Thomas Aquinas Commentary Job 19

In the previous discourse, it seems Bildad intended two things. First, he intended to refute Job for his stupidity, pride, and anger (Job 18:2). He intended to afflict him with this, just as his other friends had done, which is why Job says, “How long will you afflict my soul?” Second, Bildad intended to confirm his opinion that the adversities of this present life arise in return for sins. He had, in fact, explained this at length by listing different adversities without offering any other proof (Job 18:4). Regarding this, Job asks, “and injure me with your arguments?”—that is, you tire me with words, but not with convincing proofs.

It is tolerable if someone speaks against his friend once, but if a person says the same things over and over, he seems to be firmly established in malice. And so Job then says, “Look! You have confused me ten times,” both by your own speaking and by listening to me with anger. Before this present response, Job had spoken five times, if we begin from when he said, Cursed be the day I was born (Job 3:3), and his friends had answered him five times. Even if they would not stop afflicting the one they were tormenting for friendship’s sake, they could at least stop afflicting him with their refutations. So he then says, “and you are not ashamed to oppress me,” for you wear me out as much with your reproaches as with your lengthy discourses.

Among other reproaches, Bildad seems to have blamed him for ignorance when he said, Understand first, and then we will speak (Job 18:2). The friends certainly should have tolerated this ignorance. He should have been excused for it, not reproached with it, especially in a time of adversity. And so he then says, “If I have indeed erred, my ignorance will be with me,” as if to say: It burdens no one but me, and so it is not fitting for you to reproach me for ignorance in the midst of adversity. So he then says, “But you raise yourselves up against me,” showing your excellence, “and you blame me for my disgraces”—that is, for disgraces that concern only me and do not burden others.

After he begins with these things concerning the refutation of his friends, he goes on to pursue his main proposition, intending to show that what they were saying is false: namely, that present adversities always arise because of past sins. He immediately draws an inappropriate conclusion from this assumption, saying, “At least now, understand that God has not afflicted me with right judgment.” It is as if to say: If adversities only arise because of sins, then the judgment of God, by which He gravely afflicted me when I did not sin gravely, is not equitable. He says, “At least now,” because until now, he had not yet listed his adversities in as much detail as he does now.

He says that he has not only been afflicted with adversities but also hemmed in by them, so that he cannot find a way to escape. And so the text continues, “and He has encircled me with His scourges,” because the scourges themselves have taken away the path to any cure. He begins to pursue this second point first. A cure for adversity can be found through human aid in two ways. First, in the act itself, for example, when someone is violently oppressed by another and receives aid from someone else. He rejects this, saying, “Behold, I will cry aloud while I am suffering attack, and no one will hear me.” It is as if to say: If I cry aloud against those who violently oppress me, no one would pay attention and come to my aid. Second, after the act, for example, when someone who has suffered injury complains to a judge who restores and vindicates him by his judgment. He rejects this, saying, “I will cry out, and there is no one to judge”—that is, if I cried out in complaint, there would be no judge present to free me by his judgment.

A cure can also be found by the person himself, who might escape adversity in two ways. First, by his own power, which he excludes by saying, “He has blocked my path so I cannot pass,” as if to say: He has placed so many obstacles in my way that I cannot remove them. Second, by his own wisdom, and to exclude this he applies the text, “and He placed darkness on my path,” so that I could not see how I must go forward.

Then, after ruling out any cures, he lists his adversities, beginning with the external goods he lost.

1. He first places the loss of honor and glory, saying, “He has stripped me of my glory,” because although he had previously been held in honor and reverence, now even younger men mocked him, as the text says later in Job 30:1.
2. He second places the loss of rank, saying, “and He took the crown from my head,” because before, he used to sit like a king surrounded by his army (Job 29:25), as the text will say later, but now “he sat on a dung heap, scraping the sores with a potsherd” (Job 2:8).
3. He third places the loss of external possessions, saying, “He has destroyed me on every side, and I am perishing,” that is, since all my external goods have been laid waste while the adversity lasts, for there is no hope of recovery. So he then adds, “and He has taken away my hope like an uprooted tree.” For a tree whose branches are cut off has hope that it may grow again, as long as its roots remain in the earth. But if its roots are torn out of the earth, it must dry up and perish. The same is true of him; as though his roots had been torn out, he had no hope of recovering his temporal prosperity.

