Thread by @JamesBejon

THREAD: Another instalment from the book of Job.

Chapters 6–7. Job responds to Eliphaz.

TITLE: ‘Does a donkey bray when it has grass?’

#TwitCom: Studies in the #Bible, in #Job

For the previous instalment (i.e., Eliphaz’s speech), see below:

https://twitter.com/JamesBejon/status/1230241213095333890

SUMMARY:

Job’s speech divides into two halves.

In ch. 6, Job discusses Eliphaz’s treatment of him.

And, in ch. 7, he discusses God’s treatment of him.

Job is not very impressed with Eliphaz.

Initially, he responds to him with a modicum of patience (6.2–7).

But Job’s patience soon wears off and gives way to despair (6.8ff.).

And not without good reason.

As far as Eliphaz is concerned, Job’s attitude is all wrong. Job’s sorrowful state is unhealthy for him (5.2a),

as is his envy of other people’s ease (5.2b),…

…which seems an extraordinary thing to say.

Job has recently lost (in quick succession) his health, wealth, sons, and daughters. Can he not be forgiven if his words are a touch on the sorrowful side (6.3–4)?

Eliphaz wants to analyse the words of a man in immense pain as if they are carefully formulated theological statements.

In any case, comments like Eliphaz’s are not the way to help Job, as the rest of the chapter reveals.

‘Does the wild donkey bray when presented with grass?’, Job asks.

‘Can a tasteless diet be eaten without salt?’ (6.5–6).

Job’s questions refer to Eliphaz’s speech.

(For another connection between ‘words’ and the ‘palate’, cp. Job’s statement in 12.11, which is repeated verbatim by Elihu in 34.3.)

Job would have been happy to listen to Eliphaz if he had said something useful (cp. 6.24–27).

But Eliphaz merely offered Job a collection of platitudes—a string of ‘tasteless’ and ‘nutritionless’ words (6.6–7).

Job therefore continues to long for death (6.8–13).

He also becomes frustrated as he thinks about how badly his friends and brothers have treated him (6.14–30).

Job has never been a needy man (cp. 6.22–24 w. 29.2–25).

Yet now, when he finally *does* need people’s support, his brothers are nowhere to be seen (cp. 6.14–20 w. 42.11),

and his friends can offer him only criticism (6.21–27).

And why? Because they do not like the idea of a God whose actions they cannot predict (6.21).

The chaotic state of Job’s life does not square with his friends’ neat and tidy theological system (cp. 18.4).

And so Job’s friends have chosen to sacrifice his integrity (cp. צדק in 6.29) on the altar of theological convenience (6.28–30).

That is to say, they have branded Job a sinner in order to preserve their theology.

As such, Job’s friends have let him down badly.

When Job saw his friends in the distance, he assumed they had come to comfort him (2.12).

But, like a wadi which looked full from a distance yet turned out to be dry, Job’s friends promised much yet delivered little (or worse: 6.14–21).

In 7.1–10, Job turns his attention to God’s treatment of him.

More specifically, Job laments his condition in terms/imagery similar to ch. 3’s.

Job is like a slave who longs for night to fall so he can be free from the demands of his master (7.1–2).

In the past, Job has accomplished great things.

But life now passes him by, and his months are filled with ‘emptiness’ (7.3–6).

He is like a cloud—transitory and insubstantial (7.9–10; cp. the ‘early dew’ which evaporates in Hos. 6.4).

Then in 7.11, for the first time in the book, Job turns his gaze heavenwards and speaks directly to his Maker.

Job has spoken *about* God for long enough. It is time for him to speak *to* God.

‘Am I the sea?’, Job asks, ‘Or a monster of the sea over whom you need to appoint a guard?’ (שמר) (7.12).

‘Why, then, do you constantly examine me?’ (7.17–19).

At first blush, Job’s questions seem rather odd. Job is clearly not the sea, nor is he a chaotic sea-monster.

Yet God has in fact set a guard over Job (3.23), just as he has set a guard over the sea (38.8–11). And Job clearly doesn’t want to be guarded/watched in such a way.

He would rather be left alone.

God’s presence has made Job’s life a misery (7.13–16).

And Job cannot see why God is so bothered about the actions of mere mortals anyway anyway.

