A verse by verse commentary on Job 23 dealing with Job's speech on the mystery of how God is dealing with him.

1. JOB 23 COMME TARY
EDITED BY GLE PEASE
Job
1 Then Job replied:
GILL, "Then Job answered and said. In reply to Eliphaz; for though he does not
direct his discourse to him, nor take any notice of his friends; yet, as a proof of his
innocence, against his and their accusations and charges, he desires no other than to
have his cause laid before God himself, by whom he had no doubt he should be
acquitted; and, contrary to their notions, he shows in this chapter, that he, a righteous
man, was afflicted by God, according to his unchangeable decrees; and, in the next, that
wicked men greatly prosper; so that what he herein says may be considered as a
sufficient answer to Eliphaz and his friends; and after which no more is said to him by
them, excepting a few words dropped by Bildad.
K&D 1-5, "Since ‫י‬ ִ‫ר‬ ְ‫מ‬ (for which the lxx reads ᅚκ τοሞ χειρός µου, ‫;מידי‬ Ew. ‫,מידו‬ from his
hand) usually elsewhere signifies obstinacy, it appears that Job_23:2 ought to be
explained: My complaint is always accounted as rebellion (against God); but by this
rendering Job_23:2 requires some sort of expletive, in order to furnish a connected
thought: although the hand which is upon me stifles my groaning (Hirz.); or, according
to another rendering of the ‫ל‬ ַ‫:ע‬ et pourtant mes gémissements n'égalent pas mes
souffrances (Renan. Schlottm.). These interpretations are objectionable on account of
the artificial restoration of the connection between the two members of the verse, which
they require; they lead one to expect ‫י‬ ִ‫ד‬ָ‫י‬ְ‫ו‬ (as a circumstantial clause: lxx, Cod. Vat. καᆳ ᅧ
χεᆳρ αᆒτοሞ). As the words stand, it is to be supposed that the definition of time, ‫ּום‬ ַ‫ם־ה‬ַ
(even to-day still, as Zec_9:12), belongs to both divisions of the verse. How, then, is ‫מרי‬
to be understood? If we compare Job_7:11; Job_10:1, where ‫,מר‬ which is combined with
‫,שׂיח‬ signifies amarum = amartiduo, it is natural to take ‫מרי‬ also in the signification
amaritudo, acerbitas (Targ., Syr., Jer.); and this is also possible, since, as is evident
from Exo_23:21, comp. Zec_12:10, the verbal forms ‫מרר‬ and ‫מרה‬ run into one another, as
they are really cognates.
(Note: ‫מרר‬ and ‫מרה‬ both spring from the root ‫מר‬ [vid. supra, p. 396, note], with the
primary signification stringere, to beat, rub, draw tight. Hence Arab. mârrâ, to touch

2. lightly, smear upon (to go by, over, or through, to move by, etc.), but also stringere
palatum, of an astringent taste, strong in taste, to be bitter, opp. Arab. ᐓalâ, soft and
mild in taste, to be sweet, as in another direction ‫,חלה‬ to be loose, weak, sick, both
from the root Arab. ᐓl in ᐓalla, solvit, laxavit. From the signification to be tight come
amarra, to stretch tight, istamarra, to stretch one's self tight, to draw one's self out in
this state of tension - of things in time, to continue unbroken; mirreh, string, cord;
‫,מרה‬ to make and hold one's self tight against any one, i.e., to be obstinate: originally
of the body, as Arab. mârrâ, tamârrâ, to strengthen themselves in the contest against
one another; then of the mind, as Arab. mârâ, tamârâ, to struggle against anything,
both outwardly by contradiction and disputing, and inwardly by doubt and unbelief.
- Fl.)
But it is more satisfactory, and more in accordance with the relation of the two divisions
of the verse, if we keep to the usual signification of ‫י‬ ִ‫ר‬ ְ‫;מ‬ not, however, understanding it of
obstinacy, revolt, rebellion (viz., in the sense of the friends), but, like moreh, 2Ki_14:26)
which describes the affliction as stiff-necked, obstinate), of stubbornness, defiance,
continuance in opposition, and explain with Raschi: My complaint is still always
defiance, i.e., still maintains itself in opposition, viz., against God, without yielding
(Hahn, Olsh.: unsubmitting); or rather: against such exhortations to penitence as those
which Eliphaz has just addressed to him. In reply to these, Job considers his complain to
be well justified even to-day, i.e., even now (for it is not, with Ewald, to be imagined that,
in the mind of the poet, the controversy extends over several days, - an idea which would
only be indicated by this one word).
In Job_23:2 he continues the same thought under a different form of expression. My
hand lies heavy on my groaning, i.e., I hold it immoveably fast (as Fleischer proposes to
take the words); or better: I am driven to a continued utterance of it.
(Note: The idea might also be: My hand presses my groaning back (because it
would be of no use to me); but Job_23:2 is against this, and the Arab. kamada, to
restrain inward pain, anger, etc. by force (e.g., mât kemed, he died from suppressed
rage or anxiety), has scarcely any etymological connection with ‫).כבד‬
By this interpretation ydy retains its most natural meaning, manus mea, and the
connection of the two members of the verse without any particle is best explained. On
the other hand, all modern expositors, who do not, as Olsh., at once correct ‫ידי‬ into ‫,ידו‬
explain the suffix as objective: the hand, i.e., the destiny to which I have to submit,
weighs upon my sighing, irresistibly forcing it out from me. Then Job_23:2 is related to
Job_23:2 as a confirmation; and if, therefore, a particle is to be supplied, it is ‫י‬ ִⅴ (Olsh.)
and no other. Thus, even the Targ. renders it machatiy, plaga mea. Job's affliction is
frequently traced back to the hand of God, Job_19:21, comp. Job_1:11; Job_2:5; Job_
13:21; and on the suffix used objectively (pass.) we may compare Job_23:14, ‫י‬ ִ ֻ‫;ח‬ Job_
20:29, ‫ּו‬‫ר‬ ְ‫מ‬ ִ‫;א‬ and especially Job_34:6, ‫י‬ ִ ִ‫.ח‬ The interpretation: the hand upon me is heavy
above my sighing, i.e., heavier than it (Ramban, Rosenm., Ges., Schlottm., Renan), also
accords with the connection. ‫ל‬ ַ‫ע‬ can indeed be used in this comparative meaning, Exo_

3. 16:5; Ecc_1:16; but ‫על‬ ‫יד‬ ‫כבדה‬ is an established phrase, and commonly used of the burden
of the hand upon any one, Psa_32:4 (comp. Job_33:7, in the division in which Elihu is
introduced; and the connection with ‫ל‬ ֶ‫,א‬ 1Sa_5:6, and ‫ם‬ ָ‫,שׁ‬ 1Sa_5:11); and this usage of
the language renders the comparative rendering very improbable. But it is also
improbable that “my hand” is = the hand that is upon me, since it cannot be shown that
‫יד‬ was directly used in the sense of plaga; even the Arabic, among the many turns of
meaning which it gives to Arab. yd, does not support this, and least of all would an Arab
conceive of Arab. ydâ passively, plaga quam patior. Explain, therefore: his complain
now, as before, offers resistance to the exhortation of the friends, which is not able to
lessen it, his (Job's) hand presses upon his lamentation so that it is forced to break forth,
but - without its justification being recognised by men. This thought urges him on to the
wish that he might be able to pour forth his complain directly before God. ‫ן‬ ֵ ִ‫י־י‬ ִ‫מ‬ is at one
time followed by an accusative (Job_14:4; Job_29:2; Job_31:31, Job_31:35, to which
belongs also the construction with the inf., Job_11:5), at another by the fut., with or
without Waw (as here, Job_23:3, Job_6:8; Job_13:5; Job_14:13; Job_19:23), and at
another by the perf., with or without Waw (as here, Job_23:3: utinam noverim, and
Deu_5:26). And ‫י‬ ִ ְ‫ע‬ ַ‫ד‬ָ‫י‬ is, as in Job_32:22, joined with the fut.: scirem (noverim) et
invenirem instead of possim invenire eum (‫ּו‬‫א‬ ְ‫צ‬ ָ‫מ‬ ְ‫,)ל‬ Ges. §142, 3, c. If he but knew how to
reach Him (God), could attain to His throne; ‫ה‬ָ‫כוּנ‬ ְ (everywhere from ‫וּן‬ⅴ, not from ‫ן‬ ַ‫כ‬ ָ )
signifies the setting up, i.e., arrangement (Eze_43:11) or establishment (Nah_2:10) of a
dwelling, and the thing itself which is set out and established, here of the place where
God's throne is established. Having attained to this, he would lay his cause (instuere
causam, as Job_13:18, comp. Job_33:5) before Him, and fill his mouth with arguments
to prove that he has right on his side (‫ּות‬‫ח‬ ָ‫ּוכ‬ , as Psa_38:15, of the grounds of defence, or
proof that he is in the right and his opponent in the wrong). In Job_23:5 we may
translate: I would, or: I should like (to learn); in the Hebrew, as in cognoscerem, both
are expressed; the substance of Job_23:5 makes the optative rendering more natural. He
would like to know the words with which He would meet him,
(Note: ‫אדעה‬ is generally accented with Dechî, ‫מלים‬ with Munach, according to
which Dachselt interprets: scirem, quae eloquia responderet mihi Deus, but this is
incorrect. The old editions have correctly ‫אדעה‬ Munach, ‫מלים‬ Munach (taking the
place of Dechî, because the Athnach-word which follows has not two syllables before
the tone-syllable; vid., Psalter, ii. 104, §4).)
and would give heed to what He would say to him. But will He condescend? will He have
anything to do with the matter? -
BE SO , ". Then Job answered — Job, being exceedingly grieved by the freedom
which Eliphaz had taken with him in his last speech, charging him directly with the
most enormous sins, (see the 15th and following verses,) turns and appeals to God,
according to his custom, and earnestly begs he would hear the matter fully, and
determine between him and his friends. The passage from this to the end of the 10th
verse is peculiarly fine, and well worthy of the reader’s deep attention. In it Job

