Thomas Aquinas Commentary Job 6

Eliphaz had clearly noted three things in Job’s lament: despair, because Job seemed to desire non-existence; impatience or excessive sorrow, because of the sighs and moans he endured; and presumption, because he asserted his innocence. The entire discourse of Eliphaz in the previous chapters addressed these three points. He proposed the frailty of the human condition, among other things, to demonstrate that Job was subject to sin and should have accepted his misfortunes.

Job begins his response from this point. It is certain that because of human frailty, no person is free from sin, however just he may appear. Nevertheless, in just men, sins are not grave and mortal but minor and venial, occurring as a result of negligence or deception. If what Eliphaz tried to prove were true—that is, that the adversities of this life are the proper punishments for sin—it would follow that people would suffer grave adversities for grave sins and light adversities for light sins. Thus, just men would never be subject to grave adversities, which is clearly false.

Job, therefore, proposes this argument against the reasoned discussion of Eliphaz, saying: Would that my sins for which I have deserved anger and the calamity which I suffer were weighed in a balance. It is as if to say: I cannot claim there are no sins in me, yet I am confident there is no mortal sin, only venial sins. If I deserved this kind of anger from God as punishment for such sins, then my calamity and my sin should be weighed on the scales of justice so that one corresponds to the other in equal measure. But the adversity appears to be much greater, and so he continues that it would be heavy like the sands of the sea. This means that if the opinion of Eliphaz were true—that the adversities of this world are inflicted only for sin—this calamity could not be equaled by his sins. Since it is apparent that many wicked men suffer only light adversities, Job’s sins seem next to nothing in comparison with his suffering.

From this, Job goes on to excuse the sadness he had expressed in words, concluding that his pain was caused by the magnitude of his suffering: And so my words were full of bitterness. He adds that there are two causes of pain: things one has already endured, and things one is afraid one will endure. First, he assigns the cause of his pain to what he had already endured, saying, Because the arrows of God are stuck fast in me. In this, he shows that he had been afflicted unexpectedly, for an arrow comes suddenly from far away. He shows the greatness of the wound when he says, their pain drains my spirit; that is, the pain has not permitted him to breathe, but totally robs him of any strength and consolation he might have had. Then he shows the cause of his pain from what he was afraid he would suffer, saying, God’s terror stands arrayed against me. For the afflicted are usually consoled by the hope of a better state, but when a person fears similar or greater afflictions after one has already come, he seems to have no consolation left.

An objection could be made: you certainly have cause for suffering, but you should not burst out with words of pain because of it. Against this objection, Job responds with examples found in other animals. For man is like other animals in his sentient nature, and so those things which sentient nature naturally involves must be present in man, as in other animals. What is natural cannot be totally suppressed. In other animals, one finds that affliction of the heart is expressed with the voice. He notes this when he says, Does a wild donkey bray when it finds grass or an ox low when it stands in a stable full of fodder? He implies the answer is no. The donkey brays and the ox lows when they lack necessary food. It seems natural, therefore, for animals to vocally express their inner torment.

On the other hand, someone might concede that it is natural to vocally express conceived pain but argue, as the Stoics did, that it is not appropriate for a wise person to feel sadness in his heart for any reason. Job demonstrates this to be against our sentient nature, for our senses cannot help but be repulsed by what is unsuitable and harmful. So he asks, Can tasteless food be eaten without salt? He implies the answer is no, because such flavorless foods are not able to please the sense of taste. Similarly, the human heart cannot willingly tolerate things that are not pleasant, much less things that are bitter and harmful. So he continues, Or can someone taste what, once tasted, brings death? As if to say, no. Just as this is impossible for the exterior senses, so it is impossible that what is perceived internally as harmful should be accepted without sadness.

Although it is true that a wise person suffers sadness, his reason is nevertheless not overcome by it. Job consequently shows that even though he suffered sadness, he still took the greatest care and caution to protect himself from being led by it into doing something evil. To avoid this, he preferred death. He expresses this by saying, What my soul did not want to touch before has now become my food in anguish. What his soul formerly abhorred, it now desires as if it were pleasant.

