Maimonides, Spinoza and the Book of Job[1]

 

            I invite you to reflect with me on the meaning of the Book of Job and of Maimonides' comments on it in the Guide of the Perplexed.  This exercise in interpretation offers the pleasures inherent in any attempt to decipher a difficult text, a pleasure doubled here by the fact that we have two difficult texts. Maimonides' discussion of Job is at least as puzzling as the work it analyzes. 

            But philosophers have a special reason to try to solve the puzzle of these texts. They treat, in an uncompromising way, a difficulty for theism which, as Hobbes remarked, has shaken the faith, not only of ordinary people, but also of philosophers, and even of the saints themselves: why do bad things happen to good people?  This is clearly one of the main perplexities Maimonides hopes to resolve in the Guide. 

            Those are no doubt reasons enough to do what we are about to do.  But students of Spinoza have a further motive for pursuing this inquiry.  It appears that the main reason Spinoza turned to philosophy, and to the new philosophy of Descartes, was that he was disillusioned with the theology they taught in the synagogue.[2]  It appears also that his Theological-Political Treatise (TTP), though published only in 1670, recapitulates the essence of the lost defense of his opinions which Spinoza wrote when he was excommunicated fourteen years earlier.[3]  Since Maimonides is very much under attack in the TTP, it seems fair to regard him as a prime example of the kind of theology Spinoza was rebelling against in 1656.  And though Spinoza has very little to say explicitly in the TTP about Maimonides' interpretation of Job, it seems likely that in reflecting on Job and on Maimonides' analysis of Job we will be engaging in the kind of reflection Spinoza went through at a critical stage of his development.  At least I hope you will find that conjecture plausible by the time we finish.

                                                              * * *

            Let's begin by recalling the broad outlines of the story.  We can divide Job, the book, into three main parts:

            1) a prose prologue, consisting of two chapters;

            2) a poetic dialogue, running from the beginning of Chapter 3 through verse 6 of Chapter 42, and so constituting by far the greatest part of the story; and

            3) a prose epilogue, consisting of the remaining 11 verses of Chapter 42. 

It's also natural to subdivide that long second part into three parts of its own:

            2a) the dialogue between Job, Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar in Chapters 3-31;

            2b) the intervention of Elihu, in Chapters 32-37; and

            2c) God's address to Job from the whirlwind, in Chapters 38-42:6,

making a total of five parts in all.

            The prose prologue characterizes the hero of the story as a man "blameless and upright"[4] who lived and prospered in the land of Uz.  The prologue then shifts to a scene in heaven, where the Satan[5] appears before Yahweh, who asks him what he has been doing.  The Satan replies that he has been roaming the earth.  Yahweh says to the Satan:

            Have you marked my servant, Job?  There is none like him on earth, a blameless and upright man, who fears God and shuns evil. (1:8)

To this the Satan replies;

            Does Job fear God for nought?  Have you not hedged him round, him and his household and everything he has? His efforts you have blessed, and his property has increased in the land.  Just reach out and strike what he has, and he will curse you to your face. (1:9-11)

Yahweh takes up the challenge, giving the Satan permission to afflict Job with various evils, so long as he does not touch Job's person.  So the Satan destroys Job's livestock, and his servants, and his children.  But Job accepts these afflictions and refuses to curse God:

            Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked shall I return there; Yahweh gave, and Yahweh took away; blessed be Yahweh's name. (1:21)

The same scenario is then repeated, except that in the second dialogue with the Satan Yahweh gives him permission to touch Job's person, so long as he spares Job's life.  The Satan then inflicts "loathsome sores on Job from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head." (NRSV 2:7)  But still Job remains faithful to Yahweh.  His wife says to him:

            Do you still maintain your integrity?  Curse God and die. (2:9)

To which Job replies:

            You talk like a foolish woman.  Shall we accept good from God and not accept evil? (2:10)

Then three friends come to comfort him, Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar.  They sit with him on the ground for seven days and seven nights, and no one speaks, "for they [see] that his anguish [is] very great." (2:13)

            At this point there is an abrupt shift, both in literary style and in content.  The characters begin to speak in poetry.  Job, whose conduct up to this point has justified traditional talk about his patience, now curses the day he was born.  His friends, often called his comforters, begin now to blame the victim: he should not complain; he must have sinned in some way, or he would not be so afflicted, since God is just.  Job defends his innocence and demands to be told his fault.  He can no longer calmly accept his afflictions.  This kind of dialogue runs from Chapter 3 to the end of Chapter 31, and constitutes the first of three subdivisions in the poetic dialogue.

            In Chapter 32 a new character appears, Elihu, a young man who criticizes the friends for failing to confute Job, and undertakes to do so himself.  Whether he has anything to add to what they have said, or whether there are any interesting differences among the three friends,[6] are questions we must defer until later.  Elihu goes on for six chapters, without any response from Job.  This is the second subdivision of the poem.

            Then Yahweh speaks to Job out of a whirlwind, in a long series of rhetorical questions:

            Who is this that obscures counsel with words void of knowledge?

            Gird your loins like a hero, I will question you and you tell me.

            Where were you when I founded the earth?  Tell me if you know so much.  (38:2-4)

The poem continues in this vein for four chapters; they do not to respond directly to Job's challenge by identifying his sin, but emphasize God's power and knowledge, contrasting it with Job's weakness and ignorance.  The poetic section then concludes with Job submitting once again to Yahweh:

            I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted...

            I talked of things I did not know, wonders beyond my ken...

            I had heard of you by hearsay, but now my own eye has seen you;

            So I recant[7] and repent in dust and ashes. (42:2-6)

Here the poetic portion of the book ends, and Yahweh, in prose, chastises Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar for not speaking the truth about him, as Job did. (42:7)  He does not mention Elihu, but then Elihu is not mentioned anywhere in the book outside those six chapters where he speaks.  Nor is there at the end of the work any reference to the Satan or his challenge.  God simply restores Job's fortunes, giving him twice as much as he had before.[8]  The final word is that Job continued to live for another 140 years, and saw his children, and his children's children, "to four generations," until he finally died, "old and satisfied with life." (42:17)

            If you have a fresh memory of this book, you will know that in retelling this story I have left out much interesting detail.  My aim has been to set the stage for philosophical discussion and interpretation, without, so far as possible, prejudging the questions the narrative may occasion.  I have alluded to certain oddities in the story - the differences in perspective between the prose and poetic parts of the story, the mysterious appearance and disappearance of Elihu late in the poetic dialogue, the absence of the Satan at the end.  Such puzzles may make a modern reader suspect multiple authorship.  But Maimonides seems not to consider that possibility, and for now I shall follow his example.

                                                              * * *

            Maimonides' discussion of Job is contained in two chapters of the Guide,[9] III, 22 & 23. Before analyzing it, however, we need to look first at III, 17.  The discussion of Job occurs in the context of a general discussion of the problem of providence.  In III, 17, Maimonides says that there are, all told, five kinds of opinion people have about providence, all of which are "ancient," in the sense that they have all been around since the time of the prophets (p. 464/282).  When he comes later to the book of Job, he will identify Job, Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar with one or another of these five opinions, each with a different one.  So we need to lay out these various possibilities.

            The first opinion, which Maimonides identifies as being that of Epicurus, is that

            there is no providence at all... that everything [both in the heavens and in the sublunary world] happens by chance and in accordance with the way things were predisposed; there is no one who orders, governs, or is concerned with anything. (p. 464/282)

This is the one opinion Maimonides does not identify with any participant in the dialogue of the book of Job;[10] it is also the one opinion he says definitively is "inadmissible," since Aristotle has demonstrated that "it cannot be true that all things should have been generated by chance; and that, on the contrary, there is someone who orders and governs them."

            Students of Aristotle may protest at the idea of finding a defense of divine providence in his works.[11] After all, they may say, the God of Book Lambda of the Metaphysics is thought thinking about itself and only about itself (1074b15-34).  So it cannot order and govern all things.  Later we will find Spinoza complaining that Maimonides reads Greek philosophy into Scripture; here we might rather complain that he reads Scripture into Greek philosophy.

            In a way Maimonides addresses this objection when he goes on to describe the position he ascribes to Aristotle, the second of the five opinions he discusses in III, 17.  On this view God does not watch over everything, but only over certain things.  His concern for individuals extends only as far as the realm of the spheres; in the sublunary world he is concerned only with species, not with individuals.  It appears that Maimonides owes this reading of Aristotle to a treatise by Alexander of Aphrodisias On Providence, written originally in Greek and surviving only in an Arabic translation.[12]  Maimonides apparently thinks Aristotle held this view because he observed order at the level of individuals only in the realm of the spheres, and only at the level of species in the sublunary world.  "Order" here seems to mean continuous subsistence without any corruption or change. (III, 17, p. 466/283)  What happens to individuals in the sublunary realm, on this reading of Aristotle, is to be ascribed to chance,[13] not to the governance of one who governs.

