glorify his Creator. For the time when this book was written the truth
lay here; and here it lies even for us, and will lie for those who
come after us. In these days it is often forgotten. Science questions,
philosophy probes into the reasons of what has been and is, men lose
themselves in labyrinths at the far extremities of which they hope to
find something which shall make life inexpressibly great or strong or
sweet. And even theology and criticism of the Bible occasionally fall
into the same error of fancying that to inquire and know are the main
things, that although inquiry and knowledge do not at every stage aid
the service of the Most High they may promote life. The colloquies and
controversies over, Job and his friends are recalled to their real
duty, which is to recognise the eternal majesty and grace of the
Unseen God, to trust Him and do His will. And our experiments and
questions over in every department of knowledge, to this we ought to
come. Nay, every step in our quest of knowledge should be taken with
the desire to find God more gloriously wise and faithful, that our
obedience may be more zealous, our worship more profound. There are
only two states of thought or dominant methods possible when we enter
on the study of the facts of nature and providence or any research
that allures our reason. We must go forward either in the faith of God
or with the desire to establish ourselves in knowledge, comfort and
life apart from God. If the second way is chosen, light is turned into
darkness, all discoveries prove mere apples of Sodom, and the end is
vanity. But on the other line, with life which is good to have, with
the consciousness of ability to think and will and act, faith should
begin, faith in life and the Maker of life; and if every study is
pursued in resolute faith, man refusing to give existence itself the
lie, the mind seeking and finding new and larger reasons for trust and
service of the Creator, the way will be that of salvation. The faults
and errors of one who follows this way will not enter into his soul to
abide there and darken it. They will be confessed and forgiven. Such
is the philosophy of the Book of Job, and the final vindication of His
servant by the Almighty.
XXVIII.
_THE RECONCILIATION._
CHAPS. xxxviii. i-xlii. 6.
The main argument of the address ascribed to the Almighty is contained
in chaps. xxxviii. and xxxix., and in the opening verses of chap.
xlii. Job makes submission and owns his fault in doubting the
faithfulness of Divine providence. The intervening passage containing
descriptions of the great animals of the Nile is scarcely in the same
high strain of poetic art or on same high level of cogent reasoning.
It seems rather of a hyperbolical kind, suggesting failure from the
clear aim and inspiration of the previous portion.
The voice proceeding from the storm-cloud, in which the Almighty veils
Himself and yet makes His presence and majesty felt, begins with a
question of reproach and a demand that the intellect of Job shall be
roused to its full vigour in order to apprehend the ensuing argument.
The closing words of Job had shown misconception of his position
before God. He spoke of presenting a claim to Eloah and setting forth
his integrity so that his plea would be unanswerable. Circumstances
had brought upon him a stain from which he had a right to be cleared,
and, implying this, he challenged the Divine government of the world
as wanting in due exhibition of righteousness. This being so, Job's
rescue from doubt must begin with a conviction of error. Therefore the
Almighty says:--
"_Who is this darkening counsel
By words without knowledge?
Gird up now thy loins like a man;
For I will demand of thee and answer thou Me._"
The aim of the author throughout the speech from the storm is to
provide a way of reconciliation between man in affliction and
perplexity and the providence of God that bewilders and threatens to
crush him. To effect this something more than a demonstration of the
infinite power and wisdom of God is needed. Zophar affirming the glory
of the Almighty to be higher than heaven, deeper than Sheol, longer
than the earth, broader than the sea, basing on this a claim that God
is unchangeably just, supplies no principle of reconciliation. In like
manner Bildad, requiring the abasement of man as sinful and
despicable in presence of the Most High with whom are dominion and
fear, shows no way of hope and life. But the series of questions now
addressed to Job forms an argument in a higher strain, as cogent as
could be reared on the basis of that manifestation of God which the
natural world supplies. The man is called to recognise not illimitable
power only, the eternal supremacy of the Unseen King, but also other
qualities of the Divine rule. Doubt of providence is rebuked by a wide
induction from the phenomena of the heavens and of life upon the
earth, everywhere disclosing law and care co-operant to an end.
