What is man, that thou makest much of him? and that thou settest thy heart upon him?
Job is in deep pain, and out of that pain comes a question about the worth of man. The words sound like awe, but Job wants the opposite — he is asking God to look away and leave him alone.
One writer reads the whole outburst as a protest against God's attention.
Job says this in a complaining, badly-behaved spirit: Why does the LORD take such notice of me, and make such a trouble about me? Why does He not depart from me, or let me alone until I swallow down my spittle? Why should the LORD think so much of me, and not cut me off?
Job feels that God's government is too heavy for a creature built like him.
Here it is man under the discipline of God; under the moral government of God. "Oh," he says, "what is man, to be under such a tremendous government as this? If I were a sea I would not feel it. If I were a big whale, I might endure more than I can now. But what is man?" — poor, sensitive man, full of his nerves and his feelings, his mind embittered by his outward trial. "Oh!" he said, "end it! end it!"
The same question appears twice more in the Bible. Each time it carries a different sense.
Scripture asks three times, "What is man?" Job asks it (chapter 7), the remnant asks it in Psalm 144, and the Spirit of Christ asks it in Psalm 8. Job asks it because of God's care over such an insignificant thing as he was. He exclaims, "What is man?" He says, in effect, "Why should You think of me, consider me, a poor worm?" That is what man is. Then the remnant, smarting at the hands of their enemies, ask, "What is man?" ... But in Psalm 8 it is the Spirit of Christ who asks, "What is man?" And the answer is JESUS, the Man according to the whole counsel of God.
Why did God keep pressing when Job had held firm? One writer points to something in Job that the enemy's attack never touched.
If things had stopped there, the experience would probably have harmed Job. He might have said with self-satisfaction that he had stood true to God in good times and in suffering. Chapter 29 makes it plain that a weed of self-satisfaction was already growing in him. He himself probably did not see it, but it was plain enough to the holy eye of God. So God went on with the work at the point where the enemy had to give it up.
God really was making much of one man and setting His heart on him.
The interest of God in the individual soul, though so hard for Job to explain at that moment, is most precious. What greater proof could we have of its reality than the book we are speaking about? Think of it: one of the largest books of the Bible is taken up entirely with the story of God's dealings with one soul — and a man who was not even of Abraham's line! Such was God's interest in His servant that He did not "look away" from him, nor "let him alone," despite his prayer. He went forward with His gracious work until it was finished, and the full blessing of it had been reaped.
What Job begged God to stop becomes precious to a person who has seen God.
Job, with all his outward perfection, had not yet seen God as he was to see Him... How blessed, then, when we have seen Him indeed, to know that every step we take in the way is a matter of concern to Him! — that there is not an hour of the day but He has some thought as to how we should spend it!
Job asks what man is in chapter 7. He does not find out until much later. The answer comes when he sees God, not when he argues.
Not until chapter 40 does Job discover he is vile, and stop speaking. It is then he begins to enter into what man is... In good times his goodness gave him a basis for self-satisfaction. Now in trouble — sent to remove this — he complains! Such is man under instruction. Not until he says, "My eye sees You," does he say, "Therefore I despise myself."
- Complaint — pain forces the question out of Job. God's constant watching feels unbearable, and he begs God to leave him alone.
- Discipline — that attention was God teaching one man. He took up the work where the enemy left off, to dig out a self-satisfaction Job could not see in himself.
- Interest — God truly sets His heart on one man. A whole book of the Bible records His dealings with one soul outside Abraham's line.
- Refusal — God did not look away when Job asked Him to. He went on with the work until the full blessing had been reaped.
- Answer — the reply comes elsewhere. In Psalm 8 the same question finds its answer in Christ. Job finds his answer only when he sees God and stops defending himself.
And that thou visitest him every morning, triest him every moment?
Job is answering his friends, and here he hits his lowest point. Broken in body and hope, he treats God's constant attention as a grievance and begs God to leave him alone. The words echo Psalm 8; the mood is the opposite.
Listen to the spirit behind the words. Job is not admiring God's care here; he is protesting it.
In Job 7 it is: "What is man, that You should magnify him? and that You should set Your heart on him?" He says this in a complaining, bad spirit: Why does the LORD take such notice of me, and make such a trouble about me? Why does He not depart from me, or let me alone till I swallow my spittle? Why should the LORD think so much of me, and not cut me off?
Job feels the morning visit and the endless testing as pressure that never lifts. He goes on to ask why God has made him a target.
What was mortal man, that God should make so much of him and test him without a break? Suppose he had sinned — why set him up as a target until he passed away in sorrow?
The enemy struck Job, then gave up and left. But the trial did not stop there, and the reason lay inside Job.
