Thereby good shall come unto thee.
Receive, I pray thee, instruction from His mouth,
And lay up His words in thy heart.
If thou return to Shaddai, thou shalt be built up;
If thou put iniquity far from thy tents:
And lay thy treasure in the dust,
And among the stones of the streams the gold of Ophir;
Then shall Shaddai be thy treasure
And silver in plenty unto thee._"
At last there seems to be a strain of spirituality. "Acquaint now
thyself with God and be at peace." Reconciliation by faith and
obedience is the theme. Eliphaz is ignorant of much; yet the greatness
and majesty of God, the supreme power which must be propitiated occupy
his thoughts, and he does what he can to lead his friend out of the
storm into a harbour of safety. Though even in this strophe there
mingles a taint of sinister reflection, it is yet far in advance of
anything Job has received in the way of consolation. Admirable in
itself is the picture of the restoration of a reconciled life from
which unrighteousness is put far away. He seems indeed to have learned
something at last from Job. Now he speaks of one who in his desire for
the favour and friendship of the Most High sacrifices earthly
treasure, flings away silver and gold as worthless. No doubt it is
ill-gotten wealth to which he refers, treasure that has a curse upon
it. Nevertheless one is happy to find him separating so clearly
between earthly riches and heavenly treasure, advising the sacrifice
of the lower for what is infinitely higher. There is even yet hope of
Eliphaz, that he may come to have a spiritual vision of the favour and
friendship of the Almighty. In all he says here by way of promise
there is not a word of renewed temporal prosperity. Returning to
Shaddai in obedience Job will pray and have his prayer answered. Vows
he has made in the time of trouble shall be redeemed, for the desired
aid shall come. Beyond this there shall be, in the daily life, a
strength, decision, and freedom previously unknown. "_Thou shalt
decree a thing, and it shall be established unto thee._" The man who
is at length in the right way of life, with God for his ally, shall
form his plans and be able to carry them out.
"_When they cast down, thou shalt say, Uplifting!
And the humble person He shall save.
He will deliver the man not innocent;
Yea he shall be delivered through the cleanness of thine hands._"
True, in the future experience of Job there may be disappointment and
trouble. Eliphaz cannot but see that the ill-will of the rabble may
continue long, and perhaps he is doubtful of the temper of his own
friends. But God will help His servant who returns to humble
obedience. And having been himself tried Job will intercede for those
in distress, perhaps on account of their sin, and his intercession
will prevail with God.
Put aside the thought that all this is said to Job, and it is surely a
counsel of wisdom. To the proud and self-righteous it shows the way
of renewal. Away with the treasures, the lust of the eyes, the pride
of life, that keep the soul from its salvation. Let the Divine love be
precious to thee and the Divine statutes thy joy. Power to deal with
life, to overcome difficulties, to serve thy generation shall then be
thine. Standing securely in God's grace thou shalt help the weary and
heavy laden. Yet Eliphaz cannot give the secret of spiritual peace. He
does not really know the trouble at the heart of human life. We need
for our Guide One who has borne the burden of a sorrow which had
nothing to do with the loss of worldly treasure but with the unrest
perpetually gnawing at the heart of humanity, who "bore our sin in His
own body unto the tree" and led captivity captive. What the old world
could not know is made clear to eyes that have seen the cross against
the falling night and a risen Christ in the fresh Easter morning.
FOOTNOTE:
[5] Jonathan Edwards, "Dissertation concerning the End for which God
created the World," Section IV.
XX.
_WHERE IS ELOAH?_
JOB SPEAKS. CHAPS. xxiii., xxiv.
The obscure couplet with which Job begins appears to involve some
reference to his whole condition alike of body and mind.
"_Again, to-day, my plaint, my rebellion!