            The next two opinions Maimonides discusses he associates with two schools of Islamic theologians, the Ash`arites and the Mu`tazilites.  The Ash`arites react strongly against the idea that anything might happen by chance.  Everything that happens happens through the will of God.  They interpret this dictum in a way which entails a denial of the effectiveness of finite causes.  "It is not the wind which causes the leaves to fall, for every leaf falls through an ordinance and a decree of God." (p. 467/283)  On the Ash`arite view

            if we see that an excellent man who was devoted to God's worship has been killed through torture, we should say: He [i.e., God] has willed this.  And in this there is no injustice, for according to them, it is permissible for God to punish one who has not sinned and to reward a sinner with benefits. (p. 467/284)

The permissibility of God's punishing the innocent (like their denial of the effectiveness of finite causes) stems from the Ash`arite conviction that anything else would be incompatible with God's omnipotence.  That is to say, if a finite cause were to be truly effective, or if God were to be bound by justice to reward the virtuous and punish the ungodly, that would imply that God's power was not absolute.  The Ash`arites were voluntarists about right and wrong, who held that sin consists in disobedience to the will of God, with the consequence that it is impossible for God's acts to be unjust, regardless of what their specific nature is.[14]

            Maimonides does not reject the Ash`arite view as unequivocally as he rejects Epicureanism.  He does not say it has been demonstrated to be false.  But he does say that it involves "great incongruities,"[15] which constitute a burden for the people who accept it.  One incongruity is a point on which they agree with Aristotle: that there is an equality between the fall of a leaf and the death of a human individual. (p. 466/283) Of course they understand that equality differently than Aristotle does.  For them both events happen as a result of the will of God.  For Aristotle (as interpreted by Maimonides) both happen by chance.  Maimonides rejects the equality.  He finds it repugnant to say that there is no difference between the fall of a leaf and the death of a human individual or between a spider's devouring a fly and a ravenous lion's devouring a prophet.  Other incongruities in the Ash`arite position are that they deny free will and contingency, and that their position entails that the Law is "quite useless," since the man to whom it is addressed lacks the ability either to do or not to do what it commands or forbids. (p. 467/284)

            The fourth opinion Maimonides discusses he identifies with the Mu`tazilites, who hold that man does have free will (in the sense of an ability to act of his own accord), and that the commandments and prohibitions, rewards and punishments, of the Law are "well ordered." (p. 467/284)  All God's actions follow from his wisdom, injustice is not permissible to him, and he does not punish a man who does good.  So far, you might think, this is a position congenial to that of Scripture, and indeed the Mu`tazilite view is also represented within Jewish thought, as Maimonides is aware.[16]

            But the Mu`tazilites also hold (with the Ash`arites) that God has knowledge of everything which happens to individuals, both in the human realm and in the non-human.  God knows "the falling of this particular leaf and... the creeping of this particular ant, and... His providence watches over all the beings." (p. 468/284) The Mu`tazilites do, it seems, allow, as consistent with God's justice, that a person might be born with an infirmity without having sinned or that an excellent man might perish.  This happens, they say, not as punishment, but as a benefit, though we may not be able to understand what the benefit consists in.  In the case of the excellent man who perishes, it is presumably that he may have a greater reward in the life to come.  In the case of the man born with the infirmity, it is apparently that it is better for this individual to be infirm than for him to be sound in body, though we may not be able to understand why. 

            One thing Maimonides finds particularly objectionable in the Mu`tazilite view is that they extend divine providence even to animals other than man.  So if a mouse, which has not sinned, is devoured by a cat, this is because God's wisdom has required it, and the mouse "will receive compensation in the other world for what has happened to it."  Still more serious, however, is the charge of self-contradiction.  To hold both that God knows everything and that man has the ability to act, Maimonides claims, leads to self-contradiction, "as the slightest reflection should make clear." (p. 469/285)

            The fifth opinion, that of the Law of Moses, is that man has an absolute ability to act, and indeed, that all species of animals move in virtue of their own will.  It is also a principle of the Law that God cannot be unjust, where this is held to entail that the benefits and calamities which come to men are deserved, though we may be ignorant of the way in which they are deserved.  I'll call this, for short, the Mosaic position.  It is also, apparently, the Maimonidean position, though we will subsequently encounter some grounds for doubting whether or not we should ascribe it to him.

            Maimonides does not claim that he has demonstrative knowledge that the Mosaic position is correct. (p. 471/286) He accepts it, he says, because this clearly appears to be the teaching of Scripture.  And sometimes his acceptance sounds grudging, as when he says that the Mosaic position is "less disgraceful than the preceding opinions and nearer than they to intellectual reasoning."[17]

            One reason for preferring the Mosaic position to the others, apparently, is that, as Maimonides interprets the teaching of the Law, the doctrine of a divine providence coordinating good and evil with desert applies at the level of individuals only to humans.  Regarding members of other species in the sublunary realm, Aristotle is right and the Law agrees with Aristotle.  It is not the case that "this particular leaf has fallen because of a providence watching over it; nor that this spider has devoured this fly because God has now decreed and willed something concerning individuals."  Maimonides says that he

            was impelled to adopt this belief by the fact that I never found in the book of a prophet a text mentioning that God has a providence watching over one of the animal individuals, but only over a human individual.  The prophets are even sometimes astonished because providence watches over human individuals - man being too insignificant for providence to watch over him...[18]

So he will cite, among other verses, one from Elihu in Job:

            For his eyes are on man's conduct,

            He sees his every step,[19]

but also the familiar question of the Psalmist:

            What is man that thou art mindful of him?[20]

The idea is that, since humans barely qualify as objects of God's concern, non-human individuals certainly will not qualify.  Maimonides dismisses scriptural texts which might suggest a divine providence extending even to the animals, e.g.,

            He gives to the animals their food,

            and to the young ravens when they cry (Psalms 147:9)

These show only a concern for species, not one for individuals. 

            The argument that God's providence does not extend to individual members of non-human species is essentially an argument from silence.  But it does help to explain why Scripture permits us to kill animals and use them for our own ends, and I do not find this limitation of God's providence to human individuals outlandish as a reading of Scripture. (pp. 472-473/287)

            Toward the end of III, 17, however, Maimonides suggests, apparently as a further specification of the Mosaic position,[21] an additional limitation on God's providence.  On this view, God's providence is selective even within the human species; God is more concerned with the welfare of the wise than with that of the ignorant:

            I believe that providence is consequent upon the intellect and attached to it.  For providence can only come from an intelligent being, from One who is an intellect perfect with a supreme perfection... Accordingly everyone with whom something of this overflow is united will be reached by providence to the extent to which he is reached by the intellect. (p. 474/288)

I take this to mean that God will have some concern for every human being who achieves some measure of participation in the overflow (or emanation) from the divine intellect, but that God's concern will be less for those whose degree of participation is less, and non-existent for those who do not participate at all.[22]  I take it that participation to any degree requires some knowledge of God, and that rationality alone is not sufficient.[23]  The ignorant cannot expect a nice correlation of benefits and calamities to desert; the wise can.  I propose to call this "the intellectualist position," since it seems, prima facie, to be a view distinct from the Mosaic position.  Though Maimonides apparently regards what I am calling the intellectualist position as the proper way to understand the Mosaic position, I find his arguments to that effect perfunctory and unconvincing.[24]

            The intellectualist position has a fair claim to being Maimonides' final word on the general subject of divine providence, and knowledgeable interpreters of Maimonides often take it to be just that.[25]  I would like, for the time being, to leave open the following questions:

            i) Whether the intellectualist position is, in fact, Maimonides' final word on the issue of providence?

            ii) Whether Maimonides honestly believes that the intellectualist position is the proper way to understand the Mosaic position? and

            iii) Whether there is any plausibility at all in regarding the intellectualist position as being, in fact, a legitimate way of understanding Scripture?

If the answer to the first two of these questions is "yes," and the answer to the last question is "no," then that would be a confirmation of Spinoza's general criticism of Maimonides as a Hellenizer of Scripture.  Whether or not the intellectualist position is one we can really describe as a Platonic or Aristotelian speculation, the preference it gives to intellectual excellence over moral excellence does seem more Hellenic than Hebraic in spirit.[26]  But since the answer to the third question seems to me clearly to be "no," I hesitate to answer "yes" to the second.  And I also have doubts about the right way to answer the first.  Some of my reasons will emerge from our consideration of what Maimonides has to say about Job, but I can indicate one reason now.

            Much earlier in the Guide, in I, 72, Maimonides had made a preliminary, and rather skeptical declaration on the subject of providence:

            The governance and the providence of Him, may He be exalted, accompany the world as a whole in such a way that the manner and true reality of this accompaniment are hidden from us: the faculties of human beings are inadequate to understand this.  On the one hand, there is a demonstration of His separateness, may He be exalted, from the world and of His being free from it; and on the other, there is a demonstration that the influence of His governance and providence in every part of the world, however small and contemptible, exists. (p. 193/119)

Here we have Maimonides the precursor of Kant, denying knowledge in order to make room for faith.[27]  Except, of course, that when Kant claims that the exercise of pure reason leads to antinomies, he actually gives you what purport to be demonstrations of the contradictory propositions, whereas Maimonides merely claims that the demonstrations are available, and leaves it as an exercise for the reader to find them.

            When Maimonides comes back to the discussion of providence in III, 17, he makes no mention of this earlier skeptical view and it is a fair question how the two parts of the Guide are supposed to be related.  Here is one possible answer: in the earlier passage, when Maimonides claims that God is demonstrably separate from the world, he is claiming the demonstrability of either the Epicurean view or the Aristotelian view (Epicureanism if we take "the world" to refer to the whole of the physical universe, Aristotelianism if we take it to refer only to the sublunary realm); when he claims that God's providence demonstrably extends to every part of the world, he is claiming the demonstrability of either the Ash`arite or the Mu`tazilite view (since the universality of God's providence is common to both positions and they disagree only about how to reconcile this with God's justice).  If the first demonstration is sound, it presumably destroys both the Ash`arite and Mu`tazilite positions (since it proves the falsity of their common element).  If the second demonstration is sound, it presumably destroys the Epicurean and Aristotelian positions (since its conclusion is inconsistent with the weaker Aristotelian position, a fortiori it destroys the Epicurean view).  The mutual destruction of these views leaves the field clear for Maimonides to affirm the Mosaic position on grounds of faith.

            I say that's a possible answer, in the sense that I can imagine someone saying that.  But I don't think it's a very satisfactory answer.  After all, the Mosaic position, insofar as it affirms the compromise view that God's providence extends only to part of the world and not to all, is inconsistent with the conclusions of each of the alleged demonstrations.  So you might better say: if either of these demonstrations actually works, then the Mosaic position must be false; and given Maimonides' view that we must interpret scripture in such a way that it is consistent with what philosophy can demonstrate (Guide II, 25, pp. 327-329/199-200), then if either of the demonstrations works, any scriptural passage we might appeal to as prima facie supporting the Mosaic position would have to be interpreted so as not to actually support it.  Faith is deprived of its basis.  Before we ever enter into the interpretation of Job, we have reason to find Maimonides' position highly problematic.

