Thou washest away the things, &c.— And the inundations of waters sweep away the soil of the earth. So the hope of man hast thou utterly destroyed. Heath, who renders the beginning of the 18th verse, for as the mountain falling wasteth away, and the rock may be removed from its place. Job, in these latter verses, returns to his deploration of that mortality which consumes and destroys the human race; which he illustrates and exaggerates by several similies: as of a mountain fallen, a rock plucked up by the roots, stones worn away by the continual lapse of water, and the earth itself carried away and consumed by inundations. See Schultens. Chappelow renders the 22nd verse, But his flesh shall have pain for him, and his dead body shall mourn for him: To which version, says he, an objection will possibly be raised from what we read in the 21st verse; for there it is mentioned as if man, after his departure hence, had no knowledge or perception of his sons coming to honour, or of their being brought low; therefore, how can it be said that his flesh shall have pain, and his soul, or dead body, shall mourn? This must be understood in an allegorical or poetical sense. Thus the Jews used to say, "The worm is troublesome to a dead man, as the needle is to the flesh of the living." Job writes in the same style, chap. Job 21:33. The clods of the valley shall be sweet unto him, i.e. when brought to the grave.
REFLECTIONS.—We have here,
1. A lively and affecting description of man, that is born of a woman, a dying worm, sprung from dying worms. He is of few days, so short his passing existence, that years or months are too long to reckon by: he is the creature of a day, a few short days terminate his mortal being, and full of trouble withal. From the hour that in cries he first bemoaned his entrance into a wretched world, sorrow is his portion; infancy, youth, manhood, age, have their attendant diseases, griefs, vexations, cares, and fears; till death, the king of terrors, closes the scene. In his best estate, he cometh forth like a flower, which of itself would quickly fade, but is seldom left to such a gradual decay; and is cut down, by the stroke of disease or accident, as grass before the mower's scythe: so transitory is all his excellence! He seeth also as a shadow; there is no more substantial good in his short-lived enjoyments, than there is solidity in a shadow; and, what makes them still more vain, he continueth not, but hastens from life to death, as the shadow of the flying bird: withal full of sin by nature as of sorrow, and indeed thence all his sorrow flows. He came a corrupted creature into the world, a child of fallen man, begotten in his image, for who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean? or, from such a sinful original, what but evil can be the natural fruit? Not one is born but in this state; not one is found, who is not a transgressor from the womb. Note; (1.) An humbling sense of original sin is the foundation of all true humiliation. (2.) The vanity and shortness of our present life should quicken us to greater diligence in securing an eternity of substantial bliss.
2. Job expostulates with God, why, as a creature so weak, corrupt, and worthless, he should so strictly eye his ways, and so rigorously severe call him to his bar? He begs a moment's respite, that God would turn his frowning face away, and suffer him as a hireling to accomplish his day, with some little intermissions from ceaseless toil, and bring him at last to the sleep of death. Note; (1.) Life is a day of toil, but, blessed be God, "there remaineth a rest to his people (Hebrews 4:9.)" eternal in the heavens. (2.) We have a God who knows our frailty, and can be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; it is good in prayer to spread our case before him.
2nd, Having pathetically described the miseries of life, he passes on to the consideration of death, where his flesh might rest in hope, though not of prosperity on earth, yet of a joyful resurrection.
1. At death, man's hope in this world finally perishes. A tree cut down will sprout again; and, though the stock be dead, fibres from the root will put forth new suckers: the waters, exhaled from the sea, fall down again in showers; and winter's floods, though dried up by the scorching sun, at the returning season rise as before. But man's waste is irreparable; and when, at death, he gives up the ghost, as soon he must, he is gone for ever: no shoot shall spring, no flood of life return; where he lieth down he must abide, till the heavens be no more, never to return to life below: or perhaps intimating, that in another world only, when the heavens shall be wrapped together as a scroll, he might expect to rise again, chap. Job 19:26. Note; (1.) Though man's body dies, his soul perishes not with it, but lives in the world of spirits. (2.) Since there is no return hither to correct what hath been amiss, how great need have we to improve that present moment on which eternity depends!
2. As he had hope in his death, he longs for its arrival; O that thou wouldst hide me in the grave, from all the miseries and sorrows which he endured, and from the strife of tongues; that thou wouldst keep me secret, where no eye should see him, until thy wrath be past, the effects of which, he apprehended, would never remove till his body should return to the dust, and his soul wait a resurrection-day: That thou wouldst appoint me a set time, to discharge me from the labours of life, or to rescue me from the dust of death, and remember me! think upon my sorrows, to end them; or on my sleeping ashes, to raise them once more from the grave. Note; (1.) Till the body sleeps in death, we cannot be entirely hid from troubles; but there at least they will end. (2.) The dust of God's saints is precious to him; he doth not forget them; the time is fixed for their glorious restitution, and herein they can rejoice.
3. He resolves in patient hope to wait God's sacred pleasure. If a man die, as surely he must, shall he live again, to amend any thing that is past? no; therefore let me with patience bear my present burden. Or, shall he live again? yes; though his body lie down in the dust, he shall rise again: therefore all the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my change come. This expectation shalt reconcile me to my present afflictions: a change will come, a glorious change; the time is fixed; O come the welcome day! Then thou shalt call, and I will answer thee, ready for the arms of death; or from the dust, joyful to hear the trump that awakes the dead. Thou wilt have a desire to the work of thine hands; the curious fabric of my body, which thy hands have fashioned, thou wilt restore, no more to taste of death, or see corruption. Note; (1.) The hope of a glorious resurrection is the great support under every human misery. (2.) Death has changed its nature, when grace hath changed our hearts; it then becomes our privilege to die.
3rdly, Job returns to his sad complaints,
1. Of God's rigour. He had no hope of rest on this side the grave, while God seemed to mark with curious eye each step, to minute the least transgressions, and seal them up, as indictments ready to be produced in court against him. Note; (1.)
Hard thoughts of God are as bitter to ourselves, as dishonourable to him. (2.) It is the want of a due sense of the evil of sin, which leads us to complain.
2. Of man's wasting and irreparable condition. The mountains moulder; the rocks are removed by floods, or earthquakes; the stones, by continual dropping, are hollowed out; and floods sweep away the productions of the earth. These wastes none can repair; the mountains cannot grow again, nor the rocks return; the hollow of the stone is never filled up, nor the desolations of the flood repaired; and, or so, thou destroyest the hope of man, who, once removed by death, never returns to his place again: thou prevailest for ever against him, contention is vain, disease and death cannot be resisted; and he passeth, as a wind, from the face of the earth. Thou changest his countenance; the stroke of sickness covers the blooming face with livid paleness, and death makes it ghastly and frightful; and sendest him away into the grave. There, insensible of all that passes here below, his sons come to honour, and he knoweth it not; and they are brought low, but he perceiveth it not of them. But his flesh upon him shall have pain, in the dying hour, and his soul within him shall mourn at the bitterness of death. Note; (1.) This is a perishing world; we and it consume together; how vain then to place our confidence in any thing here below! (2.) Death makes strange alterations; proud beauty should look in that glass to humble its self-idolatry. (3.) It is to mere nature a bitter thing to die, and expiring groans are often full of anguish: to a sinner they are only the beginning of sorrows; but to a saint they are a farewel to pain and grief for ever.