Thomas Aquinas Commentary Job 3

In Chapter 2, I explained that ancient philosophers held two opinions about the passions. The Stoics said that there was no place for sorrow in the wise man. The Peripatetics said that the wise man is indeed sad, but in sad situations, he conducts himself with a moderation that is in accordance with reason. This opinion agrees with the truth, for reason does not take away the condition of nature. It is natural for our sensory nature to rejoice and be pleased about suitable things and to grieve and feel pain about harmful things. Therefore, reason does not take away this natural disposition but moderates it so that reason is not deflected from its right course because of sorrow. This opinion also agrees with Holy Scripture, which attributes sorrow to Christ, in whom there is the complete fullness of virtue and wisdom.

Therefore, Job indeed feels sad as a result of the adversities described previously; otherwise, the virtue of patience would have no place in him. But his reason did not abandon the right path because of sorrow; rather, it governed the sorrow. This is proven when the text says, “After this, Job opened his mouth.” “After this” means after he had spent seven days in silence. This clearly shows that what he is going to say is said in accordance with a reason not confused by sorrow.

In fact, if his words had been spoken from a mind confused by sorrow, he would have said them sooner, when the force of sorrow was more acute. All sorrow is lessened with the passage of time, and one feels it more in the beginning. He seems to have kept silent for a long time for this reason: so that he would not be judged to have spoken from a confused mind. This is shown by the text, “He opened his mouth.” In fact, when someone speaks because of a fit of passion, he does not open his own mouth but is compelled to speak by the passion. For we are not the masters of our actions when they are driven by passion, but only of those done through reason. In speaking, he showed the sorrow which he suffered, and he showed patience. Wise men typically express the movements of the passions they feel in a reasonable way. So Christ said, My soul is sorrowful unto death (Matthew 26:38), and Saint Paul says in Romans, I do not do the good I want, but the very evil that I hate, I do (Romans 7:15). Also, Boethius, at the beginning of the Consolation of Philosophy, opens with the expression of his sadness but shows how to mitigate it by reason. So Job expresses his sorrow verbally.

The text continues, “and he cursed his day.” This seems to contradict what Saint Paul says in Romans, Bless and do not curse (Romans 12:14). Note that cursing can mean several things. Since “to curse” (maledicere) is to speak evil [malum dicere], every time one speaks evil, he is said to be cursing. One can speak evil of someone through speech that causes evil, just as God brings about a negative outcome for something in His very speech, or a judge imposes punishment on another by speaking the sentence of condemnation. This is the way the Lord “spoke evil,” or cursed, in Genesis: Cursed is the ground because of you (Genesis 3:17), and Cursed be Canaan, a slave of slaves shall he be to his brothers (Genesis 9:25). Joshua also cursed Achor, who suffered from the condemnation (Joshua 7:25).

In another way, one may understand cursing as invoking or desiring evil for another. For example, in 1 Kings, “The Philistine cursed David in his ways” (1 Kings 17:43). In a third way, one may simply speak evil by disclosing it—whether in the present, the past, or the future, and whether truly or falsely. Paul prohibits cursing in this way when someone disparages another or falsely defames their character. However, he does not prohibit it when a judge condemns a guilty defendant or when someone expresses in an orderly way the real evil of someone, either by demonstrating an act to occur in the present, relating something past, or predicting something in the future.

So, one should understand that Job cursed his day because he denounced it as evil—not because of its nature, which was created by God, but according to the common usage of Holy Scripture, where time is called good or evil based on what happens during that time. The Apostle Paul speaks in this way when he says, making the most of the time, because the days are evil (Ephesians 5:16). So Job cursed his day by remembering the evils that had happened to him on that day.

The next verse explains the manner of his cursing and continues, “And Job said: Let the day perish on which I was born, and the night which said, ‘A man child is conceived.’” Note that although existing and living are desirable in themselves, existing and living in such misery should be avoided, though one might freely endure being miserable for some purpose. Therefore, a wretched life that is not directed toward some good end should not be chosen for any reason. The Lord speaks in this way in Matthew: It would have been better for that man if he had never been born (Matthew 26:24).

