A FRESH discourse of Job here begins, and it his final one, which naturally parts into the three chapters which follow, each presenting a distinct portion, and the whole a very complete summary of the case, as it now presented itself to the sufferer’s spirit. He takes a retrospective glance at his past life, when divine favor lavished on him every enjoyment that an upright soul could desire on earth, and this in the relief of the needy and distressed, quite as much as in the universal honor of those that knew him, Then in chapter 30 he contrasts his actual circumstances of degradation, at object of scorn and insult to the lowest, even of the young, and this without the smallest comfort within, yea, the bitterest dregs of his cup lying in the fact that he cried unheard to God who indeed with strong hand was putting him down, as surely as He had once blessed and exalted him; so that he could only surrender himself to hopeless sorrow as regards this life. Yet does he, in chapter 31, with the utmost detail and solemnity repudiate all consciousness of secret iniquity, whether wandering in lust, or in any stain on domestic propriety, either in public or in religious life, so as not only to imprecate judgments if there was hidden evil, but to speak with unbecoming boldness in the presence of God, who however well knew that His poor servant was far more distant from hypocrisy than his friends that suspected him. Thus runs the first of these sections.
And Job continued to utter his parable and said,
Who giveth me like the months of old,
Like the days when God guarded me,
When His lamp, it shone over my head—
By His light I walked [through] darkness;
As I was in the days of the harvest
When God’s familiarity [was] over my tent;
While the Almighty [was] still with me,
My young ones around me;
When I washed my steps in cream,
And the rock alongside me [poured] rivers of oil;
When I went out to the gate by the city,
In the open place I established my seat;
Youths saw me and hid themselves
And the aged rose—stood up,
Princes refrained from words
And laid the hand on their mouth,
The voice of nobles was arrested,
And their tongue cleaved to their palate.
For the ear heard and praised me,
And an eye saw and testified to me.
For I delivered the poor that cried,
And the fatherless that had no helper.
The blessing of the perishing came on me,
And the heart of the widow I made sing.
Righteousness I put on, and it put me on,
As a robe and a diadem mine equity.
I was eyes to the blind, and feet [was] I to the lame,
A father to the needy, and the cause I knew not I searched.
And I broke the jaw of the wicked,
And flung the prey out of his teeth.
And I said, With my nest I shall expire,
And as sand shall multiply my days.
My root is open toward the waters,
And dew lodgeth all night on my branches.
Mine honour remaineth fresh with me,
And my bow is renewed in my hand.
They hearken to me, they wait, and are silent for my counsel.
After my word they repeat not,
And my discourse droppeth on them,
And they wait for me as rain,
And their mouth they open wide [as] for the latter rain.
And this sense would fall in with the context excellently. But the Jewish Rabbinical commentators, following the Talmud, and followed by Ewald, Rosenmüller, Dillmann, Delitzsch, &c., regard it as” the phoenix.” Bochart (Hieroz. 819) reminds us that so some of the fathers took the φοῖνιξ of Psalm 92:13, as a testimony to resurrection. It is needless to argue against the reference to this fabulous bird, which suits the context as badly as it does in itself. For the common view see Psalm 139., Habakkuk 1:9 where the sea or shore is not added; and here it was the less necessary, as the sand of the desert is no less countless so in Targ., Syr., Arm.; so Luther, Trent. and Jun.; so even Gesenius, Umbreit, and Renan, not to speak of orthodox scholars in general.
I laugh on them when they have no confidence,
And the light of my face they cannot cast down.
I choose their way for them, and sit head,
And dwelt as king in the troop, the comforter of mourners.
Some of the finest compositions of genius in ancient and in modern times embody a similar retrospect, out of the depths of present misery, on past prosperity and honor; but, touching as they may be, they fall as far short of that which has just come before us, as the character of an Oedipus or a Lear is inferior to this holy man of old. None need travel out of scripture—I do not say for truth, found nowhere else, but—for the most admirable and affecting picture of reverses, borne patiently, though not perfectly, till He came whose alone it was to sum up all, divine and human, unalloyed and unconfounded in His own person. Immeasurably far below Him was Job, yet as far above the favorite sufferers of dramatists and other poets as faith is beyond unbelief. Nor is it only on the human side that we see the gulf that separates the inspired book from the best writings of men, but yet more on the divine, where no vengeful being looms behind to take a spiteful pleasure in blighting at length man’s earthly happiness. There is indeed such a being, yet a creature of vast but limited capacity of malicious power, whose defeat is here revealed for our comfort; and yet more fully the delight of God in the final joy and blessing of those who honour Him with subjection of heart and word and ways, and this even on earth before men, as it will be on the largest scale when the Lord appears in His kingdom.
Job then sets before us a beautiful account of his previous life, when God shone on the days and months as they glided by, His lamp above his head, His light enabling him to walk through darkness. Especially does he recall the days of his harvest, of maturity rather than youth, when he enjoyed the familiar presence and counsel of Eloah over his tent life, and beneath the shadow of Shaddai, his young surrounding him, and the proverbial blessings of earth beyond measure abundant and accessible. Nor did honor fail outside his own domains; for if he went from [or to] the gate up to the city, and took his seat in the broad-way or market, youths hid themselves in awe and the grey-headed rose standing up till he seated himself.
Leading men or rulers abstained from speech and imposed on themselves respectful silence; those nobles or men of mark whose voices were wont to be heard, were hushed with tongue cleaving to the palate; so great the reverence that greeted Job’s presence in their midst, with an influence all the more because it was unofficial.
Other testimony too did not fail: what distress had ever sought his help in vain? What tale of woe been slighted? What sight of wretchedness forgotten?
And those relieved did not see or hear their benefactor unmoved, if his left hand knew not what his right had done. God does not let die the memory of unselfish goodness; and the poor can render as true a witness to lovingkindness, as the rich to a greatness beyond their own. And was not Job the deliverer of the poor, the orphan, the perishing, and the widow? Indeed this field of his beneficent, ay and righteous, activity was large. As he put on justice, so did it fit Job, and judgment became him like mantle and turban. Eyes was he to him that had none, and feet to the lame, and to the needy a father, refusing no pains to search out a cause unknown; nor was his just zeal less to be dreaded by evil-doers—so would he break the tusks of bad men, and pluck the prey from their teeth.
Assuredly, if ever mortal was entitled to look for a tranquil future from God and before men, it was the man of UZ. And he did say, “In [or with] my nest shall I expire and like the sand [or palm], multiply my days, my root open to the water, and the dew all night-on my branch, my glory remaining with me, and my bow renewed in my hand.” For how could he ignore the weight attached to his words, the waiting and silence for it; the absence of rejoinder; the welcome reception of it, as thirsty land waits for rain, with open mouth as for the latter rain? His laugh was suited to dispel distrust, instead of their despondency darkening the light of his countenance. In short Job was their cherished counsellor in difficulty, sat as chief, dwelt like a king in the army or troop, and really was one that comforted the mourners. Such without a, break had been his life of yore.