Why did I not die in the womb, why did I not perish when I came out of the belly?

“Do not be amazed when I tell you that Job did not speak these words. I mistake him for another. These are words that I lend to Job and are contrary to his benevolence and profound goodness. In fact, Job had no desire to say anything of the sort. He suffered righteously what he was suffering, so that he reasonably and wisely said that "he was not born." This is exactly what Christ himself said about Judas: "It would have been better for that man if he had not been born." And Job says much the same thing: "Why was I born? It would have been better if I had not been born."”

“MORAL INTERPRETATION. Why died I not from the womb? Why did I not give up the ghost when I came out of the belly? Why did the knees prevent me? or why the breasts that I should suck? Be the thought far from us, that blessed Job, who was endued with such high spiritual knowledge, and who had such a witness of praise from the Judge within, should wish that he had perished in abortive birth! But seeing, what we also learn by the reward which he received, that he has within the witness of his fortitude, the weight of his words is to be reckoned within. Now sin is committed in the heart in four ways, and in four ways it is consummated in act. For in the heart it is committed by the suggestion, the pleasure, the consent, and the boldness to defend. For the suggestion comes of the enemy; the pleasure, of the flesh; the consent, of the spirit; and boldness to uphold, of pride. For the sin, which ought to fill the mind with apprehension, only exalts it, and in throwing down uplifts, while by uplifting it causes its more grievous overthrow; and hence that upright frame, wherein the first man was created, was by our old foe dashed down by these four strokes. For the serpent tempted, Eve was pleased, Adam yielded consent, and even when called in question he refused in effrontery to confess his sin. The serpent tempted, in that the secret enemy silently suggests evil to man's heart. Eve was pleased, because the sense of the flesh, at the voice of the serpent, presently gives itself up to pleasure. And Adam, who was set above the woman, yielded consent, in that whilst the flesh is carried away in enjoyment, the spirit also being deprived of its strength gives in from its uprightness. And Adam when called in question would not confess his sin, in that, in proportion as the spirit is by committing sin severed from the Truth, it becomes worse hardened in shamelessness at its downfall. Sin is likewise completed in act by the self-same four methods; for first the fault is done in secret, but afterwards it is done openly before men's eyes without the blush of guilt, and next it is formed into a habit, finally, whether by the cheats of false hope, or the stubbornness of reckless despair, it is brought to full growth. These four modes of sin then, which either go on secretly in the heart, or which are executed in act, blessed Job views, and bewails the many stages of sin wherein the human race was fallen, saying, Why died I not from the womb? Why did I not give up the ghost when I came out of the belly? Why did the knees prevent me? or why the breasts that I should suck? For 'the womb of conception' at the first was the tongue of the evil suggestion. Now the sinner would 'perish in the womb,' if only man knew in the very suggestion itself that he would bring death upon himself. Yet 'he came forth from the belly,' in that, as soon as the tongue had conceived him in sin by its suggestions, the pleasure likewise, immediately hurried him forth; and after his coming forth, 'the knees prevented him,' in that having issued forth in the carnal gratification, he then completed the sin by the consent of the spirit, all the senses being made subservient like knees underneath. And 'the knees preventing him, the breasts did also give him suck.' For whereas, in the spirit's consenting to the sin, the senses were drawn into the service, the many reasonings of vain confidence followed, which nourished the soul thus born, in sin with poisoned milk, and lulled it with soothing excuses, that it should not fear the bitter punishment of death. And hence the first man waxed bolder after his sin, saying, The women whom thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree, and I did eat. And truly, he had fled to hide himself out of fear, yet when he was called in question, he made it appear how swoln he was with pride while he feared; for when punishment is feared as the present consequence of sin, and the face of God being lost is not loved, the fear is one that proceeds from a high stomach, and not from a lowly spirit. For he is full of pride who does not give over his sin, if be may go unpunished. But, as we have said, sin is committed in these four ways, as in the heart, so also in the deed; for he saith, Why died I not in the womb? For the womb to the sinner is the secret fault in man, which conceives the sinner under cover, and as yet hides its guilt in the dark. Why did I not give up the ghost, when I came out of the belly? For there is 'a coming out of the womb from the belly,' when the sinner does not blush to do openly as well the things, which he has been guilty of in secret. Thus they had as it were come out of the womb of their hiding place, of whom the Prophet spake it; And they declare their sin as Sodom, they hide it not. Why did the knees prevent me? In that the sinner, when he is not confounded at his wickedness, is strengthened in the same by the further stays of most heinous custom. The sinner is as it were nursed on the knees, till he grow bigger, so long as the sin is confirmed by habitual acts, till it acquires strength. Or why the breasts that I should suck? For when the sin has once begun to issue into habit, then, alas! the sinner feeds himself either with the fallacious hope of God's mercy, or with the open recklessness of despair, that he never may return back to self-amendment, in so far as he either extravagantly colours to himself the pitifulness of his Maker, or is extravagantly terrified at the sin that he has done. Let the blessed man, then, take a view of man's fall, and mark down what precipice he has plunged himself into the pit of iniquity, saying, Why died I not in the womb? i.e. 