Albert Barnes Commentary Job 14:7

"For there is hope of a tree, If it be cut down, that it will sprout again, And that the tender branch thereof will not cease." — Job 14:7 (ASV)

For there is hope of a tree - This passage, extending to Job 14:12, is one of exquisite beauty. Its object is to state reasons why man should be permitted to enjoy this life.

A tree, if cut down, might spring up again and flourish; but not so with man. Man dies to rise no more; he is cut down and does not live again.

The passage is important as it expresses the prevalent sentiment of the time in which Job lived about the future condition of man, and it is one that deserves a close examination.

The great question is whether Job believed in the future state or in the resurrection of the dead. On this question, one or two things are clear from the outset.

1. He did not believe that man would spring up from the grave in any sense similar to the way in which the sprout or germ of a tree grows up when the tree is cut down.
2. He did not believe in the doctrine of metempsychosis, or transmigration of souls—a doctrine that was so common among the ancients.

In this respect, the patriarchal religion stood apart from the systems of paganism. As far as I know, no expression is found that would lead us to suppose that they had ever embraced it or had even heard of it.

The general sentiment here is that if a tree is cut down, it may be expected to shoot up again, and another tree will be found in its place—as is the case with the chestnut, the willow, and the oak. But Job says that there was nothing like this to happen to man. There was no root, no germ, no seminal principle from which he would be made to live again on the earth.

Man was to be finally cut off from all his pleasures and his friends here, and to go away, to return no more. Still, that Job believed in his continued existence beyond the grave—his existence in the dark and gloomy world of shades—is apparent from the whole book, and indeed from the very passage before us . The image here is very beautiful and is often employed by poets. For example, Moschus, in his third Idyl, as translated by Gisborne, writes:

The meanest herb we trample in the field,
Or in the garden nurture, when its leaf
At winter’s touch is blasted, and its place
Forgotten, soon its vernal bud renews,
And from short slumber wakes to life again.
Man wakes no more! Man, valiant, glorious, wise,
When death once chills him, sinks in sleep profound.
A long, unconscious, never-ending sleep.

See also Beattie’s Hermit:

’Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more;
I mourn, but you woodlands, I mourn not for you;
For morn is approaching, your charms to restore,
Perfumed with fresh fragrance, and glittering with dew.
Nor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn;
Kind nature the embryo blossom will save;
But when shall spring visit the mouldering urn?
O when shall it dawn on the night of the grave?

The same image has also been beautifully employed by Dr. Dwight, though he urged it as an argument to prove the doctrine of the resurrection:

In those lone, silent realms of night,
Shall peace and hope no more arise?
No future morning light the tomb,
Nor day-star gild the darksome skies?
Shall spring the faded world revive?
Shall waning moons their light renew?
Again shall setting suns ascend,
And chase the darkness from our view?

The feeling of Job here is that when man was removed from the earth, he was removed finally; that there was no hope of his revisiting it again, and that he could not be employed in the dark abode of departed spirits in the cheerful and happy manner in which he might be in this world of light. This idea is also expressed in a most tender manner by the Psalmist:

Wilt thou show wonders to the dead?
Shall the dead arise and praise thee?
Shall thy loving-kindness be declared in the grave?
Or thy faithfulness in destruction?
Shall thy wonders be known in the dark?
And thy righteousness in the land of forgetfulness? (Psalms 88:10–12).

And the same feelings were evinced by Hezekiah, the pious king of Israel:

For Sheol cannot praise thee;
Death cannot celebrate thee;
They that go down into the pit cannot hope for thy truth.
The living, the living, he shall praise thee, as I do this day;
The father to the children shall make known thy faithfulness. (Isaiah 38:18–19).

All these gloomy and desponding views arose from the imperfect conception they had of the future world. To them, it was a world of dense and gloomy shades—a world of night, of conscious existence indeed—but still far away from light and from the comforts people enjoyed on the earth.

We are to remember that the revelations then made were very few and obscure. We should deem it an inestimable favor that we have a better hope and possess far more just and clear views of the employments of the future world.

Yet, with all the light we have, our views of that world are probably much further from the reality than the patriarchs' views were from the understanding we are now permitted to cherish. Such as they are, however, they are fitted to elevate and cheer the soul.

We shall not, indeed, live again on the earth, but we shall enter a world of light and glory, compared with which all that is glorious here shall fade away. Not far distant is that blessed world; and in our trials, we may look to it not with dread, as Job did to the land of shades, but with triumph and joy.

Will not cease - This means it will not fail or be missing. It will spring up and live.