The root of hope is twofold: one part is from divine aid, the other from human aid. The root of hope that comes from divine aid seemed to have been torn up by the fact that God appeared to be gravely angry with him, according to the opinion of those who see divine punishment only in the adversities of this life. And so he says, “His fury has been roused against me,” which he says to show the intensity of the anger. For fury is anger inflamed. But the more violent the fury, the more quickly it usually passes, and in this way, hope could remain for the future. But if anger turns into hatred, then no hope seems to remain. To show this, he adds, “and so He has considered me His enemy.” For one does not hope for a cure from an enemy.

He next gives the sign of God’s anger and hatred when he continues, “His hired robbers came all at once.” The term “hired robbers” refers to the Sabeans (Job 1:15), the Chaldeans (Job 1:17), and the demons (compare to chapter 1) who together laid waste to his goods, almost as if in a conspiracy. He calls them “robbers hired by God” as if this happened by divine command, just as Job’s friends had said. These aforementioned hired robbers plundered Job publicly and without any respect or fear, and so he then adds, “and they have cut a path for themselves through me,” as if to say: They plundered me like an enemy one finds on the road. They also attacked him everywhere, tenaciously. Regarding this, he then says, “They besieged,” meaning tenaciously, “all around,” meaning completely, “my tent,” meaning the goods of my house.

Next, he shows that the root of his hope that comes from human aid has also been torn out. He shows that he could not expect any help from those from whom it would seem most likely to come. He first lists those who have been separated from his household, beginning with his brothers, saying, “He has put my brothers far from me,” so that they do not want to, or are not able to, bring me help. Then he adds his close friends: “and my acquaintances have turned from me like strangers,” not bringing me help. As for his blood relatives or those who depend on him in any way, he says, “My relatives have abandoned me,” not bringing me any aid. As for those with whom he was once associated, he says, “and those who knew me”—that is, once as a close friend, but now in my trial—“have forgotten me,” meaning they do not care for me.

After these, he goes on to list the household servants, saying, “The tenants of my house”—those who used to serve me—“and my maids have considered me a stranger,” not caring about my afflictions, “and I have been like a foreigner in their eyes,” for they obviously despise me. He next mentions the disobedience of his slaves: “I called my slave, and he did not answer me.” He adds their proud contempt: “I begged him with my own mouth”—that is, I had to urge him not by command but by pleas, because he despised me.

Then he lists the people most closely joined to him: namely, his wife and children. A wife usually especially enjoys the presence of her husband, unless she comes to detest him because of some serious corruption. He shows this, saying, “my wife shuddered at my breath,” because the stench of his sores made him dreadful to her. The duty of children is to obey the slightest nod expressing a parent’s will. As a result of great contempt for the parent, a father—to whom a son should show respect—has to beg his son humbly. To show this, he adds, “I begged the sons of my own womb.” But this seems to contradict what was said above (Job 1:19), where the text states that his sons and daughters were crushed by the collapse of their house. The explanation may be that some small children survived who were not present at that banquet. Or perhaps some of his grandsons, blaming their own parents’ deaths on Job’s sins, despised him for it.

So, after saying he was despised by those inside and outside his household, he next shows that he has been despised by both the foolish and the wise. Foolish men characteristically despise those they see in misery, because they think only earthly goods should be honored. And so he says, “Even the foolish despised me”—in their hearts, while I was present—“and when I left them, they disparaged me,” saying things they were ashamed to say in my presence. Then he also says he is despised by wise men whom he once regarded as close friends, and so he says, “Once my counselors, they despised me”—namely, these men whom I used to admit to my counsel because of their wisdom—“and he whom I loved most is against me.” Perhaps he says this because one of those present was more hostile to him than the others.