4. fully answers the charge of Eliphaz concerning his denial or disbelief of the Divine
Providence; and observes, that this was so far from being the case, that there was
nothing he so much lamented as that he was excluded from God’s presence, and not
permitted to draw near and make his defence before him; having the testimony of
his own conscience respecting his integrity, and not doubting but he should make his
cause good. He then shows, that his cause was far from being singular, for that
many other dispensations of God’s providence were equally difficult to be accounted
for, at least by human understanding; and that it was this which filled him with
greater apprehensions. He expresses his desire that God, in the course of his
providence, would make a more visible distinction between the righteous and the
wicked in this world, that good men might not fall into such mistakes in censuring
suffering innocence. He concludes with showing what, according to their principles,
ought to be the general course of providence with regard to wicked men, which,
however, it was notorious was not the case: and since it was not, it was plain that he
had proved his point, and the falsity of their maxim was apparent: and their
censuring him merely for his sufferings was a behaviour by no means justifiable. —
Heath.
COFFMA , "This speech of Job is different from all the others in that it has no
word at all directly addressed to his friends, being rather a monologue, or soliloquy,
on the amazing riddle of God's treatment of Job. This speech is recorded in two
chapters; and Job 24 follows the same pattern, except that it embraces the riddle of
God's treatment of men generally.
In neither of these chapters did Job make any direct reference to what Eliphaz had
said; but he did stress two main things, namely, (1) his innocence and integrity, and
(2) his desire to commune with God which was prevented by his inability to find
Him. These things, of course, were in refutation of what Eliphaz had said.
Job's plight was pitiful; and the deep questionings of his soul evoke sympathy and
concern in all who meditate upon them. The great fact here is that Job lived at a
time long before the enlightenment that came with the Advent of Messiah. The
Dayspring from On High had not yet illuminated the darkness that enveloped the
pre-Christian world.
"Even today is my complaint rebellious" (Job 23:2). "Job's friends considered his
questionings regarding the government of the world, and his protestations of
innocence as rebellion against God; and in these words, Job declares that he will
continue to be a rebel in their eyes."[1] This passage positively does not mean that,
"Job's attitude has drifted into open rebellion."[2] Such an erroneous interpretation
is flatly contradicted by what Job said in Job 23:10-11.
"Oh that I knew where I might find him" (Job 23:3). For Christians, the answer to
this question is our Saviour. Jesus said, "He that hath seen me hath seen the
Father" (John 14:9); but for Job there was a profound uncertainty and perplexity
concerning the Father and his government of mankind.

5. Furthermore, we do not mean to infer that all of the doubts and uncertainties have
been removed even for Christians. "We now see through a glass darkly" and we
know "only in part." (1 Corinthians 13:12). The mystery of God has not been
finished yet (Revelation 10:7); and all of us should be careful to avoid the cocksure
arrogant conceit of Eliphaz who pretended to know all the answers. We do not
know all the answers; and it is imperative to remember that it is only the false
teacher who pretends that he does.
The restlessness in Job's heart as he sought to find a more perfect knowledge of God
is a God-endowed element of human life. As Augustine stated it, "O God, our hearts
were made for thee, and never shall they rest until they rest in Thee."
That intense and perpetual yearning of the human heart after God is most
beautifully expressed in these nine verses.
COKE, "Job wishes that he might be allowed to plead his cause before God; but,
wherever he turns himself, he cannot find or behold him. He acknowledges,
however, that God observes his paths, and therefore he doth not despond.
Before Christ 1645.
Job 23:1. Then Job answered and said— Job, being tried to a high degree, by the
freedom which Eliphaz had taken with him in his last speech, charging him directly
with the most enormous sins, (see the 15th, and following verses) turns to God,
according to his custom, and earnestly begs that he would bring him to his trial; that
he would hear the matter fully, and determine between him and his friends. The
passage from this to the end of the 10th verse is a very fine one; in which a candid
reader can see nothing, I should suppose, but an earnest desire in Job to come
before his judge, and take his trial, and be delivered, once for all, from the unjust
suspicions of his friends. The word rendered order, in the 4th verse, is used for
drawing up a speech, chap. Job 32:14 or preparing a table for an entertainment,
Isaiah 21:5. Moses uses the same word, Leviticus 6:9, for preparing a burnt
offering; and David, Psalms 5:3 for addressing himself to his devotions. Our
translators have rightly added the word strength in the 6th verse, Will he plead
against me with his great strength? no; but he will put strength into me. Munster
and Vatablus, two of the most judicious among the critics, follow this sense. Le
Clerc gives another, not quite so natural, but a very good one, if the Hebrew will
bear it; thus, Will he strive with me with his great might? no; but he would attend to
me: that is, "he would give me a patient hearing, and attend to the reasonableness of
my plea; which you do not." Heath, and some others, render the 2nd verse, Still
must my complaint be rebellious obstinacy: his hand is heavier than my groaning.
The word rendered seat, in the 3rd verse, denotes the throne or tribunal of God; the
usual place for the administration of justice. From my judge, in the 7th verse, is
rendered by Heath and Houbigant, From my accusation, or judgment: and in the
9th verse, instead of, where he doth work, Heath reads, towards his brightness;

6. which makes a better sense, and is a proper antithesis to his hiding himself in the
latter part of the verse. See Peters, p. 173.
EBC, "WHERE IS ELOAH?
Job 23:1-17; Job 24:1-25
Job SPEAKS
THE obscure couplet with which Job begins appears to involve some reference to
his whole condition alike of body and mind.
"Again today, my plaint, my rebellion!
The hand upon me is heavier than my groanings."
I must speak of my trouble and you will count it rebellion. Yet, if I moan and sigh,
my pain and weariness are more than excuse. The crisis of faith is with him, a
protracted misery, and hope hangs trembling in the balance. The false accusations
of Eliphaz are in his mind; but they provoke only a feeling of weary discontent.
What men say does not trouble him much. He is troubled because of that which God
refuses to do or say. Many indeed are the afflictions of the righteous. But every case
like his own obscures the providence of God. Job does not entirely deny the
contention of his friends that unless suffering comes as a punishment of sin there is
no reason for it. Hence, even though he maintains with strong conviction that the
good are often poor and afflicted while the wicked prosper, yet he does not thereby
clear up the matter. He must admit to himself that he is condemned by the events of
life. And against the testimony of outward circumstance he makes appeal in the
audience chamber of the King.
Has the Most High forgotten to be righteous for a time? When the generous and
true are brought into sore straits, is the great Friend of truth neglecting His task as
Governor of the world? That would indeed plunge life into profound darkness. And
it seems to be even so. Job seeks deliverance from this mystery which has emerged in
his own experience. He would lay his cause before Him who alone can explain.
"Oh that I knew where I might find Him,
That I might come even to His seat!
I would order my cause before Him,
And fill my mouth with arguments.
I would know the words which He would answer me

7. And understand what He would say unto me."
Present to Job’s mind here is the thought that he is under condemnation, and along
with this the conviction that his trial is not over. It is natural that his mind should
hover between these ideas, holding strongly to the hope that judgment, if already
passed, will be revised whet the facts are fully known. ow this course of thought is
altogether in the darkness. But what are the principles unknown to Job, through
ignorance of which he has to languish in doubt? Partly, as we long ago saw the
explanation lies in the use of trial and affliction as the means of deepening spiritual
life. They give gravity and therewith the possibility of power to our existence. Even
yet Job had not realised that one always kept in the primrose path, untouched by
the keen air of "misfortune" although he had, to begin, a pious disposition and a
blameless record, would be worth little: the end to God or to mankind. And the
necessity for the discipline of affliction and disappointment, even as it explains the
smaller troubles, explains also the greatest. Let ill be heaped on ill, disaster on
disaster, disease on bereavement, misery on sorrow, while stage by stage the life goes
down into deeper circles of gloom and pain, it may acquire, it will acquire, if faith
and faithfulness towards God remain, massiveness, strength, and dignity for the
highest spiritual service. But there is another principle, not yet considered, which
enters into the problem and still more lightens up the valley of experience which to
Job appeared so dark. The poem touches the fringe of this principle again and
again, but never states it. The author says that men were born to trouble. He made
Job suffer more because he had his integrity to maintain than if he had been guilty
of transgressions by acknowledging which he might have pacified his friends: The
burden lay heavily upon Job because he was a conscientious man, a true man, and
could not accept any make believe in religion. But just where another step would
have carried him into the light of blessed acquiescence in the will of God the power
failed, he could not advance. Perhaps the genuineness and simplicity of his
character would have been impaired if he had thought of it. and we like him better
because he did not. The truth, however, is that Job was suffering for others, that he
was, by the grace of God, a martyr, and so far forth in the spirit and position of that
suffering Servant of Jehovah of whom we read in the prophecies of Isaiah.
The righteous sufferers, the martyrs, what are they? Always the vanguard of
humanity. Where they go and the prints of their bleeding feet are left, there is the
way of improvement, of civilisation, of religion. The most successful man, preacher
or journalist or statesman, is popularly supposed to be leading the world in the right
path. Where the crowd goes shouting after him, is that not the way to advance? Do
not believe it. Look for a teacher, a journalist, a statesman who is not so successful
as he might be, because he will, at all hazards, be true. The Christian world does not
yet know the best in life, thought, and morality for the best. He who sacrifices
position and esteem to righteousness, he who will not bow down to the great idol at
the sound of sackbut and psaltery, observe where that man is going, try to
understand what he has in his mind. Those who under defeat or neglect remain
steadfast in faith have the secrets we need to know. To the ranks even of the afflicted
and broken the author of Job turned for an example of witness bearing to high ideas
and the faith in God which brings salvation. But he wrought in the shadow, and his