 

                                                              * * *

 

            The intellectualist position appears to offer the following simple solution to the problem of undeserved suffering: if a person is morally virtuous, but lacking in intellectual excellence, he cannot expect his well-being to be proportioned to his moral virtue.  God does not care that much about moral virtue; what he values is intellectual excellence.  This somewhat brutal way of stating the position will make it clear, I hope, why I find it unattractive philosophically, and hence, why I need some persuading that it is Maimonides' "final solution" to the problem of people like Job. 

            Of course, if Maimonides held that moral and intellectual virtue were necessarily connected, so that you could not have either one without the other, the notion that providence is proportionate to intellectual excellence would be less problematic.  Sometimes Maimonides does seem to hold that there is such a connection between moral virtue and intellectual excellence.[28]  But if this is his considered view, then it excludes the possibility of dealing with Job in the way he seems to want to in III, 22:

            The most marvellous and extraordinary thing about this story is the fact that knowledge is not attributed in it to Job.  He is not said to be a wise or a comprehending or an intelligent man.  Only moral virtue and righteousness in action are ascribed to him.  For if he had been wise, his situation would not have been obscure for him...[29]

Job's problem, it appears, is that he is one of those "ignoramuses who observe the commandments,"[30] i.e., someone who is scrupulous in his observance of the Law (1:5), but whose belief in God is based only on hearsay, not on philosophical argument (42:5).  Such people are too remote from God to merit his consistent concern for their well-being.

            One thing to note about this passage, though, is the concluding counterfactual.  Maimonides does not say that if Job had been wise, his situation would have been different (i.e., he would not have suffered the calamities he did).  He merely claims that Job would have understood his situation (i.e., presumably, he would have understood why he suffered those calamities).  So this passage does not represent a straightforward application of the intellectualist theory of providence to the case of Job.

            To understand what is going on in Maimonides' discussion of Job, I think we need first to ask ourselves why it is divided into two chapters.  Does this merely reflect Maimonides' preference for keeping his chapters relatively short, or is there some deeper rationale for the division of the material?

 

                                                              * * *

 

            Maimonides begins the first of his chapters on Job by claiming that the story "is a parable intended to set forth the opinions of people concerning providence."  In support of this Maimonides cites the opinion of "some of [the Sages]," i.e., the wise men of the Talmud, who have said that "Job never existed."  He is careful to note that other sages believe Job did exist, and that the story told of him did happen, though they differ as to when and where these events occurred, whether it was in the days of the patriarchs, or in those of Moses, or in those of David, or in the post-exilic period.  Maimonides seems to think this disagreement about the time and place confirms the view of those who hold the story to be a parable.

            What is at stake in this dispute?  I take it that the issue is how much of the story we should believe to be true. Maimonides writes that whether Job ever existed or not, "cases like his... always exist,"[31] and that they cause "all reflecting people" to become perplexed and to turn to one or another of the five opinions about providence. (p. 486/296)  Someone who holds the story to be a parable will hold that only the most general features of the story are descriptive of any sequence of events which ever occurred.  Suppose we rewrote the story, stripping it of all proper names:

            Once upon a time there was a man, who was blameless and upright, and who prospered for a long time.  Then one day calamity befell him, without there being any evident reason why he should deserve to suffer...

This would be sufficient to generate perplexity in anyone who believes in God, who believes that God is aware of what happens to individuals in the world, and who believes that God has the power and the disposition at least to intervene in those happenings, to prevent bad things from happening to good people.

            Maimonides writes that even those who believe that Job really existed take certain aspects of the prose prologue to be a parable.  He mentions specifically, "the discourse of Satan, that of God addressed to Satan, and the giving-over [of Job to Satan]."  Anyone "endowed with intellect" recognizes that that part of the story is a parable, though Maimonides remarks that

            it is not a parable like all others, but one to which extraordinary notions and things that are the mystery of the universe are attached.  Through it great enigmas are solved, and truths than which none is higher become clear.[32]

In the remainder of this chapter Maimonides focuses primarily on the role of Satan in the story, whom he takes to be (or at least to be presented in the Book of Job as) the cause of Job's misfortunes. (p. 487/297)  The picture he presents of Satan is one modern scholarship would reject as anachronistic: Satan[33] is not a member of God's court carrying out one of its functions, but an adversary of God's, who leads men astray.[34] 

            At the end of III, 22, Maimonides comments, astonishingly, that he has "analyzed and explained the story of Job up to its ultimate end and conclusion."[35]  But he has not, at this point, said anything at all about the dialogue between Job and his friends, or God's answer to Job, or Job's final submission to God, or the restoration of Job's prosperity.  Those subjects Maimonides reserves for the following chapter:

            I want, however, to explain to you the opinion ascribed to Job and the opinion ascribed to each of his friends, using proofs that I gleaned from the discourse of each of them.  You should not, however, pay attention to the other dicta rendered necessary by the order of the discourse, as I explained to you in the beginning of this Treatise. (p. 490/299)

This last appears to be a warning that what is to follow may contain certain contradictions, and hence encourages a Straussian reading of the text.[36]

 

                                                              * * *

 

            III, 23, proceeds on the assumption that the story is not a parable: "if it is supposed that the story of Job happened..." And it seems to take the notion that the story happened in a stronger sense than had been allowed before.  Previously we were told that even those who believed that Job existed (i.e., who thought the story was not a parable) rejected as a literary fiction the prologue's depiction of God as wagering with the Satan on Job's integrity and giving the Satan permission to afflict him.  Now one consequence of taking the story not to be a parable is that God is understood to be the cause of Job's misfortunes:

            ... the first thing that occurred was a matter on which there was general agreement between [sic] the five [Job, Eliphaz, Bildad, Zophar and Elihu], namely, that everything that had befallen Job was known to Him, may He be exalted, and that God caused these misfortunes to befall him. (p. 490/299)

This is indeed a point on which Job and his four friends agree.  It is also a point the Biblical narrative endorses.  After the first round of calamities God points out to the Satan that Job

            still holds fast to his integrity, though you incited me against him, to destroy him without cause. (2:3)

The Satan may have instigated Job's destruction and been its proximate cause, but God accepts responsibility for it as well.[37] 

            I observe further that the intellectualist solution to the problem of undeserved suffering will apparently not work on this hypothesis.  I.e., if God caused Job's misfortunes, then we cannot explain them by saying that God concerns himself consistently only with the wise and leaves the ignorant largely to chance.  That, I take it, is why the remark about Job's possessing moral virtue, but not intellectual excellence, occurs in III, 22, not III, 23.  It would be inconsistent with the hypothesis under which III, 23, is conducted.

            The rest of III, 23, consists in a discussion of the various participants in the dialogue, most of whom are identified with one or another of the five positions on providence which Maimonides had described in III, 17.  Maimonides acknowledges that there is a good deal of repetition in the dialogue and that it may seem hard to distinguish the participants' perspectives.[38]  But he insists that it is possible.  The remainder of the first paragraph describes Job's position in the dialogue: that he is righteous, that he has suffered terribly, and that his fate shows that God treats the righteous and the wicked equally, because he has contempt for the human species and has abandoned it.  There follow three paragraphs describing, respectively, the positions of Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar.  These three all agree that (in the end, at least) God rewards the righteous and punishes the wicked, but Maimonides undertakes to find differences between them.  In ¶5 he claims that Job's position is the Aristotelian one, Eliphaz's the Mosaic position, Bildad's the Mu`tazilite position, and Zophar's the Ash`arite position.  Then comes a long paragraph dealing with Elihu, in which Maimonides argues that, though he may seem merely to repeat the views of the other three friends (of whom he is highly critical for their failure to confute Job), he does add one new idea: that Job may hope for an angel to intercede on his behalf.  The chapter concludes with a paragraph on God's answer from the whirlwind.

            These various identifications are extremely interesting.  To say that Eliphaz represents the teaching of the Law is neither surprising nor problematic.  To say that Bildad is a Mu`tazilite may be slightly surprising, but is supported with plausible scriptural evidence.[39]  The claim that Zophar is an Ash`arite seems much more difficult to make out. 

            Prima facie Maimonides' identification of Zophar as an Ash`arite is inconsistent with the previous assertion (p. 491/299) that all three of the friends agree that people suffer if and only if they have sinned.  The scriptural evidence Maimonides offers in support of his new view might more aptly be taken as evidence for the old.  He cites the following passage:

            11:5 [Would] that God would speak, and open His lips against thee;

            11:6 And that He would tell thee the secrets of wisdom, that they may teach thee doubly...

            11:7 Canst thou by searching find out God?  Canst thou find out the Almighty unto perfection?

What Zophar says here, essentially, is that man cannot understand why God does what he does.  But this is an idea more characteristic of the Mu`tazilite and Mosaic positions than it is of the Ash`arite view.  Insofar as Zophar suggests that God has a reason for afflicting Job, which Job might understand if only God would reveal it, he denies that God might afflict Job without cause.  Note also that Maimonides omits that part of 11:6 in which Zophar says that God exacts of Job "less than thine iniquity deserveth."  On this evidence, Maimonides has no case that Zophar is an Ash`arite.  Moreover, there is a more plausible candidate for representing the Ash`arite position in God himself.  At any rate, that is one natural way of reading God's answer to Job in chapters 38-41.[40]  More of this anon.

            The most interesting case, though, is that of Job.  Absolutely nothing is said to show that Job is an Aristotelian in the sense of holding that God exercises a providence over individuals among the spheres and over species in the sublunary world.  Prima facie, the only sense in which it can be said that Job is an Aristotelian, on the evidence presented in the paragraph describing his views, is that he denies that God has any concern to adjust welfare to desert among individuals in the sublunary realm.  And, of course, that's a point of agreement between Aristotle and the Epicureans.  So we might just as well say that Job is an Epicurean.

            That would not be a nice thing to have to do.  Job, after all, is not merely a character in a dialogue, whose views need not be ascribed to the author of the dialogue.  He is a character whose views are pronounced by God himself, at the end of the dialogue, to be correct.  Immediately after Job repents, God turns to Eliphaz and rebukes him:

            My anger burns against you and your two friends; for you have not spoken the truth of me, as did Job, my servant. (42:7, repeated with some variation in 42:8)

To his credit Maimonides faces this problem squarely.  After citing the passage just quoted, Maimonides reports that

            the Sages, in order to find an excuse for it, say A man is not to be blamed for [what he does when] suffering, meaning that he has to be excused because of his great suffering. (p. 492/300)

Maimonides observes that "this kind of speech does not accord with the parable." I think we may agree that the Sages' solution is inadequate.  Job's suffering may excuse his Epicureanism, but praising him for speaking the truth goes beyond mere excuse, and Job's suffering gives God no reason to fault Eliphaz and his friends for defending the idea that God afflicts only those who deserve it.

