Thomas Aquinas Commentary Job 19:1-22

Thomas Aquinas Commentary

Job 19:1-22

1225–1274
Catholic
Thomas Aquinas
Thomas Aquinas

Thomas Aquinas Commentary

Job 19:1-22

1225–1274
Catholic
SCRIPTURE

"Then Job answered and said, How long will ye vex my soul, And break me in pieces with words? These ten times have ye reproached me: Ye are not ashamed that ye deal hardly with me. And be it indeed that I have erred, Mine error remaineth with myself. If indeed ye will magnify yourselves against me, And plead against me my reproach; Know now that God hath subverted me [in my cause], And hath compassed me with his net. Behold, I cry out of wrong, but I am not heard: I cry for help, but there is no justice. He hath walled up my way that I cannot pass, And hath set darkness in my paths. He hath stripped me of my glory, And taken the crown from my head. He hath broken me down on every side, and I am gone; And my hope hath he plucked up like a tree. He hath also kindled his wrath against me, And he counteth me unto him as [one of] his adversaries. His troops come on together, And cast up their way against me, And encamp round about my tent. He hath put my brethren far from me, And mine acquaintance are wholly estranged from me. My kinsfolk have failed, And my familiar friends have forgotten me. They that dwell in my house, and my maids, count me for a stranger; I am an alien in their sight. I call unto my servant, and he giveth me no answer, [Though] I entreat him with my mouth. My breath is strange to my wife, And my supplication to the children of mine own mother. Even young children despise me; If I arise, they speak against me. All my familiar friends abhor me, And they whom I loved are turned against me. My bone cleaveth to my skin and to my flesh, And I am escaped with the skin of my teeth. Have pity upon me, have pity upon me, O ye my friends; For the hand of God hath touched me. Why do ye persecute me as God, And are not satisfied with my flesh?" — Job 19:1-22 (ASV)

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.