Job Chapter 7
In Response to Eliphaz, Job Cries Out to God
A. The comfortless suffering of Job.
(Job 7:1-5) The hard service of Job’s suffering.
“Is there not a time of hard service for man on earth?
Are not his days also like the days of a hired man?
Like a servant who earnestly desires the shade,
And like a hired man who eagerly looks for his wages,
So I have been allotted months of futility,
And wearisome nights have been appointed to me.
When I lie down, I say,
‘When shall I arise,
And the night be ended?’
For I have had my fill of tossing till dawn.
My flesh is caked with worms and dust,
My skin is cracked and breaks out afresh.”
a. I have been allotted months of futility: Job compares his suffering to the hard service of a laborer or soldier, a man who works not because he wants to, but because he must. In the ancient world, a hired man endured long days with little relief, counting the hours until shade or wages arrived. Job sees his life reduced to this same pattern, labor without satisfaction, endurance without reward. His suffering feels assigned, measured out to him, not random, which intensifies his anguish because it seems appointed rather than accidental.
i. The phrase hard service carries the idea of compulsory labor, often associated with military duty. Ancient translators understood this clearly. The Latin Vulgate rendered the thought as life being a warfare upon earth, and the early English Coverdale translation captured it with the language of battle. Job is not describing mild hardship, but a forced enlistment into suffering. He feels drafted into pain against his will, required to endure without knowing the purpose or the end.
b. Wearisome nights have been appointed to me: Job shifts from the general burden of life to the specific misery of his body. His suffering does not pause when the day ends. Night, which should bring rest, only multiplies his torment. Sleeplessness stretches time unbearably, so that each hour feels endless. His body refuses him relief, and his mind cannot escape the pain long enough to rest.
i. My flesh is caked with worms and dust: Job describes his physical condition with graphic honesty. His skin disease is so severe that it appears infested and decaying, cracking open repeatedly rather than healing. The language conveys not exaggeration, but humiliation. His body has become a source of revulsion even to himself. Clarke remarked that the image is almost too dreadful to elaborate upon, underscoring the depth of Job’s physical ruin.
(Job 7:6-10) Job mourns the futility of life.
“My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle,
And are spent without hope.
Oh, remember that my life is a breath!
My eye will never again see good.
The eye of him who sees me will see me no more;
While your eyes are upon me, I shall no longer be.
As the cloud disappears and vanishes away,
So he who goes down to the grave does not come up.
He shall never return to his house,
Nor shall his place know him anymore.”
a. My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle: Job now reflects on life as a whole. Though each night drags on in agony, the sum of his life seems to be passing too quickly to matter. The weaver’s shuttle moves rapidly back and forth, almost unseen, and Job feels his days have slipped by just as silently and just as irretrievably. His suffering has stripped life of meaning, so that time itself feels wasted, spent without hope.
i. There is a wordplay in the Hebrew that deepens the tragedy. The word translated hope can also mean thread. Job’s days run swiftly like the shuttle, but they end because the thread is gone. Life is cut short not with ceremony, but because there is simply nothing left to sustain it. This layered meaning reinforces Job’s sense that his life has unraveled beyond repair.
ii. Job’s despair reaches a critical point here. He no longer believes healing is possible. In his mind, death is not merely likely, it is the only release from pain. The loss of hope weighs heavier on him than the disease itself.
b. So he who goes down to the grave does not come up: Job speaks from the limited perspective of his present anguish. He describes death as final and irreversible, like a cloud that dissolves and never reforms. From the viewpoint of the living world, the dead do not return to resume ordinary life. Homes are left behind, places forget those who once occupied them, and relationships are severed.
This statement must be understood within the tension of the book. Job will later confess profound confidence in bodily resurrection and personal vindication before God. Here, however, he speaks honestly from despair, not from settled doctrine. His words reflect the emotional darkness of suffering, not a denial of future hope, but the cry of a man who feels that everything familiar and good is slipping permanently out of reach.
In Response to Eliphaz, Job Cries Out to God
B. Job’s complaint to God.
(Job 7:11-16) Job’s anguish: “My soul chooses strangling.”
“Therefore I will not restrain my mouth;
I will speak in the anguish of my spirit;
I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.
Am I a sea, or a sea serpent,
That You set a guard over me?
When I say, ‘My bed will comfort me,
My couch will ease my complaint,’
Then You scare me with dreams
And terrify me with visions,
So that my soul chooses strangling
And death rather than my body.
I loathe my life;
I would not live forever.
Let me alone,
For my days are but a breath.”
a. I will speak in the anguish of my spirit: Job now turns his complaint directly toward God. He no longer restrains his words, because his suffering has reached a point where silence feels dishonest. The anguish of his spirit and the bitterness of his soul overflow into speech. Job does not curse God, but he does complain, laying his raw emotions openly before Him. This is not polished theology, but unfiltered lament, the cry of a man who feels overwhelmed by divine pressure.