He shows this same thing when he asks, Who will grant that my prayer find fulfillment? He shows that this prayer is made not only with his lips but also from the bottom of his heart when he continues, and may God grant me my hope! He then expresses the content of the prayer, saying, May He who began this—that is, to afflict me—destroy me in death. He continues, May He free His hand and cut me down. The hand of God expresses the divine power by which God has afflicted him. God, in a way, binds His hand by His mercy and will when He does not afflict. However, God frees His hand, in a sense, when the divine punishment that strikes a person is directed toward killing him.

Since Job said that the things he formerly did not want to touch had now become his food, he shows this must be understood to mean that death, which was once abhorrent to him, has now become something pleasant. So he continues, This thought, at least, may give me comfort: that in afflicting me with pain, He will not spare me—that is, He will not withdraw His hand but will lead me to death. He shows why he hopes for this when he continues, And I will not deny the Holy One’s decrees.

The “decrees” are the judgments and sentences of God by which He afflicted him. Job feared that he might be led into impatience by his many afflictions, so that his reason could no longer restrain his sadness. Indeed, it is the nature of impatience that reason becomes so dominated by sadness that one contradicts divine judgments. If, however, someone suffers sadness in the sensitive part of his soul, but his reason remains in conformity with the divine will, this is not the fault of impatience. Therefore, Eliphaz accused Job without reason when he said, And now that the scourge has come upon you, you have grown weary (Job 4:5). For although Job was sad, he had not yet given way.

Next, Job gives his frailty as the reason he fears he might be led to contradict the decrees of the Holy One. This kind of fear can be overcome for two reasons. First, if the strength of one’s reason is so great that it cannot be overcome in any way. This is the case for those whose free will has been confirmed in grace. But Job did not feel this kind of strength in himself, so he asks, But what kind of strength do I have to resist? Second, fear could be removed if one only had to tolerate trials and sadness for a short time. To show this is not the case for him, he says, When will the end come, so that I can conduct myself patiently? He seems to mean: What end has been set for my trials so that I can remain patient while I wait for it?

To explain this, he says, Is my strength the strength of a stone? For a stone has strength without feeling, but a man has strength along with the emotional experience of harmful things. So he continues, Or is my flesh bronze?—that is, without feeling. However strong a mortal man’s reason may be, he must still experience the feeling of pain in his flesh. By this, he refutes the rebuke of Eliphaz, who criticized the very existence of sadness in Blessed Job. For although Blessed Job had strength of mind, he still had the sensation of pain in his flesh, which causes sadness.

At the same time, he refutes the opinion of the Stoics, who said that a wise person is not sad. Eliphaz seems to have shared their opinion. Blessed Job intends to defend the position that a wise person is truly sad but is zealous to use reason to avoid being led into doing anything improper. This is what the Peripatetics taught.

In the preceding verses, Job had shown that while he felt pain and spoke from that pain, he did so rationally and was not carried away by his suffering. However, a person suffering adversity can sometimes guard against pain by finding comfort and help, either from within or from others. To show that his lament was rational, Job now demonstrates that he was lacking this kind of help.

First, he shows that he lacked any remedy from his own resources, stating that he could not help himself. Even if he had only lost some of his possessions, he might have tolerated it without sadness if he could have recovered them and avenged the injury done to him. But he was unable to do this, having lost all his wealth, his children, and even his physical health.

Furthermore, many things we cannot do ourselves, we can accomplish through friends. So, second, Job shows that he was also deprived of his friends' help when he says that those he looked to for aid—his family and servants—had deserted him. To show they are blameworthy for this, he continues by saying that whoever withholds mercy from a neighbor, especially in a time of sorrow, forsakes the fear of the Lord. This "fear" is the reverence due to God, in whom and because of whom we love our neighbor. As John says, Whoever does not love his brother whom he does see, how can he love God whom he cannot see? (1 John 4:20).

Next, Job shows his relatives have abandoned him, saying, My brothers have passed me by. He uses the analogy of a group walking together; if one falls into a ditch, the others pass by, abandoning him. They might be excused if they left only after becoming weary from trying to help, despairing of success. But Job shows that these men are without excuse because they deserted him immediately and suddenly. He illustrates this by comparing them to a torrent, like a stream coursing through the valleys, which moves very quickly.

So they will not think they can do this without consequence, Job adds, Those who fear frost will be covered by snow. This is to say that a person who fails in justice and mercy out of fear of a lesser danger exposes himself to even greater dangers. Likewise, Job’s relatives, who passed him by, unwilling to show compassion, will themselves endure suffering and loss. He continues, showing their future danger will be without remedy: At the time when they will be broken up—that is, when they face dangers—they will perish completely, and they will vanish from their place as though dried up.