'Why would I not, in the very secret act of sin in the heart, kill myself to the life of the flesh?' Why did I not give up the ghost, when I came out of the belly? i.e. 'Why, when I came forth in the overt act, died I not, was I not then at least instructed that I was undone?' For he would have 'given up the ghost' in his condemnation of himself, if he had known that he was lost. Why did the knees prevent me? i.e. 'Even after the open act of sin, why, yet further, did the custom too take me up in it, to make me stronger to commit sin, and to nurse and sustain me with habitual wicked acts?' Why the breasts, that I should suck? i.e. 'After I entered into the habit of sin, why did I rear myself to a more tremendous pitch of iniquity, either by reliance on false hope, or by the milk of a miserable despair?' For when the fault has been brought into a habit, the mind, even if it be inclined, by this time resists more feebly: for it becomes bound upon the mind by as many chains, as there are recurrences of the evil practice that clench it fast, Whence it happens that the mind, being sapped of strength, when it has no power to get free, turns to some resource or other of fallacious consolation, so as to flatter itself that the Judge, Who is to come, is of so great mercy, that even those, whom He shall find deserving of condemnation, He will never wholly destroy. Whereunto there is this worst addition, that the tongue of many like him abets him, since there are many who magnify with their praises these very misdeeds; whence it comes to pass that the fault is continually growing, nourished by applauses. Also then we neglect to heal the wound, which is counted worthy of the meed of praise, Hence Solomon says well, My son, if sinners give thee suck, consent thou not. For the wicked 'give suck,' whenever they either put wicked acts in our way to be done by their enticements, or applaud them with marks of favour when done. Does not he suck of whom the Psalmist says, For the wicked man is commended in his heart's desire; and he that doeth iniquity receives a blessing? We must also know, that those three modes of being sinners are more easily corrected as they come in their order downwards; but the fourth is not corrected but with difficulty. And hence our Saviour raises the damsel in the house, the young man without the gate, while Lazarus He raises in the grave; for he that sins in secret is as yet lying dead in the house, he is already being carried without the gate, whose iniquity is done openly, even to the shamelessness of commission in public; but he is pressed with the sepulchral mound, who, in the commission of sin, is over and above pressed and overlaid with the use of habit. But all these in mercy He restores to life; in that it is often the case that Divine grace enlighteneth with the light of its regard those that are dead not only in secret sins, but likewise in open evil practices, and that are overlaid with the weight of evil habit. But our Saviour knows indeed of a fourth being dead from the disciple's lips, yet never raises him to life; in that it is hard indeed for one, whom, after continuance in bad habit, the tongues of flatterers too get hold of, to be recovered from the death of the soul; and of such an one it is said with justice, Let the dead bury their dead. For 'the dead bury the dead,' as often as sinners load sinners with their approval. For what else is it to 'sin,' but to lie down in death? and to 'bury,' except it be to hide? But they that pursue the sinner with their applauses, bury the dead body under the mound of their words. Now Lazarus too was dead, yet he was never buried by the dead. For the believing women, who also gave tidings of his death to the Quickener, had laid him under the ground. And hence he forthwith returned back to the light; for when the soul is dead in sin, it is soon brought back, if anxious thoughts live over it. But sometimes, as we have likewise said above, it is not false hope that cuts off the mind, but a more deadly despair pierces it. And whereas this totally cuts off all hope of pardon, it supplies the soul with the milk of error in greater abundance. Let the holy man then consider, what wickedness man has been guilty of, yet for the worse, after the first sin, and, after he had lost paradise, to what broken steeps he descended in this place of exile, and let him say, Why died I not in the womb? i.e. 'When the suggestion of the serpent conceived me a sinner, O that I had then known the death that would come upon me; lest the suggestion should transport me to the length of delight, and should link me more closely to death.' Why did I not give up the ghost when I came out of the belly? As though he said, 'O that when I came out to the external gratification, I had known that I was parting with the internal light; so that I had at least died at the point of this gratification only, that death might not inflict a sharper sting through the consent.' Why did the knees prevent me? As though he said, 'O that the consent had never caught me, my senses being made to bear up my frowardness, that my own consenting might not hurry me yet for the worse into shamelessness.' Or why the breasts that I should suck? As though he said, 'O that I had at least refused to flatter myself, after ill acts committed, that I might not attach myself thereby the more wickedly to my fault, the more softly I dealt with myself therein.' So then in these words of reproach, he charged himself with having sinned in our first parent. But had man never been brought down to the wretchedness of this place of banishment, by committing sin, let him say what peace he might have had.”

“Why did I not die from the womb? why was I not ready to die immediately upon my emergence from the womb? He speaks in the future tense, as though he were standing now on the day of his emergence from the womb and saying, “Why will I not die now, and why did I not... emerge from the belly and perish?” Why was my death not imminent?”

