Thomas Aquinas Commentary Job 6:1-12

"Then Job answered and said, Oh that my vexation were but weighed, And all my calamity laid in the balances! For now it would be heavier than the sand of the seas: Therefore have my words been rash. For the arrows of the Almighty are within me, The poison whereof my spirit drinketh up: The terrors of God do set themselves in array against me. Doth the wild ass bray when he hath grass? Or loweth the ox over his fodder? Can that which hath no savor be eaten without salt? Or is there any taste in the white of an egg? My soul refuseth to touch [them]; They are as loathsome food to me. Oh that I might have my request; And that God would grant [me] the thing that I long for! Even that it would please God to crush me; That he would let loose his hand, and cut me off! And be it still my consolation, Yea, let me exult in pain that spareth not, That I have not denied the words of the Holy One. What is my strength, that I should wait? And what is mine end, that I should be patient? Is my strength the strength of stones? Or is my flesh of brass?" — Job 6:1-12 (ASV)

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.