The hand upon me is heavier than my groanings._"
I must speak of my trouble and you will count it rebellion. Yet, if I
moan and sigh, my pain and weariness are more than excuse. The crisis
of faith is with him, a protracted misery, and hope hangs trembling in
the balance. The false accusations of Eliphaz are in his mind; but
they provoke only a feeling of weary discontent. What men say does not
trouble him much. He is troubled because of that which God refuses to
do or say. Many indeed are the afflictions of the righteous. But every
case like his own obscures the providence of God. Job does not
entirely deny the contention of his friends that unless suffering
comes as a punishment of sin there is no reason for it. Hence, even
though he maintains with strong conviction that the good are often
poor and afflicted while the wicked prosper, yet he does not thereby
clear up the matter. He must admit to himself that he is condemned by
the events of life. And against the testimony of outward circumstance
he makes appeal in the audience chamber of the King.
Has the Most High forgotten to be righteous for a time? When the
generous and true are brought into sore straits, is the great Friend
of truth neglecting His task as Governor of the world? That would
indeed plunge life into profound darkness. And it seems to be even so.
Job seeks deliverance from this mystery which has emerged in his own
experience. He would lay his cause before Him who alone can explain.
"_Oh that I knew where I might find Him,
That I might come even to His seat!
I would order my cause before Him,
And fill my mouth with arguments.
I would know the words which He would answer me,
And understand what He would say unto me._"
Present to Job's mind here is the thought that he is under
condemnation, and along with this the conviction that his trial is not
over. It is natural that his mind should hover between these ideas,
holding strongly to the hope that judgment, if already passed, will be
revised when the facts are fully known.
Now this course of thought is altogether in the darkness. But what are
the principles unknown to Job, through ignorance of which he has to
languish in doubt? Partly, as we long ago saw, the explanation lies in
the use of trial and affliction as the means of deepening spiritual
life. They give gravity and therewith the possibility of power to our
existence. Even yet Job has not realised that one always kept in the
primrose path, untouched by the keen air of "misfortune," although he
had, to begin, a pious disposition and a blameless record, would be
worth little in the end to God or to mankind. And the necessity for
the discipline of affliction and disappointment, even as it explains
the smaller troubles, explains also the greatest. Let ill be heaped on
ill, disaster on disaster, disease on bereavement, misery on sorrow,
while stage by stage the life goes down into deeper circles of gloom
and pain, it may acquire, it will acquire, if faith and faithfulness
towards God remain, massiveness, strength and dignity for the highest
spiritual service.
But there is another principle, not yet considered, which enters into
the problem and still more lightens up the valley of experience which to
Job appeared so dark. The poem touches the fringe of this principle
again and again, but never states it. The author saw that men were born
to trouble. He made Job suffer more because he had his integrity to
maintain than if he had been guilty of transgressions by acknowledging
which he might have pacified his friends. The burden lay heavily upon
Job because he was a conscientious man, a true man, and could not accept
any make-believe in religion. But just where another step would have
carried him into the light of blessed acquiescence in the will of God,
the power failed, he could not advance. Perhaps the genuineness and
simplicity of his character would have been impaired if he had thought
of it, and we like him better because he did not. The truth, however, is
that Job was suffering for others, that he was, by the grace of God, a
martyr, and so far forth in the spirit and position of that suffering
Servant of Jehovah of whom we read in the prophecies of Isaiah.
The righteous sufferers, the martyrs, what are they? Always the
vanguard of humanity. Where they go and the prints of their bleeding
feet are left, there is the way of improvement, of civilisation, of
religion. The most successful man, preacher or journalist or
statesman, is popularly supposed to be leading the world in the right
path. Where the crowd goes shouting after him, is that not the way of
advance? Do not believe it. Look for a teacher, a journalist, a
statesman who is not so successful as he might be, because he will, at
all hazards, be true. The Christian world does not yet know the best
in life, thought and morality for the best. He who sacrifices
position and esteem to righteousness, he who will not bow down to the
great idol at the sound of sackbut and psaltery, observe where that
man is going, try to understand what he has in his mind. Those who
under defeat or neglect remain steadfast in faith have the secrets we
need to know. To the ranks even of the afflicted and broken the author
of Job turned for an example of witness-bearing to high ideas and the
faith in God which brings salvation. But he wrought in the shadow, and
his hero is unconscious of his high calling. Had Job seen the
principles of Divine providence which made him a helper of human
faith, we should not now hear him cry for an opportunity of pleading
his cause before God.
"_Would He contend with me in His mighty power?
Nay, but He would give heed to me.