8. hero is unconscious of his high calling. Had Job seen the principles of Divine
providence which made him a helper of human faith, we should not now hear him
cry for an opportunity of pleading his cause before God.
"Would He contend with me in His mighty power?
ay, but He would give heed to me.
Then an upright man would reason with Him;
So should I get free forever from my Judge."
It is in a sense startling to hear this confident expectation of acquittal at the bar of
God. The common notion is that the only part possible to man in his natural state is
to fear the judgment to come and dread the hour that shall bring him to the Divine
tribunal. From the ordinary point of view the language of Job here is dangerous, if
not profane. He longs to meet the Judge; he believes that he could so state his case
that the Judge would listen and be convinced. The Almighty would not contend with
him any longer as his powerful antagonist, but would pronounce him innocent and
set him at liberty forever. Can mortal man vindicate himself before the bar of the
Most High? Is not every one condemned by the law of nature and of conscience,
much more by Him who knoweth all things? And yet this man who believes he
would be acquitted by the great King has already been declared "perfect and
upright, one that feareth God and escheweth evil." Take the declaration of the
Almighty Himself in the opening scenes of the book, and Job is found what he
claims to be. Under the influence of that Divine grace which the sincere and upright
may enjoy he has been a faithful servant and has earned the approbation of his
Judge. It is by faith he is made righteous. Religion and love of the Divine law have
been his guides; he has followed them; and what one has done may not others do?
Our book is concerned not so much with the corruption of human nature, as with
the vindication of the grace of God given to human nature. Corrupt and vile as
humanity often is, imperfect and spiritually ignorant as it always is, the writer of
this book is not engaged with that view. He directs attention to the virtuous and
honourable elements and shows God’s new creation in which He may take delight.
We shall indeed find that after the Almighty has spoken out of the storm, Job says,
"I repudiate my words and repent in dust and ashes." So he appears to come at last
to the confession which, from one point of view, he ought to have made at the first.
But those words of penitence imply no acknowledgment of iniquity after all. They
are confession of ignorant judgment. Job admits with sorrow that he has ventured
too far in his attempt to understand the ways of the Almighty, that he has spoken
without knowledge of the universal providence he had vainly sought to fathom.
The author’s intention plainly is to justify Job in his desire for the opportunity of
pleading his cause, that is, to justify the claim of the human reason to comprehend.
It is not an offence to him that much of the Divine working is profoundly difficult to
interpret. He acknowledges in humility that God is greater than man, that there are

9. secrets with the Almighty which the human mind cannot penetrate. But so far as
suffering and sorrow are appointed to a man and enter into his life, he is considered
to have the right of inquiry regarding them, an inherent claim on God to explain
them. This may be held the error of the author which he himself has to confess when
he comes to the Divine interlocution. There he seems to allow the majesty of the
Omnipotent to silence the questions of human reason. But this is really a confession
that his own knowledge does not suffice, that he shares the ignorance of Job as well
as his cry for light. The universe is vaster than he or any of the Old Testament age
could even imagine. The destinies of man form part of a Divine order extending
through the immeasurable spaces and the developments of eternal ages.
Once more Job perceives or seems to perceive that access to the presence of the
Judge is denied. The sense of condemnation shuts him in like prison walls and he
finds no way to the audience chamber. The bright sun moves calmly from east to
west; the gleaming stars, the cold moon in their turn glide silently over the vault of
heaven. Is not God on high? Yet man sees no form, hears no sound.
"Speak to Him thou, for He hears, and spirit with spirit can meet;
Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet."
But Job is not able to conceive a spiritual presence without shape or voice.
"Behold, I go forward, but He is not there;
And backward, but I cannot perceive Him:
On the left hand where He doth work, but I behold Him not:
He hideth Himself on the right hand that I cannot see Him."
ature, thou hast taught this man by thy light and thy darkness, thy glorious sun
and thy storms, the clear shining after rain, the sprouting corn and the clusters of
the vine, by the power of man’s will and the daring love and justice of man’s heart.
In all thou hast been a revealer. But thou hidest whom thou dost reveal. To cover in
thought the multiplicity of, thy energies in earth and sky and sea, in fowl and brute
and man, in storm and sunshine, in reason, in imagination, in will and love and
hope; -to attach these one by one to the idea of a Being almighty, infinite, eternal,
and so to conceive this God of the universe-it is, we may say, a superhuman task.
Job breaks down in the effort to realise the great God. I took behind me, into the
past. There are the footprints of Eloah when He passed by. In the silence an echo of
His step may be heard; but God is not there. On the right hand, away beyond the
hills that shut in the horizon, on the left hand where the ways leads to Damascus
and the distant north-not there can I see His form; nor out yonder where day breaks
in the east. And when I travel forward in imagination, I who said that my Redeemer
shall stand upon the earth, when I strive to conceive His form, still, in utter human
incapacity, I fail. "Verily, Thou art a God that hidest Thyself."

10. And yet, Job’s conviction of his own uprightness, is it not God’s witness to his
spirit? Can he not be content with that? To have such a testimony is to have the very
verdict he desire. Well does Boethius, a writer of the old world though he belonged
to the Christian age, press beyond Job where he writes:
"He is always Almighty, because He always wills good and never any evil. He is
always equally gracious. By His Divine power He is everywhere present. The
Eternal and Almighty always sits on the throne of His power. Thence He is able to
see all, and renders to every one with justice, according to his works. Therefore it is.
not in vain that we have hope in God; for He changes not as we do. But pray ye to
Him humbly, for He is very bountiful and very merciful. Hate and fly from evil as ye
best may. Love virtues and follow them. Ye have great need that ye always do well,
for ye always in the presence of the Eternal and Almighty God do all that ye do. He
beholds it all, and He will recompense it all."
Amiel, on the other hand, would fain apply to Job a reflection which has occurred to
himself in one of the moods that come to a man disappointed, impatient of his own
limitations. In his journal, under date January 29th, 1866, he writes:
"It is but our secret self-love which is set upon this favour from on high; such may
be our desire, but such is not the will of God. We are to be exercised, humbled, tried
and tormented to the end. It is our patience which is the touchstone of our virtue. To
bear with life even when illusion and hope are gone; to accept this position of
perpetual war, while at the same time loving only peace; to stay patiently in the
world, even when it repels us as a place of low company and seems to us a mere
arena of bad passions; to remain faithful to one’s own faith without breaking with
the followers of false gods; to make no attempt to escape from the human hospital,
long-suffering and patient as Job upon his dunghill; -this is duty."
An evil mood prompts Amiel to write thus. A thousand times rather would one hear
him crying like Job on the great Judge and Redeemer and complaining that the
Goal hides Himself. It is not in bare self-love or self-pity Job seeks acquittal at the
bar of God; but in the defence of conscience, the spiritual treasure of mankind and
our very life. o doubt his own personal justification bulks largely with Job, for he
has strong individuality. He will not be overborne. He stands at bay against his
three friends and the unseen adversary. But he loves integrity, the virtue, first; and
for himself he cares as the representative of that which the Spirit of God gives to
faithful men. He may cry, therefore, he may defend himself, he may complain; and
God will not cast him off.
"For He knoweth the way that I take;
If He tried me, I should come forth as gold.
My foot hath held fast to His steps,

11. His way have I kept, and not turned aside.
I have not gone back from the commandments of His lips;
I have treasured the words of His mouth more than my needful food."
Bravely, not in mere vaunt he speaks, and it is good to hear him still able to make
such a claim. Why do we not also hold fast to the garment of our Divine Friend?
Why do we not realise and exhibit the resolute godliness that anticipates judgment:
"If He tried me, I should come forth as gold"? The psalmists of Israel stood thus on
their faith; and not in vain, surely, has Christ called us to be like our Father who is
in heaven.
But again from brave affirmation Job falls back exhausted.
Oh thou Hereafter! on whose shore I stand-
Waiting each toppling moment to engulf me.
What am I? Say thou Present! say thou Past!
Ye three wise children of Eternity-
A life?-A death?-and an immortal?-All?
Is this the threefold mystery of man?
The lower, darker Trinity of earth?
It is vain to ask.
ought answers me-not God.
The air grows thick and dark.
The sky comes down.
The sun draws round him streaky clouds-like God
Gleaning up wrath.
Hope hath leapt off my heart,
Like a false sibyl, fear-smote, from her seat,
And overturned it.

12. So, as Bailey makes his Festus speak, might Job have spoken here. For now it seems
to him that to call on God is fruitless. Eloah is of one mind. His will is steadfast,
immovable. Death is in the cup and death will come. On this God has determined.
or is it in Job’s case alone so sore a doom is performed by the Almighty. Many
such things are with Him. The waves of trouble roll up from the deep dark sea and
go over the head of the sufferer. He lies faint and desolate once more. The light
fades, and with a deep sigh because he ever came to life he shuts his lips.
atural religion ends always with a sigh. The sense of God found in the order of the
universe, the dim vision of God which comes in conscience, moral life and duty, in
fear and hope and love, in the longing for justice and truth-these avail much; but
they leave us at the end desiring something they cannot give. The Unknown God
whom men ignorantly worshipped had to be revealed by the life and truth and
power of the Man Christ Jesus. ot without this revelation, which is above and
beyond nature, can our eager quest end in satisfying knowledge. In Christ alone the
righteousness that justifies, the love that compassionates, the wisdom that enlightens
are brought into the range of our experience and communicated through reason to
faith.
In chapter 24 there is a development of the reasoning contained in Job’s reply to
Zophar in the second colloquy, and there is also a closer examination of the nature
and results of evildoing than has yet been attempted. In the course of his acute and
careful discrimination Job allows something to his friends’ side of the argument, but
all the more emphasises the series of vivid touches by which the prosperous tyrant is
represented. He modifies to some extent his opinion previously expressed that all
goes well with the wicked. He finds that certain classes of miscreants do come to
confusion, and he separates these from the others, at the same time separating
himself beyond question from the oppressor on this side and the murderer and
adulterer on that. Accepting the limits of discussion chosen by the friends he
exhausts the matter between himself and them. By the distinctions now made and
the choice offered, Job arrests personal accusation, and of that we hear no more.
Continuing the idea of a Divine assize which has governed his thought throughout
this reply, Job asks why it should not be held openly from time to time in the
world’s history.
"Why are times not set by the Almighty?
And why do not they who know Him see His days?"
Emerson says the world is full of judgment days; Job thinks it is not, but ought to
be. Passing from his own desire to have access to the bar of God and plead there, he
now thinks of an open court, a public vindication of God’s rule. The Great Assize is
never proclaimed. Ages go by; the Righteous One never appears. All things continue
as they were from the beginning of the creation. Men struggling, sinning, suffering,
doubt or deny the existence of a moral Ruler. They ask, Who ever saw this God? If
He exists, He is so separate from the world by His own choice that there is no need

