Job 3:1–9

He could not stand the presence of his friends. He had borne many sorrows and bitter suffering. But these friends came and looked at his misery without a word. It was too much for Job. Did they suspect him? He could not bear doubts about his walk with God, least of all from them. Were they not friends? If they loved him, why that silence — that ominous silence for seven days and seven nights?

He had quietly submitted to the loss of children, property, and health. Satan had been sent away, and his wife's advice refused. But the presence of his friends made Job break down completely.

Note that he did not curse God. He called down a curse on the day of his birth, grieving that he had not died when his mother gave him birth. He thought that if he had never seen the light, he would have "been at rest," and not in this terrible suffering.

Job still did not accuse God of any wrong, but he did curse the day of his birth. This was not blaming God directly. Yet, little as he saw it, he was blaming God indirectly, for it was God who gave him life… Job's grief was so deep that he never stopped to see that what he asked for was impossible. How could the day of his birth perish? That day was long gone. At the time it had been a day of light, because a boy had been born into the world… But his anguish moved him, not faith.

The effect of God's discipline is to expose the secret workings and feelings of self, which otherwise would not have been detected or known — and what is not known is never given up. Job now felt himself a wretched man, with misery all around him. He had outlived every enjoyment on earth, and he cursed his day. What had he lived for, and what should he live for? He had no idea of the place he held before God, or of how God was preparing him, through terrible suffering, to prove to Satan that His own estimate of Job was right.

Job was a true saint of God; but he needed to learn himself, as we all do. He needed the roots of his moral being laid bare before his own eyes, so that he might truly abhor himself and repent in dust and ashes. He also needed a truer and deeper sense of what God was, so that he might trust Him and justify Him in every circumstance.

Job was as much an example in trouble as he had been in prosperity. The root of sin was still not reached… At last God allows his friends to come and comfort him. How much hardship we can bear on our own! But as soon as our friends see it, our pride rises up. Human pity often stirs our impatience. And Job, so famous for his patience, ends by cursing the day of his birth!

The Spirit does tell us of his "patience" (James 5:11). But has He not also recorded a good deal of impatience, for our teaching? Let us be gentle here. Who among us would have stood the strain of suffering better than Job? How amazed we have been at times to see how much stubbornness and unbelief suffering and trial have uncovered in us!

This is very remarkable. It does not appear that the friends had spoken a single sentence. They sat in total silence, with torn garments and covered with dust, gazing on a grief too deep for them to reach. It was Job himself who first broke the silence. The whole of the third chapter pours out the most bitter grief — sad evidence of a spirit that was not subdued.

If Satan is defeated (the grace of God having kept Job's heart from murmuring) God still has His own work to do. What the storm Satan raised against Job failed to do is brought about by the sympathy of his friends. Poor heart of man! Job's uprightness and even his patience had been shown, and Satan had nothing more to say. But God alone can search out what the heart really is before Him.

A man will bear grief and bow under it when he is alone. But then people come from whom he expects sympathy, and instead they show distrust. Job was quick to show that he could not stand that.

He opened his mouth and cursed his day. He did not curse God, note that. He called down a curse upon the day he was born, regretting that he had not died when his mother gave him birth. He thought that if he had never seen the light, he would have "been at rest," and not in this terrible suffering.

Job did not even now charge God foolishly, but he did curse the day of his birth. He was not blaming God directly. Yet, however little he realised it, he was blaming God indirectly, for it was God who gave him life… How could the day perish in which Job was born? How could history reverse itself? Later Job would thank God he had been born, and that thankfulness will last for eternity. But when trouble comes like the trouble Job had to bear, we do not tend to think calmly… He was moved by his anguish, not by faith.

As long as his sufferings were outward, or physical, Job was calm. But when he let doubts about God's goodness in, he collapsed.

Job did not know what was in his heart until he was put to the test. When God lets the light in, it will not do for the character; it is gone. These tests did not only bring Job into the light. They also brought out what was inside his heart… Trials come, and then self breaks out, because it was inside… Suppose it were so with any of us — every outward blessing taken away and Satan hedging up our way. What would we see in our own hearts, and in a hundred others? Things would simply come out, because they were within.

Job was a true saint of God; but he needed to learn himself, as we all do. He needed to see the roots of his own moral being laid bare, so that he might abhor himself and repent in dust and ashes. He also needed a truer and deeper sense of what God was. Then he could trust Him and justify Him in every circumstance.

But nothing had yet reached the depths of Job's heart, and God's purpose was to reach them, whatever Satan's thoughts may have been. Job did not know himself. Up to this time, for all his godliness, he had never been in the presence of God... Satan is defeated, because the grace of God kept Job's heart from complaining. But God still has His own work to do. What the storm Satan raised against Job failed to do, the sympathy of his friends does.