He expands on the metaphor of snow. Hard, frozen snow does not melt with the first heat. But snow that is not yet frozen melts and turns to slush as soon as the sun's rays touch it. In the same way, their prosperity will vanish at the first assault of adversity, just as slushy snow disappears in the first heat.

Job reveals the cause of this, saying, The paths they follow are tangled up. Something entangled twists and turns back on itself. So it is with the paths of those who seek only their own advantage from relatives and friends. They pretend to be friends in times of prosperity but pass by in times of adversity. Those who deceitfully seek their own gain often fail to get what they hope for, and so Job adds, They will walk in emptiness. People are said to walk in emptiness when they do not reach their destination. Not only will their hope be fruitless, but the opposite will happen to them, for he adds, and will perish—that is, they will be totally destroyed.

Therefore, Job had no support from himself, his servants, or his relatives. He then demonstrates that he also had no help from his other friends. He says, Look for the paths to Teman, the roads to Saba—lands where he seemed to have his greatest friends, as Eliphaz himself had come from Teman. He tells them to wait for a short while to see if any friends come by these roads to bring him help. But they will see no one, because, as Job says, They are embarrassed to come to him. This is because I hoped for them, meaning there was a time when he could have reasonably hoped for their help. People who do not want to help are often ashamed to visit someone if they think they will be asked for aid. Some did come, but they were covered with shame because they did not give him the help they knew they should have.

Job then turns to his friends. It is not surprising that others refuse to help, since even you, who seem wiser, fail to do so. He continues, Now you have come to see me and, in only seeing my disease, you are afraid. Perhaps you feel obligated to help, but do not be afraid, for I have not asked you for anything. I have not requested money, as when he asks, Have I said: Bring me and give me a gift from your property? Nor have I sought your aid in war: Free me from the clutches of an enemy, or ransom me from the hand of the mighty? Nor have I sought instruction from you in either speculative matters (Teach me, and I will say no more) or practical actions (and if perhaps I have been ignorant, instruct me).

Not only do you offer no help, but you afflict me further with your words. Job asks, Why do you slander true ideas?—referring to the truths in his initial lament, which Eliphaz seemed to rebuke. To show that their criticism is inexcusable, he refutes all the reasons that might justify a critic’s conduct.

1. The first is when someone in greater authority criticizes another for a fault. He refutes this, saying, For none of you can accuse me.
2. The second is when someone criticizes another for their own good, not to make the situation worse. He addresses this, saying, You compose speeches only to rebuke me, and not for my good. You join fine words together, carefully composing them so they do not seem lightly spoken.
3. The third is when someone strengthens their arguments with effective reasons. He excludes this, saying, You cast your words to the wind. In other words, their words are empty because they lack the support of reason.
4. The fourth is when someone criticizes another at a time and in a state where they might become better, not worse, as a result. But if someone criticizes another who is perplexed in soul and prone to anger, it seems they desire not their improvement but their ruin. Thus, Job says, You seize the orphan, and strive to ruin your friend. He calls himself an orphan because, in his sadness, he was lacking help.

So that no one will think he is afraid to argue with them or lacks confidence in his case, Job continues, Despite this, finish what you began to say, so that the truth can come to light from mutual debate. He goes on, Lend an ear (that is, listen) and see (that is, consider) if I am lying.

Job then addresses the impediments to finding truth through debate.

1. The first impediment is when someone refuses to hear what their adversary is saying.
2. The second is when someone responds to what they have heard in a loud and abusive way. To prevent this, Job says, Answer, please, without quarreling. To quarrel, as St. Ambrose defines it, is to attack the truth while relying on shouting.
3. The third impediment is when someone in a debate aims not at truth but at victory or glory, as happens in legal cases or sophistical arguments. To counter this, Job says, In speaking, judge what is right—that is, concede what seems true and deny what seems false.

If you do this, Job says, You will find no evil on my tongue—meaning nothing contrary to the justice owed to a neighbor—nor stupidity in my mouth—meaning nothing against the wisdom by which one thinks correctly about God. For Job intended to defend and prove the truth regarding both divine and human matters.