Then an upright man would reason with Him;
So should I get free for ever from my Judge._"
It is in a sense startling to hear this confident expectation of
acquittal at the bar of God. The common notion is that the only part
possible to man in his natural state is to fear the judgment to come
and dread the hour that shall bring him to the Divine tribunal. From
the ordinary point of view the language of Job here is dangerous, if
not profane. He longs to meet the Judge; he believes that he could so
state his case that the Judge would listen and be convinced. The
Almighty would not contend with him any longer as his powerful
antagonist, but would pronounce him innocent and set him at liberty
for ever. Can mortal man vindicate himself before the bar of the Most
High? Is not every one condemned by the law of nature and of
conscience, much more by Him who knoweth all things? And yet this man
who believes he would be acquitted by the great King has already been
declared "perfect and upright, one that feareth God and escheweth
evil." Take the declaration of the Almighty Himself in the opening
scenes of the book, and Job is found what he claims to be. Under the
influence of that Divine grace which the sincere and upright may enjoy
he has been a faithful servant and has earned the approbation of his
Judge. It is by faith he is made righteous. Religion and love of the
Divine law have been his guides; he has followed them; and what one
has done may not others do? Our book is concerned not so much with the
corruption of human nature, as with the vindication of the grace of
God given to human nature. Corrupt and vile as humanity often is,
imperfect and spiritually ignorant as it always is, the writer of this
book is not engaged with that view. He directs attention to the
virtuous and honourable elements and shows God's new creation in which
He may take delight.
We shall indeed find that after the Almighty has spoken out of the
storm, Job says, "I repudiate my words and repent in dust and ashes."
So he appears to come at last to the confession which, from one point
of view, he ought to have made at the first. But those words of
penitence imply no acknowledgment of iniquity after all. They are
confession of ignorant judgment. Job admits with sorrow that he has
ventured too far in his attempt to understand the ways of the
Almighty, that he has spoken without knowledge of the universal
providence he had vainly sought to fathom.
The author's intention plainly is to justify Job in his desire for the
opportunity of pleading his cause, that is, to justify the claim of
the human reason to comprehend. It is not an offence to him that much
of the Divine working is profoundly difficult to interpret. He
acknowledges in humility that God is greater than man, that there are
secrets with the Almighty which the human mind cannot penetrate. But
so far as suffering and sorrow are appointed to a man and enter into
his life, he is considered to have the right of inquiry regarding
them, an inherent claim on God to explain them. This may be held the
error of the author which he himself has to confess when he comes to
the Divine interlocution. There he seems to allow the majesty of the
Omnipotent to silence the questions of human reason. But this is
really a confession that his own knowledge does not suffice, that he
shares the ignorance of Job as well as his cry for light. The universe
is vaster than he or any of the Old Testament age could even imagine.
The destinies of man form part of a Divine order extending through the
immeasurable spaces and the developments of eternal ages.
* * * * *
Once more Job perceives or seems to perceive that access to the
presence of the Judge is denied. The sense of condemnation shuts him
in like prison walls and he finds no way to the audience chamber. The
bright sun moves calmly from east to west; the gleaming stars, the
cold moon in their turn glide silently over the vault of heaven. Is
not God on high? Yet man sees no form, hears no sound.
"Speak to Him thou, for He hears, and spirit with spirit can meet;
Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet."
But Job is not able to conceive a spiritual presence without shape or
voice.
"_Behold, I go forward, but He is not there;
And backward, but I cannot perceive Him:
On the left hand where He doth work, but I behold Him not:
He hideth Himself on the right hand that I cannot see Him._"
Nature, thou hast taught this man by thy light and thy darkness, thy
glorious sun and thy storms, the clear-shining after rain, the sprouting
corn and the clusters of the vine, by the power of man's will and the
daring love and justice of man's heart. In all thou hast been a
revealer. But thou hidest whom thou dost reveal. To cover in thought the
multiplicity of thy energies in earth and sky and sea, in fowl and brute
and man, in storm and sunshine, in reason, in imagination, in will and
love and hope;--to attach these one by one to the idea of a Being
almighty, infinite, eternal, and so to _conceive_ this God of the
universe--it is, we may say, a superhuman task. Job breaks down in the
effort to realise the great God. I look behind me, into the past. There
are the footprints of Eloah when He passed by. In the silence an echo of
His step may be heard; but God is not there. On the right hand, away
beyond the hills that shut in the horizon, on the left hand where the
way leads to Damascus and the distant north--not there can I see His
form; nor out yonder where day breaks in the east. And when I travel
forward in imagination, I who said that my Redeemer shall stand upon the
earth, when I strive to conceive His form, still, in utter human
incapacity, I fail. "Verily, Thou art a God that hidest Thyself."