First Job is asked to think of the creation of the world or visible
universe. It is a building firmly set on deep-laid foundations. As if by
line and measure it was brought into symmetrical form according to the
archetypal plan; and when the corner-stone was laid as of a new palace
in the great dominion of God there was joy in heaven. The angels of the
morning broke into song, the sons of the Elohim, high in the ethereal
dwellings among the fountains of light and life, shouted for joy. In
poetic vision the writer beholds that work of God and those rejoicing
companies; but to himself, as to Job, the question comes--What knows man
of the marvellous creative effort which he sees in imagination? It is
beyond human range. The plan and the method are equally
incomprehensible. Of this let Job be assured--that the work was not done
in vain. Not for the creation of a world the history of which was to
pass into confusion would the morning stars have sung together. He who
beheld all that He had made and declared it very good would not suffer
triumphant evil to confound the promise and purpose of His toil.
Next there is the great ocean flood, once confined as in the womb of
primæval chaos, which came forth in living power, a giant from its
birth. What can Job tell, what can any man tell of that wonderful
evolution, when, swathed in rolling clouds and thick darkness, with
vast energy the flood of waters rushed tumultuously to its appointed
place? There is a law of use and power for the ocean, a limit also
beyond which it cannot pass. Does man know how that is?--must he not
acknowledge the wise will and benignant care of Him who holds in check
the stormy devastating sea?
And who has control of the light? The morning dawns not by the will of
man. It takes hold of the margin of the earth over which the wicked
have been ranging, and as one shakes out the dust from a sheet, it
shakes them forth visible and ashamed. Under it the earth is changed,
every object made clear and sharp as figures on clay stamped with a
seal. The forests, fields, and rivers are seen like the embroidered or
woven designs of a garment. What is this light? Who sends it on the
mission of moral discipline? Is not the great God who commands the
dayspring to be trusted even in the darkness? Beneath the surface of
earth is the grave and the dwelling-place of the nether gloom. Does
Job know, does any man know, what lies beyond the gates of death? Can
any tell where the darkness has its central seat? One there is whose
is the night as well as the morning. The mysteries of futurity, the
arcana of nature lie open to the Eternal alone.
Atmospheric phenomena, already often described, reveal variously the
unsearchable wisdom and thoughtful rule of the Most High. The force
that resides in the hail, the rains that fall on the wilderness where
no man is, satisfying the waste and desolate ground and causing the
tender grass to spring up, these imply a breadth of gracious purpose
that extends beyond the range of human life. Whose is the fatherhood
of the rain, the ice, the hoar-frost of heaven? Man is subject to the
changes these represent; he cannot control them. And far higher are
the gleaming constellations that are set in the forehead of night.
Have the hands of man gathered the Pleiades and strung them like
burning gems on a chain of fire? Can the power of man unloose Orion
and let the stars of that magnificent constellation wander through
the sky? The Mazzaroth or Zodiacal signs that mark the watches of the
advancing year, the Bear and the stars of her train--who leads them
forth? The laws of heaven, too, those ordinances regulating the
changes of temperature and the seasons, does man appoint them? Is it
he who brings the time when thunderstorms break up the drought and
open the bottles of heaven, or the time of heat "when the dust gathers
into a mass, and the clods cleave fast together"? Without this
alternation of drought and moisture recurring by law from year to year
the labour of man would be in vain. Is not He who governs the changing
seasons to be trusted by the race that profits most of His care?