13. to consider Him. In pride or in sorrow men raise the question. But no God means no
justice, no truth, no penetration of the real by the ideal; and thought cannot rest
there.
With great vigour and large knowledge of the world the writer makes Job point out
the facts of human violence and crime, of human condonation and punishment.
Look at the oppressors and those who cringe under them, the despots never brought
to justice, but on the contrary growing in power through the fear and misery of
their serfs. Already we have seen how perilous it is to speak falsely for God. ow we
see, on the other hand, that whoever speaks truly of the facts of human experience
prepares the way for a true knowledge of God. Those who have been looking in vain
for indications of Divine justice and grace are to learn that not in deliverance from
the poverty and trouble of this world but in some other way they must realise God’s
redemption. The writer of the book is seeking after that kingdom which is not meat
and drink nor long life and happiness, but righteousness and peace and joy in the
Holy Ghost.
Observe first, says Job, the base and cruel men who remove landmarks and claim as
their own a neighbour’s heritage, who drive into their pastures flocks that are not
theirs, who even take away the one ass of the fatherless and the one ox the widow
has for ploughing her scanty fields, who thus with a high hand overbear all the
defenceless people within their reach. Zophar had charged Job with similar crimes,
and no direct reply was given to the accusation. ow, speaking strongly of the
iniquity of such deeds, Job makes his accusers feel their injustice towards him.
There are men who do such things. I have seen them, wondered at them, been
amazed that they were not struck down by the hand of God. My distress is that I
cannot understand how to reconcile their immunity from punishment with my faith
in Him whom I have served and trusted as my Friend.
The next picture, from the fifth to the eighth verse (Job 24:5-8) , shows in contrast to
the tyrant’s pride and cruelty the lot of those who suffer at his hands. Deprived of
their land and their flocks, herding together in common danger and misery like wild
asses, they have to seek for their food such roots and wild fruits as can be found
here and there in the wilderness. Half enslaved now by the man who took away their
land they are driven to the task of harvesting his fodder and gathering the gleanings
of his grapes. aked they lie in the field, huddling together for warmth, and out
among the hills they are wet with the impetuous rams, crouching in vain under the
ledges of the rock for shelter.
Worse things too are done, greater sufferings than these have to be endured. Men
there are who pluck the fatherless child from the mother’s breast, claiming the poor
little life as a pledge. Miserable debtors, faint with hunger, have to carry the
oppressor’s sheaves of corn. They have to grind at the oil presses, and with never a
cluster to slake their thirst tread the grapes in the hot sun. or is it only in the
country cruelties are practised. Perhaps in Egypt the writer has seen what he makes
Job describe, the misery of city life. In the city the dying groan uncared for, and the
soul of the wounded crieth out. Universal are the scenes of social iniquity. The world

14. is full of injustice. And to Job the sting of it all is that "God regardeth not the
wrong."
Men talk nowadays as if the penury and distress prevalent in our large towns
proved the churches to be unworthy of their name and place. It may be so. If this
can be proved, let it be proved; and if the institution called The Church cannot
justify its existence and its Christianity where it should do so by freeing the poor
from oppression and securing their rights to the weak, then let it go to the wall. But
here is Job carrying the accusation a stage farther, carrying it, with what may
appear blasphemous audacity, to the throne of God. He has no church to blame, for
there is no church. Or, he himself represents what church there is. And as a witness
for God, what does he find to be his portion? Behold him, where many a servant of
Divine righteousness has been in past times and is now, down in the depths, poorest
of the poor, bereaved, diseased, scorned, misunderstood, hopeless. Why is there
suffering? Why are there many in our cities outcasts of society, such as society is?
Job’s case is a partial explanation; and here the church is not to blame. Pariahs of
society, we say. If society consists to any great extent of oppressors who are enjoying
wealth unjustly gained, one is not so sure that there is any need to pity those who
are excluded from society. Am I trying to make out that it may be well there are
oppressors, because oppression is not the worst thing for a brave soul? o: I am
only using the logic of the Book of Job in justifying Divine providence. The church
is criticised and by many in these days condemned as worthless because it is not
banishing poverty. Perhaps it might be more in the way of duty and more likely to
succeed if it sought to banish excessive wealth. Are we of the twentieth Christian
century to hold still by the error of Eliphaz and the rest of Job’s friends? Are we to
imagine that those whom the gospel blesses it must of necessity enrich, so that in
their turn they may be tempted to act the Pharisee? Let us be sure God knows how
to govern His world. Let us not doubt His justice because many are very poor who
have been guilty of no crimes and many very rich who have been distinguished by
no virtues. It is our mistake to think that all would be well if no bitter cries were
heard in the midnight streets and every one were secured against penury. While the
church is partly to blame for the state of things, the salvation of society will not be
found in any earthly socialism. On that side lies a slough as deep as the other from
which it professes to save. The large Divine justice and humanity which the world
needs are those which Christ alone has taught, Christ to whom property was only
something to deal with on the way to spiritual good, -humility, holiness, love, and
faith.
The emphatic "These" with which Job 24:13 begins must be taken as referring to
the murderer and adulterer immediately to be described. Quite distinct from the
strong oppressors who maintain themselves in high position are these cowardly
miscreants who "rebel against the light" (Job 24:13), who "in the dark dig through
houses" and "know not the light" (Job 24:16), to whom "the morning is as the
shadow of death," whose "portion is cursed in the earth." The passage contains
Job’s admission that there are vile transgressors of human and Divine law whose
unrighteousness is broken as a tree (Job 24:20). Without giving up his main
contention as to high-handed wickedness prospering in the world he can admit this;

15. nay, asserting it, he strengthens his position against the arguments of his friends.
The murderer who rising towards daybreak waylays and kills the poor and needy
for the sake of their scanty belongings, the adulterer who waits for the twilight,
disguising his face, and the thief who in the dark digs through the clay wall of a
house these do find the punishment of their treacherous and disgusting crimes in
this life. The coward who is guilty of such sin is loathed even by the mother who
bore him and has to skulk in by ways, familiar with the terrors of the shadow of
death, daring, not to turn in the way of the vineyards to enjoy their fruit. The
description of these reprobates ends with the twenty-first verse, and then there is a
return to the "mighty" and the Divine support they appear to enjoy.
The interpretation of Job 24:18-21 which makes them "either actually in part the
work of a popular hand, or a parody after the popular manner by Job himself," has
no sufficient ground. To affirm that the passage is introduced ironically and that
Job 24:22 resumes the real history of the murderer, the adulterer, and the thief is to
neglect the distinction between those "who rebel against the light" and the mighty
who live in the eye of God. The natural interpretation is that which makes the whole
a serious argument against the creed of the friends. In their eagerness to convict Job
they have failed to distinguish between men whose base crimes bring them under
social reprobation and the proud oppressors who prosper through very arrogance.
Regarding these the fact still holds that apparently they are under the protection of
Heaven.
Yet He sustaineth the mighty by His power,
They rise up though they despaired of life.
He giveth them to be safe, and they are unheld,
And His eyes are upon their ways.
They rise high: in a moment they are not;
They are brought low, like all others gathered in.
And cut off as the tops of corn.
If not-who then will make me a liar,
And to nothing bring my speech?
Is the daring right-defying evildoer wasted by disease, preyed upon by terror? ot
so. When he appears to have been crushed, suddenly he starts up again in new
vigour, and when he dies, it is not prematurely but in the ripeness of full age. With
this reaffirmation of the mystery of God’s dealings Job challenges his friends. They
have his final judgment. The victory he gains is that of one who will be true at all
hazards. Perhaps in the background of his thought is the vision of a redemption not

16. only of his own life but of all those broken by the injustice and cruelty of this earth.
PARKER, "Job"s Review of the Controversy
Job 23
With the exception of a short interruption by Bildad, the Shuhite, the great
conference is at an end. In the twenty-third and through several succeeding
chapters, Job conducts a very striking and instructive colloquy. The three
comforters have practically said all they have to say, and they have left Job very
much as they found him. They have eloquently expressed all that they knew of the
way and purpose of God. And we must not hold them guilty of ignorance; they were
true up to the time in which they lived; they did the best they could for their friend.
It is easy to go back from the end of the book to the beginning, and to chastise them
with rods; but this is not, from a literary point of view, fair or just. If they had
wilfully kept back anything, then we might have charged them with selfishness and
with injustice to the spirit of truth and the ministry of sympathy; but having made
their speeches, one by one, and word by word, we are hardly going too far in saying
that they had evidently told all they knew. There is a good deal in seeing a witness,
in hearing the tone of his voice, in observing how he conducts himself under
examination and cross-examination. This, of course, is a condition we cannot now
enjoy: but all the words are here, singular words they are, full of colour, full of life,
ardent, resolute, fearless; there is no sign about them of anything being wantonly or
purposely withheld. It is sad to see men turn away who came to do us good, and who
have failed in their purpose. Watch them retiring! They would have healed Job if
they could, but they did not know the cure for this malady, it was wholly
unfamiliar; maxim, and nostrum, and moral law, and well-ascertained precept,
went for nothing in the fierceness of this unknown distress. It seemed as if they were
throwing pieces of paper into a furnace: the paper was written all over with good
words, but the fire crinkled and cindered it. The men had not instruments adapted
to their work. Who could empty the Atlantic with a thimble? Their hands were too
short; they could not reach the reality of the case. Many short-handed comforters
there be; men of little strength, little knowledge; men of letters; men of information
but not of inspiration; men who know only what they have been told, who have
never by some marvellous spirit of strength forced themselves to new positions along
the line of human wisdom. But a very good thing has been done: Job has been
driven back upon himself. He has said, o: these men have not touched the reality
of the case yet: they have had surgical instruments enough, liniment enough,
nostrums enough, but they did not know what disease they were treating; so their
wisdom became folly, and their energy wasted itself in well-meant exertions. It is
something when a man is driven back upon himself to think religiously. Herein is a
happy effect of an imperfect sermon: the hearer can always profit himself by
delivering a better, silently—if he can. Herein is the advantage of reading books that
were written under the impression that they would solve everything and have ended
by solving nothing. Could the preacher but drive the hearer back into his own
consciousness, into the sanctuary of his own thought, into the mystery of his own