If the trial had stopped here, the book would have lost its lesson. We would have missed the ways and the end of the Lord.

Job mourns and curses his day — not God, nothing of that kind. Yet he speaks in a way he should not, showing his horror of the day that announced his birth. The whole scene of his birth stood before him in gloom. Everything to do with his coming into the world looked horrible to him... He asks why he was ever born, when he was destined for such misery.

Even now Job did not accuse God of wrong, but he did curse the day of his birth. He was not blaming God openly. Yet, little as he saw it, he was blaming God all the same, because it was God who gave him life... How could the day perish on which Job was born (v.3)? How could history run backwards? That day had passed long before, and at the time it was a day of light, because a boy had been born into the world... Later Job would thank God that he had been born, and that thankfulness will last forever... But anguish moved him, not faith.

To poor Job his birthday seemed a moment to mourn and curse. In his days of plenty he had feared that some trouble might come. Now it had come on him with a force beyond anything known. His words of agony in Job 3 still move us to sympathy, some four thousand years after he spoke them.

Only of one man has it ever been said — by our Lord — "It would have been better for that man if he had not been born" (Matthew 26:24). Judas had turned away from the faith. Satan entered his heart, and he sold his Master for thirty pieces of silver... For a child of God to wish he had never been born shows a total, though only temporary, eclipse of faith.

But the great point is his mourning over this terrible lot of his: that he was ever allowed to come into the world to bear such awful suffering. Where do you find that in Christ? "I was sent for this purpose." The Lord accepts it. He felt it, and felt it deeply. He was troubled in spirit. He felt it, and yet He accepted it. This was why He had come. Job was different. He could not understand why a holy God should allow such suffering, though his own sufferings were nothing beside those of Christ.

Job had begun to take pleasure in his own goodness and to trust his own righteousness. So, to destroy Job's confidence in himself, God allows Satan's malice, within set limits, to sift him with terrible trials. The result was twofold. Job triumphed over all the power of the enemy. He also learned, through the trials, to judge the secret and unsuspected evil of his own heart.

It may have been the pride of his heart, which could not bear to be found in such a state by people who had known his greatness. It may have been their sympathy, which weakened that pride and left him feeling his misery in full. Either way, it was the presence and the words of his friends that brought out all that was in his heart. The depths of Job's heart had not yet been reached, and reaching them was God's purpose. He acts in grace in cases like this, for the good of the soul He loves.

That day — let it be darkness; Let not God from above ask after it; And let not light shine upon it.

How could the day perish in which Job was born? (v.3). How could history reverse itself? That day had passed long before, and at the time it was a day of light that a man-child had been born into the world. Could Job's words change that light to darkness? He mentions God once in this section, wanting God to ignore that day (v.4). Later Job would thank God he had been born, and that thankfulness will last for eternity. But when trouble comes like Job's, we do not tend to think calmly and carefully. Wishful thinking will never achieve anything... he was moved by his anguish, not by faith.

Notice this. Job gives way to his feelings in this passionate outburst, yet he did not renounce God. There is not a word of rebellion against Him. All through his reply to his friends' arguments he does not lose sight of God. Again and again he expresses confidence in the unseen One.

Of only one man has it ever been said, by our Lord, that it would have been better for him if he had not been born: Judas, who sold his Master for thirty pieces of silver, betrayed Him with a kiss, and then went and hanged himself. For a child of God to wish he had never been born shows a complete, if only temporary, eclipse of faith.

The great point is what he mourns: that he was ever allowed to come into the world to bear such awful suffering. Where do you find that in Christ? "For I was sent for this purpose." The Lord accepts it; He felt it, felt it deeply; He was troubled in spirit. He felt it, but He also accepted it. For this cause He had come. Not so Job. His sufferings were nothing compared to those of Christ. Even so, he could not understand why a holy God should allow such suffering. It was inexplicable to Job.

When you wake up to the full sense of your misery, the first thought — and the most bitter one — is to curse your day. It is a terrible feeling, and where God is not known it is the thought that leads to suicide. But where God is known, as with Job, it is the start of healthy action. Not because of the discontent and wretchedness it uncovers, but because you now know and feel what death is: being cut off from everything... Discipline may have the effect of making us feel that death is better than life, but it is working out God's purpose.

That day! let it be darkness; let not God from above ask after it; and let not light shine upon it. Let darkness and death's shadow reclaim it; let clouds settle over it; let the darkenings of the day terrify it. That night! let thick darkness seize it.

In this first part Job curses the day of his birth, wishes that it could be blotted out of the calendar, because it allowed his birth. He desires that that day and night never come into remembrance — so that the very recurrence of the day that was a reminder of his existence might cease.