God let the malicious adversary strip him of his possessions, family, and even his health. The adversary then had to leave the case, completely baffled. Job kept his integrity through all his suffering. But if things had stopped there, the experience would probably have harmed Job. He might have grown self-satisfied, saying that he had stood true to God in good times and bad. Chapter twenty-nine makes it plain that a weed of self-satisfaction was already growing inside him. He probably did not know it was there, but God's holy eye saw it clearly. God, therefore, took up the work at the point where the enemy had to abandon it. His aim was to rid His servant of that harmful weed, and so do him good in the end.
Job asked God to look away. The book itself is the evidence that God did not.
The interest of God in the individual soul, though so puzzling to Job at that moment, is most precious. What greater proof of it could we have than this book? Think of one of the largest books of the Bible given entirely to God's dealings with one soul — a man who was not even a descendant of Abraham! God cared so much for His servant that He would not "look away" from him or "let him alone," despite his prayer. He carried His gracious work forward until He had finished it, and Job had reaped its full blessing.
Nothing in the verse is untrue. God does visit and He does test. The question is whether we feel that as a weight or as love.
His interest is the first thing to consider: "He never withdraws His eyes from the righteous." Yet in his distress even a Job could feel this as a painful trial rather than a gain… Job, for all his outward perfection, had not yet seen God as he was to see Him… How blessed it is, once we have truly seen Him, to know that every step we take matters to Him! For every hour of the day He has a thought about how we should spend it.
Job met his trial in one way. Hebrews sets out three.
If the reader will turn for a moment to Hebrews 12:3-12, he will find much precious instruction on the subject of God's dealings with His people… it presents three distinct ways in which we may meet the chastening of our Father's hand. We may "despise" it, as though His hand and His voice were not in it; we may "faint" under it, as though it were unbearable, and not the precious fruit of His love; or, lastly, we may be "exercised by it," and so reap, in due time, "the peaceable fruits of righteousness."
The same question comes up again in the Psalms. There it gets a very different answer.
Psalm 8 and Psalm 144 stand in beautiful contrast to Job's complaining. There a similar question brings out wholly different answers, in and through the Lord Jesus. Yet the Lord entered the glory of Son of Man, set over all things, through infinitely deeper suffering… Job gives way to murmurs and complaints that God should take such notice of man in His daily government. Not so the Lord. He was rejected by all and tasted death for everything, and now we see Him exalted above the heavens.
- Attention. God's eye never turns away. The morning visit and the constant testing are real; only Job's reading of them is wrong.
- Purpose. The testing went on after the enemy gave up. God was digging out a self-satisfaction Job could not see in himself.
- Refusal. Job begged God to look away. God kept working until Job had reaped the full blessing.
- Response. Hebrews names three ways to meet a Father's chastening. We can despise it, faint under it, or be exercised by it and reap righteousness.
- Answer. Job asked his question in complaint. The Lord Jesus answers it. He passed through deeper suffering and is now exalted above the heavens.
How long wilt thou not look away from me, nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle?
Job is speaking straight to God, and he asks for the smallest mercy imaginable — not healing, not answers, just enough time to swallow. Behind that request is a belief: God's attention has become the pressure crushing him, and Job wants it turned away.
Job is not asking for much, and that is what makes the line so heavy:
He asks his question, but in how different a way from the Psalmist: what is poor, puny man, that You should afflict him like this? He is left with hardly a moment to draw a quiet breath — time "to swallow my spit." It is a sad case when a man can find no relief even in God.
Another writer puts the phrase in plain words, then shows what Job still had to learn:
"How long will You not look away from me, nor leave me alone till I swallow my spit?" — that is, give me a moment to breathe… Job was fully aware that God had His eye on him all the time — fully aware of that. Still, he was not in God's presence in the way he later entered it. That came when he knew himself, and knew God better, which is what he learned through all this.
Job describes a watcher he cannot escape. One writer lists what Job charges God with, then names the relationship Job has forgotten:
God is his enemy, watching him as if he were the tossing sea, ready to break past its limits, or some sea monster that must be caught and destroyed. Day and night His hand was heavy upon him… Poor sufferer! And he was attributing it to his best Friend!
Job is not the only one who asks what man is, that God should take such notice of him. The same question comes up in two psalms, and there the answer is very different:
Psalm 8 and Psalm 144 stand in beautiful contrast to Job's complaining. There a similar question is asked, and in and by the Lord Jesus it brings out wholly different answers. Yet the Lord passed into the glory of the Son of man, set over all things, and He passed there through suffering infinitely deeper… Job gives way to murmurs and complaints that God should take such notice of man in His daily rule. Not so the Lord. He was rejected by all, He tasted death for everything, and now we see Him exalted above the heavens.