17. being, and get him to ask great questions, there would be some hope of the Christian
ministry even yet. Job said in effect: You have not touched me: you have made a
false diagnosis of my disease; you have been like doctors who have been treating
asthma as if it were a case of rheumatism; you have been wrong in all your
inferences regarding my state; in a sense I could contemn you and sneer at you:
miserable comforters are ye all: the moment you showed anything like coarseness
and impertinence I felt angry with you; only when your voices fell into soft and
tender tones did I say, These men mean well, I had better hear them; but they do not
know my case, and therefore I must look elsewhere for help. It is in that
"elsewhere" that we find our subject.
Job looks round for God, as a man might look round for an old acquaintance, an old
but long-gone friend. Memory has a great ministry to discharge in life: old times
come back, and whisper to us, correct us or bless us, as the case may be; old hymns
and psalms that now in our higher culture we despise and quote with suggestive
emphasis,—even these sometimes come singing round the corner, as if they would
attract our attention without being rude or violent; sometimes in the aching heart
there comes up a longing to get back to the old altar, the old sanctuary, the old
pastor; after listening to all new doctors the heart says, Where is your old friend?
where the quarter whence light first dawned? recall yourself: think out the whole
case. So Job would seem now to say, Oh that I knew where I might find him! I
would go round the earth to discover him; I would fly through all the stars if I could
have but one brief interview with him; I would count no labour hard if I might see
him as I once did. We are not always benefited by a literally correct experience, a
literally correct interpretation even. Sometimes God has used other means for our
illumination and release, and upbuilding in holy mysteries. So Job might have
strange ideas of God, and yet those ideas might do him good. It is not our place to
laugh even at idolatry. There is no easier method of provoking an unchristian laugh,
or evoking an unchristian plaudit, than by railing against the gods of the heathen.
Job"s ideas of God are not ours, but they were his; and for a man to live out his own
ideal of religion is the beginning of the right life: only let a man with his heart-hand
seize some truth, hold on by some conviction, and support the same by an obedient
spirit, a beneficent life, a most charitable temper, a high and prayerful desire to
know all God"s will, and how grey and dim soever the dawn, the noontide shall be
without a cloud, and the afternoon shall be one long quiet glory. Hold on by what
you do know, and do not be laughed out of initial and incipient convictions by men
who are so wise that they have become fools.
GUZIK 1-7, "a. Even today my complaint is bitter: At the close of Eliphaz’s speech,
Job continued to feel desperate. The wisdom and counsel of Eliphaz and others was
of no relief to him, and just made his mental and spiritual agony worse.
b. Oh, that I knew where I might find Him: Job felt separated from God. Surely,
this was not the first crisis in his life (though of course it was far beyond any
previous suffering). He had found comfort and solace in God in prior times, but in
this catastrophe he felt he could not find God.

18. i. In a way almost infinitely less, yet nevertheless real, Job experienced what Jesus
experienced on the cross: A man who had previously been in the fellowship and
favor of God now felt utterly forsaken. This was the greatest source of torment in
Job’s life.
ii. This not only tells us of Job’s sense of the loss of the presence of God, but of his
longing to have it back. “Good men are washed towards God even by the rough
waves of their grief; and when their sorrows are deepest, their highest desire is not
to escape from them, but to get at their God.” (Spurgeon)
iii. “In Job’s uttermost extremity he cried after the Lord. The longing desire of an
afflicted child of God is once more to see his Father’s face. His first prayer is not,
‘Oh that I might be healed of the disease which now festers in every part of my
body!’ nor even, ‘Oh that I might see my children restored from the jaws of the
grave, and my property once more brought from the hand of the spoiler!’ but the
first and uppermost cry is, ‘Oh that I knew where I might find HIM — who is my
God! that I might come even to his seat!’” (Spurgeon)
c. I would present my case before Him: Job did not only want the sense of the
presence of God for the sake of spiritual comfort; he also wanted it so he might be
vindicated in the court of God, especially in the face of the accusations of his friends.
i. “So impatient is Job for the process to begin that he dares to arraign the Lord in
court. In effect, he wants to sue God for defamation of character!” (Mason)
ii. “Here Job’s courageous honesty is seen at its best. His consuming desire is to
come face to face with God, not by a contrived penance, as Eliphaz recommends, but
in fair trial.” (Andersen)
d. I would know the words which He would answer me . . . I would be delivered
forever from my Judge: Job’s conscience assured him that he would find mercy and
favor at the throne of God. His friends insisted that God was against Job in his
sufferings, but Job stubbornly clung to his innocence.
i. “He has confidence in the Lord that, if he could have an audience with him, God
would not use his power against him; but, on the contrary, would strengthen him in
order that he might state his case.” (Spurgeon)
PULPIT, "Verses 1-24:25
Job replies to Eliphaz in a speech of no great length, which, though it occupies two
chapters, runs to only forty-two verses. He begins by justifying the vehemence of his
complaints, first, on the ground of the severity of his sufferings (verse 2), and
secondly, on the ground of his conviction that, if God would bring him to an open
trial before his tribunal, he would acquit him (verses 3-12). By the way, he

19. complains that God hides himself, and cannot be found (verses 3, 8, 9). He then
further complains that God is not to be bent from his purpose, which is set against
Job (verses 13-17). In Job 24:1-25. he goes over ground already trodden,
maintaining the general prosperity of the wicked, and their exemption from any
special earthly punishment (Job 24:2-24). He winds up, finally, with a challenge to
his opponents to disprove the truth of what he has said (Job 24:25).
Job 23:1, Job 23:2
Then Job answered and said, Even to-day is my complaint bitter; i.e. even to-day,
notwithstanding all that has been said by my opponents against my right to
complain, I do complain, and as bitterly as ever. And I justify my complaint on the
following ground—my stroke is heavier than my groaning. If I complain bitterly, I
suffer even more bitterly (comp. Job 6:2).
BI 1-6, "Oh, that I knew where I might find Him.
The cry for restored relations with God
The language of the text is exclusively that of men on the earth,—although it also
characterises the state and feelings only of some of the guilty children of men. Some
among the human race have already sought God, and found Him a present help in the
time of trouble. The desire expressed in the text is that of one under affliction. It is either
the prayer of an awakened sinner, crying and longing for reconciliation, to God, under
deep conviction, and full of sorrow and shame on account of it: or the cry of the
backslider awakened anew to his danger and guilt, under God’s chastisements,
remembering the sweet enjoyment of brighter days, and ardently longing for its return.
I. It implies a painful sense of distance from God. Men of no religion are far off from
God, but this gives them no concern. The presence of Christ constitutes the believer’s
joy, and he mourns nothing so much as the loss of God’s favour. Sad and comfortless as
the state of distance from God must be to the believer, still he is painfully conscious of
his own state, and crying like Job, “Oh, that I knew where I might find Him!” The
occasions that most generally give birth to the complaint and cry in the text are such as
these.
1. Bodily suffering, or the pressure of severe and long-continued outward calamities,
may contribute to enfeeble the mind, and lead the soul to conclude that it is forsaken
by its God. The dispensations of Divine providence appear so complex and difficult,
that faith is unable to explore them, or hope to rise above them. The mind magnifies
its distresses, and dwells on its own griefs, to the exclusion of those grounds of
consolation and causes of thankfulness afforded in the many mercies that tend to
alleviate their bitterness. In reality God is not more distant from the soul, though He
appears to be so.
2. Another and more serious occasion of distance and desertion is sin cherished,
long indulged, unrepented of, and unpardoned. This alienates the soul from God. Sin
is just the wandering of the soul in its thoughts, desires, and affections from God,
and God graciously makes sin itself the instrument in correcting the backslider. The
righteous desert of the soul’s departure from God, is God’s desertion of the soul. God
is really ever near to man. “He is not far from any one of us.” But sin indulged,

20. whether open, secret, or presumptuous, grieves the Holy Spirit, expels Him from the
temple He loved, and cheered by His presence. Let us thank God that distance is not
utter desertion. When the misery of separation and distance from God is felt, the
dawn of restoration and reconciliation begins.
II. As the language of earnest desire. When “brought to himself” the backslider rests not
satisfied with fruitless complaints, but the desire of his soul is towards his God. It is one
thing to be conscious of distance from God, and quite another thing to be anxious to be
brought near to Him by the blood of Christ. Conviction of guilt and misery is not
conversion. What avails it, to know our separation from God, unless we are brought to
this desire and anxiety, “Oh, that I knew where I might find Him!”
III. As the language of holy freedom. The text is a way of appeal by Job to God
concerning his integrity. Though he had much to say in favour of his integrity before
men, he did not rest on anything in himself as the ground of his justification before God.
His language expresses a resolution to avail himself of the privilege of approaching the
Most High with holy freedom and humble confidence, to present his petition.
IV. As the language of hope. Job could expect little from his earthly friends. All his
hopes flowed from another—an Almighty Friend. Those who wait on God, and hope in
His Word, will surely not be disappointed. Then never give way to a rebellious spirit.
Give not way to languor in your affections, coldness in your desires, indifference as to
the Lord’s presence or absence, or to feebleness of faith. Let the desires of your soul be,
as David’s, a “panting after God.” (Charles O. Stewart.)
The great problem of life
This cry of Job is represented to us in this passage as a cry for justice. He has been
tortured by the strange mystery of God’s providence; he has had it brought before
himself in his own painful experience, and from that has been led to look out on the
world, where he sees the same mystery enlarged and intensified.
He sees wrong unredressed, evil unpunished, innocence crushed under the iron heel of
oppression. He does not see clear evidences of God’s moral government of the world,
and he comes back ever to the personal problem with which he is faced, that he though
he is sure of his own innocence, is made to suffer, and he feels as if God had been unjust
to him. He wants it explained; he would like to argue the case, and set forth his plea; he
longs to be brought before God’s judgment seat and plead before Him, and give vent to
all the bitter thoughts in his mind. “Oh, that I knew where I might find Him! that I might
come even to His seat! I would order my cause before Him, and fill my mouth with
arguments.“ He feels God’s very presence about him on every side, ever present, but ever
eluding him; everywhere near, but everywhere avoiding him. “Behold, I go forward, but
He is not there; and backward, but I cannot perceive Him. On the left hand, where He
doth work, but I cannot behold Him; He hideth Himself on the right hand, that I cannot
see Him.” It is not his own personal pain that makes the problem, except in so far as that
has brought him before the deeper problem of God’s providence which he now
confronts. Everything would be clear and plain if he could but come into close relations
with God, and that is just what meanwhile he cannot attain. “Oh, that I knew where I
might find Him!”
I. In perhaps a wider sense than its original application in the passage of our text, these
words of Job are as the very sigh of the human heart, asking the deepest question of life.
Men have always boon conscious of God, as Job was, sure that He was near, and sure