He wishes God would pay men less attention (cp. our notes on ‘What is man…?’ above), or better still forgive them (7.12–21).

Job’s inverted frame of mind is further brought out by means of the textual disconnect/incongruity between Job’s statements in 7.12–21 and those of the Psalmist.

🔹 Whereas the Psalmist’s cry (‘What is man for you to consider him?’) is an expression of delight (Psa. 8.5), Job’s is an expression of regret (7.17),

and the term ‘consider’ (lit. ‘set your heart on’) is uncomfortably reminiscent of God’s invitation to Satan to ‘consider’ Job.

🔹 Whereas the Psalmist takes delight in the fact God ‘cares’ for him (פקד) (Psa. 8.6), Job is grieved by the fact God ‘visits’ him (פקד) each day (7.18).

🔹 And, whereas the Psalmist rejoices in the fact God is his ‘guardian’ (שמר) (Psa. 121.4) and ‘keeper’ (נֹצֵר) (Psa. 31.24), Job resents the fact God has set a ‘guard’ (שמר) over him (7.12) is man’s ‘keeper’ (נֹצֵר) (7.18–20).

SOME BRIEF COMMENTARY:

Job’s second speech is fairly bleak. But it is not as bleak as his first, and contains further seeds/signs of hope.

For one thing, Job has rejected Eliphaz’s (non)-answer to his questions, which is a good start.

And even Job’s sense of hopelessness is not an entirely negative thing.

A self-assured man might have thought he could pull himself up by his bootstraps. Job, however, sees his position as hopeless precisely because his confidence lies in *God*, who he thinks has abandoned him.

Furthermore, Job begins to consider the possibility (or at least the desirability) of his resurrection.

Particularly noteworthy is his statement in 7.8. ‘The eye of him who sees me will behold me no more’, Job says. ‘Even while your eyes are on me, I will disappear out of existence’ (אינני).

Job finds it incongruous for him one moment to be watched by the eternal God and the next disappear. And rightly so.

When the eternal God enters into a (covenantal) relationship with a person, they continue to exist as long as God continues to exist.

Indeed, that is precisely the logic Jesus employs in Matt. 22.

The resurrection, Jesus says, is guaranteed by God’s title as ‘the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob’, and fact God is not a God of ‘the dead’.

Equally worthy of note are some of the questions raised by Job towards the end of ch. 7.

Why, Job asks, is the God of heaven and earth so bothered about what man does? What difference does it make to him?

And why would it be so difficult for God simply to forgive (לשאת) man’s sin?

That Job is mystified by these questions is no surprise, since they find their ultimate answer in the incarnation and crucifixion of Christ.

Man is not merely ‘another creature’ on the scala naturae. He is God’s appointed image-bearer.

And, when God took on human flesh, he radically demonstrated the worth and glory of humanity.

What man does is, therefore, of great importance—sin included—,

which is why it is no trivial matter for God to forgive man’s sin.

To forgive sin (לשאת עון cp. Mic. 7.18) God will ultimately have to *bear* sin (לשאת עון cp. Lev. 16.22, John 1.29!)—a mystery which Job cannot even begin to grasp.

Next up in our walk through the book of Job is Bildad’s first speech (ch. 8).

But first, a brief reflection to close.

Job is clearly unimpressed with Eliphaz’s counsel.

Part of the reason is revealed in 6.26. ‘Should you really argue over *words*?’, Job asks.

Job is a desparate and broken man. Yet Eliphaz wants to dissect the words of his lament to make sure they meet up to his expectations.

It is a heartless way to treat anyone, much less a friend.

And, consequently, Eliphaz’s speech makes absolutely no impact on Job.

Job does not respond to a word of it (or flag up a single hole in Eliphaz’s arguments).

It’s as if he hasn’t even *listened* to what Eliphaz has said—which he may well not have done.

When we fail to interact with people in a sympathetic manner, or fail them as friends, they are unlikely to listen to us,

no matter how brilliant our arguments might be (and Eliphaz’s are not so brilliant).

Especially sad is the reason Eliphaz abandons Job: because of his theology.

Yes, theology matters. But friendships matter too. And a sound theology will reflect that fact.

THE END.