So after he has described the adversities that belong to external things, he remarks on the wasting away of his own body, saying, “My bone clung to my skin, after my flesh was consumed,” because his flesh had been so consumed by the severity of his illness that his skin clung to his bones. But because the lips are fleshy and adhere to the teeth (which are like bones), he then makes an exception for them, saying, “Only my lips are left around my teeth.” By this, he makes an indirect reference to the fact that all the other functions of his body’s members had ceased, and only the function of speech remained.

After listing his own adversities, he invites his friends to compassion, doubling his request for mercy because of his great number of miseries, saying, “Have pity on me, have pity on me, you, at least, who are my friends,” because I have been abandoned by others. The reason for pity is his affliction, which is all the more severe because it is inflicted by someone more powerful, and so he continues, “because the hand of the Lord has struck me.” For he understood that he had been struck by God. It does not seem fitting for a person to add affliction to one who is already afflicted, and so he says, “Why do you persecute me like God?” as if to say: The persecution that comes from God is enough for me; it was your duty to bring consolation. He shows in what way they were persecuting him, saying, “And glut yourselves on my flesh,” which is characteristic of detractors, who are said to feed on human flesh insofar as they rejoice in the weaknesses of others. For the flesh is the weakest part of an animal.

Job had said above that his hope had been taken away, "like an uprooted tree" (Job 19:10). He certainly said this in reference to the hope of recovering temporal prosperity, to which his friends repeatedly urged him. However, he showed in many ways above (verses 11-20) that he should not have this hope, by reducing their arguments to various unfitting conclusions. Now he clearly declares his intention, showing that he had not said these things in despair of God, but because he held a higher hope in Him—a hope not related to present goods, but to future ones.

Because he was about to speak of great, wondrous, and certain things, he first shows his desire that the thought he is about to express would endure in the faith of his descendants. We transmit our words and their meaning to our descendants through writing. So he says, "Who will grant me that my words be written down?"—that is, what I am about to say about the hope I have fixed in God, so that my words may not be forgotten. What is written in ink usually fades with the passage of time, so when we want something to be preserved for a long time, we record it not only in writing but by an impression on skin, metal, or stone. Since what he hoped for was not in the immediate future but is reserved for fulfillment at the end of time, he then says, "Who will grant me that my words be engraved in a book with an iron stylus," like an impression made on skin; "or," if this is not enough, by a stronger impression made, "on a plate of lead, or," if this seems not enough, "securely sculptured with an iron stylus on flint?"

He shows what these words are that he would like to be preserved with such great diligence by adding, "For I know that my redeemer lives." He clearly presents this as the cause. We are not anxious to commit to memory things of which we are unsure, and so he says pointedly, "For I know"—that is, by the certitude of faith. This hope concerns the glory of the future resurrection, for which he first assigns the cause when he says, "my redeemer lives."

Here we must consider that man, who was established as immortal by God, incurred death through sin, according to Romans: "Through one man sin entered the world, and through sin, death" (Romans 5:12). Job foresaw through the spirit of faith that the human race must be redeemed from this sin through Christ. Christ redeemed us from sin by His death, dying for us, but He did not die in such a way that He was consumed by death. For although He died according to His humanity, He could not die according to His divinity.

From the life of the divinity, the humanity has also been restored by rising to life again, according to what is said in 2 Corinthians: "For although he was crucified because of our infirmity, yet he lives by the power of God" (2 Corinthians 13:4). The life of the risen Christ, moreover, will be diffused to all people in the general resurrection. Thus, in the same place the Apostle Paul adds, "For we are weak in him, but we will live in him by the power of God in us" (2 Corinthians 13:4). And so the Lord says in John, "The dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear it will live: for just as the Father has life in himself, so he gave it to the Son also to have life in himself" (John 5:25–26).