“After this Job opened his mouth, and so forth. As was said above, concerning the passions of the soul there was a twofold opinion among the ancients: for the Stoics said that sadness does not befall the wise man, while the Peripatetics said that the wise man does indeed feel sadness, but in his sadness comports himself moderately according to reason; and this latter opinion agrees with the truth. For reason cannot take away the condition of nature; and it is natural to sensible nature both to take delight and rejoice in fitting things and to grieve and be saddened at harmful ones: this, therefore, reason cannot take away, but it moderates it in such a way that through sadness reason is not turned aside from its rectitude. This opinion also agrees with sacred Scripture, which places sadness in Christ, in whom is the whole fullness of virtue and wisdom. Thus, then, Job from the aforementioned adversities did indeed feel sadness — otherwise the virtue of patience would have had no place in him — but on account of sadness his reason did not decline from rectitude; rather he held dominion over his sadness. To show this, then, it is said, after this Job opened his mouth. Now he says after this, that is, after the seven days of silence; from which it becomes clear that the words which follow were uttered according to reason, through a sadness not thrown into disorder. For if they had been spoken out of a disturbance of mind, he would have uttered them earlier, when the force of his sadness was more vehement; for any sadness is softened by length of time and is felt more strongly at the beginning. For this reason he seems to have kept silent so long, lest he be judged to speak with a disordered mind. This is also shown by the fact that it is said he opened his mouth; for when someone speaks out of the impulse of passion, it is not he himself who opens his mouth, but he is driven by passion to speak: for we are not masters of our acts through passion, but through reason alone. Yet by speaking he showed the sadness he was suffering: for it is customary among the wise that they speak from reason the movements of the passions which they feel, just as Christ also said, "My soul is sorrowful even unto death," and the Apostle says in Romans 8, "For the good which I will, I do not; but the evil which I hate, that I do." So too Boethius, at the beginning of the Consolation, laid open his sadness in order to show how he might soften it by reason; so too Job, by speaking, laid open his sadness. Hence there follows: and he cursed his day, which seems to be contrary to what the Apostle says in Romans 12:14, "Bless, and curse not." But it must be known that "to curse" is said in many ways: for since to curse is nothing other than to say something evil, one is said to curse as often as it happens that one says something evil. Now it happens that someone says something evil of another in three ways. First, by an utterance causing evil, as the divine utterance is the cause of the things that are said, and the sentence of a judge condemning someone is the cause of the punishment of him who is condemned; and in this way is understood what the Lord said in Genesis 3:17, "Cursed is the earth in thy work," and Genesis 10, "Cursed be Canaan, let him be servant of his brethren"; and Joshua cursed Achor, who had taken from the accursed thing. Second, by imprecating or wishing evil, as we read in 1 Kings that the Philistine cursed David in his ways. Third, it happens that someone says something evil simply by declaring it, whether in the present, the past, or the future, whether truly or falsely. The Apostle, therefore, forbids that cursing by which someone imprecates evil upon another or falsely defames him, but not that manner in which a judge condemns the guilty, or someone truthful orderly points out the evil of some thing, whether by showing what is present, or recounting what is past, or foretelling what is future. Thus, then, it must be understood that Job cursed his day because he declared it to be evil — not according to its nature, by which it was created by God, but according to that custom of Scripture by which a time is called good or evil according to the things that are done in that time, according to that word of the Apostle in Ephesians 5:16, "Redeeming the time, because the days are evil." Job, therefore, cursed his day inasmuch as he calls to mind that evil things befell him on that very day. How he cursed it, however, is added: and he said: let the day perish in which I was born, and the night in which it was said: a man is conceived. Now it must be known that although being and living are in themselves desirable, yet being and living in misery is, as such, to be fled from, although sometimes being in misery is willingly endured for the sake of some end; hence that miserable life which is not ordered to some good end is in no way to be chosen, according to what the Lord says in Matthew 26:24, "It were better for that man if he had not been born." But the good which is hoped for from some misery, reason alone apprehends; the sensitive power does not perceive it — just as taste perceives the bitterness of medicine, but reason alone delights in the end of health; if, then, someone wished to express the passion of his own taste, he would declare the medicine to be bad, although reason would judge it to be good on account of the end. So, then, the misery which blessed Job was enduring could indeed seem to reason to be useful in some respect, but the lower part of the soul, which was being affected by sadness on account of it, wholly repudiated the adversity; hence even the very act of living under such adversity was hateful to him. Now when something is hateful to us, we abominate all the things through which we came to it; and therefore Job, according to the lower part of the soul — whose passion he now intended to express — held in hatred both his birth and his conception, from which he had come into this life, and consequently the day of his nativity and the night of his conception, according to that manner of speaking whereby something is ascribed as good or evil to a time from the things done in that time. Thus, then, Job, because according to the sensitive part he repudiated life under adversity, wished that he had never been born or conceived, and this is what he says, let the day perish in which I was born, as if he were to say, "I would that I had never been born." And the night in which it was said — that is, in which it could truly be said — a man is conceived, that is, "would that I had never been conceived." And he arranges it fittingly, because when the nativity is removed the conception is not thereby removed, but rather the reverse; and he fittingly ascribes conception to the night and nativity to the day, because according to astrologers a daytime birth is more praiseworthy, the more principal star, namely the sun, being over the earth, whereas conception occurs more frequently at night. A similar manner of speaking is found in Jeremiah 20:14: "Cursed be the day wherein I was born; let not the day wherein my mother bore me be blessed." Having thus