Now My Eyes Have Seen You

Images of Creation and Evil in the Book of Job

Robert Fyall, D. A. Carson

• Publisher: IVP Academic
• Year: 2002
• ISBN:
  9780830871414
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Biblical Studies

'Now my eyes have seen you." (Job 42: 5) Few biblical texts are more daunting, and yet more fascinating, than the book of Job—and few have been the subject of such diverse interpretation. For Robert Fyall, the mystery of God's ways and the appalling evil and suffering in the world are at the heart of Job's significant contribution to the canon of Scripture. This New Studies in Biblical Theology volume offers a holistic reading of Job, with particular reference to its depiction of creation and evil, and finds significant clues to its meaning in the striking imagery it uses. Fyall takes seriously the literary and artistic integrity of the book of Job, as well as its theological profundity. He concludes that it is not so much about suffering per se as about creation, providence and knowing God, and how—n the crucible of suffering—these are to be understood. He encourages us to listen to this remarkable literature, to be moved by it, and to see its progress from shrieking protest to repentence and vision. Addressing key issues in biblical theology, the works comprising New Studies in Biblical Theology are creative attempts to help Christians better understand their Bibles. The NSBT series is edited by D. A. Carson, aiming to simultaneously instruct and to edify, to interact with current scholarship and to point the way ahead.

Chapter One

Speaking what is right

A book of sermons by a distinguished biblical scholar and preacher bears the title Trembling at the Threshold of a Biblical Text.1 This is a salutary caution to anyone who tries to expound the ‘living oracles of God’. Few texts are more daunting and yet more fascinating than the book of Job; few have been the subject of such diverse interpretation, and the flood of commentaries and studies continues unabated. Bearing in mind the condemnation of the friends as ‘not speaking what was right’, it is important to approach this great book with humility, realizing that we do not know the answer to many of the problems. Indeed, the mystery of God’s ways and the appalling evil and suffering in the world are at the heart of the book’s massive contribution to the canon.

In this introductory chapter I shall outline the scope of this study; explain my approach; set out the case for the unity of Job; discuss some of the varied readings of the book and reflect on its genre and language.

The scope of this study

It is my aim to give a holistic reading of Job particularly in terms of its depiction of creation and evil. Naturally all the commentaries mention these, but there is a need for a synthesis and fresh treatment of the material and an attempt to assess their importance in the context of the study of the book as a whole. Commentaries diverge sharply in their treatment of these issues and these divergences colour their overall picture of the theology of Job.2 I want to make three observations at this point that I hope will be useful.

The first relates to the importance of the divine speeches (chs. 38 – 41). Here, surely, is the heart of the theology of Job, and it is my conviction that these chapters must control the interpretation of this book. Thus, two chapters (3 and 4) bear particularly on the first divine speech and four chapters (5 – 8) deal with the second divine speech.

Secondly, issues of creation and evil are of enormous importance for Old Testament theology as a whole. Thus, constant comparisons are drawn with a wide range of biblical material.

Thirdly, this study takes seriously the integrity of the whole of Job. Later in this chapter the case for the unity of Job is argued. Particularly important is the connection of the prose and the poetry and thus Job 1 and 2 are frequently referred to and 42:7–17 is analysed in detail.

The approach taken

This is not a full commentary on Job, nevertheless many passages are given very close attention. The argument of this study, that Behemoth is the figure of Death and that Leviathan is a guise of Satan, grows from a translation and exegesis of the relevant passages; likewise the central theme of the divine council includes a translation and commentary on Job 19:22–27. Many other passages, notably chapters 3, 9, 26, 28 and 38 – 39 are given close attention. In particular, I attempt to make sense of the Masoretic text of Job as it stands and to avoid speculative emendations. Close exegesis is the foundation of the study.

However, it is important not simply to explain individual words and phrases, but to be aware of nuance and literary genre and to give full weight to the magnificence of the poetry.3 Thus, much of this study will focus on the imagery of the book.

I will also give a fair amount of attention to the extensive use of Canaanite and other mythical allusions. The use of these is discussed later in this chapter as well as in an appendix on ‘Job and Canaanite myth’.

Is it a unitary work?

