Chapter Seven
1–10. The second half of Job’s response to Eliphaz 11–21. The impossibility of hope for happiness. Complaints against God, who has punished Job without cause
Job 7:1-10. In the second half of his speech Eliphaz expressed confidence that Job, upon the condition of humble turning to God, would be restored to earthly prosperity (Job 5:8-26). Against this declaration of the senior friend the second part of Job’s speech is directed, proving the impossibility of happiness for himself.
Job 7:1. Is there not a fixed time appointed to man upon the earth, and are not his days like the days of a hired laborer? Job 7:2. As a servant longs for the shadow, and as a hired laborer waits for the end of his work, Job 7:3. so I have inherited empty months, and nights of sorrow are allotted to me. Job 7:4. When I lie down, I say: when shall I arise? and the evening drags on, and I toss restlessly until dawn. Happiness is impossible at the present time. Human life on earth is hard, like military service (“tsaba,” cf. Isa 40:2 – “time of struggle”), like an unfree existence full of toil like that of a hired laborer; Job’s condition is even more difficult. The servant finds rest in the evening, and the laborer receives pay for his work (cf. Prov 21:6), but Job awaited relief – alleviation of his disease – and hoped in vain for entire months (v. 3). During them he suffered continuously, even by night. Sleepless nights that brought no relief from disease (“nights of sorrow,” in the LXX – “νύκτες ὀδύνης” – “nights of pain” v. 3; “I toss restlessly until dawn” – v. 4), they made him think: “when will the evening pass” (Hebrew; “unidad areb,” rendered in the Synodal text with the phrase: “and the evening drags on” – v. 4, may mean: “the evening will pass”) and wait for the coming of day (“when shall I arise?” – v. 4) at the moment when he was only just lying down.
Job 7:5. My body is clothed with worms and dust; my skin cracks and festers. Job 7:6. My days run swifter than the shuttle and come to an end without hope. Job 7:7. Remember that my life is but a breath, and my eye will not return to see good. Job 7:8. The eye of him who sees me will not see me; your eyes are upon me, and I am no more. Job 7:9. A cloud dissolves and departs; so he who descends into the grave does not come up, Job 7:10. nor shall he return to his home, and his place shall know him no more. Job’s present condition is such that it deprives him of the ability to think of future happiness. And it is truly impossible. He is a living corpse covered with worms which breed in the body which has taken on the color of earth (“my body is clothed... with dust” – v. 5, more precisely – “with an earthen crust”). The decomposition of the body is a harbinger of death: days flashing with the speed of a weaver’s shuttle (v. 6, cf. Isa 38:12) arouse no other hope, Job will die, disappear for all who have known and seen him (v. 8, 10 cf. Job 20:9; Ps 38:14), descend into the grave from which there is no return for coming back to earth to its blessings.
Job 7:11. I will not restrain my lips; I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul. Job has no hope for an end to his sufferings, for a restoration of happiness, and therefore has no reason to cease his complaint, as Eliphaz advised (Job 5:17).
Job 7:12. Am I a sea or a sea monster, that you have set a guard over me? In contrast to the complaint of ch. III, his complaints are now directed against God, the cause of Job’s undeserved sufferings. He is not a harmful sea or river monster (“tannin”) and not the sea, whose destructive actions are limited by shores (Ps 103:7; Prov 8:29; Jer 5:22), that is, he is dangerous to no one. But then what reason is there to keep him under guard? Not to be freed from suffering for even a moment?
Job 7:13. When I think: my bed will comfort me, my couch will ease my sorrow, Job 7:14. you terrify me with dreams and frighten me with visions; Job 7:15. and my soul chooses suffocation, death rather than the preservation of my bones. They, contrary to expectations (v. 13), do not cease even at night. During sleep he is subject to nightmares – hallucinations so terrible and oppressive that he wishes the bouts of asphyxia accompanying his disease to end in strangling (v. 15).
Job 7:16. Life is loathsome to me. I do not wish to live forever. Leave me alone, for my days are a vapor. Life becomes a burden for Job under continuous suffering (cf. Job 10:1). And since his existence cannot continue indefinitely, one day he must die (“I do not wish to live forever”), then in view of approaching death (“my days are a vapor,” – “hebel” – breath, vapor) God ought to give him relief from his sufferings.
Job 7:17. What is man, that you esteem him so highly and turn your attention upon him, Job 7:18. that you visit him every morning and test him every moment? Job 7:19. How long will you not leave me, how long will you not depart from me, until I can swallow my own spittle? Job 7:20. If I have sinned, what have I done to you, O keeper of mankind! Why have you made me your target, so that I am a burden even to myself? Job 7:21. And why do you not forgive my sin and take away my iniquity? For now I shall lie in the dust; you will seek me, and I shall be no more. There are other grounds on the part of the Lord to ease Job’s torments even for the shortest time – for a single moment (“until I can swallow my own spittle?” – v. 19). Like every man, Job is a insignificant, weak being (“enosh”), upon which in view of the Lord’s greatness it is not worth paying attention (v. 17, 18 cf. Ps 8:5). By his sins, if only they exist, he does not cause God harm; so that He, the keeper of men, in the sense of avenger, has no grounds to see in Job his enemy, to make him the target of his arrows (v. 20). Finally, Job will soon die, and therefore why not out of compassion forgive sins – deliver from suffering and thereby give him the possibility to die peacefully (v. 21)?