Job's grief was so deep that he did not even consider that what he was saying was an impossibility. How could the day perish in which Job was born? How could history reverse itself? That day had passed long before and at the time was a day of light that a man-child had been born into the world. Could Job's words change that light to darkness? He mentions God once in this section, desiring that God would ignore that day. Later Job would thank God he had been born, and that thankfulness will endure for eternity… But he was moved by his anguish, not by faith.

Of only one man has it ever been said — by our Lord "It would have been better for that man if he had not been born" (Matthew 26:24). Judas was an apostate. He was the "son of destruction," and Satan entered into his heart… For a child of God to wish he had never been born shows a complete, though only temporary, eclipse of faith.

A terrible blow can shut a man off from everything around him so completely that he does not even try to complain or to speak… But the moment he wakes up to where he stands in relation to everything here, self must occupy him — unless he is done with himself. God sends this discipline to set aside self, and to bring the heart into its true relation with God, apart from self. So the discipline exposes the secret workings and feelings of self. Otherwise they would never be detected or known — and if not known, never renounced.

"You have heard of the patience of Job?" Yet he opened his mouth to curse his day. He complained that the Preserver of man had set him up as a target, so that he was a burden to himself. In Christ nothing was brought out but what was perfect.

In this first part Job curses the day of his birth. He wishes it could be wiped off the calendar, because it allowed his birth. He wants that day and night never to come into remembrance. Then the day would stop returning to remind him that he exists.

The silence is broken by Job. Sadly, his lips do not utter praises now — he cursed the day of his birth. It was a painful trial for Job to look into the faces of these devout friends. They stood there in full health and strength. He was more devout than they were, yet God had stricken him and struck him down.

Job did not even now charge God foolishly, but he did curse the day of his birth. This did not blame God directly. Yet it blamed Him indirectly, however little Job realised it, for it was God who gave him life… Job's grief was so deep that he did not even consider that what he was saying was impossible. How could history reverse itself?… Later Job would thank God that he had been born. That thankfulness will last for eternity. But he was moved by his anguish, not by faith.

Job then did not curse God. No, he did not fall into what the devil thought he would do, but he cursed his own day, cursed his own lot. I do not say that this was right; I do not say so, far from it. But that was how it came out, that Job then opened his mouth. It came after seven days of silence. For seven days his dearest friends sat stunned at the size of his sufferings! Well, we must not be surprised that he broke out.

Trials come. Job remains as exemplary in adversity as he had been in prosperity… But at last God permits his friends to visit him and offer comfort. Then Job, so noted for his patience, curses the day of his birth. What afflictions we can endure in secret! But as soon as our friends become witnesses of them, our pride is stirred. Man's compassion excites impatience.

The great point is his mourning over this terrible lot. He grieves that he was ever allowed to come into the world to bear such awful suffering. Where do you find that in Christ? "For this cause was I sent." The Lord accepts it; He felt it, deeply felt it; was troubled in spirit. He felt it, but He also accepted it. For this cause He had come. But not so Job. His sufferings could not compare with those of Christ. Still, he could not understand why a holy God should allow such suffering. It was inexplicable to Job.

Weighed in the light of the New Testament, all these expressions are found wanting. Death is not a friend whose visit is to be desired, but an enemy. In the light of the gospel, the hope of God's people in affliction and sorrow is not relief by death. It is the coming of the Lord… Job's language is that of a man in despair. He seems to have quite forgotten the bright and blessed days of the past, and he fears a hopeless future.

Job then mourns and curses his day — not God, nothing of that kind. Yet he still speaks out his horror of the day his birth was announced, and that is unfitting. His whole birth-scene was before him, wrapped in gloom. Everything connected with his coming into the world was horrible in his eyes.

Almost everywhere, a birthday is an occasion of remembrance and rejoicing. To poor Job it seemed a moment to be deplored and cursed. In his days of prosperity he had feared that some trouble might come. Now it had come upon him with unequalled force. His agonized words in Job 3 surely move our sympathy. We read them some four thousand years after he spoke them.

Job did not even now charge God foolishly, but he did curse the day of his birth. This was not directly blaming God, but however little he realised it, he was indirectly blaming God, for it was God who gave him life.

Job's grief was so deep that he did not even consider that what he was saying was an impossibility. How could the day perish in which Job was born? How could history reverse itself? That day had passed long before. … Later Job would thank God he had been born, and that thankfulness will endure for eternity. But he was moved by his anguish, not by faith.

One of two things upset the mind of Job, or perhaps the two together. It may have been the sympathy of his friends — for alone, and from God in His presence, we can bear what we cannot bear once we have the chance to complain in front of man. Or it may have been pride, which is not roused while we are alone but is wounded when others witness our misery. And so he curses the day of his birth. The depths of his heart are displayed. It was this that he needed.

