TEXT [Commentary]

black diamond   3.   Life is miserable and brief (7:1-10)

1 “Is not all human life a struggle?

Our lives are like that of a hired hand,

2 like a worker who longs for the shade,

like a servant waiting to be paid.

3 I, too, have been assigned months of futility,

long and weary nights of misery.

4 Lying in bed, I think, ‘When will it be morning?’

But the night drags on, and I toss till dawn.

5 My body is covered with maggots and scabs.

My skin breaks open, oozing with pus.

6 “My days fly faster than a weaver’s shuttle.

They end without hope.

7 O God, remember that my life is but a breath,

and I will never again feel happiness.

8 You see me now, but not for long.

You will look for me, but I will be gone.

9 Just as a cloud dissipates and vanishes,

those who die[*] will not come back.

10 They are gone forever from their home—

never to be seen again.

NOTES

7:5 My body is covered with maggots. The terminology of the entire verse is obscure, with particular words given diverse meanings, though the resultant translations tend to be similar. The word rimmah [TH7415, ZH8231] usually denotes a maggot found in decaying flesh or food (e.g., Exod 16:24). In this verse, rimmah may be a metonymy for putrid and festering skin, or it may even be a homonym with the meaning rottenness, as indicated by an Arabic cognate. The idea of rotting flesh forms a suitable balance with the closing description, “oozing with pus” (Clines 1989:163).

and scabs. The words gush ‘apar [TH1487/6083, ZH1599/6760] lit. denote lumps or clods of dust, but it is not likely that this is a metaphor for “dirty scabs” (Dhorme 1984:100). More plausibly, gush is here used metaphorically as a medical term meaning pustules or the like, and the whole expression refers to rough, scabby skin (Driver 1969:73-74).

skin breaks open, oozing with pus. The word raga‘ [TH7280B, ZH8090] does not really mean “break open” (contra Driver 1969:75); it more likely means “harden” or “become scabby” (Delekat 1964:57). “Oozing with pus” translates the word ma’as [TH3988A, ZH4416], here a variant form of masas [TH4549, ZH5022] meaning “flow” (as in Ps 58:7), describing skin that oozes or festers. The whole verse, then, has two balanced lines: Job is covered with putrid flesh and scabs; his skin hardens and festers.

7:6 without hope. The word tiqwah [TH8615A, ZH9536] is a homonym; it means both thread and hope. Job’s life ends without hope, just as a weaver’s shuttle runs out of thread.

COMMENTARY [Text]

In this section, Job turns from his friends and directs his attention to God. Though he does not directly address God until verse 7, it is clear that his initial words are a reflection on his existence in the presence of God. Job now sees human existence in terms of his own experience: life is miserable and it has no significance; it is like a vapor—it is over before any good can happen.

Job compares the drudgery and struggle of life to the harsh experience of the laborer, the person who had no property and was dependent on his creditors whom he served. Such a person earned about enough in one day to live to the next day. Such a worker was occupied with thoughts of shade that would arrive with the evening and waited for the pay that would provide the day’s basic necessities. The ancient laborer’s experience went along like the lyric that says all we get each day is “another day older and deeper in debt.” Just so, Job was assigned months of futility and nights of misery. There was no progress and there was no relief. The nights that should have been for restoration and refreshment of life were worse than the days, for the pain allowed no sleep and the hours dragged on endlessly. Job could only long for the time when morning would come and his tossing would end. For Job, the ultimate reality of life is that it brings suffering rather than joy and futility rather than fulfillment.

The inevitable end of Job’s life was fast approaching. His life was both too long and too short. Though days dragged on endlessly, they were gone so quickly that there was no opportunity for the realization of his desires. Days passed by as quickly as the shuttle moving through the warp in the work of weaving cloth. Without warning, the thread (tiqwah) comes to an end and the weaving is over; in the same way the end of Job’s life was fast approaching and all hope (tiqwah) would abruptly be at an end. In a moment, Job would be gone from his place; no one would see him again—he would vanish like a cloud. The grave is the place of no return; once people have descended there, all memory of the place they had on earth is forgotten. This irony of life is heightened through a reflection on the psalms in 7:10; “never to be seen again” is more literally “his place will know him no more” and shares exactly the same words as Psalm 103:16b. In the psalm the brevity of human life is compared to the grass, which disappears when the wind blows over it. The psalm assures us that the merciful God remembers the brevity of our life. He understands that we are dust, and his loyalty to us will never end. For Job, the brevity of life is not a way to be reminded of God’s constant providence; his impending death is simply a reminder that his hopes for success are gone forever—that his life was like the passing wind.