TEXT [Commentary]

  4.   Mortals are no match for God (13:28–14:22)

28 I waste away like rotting wood,

like a moth-eaten coat.

CHAPTER 14

1 “How frail is humanity!

How short is life, how full of trouble!

2 We blossom like a flower and then wither.

Like a passing shadow, we quickly disappear.

3 Must you keep an eye on such a frail creature

and demand an accounting from me?

4 Who can bring purity out of an impure person?

No one!

5 You have decided the length of our lives.

You know how many months we will live,

and we are not given a minute longer.

6 So leave us alone and let us rest!

We are like hired hands, so let us finish our work in peace.

7 “Even a tree has more hope!

If it is cut down, it will sprout again

and grow new branches.

8 Though its roots have grown old in the earth

and its stump decays,

9 at the scent of water it will bud

and sprout again like a new seedling.

10 “But when people die, their strength is gone.

They breathe their last, and then where are they?

11 As water evaporates from a lake

and a river disappears in drought,

12 people are laid to rest and do not rise again.

Until the heavens are no more, they will not wake up

nor be roused from their sleep.

13 “I wish you would hide me in the grave[*]

and forget me there until your anger has passed.

But mark your calendar to think of me again!

14 Can the dead live again?

If so, this would give me hope through all my years of struggle,

and I would eagerly await the release of death.

15 You would call and I would answer,

and you would yearn for me, your handiwork.

16 For then you would guard my steps,

instead of watching for my sins.

17 My sins would be sealed in a pouch,

and you would cover my guilt.

18 “But instead, as mountains fall and crumble

and as rocks fall from a cliff,

19 as water wears away the stones

and floods wash away the soil,

so you destroy people’s hope.

20 You always overpower them, and they pass from the scene.

You disfigure them in death and send them away.

21 They never know if their children grow up in honor

or sink to insignificance.

22 They suffer painfully;

their life is full of trouble.”

NOTES

13:28 I waste away. The Heb. has the third person “he wastes away,” apparently in reference to mortals born of a woman (14:1). Though the Gr. does have the first person, it is best explained as an adaptation of the more difficult Heb. Some translations supply the word “man” for the pronoun “he” (NIV, RSV). Though it is often proposed that this verse follow 14:2 (cf. Habel 1985:226; de Wilde 1981:72), it introduces a foreign image to that context (Driver 1921:2.87). Fohrer (1989:253-54) suggests the abrupt shift is because the poet has adopted the image of the moth from typical poetic expression (Isa 50:9; 51:8). The style is unusual, but the verse is a transition to Job’s thoughts on the fleeting life of a mortal spent under God’s watchful eye (cf. 13:27; 14:3).

14:6 leave us alone and let us rest. The verb khadal [TH2308, ZH2532] means to cease or desist. Job has used this verb in the imperative to ask that God leave him alone (7:16), and on a second occasion (10:20) the Qere reading in the MT calls for an emendation to an imperative for the same expression (see note on 10:20). Though the indicative here might be provided with an object to say “let one cease [to complain or to suffer],” it seems better to provide an imperative as suggested by the Masoretes in 10:20: “let them alone.”

let us finish our work. Translations vary between “enjoy” (RSV, NRSV, TEV, CEV) and “accomplish” (KJV), “fulfill” (NASB), or “put in time” (NIV). There are two verbs with the same spelling (ratsah [TH7521/7521A, ZH8354/8355]); the first means “enjoy,” the second means “count” or “pay off” (Lev 26:41, 43). It may be that both verbs derive from the basic meaning of receiving a due (Jenni and Westermann 1976:2.810-811), either in the positive sense of a type of inheritance (a benefit or enjoyment) or the negative sense of an obligation that must be reckoned (counted). In at least two instances, ratsah is used in the second sense with the meaning “complete” (Lev 26:34; 2 Chr 36:21)—that is, to count to completion or count fully. “Counting the hours day by day” (NEB) is “an impossible translation of the Hebrew” (Clines 1989:284). The request may be that God would allow humans to complete the necessary work of the day like a hired hand (NLT). In a more ironical sense, the request would be that God should allow at least the kind of enjoyment a worker receives from daily toil. Either thought follows v. 5 logically; the same two thoughts are present in 10:20.

14:10 their strength is gone. The correct meaning of khalash [TH2522, ZH2764] is to become weak (cf. Joel 3:10c); “waste away” (KJV) treats the Heb. as if “any word may mean anything” (Driver and Gray 1921:2.90). “Lies prostrate” (NASB) and “laid low” (RSV, NRSV, NIV) are figurative interpretations that somewhat miss the point; “he disappears” (NEB) is based on an Arabic homonym and is not relevant here. The contrast is between the impotence of humans in death with the ability of a tree to revive in new life.

14:12 will not wake up. “Until the very sky splits open” (NEB) is based on a speculative second root for quts [TH6973A, ZH7763] (Koehler and Baumgartner 3:1019); the common word qits [TH6974, ZH7810] (awake) is most appropriate here.