Job's speech is a reply to his friend Eliphaz, but he turns it on God. He assumes the attention is pointless and the testing endless, and one writer answers both halves of that:
Though answering Eliphaz, Job now speaks to God directly, and in the same complaining way. Was Job so important that God should spend such time dealing so harshly with him, testing him every moment? (vv.17-18). The real answer to this is, "Yes." God considers every believer important enough to spend time putting him through serious trials of faith. "How long?" (v.19). It seemed too long to Job. But God knows just how long is needed in every case to reach His own ends.
What Job begs God to withdraw is the very thing a believer later learns to love. The unbroken gaze is not spying; it is interest:
His interest is the first thing to consider: "He does not withdraw His eyes from the righteous." Even a Job, in his time of distress, might find this a painful trial instead of a gain… But Job, for all his outward perfection, had not yet seen God as he would come to see Him. Psalm 139 will in time reveal the whole process by which we are won to delight in His constant attention to us. How blessed it is, once we have truly seen Him, to know that every step we take matters to Him! For every hour of the day He has some thought of how we should spend it!
God did not grant this prayer, and both Job and everyone who has read his story gained by the refusal:
Poor Job! How much he would have missed, how much the whole family of faith would have missed, if God had taken him at his word!
- Pressure. Job asks only for a pause long enough to swallow — the plea of a man who can find no relief even in God.
- Misread. He speaks as if God were an enemy hunting him, when he is in fact accusing his best Friend.
- Purpose. God does think every believer worth this much attention. The testing is interest, not spite.
- Timing. "How long?" felt endless to Job. But God knows just how long the trial must last to reach His own ends.
- Gain. The eye Job begged God to turn away is the eye that never leaves the righteous. God did not answer that prayer, and that is how Job — and we — came to know Him better.
Have I sinned, what do I unto thee, thou Observer of men? Why hast thou set me as an object of assault for thee, so that I am become a burden to myself?
Disease has worn Job down, and his friends have turned into accusers. He stops arguing with them and speaks straight to God about his sin. He admits it, complains, and asks a question he cannot answer. If he has sinned, why does God aim at him instead of pardoning him?
Commentators read the title Job gives God in two ways. They take it as watcher, not preserver. One writer explains that choice, and what Job knew about being seen.
In verse 20, Job goes even further. He realized God would not let him alone and he confesses to sin. The New Translation renders the opening of that verse, "Have I sinned, what do I to You, You Observer of men?" We understand that "Observer," and not "Preserver," is the correct translation. He knew he was under God's eye, who could perceive error where he was hardly aware of it. And why did God not grant pardon and remove the weight of his load?
The same watching that Job resents is a comfort elsewhere in Scripture. One commentator, writing about God as the preserver of men, points back to this verse.
The apostle is speaking of the living God Himself — of God in His character as preserver of men, just as Job speaks here (Job 7:20). We are looking at God's care and rule over the world, where nothing escapes His notice. So He makes His sun rise on evil and good, and sends rain on just and unjust. How much more valued are His own than many sparrows, even the hairs of their heads being all numbered!
Job does mention his sin, but only in passing. One commentator weighs what that admission is worth.
At last Job will speak of his sin, though most briefly. "I have sinned" — but it is not the true acknowledgment of penitence, rather a hypothetical statement. Granted that I have sinned, what is that to You, O watcher of men? Why do You seek me as a mark for Your weapons instead of pardoning and restoring me to my former prosperity? … As his soul twists in anguish, Job does not hesitate to accuse God. If he has sinned, why does God punish instead of showing mercy? Such challenges cannot be allowed to pass.
Job asks what harm his sin could do to God. In asking it, he comes close to charging God with cruelty.
Supposing it true that he had sinned, yet what harm had this done to God, whom he calls the Observer of men (v.20)? Was God watching him with a cold, spiteful attitude? Was He making Job a target for His temper, so that Job became a burden to himself? … Of course Job's words are ill-considered, the expressions of a tortured mind. Yet it is as well that what is in the heart comes out.
(Some older translations read "a burden to myself," where the ESV has "a burden to you.")
One commentator traces the trouble to something Job had never done — look at himself in God's presence.
But, with all this, Job had never sounded the depths of his own heart. He did not know himself. He had never really grasped the truth of his own utter ruin and total depravity. … You must grasp this point, or you will not understand the book of Job. Job was called to pass through deep and painful trials. We will not see what they were for unless we face this solemn fact: his conscience had never really been in God's presence. He had never seen himself in the light.
Job's question does get an answer. It comes later, when Job sees the One who was watching him.
The lesson was now learned. Job had looked into the mirror and had seen himself as he had never done; not only so, but he had also seen the Lord. This was enough. It produced repentance. But there is an immense difference between saying "I abhor myself" and "I am clean without transgression."