21. also, like Job, that in Him would be the solution of every difficulty and the explanation of
every mystery. The race has been haunted by God. St. Paul’s words to the Athenians on
Mars Hill are a true reading of history, and a true reading of human nature; that all men
are so constituted by essential nature that they should seek the Lord, if haply they might
feel after Him, and find Him, though He be not far from every one of us. It is the deepest
philosophy of human history. Even when men have no definite knowledge of God they
are forced by the very needs of their nature, driven by inner necessity, to reach out after
God. Though, like Job, when they go forward He is not there, and backward they cannot
perceive Him. On the left hand and on the right hand they cannot see Him, yet they are
doomed to seek Him, if haply they might feel after Him, and find Him. Man is a religious
being, it is in his blood; he feels himself related to a power above him, and knows himself
a spirit longing for fellowship with the Divine. Thus religion is universal, found at all
stages of human history and all ages; all the varied forms of religion, all its institutions,
all its sorts of worship, are witnesses to this conscious need which the race has for God.
Job may assent to Zophar the Naamathite’s proposition that finite man cannot
completely comprehend the infinite. “Canst thou by searching find out God? Canst thou
find out the Almighty to perfection?” But this assertion does not disprove the fact of
which he is certain, that he has had fellowship with God, and has had religious
experiences of which he cannot doubt. All forms of faith are witnesses to man’s
insatiable thirst for God, and many forms of unbelief and denial are only more pathetic
witnesses still of the same fact. Many a denial of the Divine is just the bitter faith that He
is a God that hideth Himself. When men come to consciousness of self they come also to
consciousness of the unseen, a sense of relation to the power above them. The great
problem of life is to find God; not to find happiness, not even by being satiated with that
can the void be filled; but to find God; for being such as we are, with needs, longings,
aspirations, we are beaten with unsatisfied desire, struck with restless fever, till we find
rest in God. The true explanation is the biblical one, that man is made in the imago of
God, that in spirit he is akin to the eternal Spirit, there is no great gulf fixed between God
and man which cannot be bridged over. Man was created in the likeness of God, but was
born a child of God. Fellowship is possible, therefore, since there is no inherent
incapacity; there is something in man which corresponds to qualities in God. The
conclusion, which is the instinctive faith of man, is that spirit with spirit can meet. God
entered into a relation of love and fatherhood with man, man entered into a relationship
of love and sonship with God. Certain it is that man can never give up the hope and the
desire, and must be orphaned and desolate until he so does find God.
II. If it be true, as it is true, that man has ever sought God, it is a deeper fact still that
God has ever sought man. The deep of man’s desire has been answered by the deep of
God’s mercy. For every reaching forth of man there has been the stooping down of God.
History is more than the story of the human soul seeking God; in a truer and more
profound sense still is it the record of God seeking the soul. The very fact that men have
asked with some measure of belief, though struck almost with doubt at the wonder of it,
“Will God in very deed dwell with men on the earth?” is because God has dwelt with
men, has entered into terms of communion. The history of man’s attainment is the
history of God’s self-revelation. It is solely because God has been seeking man that man
has stretched out groping hands if haply he might feel after Him and find Him. Faith has
survived just because it justifies itself and because it embodies itself in experience.
Religious history is not only the dim and blundering reaching out of man’s intelligence
towards the mystery of the unknown, it is rather the history of God approaching man,
revealing His will to man, declaring Himself, offering relations of trust and fellowship. If
Christ has given expression to the character of God, if He has revealed the Father, has

22. He not consciously, conclusively, proved to us that the Divine attitude is that of seeking
men, striving to establish permanent relations of devotion and love? He has also given us
the assurance that to respond to God’s love is to know Him, the assurance that to seek
Him is to find Him, so that no longer need we ask in half despair, “Oh that I knew where
I might find Him!” Prayer, trust, worship, self-surrender, never fail of Divine response,
bringing peace and heart’s ease. When to the knowledge that God is, and is the rewarder
of them that diligently seek Him, there is added the further knowledge that God is love,
we receive a guarantee—do we not?—that not in vain is our desire after Him, a guarantee
that to seek Him is to find Him. Ah, the tragedy is not that men who seek should have
failed to find God, but that men should not seek, that men should be content to pass
through life without desiring much, or much striving, to pierce the veil of mystery. It is
man’s nature to seek God, we have said, but this primitive intuition can be overborne by
the weight of material interest, by the mass of secondary concerns, by the lust of flesh
and the lust of eye and pride of life. A thousand-fold better than this deadness of soul is
it to be still unsatisfied, still turning the eyes to the light for the blissful vision; to be still
in want, crying to the silent skies, “Oh that I knew where I might find Him!” But even
that need not be our condition. If we seek God, as we surely can, as we surely do, in the
face of Jesus Christ, the true picture is not man lost in the dark, not man seeking God his
home with palsied steps and groping hands. The true picture is the seeking God, come in
Christ to seek and save the lost. (H. Black, M. A.)
Man’s cry for fellowship with God
The provision to satisfy this longing of the soul must involve—
I. A personal manifestation of God to the soul. It is not for some thing, but for some
person that the soul cries. Pantheism may gratify the instinct of the speculative, or the
sentiment of the poetic, but it meets not this profoundest craving of our nature.
II. A benevolent manifestation of God to the soul. For an unemotional God the soul has
no affinity; for a malevolent one it has a dread. It craves for one that is kind and loving.
Its cry is for the Father; nothing else will do.
III. A propitiable manifestation of God to the soul. A sense of sin presses heavily on the
race. So mere benevolence will not do. God may be benevolent and yet not propitiable.
Does then our Bible meet the greatest necessity of human nature? Does it give a
personal, benevolent, and propitiable God? (Homilist.)
Job looking round for God
Job looks round for God, as a man might look round for an old acquaintance, an old but
long-gone friend. Memory has a great ministry to discharge in life; old times come back,
and whisper to us, correct us or bless us, as the ease may be. After listening to all new
doctors the heart says, “Where is your old friend? where the quarter whence light first
dawned? recall yourself; think out the whole case.” So Job would seem now to say, Oh
that I knew where I might find Him! I would go round the earth to discover Him; I
would fly through all the stars if I could have but one brief interview with Him; I would
count no labour hard if I might see Him as I once did. We are not always benefited by a
literally correct experience, a literally correct interpretation, even. Sometimes God has
used other means for our illumination and release, and upbuilding in holy mysteries. So
Job might have strange ideas of God, and yet those ideas might do him good. It is not

23. our place to laugh even at idolatry. There is no easier method of provoking an
unchristian laugh, or evoking an unchristian plaudit, than by railing against the gods of
the heathen. Job’s ideas of God were not ours, but they were his; and to be a man’s very
own religion is the beginning of the right life. Only let a man with his heart hand seize
some truth, hold on by some conviction, and support the same by an obedient spirit, a
beneficent life, a most charitable temper, a high and prayerful desire to know all God’s
will, and how grey and dim soever the dawn, the noontide shall be without a cloud, and
the afternoon shall be one long quiet glory. Hold on by what you do know, and do not be
laughed out of initial and incipient convictions by men who are so wise that they have
become fools. Job says, Now I bethink me, God is considerate and forbearing. “Will He
plead against me with His great power? No; but He would put strength in me” (verse 6).
It is something to know so much. Job says, Bad as I am, I might be worse; after all I am
alive; poor, desolated, impoverished, dispossessed of nearly everything I could once
handle and claim as my own, yet still I live, and life is greater than anything life can ever
have. So I am not engaged in a battle against Omnipotence; were I to fight Almightiness,
why I should be crushed in one moment. The very fact that I am spared shows that
although it may be God who is against me, He is not rude in His almightiness, He is not
thundering upon me with His great strength; He has atmosphered Himself, and is
looking in upon me by a gracious accommodation of Himself to my littleness. Let this
stand as a great and gracious lesson in human training, that however great the affliction
it is evident that God does not plead against us with His whole strength; if He did so, He
who touches the mountains and they smoke has but to lay one finger upon us—nay, the
shadow of a finger—and we should wither away. So, then, I will bless God; I will begin to
reckon thus, that after all that has gone the most has been left me; I can still inquire for
God, I can still even dumbly pray; I can grope, though I cannot see; I can put out my
hands in the great darkness, and feel something; I am not utterly cast away. Despisest
thou the riches of His goodness? Shall not the riches of His goodness lead thee to
repentance? Hast thou forgotten all the instances of forbearance? Is not His very stroke
of affliction dealt reluctantly? Does He not let the lifted thunder drop? Here is a side of
the Divine manifestation which may be considered by the simplest minds; here is a
process of spiritual reckoning which the very youngest understandings may conduct. Say
to yourself, Yes, there is a good deal left; the sun still warms the earth, the earth is still
willing to bring forth fruit, the air is full of life; I know there are a dozen graves dug all
round me, but see how the flowers grow upon them everyone; did some angel plant
them? Whence came they? Life is greater than death. The life that was in Christ
abolished death, covered it with ineffable contempt, and utterly set it aside, and its place
is taken up by life and immortality, on which are shining forever the whole glory of
heaven. Job will yet recover. He will certainly pray; perhaps he will sing; who can tell?
He begins well; he says he is not fighting Omnipotence, Omnipotence is not fighting
him, and the very fact of forbearance involves the fact of mercy. (Joseph Parker, D. D.)
How to find God
There are many senses in which we may speak of “finding God”; and in one or other of
these senses it may be we have all of us yet need to find Him.
1. Some there are who will confess at once that they are at times—not always, not
often perhaps, but sometimes—troubled with speculative doubts about God’s
existence. So many thoughtful, earnest men around them seem to regard it as an
open question whether the problems of nature may not be solved on some other