set down the curse of the day of his nativity and the night of his conception, he proceeds to treat each separately, and first concerning the cursing of the day of his nativity, saying, let that day be turned into darkness. Now it must be considered that, as Jerome says in the Prologue, from the words of Job in which he says let the day perish in which I was born up to that place where, near the end of the book, it is written, "therefore I reprehend myself," the verses are hexameters, running in dactyl and spondee; and thus it is clear that from this point the book is written after the manner of a poem, wherefore throughout this whole book he uses the figures and colors which poets are accustomed to use. Now poets are accustomed, in order to move more vehemently, to bring forward various things to the same purport; hence here too Job, in cursing his day, brings forward, according to the manner we have described, those things by which a day is wont to be rendered hateful. Now the dignity of a day is its brightness, for by this it is distinguished from night; this dignity, then, he excludes, saying, let that day be turned into darkness — a statement which, as to the surface of the letter, seems frivolous and vain. For the day of his nativity had already passed and now was not; and what has passed is unchangeable: how, then, could a day that had passed be turned into darkness? But it must be known that certain things are said by way of wishing, in order to express a judgment held concerning some matter; thus, then, it is now said, let that day be turned into darkness, as if it were said: the day of my nativity ought to have been dark, so that it might accord with the darkness of the misery which I suffer. For since the sight of light is delightful, according to that word of Ecclesiastes 11:7, "Light is sweet, and it is delightful for the eyes to see the sun," it is customary in the Scriptures that sadness be signified by darkness, according to that word of Ecclesiastes 5:16, "he eateth in darkness, and in many cares, and in wretchedness and sorrow." Now a day is bright in many ways: first, indeed, from God's sanctification, who instituted it to be celebrated, as is found in Exodus 20:8, "Remember that thou keep holy the sabbath day"; this brightness, then, he removes from the aforesaid day, saying, let not God regard it from above, as if he were to say: let not God require of men that they keep this day as a feast. For certain days are required by God for celebration on account of some notable benefit conferred on men on that day, as the sabbath in the old law on account of the benefit of creation, and the day of Passover on account of the benefit of deliverance from Egypt; which is also evident in the feast days celebrated in the New Testament. He means, then, to signify by this that his nativity ought not to be reckoned among God's notable benefits, since he seems rather to have been born unto misery than unto joy. Second, a day is bright from the remembrance of men: for men are accustomed to keep certain days as festive, on which some great and joyful things befell them, as Herod and Pharaoh used to celebrate the day of their birth; this brightness, then, he removes from the aforesaid day, saying, and let it not be in remembrance — namely, the remembrance of men — because, evidently, nothing joyful happened on that day, but rather something sad, as appears from the outcome. Third, a day is bright from bodily light, and this brightness is taken away in several ways: first, indeed, by the withdrawal of the rays of the sun that illumine the earth, as is evident when the sun is eclipsed, and as to this he says, nor let it be lightened with light; second, by the interposition of clouds or other such things hiding the rays of the sun, and as to this he says, let darkness cover it; third, by a defect of the visual power, for when someone dies or is deprived of sight, the brightness of day is, as far as he is concerned, taken away, and as to this he says, and the shadow of death. Now the manner of the aforesaid darkening he explains in two ways: first, as to order, in that he says, let a mist seize upon it — for then a day is seized by a mist when upon a day previously shining darkness is suddenly and unexpectedly brought on, the like of which appears in the life of Job himself; second, as to the kind of darkness, in that he says, and let it be wrapped in bitterness, by which he gives us to understand that everything which has been said about the darkening is to be referred to the darkness of sadness — for he seems to observe this practice, of explaining a parabolic saying from something that follows. Through all these things, then, he means to say nothing other than that the day of his nativity ought to be judged a day not of joy but of grief, since through his nativity he came into a life subject to such great adversity. After the cursing, then, of the day of his nativity, he consequently curses the night of his conception according to a similar manner of speaking, and first he attributes to it that by which a night is rendered more horrible. For since night, on account of darkness, is horrid in itself, the more the darkness of night is increased, the more horrid it is rendered, which happens when some great tempest arises in the night; and as to this he says, let a dark whirlwind possess that night, as if he were to say: it would have been fitting for that night to be possessed by a dark whirlwind, that it might match my life, which is caught up in so great a whirlwind of adversity. Then he removes from it those things which seem to belong to the good of a night, and first as to the opinion of men. For since men distinguish times according to the things that are done in that time, and in the night few or no things worthy of memory are done, night is not noted in itself in men's memories, but as joined to the day. This good, then, he removes from the aforesaid night, saying, let it not be counted in the days of the year, nor numbered in the months, as if he were to say: that night is not worthy of memory, since nothing notable happened in it, but rather something sorrowful. Now among the nights that are kept in the memories of men, some are not only memorable but also celebrated and festive, in which men gather together to hold some feast, and this he removes, saying, let that night be solitary. Now such a gathering of men on some night takes place in praise and celebration of that night on account of some famous deed which is commemorated on that night, as is done among the faithful on the night of the Lord's resurrection; and therefore he adds, nor worthy of praise — for some night is worthy of praise on account of some great deed occurring on that night. From this, then, he means nothing other than to signify that his conception was not something great, nor ordered to good, but rather to the evil of adversity which he was feeling; hence he adds, let them curse it who curse the day, who are ready to raise up Leviathan. This, according to the letter, can be explained in two ways: in one way, according as by Leviathan is understood some great fish, as