            Maimonides' solution to the problem of God's praise of Job is that by the end of the dialogue Job had given up his mistaken views and had demonstrated that they were mistaken:

            This view [viz., that God treats the righteous and the wicked equally, because he has contempt for the human species and has abandoned it] was such as arises at the first reflection... especially in the case of one whom misfortunes have befallen, while he knows of himself that he has not sinned... For this reason this opinion is ascribed to Job.  However, the latter said all that he did say as long as he had no true knowledge and knew the deity only because of his acceptance of authority, just as the multitude adhering to a Law know it.  But when he knew God with a certain knowledge, he admitted that true happiness, which is the knowledge of the deity, is guaranteed to all who know Him and that a human being cannot be troubled in it by any or all the misfortunes in question.  While he had known God only through the traditional stories and not by way of speculation Job had imagined that the things thought to be happiness, such as health, wealth and children, are the ultimate goal.  For this reason he fell into such perplexity and said such things as he did... (pp. 492-93/300-301)

So the opinion of Job which God approves is not the Epicurean opinion he had expressed through most of the dialogue, but an insight he comes to only after God has appeared to him, when he realizes that what he had taken to be evils befalling him were not really evils, not, at any rate, by comparison with the good he was finally granted.  In support of this Maimonides quotes Job's final lines:

            I had heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear;

            but now mine eye seeth Thee;

            wherefore I abhor myself and repent of dust and ashes.[41]

He glosses the last line:

            wherefore I abhor all that I used to desire and repent of my being in dust and ashes.

How satisfactory a solution is this?

            I find this to be in some ways an attractive reading of Job.  It seems to make plausible sense of the concluding verses of the poetic dialogue.  And it is preferable to the solution of the Sages in that Maimonides does have available a response to the question: what is wrong with what Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar have been saying?  Their problem is not that they defended God's justice, but that they misconceived the nature of good and evil.  They thought, as Job had before his enlightenment, that such things as the loss of wealth, of family, and of health, were evils.  So while they may have been right to say of God that he does not afflict man with undeserved evils, they were wrong to grant that Job was suffering evils. 

            This line of thought would combine naturally with what we have previously called the intellectualist position.  On that conception of providence, merit is determined by intellectual excellence, not by moral virtue; if we add that knowledge of God is the greatest good man can attain, by comparison with which any other human good is of no consequence, then there will be a necessary correlation between merit and well-being; coming to know God by speculative reasoning is one of the criteria of intellectual excellence; so anyone who achieves intellectual excellence necessarily possesses the highest good.

            Maimonides' solution, if this is, indeed, his solution, does have some awkward consequences, though.  The prose epilogue represents Job as being blessed in the end by having all the things he had lost restored to him.  If these things are not true goods, this is no blessing.  But perhaps Maimonides would reply that the story of Job is one of those parables in which not every detail "adds to the intended meaning," some being included either "to embellish the parable and render it more coherent or to conceal further the intended meaning."[42]

            More seriously, this solution requires us to say of Job, prior to his revelation from God, that the misfortunes which befell him were of no importance by comparison with his separation from God.  I think that trivializes those misfortunes in a way not true to the spirit of  Job.  In III, 22, Maimonides says, more realistically I think, that, though some people may be able to bear the loss of their fortune, and others the loss of their children, "no one endowed with sensation" can bear patiently the kind of pain Job had to endure. (p. 487/297) 

            It would also seem to distort the narrative to say that Job was abandoned to chance, when it was by God's choice that the Satan was permitted to inflict those sufferings on him, or to say that Job ultimately achieved knowledge of God "by the way of speculation" (Pines, p. 493), or by "research" (Friedländer, p. 300), when Job's ignorance of God was repaired by a direct revelation from God, and not the kind of arduous intellectual discipline Maimonides usually seems to think is necessary for speculative understanding.  Moreover, if the position of Eliphaz is the position of the Law, then any rejection of the position of Eliphaz is a rejection of the position of the Law, in spite of the fact that Maimonides represents himself as an adherent of the Law.[43]  Perhaps these are minor difficulties, but they do seem to me to be difficulties. The ultimate test, however, is whether this reading of God's praise of Job in the prose epilogue is consistent with what God says when he addresses Job in chapters 38-41.  It is to that passage that I now turn.

 

                                                              * * *

 

            On any reasonable interpretation of Job which does not dismember the text,[44] God's answer to Job out of the whirlwind must be the key to the meaning of the work as a whole.[45]  I've already suggested that I think one natural way of understanding that answer is to give it an Ash`arite reading.  Let me elaborate that idea.

            God does not respond directly to Job's challenge.  He does not identify any sins Job has committed which would justify his punishment.  How could he, given the repeated insistence in the prose prologue on Job's being without fault?  Not only had the narrator said that Job was "blameless and upright" (1:1), so had God himself (in 1:8 and again in 2:3).  I take it that the initial situation has not been changed by anything which occurs in the course of the dialogue, i.e., that Job has not become wicked merely by protesting that he is and has been innocent.  What he has said about himself in the dialogue has been true, so I do not think he commits the sin of pride in saying it.[46] 

            God addresses to Job a series of rhetorical questions which emphasize his impotence and ignorance, by contrast with God's power and knowledge.  God does not explicitly affirm his own omnipotence and omniscience, but that affirmation is contextually implied, as Job’s response acknowledges:

            I know that you can do all things;

            No purpose of yours can be thwarted.[47]

The implication would appear to be that God's omnipotence makes it legitimate for God to do as he will with Job, whether Job has disobeyed an antecedent divine command or not.  To say this is to give an Ash`arite reading of Job.  It is also to agree with Hobbes: God's irresistible might gives him the right to afflict men at his pleasure.[48]

            How does Maimonides read God's answer to Job?  He says he takes the speech to be intended to show

            that our intellects do not reach the point of apprehending how these natural things that exist in the world of generation and corruption are produced in time and of conceiving how the existence of the natural force within them has originated them.  They are not things that resemble what we make.  How then can we wish that His governance of, and providence for, them... should resemble our governance of, and providence for, the things we do govern and provide for? (p. 496/303)

That is, Maimonides invokes his doctrine of equivocal predication to deal with the problem of undeserved suffering.  The term "providence," applied to God, does not mean what it does when applied to man.  There is nothing in common between the two uses of the term except the term itself.  If a man knows this, he will be able to bear "every misfortune lightly." (p. 497/303)

            It's an interesting feature of Maimonides' discussion that he does not explicitly identify the answer he attributes to God with any of the five positions on providence he had previously distinguished.  On the plausible assumption that those five positions were supposed to exhaust the possibilities, we must ask: can we see the divine answer as corresponding to one of those five positions?

            Prima facie we can immediately exclude both the Mu`tazilite position and the teaching of the Law.  Both of these positions are committed to holding that (in the end, at least) God distributes good and evil to individual humans in proportion to their desert.  But if that were true of God, then we could say that the term "providence" is applied to God in the same sense in which we might use it in application to a wise and just human ruler.  And while I find the doctrine of equivocal predication rather mysterious, one thing it seems to imply is that we cannot truly say of God that he is just in the same sense a human ruler might be said to be just: it is not true that God sees to it that individual well-being is proportioned to desert. 

            Now, it may be possible to reconcile the teaching of the Law with the doctrine of equivocal predication by interpreting the Mosaic position in an intellectualist way.  So we might say: look, the problem with claiming that God is provident in the same sense in which a human ruler might be provident is not that God does not distribute well-being to individuals in proportion to their merit; the problem is that God's conceptions of well-being and merit are quite different from ours; he recognizes that knowledge of himself is the greatest gift he can bestow on his creatures, and he recognizes that only the intellectually excellent are worthy of that gift; so though there is a superficial similarity between God's providence and human providence, it is merely superficial.

            Still, I think the Ash`arite position gives a better expression to Maimonides' theory of equivocal predication.  If we adopt the compromise solution outlined above, blending equivocal predication with the intellectualist interpretation of the Mosaic position and Job's ‘Aristotelian’ valuation of contemplation, we do see an analogy between the meaning of "providence" when it is applied to God and its meaning when it is applied to humans.  Providence does, in each case, consist in proportioning well-being to merit.  Divine providence differs from human only insofar as it presupposes different conceptions of well-being and merit.  And even those conceptions are not totally different from the human conceptions, just more restrictive.  It seems perfectly consistent with human conceptions of well-being and merit to regard knowledge of God as a good, though not the good, or to regard intellectual excellence as a ground of merit, though not the only ground of merit.  So on the compromise position the difference between human and divine providence does not seem to be total.

            But Maimonides' doctrine of equivocal predication, as I understand it, does involve a complete difference between the meaning of terms applied to God and the meaning of the same terms as applied to humans:

            The terms "knowledge," "power," "will," and "life," as applied to Him... and to all those possessing knowledge, power, will, and life, are purely equivocal, so that their meaning when they are predicated of Him is in no way like their meaning in other applications. (I, 56, p. 131/79)

It seems to me that this total disparity of meaning is better expressed by saying that it is consistent with God's providence that there should be no connection at all between well-being and merit as humans would conceive these notions, that God's justice does not require him to relate well-being to merit in any way.  He may act quite arbitrarily and still be just.  And after all, isn't that just what God admits to doing when he says to the Satan "You incited me against him, to destroy him without cause"? (2:3)

            There is, however, a price to pay for this interpretation too.  I think it's a better reading of Job.  But it does reinstate a view of divine providence which Maimonides characterizes as a mistake Job first made and then corrected (III, 23, p. 492/300).  What Job argued during the dialogue was that God treats the wicked and the righteous equally, that to judge by his actions he is indifferent to questions of desert.  For most of the dialogue Job sounds like an Epicurean.  But so far as I can see, the Ash`arites (and Maimonides, when he is availing himself of the theory of equivocal predication) really agree with that part of the Epicurean view.  Where they differ from the Epicureans is in assigning an arbitrary personal agent as the cause of man's misfortunes, not chance.