At verse 39 attention is turned from inanimate nature to the living
creatures for which God provides. With marvellous poetic skill they
are painted in their need and strength, in the urgency of their
instincts, timid or tameless or cruel. The Creator is seen rejoicing
in them as His handiwork, and man is held bound to exult in their life
and see in the provision made for its fulfilment a guarantee of all
that his own bodily nature and spiritual being may require. Notable
especially to us is the close relation between this portion and
certain sayings of our Lord in which the same argument brings the same
conclusion. "Two passages of God's speaking," says Mr. Ruskin, "one in
the Old and one in the New Testament, possess, it seems to me, a
different character from any of the rest, having been uttered, the one
to effect the last necessary change in the mind of a man whose piety
was in other respects perfect; and the other as the first statement to
all men of the principles of Christianity by Christ Himself--I mean
the 38th to 41st chapters of the Book of Job and the Sermon on the
Mount. Now the first of these passages is from beginning to end
nothing else than a direction of the mind which was to be perfected,
to humble observance of the works of God in nature. And the other
consists only in the inculcation of three things: 1st, right conduct;
2nd, looking for eternal life; 3rd, trusting God through watchfulness
of His dealings with His creation."[10] The last point is that which
brings into closest parallelism the doctrine of Christ and that of the
author of Job, and the resemblance is not accidental, but of such a
nature as to show that both saw the underlying truth in the same way
from the same point of spiritual and human interest.
"_Wilt thou hunt the prey for the lioness?
Or satisfy the appetite of the young lions.
When they couch in their dens
And abide in the covert to lie in wait?
Who provideth for the raven his food,
When his young ones cry unto God
And wander for lack of meat?_"
Thus man is called to recognise the care of God for creatures strong
and weak, and to assure himself that his life will not be forgotten.
And in His Sermon on the Mount our Lord says, "Behold the birds of the
heaven, that they sow not, neither do they reap nor gather into barns;
and your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are not ye of much more value
than they?" The parallel passage in the Gospel of Luke approaches
still more closely the language in Job--"Consider the ravens that they
sow not neither reap."
The wild goats or goats of the rock and their young that soon become
independent of the mothers' care; the wild asses that make their
dwelling-place in the salt land and scorn the tumult of the city; the
wild ox that cannot be tamed to go in the furrow or bring home the
sheaves in harvest; the ostrich that "leaveth her eggs on the earth
and warmeth them in the dust"; the horse in his might, his neck
clothed with the quivering mane, mocking at fear, smelling the battle
afar off; the hawk, that soars into the blue sky; the eagle that makes
her nest on the rock,--all these, graphically described, speak to Job
of the innumerable forms of life, simple, daring, strong and savage,
that are sustained by the power of the Creator. To think of them is to
learn that, as one among the dependants of God, man has his part in
the system of things, his assurance that the needs God has ordained
will be met. The passage is poetically among the finest in Hebrew
literature, and it is more. In its place, with the limit the writer
has set for himself, it is most apt as a basis of reconciliation and a
new starting-point in thought for all like Job who doubt the Divine
faithfulness. Why should man, because he can think of the providence
of God, be alone suspicious of the justice and wisdom on which all
creatures rely? Is not his power of thought given to him that he may
pass beyond the animals and praise the Divine Provider on their behalf
and his own? Man needs more than the raven, the lion, the mountain
goat, and the eagle. He has higher instincts and cravings. Daily food
for the body will not suffice him, nor the liberty of the wilderness.
He would not be satisfied if, like the hawk and eagle, he could soar
above the hills. His desires for righteousness, for truth, for fulness
of that spiritual life by which he is allied to God Himself, are his
distinction. So, then, He who has created the soul will bring it to
perfectness. Where or how its longings shall be fulfilled may not be
for man to know. But he can trust God. That is his privilege when
knowledge fails. Let him lay aside all vain thoughts and ignorant
doubts. Let him say: God is inconceivably great, unsearchably wise,
infinitely just and true; I am in His hands, and all is well.
The reasoning is from the less to the greater, and is therefore in
this case conclusive. The lower animals exercise their instincts and
find what is suited to their needs. And shall it not be so with man?
Shall he, able to discern the signs of an all-embracing plan, not
confess and trust the sublime justice it reveals? The slightness of
human power is certainly contrasted with the omnipotence of God, and
the ignorance of man with the omniscience of God; but always the
Divine faithfulness, glowing behind, shines through the veil of
nature, and it is this Job is called to recognise. Has he almost
doubted everything, because from his own life outward to the verge of
human existence wrong and falsehood seemed to reign? But how, then,
could the countless creatures depend upon God for the satisfaction of
their desires and the fulfilment of their varied life? Order in nature
means order in the scheme of the world as it affects humanity. And
order in the providence which controls human affairs must have for
principle fairness, justice, so that every deed shall have due reward.
