Chapter 7 in Iyov is the direct continuation of the previous chapter. In truth, it is all one long address by Iyov, in which he continues to refute Eliphaz's words. Eliphaz claimed that the Holy One, Blessed is He, brings afflictions upon the righteous to cleanse a minor sin in his possession, so that the righteous person may attain higher spiritual levels and not be punished for his iniquities. Along comes Iyov and says: What you are saying is not correct. And in this chapter, he builds his refutation step by step.
הֲלֹא־צָבָא לֶאֱנוֹשׁ עֲלֵי־אָרֶץ וְכִימֵי שָׂכִיר יָמָיו׃ - Is there not a set time of service for man upon earth, and are not his days like the days of a hired worker?
Iyov agrees with the underlying principle: man was created to attain perfection, and this perfection is the purpose of creation. However, there are two ways to understand what that perfection is - that is, at what point can we say to a person: you have completed your work, you have fulfilled your purpose?
The first possibility: a person must know that all his days he is to serve Hashem, like a servant who serves his master all the days of his life. How much must you do? There is no fixed quota; rather, one must serve without pause. If one accomplished little because his days were cut short - that is his perfection, that was what was required of him. And if he was granted a long life, may he begin to rest? No. Every single moment must be utilized.
The second possibility: perfection depends on a defined task that one must complete. Something akin to fulfilling the 613 mitzvos: you fulfilled the 613 mitzvos - you attained your perfection. You fulfilled a specific mandate, and that is sufficient, whether you lived long years or a short life. According to this view, one who lived a short life and fulfilled them has attained his perfection more than someone who lived long days and did not fulfill them. The first view maintains there is no quota, and all your days you are completing an endless task; the second view maintains there is a defined measure that you must complete.
Regarding the first side, Iyov says: "Is there not a set time of service for man upon earth." If man is like a servant, bound to an endless labor that he will never fully finish, and the only limitation is until he is gathered to his people - meaning not a fixed amount of work, but the length of his life - then man's time is limited. He does not have unlimited time to serve Hashem. And regarding the second side, he says: "And are not his days like the days of a hired worker" - meaning there is a defined task here that must be completed, like a hired laborer, or in today's terms, a contractor. A worker hired to do a specific job: you need to tile this floor. When do I go home? When you finish tiling. This is different from a servant. A servant asks when he can go home, and they tell him: the grave is your only house of refuge; after a hundred and twenty years you will go home. There is nowhere else to go.
כְּעֶבֶד יִשְׁאַף־צֵל וּכְשָׂכִיר יְקַוֶּה פׇעֳלוֹ׃ - Like a servant who longs for the shade, and like a hired worker who looks for his wages.
If man is like a servant, he is released from his labor only when night falls: "Like a servant who longs for the shade" - he constantly longs for night to arrive so that he can go up to his bed. And if he is a hired worker - "and like a hired worker who looks for his wages": when does the worker finish? When he receives his wages. Here we are speaking of a hired worker who is like a contractor, who must complete a specific task, and he looks forward to finishing the job so that he may receive the payment for his labor.
And here lies the crux of Iyov's argument: whether man's ultimate fulfillment depends on time, like the servant, or whether it depends on finishing the task, like the hired worker - when a person suffers affliction, he cannot attain his perfection. If perfection depends on time, and we tell him that all his days he must serve his Creator and thereby achieve his perfection, what happens if one-third of his days are cut short? He will not be able to attain it. And if he is like a hired worker who must complete a task, what happens if his time is stolen from him? Then too, he will not be able to complete it. Under both conceptions, once a portion of his time has been robbed, he can no longer complete his work, for man's work depends on the duration of his lifespan. If twenty years are taken from him - he cannot complete his service of Hashem, and he cannot fulfill the contract he took upon himself.
From here Iyov asks: How can you come and claim that Hashem loves the righteous person, and wants him to rectify through afflictions whatever he failed to perform properly in his divine service? On the contrary, by doing this, Hashem halts my service even further! The moment a year is taken from me - if I am like a slave, I am missing a year from all the days of my life that I was meant to fill with the service of Hashem; and if I am like a hired laborer, I cannot complete the contracted task I undertook. In simple words: How is it possible that you seek to fix what is broken with another flaw?
To what can this be compared? To an employee who was late for work. His boss says to him: "Look what you did! Look at the damage you caused! We have an order, and we are about to lose the entire project because of your tardiness, so I have no choice but to penalize you." And what is the penalty? "Tomorrow you are not coming to work!" Does that make any sense? A monetary fine - understandable. But barring me from coming to work tomorrow? That will only increase the chances that the order will not be completed in time and will be canceled! This is Iyov's claim: You claim that I have a minor deficiency, a slight sin, and because of it Hashem incapacitates me for an extended period. A subtle flaw has generated a massive flaw! For when I am wracked with suffering, can I truly serve Hashem? Are my heart and mind free to pray properly, to serve Hashem properly, to perform chesed properly?
