NOTES for Job 5:1-27

Eliphaz is not simply speaking general words to Job; he is trying to explain to his friend what is happening to him. If Job is still righteous, then why is he suffering? Answering that question was not so simple. Everyone understood that a sinner may be punished by God for his sins; but how can one explain suffering that falls on someone who has not sinned? Of course, on the basis of the revelation he had received, Eliphaz had just concluded that there are no sinless people. But in that case, following the traditional logic, there should be no healthy people in the world either.

Meanwhile, it is obvious to everyone that this is not so. Then Eliphaz puts forward a new argument: he connects Job's suffering, like all suffering in general, with instruction received from God. Eliphaz claims that suffering is natural to human beings in general, that a person is even born into the world for suffering (vv. 6-7). Such is the order established by God, and it is foolish to rebel against it (vv. 1-5). Nothing can be changed, and there is no need to change anything, because suffering, if one relates to it rightly, benefits a person. The main thing is to entrust everything to God, who in any case will not abandon the righteous person, so that even evil will be turned to good for him (vv. 8-16).

Suffering is not merely punishment; it is precisely correction and instruction from God. It does not last forever. The day will come when all sufferings are left behind, and the righteous person will emerge from the trial God sent him stronger in every respect than before (vv. 17-27). Such reasoning, of course, has its own logic, understandable to every religious person. But it has one weak point: following it, one would have to consider God Himself the source of all human misfortunes, which He sends to some for punishment and to others for correction.

The author of the Book of Job, of course, explains Job's sufferings differently. He sees them as the result of what theologians call God's permission: something God does not do and does not want, but allows to be, yielding to the freedom of the creatures He has made, whether angels or human beings. The author of the Book of Job understands perfectly well that evil comes not from God, but from Satan, who opposes God, since he makes Satan responsible for all Job's sufferings. Yet for some reason God still allows Satan to act. The whole Book of Job became the answer to the question of why God needs this. But the answer turned out not to be as simple as it seemed to Eliphaz. And Job understands this perfectly well. He objects to his friend, and the conversation continues.

Eliphaz speaks about how a fool acts, and as a result of his actions suffers hardship. In doing so, Eliphaz accuses Job of having brought all his troubles on himself by his own foolishness. This attitude toward a person who has fallen into a difficult situation is not rare in our own time either, but in relation to Job, as to many other victims, such arrogance looks strange and tactless.

There is immeasurably more sense in Eliphaz's words that man is born to trouble, but sufferings are not meaningless if through them a person is able to strive upward. Yes, reality is such that the world is full of suffering, and Job's former prosperity was not the generally prevailing norm. And if Eliphaz's confidence that the disasters that came down on Job were justified has no real grounds, his advice to turn to God, who wounds, and His hands heal, must be recognized as reasonable.

Job, who reasons, "God gave, God has taken away," reflects about Him, but so far he does not address Him. But the Lord reveals Himself to the one who stands before Him, for whom God is not only He, but also You.

Eliphaz's advice to Job is simple and clear: trust God, and everything will be well. If He punishes, it is only for correction, for the good of the person himself. An old religious truth, long known to the world. In this case, however, it is confirmed by Eliphaz's own spiritual experience: he sensed the nearness of God, and that strengthened his religiosity. Eliphaz's own character also played no small role here: he is not Jacob, after all, to wrestle with God for a blessing. Such a person is forced to be content with religiosity alone in his relationship with God. And from his experience Eliphaz draws a general conclusion: arguing with God is useless.

He is always right because He is stronger. And not merely stronger: He is wiser, more far-seeing, and more authoritative than any human being. So it is simpler and safer to accept everything from Him without questioning anything. The thought is, of course, sound and generally correct. But what is one to do if questions remain, and the situation too obviously does not fit within the framework of religious correctness? The religious answer is: humble yourself. In general, that answer is right. Only, before whom and before what should one humble oneself? Humility is absolutely necessary for spiritual life.

But only when it is humility before God. Not before people, not before circumstances, not before the worn-out maxims of someone else's religiosity, but before God. And another thing: to humble oneself does not mean to retreat, to step aside. Eliphaz, who preaches humility, has not in fact humbled himself before God. Humility is possible only when there are no questions for God. Either because the answer is clear, or because there can be no answer at the moment and the one asking accepts that as a given. But when questions are settled by the principle "let us hush this up for clarity," that is no longer humility, but flight.

Of course, Eliphaz, like any person, had every right to step aside if he was afraid. Neither God nor people would have condemned him. But then he should have spoken of his unreadiness, not of humility. A person often wants to justify in his own eyes what he cannot get rid of. A problem one does not want to work on is often declared not a problem, but an achievement. Only the person who has reached the boundary where the last questions are resolved cannot be deceived in this way: at that boundary everything is seen too clearly.