Reason alone apprehends what good can be expected in some misery; the sensory part of our nature does not perceive it. For example, the sense of taste perceives the medicine’s bitterness, but reason alone appreciates its purpose, which is health. If someone were to express only the feeling of his sense of taste, he would denounce the medicine as evil, although reason would judge it to be good because of its purpose. Thus, the blessed Job was able, through his reason, to perceive the misery he suffered as being useful for some end. But the lower part of his soul, influenced by sorrow, would completely reject this adversity. Thus, life itself under such adversity was hateful to him.

When something is hateful to us, we detest everything that led us to it. So in the lower part of his soul—whose passion Job now intended to express—he hated both the birth and the conception by which he came into this life. Consequently, he also hated the day of his birth and the night of his conception, following the custom of attributing to a time the good or evil that happens in it. Therefore, because Job rejected life in adversity from the point of view of the senses, he wished that he had never been born or conceived. He expresses this by saying, Let the day perish on which I was born, which is to say, “I wish I had never been born!” He continues, and the night which said, ‘A man child is conceived,’ meaning, “I wish I had never been conceived!” He uses a fitting order here, since a failure to be born does not prevent conception, but a lack of conception does prevent birth. He also fittingly ascribes conception to night and birth to day because, according to astrologers, a birth during the day is more praiseworthy because the principal star, the sun, shines over the land at that time, whereas conception at night is more frequent. Jeremiah uses a similar way of speaking, saying, Cursed be the day I was born, may the night on which my mother bore me not be blessed (Jeremiah 20:14).

After cursing the day of his birth and the night of his conception, he directs a curse at each of these periods of time, one by one. He begins with the curse of the day of his birth: “Let that day be darkness!” Consider that, as Jerome says in his Prologue, “from the words in which Job says, Let the day perish on which I was born (Job 3:3), to the place where it is written near the end of the book, For that reason, I repent (Job 42:6), the verses are hexameters in dactyl and spondee.” Therefore, it is clear that this book was written in a poetic style. Throughout this book, he uses the figures and images that poets customarily use. Since poets want to affect others deeply, they typically use several different images to express the same idea. So here, too, Job uses things that often make a day hateful to curse his own day in the way we are discussing.

The dignity of a day is its brightness, for this is what distinguishes it from night. He excludes this dignity by saying, “Let that day be darkness,” an idea that seems frivolous and vain on a superficial reading of the text. For the day of his birth had passed and was not now present. What has passed cannot be changed. How then could a day that has passed be changed into night? One should know that some judgments we make about things are expressed as desires. So now the text says, “Let that day be darkness,” as if to say: The day of my birth ought to be in darkness because that would befit the darkness and misery I am suffering. For the sight of light is delightful, as Qoheleth says, Light is pleasing and it is delightful for the eyes to see the sun . It is customary in Holy Scripture to represent sorrow by darkness, as one sees in Qoheleth: He spent all his days in darkness and grief, in much vexation and sickness and resentment .

A day is bright in several ways. First, of course, from the sanctification of God, who established it to be celebrated, as Exodus teaches: Remember, keep holy the Sabbath day (Exodus 20:8). Therefore, Job removes this sort of brightness from the previously mentioned day when he says, “May God not seek it,” as if to say: May God not require people to celebrate it. In fact, God requires some days to be celebrated because of an extraordinary favor granted to humanity on that day. For example, the Sabbath in the Old Law was celebrated for the gift of Creation, and the Passover was celebrated for the gift of liberation from Egypt. This is also true of the feast days that are celebrated in the New Testament. Thus, Job wishes to show by this that his birth should not be counted among the extraordinary favors of God, since he seems to have been born for sorrow rather than for joy.

