of easing his complaint, added to it; for if he dropped asleep, he was disturbed with his frightful dreams, and when those awaked him, still he was haunted with dreadful apparitions. This was it, that made the night so unwelcome and wearisome to him as it was; (v. 4.) When shall I arise? Note, God can, when he pleases, meet us with terror there, where we promise ourselves ease and repose; nay, he can make us a terror to ourselves, and, as we have often contracted guilt, by the rovings of an unsanctified fancy, he can likewise, by the power of our own imagination, create as much grief, and so make that our punishment which has often been our sin. In Job's dreams, though they might partly arise from his distemper, (in fevers, or small-pox, when the body is all over sore, it is common for the sleep to be unquiet,) yet we have reason to think Satan had a hand in them; Satan, who delights to terrify those whom it is out of his reach to destroy; but Job looked up to God, who permitted Satan to do this, (Thou scarest me,) and mistook Satan's representations for the terrors of God setting themselves in array against him. We have reason to pray to God that our dreams may neither defile nor disquiet us, neither tempt us to sin, nor torment us with fear; that He who keeps Israel, and neither slumbers nor sleeps, may keep us when we slumber and sleep; that the Devil may not then do us a mischief, either as an insinuating serpent, or as a roaring lion; and to bless God if we lie down and our sleep is sweet, and we are not thus scared.
2. He covets to rest in his grave, that bed where there are no tossings to and fro, nor any frightful dreams, v. 15, 16. (1.) He was sick of life, and hated the thoughts of it; "I loathe it, I have had enough of it, I would not live alway: not only not live alway in this condition, in pain and misery, but not live alway in the most easy and prosperous condition, to be continually in danger of being thus reduced: my days are vanity at the best, empty of solid comfort, exposed to real griefs; and I would not be for ever tied to such uncertainty." Note, A good man would not (if he might) live always in this world, no, not though it smile upon him, because it is a world of sin and temptation, and he has a better world in prospect. (2.) He was fond of death, and pleased himself with the thoughts of it: his soul (his judgment, he thought, but really it was his passion) chose strangling and death rather; any death rather than such a life as this. Doubtless, this was Job's infirmity; for though a good man would not wish to live alway in this world, and would choose strangling and death rather than sin, as the martyrs did, yet he will be content to live as long as pleases God, not choose them rather than life, because life is our opportunity of glorifying God, and getting ready for heaven.
17. What is man that thou shouldest magnify him? and that thou shouldest set thy heart upon him? 18. And that thou shouldest visit him every morning, and try him every moment? 19. How long wilt thou not depart from me, nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle? 20. I have sinned; what shall I do unto thee, O thou Preserver of men? why hast thou set me as a mark against thee, so that I am a burden to myself? 21. And why dost thou not pardon my transgression, and take away mine iniquity? for now shall I sleep in the dust; and thou shalt seek me in the morning, but I shall not be.
Job here reasons with God,
I. Concerning his dealings with man in general; (v. 17, 18.) What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him? This may be looked upon either, 1. As a passionate reflection upon the proceedings of divine justice; as if the great God did diminish and disparage himself, in contending with man. Great men think it below them to take cognizance of those who are much their inferiors, so far as to reprove and correct their follies and indecencies; why then does God magnify man, by visiting him, and trying him, and making so much ado about him? Why will he thus pour all his forces upon one that is such an unequal match for him? Why will he visit him with afflictions, which, like a quotidian ague, return as duly and constantly as the morning-light, and try, every moment, what he can bear? We mistake God, and the nature of his providence, if we think it any lessening to him, to take notice of the meanest of his creatures. Or, 2. As a pious admiration of the condescensions of divine grace, like that, Ps. viii. 4.—cxliv. 3. He owns God's favour to man in general, even then when he complains of his own particular troubles. "What is man, miserable man, a poor, mean, weak creature, that Thou, the great and glorious God, shouldest deal with him as thou dost? What is man," (1.) "That thou shouldest put such honour upon him; shouldest magnify him, by taking him into covenant and communion with thyself?" (2.) "That thou shouldest concern thyself so much about him, shouldest set thy heart upon him, as dear to thee, and one thou hast a kindness for?" (3.) "That thou shouldest visit him with thy compassions every morning, as we daily visit a particular friend, or as the physician visits his patients every morning, to help them?" (4.) "That thou shouldest try him, shouldest feel his pulse, and observe his looks, every moment, as in care about him, and jealous over him?" That such a worm of the earth as man is, should be the darling and favourite of Heaven, is what we have reason for ever to admire.
II. Concerning his dealings with him in particular. Observe,
1. The complaint he makes of his afflictions, which he here aggravates, and (as we are all too apt to do) makes the worst of, in three expressions. (1.) That he was the butt to God's arrows; "Thou hast set me as a mark against thee," v. 20. "My case is singular, and none is shot at so as I am." (2.) That he was a burthen to himself, ready to sink under the load of his own life. How much delight soever we take in ourselves, God can, when he pleases, make us burthens to ourselves. What comfort can we take in ourselves, if God appear against us as an Enemy, and we have not comfort in him? (3.) That he had no intermission of his griefs; (v. 19.) "How long will it be ere thou cause thy rod to depart from me, Or abate the rigour of the correction, at least, for so long as that I may swallow down my spittle?" It should seem, Job's distemper lay much in his throat, and almost choked him, so that he could not swallow his spittle. He complains, (ch. xxx. 18.) that it bound him about like the collar of his coat. "Lord," says he, "wilt not thou give me some respite, some breathing time?" ch. ix. 18.
2. The concern he is in about his sins. The best men have sin to complain of, and the better they are, the more they will complain of it.
(1.) He ingenuously owns himself guilty before God; I have sinned. God had said of him, that he
