Is not man conscripted to labor on earth,
Job 7:1–9, LSB
And are not his days like the days of a hired man?
As a slave who pants for the shade,
And as a hired man who eagerly hopes for his wages,
So am I apportioned months of worthlessness,
And nights of trouble are appointed me.
If I lie down I say,
‘When shall I arise?’
But the twilight continues,
And I am saturated with tossing until dawn.
My flesh is clothed with worms and a crust of dirt;
My skin scabs over and flows out again.
My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle,
And come to an end without hope.
Remember that my life is but wind;
My eye will not again see good.
The eye of him who sees me will behold me no longer;
Your eyes will be on me, but I will not be.
A cloud vanishes, and it is gone,
So he who goes down to Sheol does not come up.
The wisdom writings (Job, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and others) of the Jewish Scriptures converse on many topics common to human experience. One of these is the topic of a long life lived well. If all goes well, Proverbs says, we treat other well, and are treated well, life should be long and satisfying. And that’s generally true. But these documents also interject with an observed reality: life is sometimes cut short, there are always buffoons, and even a long life is not necessarily filled with satisfaction, meaning and goodness.
Chapter seven of the book of Job finds us in the middle of his response to one of his friends, who all together waste not a small amount of ink on their foregone conclusions about reward, punishment and the ways of God’s justice. Job seems to not want for ideas in reply, and here continues his struggle with the apparent meaninglessness of his own hardship. In his mind, suffering is equated with punishment of the wicked, and since he didn’t do anything wrong, why is he being punished?
When work is not working
As a slave who pants for the shade,
And as a hired man who eagerly hopes for his wages,
Job compares the incongruity of his dilemma with workers who don’t think much of their work. These only think about coffee breaks, quitting time, getting paid and finally enjoying the rest of their day. They see their efforts as meaningless, their labour as pointness in the overall scheme of things. That just can’t be a sensible way to spend the best waking hours of one’s life, Job imagines.
Wherein lies the dignity of the slave’s work? And where is the honour in Job’s suffering? Simply looking for the end of hardship doesn’t give any dignity to hardship itself.
When rest is not resting
If I lie down I say, ‘When shall I arise?’
But the twilight continues, and I am saturated with tossing until dawn.
The same question is asked of the sleeper who never actually gets to sleep. Hours after bedtime, we are still awake, fed up with staring at the ceiling and the clock radio. Is not the purpose of resting to rest? It would be a useless endeavour to get into bed and toss and turn all night, just for kicks. Sleep is the goal—everyone knows that. But what is the goal of Job’s situation? Can’t there be found meaning in even one moment of it, day or night?
The sum of the problem
So am I apportioned months of worthlessness
Three words in this phrase anchor our thoughts as we try and sort this out.
“Apportioned” (Heb. נָחַל nâḥal) is very commonly used when describing the “inheritance” that the children of Israel will receive upon entering the land promised to Abraham. This word is loaded with anticipation, longing, and fixation as something looked forward to all day, day after day. But, to quote the weary traveller, are we there yet?
“Months” (Heb. יֶרַח yeraḥ) could also be translated “lunar cycles”, if we wanted to be a little less tidy with our English. The cyclical part of it is very important here, like a Groundhog day of unproductive effort. Like a wound that scabs, weeps, scabs again, weeps again…. When will this pointless repetition come to an end? Today, tomorrow, the next day? Through the eyes of natural forecasting, there’s no real change in sight.
“Worthlessness” (Heb. שַׁו shav) is a synonym for another Hebrew word often used in Job and Ecclesiates, הֶבֶל heḇel, translated “vanity” or “meaningless”. (I like how Peterson interprets heḇel as “smoke” in The Message.) It’s ephemeral nature is echoed again in 7:9 with language of vanishing clouds, visible one minute, gone the next.
What’s Job’s summary so far? That his personal “promised land” is ironically a wasteland of cyclical uselessness. Bleak.
Heaven knows life is short
Man is like a breath; his days are like a passing shadow. Ps. 144:4
As the Author of life and wisdom, the man Jesus knew this. Mark 1:35 tell us that he rose early in the morning to go pray in solitude. Why, was it because like the poor fellow in Job’s speech he just couldn’t get to sleep, restless all night, and finally thought, well crap, I might as well just get up then? Or was he haunted by days spent without purpose, without dignity?
Or was it because he knew the shortness of time, and felt pressed to make every moment of his life-lived-in-time meaningful, worth something. Besides prayer, Mark 1:39 says what Jesus also did with his apportioned time: speaking truth, and healing the infirmed. He was determined to make good on doing good, and didn’t need a long, easy life to satisfy his Father’s purpose for him. Just a few dozen months—many lined or filled with difficulty and sorrow—could honour God just as well.
Let us listen to our brothers, Job and Jesus, who warn us against complacency and spur us on, by example, to attentiveness and presence, to see that good is yet done. Let us feel the fleetingness of life, I mean really feel it, and harness that feeling in anticipation for his voice, his presence, his action in us and through us today.
How to make good on doing good? Pray his kingdom come, resist evil, speak and touch for blessing and healing. Be present amidst hardship to see it through to its end. And be taught to count our days, that we may do with them what is wise (Ps. 90:12).