            Where does this leave us?  At this stage of my reflections on Maimonides, I find it very hard to decide what his final word is, on providence in general, or on the book of Job in particular.  It does seem that his position on this issue is implicitly, if not explicitly contradictory, in that he suggests two different and incompatible solutions to the problem of undeserved suffering.  I am inclined to think that the contradiction is one he was astute enough to recognize.  So I also think, with Strauss,[49] that we should identify one of these solutions as his exoteric doctrine and the other as his esoteric doctrine.  I would guess that the intellectualist position (or the intellectualist interpretation of the Mosaic position) is his exoteric doctrine, and the Ash`arite position as his esoteric doctrine.  I realize that the intellectualist solution is the one Maimonides suggests more frequently than he does the Ash`arite solution, particularly in the concluding chapters of the Guide.  But I have come to think Strauss was right to advocate the following rule for dealing with Maimonides' contradictions:

            Of two contradictory statements in the Guide... that statement which occurs least frequently, or even which occurs only once, was considered by him to be true.[50]

While this may seem a rather mechanical principle, which reverses all normal canons of textual interpretation, it seems inescapable given the following statement from the Introduction to Part I:

            My purpose is that the truths be glimpsed and then again concealed, so as not to oppose that divine purpose which one cannot possibly oppose and which has concealed from the vulgar among the people those truths especially requisite for His apprehension. (pp. 6-7/3)

But, of course, any esotericist interpretation of the Guide must be highly controversial, and ultimately unprovable.  I can well imagine the young students in the synagogue in Amsterdam arguing for hours over the right way to understand Maimonides on this issue, and spending many more hours arguing about whether Maimonides, as they severally interpreted him, was right in his interpretation of Scripture.

 

                                                              * * *

 

            For the Spinozist it is a piece of rare good fortune that we have available some fairly direct evidence about how these matters were discussed in the Amsterdam synagogue.  In 1632 one of Spinoza's teachers, Manasseh ben Israel, published a work called The Conciliator,[51] in which he attempted to explain all the apparently contradictory passages in Scripture.  His premise was that since the Bible is "in the highest degree true, it cannot contain any text really contradictory of another." (p. ix)  Of the various prima facie contradictions he finds either within Job itself or between Job and other Scriptural texts, the most interesting deals with Job's denial of a life after death.  So far we have not had any occasion to consider this, since it is an aspect of Job Maimonides does not discuss in the Guide.[52] But it is noteworthy that, of the five solutions Maimonides canvasses, the only one to invoke the idea of compensation in the life to come is the Mu`tazilite view Maimonides rejects.

            Manasseh begins by citing the following, prima facie contradictory, Scriptural verses:

            1 Sam. 2:6.  The Lord killeth and maketh alive, he bringeth down to the grave and bringeth up.

            Job 7:9.  So he that goeth down to the grave shall not come up.

He acknowledges that the verse from Job is only one of many in Scripture which appear to deny the resurrection, and he refers the reader to his treatise on the subject for a full explanation of the others. But he does offer an explanation of Job's statement in The Conciliator:

            Moses, who wrote the Book of Job, introduces him as suffering much affliction, and considering himself innocent, so that he doubted and disbelieved the interposition of Divine Providence, attributing everything, even the resurrection, to the influence of the planets. (II, p. 41)

This is interesting for a number of reasons.  Note

            1) that Manasseh takes Moses to be the author of the Book of Job, whereas Maimonides grants that it may have been written as late as the post-exilic period;

            2) that Manasseh appears to doubt Job's innocence, representing this as an idea Job had (in spite of the fact that both the narrator and God testify to Job's innocence), whereas Maimonides never questions Job's innocence;

            3)  that Manasseh also seems to have rejected Maimonides' contention that Job is an Aristotelian, making him, instead, a believer in astrology; where this idea comes from I do not know.

In all these respects Manasseh disagrees with Maimonides.  As he continues, however, he follows Maimonides in ascribing to Eliphaz the Mosaic position, to Bildad the Mu`tazilite position, and to Zophar the Ash`arite position.  (He does not use these labels, but his brief descriptions of the three positions match those of Maimonides quite closely.)  Then he presents his solution to the problem of Job's (apparent) mortalism:

            Moses, therefore, being desirous of treating on Divine Providence in this Book, by interlocutors, and giving reasons pro and contra, as usual in such discussions; therefore, no notice can be paid to Job denying, or his apparent denial of, the resurrection; for we find him at the conclusion repentant, saying, "O Lord, I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear, but now mine eye seeth thee, therefore I abhor myself and repent me in dust and ashes." (II, p. 41)

Manasseh seems here to accept the view that the Book of Job is "a parable intended to set forth the opinions of people concerning providence"; he is not content simply to say that Job is a character in a dialogue, whose views are not necessarily those of Scripture itself.  Though he does not call attention to God's endorsement of Job's statements, he does implicitly deal with that problem as Maimonides had, by calling attention to Job's repentance and the consequent ambiguity as to just what opinion of Job's God is endorsing.  Manasseh's use of the recantation, though, is different from Maimonides':  the opinion Job recants must be his denial of resurrection, not his affirmation that in life as we experience it the innocent often suffer and the wicked often prosper. 

            The logic of this analysis would seem to lead to a Mu`tazilite solution of the problem of Job: "the upright sometimes experience misfortunes and troubles, that their reward in the next world may be increased."[53]  Though this is a reading of Job which seems natural enough if you focus on the prose prologue, it is difficult to defend if you take into account the prose epilogue, where God rejects the opinions of all three of the friends.

            I think Manasseh's reading of Job is also difficult theologically.  The Mu`tazilite idea is that Job is being tested: though at the beginning of his afflictions he has been without sin, it has to that point been too easy for him to be virtuous; the depth of his integrity can be fully demonstrated only if he persists in his loyalty to God even though he does not receive a reward for it, but instead suffers terribly in spite of it; by demonstrating the depth of his integrity, Job earns an even greater reward than he would have merited without this trial.

            But to whom, on this view, is Job's integrity to be demonstrated?  In Saadiah the answer is fairly clear.  It cannot be to God, since his foreknowledge makes it unnecessary to test his creatures.[54]  Had God not permitted the Satan to afflict Job, He would still have known how Job would have responded to such a trial.  The test must be intended to demonstrate Job's integrity to someone else, the obvious candidate being the Satan, whom Saadiah takes to be a man (p. 154-158), representative of Job's many neighbors, who envied him his prosperity, and thought he did not deserve it, since he served God, they thought, only out of self-interest. (p. 159)  But it seems rather hard on Job that he (and his family) should have to suffer so to prove a point to these other people.  Is this not to treat Job as a means only, and not as an end in himself?  And is afflicting an innocent man with grotesque suffering really an effective way to teach people that he is disinterestedly loyal to God?  None of Job's friends seems to have drawn the intended conclusion, persisting, until corrected by divine revelation, in their belief that Job must have done something terribly wrong.  It would have been fairer to Job if God had resorted to that revelation earlier.  Perhaps the difficulty of understanding God's action on Saadiah's interpretation of Job is one reason Manasseh hesitates to accept the textual evidence that Job must be conceived as innocent.  The tendency of theists to find some fault with Job is strong.

            Manasseh makes no mention of Elihu or of God's address to Job from the whirlwind, but concludes by mentioning another way of dealing with the problem of Job's denial of the resurrection:

            Maimonides solves it in another manner, saying that this verse of Job, and similar ones, treat only of the ordinary course of nature, for he who dies does not naturally awake or rise again from the grave; he does not, therefore, impugn the resurrection, for that will be a future miracle that will surpass the natural order of things.  By which the doubt is also resolved.[55]

This completes Manasseh's reconciliation of the contradiction from which he began. I'm afraid that it is characteristic of his treatment of prima facie contradictions in Scripture.  He is content if he can come up with one way of reconciling them; if he is aware of more than one, he may simply give the alternatives without feeling obliged to justify a preference for one over the other.  Manasseh is a very learned man, whose work drew high praise from his contemporaries, [56] but his attempts to reconcile scriptural contradictions often seem rather casual.  Whatever difficulties Spinoza may have had with Maimonides' treatment of Job, I suspect he recognized it to be superior to Manasseh’s.

 

                                                              * * *

 

            Maimonides is clearly an important figure in the Theological-Political Treatise.  Spinoza frequently cites him, always for purposes of disagreement.  His general complaint in the TTP about the religious thinkers of his day is that they teach nothing but

            Aristotelian and Platonic speculations.  Not to seem to constantly follow pagans, they have accomodated Scripture to these speculations.  It was not enough for them to be insane with the Greeks, they wanted the prophets to rave with them.  This clearly shows that they do not see the divinity of Scripture even through a dream. (Preface, §§18-19, Gebhardt edition III/9)

Maimonides appears to be his historical paradigm of that misconceived Hellenization of Scripture.  So when Spinoza is defining his own method for the interpretation of Scripture in TTP vii, it is Maimonides he takes as the representative of the principal alternative methodology, which requires you first to know the truth before you can determine what Scripture is saying.  He quotes at length a passage from the Guide, in which Maimonides writes that he does not deny the eternity of the world merely because of the Scriptural texts which appear to teach that the world was created. 

            The texts indicating that the world has been produced in time are not more numerous than those indicating that the deity is a body. (Guide, II, 25, p. 327/199, cited at TTP vii, 76, III/113-114)

If we had a philosophical demonstration of the eternity of the world (as we have for God's incorporeality), we would be obliged to interpret figuratively the texts indicating creation in time (as we do those indicating God's corporeality).  It would not be difficult to do this; but it is not necessary, since Aristotle's attempt to demonstrate the eternity of the world is inconclusive.