Such is the Divine law perceived by our inspired author "through the
things that are made." The view of nature is still different from the
scientific, but there is certainly an approach to that reading of the
universe praised by M. Renan as peculiarly Hellenic, which "saw the
Divine in what is harmonious and evident." Not here at least does the
taunt apply that, from the point of view of the Hebrew, "ignorance is
a cult and curiosity a wicked attempt to explain," that "even in the
presence of a mystery which assails and ruins him, man attributes in a
special manner the character of grandeur to that which is
inexplicable," that "all phenomena whose cause is hidden, all beings
whose end cannot be perceived, are to man a humiliation and a motive
for glorifying God." The philosophy of the final portion of Job is of
that kind which presses beyond secondary causes and finds the real
ground of creaturely existence. Intellectual apprehension of the
innumerable and far-reaching threads of Divine purpose and the secrets
of the Divine will is not attempted. But the moral nature of man is
brought into touch with the glorious righteousness of God. Thus the
reconciliation is revealed for which the whole poem has made
preparation. Job has passed through the furnace of trial and the deep
waters of doubt, and at last the way is opened for him into a wealthy
place. Till the Son of God Himself come to clear the mystery of
suffering no larger reconciliation is possible. Accepting the
inevitable boundaries of knowledge, the mind may at length have peace.
And Job finds the way of reconciliation.
"_I know that Thou canst do all things,
And that no purpose of Thine can be restrained.
'Who is this that hideth counsel without knowledge?'
Then have I uttered what I understood not,
Things too wonderful for me, which I knew not.
'Hear, now, and I will speak;
I will demand of Thee, and declare Thou unto me.'
I had heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear;
But now mine eye seeth Thee,
Wherefore I repudiate my words and repent in dust and ashes._"
All things God can do, and where His purposes are declared there is the
pledge of their accomplishment. Does man exist?--it must be for some end
that will come about. Has God planted in the human mind spiritual
desires?--they shall be satisfied. Job returns on the question that
accused him--"Who is this darkening counsel?" It was he himself who
obscured counsel by ignorant words. He had only heard of God then, and
walked in the vain belief of a traditional religion. His efforts to do
duty and to avert the Divine anger by sacrifice had alike sprung from
the imperfect knowledge of a dream-life that never reached beyond words
to facts and things. God was greater far than he had ever thought,
nearer than he had ever conceived. His mind is filled with a sense of
the Eternal power, and overwhelmed by proofs of wisdom to which the
little problems of man's life can offer no difficulty.
"Now mine eye seeth Thee." The vision of God is to his soul like the
dazzling light of day to one issuing from a cavern. He is in a new
world where every creature lives and moves in God. He is under a
government that appears new because now the grand comprehensiveness
and minute care of Divine providence are realised. Doubt of God and
difficulty in acknowledging the justice of God are swept away by the
magnificent demonstration of vigour, spirit and sympathy, which Job
had as yet failed to connect with the Divine Life. Faith therefore
finds freedom, and its liberty is reconciliation, redemption. He
cannot indeed behold God face to face and hear the judgment of
acquittal for which he had longed and cried. Of this, however, he does
not now feel the need. Rescued from the uncertainty in which he had
been involved--all that was beautiful and good appearing to quiver
like a mirage--he feels life again to have its place and use in the
Divine order. It is the fulfilment of Job's great hope, so far as it
can be fulfilled in this world. The question of his integrity is not
formally decided. But a larger question is answered, and the answer
satisfies meantime the personal desire.
