he will not let me get my breath, but fills me with bitterness.
Job is answering Bildad. Instead of defending himself, he describes a God so strong that no one can argue a case against Him — and here the blows land faster than Job can recover.
The Plain Sense of the Words
Job read the blows as proof that God was not listening to him.
Leslie M. GrantInstead of God listening, Job saw Him as crushing him with a tempest and multiplying Job's wounds without any actual cause. This seemed so relentless that Job felt God was not giving him time to even catch his breath, so that bitterness filled him.
"Without Cause"
Job's description of the storm is accurate; his verdict on it is not. There was a reason for every wound, and it was a kind one.
William Kelly"For He breaks me with a tempest" — and that was true — "and multiplies my wounds without cause." Ah! without cause; that is a little too much to say. He had His own wise cause; He had His own blessed end. He meant Job to be a far happier man, in a brighter state than he had ever been in before. Until Christ came, that could only be done by making him a bag of broken bones — so Job would learn that all the goodness was in God and all the badness was in himself.
Bitterness Under a Calm Surface
Job speaks calmly here. The calm is not peace, and what he grants about God is not praise.
Samuel RidoutAlthough he speaks quietly, there is an intense bitterness in what Job says here. He seems to agree with Bildad that God is just. Job says, "Of course He is just, for there is no appeal from whatever He does. He has both wisdom and power, and can crush any useless effort to reason with Him." This is terrible. It is not someone humbly asking God for a reason, as Jeremiah does in similar circumstances. It is the hardness of despair — might is right, and God has might on His side.
No Way to Wash Himself Clean
A few verses later Job takes the thought to its end. If the verdict is already fixed, washing himself changes nothing — and out of that dead end comes his cry for a go-between.
Samuel RidoutJob hints that there is no use in trying to clear himself. If he is already pronounced wicked, he labours in vain to convince God that he is not. He may wash his hands in innocence, in snow water — and then this irresistible Power takes him and plunges him into the ditch! All efforts to change the judgment are useless. And oh — where is there a daysman, a mediator who could step into the case and lay his hands on God and Job alike? Consumed with terror, Job cannot speak. Thank God, we know, as Job later knew in part, that there is such a Daysman.
Daysman is the older word for an umpire or go-between who can put a hand on both parties.
Honest and Still Wretched
Job was not pretending; his conscience was clear. His misery came from somewhere else.
J. N. DarbyWhen there is real integrity of heart, there is struggle. The sense of integrity, without the knowledge of righteousness, is the cause of much misery in the heart. Job says, "Let not His fear terrify me." He had this fear. God has taken away the fear in Christ, and there is a daysman between us, such as Job felt the need of.
Summary
- No breath. The blows come faster than Job can recover. He gets no pause, and they leave him full of bitterness.
- No cause? The wounds were real, but "without cause" claims too much. God had His own wise cause and His own blessed end: a happier Job than before.
- No appeal. Job grants that God is just — but only because no one can argue with strength. That is despair, not worship.
- No washing. If the verdict is already settled, snow water changes nothing. So Job reaches for a daysman, someone who can lay a hand on both sides at once.
- No fear. A clear conscience without the knowledge of righteousness still leaves misery. In Christ, God has taken that fear away — He is the daysman Job was feeling for.