And yet, Job's conviction of his own uprightness, is it not God's
witness to his spirit? Can he not be content with that? To have such a
testimony is to have the very verdict he desires. Well does Boethius,
a writer of the old world though he belonged to the Christian age,
press beyond Job where he writes: "He is always Almighty, because He
always wills good and never any evil. He is always equally gracious.
By His Divine power He is everywhere present. The Eternal and Almighty
always sits on the throne of His power. Thence He is able to see all,
and renders to every one with justice, according to his works.
Therefore it is not in vain that we have hope in God; for He changes
not as we do. But pray ye to Him humbly, for He is very bountiful and
very merciful. Hate and fly from evil as ye best may. Love virtues and
follow them. Ye have great need that ye always do well, for ye always
in the presence of the Eternal and Almighty God do all that ye do. He
beholds it all, and He will recompense it all."[6]
Amiel, on the other hand, would fain apply to Job a reflection which
has occurred to himself in one of the moods that come to a man
disappointed, impatient of his own limitations. In his journal, under
date January 29th, 1866, he writes: "It is but our secret self-love
which is set upon this favour from on high; such may be our desire,
but such is not the will of God. We are to be exercised, humbled,
tried and tormented to the end. It is our patience which is the
touchstone of our virtue. To bear with life even when illusion and
hope are gone; to accept this position of perpetual war, while at the
same time loving only peace; to stay patiently in the world, even when
it repels us as a place of low company and seems to us a mere arena of
bad passions; to remain faithful to one's own faith without breaking
with the followers of false gods; to make no attempt to escape from
the human hospital, long-suffering and patient as Job upon his
dunghill;--this is duty."[7] An evil mood prompts Amiel to write thus.
A thousand times rather would one hear him crying like Job on the
great Judge and Redeemer and complaining that the Goël hides Himself.
It is not in bare self-love or self-pity Job seeks acquittal at the
bar of God; but in the defence of conscience, the spiritual treasure
of mankind and our very life. No doubt his own personal justification
bulks largely with Job, for he has strong individuality. He will not
be overborne. He stands at bay against his three friends and the
unseen adversary. But he loves integrity, the virtue, first; and for
himself he cares as the representative of that which the Spirit of God
gives to faithful men. He may cry, therefore, he may defend himself,
he may complain; and God will not cast him off.
"_For He knoweth the way that I take;
If He tried me, I should come forth as gold.
My foot hath held fast to His steps,
His way have I kept, and not turned aside.
I have not gone back from the commandments of His lips;
I have treasured the words of His mouth more than my needful
food._"
Bravely, not in mere vaunt he speaks, and it is good to hear him still
able to make such a claim. Why do we not also hold fast to the garment
of our Divine Friend? Why do we not realise and exhibit the resolute
godliness that anticipates judgment: "If He tried me, I should come
forth as gold"? The psalmists of Israel stood thus on their faith; and
not in vain, surely, has Christ called us to be like our Father who is
in heaven.
* * * * *
But again from brave affirmation Job falls back exhausted.
"Oh thou Hereafter! on whose shore I stand--
Waiting each toppling moment to engulf me,
What am I? Say thou Present! say thou Past
Ye three wise children of Eternity!--
A life?--A death?--and an immortal?--All?
Is this the threefold mystery of man?
The lower, darker Trinity of earth?
It is vain to ask. Nought answers me--not God.
The air grows thick and dark. The sky comes down.