seems to fit with what is said of it at the end of this book, "Canst thou," he says, "draw out Leviathan with a hook?" And according to this it must be understood that those who fish for such great fish attack them by night, in darkness, and therefore when day begins to appear they curse the day, because by it their work and intention is impeded. In another way it can be understood that by Leviathan is signified the ancient dragon, namely the Devil, according to that word of Isaiah 27:1, "In that day the Lord with his hard and great and strong sword shall visit Leviathan the crooked serpent." Those, then, are ready to raise up Leviathan who strive to fulfill the suggestions of the Devil, giving themselves over to works of iniquity, who curse the day because, as it is said in John 4, "everyone that doth evil hateth the light," and below, in 24:15, it is said, "the eye of the adulterer watcheth for darkness," and afterward, "if suddenly the morning appear, he thinketh it the shadow of death." According to this, then, just as by his saying nor worthy of praise he means the aforesaid night to be hateful to the good, so by adding let them curse it, etc., he means it to be hateful to the evil as well: for both the good and the evil abhor adversity. Then he excludes from the aforesaid night those things which seem to belong to the natural good of a night, of which one is that a night is adorned by the sight of the stars, and this he removes, saying, let the stars be darkened with the mist thereof; another is that it is adorned by the hope of the day, and this he removes, saying, let it look for light and not see it, as if he were to say: although it is natural that in the night the light of day be looked for, yet let that night have infinite darkness, which is never terminated by the succession of the light of day. For the darkness of night is wholly excluded by the full light of day, but is diminished by the twilight of the dawn; he imprecates upon the aforesaid night not only that its darkness not be excluded by day, but that it not even be diminished by the dawn; hence he says, nor let it see the rising of the dawn as it rises. But because what he had said seemed impossible — namely, that day and dawn should not succeed the night — he shows from what sense this was said, adding, because it shut not up the doors of the belly that bore me. For the life of man is hidden in the mother's womb, hence it is compared to the darkness of night; but when through birth it comes forth into the open, then it bears a likeness to the clear day; therefore he said that that night should have neither day nor a following dawn to succeed it, in order to show that he wished his conception had never come to birth, nor to childhood, which is understood by the dawn, nor to youth, which is designated by the full light of day. Now he says because it shut not up, etc., not that the night itself shuts up the womb, that is, impedes birth, but because this is done in the night: for from the conception itself an impediment can be furnished so that the conceived does not come to birth. And because this too seemed unreasonable, that anyone should abhor life, since to be and to live is desirable to all, he shows for what reason he said this, when he adds, nor did it take away evils from mine eyes, as if he were to say: I do not abhor life itself for its own sake, but on account of the evils which I suffer; for although life in itself is desirable, yet not life subject to miseries is desirable. Here it must be considered that everything he had spoken figuratively above, he seems to have expounded by this final clause, which is also to be noted in his other sayings. Why did I not die in the womb? After he had cursed the day of his nativity and the night of his conception, in order to show that he abhorred the beginnings of his life, he now shows that he abhors his preservation in life, that from these things he might more manifestly show that his life is burdensome to him. Now there is a twofold state of life: one hidden, in which the conceived live in the womb; the other manifest, in which men live after their birth from the womb. As to the first state, then, he says, why did I not die in the womb? As to the second: why, having come forth from the womb, did I not perish at once? And of this second he treats first. Now it must be known that exterior life is taken away in two ways: sometimes indeed from some harm supervening, whether intrinsic, as is sickness, or extrinsic, as the sword or something of this kind, and to this can be referred what he said, having come forth from the womb, why did I not perish at once? Sometimes, however, from the withdrawal of a necessary aid, which is either extrinsic, as are conveyances, wrappings, and other such helps, and as to this he says, why was I received upon the knees? Or intrinsic, as is food, and as to this he says, or why was I suckled at the breasts? For the life of a newborn child needs these aids in its beginning. And because when someone says why was this done? he gives us to understand that this was done to no purpose, therefore he consequently shows that it would have been useless for him to have been preserved in life, indeed rather harmful. This he shows first as to the evils which he now suffers, saying, for now, sleeping, I should be silent — for he calls death a sleep on account of the hope of resurrection, of which he will speak more fully afterward; and by silence he understands rest from the adversities which he was suffering, as if he were to say: if I had died immediately after birth, I would not be disturbed by these evils which I suffer. Second, as to the good things which he had had before; for someone might say to him: if you had not been preserved in life, you would not have had the good things which you once had; but as if answering to this, he shows that not even on account of those goods of life ought his preservation to have been desired: for even those who throughout their whole life flourish in the greatest prosperity are brought to this same end, namely death; this, then, is what he means when he says, and in my sleep, that is, in death, I should be at rest — that is, I would be free from the disquietudes of life — with the kings and counselors of the earth. Now it must be known that of those who are established in positions of dignity, who seem most to prosper, the intention is either toward the enjoyment of pleasures, and as to these he says, who build themselves solitudes — according to the letter, wishing to be solitary for the sake of hunting or other pleasures — or toward the amassing of riches, and as to these he says, or with princes that possess gold, and fill their houses with silver, as if he were to say: if I had died immediately after birth, I would now have nothing less than those have, after death, who prosper in many things. Now it must be considered that, since to rest belongs only to that which subsists, from these words he gives us to understand that man, as to his soul, subsists after death. But if someone should object that such kings or princes of whom he speaks perhaps do not rest but are in