Job rewinds his life back to its beginning: the baby’s first cry, the parents’ joy. If only it never happened!
After seven days of silence, sitting with his friends, Job finally broke the silence. “After this Job opened his mouth and cursed the day of his birth” (Job 3:1). This is not the previous word used for “curse.” Here it is qâlal, meaning to despise, to diminish in value, to hold in contempt. There are three stanzas to his lament, and in all three Death is seen as an absent friend. If only it would show up and do its work! In Section 1, he wishes he had never been born (vv 3-10). In Section 2, he wishes he had died at birth (vv 11-19). In Section 3, he expresses his desire to die now (vv 20-26). But death seems so fickle. Some long for it to come and relieve them of the agonies of life. Others have everything to live for just at the moment when death snatches them away. But as a believer, Job knew that death would be the funeral of all his sins, his afflictions, and his temptations. He also believed that death would be the resurrection of all his hopes and joys. Still, in spite of his longing to bring his pain and heartbreak to an end, he didn’t want to let go of his life until he might find an answer to the deep question of his heart. Why did the God he trusted allow all this calamity to befall him? Says Job, if I cannot be a blessing, let me be a blot (vv 3-5). Turn my birthday from a day of joy to a night of mourning (vv 6-8). In fact, may the day of my birth be like midnight because it looked down on my mother giving birth and did nothing to stop it (vv 9-10). He describes the equality of the grave where kings and commoners sleep together, where the wealth some have amassed means nothing (vv 14-15), where “The small and great are there, and the servant is free from his master” (v 19). But it’s the Son, not death, who makes us free (Jn 8:36)!