            This does seem to illustrate an attitude toward the Biblical text which fails to respect its integrity.  Whatever you think Maimonides' final word on Job is, our examination of him certainly supports the claim that he reads Scripture in terms of Platonic or Aristotelian speculations.  Insofar as he advocates the Mosaic position, he does so by understanding it in terms of Greek ideas about the value of contemplation and intellectual excellence.  And even when he seems to be adopting an Ash`arite/Epicurean view of providence, which you might think not particularly Platonic or Aristotelian, he develops those ideas in the context of a negative theology which evidently goes back at least to Plotinus, and perhaps to Plato's Parmenides.  The God who emerges from this theology seems very remote from the personal God of the Bible.  However you understand Maimonides on this issue, arguably he Hellenizes Scripture.

            Still, I want to argue, Spinoza's final evaluation of Maimonides may not be as negative as this would suggest.  To say that Maimonides reads Scripture in a Greek way is not necessarily to say that he reads Greek ideas into Scripture.  Perhaps those Aristotelian and Platonic ideas are there in the text.  I think, in fact, that's a plausible thing to say, so long as we restrict ourselves to the Book of Job and certain other books like it.  I think each of the two views of providence to which Maimonides seems drawn has some support in the text of Job.  I'm inclined to think the Ash`arite/Epicurean view is a better reading of the text than the Mosaic/Aristotelian view.  But neither seems to me crazy as an interpretation of Job.

            Spinoza does not offer an extended discussion of the Book of Job in the TTP. He does, however, make a number of brief, but suggestive comments.  The first of the three passages I shall consider occurs toward the end of Chapter II, where Spinoza is arguing that God accommodated his revelations to the prophets’ intellectual capacities and opinions, and that the prophets could be ignorant about speculative matters, though not about practical matters:

Concerning the reasonings by which God showed Job his power [potentiam] over all things – if it is in fact true that they were revealed to Job, and that the author was concerned to narrate a history, not (as some believe) to embellish his conceptions – we must say the same thing: that they were adduced according to Job’s power of understanding [ad captum Jobi], and to convince him only, not that they are universal reasons for convincing everyone.[57]

What is most interesting in this passage, though also quite puzzling, is its implicit critique of the reasoning in Job. Job is convinced by reasons which are not suitable to convince everyone. Indeed, Spinoza suggests that the reasons which convinced Job would not have convinced someone whose power of understanding was greater.

It’s tempting to see in this a critique of Job, as read by voluntarists like Calvin and Hobbes (and Maimonides?): in Job God claims that his omnipotence gives him the right to inflict suffering on Job without cause; but this is a primitive view of the relation between power and right, which a more sophisticated understanding would reject. But this seems a dubious reading of the passage, since Spinoza himself appears later in the TTP to embrace the voluntarist ideas which this reading would have him criticize. This occurs when he argues that

nature, considered absolutely, has the supreme right [summum jus] to do everything in its power, i.e., that the right of nature extends as far as its power [potentia] does. For the power of nature is the power itself of God, who has the supreme right over all things. (TTP xvi, 3, III/189/17-21)

It’s difficult to see how someone who holds this could legitimately criticize the teaching of Job, as interpreted by the voluntarists.

Perhaps the solution is that Spinoza is criticizing, not the inference from absolute power to absolute right, but the reasoning by which absolute power is established in the first place. (He does, after all, speak of the reasonings by which God showed Job his power over all things, not his right over all things.) When God speaks to Job from out of the storm, he does not offer reasons from which Job could legitimately infer that God can do all things. He addresses a series of rhetorical questions to him, challenging him to say, for example, where he was when God founded the earth, or whether he has ever commanded a morning, or whether he can tie Pleiades’ fetters, or whether he knows when the ibex give birth. If Job answered these questions, he would presumably say “I didn’t exist then,” or “no, I haven’t,” or “no, I can’t,” or “no, I don’t know.” Perhaps Spinoza’s criticism is that, although the suggested answers might well be correct, Job should not infer from his ignorance and incapacity that there is a personal being who possesses the power and knowledge he lacks, who can, in fact, do the things Job can’t, and knows the things Job doesn’t. This is a conjecture, no more. But it seems more coherent with the rest of Spinoza’s philosophy than the first suggestion does.

 Spinoza returns to the book of Job briefly in Chapter III of the TTP, in connection with the claim that the Jews are God’s chosen people. Here he uses the example of Job to argue that far from favoring the Jews, God is equally well-disposed to all nations. Both reason and scripture show this, and he cites Job 28:28, 

Behold, the fear of the Lord that is wisdom,

To turn from evil is understanding,

as one of several scriptural passages which are supposed to establish his point. Job, Spinoza argues, was a gentile,[58] yet he was most acceptable to God, because he surpassed everyone in piety and religion.

When Spinoza returns to the topic of Job later in the TTP, he begins by noting the controversies which have existed about this book and about the person of Job:

            Some people think that Moses wrote this book, and that the whole story is only a parable.  Certain Rabbis in the Talmud hand down this view, and Maimonides too is favorably inclined towards it in his Moreh Nebuchim.  Others believed the story to be true.  Of these, some thought that this Job lived in the time of Jacob, and that he married Jacob's daughter, Dinah. (TTP x, 16, III/144)

Then he reports Ibn Ezra’s opinion, that the book of Job was not written originally in Hebrew, but was translated into Hebrew from another language,[59] commenting that

            I wish he had shown us this more convincingly, for if he had, we could infer that the gentiles too had sacred books.  So I leave the matter in doubt.  Nevertheless, I do conjecture that Job was a gentile whose heart was very constant, and whose affairs at first prospered, then went very badly, and finally went very favorably.  For Ezekiel 14:14 names him among others [as a righteous man].  And I believe that the changes in Job's fortunes, and the constancy of his heart, gave many people an occasion for arguing about God's providence - or at least gave the author of the dialogue of this book an occasion to argue about it.  For both the content and the style seem to be, not those of a man suffering among the ashes, but of a man reflecting at leisure in his study. (§§17-18)

Here Spinoza, possibly following Hobbes,[60] aligns himself with those who think, on literary critical grounds, that the story of Job is a parable, though (like Hobbes) he will allow that the story probably has some historical basis, in the sense that there was a person of that name, to whom roughly those things happened. 

            Most significantly, perhaps, Spinoza is attracted to the hypothesis that Job is a gentile book.  Here is how he concludes his discussion:

            I would believe, along with Ibn Ezra, that this book really was translated from another language, because [the author] seems to aspire to the poetic art of the gentiles.  For twice the Father of the Gods calls a council, and Momus, here called Satan, criticizes God's words with the greatest freedom, etc.  But these are only conjectures, and are not sufficiently firm. (§18)

In the end he declines to flatly affirm that Job is a gentile book, but it is clear what he would say, if forced to make a judgment.

            What is the significance of this issue?  In the first instance, of course, it bears on the question "In what sense are the Jews God's chosen people?"  If other peoples had sacred books, then God's revelation was not to the Jews alone, even before the advent of Christianity.  But it is possible to see in this issue a broader significance: if Job is a gentile book, then there is no particular reason to expect its theology to be Jewish.  Spinoza's concluding remarks suggest that the theology of Job is, indeed, a gentile, polytheistic theology, with Yahweh as "the father of the Gods," and Satan as Momus, a figure from classical mythology noted for his fault-finding.  If the theology of Job is gentile, then there is no particular reason to expect it to be consistent with the theology of the rest of the Hebrew Bible.  Is this what Spinoza intends to suggest?

            I think quite possibly it is.  If we could press Spinoza on his interpretation of Job, and get candid answers from him, what we might find him saying is this: Job is a book whose meaning is very obscure.  But the kind of interpretation you're apt to get in the synagogue - which says that Job was just being tested, and that if he passed the test by demonstrating that he really was serving God disinterestedly, his unmerited sufferings would be compensated in the afterlife - that interpretation is hopeless both as a reading of the text and as a theodicy.  There are better readings of the text available in the Jewish tradition, specifically in Maimonides, where what Ibn Ezra suggested is tacitly admitted - that the theology of Job is very unhebraic, that we have to either conceive God as caring only about intellectual excellence and not about moral virtue, or else regard him as a purely arbitrary ruler, who has no concern for proportioning well-being to merit in any way.  This last way of reading Job is probably the best, but adopting that interpretation requires you to realize that the theology of Job is radically different from what you get in most of the rest of the Hebrew Bible. 

            We can only say "most of the rest" because Job is not without parallel in the Bible on the issue of providence.  If you accept the theology of Job, then you will say, with Solomon:

            All this I laid to heart, examining it all, how the righteous and the wise and their deeds are in the hand of God; whether it is love or hate one does not know.  Everything that confronts them is vanity, since the same fate comes to all, to the righteous and the wicked, to the good and the evil, to the clean and the unclean, to those who sacrifice and to those who do not sacrifice.  As are the good, so are the sinners... This is an evil in all that happens under the sun, that the same fate comes to everyone.  Moreover, the hearts of all are full of evil; madness is in their hearts while they live, and after that they go to the dead.[61]

Solomon's view is equivalent to Epicureanism, as is the theology of Job: there is no proportioning of well-being to merit in this life; there is no life to come in which we might hope that things would be corrected; Solomon, like the author of Job, will express this in terms of a kind of theism, saying that everything happens by the will of God; but so long as that God is conceived as acting completely arbitrarily, there is no meaningful difference between that kind of theism and the Epicurean doctrine that everything happens by chance.

            We should not be surprised to find a contradiction this fundamental in the Bible.  After all, does not Maimonides warn us that one reason why books or compilations contain contradictory statements is that someone "has collected the remarks of various people with differing opinions, but has omitted citing his authorities and has not attributed each remark to the one who said it"? (Pines, p. 17)  He cites the Talmud as an example, but he might equally well have cited the Bible itself.  The idea current in the synagogue of Spinoza’s day - that Moses wrote both the Pentateuch and the book of Job - can only be defended by profoundly misunderstanding the meaning of Job.

            This view has consequences which go beyond the immediate issue of theodicy.  Once we recognize the impropriety of conceiving God as proportioning well-being to merit, we will recognize also that we cannot any longer conceive of God as a lawgiver, who rewards the obedient and punishes the disobedient, and that the whole notion of a natural law, and of sins being committed in the state of nature, is without foundation (cf. TTP xix, 8).  But to pursue those consequences would take us out of theology and into politics.  That is a story for another day.