the punishments of hell, or also that life was useful to Job himself in this, that it gained him merit, it must be noted that, as we said above, Job is now speaking from the person of the sensual part, expressing its affection, which has regard only to bodily and present goods or evils. Thus, then, after he has shown that it was not to be desired by him that he be preserved after his birth, he consequently shows that it was not to be desired by him that, being preserved in the womb, he should have come to birth, expounding what he had said above, why did I not die in the womb? Now it must be considered that some die in the womb before the infusion of the rational soul, which alone is immortal, and as to this he says, or as one hidden and untimely born, I should not have subsisted — for from such abortive offspring nothing perpetual remains; but some die after the infusion of the rational soul, who indeed subsist after death as to the soul, but do not see the light of this world, and as to this he says, or, understand "as," they who, being conceived, have not seen the light — namely, of the present life. And that this would have been desirable for him he shows by this, that he would not have been subject to the evils of this life; hence he says, there — that is, in the state of those who, being conceived, have not seen the light — the wicked have ceased from tumult, namely that which they inflicted upon others by afflicting them, which refers to freedom from the evil of guilt; and there — that is, in the state of the dead — those wearied in strength, that is, warriors who have been fatigued by waging wars, have rested — that is, they have been free from such toil, because, as has been said, he now speaks only of rest from the evils of the present life; it can also be understood of weariness in whatever labor one endures by working with his strength. And those who were once bound shall be there together without disquiet, that is, without their former distress, together with those who kept them bound; and there men oppressed by forced labors or servitudes have not heard the voice of the taskmaster, according to that which is said in Isaiah 14:4, "How hath the oppressor ceased, the tribute hath ceased!" And that this is true he shows by adding, the small and the great are there, and they are alike, for smallness and greatness in this life are according to the inequality of earthly prosperity, which being removed, men remain equal according to nature; what he says, then, the small and the great, must be understood thus: that is, those who in this life differed according to the greatness of earthly prosperity. It must be known, however, that a difference of greatness and smallness according to spiritual goods remains even there, but of these he is not now speaking, as has already been said. And there the servant is free from his master, wherefore forced labor or anything of the sort will have no place. Why is light given to the wretched? After Job had detested his own life in many ways, he now detests, in common, the life of the whole human race — both as to those who are in prosperity and as to those who are in adversity — of which he treats first, beginning, as it were, from what is more manifest. Now it must be known that among the living two things seem to be principal, namely, to live and to know. And indeed to know, although it is most delightful and most noble in itself, yet to know those things which afflict a man is painful; and therefore he says, why is light given to the wretched? as if he were to say: to what purpose does it profit a man subject to miseries that he has the light of knowledge, since through it he considers the evils by which he is afflicted? Now to live is noble on account of the soul; but if the soul is in bitterness, the very act of living is rendered bitter, and therefore he says, and life to them that are in bitterness of soul, resuming, why is it given? And that it is given uselessly he shows by this reasoning, that the contrary of it is desired by the wretched; hence he says, who — namely, those existing in bitterness — look for death, and it cometh not — namely, as quickly as they wish. And to show that they look for death not shrinking from it but desiring it, he adds, as they that dig for a treasure — those, namely, who are kindled with great desire that by digging they may arrive at the treasure. And because desire, when fulfilled, brings forth joy, he adds, and they rejoice exceedingly when they have found the grave — that is, when they see themselves arrive at death, through which they find the grave. Some, indeed, refer this to those who dig for treasure, who rejoice at having found a grave, because in ancient tombs treasures were accustomed to be found; but the first exposition is better. And because someone might say that although life is given uselessly to the wretched, yet it is given usefully to those who are in prosperity, to remove this he adds, to a man whose way is hidden — understand, why is light and life given? For a man's way is hidden because it is not known to what point the state of present prosperity will come; for it is said in Proverbs 14:13, "Laughter shall be mingled with sorrow, and mourning taketh hold of the end of joy," and it is said in Jeremiah 10:23, "the way of man is not his own," and in Ecclesiastes 7:1, "What need is it for a man to seek things above him, whereas he knoweth not what is profitable for him in his life?... Or who can tell him what shall be after him under the sun?" How it is, however, that a man's way is hidden, he explains, adding, and God hath surrounded him with darkness, which indeed is manifest in many ways: as to those things which are before and after, according to that word of Ecclesiastes 8:6-7, "the affliction of man is great upon him," for he is ignorant of the past, and the future he can know by no messenger; and as to those things which are alongside, namely, in men, according to that word of 1 Corinthians 2:11, "who knoweth the things of a man, but the spirit of the man which is in him?" And as to those things which are above, according to that word of 1 Timothy, at the end, "who inhabiteth light inaccessible," namely God, "whom no man hath seen, nor can see"; and it is said in the Psalm that "he made darkness his covert"; and as to those things which are below, for it is said in Ecclesiastes 1:8, "All things are difficult, man cannot explain them by speech." Now God is said to have surrounded man with darkness because God granted him such an understanding that he cannot know the aforesaid things. Having shown, then, that the life of men is difficult on account of the misery and bitterness of men, he applies to himself these things which he had said in common, expressing his own bitterness when he says, before I eat I sigh; for as laughter is a sign of joy, so sighing is a sign of the bitterness of the soul: he shows, then, from the manner of his sighing the measure of his bitterness. His sighing, then, both began early — for he says, before I eat I sigh — and it was continual and great; hence he adds, and as overflowing waters, so is my roaring; for as