Second, a day is bright from the memory of people. People customarily celebrate certain days on which something great or joyous happened to them, just as Herod and Pharaoh celebrated their birthdays. He excludes such brightness from this day, saying, “May it not be remembered,” namely, by people, because in truth nothing joyous happened on that day, but rather something sad, as is clear from the outcome. Third, a day is bright from physical light, which can be removed in several ways. First, from the loss of the sun’s rays that illuminate the earth, as happens in a solar eclipse. The text speaks about this, saying, “nor let light shine on it.” Second, from the intervention of clouds or similar things that hide the sun’s rays. The text means this when it says, “Let gloom claim it.” Third, when the person himself lacks the power of sight, for when someone is dead or blind, the sun’s brightness is taken away from him. The next verse expresses this: “and the shadow of death.”

Job explains two ways that can produce the previously mentioned darkness. First, regarding the sequence of events, when he says, “Let clouds dwell on it.” For clouds “dwell” on a day when a day that dawned clear and beautiful is suddenly and unexpectedly overcast by clouds. Job’s own life seems to be like this. Second, regarding the kind of darkness. So he says, “Let it be enveloped in bitterness.” In this verse, he shows that everything said about darkening should be understood as referring to the darkness of sorrow. In fact, his style seems to explain one allegory by means of another. In all these expressions, he only means to say that the day of his birth should not be judged as a day of joy but as one of mourning, since through his birth he entered a life of such great adversity.

After he curses the day of his birth, he next curses the night of his conception in a similar style. First, he attributes to it the reason why the night is rendered very horrible. Since night is frightening in itself because of darkness, the deeper the darkness, the more frightening the night is. This happens when a great storm arises during the night. So the text continues, “let a tempest envelop that night with a whirlwind,” as if he were to say: It would have been fitting for that night to be seized by a dark whirlwind, corresponding to my life, which is enveloped by such a great whirlwind of misfortune.

Then he takes away from the night what seems to belong to its goodness, first regarding human opinion. Since people mark time by the events that happen during those times, events that happen at night can seem small and hardly worth remembering. So night is not considered significant in itself in people's memories, but only in connection with the day. He removes this good from the night about which he is speaking, saying, “Let it not be reckoned among the days of the year; let it not be numbered among the months.” Here he says in effect: That night is not worth remembering, since nothing important happened on it, but rather something that causes sorrow. Among the nights that find a place in the memories of people, some are not only remembered but are also celebrated and festive, occasions on which people gather to rejoice. He takes this good away from this night, saying, “Let that night be lonely.” When people come together for things like this on a given night, they do so in praise and celebration of that night because of some important deed that is remembered, as is the case with the faithful when they celebrate the night of the Lord’s Resurrection. So he adds, “let it not be worthy of praise.” For certain nights are worthy of praise because of a great deed that happened on them.

From this, he only intends to show that his conception was not a great event nor one ordered toward a good outcome, but rather toward the evil of the adversity he was experiencing. So he says, Let those curse it who curse the day, those who are capable of rousing up Leviathan. According to the literal sense, this can be understood in two ways. In one way, Leviathan means a great fish, which seems to conform to what is said about him at the end of the book: Can you draw out Leviathan with a fishhook? (Job 41:1). This must mean that those who fish for a fish of this size do so at night in the darkness. So when day begins to dawn, they curse the day because their work and purpose are interrupted by its arrival. There is a second interpretation. Leviathan means the ancient serpent, who is the devil, in the sense of Isaiah: On that day the Lord will punish Leviathan the twisting serpent with his hard, great and strong sword (Isaiah 27:1). Those men, then, are prepared to “rouse up Leviathan” who are eager to carry out the devil’s suggestions by devoting themselves to wicked deeds. These curse the day because, as John says, Everyone who does evil hates the light (John 3:20), and Job says later, The eye of the adulterer sees darkness and if immediately the dawn should appear, he will judge it the shadow of death (Job 24:15, 17). In this way then, when he speaks as before, “Let it not be worthy of praise,” he wants this night to be hateful to good people. So according to what he adds, “Let those curse it, etc.,” he also wants it to be hateful to the wicked, since both the good and the wicked shrink from adversity.