Job asks whether he is a sea or a sea serpent, some dangerous and chaotic force that must be constantly restrained. In the ancient world, the sea symbolized uncontrollable power and threat, and the sea serpent represented a creature of chaos and destruction. Job wonders why God treats him as if he were something that must be guarded, monitored, and confined. He feels watched, restricted, and restrained by God’s hand.
i. Spurgeon observed that some people feel as if they are constantly shadowed by God, followed everywhere by His attention. Job expresses that same feeling. Wherever he turns, he senses God’s gaze upon him, not as comfort, but as pressure. He feels unable to escape divine scrutiny, even in his misery.
ii. Spurgeon also warns against Job’s line of reasoning. Arguing from human insignificance is weak pleading, because it is often the small and frail things that require the most careful watching. A sinful human being, though outwardly weak, is capable of great moral destruction. In that sense, man may be more dangerous than the sea or a sea monster. Job’s question is understandable, but it underestimates the seriousness of human sin and weakness.
iii. In truth, fallen humanity resembles the sea more than we care to admit. Human nature is restless, often furious, never fully satisfied, destructive when unchecked, and resistant to obedience. Job’s protest exposes a deeper truth about the human condition, even though he speaks from pain rather than reflection.
iv. Job’s greatest suffering at this point is inward. His physical affliction is severe, but his spiritual distress cuts deeper. His sense of God’s presence has shifted from comfort to terror, from refuge to perceived threat. His inner turmoil outweighs his outward wounds.
b. You scare me with dreams: Job explains that even sleep offers no refuge. When he lies down hoping for relief, his mind betrays him. Dreams and visions disturb his rest, turning the night into another arena of torment. Sleep, which should restore strength, instead magnifies fear. He is afraid even to close his eyes, knowing that terrifying images await him.
i. Clarke describes this state as nearly unbearable. Job needs sleep, yet fears it. His imagination becomes an instrument of suffering, leaving him exhausted both day and night. There is no pause in his pain.
c. So that my soul chooses strangling... I loathe my life: Job reaches one of his darkest confessions. His misery has become so intense that his soul prefers death to continued existence in his body. This is not a romantic longing for death, but a desperate desire for relief. He does not ask God to kill him directly, but he admits that life itself has become unbearable.
i. Job’s plea, “Let me alone,” reveals how distorted his perception of God has become under suffering. At this moment, God feels like the tormentor. The reader knows that Job’s suffering is mediated through Satan and permitted by God for a greater purpose, but Job does not have access to that knowledge. His complaint is sincere, though his understanding is flawed.
(Job 7:17-21) Job appeals to God: “Have I sinned?”
“What is man, that You should exalt him,
That You should set Your heart on him,
That You should visit him every morning,
And test him every moment?
How long?
Will You not look away from me,
And let me alone till I swallow my saliva?
Have I sinned?
What have I done to You, O watcher of men?
Why have You set me as Your target,
So that I am a burden to myself?
Why then do You not pardon my transgression,
And take away my iniquity?
For now I will lie down in the dust,
And You will seek me diligently,
But I will no longer be.”
a. What is man, that You should exalt him... And test him every moment: Job echoes language that later appears in Psalm 8, but with a radically different tone. Instead of praise, his words drip with bewilderment and distress. God’s attention, which should be an honor, feels oppressive to him. Being visited every morning and tested every moment seems cruel rather than gracious. Job wonders why God will not simply turn His gaze away.
i. The similarity to Psalm 8 is striking. It is likely that Job’s lament came first, and that David later transformed this anguished question into a hymn of worship. The same truth can be seen either as glory or as burden, depending on the heart’s condition.
ii. Though Job asks “What is man,” he underestimates the answer. Humanity must be of immense value if God invests such careful attention. As Meyer noted, when a craftsman spends years perfecting a single jewel, its worth becomes undeniable. God’s intense involvement in Job’s life points to significance, not insignificance, even though Job cannot see it.
iii. Till I swallow my saliva expresses Job’s desire for even the briefest reprieve. The phrase refers to a single instant, the smallest imaginable pause. Job begs for one moment without divine pressure, a breath without pain.
b. What have I done to You, O watcher of men: Job openly questions God’s justice. He asks what sin could justify such treatment. If he has sinned, why not forgive him and remove the punishment. Job cannot reconcile God’s holiness with what feels like relentless targeting. He feels like an arrow pinned beneath God’s aim.
i. Some ancient scribes appear to have softened Job’s words because of their boldness. The older reading suggests that Job felt he had become a burden to God Himself, not merely to himself. This reveals how deeply wounded Job feels, perceiving God as distant and uncaring.
ii. Job’s theology here is limited. He reasons that if God is so great, human sin should not affect Him. Yet the truth is the opposite. God is so great that He is personally affected by human sin, wounded by rebellion, and grieved by broken fellowship. Job’s thinking, like that of his friends, is constrained by an overly narrow philosophy.
iii. The reader benefits from knowing what Job does not. Job believes he is being punished, when in reality he is being honored. God is refining him, elevating him, and setting him apart as a testimony for all generations. His suffering is not evidence of rejection, but of divine confidence. God is shaping Job into one of the great examples of faith and perseverance in redemptive history.
c. Now I will lie down in the dust: Job ends this section with resignation. He speaks as though death will end both his suffering and God’s attention. This reflects one of his bleakest moments regarding the afterlife. He imagines God seeking him after death, but too late, because he will no longer exist in the world he knows.
i. Job still believes everything he knows about God, yet God’s ways now seem incomprehensible. His mind is strained to the breaking point. The reader understands that God watches Job with compassion and approval, even while remaining silent until the testing is complete.
ii. This passage confronts a hard question. Much is said about faith to be healed, but there is also a faith required to endure sickness. Job’s story forces the reader to reckon with trusting God, not only when He removes suffering, but when He allows it to remain.