sighing is a sign of moderate sadness, so roaring is a sign of a sadness that is vehement and can scarcely be borne. Now this roaring is compared to the roaring of water: for water is easily moved and makes a murmuring sound; so too a man set in great affliction is provoked to roaring by a slight recollection of his misery. He adds, moreover, of overflowing water, to show the continuity of his bitterness: for overflowing water is continually in motion and makes a sound. But because the bitterness of the soul arises from misery, after the bitterness of soul he adds, concerning his misery, saying, for the fear which I feared hath come upon me. And it must be noted that the misery of man that provokes to bitterness seems to consist in two things: in losses of goods or of person, and in dishonors. As to the first, then, he says, the fear which I feared hath come upon me, that is, the things which I feared have befallen me, whereby the magnitude of his losses and punishments is expressed; for the more prudent someone is, the more, in a state of prosperity, he considers beforehand what may happen to him in a time of adversity, according to that word of Ecclesiasticus 11:27, "In the day of good things be not unmindful of evils"; great, then, was the misery which the most prudent Job was suffering, since the things he had feared befell him. As to the second, namely as to dishonors, he says, and what I was afraid of hath come to me; for shame, according to the Philosopher, is a fear of dishonor; by this, then, he shows that from great glory he had fallen into many reproaches and dishonors. Now someone is accustomed to suffer misery and bitterness, but through his own fault; Job removes this, saying, have I not dissembled? And it must be known that someone offends, and thereby merits punishment from God, in two ways: in one way, when from injuries inflicted upon him he is provoked beyond measure to revenge, according to what is said in the Psalm, "If I have rendered to them that repaid me evils, let me deservedly fall empty before my enemies" — this he removes from himself, saying, have I not dissembled? — namely, the injuries done to me; in another way, when he himself first offends another, either by words, and this he removes, saying, have I not been silent? as if he were to say, I have uttered to no one contumelious or injurious words; or by deeds, and this he removes from himself, saying, have I not been quiet? for the wicked are like the raging sea which cannot rest, Isaiah 57:20. And although I am innocent, yet indignation is come upon me, that is, punishment from God — for wrath in God is not taken for a disturbance of mind, but for punishment — in which he recognizes that the adversities of this world do not come about apart from the divine nod. If, then, someone wishes to gather what has been said in this lament of Job, it must be known that three things are contained in it: for first he shows that his life is wearisome to him; second, the magnitude of the misery which he was suffering, there, before I eat, etc.; third, he shows his own innocence, when he says, have I not dissembled, and so forth.”

“Job, perhaps reflecting upon himself for his folly in wishing he had never been born, follows it, and thinks to mend it, with another, little better, that he had died as soon as he was born, which he enlarges upon in these verses. When our Saviour would set forth a very calamitous state of things he seems to allow such a saying as this, Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bore, and the paps which never gave suck (Luk 23:29); but blessing the barren womb is one thing and cursing the fruitful womb is another! It is good to make the best of afflictions, but it is not good to make the worst of mercies. Our rule is, Bless, and curse not. Life is often put for all good, and death for all evil; yet Job here very absurdly complains of life and its supports as a curse and plague to him, and covets death and the grave as the greatest and most desirable bliss. Surely Satan was deceived in Job when he applied that maxim to him, All that a man hath will he give for his life; for never any man valued life at a lower rate than he did. I. He ungratefully quarrels with life, and is angry that it was not taken from him as soon as it was given him (Job 3:11, Job 3:12): Why died not I from the womb? See here, 1. What a weak and helpless creature man is when he comes into the world, and how slender the thread of life is when it is first drawn. We are ready to die from the womb, and to breathe our last as soon as we begin to breathe at all. We can do nothing for ourselves, as other creatures can, but should drop into the grave if the knees did not prevent us; and the lamp of life, when first lighted, would go out of itself if the breasts given us, that we should suck, did not supply it with fresh oil. 2. What a merciful and tender care divine Providence took of us at our entrance into the world. It was owing to this that we died not from the womb and did not give up the ghost when we came out of the belly. Why were we not cut off as soon as we were born? Not because we did not deserve it. Justly might such weeds have been plucked up as soon as they appeared; justly might such cockatrices have been crushed in the egg. Nor was it because we did, or could, take any care of ourselves and our own safety: no creature comes into the world so shiftless as man. It was not our might, or the power of our hand, that preserved us these beings, but God's power and providence upheld our frail lives, and his pity and patience spared our forfeited lives. It was owing to this that the knees prevented us. Natural affection is put into parents' hearts by the hand of the God of nature: and hence it was that the blessings of the breast attended those of the womb. 3. What a great deal of vanity and vexation of spirit attends human life. If we had not a God to serve in this world, and better things to hope for in another world, considering the faculties we are endued with and the troubles we are surrounded with, we should be strongly tempted to wish that we had died from the womb, which would have prevented a great deal both of sin and misery. He that is born today, and dies tomorrow, Loses some hours of joy, but months of sorrow. 