The author of Job is totally unknown and no sources have been found. He is mentioned in Ezekiel 14:20 along with Noah and Daniel, which means that this story was known by the early sixth century BC. Many parallels have been adduced with other Ancient Near Eastern texts. These include stories such as the Egyptian ‘Protests of the Eloquent Peasant’; laments such as the Sumerian ‘A Man and his God’; and disputations such as ‘The Babylonian Theodicy’. None of these, however, is particularly close to Job except for rather general similarities of subjects and format.

It is commonly argued that the book is the result of a long process of editorial activity by many people. This is not in itself a view which denies divine inspiration, but it does not seem to make particularly good sense in relation to the canonical book. If the book is the result of a centuries-long redactional process, then we have to try to recover each stage and the slant given to it by different authors; but if the book is the product of one controlling mind, then our task is to try to discover the overall meaning. More especially the question of the relationship of the prologue (chs. 1 – 2) and the epilogue (42:10–17) to the poetic dialogue must be explored.

There are a number of good reasons for seeing these as the product of one mind. The first is structural. Neither the prose nor the poetry can stand on its own. The prologue and epilogue do not constitute a story but only its opening and closing pages. Nor does the poem in all its magnificence stand plausibly on its own. Such volcanic emotions and implied traumas must have some adequate cause.4

There are a number of vital structural connections. The first is the establishment of the two levels on which this story is to operate. There is the sequence of events on earth and there is the reality of the orchestration of these events in the heavenly court. This establishes considerable dramatic irony in that the reader knows, but Job and his friends do not know, what has been happening in the divine council. We shall see that Job, from time to time, glimpses this reality. This ignorance, it will be argued, is no small part of the reason why the friends fail to ‘speak what is right about God’. They have a flat, mechanical interpretation of the earthly events: Job is suffering badly, thus Job must be a particularly bad sinner.

A second structural connection is evident in 42:7–17. Verse 11 speaks of ‘all the trouble the Lord had brought upon him’ which clearly refers to the events of chapters 1 and 2. Yet the failure of the friends to speak what is right must refer to the poetic dialogue as they say nothing in the prologue. Moreover, chapters 1 and 2 and 42:7–17 do not constitute a full story. Something like the present chapters 3 – 42:6 are necessary to complete the picture and to create the magnificent book as we have it.

A second connection of the prose and poetry is thematic. Some commentators argue that the Job of the prologue is a rural figure with flocks and herds grazing over wide spaces (1:14–17), while the Job of the speeches is a city dweller (29:7–11; 31:8–11). But this is to import a rigid distinction between city and country which is anachronistic and only truly emerges historically after the Industrial Revolution. Indeed, one of the features of Job is the creative way in which the author ransacks the whole of human activity for background and illustration.

Moreover, far from there being a contradiction between the patient Job of the prologue and the angry and strident Job of the speeches, both are necessary for a full understanding of Job’s character. Without the prologue, the reader would have no reason to dispute the friends’ increasingly virulent denunciation of Job. Without the speeches, the reader would be tempted to agree with Satan: ‘Does Job fear God for nothing?’ (1:9).

Thirdly, there is a strong theological link between the prose and the poetry. This bears most directly on the subject of this present study. We have already noticed the structural importance of the divine council. Arguably, the divine council (as ch. 2 will demonstrate) is theologically the controlling theme of the book. However, it is the role of Satan which binds the next chapters to the prologue. It will be argued in detail that Satan is unmasked in chapter 41 as Leviathan. A major part of this argument will be that such an identification is prepared for by numerous hints throughout the intervening chapters beginning in chapter 3. In other words, Satan is not simply a minor figure who has a walk-on part in chapters 1 and 2 and then disappears from the action. Rather the battle with evil is a major motif in the book as a whole. Once again the prologue is essential to establish two major truths. The first is that Yahweh is totally supreme; he alone has the power of life and death (2:6: ‘you must spare his life’). The second is that Satan has enormous power and uses it to afflict Job grievously. This is the basis for the immensely powerful exploration of God’s ways and the mysteries of creation and providence which are at the heart of Job.