כֵּן הׇנְחַלְתִּי לִי יַרְחֵי־שָׁוְא וְלֵילוֹת עָמָל מִנּוּ־לִי׃ - So have I inherited months of futility, and wearisome nights have been apportioned to me.
Notice the difference between a slave and a hired laborer: The slave, whose work has no set limit, waits for nightfall so he can rest. The hired laborer, whose work has a defined quota, waits for the day to arrive. It can also be phrased in reverse: the contractor is sorry when the sun sets - "Couldn't we stretch the day just a bit longer?" But the slave rejoices at sunset: "Thank God, I am freed from work." The contractor says, "It is a pity that night exists at all; I could have finished the job and not had to return tomorrow." But the slave knows the work is endless - whatever you do not do today will wait for tomorrow, and whatever you do tomorrow will wait for the next day - and therefore he longs for the night so he can go home. It is like the difference between someone who is self-employed and a salaried employee.
Iyov says: "So have I inherited months of futility" - months have become my heritage, months of vanity, and these months have apportioned to me a share of wearisome nights. When a person is in pain, at night through sleep he receives a little respite and finds some relief from his suffering. But in my case, says Iyov, the daytime pain continues into the night, and terrifying nightmares join in as well, brought on by the daytime suffering. Even a slave has a period of rest at night, and the hired laborer looks forward to the day - yet for me, there is neither day nor night.
אִם־שָׁכַבְתִּי וְאָמַרְתִּי מָתַי אָקוּם וּמִדַּד־עָרֶב וְשָׂבַעְתִּי נְדֻדִים עֲדֵי־נָשֶׁף׃ - When I lie down, I say, "When shall I arise and the night be gone?" And I am sated with tossings until dawn.
When I lie down to sleep at the start of the night, I suffer so terribly in my sleep that I say: "When will I finally arise? When will this nightmare end?" And when the evening departs and the morning dawns - "and I am sated with tossings until twilight" - I am sated with suffering until the next evening. This is the reality of "In the morning you will say, 'If only it were evening!' and in the evening you will say, 'If only it were morning!'"
From here Iyov continues: Time is the most essential element for achieving perfection, both for a slave and for a hired laborer, for time is what must be filled. How then can I achieve my perfection when my entire being longs only for time to pass? By day I long for the day to pass and the night to arrive, and at night I long for the night to pass and the morning to arrive.
לָבַשׁ בְּשָׂרִי רִמָּה וְגוּשׁ עָפָר עוֹרִי רָגַע וַיִּמָּאֵס׃ - My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin hardens and festers.
A person has flesh, and upon it, skin. Iyov says: The worms and clods of earth in which I am clothed are not a garment over my skin, but over my flesh, for I no longer have any skin left. From the severity of the boils I have become like a clod of earth, and the worms directly clothe the flesh. "My skin is broken" - raga is related to splitting open, as in "Who cleaves the sea so that its waves roar" (Yeshayahu 51:15), which means splitting the sea; my skin has already split, been eaten away, and become loathsome.
All this serves to sharpen his claim: How do you expect me to attain perfection in such a state? Can a person whose flesh is half consumed achieve his perfection? How is it possible that for a minor flaw, such an immense deficiency should be brought upon me, to the point that whether I am expected to be like a servant or like a hired worker, I certainly cannot serve Hashem in this way?
יָמַי קַלּוּ מִנִּי־אָרֶג וַיִּכְלוּ בְּאֶפֶס תִּקְוָה׃ - My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and they come to an end without hope.
Corresponding to the perfection that depends on time, on the days of one's life, Iyov says: "My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle" (yamai kalu mini areg). In weaving, the warp and the weft are pressed and squeezed against each other, each holding the other in place. After all, the warp and weft are not inherently connected; what binds them is solely the tight compression pressing them together. Just as the threads are drawn swiftly across one another, so too my days rush by, and each coming day negates the one that came before it.
And corresponding to the perfection that depends on the task, where one must complete a specific assignment, he says: "And they come to an end without hope" - I no longer hope for any happiness in these days. If so, how can you come and tell me that this is for the best, that Hashem will do good with me in the end, that He is sending me a bit of suffering only to magnify my ultimate reward? My reality is one in which I anticipate no happiness at all. Instead of a minor lapse in the service of Hashem, the Holy One, blessed be He, as it were, brings upon me profound helplessness and now an utter cessation of service.
In this chapter, Iyov builds his refutation of Eliphaz's words upon a single foundation: A person's attainment of perfection depends on time. Whether a person is like a servant, whose entire life is required for an open-ended labor, or whether he is like a hired laborer and contractor, who is required to finish a defined task - time is the vessel through which purpose is fulfilled. Therefore, when suffering robs a person of his time, his sleep, his physical health, and his presence of mind, it does not purge a deficiency; rather, it creates a far greater deficiency: from a subtle flaw, a gross deficiency is formed. Iyov describes his days and nights as an unbroken chain of suffering without a moment's rest, his body as eaten away, his days as racing past with the speed of weaving - and all of them coming to an end "without hope." Hence his great question: How can a flaw possibly be repaired through further ruination?