4. The evil of impatience, fretfulness, and discontent. When they thus prevail they are unreasonable and absurd, impious and ungrateful. To indulge them is a slighting and undervaluing of God's favour. How much soever life is embittered, we must say, "It was of the Lord's mercies that we died not from the womb, that we were not consumed." Hatred of life is a contradiction to the common sense and sentiments of mankind, and to our own at any other time. Let discontented people declaim ever so much against life, they will be loth to part with it when it comes to the point. When the old man in the fable, being tired with his burden, threw it down with discontent and called for Death, and Death came to him and asked him what he would have with him, he then answered, "Nothing, but to help me up with my burden." II. He passionately applauds death and the grave, and seems quite in love with them. To desire to die that we may be with Christ, that we may be free from sin, and that we may be clothed upon with our house which is from heaven, is the effect and evidence of grace; but to desire to die only that we may be quiet in the grave, and delivered from the troubles of this life, savours of corruption. Job's considerations here may be of good use to reconcile us to death when it comes, and to make us easy under the arrest of it; but they ought not to be made use of as a pretence to quarrel with life while it is continued, or to make us uneasy under the burdens of it. It is our wisdom and duty to make the best of that which is, be it living or dying, and so to live to the Lord and die to the Lord, and to be his in both, Rom 14:8. Job here frets himself with thinking that if he had but died as soon as he was born, and been carried from the womb to the grave, 1. His condition would have been as good as that of the best: I would have been (says he, Job 3:14) with kings and counsellors of the earth, whose pomp, power, and policy, cannot set them out of the reach of death, nor secure them from the grave, nor distinguish theirs from common dust in the grave. Even princes, who had gold in abundance, could not with it bribe Death to overlook them when he came with commission; and, though they filled their houses with silver, yet they were forced to leave it all behind them, no more to return to it. Some, by the desolate places which the kings and counsellors are here said to build for themselves, understand the sepulchres or monuments they prepared for themselves in their life-time; as Shebna (Isa 22:16) hewed himself out a sepulchre; and by the gold which the princes had, and the silver with which they filled their houses, they understand the treasures which, they say, it was usual to deposit in the graves of great men. Such arts have been used to preserve their dignity, if possible, on the other side death, and to keep themselves from lying even with those of inferior rank; but it will not do: death is, and will be, an irresistible leveller. Mors sceptra ligonibus aequat - Death mingles sceptres with spades. Rich and poor meet together in the grave; and there a hidden untimely birth (Job 3:16), a child that either never saw light or but just opened its eyes and peeped into the world, and, not liking it, closed them again and hastened out of it, lies as soft and easy, lies as high and safe, as kings and counsellors, and princes, that had gold. "And therefore," says Job, "would I had lain there in the dust, rather than to lie here in the ashes!" 2. His condition would have been much better than now it was (Job 3:13): "Then should I have lain still, and been quiet, which now I cannot do, I cannot be, but am still tossing and unquiet; then I should have slept, whereas now sleep departeth from my eyes; then had I been at rest, whereas now I am restless." Now that life and immortality are brought to a much clearer light by the gospel than before they were placed in good Christians can give a better account than this of the gain of death: "Then should I have been present with the Lord; then should I have seen his glory face to face, and no longer through a glass darkly." But all that poor Job dreamed of was rest and quietness in the grave out of the fear of evil tidings and out of the feeling of sore boils. Then should I have been quiet; and had he kept his temper, his even easy temper still, which he was in as recorded in the two foregoing chapters, entirely resigned to the holy will of God and acquiescing in it, he might have been quiet now; his soul, at least, might have dwelt at ease, even when his body lay in pain, Psa 25:13. Observe how finely he describes the repose of the grave, which (provided the soul also be at rest in God) may much assist our triumphs over it. (1.) Those that now are troubled will there be out of the reach of trouble (Job 3:17): There the wicked cease from troubling. When persecutors die they can no longer persecute; their hatred and envy will then perish. Herod had vexed the church, but, when he became a prey for worms, he ceased from troubling. When the persecuted die they are out of the danger of being any further troubled. Had Job been at rest in his grave, he would have had no disturbance from the Sabeans and Chaldeans, none of all his enemies would have created him any trouble. (2.) Those that are now toiled will there see the period of their toils. There the weary are at rest. Heaven is more than a rest to the souls of the saints, but the grave is a rest to their bodies. Their pilgrimage is a weary pilgrimage; sin and the world they are weary of; their services, sufferings, and expectations, they are wearied with; but in the grave they rest from all their labours, Rev 14:13; Isa 57:2. They are easy there, and make no complaints; there believers sleep in Jesus. (3.) Those that were here enslaved are there at liberty. Death is the prisoner's discharge, the relief of the oppressed, and the servant's manumission (Job 3:18): There the prisoners, though they walk not at large, yet they rest together, and are not put to work, to grind in that prison-house. They are no more insulted and trampled upon, menaced and terrified, by their cruel task-masters: They hear not the voice of the oppressor. Those that were here doomed to perpetual servitude, that could call nothing their own, no, not their own bodies, are there no longer under command or control: There the servant is free from his master, which is a good reason why those that have power should use it moderately, and those that are in subjection should bear it patiently, yet a little while. (4.) Those that were at a vast distance from others are there upon a level (Job 3:19): The small and great are there, there the same, there all one, all alike free among the dead. The tedious pomp and state which attend the great are at an end there. All the inconveniences of a poor and low condition are likewise over; death and the grave know no difference. Levelled by death, the conqueror and the slave, The wise and foolish, cowards and the brave, Lie mixed and undistinguished in the grave. - Sir R. Blackmore”

“Why died I not from the womb?.... That is, as soon as he came out of it; or rather, as soon as he was in it, or from the time that he was in it; or however, while he was in it, that so he might not have come alive out of it; which sense seems best to agree both with what goes before and follows after; for since his conception in the womb was not hindered, he wishes he had died in it; and so some versions render it to this sense (n): why did I not give up the ghost when I came out of the belly? since he died not in the womb, which was desirable to him, he wishes that the moment he came out of it he had expired, and is displeased because it was not so, see Jer 20:17; thus what is the special favour of Providence, to be taken out of the womb alive, and preserved, he wishes not to have enjoyed, see Psa 22:9. (n) , Sept. "in vulva", V. L. "aut, in utero", Beza, Mercerus, Cocceius, Junius, Michaelis; so R. Abraham Peritzol, and Simeon Bar Tzemach.”