Varied readings of Job

Unsurprisingly, Job has attracted a plethora of different readings and this continues. Here only a few comments can be made as an introduction to the main body of the study.5 Early studies tended to emphasize the Job of the prose tale and dwell on the long-suffering Job rather than the passionate and angry Job of the speeches. Some scholars, including Dell (1991: 6), trace this emphasis on the patience of Job to James 5:11, but rather ignore 5:11c – ‘and have seen what the Lord finally brought about’. Certainly the image of Job as the ideal and patient sufferer exercised a powerful grip on the imagination of all who wrote on the book.

By the twentieth century interest shifted to the poetic dialogue, and Job the passionate and unorthodox rebel became the focus of attention. Often this was linked with a tendency to dissect the book and see the prose and poetry as coming from different hands at different times. G. von Rad discussed Job and other wisdom literature and saw it, along with Ecclesiastes, as ‘wisdom in revolt’.6 This kind of interest is also reflected in H. G. Wells’ novel, The Undying Fire, in which the owner of a country estate is visited by friends who come to console him over the death of his son in the First World War. Wells’ framework is the dialogue of Job and his friends. This literary interest in the book of Job is evident earlier in Goethe’s use of it in his prologue to Faust and in Blake’s ‘Drawings for the Book of Job’.

More recently, many comparisons have been drawn with Ancient Near Eastern myths, especially the chaos battle-theme. I will be discussing much of this in the following pages and assessing the value of such analogies. The commentary which makes most use of these analogies is that of Pope (1973), followed by the still incomplete philological commentary of Michel (1987). Both of these draw extensively on the work of Mitchell Dahood.

With the growth of interest in ‘reader-response’ criticism and deconstruction, the text of Job has been examined again in many studies. We may note the work of Athalya Brenner, now well known for her feminist readings of Old Testament texts. She argues that the book of Job is a sustained exercise in irony which in fact deconstructs wisdom literature’s basic premise that virtue is rewarded.7

At first sight, Job appears to be a promising text for a ‘reader-response’ critic. It has no clear historical referents; it has no obvious relationship to Israel’s legal and sacrificial system, and its depth and complexity are reflected in the widely varying interpretations already referred to. This non-realist view is the premise of much of the recent work of D. J. A. Clines on the book, especially in his paper ‘Why is there a book of Job, and what does it do to you if you read it?’8 Clines argues that the book is effectively a dream-like fantasy of what would happen to the author were he to lose his vast wealth. However, the author also imagines the overcoming of his death-wish and writes about the restoration of what he had both feared and wished to lose. He further states that the book exhibits inner conflict: affirming that piety does not lead to prosperity and then showing how the pious Job becomes more wealthy than ever. He then goes on to maintain that the book persuades readers that Job had the right to be rewarded, that his wealth was unproblematic, that there is a real objective cause to his suffering and that Job, far from being ‘everyman’, is a totally untypical human being. Clines wants to hold on to the book as great and powerful literature but to avoid readings which will be conditioned by dogma and will thus limit it.

Now if Clines is correct in his reading, many of the studies of Job (including this one) can safely be set aside. Deconstructionist readings, while they may throw some interesting sidelights on texts, are incompatible with hearing the voice of God in Scripture. Three considerations lead to a rejection of Clines’ view of Job.

The first is a literary consideration. Deconstructionist readings claim that they are more sophisticated as readings because they distinguish between what a text apparently says and what it actually says. It is true that Job is a book of immense depth and power, with multiple layers of meaning. However, what Clines perceives as elements which undermine the text are imported by him into the text rather than arising from a reading of the text itself. Thus, the idea that great wealth somehow insulates Job from his calamities ignores the fact that loss of wealth is not raised as an issue in the dialogue. Also, the argument that the epilogue undermines the prologue ignores the fact that renewed prosperity is a gift of grace, not a reward for good conduct, and the reality that Job still needs to live the life of faith. (See further discussion in ch. 9).

The second consideration is theological. God is not carrying out an experiment to see if Job’s piety survives the loss of his prosperity. Clines relates this to God’s lack of knowledge of what will happen and his inner need to know the truth about humankind. But our author is demonstrating exactly the opposite. He insists that suffering and calamity are under God’s sovereignty. This is not a simplistic proposition and the suffering is real. The book abounds with hard questions and much mystery remains. Yet there is never a question that Job will turn away from God. His protests are not those of the atheist but of the baffled believer.

The third is canonical. As will be argued more fully in the fina...