24. hypothesis.
2. Others dislike controversy, and would rather not enter upon the question whether
they have found God. These are Christians, and the first article of their creed is, “I
believe in God.”
3. Some are ready timidly to confess that again and again they have found their faith
in God’s presence fail them, when they have most needed it.
4. A happier group, by a well-ordered life of devotion, and daily attendance on the
ordinances of the Church, are keeping themselves near to God. And yet even these
may have a misgiving that they are growing too dependent on these outward helps
for the sustaining of their faith. Job’s words may well awaken an echo in all our
hearts. “Oh that I knew where I might find Him!” There is comfort in the fact that
holy men of old felt this same desire to find God in some deeper sense than they had
yet attained to. If they felt it, we need not be unduly distressed if we feel it also. How
then are we to seek to find God? Intellectually or otherwise? Not to mere intellect,
but to a higher faculty, the moral and spiritual faculty. When we speak of knowing a
thing intellectually, we mean that we know it by demonstration of sense or reason.
When we speak of knowing a thing morally or spiritually, we mean that we either
know it intuitively or take it on trust. We do not mean that the evidence in this latter
case is less certain than in the former; it may be far more certain. Scepticism in
religion is simply that failure of faith which is sure to result from an endeavour to
grasp religious truths by a faculty that was never intended to grasp them. But how
am I to know what is a Divine revelation, and what is not? He who is in direct
correspondence with God, holding direct intercourse with God, will not need any
further evidence of God’s existence. If any here would find God, let him first go to the
four Gospels, and try to see clearly there what Christ promises to do for him. Then let
him take this promise on trust, as others have done, and act upon it. And if
perseveres, he will sooner or later most surely find God. (Canon J. P. Norris, B. D.)
The universal cry
When Job uttered this cry he was in great distress. That God is just is a fact; that men
suffer is also a fact; and both these facts are found side by side in the same universe
governed by one presiding will. How to reconcile the two, how to explain human
suffering under the government of a righteous Ruler, is the great problem of the Book of
Job. It is a question which has occupied the thoughts of the thinking in every age. The
form in which it presents itself here is this,—Is God righteous in afflicting an innocent
man? The friends say there are just two ways of it. Either you are guilty or God is unjust.
It is not so much the character of Job that is at stake as the character of God Himself;
the Almighty Himself stands at the bar of human reason. The patriarch felt assured that
there was a righteous God who would not afflict unjustly, and he cries, “Oh that I knew
where I might find Him!” Obviously he was not ignorant of the Divine Being, not
ignorant of His existence, but ignorant how He was to be approached.
I. The cry of the human soul after God. Notice the object of the cry. It is for God. It goes
straight to the mark, right over all lower objects and minor aims. He felt he had come to
a crisis in his life, when none but God could avail. Give me God, and I have enough.
When Job uttered this cry he unconsciously struck the keynote of universal desire. It is
the cry of the human race after God. It is the instinctive cry of the human soul. Nature
told men that there was a God, but it could not lead them to His seat. The sages went to

25. philosophy for an answer, but philosophy said, “It is not for me.” In view of this fruitless
search, a question might be started, a question easier to ask than to answer,—Why did
God keep Himself and His plans hidden from mankind so long? This is one of the secret
things that belong to God. We cannot tell, and we need not speculate.
II. The gospel answer to the text. Christ in human form satisfies the longing of the
human spirit. He is Immanuel,—God with us. You will find the Father in the Son, you
will find God in Christ. This cry may come from a soul who has never known God at all,
or it may come from one who has lost the sense of His favour and longs for restoration.
In either case the cry can be answered only in Christ. Have you found God? If you will
take Christ as your guide, He will lead you up to God. (David Merson, B. D.)
The soul’s inquiry after a personal God
It is characteristic of man to ask questions. Question asking proceeds from personal
need, curiosity, or love of knowledge, either for its own sake or its relative usefulness.
We feel that we are dependent upon others for some direction or solution of difficulties;
hence we ask for direction or instruction, because the limited character of our nature,
and our dependence upon one another demand it. There are questions man asks himself,
in his secret communion and examination with and of himself; there are some he asks of
the universe; but the greatest and gravest are those he asks direct of God in sighs and
supplications both by night and day. The sentence of the text is a question which the
soul, in its search after God, continually asks; which is one of the greatest questions of
life.
I. The need of the soul of a personal God. The human soul ever cries for God. It never
ceases in its cry, and is weary in its search and effort in seeking the absolute reality and
good of life. The soul needs an object to commune with, and this it finds in a Divine
personality, and nowhere else. The soul asks, Where is the living One? The soul needs
security, and that is not to be found according to the language of conviction but in a
personal God. The soul seeks unity, hence it seeks a personal God.
II. The soul in search after a personal God. So near is the relation between conviction of
the need of God, and the search after Him, that in the degree one is felt, the other is
done. The soul is not confined to one place, or one mode of means in the search.
III. The perplexity of the soul in its search for the personal God. The perplexity arises
partly from the mystery of the object of search.
IV. The secret confidence of the soul in the personal God whom it seeks. There is a
general confidence in God’s mercy and in His all-sufficiency. (T. Hughes.)
Craving for God
These words are the utterance of a yearning and dissatisfied soul. The words were put
into the mouth of Job, the well-known sufferer, whose patience under accumulated
calamities is proverbial. Perhaps Job was not a real individual, but the hero of a majestic
poem, through which the writer expresses his thoughts on the world-old problem that
suffering is permitted by a good God to afflict even the righteous. Nevertheless, the
writer may have had some special sufferer in his eye. No man without experience could
have drawn these sublime discussions from his own fancy. They reflect too truly the
sorrows and perplexities of human hearts in this life of trial. This man cries out, almost

26. in despair, “Oh that I knew where I might find Him!” Find whom? God, the Almighty
and Eternal, the Maker and Ruler of all. What a longing! What a search! In the mere fact
of that search the downcast soul proclaims its lofty nature. And whoever is prompted by
his needs and sorrows to cherish this desire, is raised and bettered thereby.
I. The search for God. Among the acts possible to man only, is that he alone can search
for God. Strange are the contrasts which human nature exhibits. Language cannot
describe the elevation to which man is capable of rising—the lofty self-devotion, the
quest for truth, above all, the earnest search for God. Of all the many things men seek,
surely this is the noblest, this search for God.
II. The search for God unavailing. This is an exclamation of despair about finding God.
It seems to be Job’s chief trouble that he cannot penetrate the clouds and darkness
which surround his Maker.
III. The search for God rewarded. The deep, unquenchable craving of frail, suffering,
sinful men to find their Maker, and to find Him their friend, is met in Jesus Christ. (T.
M. Herbert, M. A.)
Oh that I knew where I might find Him
As these words are often the language of a penitent heart seeking the Saviour,
Comforter, and Sanctifier, inquire—
I. Who are the characters that employ this language?
1. The sinner under conviction.
2. Believers in distress.
3. Penitent backsliders.
II. Point out where the Lord may be found.
1. In His works, as a God of power.
2. In providence, as a God of wisdom and goodness.
3. In the human breast, as a God of purity and justice.
4. In the ordinances of religion, as a God of grace. It is chiefly on the throne of mercy
that He is graciously found.
III. From what sources you draw arguments.
1. From His power.
2. His goodness.
3. His mercy.
4. His truth.
5. His impartiality.
6. His justice.
The text is the language of sincere regret; restless desire; guilty fear; anxious inquiry;
willing submission. (J. Summerfield, A. M.)

27. Man desiring God
God comes only into the heart that wants Him. Do I really, with my whole heart, desire
to find God, and to give myself wholly into His hands? Do not mistake, if you please.
This is the starting point. If you be wrong at this point my lesson will be taught entirely
in vain. Everything depends upon the tone and purpose of the heart. If there is one here,
really and truly, with all the desire of the soul, longing to find God, there is no reason
why He should not be found, by such a seeker, ere the conclusion of the present service.
How is it with our hearts? Do they go out but partially after God? Then they will see little
or nothing of Him. Do they go out with all the stress of their affection, all the passion of
their love,—do they make this their one object and all-consuming purpose? Then God
will be found of them; and man and his Maker shall see one another, as it were, face to
face, and new life shall begin in the human soul. Let me say, truly and distinctly, that it is
possible to desire God under the impulse of merely selfish fear, and that such desire after
God seldom ends in any good. It is true that fear is an element in every useful ministry.
We would not, for one moment, undervalue the importance of fear in certain conditions
of the human mind. At the same time, it is distinctly taught in the Holy Book that men
may, in certain times, under the influence of fear, seek God, and God will turn His back
upon them, will shut His ears when they cry, and will not listen to the voice of their
appeal. Nothing can be more distinctly revealed than this awful doctrine, that God
comes to men within certain seasons and opportunities, that He lays down given
conditions of approach, that He even fixes times and periods, and that the day will come
when He will say, “I will send a famine upon the earth.” Not a famine of bread, or a thirst
of water, but of hearing the Word of the Lord. When men are in great physical pain,
when cholera is in the air, when smallpox is killing its thousands week by week, when
wheat fields are turned into graveyards, when God’s judgments are abroad in the earth,
there be many who turn their ashen faces to the heavens! What if God will not hear their
cowardly prayer? When God lifts His sword, there be many that say, “We would flee
from this judgment.” And when He comes in the last, grand, terrible development of His
personality, many will cry unto the rocks, and unto the hills to hide them from His face;
but the rocks and the hills will hear them not, for they will be deaf at the bidding of God!
I am obliged, therefore, you see, as a Christian teacher, to make this dark side of the
question very plain indeed; because there are persons who imagine that they may put off
these greatest considerations of life until times of sickness, and times of withdrawment
from business, and times of plague, and seasons that seem to appeal more pathetically
than others to their religious nature. God has distinctly said, “Because I called, and they
refused; I stretched out My hand, and no man regarded; I will mock at their calamity, I
will laugh at their afflictions, I will mock when their fear cometh—when their fear
cometh as desolation, and judgment cometh upon them as a whirlwind! Then they will
cry unto Me, but I will not hear!” Now, lest any man should be under thee impression
that he can call upon God at any time and under any circumstances, I wish to say, loudly,
with a trumpet blast, There is a black mark at a certain part of your life; up to that you
may seek God and find Him,—beyond it you may cry, and hear nothing but the echo of
your own voice! How then does it stand with us in this matter of desire? Is our desire
after God living, loving, intense, complete? Why, that desire itself is prayer; and the very
experience of that longing brings heaven into the soul! Let me ask you again, Do you
really desire to find God, to know Him, and to love Him? That desire is the beginning of
the new birth; that longing is the pledge that your prayers shall be accomplished in the
largest, greatest blessing that the living God can bestow upon you. Still it may be
important to go a little further into this, and examine what our object is in truly desiring