14:18 but instead, as mountains fall. The contrast of reality to the ideal is given with a strong adversative “but” (’ulam [TH199, ZH219]) in 14:18. The adversative confirms the correctness of taking the previous verses (14:16-17) as describing the hypothetical ideal introduced in 14:15 (see NLT) rather than a description of Job’s present reality.

14:20 always overpower. Though the word netsakh [TH5331, ZH5905] commonly means “forever,” it may be used for the superlative. In this verse it logically would say, “you utterly overpower,” or “you overpower him once for all” (NIV), a sense particularly fitting for death.

COMMENTARY [Text]

As Job contemplated the future of his life before God, it seemed that a common proverb abruptly shifted his thinking toward the human experience (13:28). The truth is that all people perish like moth-eaten cloth (cf. Pss 39:11; 102:26). In Psalm 39, the psalmist lamented the chastening hand of God, which was taking away everything that was dear to him; all human life is a mere breath. In a similar manner in Psalm 102, the psalmist lamented that his strength was gone and his time cut short, but he realized that even the earth and heavens must perish, so humans, like a garment, grow old and pass on. Job described humans as overcome by God’s power once for all (14:20); he makes them old and then sends them off.

Having abruptly introduced this thought, switching from how God always watched him to how everyone wears out as if in a state of decay, Job directed his thoughts to mortals (14:1), those born of woman. Human life is like a flower (Pss 90:5-6; 103:15), the time of human life is like a fleeting shadow (14:2). Given the frail nature of humanity, why should God watch them so closely?

Humans are helpless to change their condition; there are none that can make themselves pure (14:4). Though the language is that of cultic purity, where cleansing could be possible, it is used here for the morality that the cultic symbols represented. As a righteous man, Job found himself helpless before God, for he could not change who he was. It seemed that all God had done was fix a term of service for frail humans, during which time they must pay their dues.

Job here appeared to have given up on the idea of vindicating himself before God in a court setting. The trials of God had overcome him, and he simply pled that God look away, that he desist—a plea he had uttered before (cf. 7:16; 10:20). Let the laborers complete their term and enjoy what respite they may find in this frail and fleeting life. In a touching metaphor, Job compared human life to that of a tree. A tree has tremendous power of revival. If you cut it down, the stump will grow. Even if the stump gets old in the ground, at a whiff of water it will revive and send out its shoots. Humans are the converse. Once they die, they are totally helpless. In ancient times, death was often depicted as a state of total weakness, a continuation and amplification of that weakening condition that leads to the death of the body. However, Job had a different idea in mind. When a tree is cut down, it retains an unseen vitality; while humans in contrast are utterly powerless—their weakness is one from which no revival is possible. They are like water that evaporates, like a river that has dried up. Verse 11 is a quote of Isaiah 19:5, but with a different application; in Isaiah the drying up of the waters was a judgment against Egypt, as part of God working out his deliverance. Job used this verse to describe a judgment against all humanity; unlike the tree, human life cannot revive any more than the sea or the river can retrieve water that has evaporated.

The author of Job was not contemplating the possibility of a resurrection in another kind of body to another kind of world. Such ideas were familiar to him, but they did not address his problem, which was the condition of human life now in this world. His question was how to deal with the struggle of this life in the time of this life (14:1-3). In a beautiful diversion, the speech of Job turned to contemplate the possibility of a totally different kind of life in this world. Suppose human life were more like a tree—that one could die but then have hope of coming back to life again. God could set the term, and when the time of wrath had passed he would remember and there would be another chance. Job could then readily endure his struggle, and he would wait for the time of his release, when he would enjoy renewed fellowship with God. Then he would call and God would answer; this would not be in the negative sense of a call to trial (cf. 13:22) but in the positive sense of the fellowship Job desired. God would then be pleased with his own work done in such exquisite wonder (cf. 10:8-12), and instead of attacking Job as if he had made him for some sinister purpose, God would guard over his every step. Instead of constantly being vigilant for Job’s sin, God would seal it up in a pouch. Sealing up stones in a pouch as a method of record-keeping is well known from ancient times (Pope 1965:109-111). God would not seal up sins for purposes of retaliation. The friends might have smeared (tapal [TH2950, ZH3260]) Job with lies (13:4), but God would cover over (tapal) Job’s sin so it would not victimize him (14:17).

But Job lamented that human life is not like that of a tree. When Job asks, “Can the dead live again?” (14:14), the text presents us with the hope of new life assuming a condition contrary to fact. If it were true, then Job could wait through all his struggles. But it was not true from Job’s perspective. Thus, Job said that, just as mountains fall and stones erode so God deadens the hope of another life in this world. If even heaven and earth will pass away, how much more so will human life, which depends on them. God overpowers, humans grow old, and they die. They never live to see the achievements of their children or to share with them in their ignominy. While in their body, they have pain; while they have breath, they have sorrow (in striking parallel lines the poet refers to the totality of the human person, both body and desire). The reality of life in this world cannot be altered.