- Watched. Job calls God the Observer, or watcher, of men — not the Preserver. He knew God's eye was on him, seeing faults he barely noticed in himself.
- Watched in care. The same watching is a comfort elsewhere. Nothing escapes God's care and notice, down to the sparrows and the hairs of our heads.
- Watched, and resenting it. Job treats that watching as hostile. He asks what harm his sin could do to God, and sees himself as a target instead of a man pardoned.
- Watched, but not yet known. "I have sinned" here sounds more like a supposition than repentance. Job's conscience had never yet stood in God's presence.
- Watched until seen. In the end Job sees the Lord, and then he sees himself. Self-defence turns into repentance. That is the answer to this verse.
And why dost not thou forgive my transgression and take away mine iniquity? for now shall I lie down in the dust, and thou shalt seek me early, and I shall not be.
Job ends his long reply with a personal plea about sin: why is his guilt not lifted off him while there is still time? The words sound like faith, but Job still had much to learn about himself and about God.
The verb behind "pardon" carries the picture of lifting a load off a person. A dictionary of Bible words traces it this way:
nasa, "to lift up," forgive. Exodus 23:21; 1 Samuel 15:25; Job 7:21; Micah 7:18.
Job feels that weight, and knows only God can lift it:
He knew he was under God's eye, who could perceive error where he was hardly aware of it. And why did God not grant pardon and remove the weight of his load?
Job does say "I have sinned," but the shape of the sentence matters. It is offered as a supposition, not as a broken admission:
At last Job will speak of his sin, though most briefly. "I have sinned" — but this is not the true acknowledgment of penitence. Instead, it is a hypothetical statement. Granted that I have sinned, what is that to You, O watcher of men? Why do You seek me as a mark for Your weapons instead of pardoning me and restoring me to my former prosperity? … In the writhing of his soul-anguish, Job does not hesitate to accuse God. If he has sinned, why does God punish instead of showing mercy? Truly such challenges cannot be allowed to pass.
The admission stops short of what God was working toward:
So from the start Job admitted some sense of guilt. But a life of devotion and outward correctness propped him up, and he did not yet see how great that guilt was. God was beginning the process which would lead him to see how deep and black it was.
The name Job uses for God in the line before shapes this whole appeal:
"I have sinned" — or "If I have sinned," which I take to be the real sense of the passage. "What shall I do to You, O You" — not exactly "Preserver" but "Observer"? It is worth noting such errors where they stand out so plainly — "O You Observer!" He was fully aware that God had His eye on him all the time. Still, he was not in God's presence in the way he entered it later. Then he knew himself, and knew God better, as he learned through this.
Job is not turning away from God. He asks Him to deal with a fault he cannot even name.
He had confidence in God. But he could not understand what God somehow had against him — something he was not conscious of in himself. "Oh," he said, "why not pardon it, if there is something I am not aware of?"
Behind the puzzle lies a gap in what Job knew of God:
Everything was more or less confused, and people saw God as only a righteous God. But God is the God of all grace. Many people confuse God's grace with His goodness. Yet the goodness of God is quite a different thing from His grace. His goodness flows out in every kind of kindness, in patience with us, and in consideration for our weakness. But the grace of God means not merely His love, but His love rising above sin — His love triumphing over all our evil.
The closing line imagines God looking for him too late. Job pictures himself gone beyond reach:
If Job had sinned in whatever small measure, why would God not pardon this and take away his iniquity? He knew he had never rebelled against God on purpose. So he could not understand why God would not pardon small offences. Now all he could do was lie down in the dust. He felt so humiliated that God would not even be able to find him — he would "no longer be." Of course Job's words are ill-considered. They are the words of a tortured mind. Yet it is as well that what is in the heart comes out.
Job wants his guilt lifted away. But how can God spare a guilty man and remain righteous?
How can God say, "Deliver him from going down to the pit"? Is he just? Oh, no! Is he innocent? Oh, no! Does he not deserve to go down to the pit? Oh, yes! Then how can God be just in sparing him? "I have found a ransom" — or, as the margin reads, "atonement." Man is guilty. He has no righteousness. But God has found a ransom.
- Lift — "Pardon" means to lift a weight off a person; Job feels a load and knows only God can remove it.
- Light — His "I have sinned" is a supposition, not repentance. His upright life hid from him how deep his guilt went.
- Limit — He knew God as righteous and as the Observer who misses nothing, but not yet as the God whose love rises above sin.
- Loss — He measures everything by the grave: pardon must come now, because soon God will look and he will not be there.
- Ransom — Here is the answer he never reached: God can spare the guilty and stay just, because He has found a ransom.