The great point is the mourning over this terrible lot of his, that he was ever allowed to come into the world to bear such awful suffering. Where do you find that in Christ? "For this cause was I sent." The Lord accepts it; He felt, deeply felt; was troubled in spirit. He felt it, but He also accepted it. For this cause He had come. But not so Job. He could not understand why a holy God should allow such suffering, though his own sufferings were nothing compared with those of Christ.

Indeed there had never been a child of Adam or a believer so visited as Job; and as yet he did not know the end, that the Lord is full of pity, and of tender mercy. He was in the depth of his trial, and the silence of his friends made it worse. Worse still was coming: their suspicion, spoken more and more openly, like drawn swords.

What a contrast is the joy of the believer as he dwells on his spiritual birthday. … So in the many persecutions and afflictions which happened to Paul for the gospel's sake, we hear not the faintest approach to these laments of Job. He and Silas were beaten, thrown into prison, their feet fast in the stocks. Their thoughts were not of cursing the day of their birth; they brought songs in the night.

In Isaiah 27:1 it also stands for Satan: "Leviathan the fleeing serpent, Leviathan the twisting serpent," whom God will punish… In Job 3:8 it should be translated "leviathan" instead of "their mourning." This confirms the general meaning of some monster.

One translation of verse 8 reads, "Let those who curse the day curse it, who are skilled in stirring up leviathan." It points to the pagan myth that a dragon swallowed the sun and moon and so stopped the day. If this is correct, it shows how far Job had drifted in his thoughts, to turn to pagan superstitions.

He opened his mouth and cursed his day. He did not curse God, note it well. He called down a curse upon the day he was born, grieving that he had not died when his mother gave him birth.

Job did not even now charge God foolishly, but he did curse the day of his birth. This was not blaming God directly. But however little he realised it, he was blaming God indirectly, because it was God who gave him life… How could the day of Job's birth perish? How could history reverse itself? That day had passed long before… But anguish moved him, not faith.

The first thought after waking to a full sense of one's misery, and the most bitter one, is to curse one's day. That is a terrible impression, and where God is not known it leads to suicide. But when God is known, as in Job's case, it is the beginning of healthy action. Not because of the discontent and misery it uncovers, but because he knows and feels the sense of death, of being utterly wiped out from everything… He does not know that God seeks to make him a witness of dependence on Himself against Satan.

God now shows Job, under the figure of leviathan, that Satan's power is too great for him. What a terrible being he is, this king over all the proud… But what could be God's object in describing the power of the enemy? Surely it was to lead Job into complete dependence on Himself. "I know," says Job, "that You can do all things."

The great point is his mourning over this terrible lot of his — that he was ever allowed to come into the world to bear such awful suffering. Where do you find that in Christ? "I was sent for this purpose." The Lord accepts it. He felt it, and felt it deeply; He was troubled in spirit. He felt it, but He also accepted it.

As we go through this book, we must not miss the exquisite beauty of the expressions, both of Job and of all who speak. For if the Spirit of God has seen fit to inspire a writing, He would have us note its form as well as its contents. So in verse 9 the margin of our version reads, "Neither let it see the eyelids of the morning." Another rendering has, "Let it not refresh itself with the eyelids of the dawn" — poetry indeed of exquisite beauty.

In this first part Job curses the day of his birth, wishes that it could be blotted out of the calendar, because it allowed his birth. He desires that that day and night never come into remembrance — so that the very recurrence of the day that was a reminder of his existence might cease.

This was not directly blaming God. But however little he realised it, he was blaming God indirectly, because it was God who gave him life… He was moved by his anguish, not by faith.

He felt himself as if in the hands of arbitrary power, suffering for what he had not done. He sees no way of escape, and so he wishes for death… As long as his sufferings were outward, or physical, Job was calm. But when he let doubts of God's goodness in, he collapsed.

But notice this. Though Job gives way to his feelings in this passionate outburst, he did not renounce God. There is not a word of rebellion against Him. All through his answers to the arguments of his friends he does not lose sight of God. Again and again he expresses confidence in the unseen One, as in that matchless saying, "Though He slay me, I will hope in Him" (13:15).

We can say with confidence: no one who had learned even a little to say "Your will be done" could ever curse his day, or use the language of Job 3… Job was a true saint of God. But he needed to learn himself, as we all do. He needed to see the roots of his own moral being laid bare, so that he might truly abhor himself and repent in dust and ashes.

Let us contrast all these godly men with the matchless Sufferer. "Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I say? 'Father, save me from this hour'? But for this purpose I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name." Ah, He never failed. The intensity of His sufferings only gave the occasion for the display of His sinless perfection.

Paul and Silas were beaten and thrown into prison, with their feet fast in the stocks. Their thoughts were not of cursing the day of their birth. They brought songs in the night.