Thus, the primordial cause of human resurrection is the life of the Son of God, which did not take its beginning from Mary, as the Ebionites said, but always was, according to Hebrews: "Jesus Christ yesterday, today, and forever" (Hebrews 13:8). Therefore, Job pointedly does not say, "My redeemer will live," but "lives." Based on this cause, he foretells the future resurrection and determines its time when he adds, "and I shall arise on the very last day from the earth." To counter the error of those who posited that the motion of the heavens and the state of this world would endure forever, he clearly says, "on the very last day." For if the heavens' motion were to endure forever, there would be no last day. This is consistent with the statement of the Lord, who says in John, "I will raise him up on the very last day (novissimo die)" (John 6:40).

There were other men who said that people will rise by resuming not an earthly body, but some kind of heavenly body. To exclude this, he then says, "I will be surrounded again with my own skin." He says this expressly because he had said above (verse 20) that only the skin had remained around his bones. In this way of speaking, he gives the reason (ratio) for the resurrection: namely, that the soul does not always remain divested of its own skin.

Again, there were some who said that the soul will resume the same body it had put aside, but in the same condition, so that it would need food and drink and would perform the other fleshly functions of this life. But he excludes this by then saying, "and in my flesh I shall see God." It is clear that human flesh is corruptible in its present state, as Wisdom says, "The body which is corrupted weighs down the spirit" . Therefore, no one can see God while living in this mortal flesh.

However, the flesh that the soul will resume in the resurrection will certainly be the same in substance, but it will have incorruptibility by a divine gift, according to what Paul says: "This corruptible must put on incorruption" (1 Corinthians 15:53). Therefore, that flesh will be in this latter condition, in no way impeding the soul from being able to see God, but rather being completely subject to the soul.

Porphyry, not knowing this, said, "The soul must flee the body to become happy," as though the soul and not the man will see God. To exclude this, Job states, "whom I myself will see," as if to say: Not only will my soul see God, but "I myself," who consist of body and soul. To indicate that the body will participate in that vision in its own proper way, he adds, "and my eyes will behold him." This is not because the eyes of the body will see the divine essence, but because the eyes of the body will see God made man. They will also see the glory of God shining in created things, as Augustine says at the end of The City of God.

To ensure that one believes that the man who is restored to see God is the same individual (the same in number) and not just of the same species, Job says, "and not another"—that is, not another in number. This is so that one might not believe that he expects to return to the kind of life which Aristotle describes in Book II of De Generatione, saying that each corruptible substance that has been moved will be restored in species, but not in the same number.

After establishing these premises about the cause, time, and manner of the resurrection, and the glory and identity of those who will rise, he then adds, "This my hope has been put in my heart." It is as if he were saying: My hope is not in the earthly things which you promise in vain, but in the future glory of the resurrection. He says pointedly, "has been put in my heart," to show that he held this hope concealed not only in words but also in his heart; not doubtfully, but most firmly; not as something of little consequence, but as something most precious. For what is hidden in the heart is possessed secretly, held firmly, and considered dear.

Thus, after he has shown the depth of the hope which he had in God, he rejects the false accusations they leveled against him, as if he had rejected the hope and fear of God by not putting his hope in temporal things. So he then says, "Why, then, do you now say: Let us persecute him?"—as though he despairs of God or does not fear God—"and let us find the root of the word against him?"—that is, by condemning his speech as though he has denied the providence of God. He does not deny, but asserts, this providence, saying that rewards and punishments are prepared by God for humanity even after this life.

So he then says, "Flee, then, from the face of the sword"—the sword of divine vengeance reserved in the future life for you, even if you flourish in temporal prosperity. "For his sword is the avenger of evils"—that is, the vengeance which He will properly take after death. "Know there is a judgment," not only in this life, but also after this life in the resurrection of the good and the wicked.