Job makes no confession of sin. His friends and Elihu, all of whom
endeavour to find evil in his life, are entirely at fault. The
repentance is not from moral guilt, but from the hasty and venturous
speech that escaped him in the time of trial. After all one's defence
of Job one must allow that he does not at every point avoid the
appearance of evil. There was need that he should repent and find new
life in new humility. The discovery he has made does not degrade a
man. Job sees God as great and true and faithful as he had believed
Him to be, yea, greater and more faithful by far. He sees himself a
creature of this great God and is exalted, an ignorant creature and is
reproved. The larger horizon which he demanded having opened to him,
he finds himself much less than he had seemed. In the microcosm of his
past dream-life and narrow religion he appeared great, perfect, worthy
of all he enjoyed at the hand of God; but now, in the macrocosm, he is
small, unwise, weak. God and the soul stand sure as before; but God's
justice to the soul He has made is viewed along a different line. Not
as a mighty sheik can Job now debate with the Almighty he has invoked.
The vast ranges of being are unfolded, and among the subjects of the
Creator he is one,--bound to praise the Almighty for existence and all
it means. His new birth is finding himself little, yet cared for in
God's great universe.
The writer is no doubt struggling with an idea he cannot fully
express; and in fact he gives no more than the pictorial outline of
it. But without attributing sin to Job he points, in the confession of
ignorance, to the germ of a doctrine of sin. Man, even when upright,
must be stung to dissatisfaction, to a sense of imperfection--to
realise his fall as a new birth in spiritual evolution. The moral
ideal is indicated, the boundlessness of duty and the need for an
awakening of man to his place in the universe. The dream-life now
appears a clouded partial existence, a period of lost opportunities
and barren vain-glory. Now opens the greater life in the light of God.
And at the last the challenge of the Almighty to Satan with which the
poem began stands justified. The Adversary cannot say,--The hedge set
around Thy servant broken down, his flesh afflicted, now he has cursed
Thee to Thy face. Out of the trial Job comes, still on God's side,
more on God's side than ever, with a nobler faith more strongly
founded on the rock of truth. It is, we may say, a prophetic parable
of the great test to which religion is exposed in the world, its
difficulties and dangers and final triumph. To confine the reference
to Israel is to miss the grand scope of the poem. At the last, as at
the first, we are beyond Israel, out in a universal problem of man's
nature and experience. By his wonderful gift of inspiration, painting
the sufferings and the victory of Job, the author is a herald of the
great advent. He is one of those who prepared the way not for a Jewish
Messiah, the redeemer of a small people, but for the Christ of God,
the Son of Man, the Saviour of the world.
A universal problem, that is, a question of every human age, has been
presented and within limits brought to a solution. But it is not the
supreme question of man's life. Beneath the doubts and fears with which
this drama has dealt lie darker and more stormy elements. The vast
controversy in which every human soul has a share oversweeps the land of
Uz and the trial of Job. From his life the conscience of sin is
excluded. The author exhibits a soul tried by outward circumstances; he
does not make his hero share the thoughts or judgment of the evil-doer.
Job represents the believer in the furnace of providential pain and
loss. He is neither a sinner nor a sin-bearer. Yet the book leads on
with no faltering movement toward the great drama in which every problem
of religion centres. Christ's life, character, work cover the whole
region of spiritual faith and struggle, of conflict and reconciliation,
of temptation and victory, sin and salvation; and while the problem is
exhaustively wrought out the Reconciler stands divinely free of all
entanglement. He is light, and in Him is no darkness at all. Job's
honest life emerges at last, from a narrow range of trial into personal
reconciliation and redemption through the grace of God. Christ's pure
heavenly life goes forward in the Spirit through the full range of
spiritual trial, bearing every need of erring man, confirming every
wistful hope of the race, yet revealing with startling force man's
immemorial quarrel with the light, and convicting him in the hour that
it saves him. Thus for the ancient inspired drama there is set, in the
course of evolution, another, far surpassing it, the Divine tragedy of
the universe, involving the spiritual omnipotence of God. Christ has to
overcome not only doubt and fear, but the devastating godlessness of
man, the strange sad enmity of the carnal mind. His triumph in the
sacrifice of the cross leads religion forth beyond all difficulties and
dangers into eternal purity and calm. That is--through Him the soul of
believing man is reconciled by a transcendent spiritual law to nature
and providence, and his spirit consecrated for ever to the holiness of
the Eternal.