Next, he excludes from this night those qualities that belong to the goodness of night according to nature. One of these is that night is adorned by the sight of the stars. He takes this away when he says, “Let the stars be blotted out in the darkness.” Another quality is that it is adorned with the hope of day, which he removes, saying, “let it hope for light, but not see it,” as if to say: Although it is natural to hope for daylight during the night, this particular night should have a darkness so great that it never ends with the coming of day. The darkness of night is completely broken by the full light of day, but it is first diminished at the break of dawn. He calls down on this night not only that its darkness might not be ended by day, but also that it might not be diminished by the dawn when he says, “nor see the rising dawn of the morning.”

But since what he said seemed impossible—namely, for day and dawn not to follow night—he shows how his words should be interpreted, saying, “because it did not shut the door of my mother’s womb.” For a person’s life in the mother’s womb is a hidden life and is therefore compared to the darkness of night. However, when one appears in the open at birth, it is like a bright day. For this reason, he said that night should not be followed by either dawn or day to show that he wanted his conception never to result in birth. He says, “Because it did not shut the doors of my mother’s womb,” not because the night itself should close the womb (that is, prevent his birth), but because conception is what happens at night. For from conception itself, an impediment can arise that prevents the conception from resulting in a birth.

But since it also seems irrational for someone to detest life, when being and living are desirable to all, he shows the reason for what he has said: “Nor hide trouble from my eyes,” as if to say: I do not detest living because of life itself, but because of the evil I suffer. For although life itself is desirable, a life subject to misery is not. Note here that everything he has said metaphorically above, he clarifies plainly in the final clause—a principle that will be observed in his other discourses.

After cursing the day of his birth and the night of his conception to show that he detested his life from its beginning, Job now shows that he also detests the preservation of his life. With these remarks, he shows more clearly that his life is a burden to him. There are two states of life: one is hidden, in which the conceived live in the womb; the other is open, in which one lives after birth. Regarding the first state, he asks, Why did I not die in the womb? Regarding the second, Why did I not come forth from the womb and expire? He first addresses the second state.

It should be understood that external life can be lost in two ways. First, it can be lost from some harm inflicted upon it, whether internal, like sickness, or external, like a sword or something similar. The phrase, Why did I not come forth from the womb and expire? can be applied to this. Second, external life can be taken away by the loss of necessary support. This support can be external, such as being held, kept warm, and other such aids, which is what the verse, Why did the knees receive me? refers to. Or the support can be internal, like food, to which he refers when he says, Or why was I suckled at the breast? Indeed, a newborn’s life needs these supports from the very first day.

Since asking “Why did this happen?” implies that it happened for no good reason, Job consequently shows not only the futility of preserving his life but also the harm in it. He first shows this regarding the evils he now suffers, saying, For now I would be sleeping and quiet; I would be at rest. He calls death “sleep” because of his hope in the resurrection, which he will state plainly later. By “quiet,” he means rest from the adversities he was suffering, as if to say: If I had died immediately when I was born, I would not be tormented by the evils I now suffer.

Second, he addresses this regarding the goods he previously possessed. Someone might say to him, “If you had not been preserved in this life, you would not have had the goods you enjoyed in the past.” To answer this, Job shows that the preservation of his life should not be desired for the sake of those goods, because even those who enjoy an abundance of great goods throughout their lives end up the same way in death. He means this when he says, And in my sleep—that is, death—I would have been at rest—that is, freed from the troubles of life—with kings and counselors of the earth.

He points to those with high social standing who seem to prosper, whose intention is either to enjoy their pleasures—and regarding them, he says, who built solitary dwellings for themselves (literally, for those wanting to be alone to hunt or for some other pleasant pastime)—or to accumulate wealth, and regarding them, he says, or with princes who hoard gold and fill their houses with silver. It is as if Job is saying: If I had died immediately after I was born, I would now have nothing less than what those men have after their deaths, who prospered in so many things.

