a fixed conviction. This little and troubled life lies in the bosom of eternity, and God acts as one who has eternity before Him, afflicts the righteous mortal that He may redeem him to a more glorious immortality. Is this conviction justified? The more the inequalities, the misjudgments of life, the relations of good and evil in time are looked at, the more necessary does it seem to faith; without it how can belief in the righteousness of the Eternal live? And so with a humbler spirit, and out of deeper necessities, Job cries, “Oh that I had one to hear me! Behold, here is my signature, let the Almighty answer me!” And the Almighty does answer him; Jehovah speaks out of the whirlwind.
Here everything is significant; the speeches are a wonderland of poetry and truth. The whirlwind declares the majesty of the Speaker, the might and multitude of the forces He has to control. Job at the outset is lifted to an altitude higher than he had yet dreamed of; his problem is not to be solved in and through himself, even with immortality assured; the universe enters into it. God cannot reign as if the one Sovereign had but one subject; He must deal with the individual as part of a complex whole, yet of a whole that can be governed in wisdom only as the individuals are justly and graciously handled. This is the point which the opening of the speeches emphasizes. Job has interrogated God; God will now interrogate Job. “Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge?” The calamities that so perplex, the sufferings that have worked so many sorrows, are not accidents; there is a Divine purpose in them. What is confusion to Job is order to God; counsel is in it and wisdom too vast to be comprehended, but true enough to be trusted. For what is the range of man's vision compared with God's? “Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? declare, if thou hast understanding.” Then the story of creation and providence is told with a stateliness and a splendour of imagery that have never been paralleled. Everywhere God acts, every moment He is active. And as the sphere of the Divine action is thus made to open into infinity, the Speaker suddenly pauses to ask, “Shall he that cavilleth contend with the Almighty? he that argueth with God, let him answer it.” And Job replies, “Behold, I am of small account; what shall I answer thee? I lay mine hand upon my mouth. Once have I spoken, and I will not answer (again); yea twice, but I will proceed no further.”
In the second speech even a higher strain is reached. Job is to “gird up his loins like a man.” Is he to condemn God that he himself may be righteous? But only a God could judge God, Divine wisdom alone could comprehend and appraise the wisdom of the Divine. Then with a most daring yet magnificent stroke of imagination the poet says: Become in thought God; “deck thyself now with excellency and dignity, and array thyself with honour and majesty.” So clothed, use all thy energies to abase the proud and bring the evil to the dust. In that endeavour God will praise thee, for He knows what it is to be God; yet one who knows only what it is to be man judges Him who is God alone! The speech then breaks into a marvellous description of the mighty creatures of the Nile, chiefest of the works of God, the contemplation of which completes the instruction, humbling the sufferer into resignation, yet raising him to a more perfect faith. He confesses: “I have uttered that which I understood not, things too wonderful for me, which I knew not.” He had judged wrongly because he had judged in ignorance. The traditional theory had blinded him; he had been unable to see God for the doctrines of men. “I had heard of thee by the hearing of the ear,” and so had misjudged; “but now mine eye seeth thee; wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.”
5. The Epilogue.-The Epilogue may appear to present an anti-climax. It may seem a descent from a lofty spiritual height to a very mundane level, to read after this of Job's having twice as much as he had before, all his relatives and friends gathering about him, that “every man also gave him a piece of money, and every one a ring of gold.” If Job really thought that this was the deepest solution of the problem, he had been taught his lesson in vain. But the explanation is very simple. Under the conditions of the time, this was the only way in which to indicate Job's complete justification. The writer could not say, “And Job died, and he was carried away by the angels into Abraham's bosom.” The Epilogue does but fulfil the conditions of what we call “poetic justice,” and reinstates Job in the position of which he had been deprived for high ends which were beyond his ken. Job's subsequent prosperity is the translation into the concrete of the Divine judgment that “the Lord accepted Job.” Perhaps, too, as has been suggested, Job was now able for the first time to use material prosperity, enjoyment, comfort, and “happiness” in the only way in which they are really healthy for man.
Prosperity, enjoyment, happiness, comfort, peace, whatever be the name by which we designate that state in which life is to our own selves pleasant and delightful, as long as they are sought or prized as things essential, so far have a tendency to disennoble our nature, and are a sign that we are still in servitude to selfishness. Only when they lie outside us, as ornaments merely to be worn or laid aside as God pleases-only then may such things be possessed with impunity. Job's heart in early times had clung to them more than he knew, but now he was purged clean, and they were restored because he had ceased to need them.1 [Note: J. A. Froude, Short Studies on Great Subjects, i. 321.]
There is no virtue in being in poverty; nor is there any evil in being in good worldly circumstances. The evil is to think that the command of the things of the world is everything, or the principal thing. Apply yourself with all your might to earning money, in an honest way, as the means of procuring the things which sustain and elevate life; but never forget that these things are only the material basis of life; that what is most important to you is to raise yourself in the scale of being; and that what matters most to every individual is not one's external circumstances, but one's inner soul-state. The desire to “get on” is quite laudable, in so far as it means making the most of life. It is of some importance, however, to know that one is “getting on” to something really worth attaining. Put down the selfish desires which blind and dominate, and look fairly and calmly at life. You are here only for a short time; some years hence you will be called to leave this world and all that pertains to it. You will then be just what you have made yourself: the only wealth and poverty that will count will be that which is in yourself. Your only real wealth then will be what you have put into yourself by elevating yourself in the scale of life; and your only enduring satisfaction will be in the good that you have done. As much good as you have put into yourself and into the life of man, so much will stand to your credit and no more. This will be the only investment that will not fail you.2 [Note: R. H. Hodgson, Glad Tidings! 56.]