 



[1] From Jewish Themes in Spinoza’s Philosophy, ed. by Heidi Ravven and Lenn Goodman, Albany, NY: SUNY Press, 2002. This paper originally appeared in a French translation in Architectures de la raison: melanges offerts à Alexandre Matheron, ed. by Pierre-François Moreau, Fontenay-aux-Roses: ENS editions, 1996. This revised version of the English original has profited from comments by Steve Nadler, Heidi Ravven, and Lenn Goodman..

[2].  Cf. the preface written by Spinoza's close friend, Jarig Jelles, for the edition of his posthumous works:

        from his childhood on the author was trained in letters, and in his youth for many years he was occupied principally with theology; but when he reached the age at which the intellect is mature and capable of investigating the nature of things, he gave himself up entirely to philosophy.  He was driven by a burning desire for knowledge; but because he did not get full satisfaction either from his teachers or from those writing about these sciences, he decided to see what he himself could do in these areas.  For that purpose he found the writings of the famous René Descartes, which he came upon at that time, very useful.

This document is given in F. Akkerman, Studies in the Posthumous Works of Spinoza, Krips Repro Meppel, 1980, pp. 216-217.

[3].  See Bayle's article on Spinoza in his Historical and Critical Dictionary, reprinted in Pierre Bayle, Ecrits sur Spinoza, ed. by P.-F. Moreau, Berg International Editeurs, 1983, p. 22.

     [4].  1:1.  Unless otherwise indicated, I follow the translation by Marvin Pope, in the Anchor Job (Doubleday, 3rd edition, 1973).  I also consult the King James (KJV) and Revised Standard Versions (RSV), as given in The Interpreter's Bible, vol. VI, ed. with commentary by Samuel Terrien (Abingdon, 1954), the translation of the Jewish Publication Society (JPS), as given in the Soncino Job (2nd ed., by Rabbi Dr. Victor Reichert, with revisions by Rabbi A. J. Rosenberg, Soncino Press, 1985), the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV), as given in the New Oxford Annotated Bible, Oxford UP, 1991), the translation by Norman Habel in The Book of Job (Westminster Press, 1985), and the new JPS translation, as given in Tanakh: The Holy Scriptures (JPS, 1985).

                The KJV at this point has "perfect and upright," a rendering against which the Soncino commentary protests, on the ground that "such a designation the Jewish mind would only accord to God.  What the word connotes is `without moral blemish, blameless, innocent, serving God without ulterior motives.' Job is presented to us as a man of complete human integrity."  Other commentators who would apparently allow the use of the term "perfect" seem to mean no more by it than what the Soncino commentary allows.  Cf. Pope, p. 6, and The New Jerome Bible Commentary, Prentice Hall, 1990, p. 469 (cited as NJBC).

     [5].   On the use of the definite article, see Pope (pp. 9-10): "...the term is a title and not yet a proper name.  The figure here is not the fully developed character of the later Jewish and Christian Satan or Devil... The Satan is one of the members of the divine court and comes with other attendants to present himself at the celestial court and report on the fulfillment of his duties... The Satan was a kind of spy, roaming the earth and reporting to God on the evil he found therein..."  The NJBC concurs, p. 470.  The later conception of Satan with which that in Job is here contrasted would be one in which Satan is the leader of the forces of evil in the world, who tempts man to sin that he may have companions in his rebellion against God.  Cf. Harper's Bible Dictionary (Harper and Row, 1985, pp. 908-909) and Milton’s Paradise Lost.

     [6].  Pope remarks that "attempts to find progression in the debate and subtle differences in the character and personality of the three friends are labored and unconvincing." (Anchor Job, p. lxxv) 

     [7].  The Hebrew does not supply an object for the verb and translations fall into two main groups, those which offer something equivalent to Pope's translation (e.g., "I abhor my words"(JPS), "I repudiate what I said" (Driver and Gray)) and those which follow the lead of the KJV ("I abhor myself," followed by RSV and NRSV).

     [8].  So 42:10 says.  And indeed Job does get double the number of sheep, camels, oxen, and donkeys.  But the numbers of sons and daughters are not doubled.

     [9].  In citing The Guide of the Perplexed I generally follow the highly regarded translation by Shlomo Pines (U of Chicago P, 1963, 2 vols.).  Cf. the comments by Marvin Fox, in Interpreting Maimonides (U of Chicago P, 1990, pp. 47-54.)  Occasionally I suspect that Pines may be misleading.  In such cases, lacking Arabic, I consult and cite as possible alternatives the renderings of M. Friedländer (Dover, 1956), S. Munk (Le guide des égarés, Paris: A. Franck, 1866), and Lenn Goodman (in Rambam: Readings in the Philosophy of Moses Maimonides Viking, 1976). Pages references are to Pines first, and then to Friedländer.

     [10].  Maimonides does, however, ascribe this opinion to "those in Israel who were unbelievers," citing Jeremiah 5:12, "They have spoken falsely of the Lord, and have said, `He will do nothing.  No evil will come upon us, and we shall not see sword or famine.'" (NRSV)  So the claim that all five opinions are ancient is safe.  Note that Maimonides does not ascribe this first position to any passage in Scripture where the author is speaking propria persona, and not representing the views of others.  (He might have cited Ecclesiastes 9:1-6.)

[11] From Charles Touati, I learn that there was a controversy about the correctness of this reading of Aristotle among Maimonides’ medieval successors. See his “Les deux théories de Maïmonide sur la providence,” in Prophètes, Talmudistes, Philosophes (Cerf, 1990, p. 189n). I am indebted to Steve Nadler for calling my attention to Touati’s work.

     [12].  See Pines' introduction, pp. lxv-lxvii, and his “Un texte inconnu d’Aristote en version arabe,” in Archive d’histoire doctrinale et littéraire du moyen age, 31 (1956): 5-43, 34(1959): 446-9 (reprinted in vol. II of Pines’ Collected Works, Jerusalem and Leiden, 1986, pp. 157-200). H. J. Ruland has translated this treatise into German (Die arabischen Fassungen zweier Schriften des Aleexander von Aphrodisias über die Vorsehung und über das liberum arbitrium, diss. Saarbrücken, 1976).  See also the discussion by Robert Sharples, “Alexander of Aphrodisias on divine providence: two problems,” in Classical Quarterly, n.s. 32(1982): 198-211. I understand from Sharples (personal communication) that there should be an Italian translation out by now (S. Fazzo and M. Zonta, Alessandro d’Afrodisia, Sulla Provvidenza, Milan: Rizzoli).  But I am indebted for most of my knowledge of the treatise to course materials Sharples communicated to me in 1995. He regards the basic ideas in Alexander’s treatise as ‘authentically Aristotelian.’

     [13].  The view Maimonides ascribes to Aristotle in III, 17 (Whatever happens to individuals in the sublunary realm happens by chance) seems patently inconsistent with the view he ascribes to him in II, 20 (No natural things come about by chance).  More of this later.

     [14].  In III, 17, Maimonides does not explain why (according to the Ash`arites) we should not seek reasons for God's actions, but in III, 23, he does: "The point of view of justice or a requirement of wisdom should not be sought in whatever the deity does, for His greatness and true reality entail His doing what He wills..."  On Ash`arite voluntarism see George Hourani, Reason and Tradition in Islamic Ethics, Cambridge UP, 1985, pp. 118-123, and Oliver Leaman, An Introduction to Medieval Islamic Philosophy, Cambridge UP, 1985, pp. 123-143.

[15] Goodman: “outrageous consequences.”

     [16].  See The Book of Theodicy, Translation and Commentary on the Book of Job, by Saadiah ben Joseph Al-Fayyumi, tr. by L. E. Goodman, Yale UP, 1988.  For Maimonides' awareness of Saadiah's position, see the passage cited below in n. 15 ("some of the latter-day Gaonim").  It's unclear, however, whether Saadiah embraces the extension of divine providence to non-human animals.  Cf. p. 138, n. 31.

 

     [17].  Pines, p. 471.  But perhaps the appearance of grudging acceptance is an artifact of the Pines translation.  Friedländer here reads: "The principle which I accept is far less open to objections, and is more reasonable than the opinions mentioned before." (p. 286) Munk reads: "L'opinion que j'admets offre moins d'invraisemblance que les opinions précédentes et s'approche davantage du raisonnement de l'intelligence." Goodman: “This view I accept is less beset with unfortunate consequences than those I have already described and more capable of winning the assent of reason.”

     [18].  P. 472/287.  Cf. p. 471/286:  "Our Law is exclusively concerned with the circumstances of human individuals; and in ancient times the story of this compensation accorded to animals has never been heard in our religious community, nor was it ever mentioned by one of the sages.  But some of the latter-day Gaonim... have heard it from the Mu`tazila and have approved it and believed it."

     [19].  Job 34:21, cited on p. 472/287.

     [20].  Psalms 8:4.  There is an ironic allusion to this verse in Job 7:17-21, interesting (among other reasons) because the context suggests not merely that Job does not welcome God's attention, but also that God's interest in him would be more understandable if he were (not a mere man) but "the Sea or the Dragon." (7:12)

     [21].  Cf. p. 474/288: "This is the opinion that to my mind corresponds to the intelligible and to the texts of the Law."

[22] In comments on an earlier version of this paper the editors of this volume commented that this sentence presupposed “a more anthropomorphic/anthropopathic God than Maimonides’” (citing Guide III, 28). But this, in fact, is one important reason why I don’t think that the position I describe here represents Maimonides’ last word on the subject. See below, p. nn.