Considering that rest occurs only in what subsists, the author wants us to understand from these words that the human soul subsists after death. To the objection that kings and princes of the kind he is describing perhaps do not rest but instead experience the torments of hell, or that life was useful to Job for obtaining merit, we must return to what was already said: Job is speaking from the perspective of the sensual part of the soul, expressing what he feels. This part only recognizes the physical goods and evils of the present moment.

Having shown why he should not have desired his life to be preserved after birth, Job consequently demonstrates why he should not have desired to be preserved in the womb and be born. In this, he explains what he said earlier: Why did I not die in the womb? (Job 3:11). Some die in the womb before the infusion of the rational soul, which alone is immortal. He expresses this by saying, Or why was I not like a hidden aborted birth? Such aborted fetuses have nothing of them that remains perpetually. Others, however, die after the infusion of the rational soul. These truly subsist in the soul after death, but they do not see the light of this world. To express this, Job says, or... as those conceived who never see the light—that is, the light of this present life. The word “or” here should be interpreted as “like” (sicut).

Job shows that he should have chosen this state for himself to avoid being subject to the evils of this life. He says, There—in the state of those who were conceived but never saw the light of day—the wicked cease from troubling. They cease from the trouble they caused by afflicting others, being cleansed from the evil of their fault. And there—in the state of the dead—the weary are at rest. The “weary” are warriors worn out from the struggle, and they are at rest, meaning they are free from such labor. As has been explained, he speaks here only of rest from the evils of this present life. This passage can also be understood as referring to the fatigue from any kind of work that uses one’s own strength.

He continues, There, those who were once chained will be at ease together, without their former pain, alongside those who held them bound. There, too, men weighed down by anguish and slavery do not hear the voice of the taskmaster. This agrees with Isaiah: How the oppressor has ceased; there is no more tribute! (Isaiah 14:4). He shows this is true by adding, The small and the great are there, on an equal basis. Smallness and greatness are measured in this life by the inequality of earthly prosperity; when this is removed, they return to their natural equality. Therefore, “the small and the great” should be interpreted as those who were unequal in this life due to earthly prosperity. It should be noted, however, that the difference between the small and the great in spiritual goods remains even there. But as has already been explained, he is not speaking about these goods now. There, the slave is free from his master, and so there will be no place for tribute or anything of that kind.

After Job has despised his own life in many ways, he now despises the life of the entire human race as a whole, both for those in prosperity and those in adversity. He begins by first discussing those who are more renowned. Note that two things are especially characteristic of living beings: to live and to know. Although knowing is in itself very delightful and noble, knowing things that cause affliction is painful. So he says, “Why was light given to him that is in misery?” as if to say: For what purpose does a person subject to unhappiness have the light of knowledge, since through it he can contemplate the evil that afflicts him? To live is noble because of the soul, but if the soul exists in bitterness, life itself is made bitter. So he says, “and life to the bitter of soul.” Here, the question “why is it given?” is understood to be repeated.

He shows that life is given to them uselessly because unhappy people desire the opposite. So he says, “Who long for death, which does not come,” that is, not as quickly as they would like. To show that those who are unhappy wait for death not by shrinking from it but by desiring it, he continues, “like those who dig for buried treasure,” spurred on by their great desire to find the treasure by digging. Because desire, when it is fulfilled, causes joy, he adds, “and are glad powerfully when they find the grave,” that is, when they see they have arrived at death, which provides a grave for them. Some think this passage refers to the fact that those who dig for treasure rejoice in finding a grave because they often found treasures in ancient tombs. But the first explanation is better.

Someone might object that while life is useless for the miserable, it is useful for those who enjoy prosperity. He removes this possibility, saying, “Why are they given to man whose way is hidden?” (referring to light and life). A person's way is hidden because they do not know how their present state of prosperity will end. As Proverbs says, “Laughter will be mixed with pain, and the end of joy is grief” (Proverbs 14:13), and Jeremiah, “Man’s road is not in his control” (Jeremiah 10:23). And Ecclesiastes asks, “What necessity is there for man to seek greater things for himself, when he does not know how to use things profitable for himself in this life? Or who can indicate what will be after him under the sun?” (Ecclesiastes 7:1).

