Job 3:11 - Meaning and Application

Job seems to look back on his own words, sees the folly of wishing he had never been born, and then tries to soften that mistake with another wish that is little better, that he had died as soon as he was born. He expands on that thought in these verses. When Jesus spoke of a very tragic time, he used words like these, “Blessed are the barren, the wombs that never bore, and the breasts that never nursed” (Luke 23:29). But blessing a barren womb is one thing, and cursing a fruitful womb is another.

It is good to make the best of suffering, but it is wrong to make the worst of God’s gifts. Our rule is, “Bless, and do not curse.” Life often stands for all that is good, and death for all that is evil. Yet Job here speaks very wrongly, as if life and all its supports were a curse and a burden, and as if death and the grave were the greatest and most desirable good.

Satan surely misjudged Job when he used the saying, “All that a man has he will give for his life.” No one seems to have valued life less than Job did here. He first complains bitterly about life itself and is angry that it was not taken from him as soon as it was given. “Why did I not die at birth?” he asks (Job 3:11, Job 3:12).

This shows how weak and helpless human beings are when they enter the world, and how fragile life is at the start. We are almost ready to die as soon as we begin to breathe. Unlike other creatures, we can do nothing for ourselves. We would fall into the grave if our knees did not hold us up. The lamp of life, when first lit, would go out on its own if the breasts, given for us to suck, did not feed it.

It also shows the tender care of God’s providence when we came into the world. We did not die at birth because God kept us alive. Why were we not cut off then? Not because we did not deserve it. Such weeds could justly have been pulled up as soon as they appeared. Such snakes could justly have been crushed in the egg. Nor was it because we could protect ourselves, since no creature comes into the world more helpless than man.

It was not our own strength that kept us alive, but God’s power and care. His pity and patience spared lives that had already been forfeited. It was his care that kept us from dying in the womb. Natural affection in parents is placed there by the God of nature, and so the blessings of the breast follow the blessings of the womb.

This also shows how much emptiness and trouble cling to human life. If we had no God to serve in this world and no better hope in the next, then, considering our minds and the troubles around us, we might be strongly tempted to wish we had died at birth. That would have spared much sin and much misery. He who is born today and dies tomorrow loses a few hours of joy, but many months of sorrow.

It also shows the evil of impatience, irritability, and discontent. When these rule us, they are unreasonable, ungodly, and ungrateful. To give in to them is to treat God’s kindness as though it meant little. No matter how bitter life may become, we must still say, “It was the Lord’s mercy that we did not die at birth, that we were not destroyed.” Hatred of life goes against common sense, against what people normally feel, and against what we ourselves feel at any other time.

Let unhappy people speak against life as much as they want, but they will not want to let go of it when the moment comes. Like the old man in the fable, who was tired of his load, threw it down, and called for Death, only to ask Death for help putting his burden back on, people often discover they do not really want death after all.

Job then speaks warmly, and wrongly, about death and the grave, as if he were in love with them. To long for death so we may be with Christ, free from sin, and clothed with our heavenly home is a mark of grace. But to long for death only because it brings quiet in the grave and relief from life’s troubles is a sign of corruption. What Job says here may help us accept death when it comes and be calm under its hand. But we should not use it as a reason to resent life while God still gives it, or to grow restless under its burdens.

Wisdom and duty both tell us to make the best of whatever state we are in, whether living or dying, and so belong to the Lord in both. Job now complains that, if he had died as soon as he was born and been carried straight from the womb to the grave, his state would have been as good as the best. “I would have been,” he says, “with kings and rulers of the earth” (Job 3:14), whose power, wealth, and plans cannot keep them out of death, out of the grave, or even make their dust different from the dust of others there.

Even princes, with gold in abundance, could not bribe death to pass them by when his command came. Though they filled their houses with silver, they had to leave it all behind and never return to it. Some understand the “desolate places” the kings and rulers built for themselves as their tombs or memorials, like Shebna, who cut out a tomb for himself (Isaiah 22:16). Some also think the gold and silver refer to treasure placed in the graves of great men, which people say was once common.

People have used such methods to keep their dignity, if possible, beyond death and to avoid lying in the grave with those of lower rank. But it does not work. Death is, and always will be, the great leveler. Death mixes scepters with spades. Rich and poor meet together in the grave, and there an untimely birth, a child that never saw the light, or only looked into the world for a moment and then left it, lies as softly, as safely, and as high as kings and rulers with their gold. Job’s meaning is this, “I would rather have lain in the dust there than lie here in the ashes.”

His condition, he says, would have been far better than it was now (Job 3:13). “Then I would have lain down and been quiet,” he means, “but now I cannot. I keep tossing and cannot rest. Then I would have slept, but now sleep leaves my eyes. Then I would have been at peace, but now I am restless.”

Now that the gospel brings life and immortality into much clearer view, Christians can speak more fully about the gain of death. They can say, “Then I would be with the Lord. Then I would see his glory face to face, no longer through a dim mirror.” But Job could only think of rest and quiet in the grave, away from bad news and away from the pain of his sores.

“If I had kept my calm spirit,” Job seems to mean, “the same steady, peaceful frame I had in the last two chapters, fully given over to God’s holy will, I might still be quiet now.” Even with his body in pain, his soul could have stayed calm and at ease (Psalm 25:13). Notice how he describes the rest of the grave. If the soul is also at rest in God, that picture can help us see death in a less fearful way.

Those who are troubled now will be beyond trouble there (Job 3:17). “There the wicked cease from troubling.” When persecutors die, they can no longer persecute. Their hatred and jealousy die with them. Herod, who had troubled the church, became food for worms and then stopped troubling. When the persecuted die, they are also beyond the reach of further pain. If Job had been resting in his grave, the Sabeans and Chaldeans, and all his enemies, would no longer have disturbed him.

Those who are worn out now will there see their toil end. “There the weary are at rest.” Heaven is more than rest for the souls of believers, but the grave is rest for their bodies. Their life in this world is a tiring journey. They are tired of sin and the world. They are tired of their service, their suffering, and even their waiting. But in the grave they rest from all their labor (Revelation 14:13; Isaiah 57:2). There they are at ease and make no complaints. There believers sleep in Jesus.

Those who were enslaved here will there be free. Death is the prisoner’s release, the relief of the oppressed, and the servant’s freedom from slavery (Job 3:18). There the prisoners do not walk around freely, but they rest together and are not forced to work in the prison house. They are no longer insulted, trampled on, threatened, or terrified by cruel taskmasters. “They hear not the voice of the oppressor.” Those who were forced into lifelong service, and who could call nothing their own, not even their own bodies, are there no longer under command or control. “There the servant is free from his master.” That should remind those with power to use it carefully, and those under authority to bear it patiently, for only a little while longer.

Those who were far apart from each other are there on the same level (Job 3:19). The small and the great are there together, equal in death, alike among the dead. The tiring show and honor that follow the great are gone. So are the troubles of poverty and low status. Death and the grave make no distinction.

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