The sun draws round him streaky clouds--like God
Gleaning up wrath. Hope hath leapt off my heart,
Like a false sibyl, fear-smote, from her seat,
And overturned it."[8]
So, as Bailey makes his Festus speak, might Job have spoken here. For
now it seems to him that to call on God is fruitless. Eloah is of one
mind. His will is steadfast, immovable. Death is in the cup and death
will come. On this God has determined. Nor is it in Job's case alone so
sore a doom is performed by the Almighty. Many such things are with Him.
The waves of trouble roll up from the deep dark sea and go over the head
of the sufferer. He lies faint and desolate once more. The light fades,
and with a deep sigh because he ever came to life he shuts his lips.
Natural religion ends always with a sigh. The sense of God found in
the order of the universe, the dim vision of God which comes in
conscience, moral life and duty, in fear and hope and love, in the
longing for justice and truth--these avail much; but they leave us at
the end desiring something they cannot give. The Unknown God whom men
ignorantly worshipped had to be revealed by the life and truth and
power of the Man Christ Jesus. Not without this revelation, which is
above and beyond nature, can our eager quest end in satisfying
knowledge. In Christ alone the righteousness that justifies, the love
that compassionates, the wisdom that enlightens are brought into the
range of our experience and communicated through reason to faith.
* * * * *
In chap. xxiv. there is a development of the reasoning contained in
Job's reply to Zophar in the second colloquy, and there is also a
closer examination of the nature and results of evil-doing than has
yet been attempted. In the course of his acute and careful
discrimination Job allows something to his friends' side of the
argument, but all the more emphasises the series of vivid touches by
which the prosperous tyrant is represented. He modifies to some extent
his opinion previously expressed that all goes well with the wicked.
He finds that certain classes of miscreants do come to confusion, and
he separates these from the others, at the same time separating
himself beyond question from the oppressor on this side and the
murderer and adulterer on that. Accepting the limits of discussion
chosen by the friends he exhausts the matter between himself and them.
By the distinctions now made and the choice offered, Job arrests
personal accusation, and of that we hear no more.
Continuing the idea of a Divine assize which has governed his thought
throughout this reply, Job asks why it should not be held openly from
time to time in the world's history.
"_Why are times not set by the Almighty?
And why do not they who know Him see His days?_"
Emerson says the world is full of judgment-days; Job thinks it is not,
but ought to be. Passing from his own desire to have access to the bar
of God and plead there, he now thinks of an open court, a public
vindication of God's rule. The Great Assize is never proclaimed. Ages go
by; the Righteous One never appears. All things continue as they were
from the beginning of the creation. Men struggling, sinning, suffering,
doubt or deny the existence of a moral Ruler. They ask, Who ever saw
this God? If He exists, He is so separate from the world by His own
choice that there is no need to consider Him. In pride or in sorrow men
raise the question. But _no God_ means no justice, no truth, no
penetration of the real by the ideal; and thought cannot rest there.
With great vigour and large knowledge of the world the writer makes
Job point out the facts of human violence and crime, of human
condonation and punishment. Look at the oppressors and those who
cringe under them, the despots never brought to justice, but on the
contrary growing in power through the fear and misery of their serfs.
Already we have seen how perilous it is to speak falsely for God. Now
we see, on the other hand, that whoever speaks truly of the facts of
human experience prepares the way for a true knowledge of God. Those
who have been looking in vain for indications of Divine justice and
grace are to learn that not in deliverance from the poverty and
trouble of this world but in some other way they must realise God's
redemption. The writer of the book is seeking after that kingdom which
is not meat and drink nor long life and happiness, but righteousness
and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost.
Observe first, says Job, the base and cruel men who remove landmarks
and claim as their own a neighbour's heritage, who drive into their
pastures flocks that are not theirs, who even take away the one ass of
the fatherless and the one ox the widow has for ploughing her scanty
fields, who thus with a high hand overbear all the defenceless people
within their reach. Zophar had charged Job with similar crimes, and no
direct reply was given to the accusation. Now, speaking strongly of
the iniquity of such deeds, Job makes his accusers feel their
injustice towards him. There are men who do such things. I have seen
them, wondered at them, been amazed that they were not struck down by
the hand of God. My distress is that I cannot understand how to
reconcile their immunity from punishment with my faith in Him whom I
have served and trusted as my Friend.