He explains how a person's way is hidden on the earth, saying, “And God has hedged him in with darkness.” This is evident in many ways. First, concerning things that happened in the past or will happen in the future, Ecclesiastes says, “Many are the afflictions of man because he is ignorant of the past and the future or who can tell him how it will be?” (Ecclesiastes 8:6). Second, concerning what is near him, namely other people, 1 Corinthians says, “For who knows a man’s thoughts but the spirit of the man which is in him” (1 Corinthians 2:11). Concerning those things above a person, the last chapter of 1 Timothy says, “He (God) lives in inaccessible light, whom no man sees or is able to see” (1 Timothy 6:16), and in the Psalms, “He makes the darkness his hiding place” (Psalms 17:12). Finally, concerning those things which are below him, Ecclesiastes says, “All things are difficult, a man cannot explain them with speech” (Ecclesiastes 1:8). God is said to have hedged a person in with darkness because God gives them an intellect that is unable to understand these things.

After showing that human life is difficult due to misery and bitterness, Job applies this general truth to himself. In this, he expresses his own bitterness when he says, “Before I eat, I sigh.” For just as laughter is a sign of joy, sighing is a sign of a bitter soul. He shows the nature of his bitterness through the nature of his sighing. His sighing began readily: “Before I eat, I sigh.” And his sighing was continuous and great, so he adds, “and my wailing is like flood water.” For just as sighing is a sign of moderate sorrow, wailing is a sign of intense sorrow—a sorrow that can hardly be tolerated. This wailing is compared to the roaring of water, because swiftly moving water makes a loud sound. Thus, a person experiencing great affliction is provoked to wail by even a slight memory of their misery. He continues, “like flood water,” to emphasize the continuous nature of his bitterness, for floodwaters move without stopping and make a loud noise.

Because bitterness of soul arises from misery, after speaking of his soul's bitterness, he next addresses his misery, saying, “For the thing that I fear comes upon me.” Note that the human misery which provokes bitterness seems to consist of two things: first, harm to one's possessions or person, and second, dishonor. Regarding the first two, he says, “For the thing that I fear comes upon me,” meaning, the very things I fear are happening to me. This expression refers to the greatness of his loss and pain, for the more prudent a person is, the more they recognize what can happen to them in a time of adversity, even while they are still in a time of prosperity. So Sirach says, “In the day of prosperity, do not forget evil” . Job, who was a most prudent man, suffered great misery when the very evils he feared came upon him. As for the second, dishonor, he says, “and what I dread befalls me.” According to Aristotle, shame is “the fear of dishonor.” He shows by this, therefore, that he fell from great glory into many disgraces and dishonors.

A person often suffers misery and bitterness through their own fault. But this is not the case here, for Job says, “Have I not dissembled?” Understand that a person sins and thus deserves punishment from God in two ways. In one way, when provoked by injuries inflicted on him, he seeks revenge beyond what is his due, as Psalm 7 says, “If I repaid evil things to those requiting me, may I perish deservedly destitute at the hands of my enemies” (Psalms 7:5). He denies this possibility, saying, “Have I not dissembled?” regarding the injuries done to him. In another way, a person sins when they offend another first in words. He shows this is not the case here, saying, “Have I not been silent?” as if to say: I have not spoken abusive or injurious words. Nor has he offended in deeds, and he removes this from himself, saying, “Have I not been master of myself?” For “the impious are like the restless sea which cannot be quiet” (Isaiah 57:20). Although I am innocent, still “his wrath came upon me,” that is, the punishment given by God. For anger in God does not mean God is disturbed in His soul, but that He wills to punish someone. In this, Job recognizes that the adversities of this world do not happen without divine command.

To summarize what Job said in his lamentation, note that it contains three things.

1. He shows his own life is wearisome (“Cursed be the day of my birth,”Job 3:3).
2. He shows the greatness of the misery which he was suffering (“Before I eat, I sigh,”Job 3:24).
3. He shows his innocence (“Have I not dissembled,”Job 3:26 and so on).