Job 27:1. Parable, equivalent to a wise, learned and conclusive speech.
Job 27:2. God hath taken away my judgment. The old readings here are preferable. The LXX, God judgeth me thus, or so heavily. Chaldaic, He taketh away the rule of my judgment; that is, he does not judge me according to the manner of men: he makes my case special, and out of the common rule.
Job 27:3. The Spirit of God is in my nostrils. Poole thinks that Job alludes here to Genesis 2:7. If so, Moses must either have had writings or very explicit traditions for his Genesis, which were known to Abraham and to Job. Be that as it might, he was conscious that the Spirit of God animated his heart, and emboldened him in the effusions of his mind.
Job 27:15. His widows shall not weep. The LXX, No man shall have compassion on their widows: iniquity being visited on posterity.
Job 27:21. The east wind. The LXX, καυσων, is a burning wind, the wind of the Lord. Hosea 13:15. It withers all vegetation. Ezekiel 17:10; Ezekiel 19:12. Bruce, our accredited traveller, calls it the simoon, or hot wind. In the deserts of Numidia his guide called out, the simoon is coming; the camels, by instinct, thrust their noses into the sand, the people did the same, till the hot sulphurous breeze had passed: yet it left a sensation on Bruce's lungs for some months. See on Psalms 48:7.
REFLECTIONS.
This second part of Job's speech devolves on his innocence of all imputed crimes; and therefore he would hold fast his integrity. And what can support a man more than an unshaken confidence in God, when assailed with trouble and afflictions?
But he asks by contrast, What is the hope of the hypocrite? His life developes his heart. If his religion were distinguished by the love of God and man, it would appear; whereas avarice is his character; he heaps up gold as the dust, he builds a stately mansion, and multiplies his children. And what are the issues of his patriarchal grandour. His wealth invites war, his children are slain with the sword, his house is overthrown as the mansion of a moth. In his trouble, the Almighty shuts out his prayer, and laughs at his calamities. It is heaven, not earth, that is the best and surest defence of man.
On the part of the world, which flattered his passions, he has no comfort. The poor divide his raiment, and inherit his lands. He sinks unpitied in despair; and men clap their hands at his fall. Learn then, oh my soul, how weak and humble soever thy piety may be, see that it be sincere. Let it be discovered in excellence of temper, in liberality of sentiment, and in meekness of spirit. Then in the day of trouble, the Lord in due time will lift up thy head.