28. to find God. It may be possible that even here our motive may be mixed; and if there is
the least alloy in our motive, that alloy will tell against us. The desire must be pure.
There must be no admixture of vanity or self-sufficiency; it must be a desire of true,
simple, undivided love. Now, how is it with the desire which we at this moment may be
presumed to experience? Let me ask this question, What is your object in desiring to find
God? Is it to gratify intellectual vanity? That is possible. It is quite conceivable that a
man of a certain type and cast of mind shall very zealously pursue theological questions
without being truly, profoundly religious. It is one thing to have an interest in scientific
theology, and another tiring really and lovingly to desire God for religious purposes. Is it
not perfectly conceivable that a man shall take delight in dissecting the human frame,
that he may find out its anatomy and understand its construction; and yet do so without
any intention ever to heal the sick, or feed the hungry, or clothe the naked? Some men
seem to be born with a desire to anatomise; they like to dissect, to find out the secret of
the human frame, to understand its construction and the interdependence of its several
parts. So far we rejoice in their perseverance and their discoveries. But it is perfectly
possible for such men to care for anatomy without caring for philanthropy; to care about
anatomy, from a scientific point of view, without any ulterior desire to benefit any living
creature. So it is perfectly conceivable that man shall make the study of God a kind of
intellectual hobby, without his heart being stirred by deep religious concern to know
God as the Father, Saviour, Sanctifier, Sovereign of the human race. I, therefore, do not
beg you to excuse me in the slightest degree in putting this question so penetratingly. It
is a vital question. Do you seek to know more of God simply as a scientific theological
inquirer? If so, you are off the line of my observations, and the Gospel I have to preach
will hardly reach you in your remote position. (Joseph Parker, D. D.)
Job’s thoughts concerning an absent God
Whether there ever was such a being as a speculative atheist, it may not be easy to
determine; but there are two classes of atheists which are very easily found. There are
some who are atheists by disposition. There are also practical atheists.
I. Job’s condition. “Even today is my complaint bitter: my stroke is heavier than my
groaning.” In some this murmuring and repining is a natural infirmity; they seem to be
constitutionally morbid and querulous. In others this is a moral infirmity, arising from
pride and unbelief and discontent, against which it becomes us always carefully to guard.
II. Job’s desire. “Oh that I knew where I might find Him! that I might come even to Iris
seat!” He does not express the name of God. Here we see an addition to his distress; he
was now in a state of desertion. God can never be absent from His people, as to His
essential presence, or even as to His spiritual presence. But He may be absent as to what
our divines call His sensible presence, or the manifestation of His favour and of the
designs of His dealings with us. This greatly enhances any external affliction. For the
presence of God, which is always necessary, is never so sweet as it is in the day of
trouble. It is a sad thing to be without the presence of God; but it is far worse to be
senseless of our need of it. The desire after God arises from three causes.
1. The new nature. Persons will desire according to their conviction and their
disposition.
2. Experience. When they first sought after God, they felt their need of film
3. A consciousness of their entire dependence upon Him. They feel that all their

29. sufficiency is of God. Observe, in the case of Job, the earnestness of his desire.
III. His resolution.
1. He says, “I would order my cause before Him.” Which shows that the Divine
presence would not overpower him, so as not to leave sense, reason, and speech.
2. He says, “I would fill my mouth with arguments.” Not that these are necessary to
excite and move a Being who is love itself; but these are proper to affect and
encourage us.
3. He says, “I would know the words which He would answer me, and understand
what He would say unto me.” In general, a Christian wishes to know the Divine
pleasure concerning him. You will attach little importance to prayer, if you are
regardless of God’s answer to it.
IV. His confidence and expectation. The power of God is great. Notice the blessedness of
having this power employed for us. “He will put strength in me.” How dreadful must it
be for God to “plead against a man by His great power.” (William Jay.)
Job’s appeal to God
Taking the Book of Job as a whole, it may be called a dramatic epic poem of remarkable
merit, in which the author graphically discusses the general distribution of good and evil
in the world, inquiring whether or not there is a righteous distribution of this good and
evil here on earth, and whether or not the dealings of God with men are according to
character. Job was saved from consenting to the conclusions of the three friends,
through the consciousness of personal integrity and the confidence of his heart in a
loving God. Job’s struggle was desperate. Those long-continued days and weeks were a
trial of faith beyond our estimate. The question was not whether Job would bear his
multiplied afflictions with a stoical heroism, but whether he would still turn to God,
would rest in the calm confidence of his heart that God would be his justification and
vindication. We now look at this storm-tossed man in his extremity, and discover him—
I. Anxious to find how he can get his cause before God for arbitration. Job illustrates
what ought to be true of every man. We should be anxious to know what God thinks of
us, rather than what men think of us. We should remember that One is to be our Judge
who knows our heart, before whom, in the day of final assize, we are to appear for
inspection, and whose recognition of our integrity will insure blessedness for us in the
great hereafter.
II. We discover Job calmly confident that God’s decision of his cause will be just. He
does not imagine for a moment that God will make mistakes concerning him, or that
Omnipotence will take advantage of his weakness.
III. In great perplexity, because he seems to be excluded from the trial which he seeks.
The lament of this man here is painful and mysterious. Job’s hope had been that God
would appear somewhere. But all is night and silence. This is human experience caused
by human infirmities. Life is a season of discipline, a season of education and evolution.
IV. We find Job calm in the assured watchfulness of God over him, and in his
confidence of ultimate vindication. Here is supreme faith in the all-knowing and finally
delivering God. Job’s faith is the world’s need. (Justin E. Twitchell.)

30. Where God is found
This Book of Job represents a discussion upon God’s providential relations to the world,
and shows how the subject perplexed and baffled the minds of men in those early days in
which it was written. God, in the book, does not give the required explanations; but,
pointing out the marks of His power, wisdom, and goodness, in His natural works,
leaves His hearers to the exercise of a pure and simple trust. With reference to the loss of
God’s presence, over which men mourn in our day—this longing to find God and to come
unto His mercy seat, which is so widespread and so unsatisfied—we must not treat it
with reproof due only to moral delinquency or religious indifference; but do our best to
furnish direction which reason and conscience will approve. Call to mind the
circumstances under which men have been thrown into all this doubt and perplexity.
Then we shall find it is not that they have been intellectually brought into a position in
which it is impossible to believe in Divine communion; but that the special system with
which the forms of Divine communion have, during the last few centuries, been
associated, has broken down, and left men without a perfect basis for their faith, and
without an intellectual justification of the act of Divine communion. If you feel this to be
true, if under the sense of the worthlessness of those systems of divinity which your
conscience even more than your understanding rejects, you are yet longing for Divine
communion, I have now to assert that God is to be found, not through systems of
divinity, or processes of logical thought, but by the simple, childlike surrender of the
soul to those influences which God, through all the objects of truth, goodness, beauty,
and purity, exerts directly on it. The sense of God’s presence is obtained through the
pure and quiet contemplation of Divine objects. “To seek our divinity merely in books
and writings is to seek the living among the dead.” It is only of the knowledge of God in
His relations to ourselves that I speak. In our knowledge of God two elements are
necessarily mingled.
1. There is the feeling which is excited within us when we come preparedly into
contact with what is Divine. The soul feels God’s presence, however He may be
named, and with whatever investiture He may be clothed. But then the
understanding interprets the devout feeling Divine objects awaken, by representing
God under such forms as its culture enables it to think out. God has appointed many
objects through which He makes His revelation directly to the soul. Everything in the
natural and moral world, which greatly surpasses man’s comprehension or
attainments, becomes the medium through which God speaks to the soul, touches its
devout feeling, and so reveals Himself. You may say, “It is not feeling I want,, but a
justification of my feeling; a reconciliation of my feeling with the facts science,
history, and criticism have taught me.” Nay, it is feeling, intense, irresistible feeling,
of God’s presence with us and in us that we need. No thinking can give you back the
God you have lost; it is in feeling, the feeling awakened by coming into contact with
God, that alone you can find Him. There is, however, one condition—a man must
come with a pure heart, a free conscience, and a purpose set to do God’s will. (J.
Cranbrook.)
Job’s spiritual sentiments
These words exhibit a pattern of the frame of spirit habitually felt, in a good degree, by
every child of God, while he is in the posture of seeking for the presence of God, and for

31. intimate communion with Him.
I. The different spiritual sentiments implied in this holy exclamation. Here is—
1. A solemn appeal from the unjust censures of men, to the knowledge, love, and
faithfulness of God, the supreme Judge. Apostasy from God hath rendered mankind
very foolish and erroneous judges in spiritual matters. The more of God there is in
any man’s character and exercises, the more is that man exposed to the malignant
censures, not only of the world at large, but even of Christians of an inferior class.
For the weakest Christians are most forward to go beyond their depths, in judging
confidently of things above their knowledge. Against assaults of this kind the
children of the Most High have a strong refuge. The shield of faith quenches the fiery
and envenomed darts of calumny, misrepresentation, and malice.
2. An intended bold expostulation with God, in respect of the strangeness and
intricacy of His dealings with His afflicted servant. It is one of the hardest conflicts in
the spiritual life, when God Himself appears as a party contending with His own
children. Job could discover no special reason for God’s severity against him. His
faith naturally vents itself in the way of humble, yet bold expostulation.
3. A perplexing sense of distance from God. Renewed souls have such perceptions of
God as are mysterious to themselves and incredible to others. When God seems to
hide His face, an awful consternation, confusion, dejection, and anguish are the
consequence. This situation is the more perplexing when, as was Job’s case, there is
felt a very great need for the presence of God, and when all endeavours to recover it
seem to be vain. Then the conclusion is sometimes rashly drawn by the people of
God, “My way is hid from the Lord, and my judgment is passed over from my God.”
But in all these afflictions of His people, the Lord Himself is afflicted.
4. Job’s exclamation expresses most vehement desires after the spiritual presence of
God.
5. What is particularly to be attended to is the nature of the access to God which Job
desired. He was in pursuit of the most near and intimate communion with God.
II. Bring home the whole of these sentiments.
1. Such instances of deep and sober spiritual exercise furnish a convincing proof of
the reality of religion, and of the certainty of the great truths with which the power of
religion is so closely connected.
2. The things which have been treated of give us a view of the nature as well as of the
reality of religion.
3. Such characters as that of Job carry in them the condemnation of various classes
of people.
4. This subject may be applied for the encouragement of the upright. (J. Love, D. D.)
The believer under affliction
Job was justly chargeable with a disposition to self-justification, though he was not
guilty of that insincerity, hypocrisy, and contempt of God which his precipitate and
unfeeling friends alleged against him. This self-approving temper God took means to
correct. One of the methods He used was, hiding His face from him, and leaving him to
feel the wretchedness and helplessness of this state of spiritual desertion. The text may