     [23].  "Accordingly, divine providence does not watch in an equal manner over all the individuals of the human species, but providence is graded as their human perfection is graded." (III, 18, p. 475/289)  In III, 51, Maimonides is more specific about what "grading" implies: "Providence always watches over an individual endowed with perfect apprehension, whose intellect never ceases from being occupied with God... an individual endowed with perfect apprehension, whose thought sometimes for a certain time is emptied of God, is watched over by providence only during the time when he thinks of God... [the] withdrawal [of providence when he is occupied with something else] is not like its withdrawal from those who have never had intellectual cognition... [the latter are] like one who is in darkness and has never seen light... the reason for an individual's being abandoned to chance so that he is permitted to be devoured like the beasts is his being separated from God." (pp. 624-626/388-389)

     [24].  E.g., in III, 18, pp. 475-76/289-90, Maimonides cites various passages in which God promises to watch over Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses and Joshua, and cause them to prosper.  But nothing in the passages cited suggests, what Maimonides would need to show, that these men were selected for special favor because of their intellectual excellence (or combination of intellectual excellence and moral virtue).   "With regard to providence watching over excellent men and neglecting the ignorant," Maimonides cites 1 Samuel 2:9, "He will keep the feet of his holy ones, but the wicked shall be put to silence in darkness, for not by strength shall man prevail," which seems rather to indicate that moral virtue is the sole criterion for divine providence.  The Hebrew term translated by "holy ones" in Pines is hasidhim, which is rendered "saints" (KJV) and "faithful ones" (RSV, NRSV).  According to the Interpreter's Bible, "it includes in it an element of love, but the fundamental element is loyalty, and usually it is loyalty to an agreement." (Vol. III, p. 885)

     [25].  Maimonides reaffirms this view vigorously at the end of the Guide (see particularly III, 51 and 54).  Oliver Leaman seems to take this to be Maimonides' last word on providence in Moses Maimonides, Routledge, 1990, pp. 120-28 (but see pp. 170-171 for a more subtle reading), as does Fox, Interpreting Maimonides, pp. 192-193, 218-219, 314-15 (but see pp. 203-204 for a passage suggesting an Ash`arite solution). Perhaps Touati’s ‘second maimonidean theory of providence’ is a version of what I am calling the intellectualist position, though he seems to stress direct knowledge of God more than intellectual excellence in the broad sense.

     [26].  As to whether it is a Hebraic view, see Fox, p. 172 (commenting on the view, expressed in the Guide, III, 27, p. 511, that the ultimate perfection of man is "to become rational in actu"): "This doctrine might be expected to trouble any thoughtful reader... If one were to ask within a normal Jewish setting what it is to be a good man or a good Jew, the answer would almost certainly focus on moral virtues and/or the fulfillment of God's commandments."

                As to whether it is Hellenic, we might cite the following passage from the Nicomachean Ethics:

                If the gods have any care for human affairs, as they are thought to have, it would be reasonable both that they should delight in that which was best and most akin to them (i.e., intellect) and that they should reward those who love and honor this most, as caring for the things that are dear to them and acting both rightly and nobly.  And that all these attributes belong most of all to the wise man is manifest.  He, therefore, is the dearest to the gods. (X, viii, 1179a24-30, Ross tr., rev. by Urmson, cited by Touati, p. 189n)

I find this passage curious both in its own right, and in relation to other Aristotelian passages.  Aristotle begins with a conditional, whose antecedent he does not affirm (and whose antecedent seems inconsistent with the theology of Book Lambda).  He concludes with a claim which seems to require the truth of that antecedent.  I suppose that he is seeking support for his high valuation of contemplation in popular beliefs which he himself does not accept.

                As further evidence of the difference between Aristotle's view and that of the Hebrew Bible, we might note that earlier in ch. viii, Aristotle finds it absurd to think of the gods as behaving justly, in the sense of making contracts and performing what they have promised. (1178b10)

     [27].  Cf. Fox, pp. 82-84.

     [28].  III, 22, pp. 489-90/298: "Good inclination is only found in man when his intellect is perfected."  This would make moral virtue entail intellectual excellence. That intellectual excellence entails moral perfection seems implicit in the claim that our love of God is proportionate to our knowledge of him (III, 51, p. 621/386).

     [29].  III, 22, p. 487, translator's emphasis.  Cf. Leaman's comment on this passage: "The account of Job only arises because Job is not very bright." (Moses Maimonides, p. 125)

     [30].  III, 51, p. 619.  Friedländer's translation seems less disparaging of those who observe the commandments: "the multitude that observe the divine commandments but are ignorant." (p. 384)  Munk has "les ignorants qui s'occupent des pratiques religieuses."

     [31].  This is somewhat surprising, since Maimonides holds elsewhere that "an individual cannot but sin and err" (III, 36, p. 540/332), a view encouraged by the Psalmist: "They have all gone astray, they are all alike perverse; there is no one who does good, no, not one." (Ps. 12:3)  We might interpret the claim that cases like Job's always exist to mean that there are always some people who approximate blamelessness and who nevertheless suffer calamities out of all proportion to their fault.  I think this is consistent with the passage from the Guide III, 36, if not with the Psalm.

     [32].  III, 22, p. 486/296; the phrase in italics is an allusion to the Talmud, though Pines reports that the passage alluded to is a discussion of the vision of Ezekiel, not the story of Job.

     [33].  Pines’ translation always uses "Satan" as a proper name; Friedländer uses "the adversary." I follow Pines.  Omitting the definite article seems better suited to Maimonides' interpretation of Satan.           

     [34].  In III, 22, see pp. 487/297 and 489/298, and cf. II, 30, p. 356/217.

     [35].  So Pines, p. 490.  Similarly Goodman. Friedländer: "I have fully explained the idea contained in the account of Job..." (p. 298, my emphasis)  Munk reads: "Je crois maintenant avoir exposé et éclairci à fond l'histoire de Job."

     [36]. Pines' annotation at this point refers us to the introduction to Part I, presumably to pp. 17-18 (= Friedländer 10-11), where Maimonides lists seven reasons why contradictions may be found in a book, and indicates that one of the reasons why contradictions may be found in his book is the need to conceal some parts of his teaching regarding obscure matters from the vulgar.

     [37].  Cf. David Clines: "In reminding the Satan that he ‘urged’ Yahweh to ‘destroy’ Job, Yahweh is by no means repudiating responsibility for Job's former trial (Peake), nor giving him credit for instigating the experiment (Pope).  Rather Yahweh invites Satan's agreement to the apparent success of the experiment in which the Satan and Yahweh have together been implicated." (The Word Biblical Commentary, Job 1-20, Word Books, 1989, p. 43) The commentary of Norman Habel (The Book of Job, a commentary, pp. 94-95) seems to concur.  The prose epilogue flatly ascribes responsibility for Job's misfortunes to God (41:11).

     [38].  He goes so far as to say that "if now you consider the discourse of the five in the course of their conversation, you may almost think that whatever one of them says is said also by all the others..." (p. 491, my emphasis)  This would be reasonable as regards Eliphaz, Bildad, Zophar and Elihu, but is hard to accept (even giving due weight to "almost") when Job is included.  The paradox is also present in Friedländer: "When you consider the words of the five who take part in the discussion, you will easily notice that things said by one of them are also uttered by the rest." (p. 299)  Munk reads: "Si l'on considère les paroles que les cinq hommes échangent dans leur dialogue, on serait tenté de croire que ce que dit l'un, tous les autres le disent également..." Similarly Goodman.

     [39].  Maimonides cites Job 8:6-7, which contends that, if Job really is innocent, God will compensate him in the future for his undeserved suffering.  What Bildad says there, however, makes no explicit appeal to compensation in an afterlife.

     [40].  It was Hobbes' reading of God's answer (Leviathan ch. xxxi, ¶6, pp. 236-37 in the Hackett edition). It is also a good Calvinist reading. See his Sermons on Job, esp. Sermon 5, emphasizing Job 1:21, “Yahweh gave, Yahweh took away, blessed be Yahweh’s name.”

     [41].  Here I follow the translation of 42:5-6 given in the Pines translation, which is closer to the KJV (& RSV & NRSV) than to the Pope translation. 

     [42].  Introduction to Part I, p. 12/6-7.  At the end of III, 23, Maimonides writes that he has summed up all the notions of the Book of Job, "nothing being left aside except such matters as figure there because of the arrangement of the discourse and the continuation of the parable, according to what I have explained to you several times in this Treatise." (p. 497/303).  I don't believe Maimonides ever does mention the restoration of Job's prosperity.

     [43].  It may, however, be necessary to take Maimonides' professed adherence to the Law with a grain of salt for independent reasons.  The contradiction he claims to identify in the Mu`tazilite position does not involve any doctrine peculiar to the Mu`tazilite view, but only doctrines which are shared between the Mu`tazilites and the adherents of the Law (that man has free will and that God knows everything).  See pp. 469/285 and 485/295.  On the other hand, III, 20, p. 482-83/293-94, seems to take back the claim that the Mu`tazilite position is contradictory.

     [44].  On one interesting theory of the formation of the book, in the original narrative Job maintained his patience throughout, though (in a section now lost) his friends urged him, as his wife had done, to "curse God and die."  (H. L. Ginsberg, “Job the Patient and Job the Impatient," Conservative Judaism 21/3 (1967):12-28)  This would completely alter the significance of God's rebuke of the friends and praise of Job.  But if the poetic dialogue is, as this hypothesis assumes, a later addition, we still have to reckon with the fact that whoever joined the poetic dialogue to the prose narrative and whoever judged the result worthy of inclusion in the canon apparently thought the composite work told a coherent story.

     [45].  In "Maimonides, Aquinas, and Gersonides on Providence and Evil" (Religious Studies 20(1984):335-351) David Burrell criticizes Maimonides (and Gersonides) for mislocating the dramatic center of the work in the speech of Elihu, rather than the address from the whirlwind.  Since Maimonides has to stretch to find anything new in what Elihu says, I hesitate to ascribe this view to him.

     [46].  Pace Samuel Terrien, Interpreter's Bible, III, 899.  In conversation Eric Sward suggested a way of defending the claim that Job is guilty of pride in claiming to be innocent: we might so define pride that you commit the sin of pride merely by holding highly favorable beliefs about yourself without adequate evidence, even if the beliefs are true.  On this view, Job commits the sin of pride, not by falsely believing that he is without fault, but by believing in an innocence no human can know himself to possess.  This is an interesting conception of pride. But if that had been the point of God's answer, then it would seem that it should have focused, not on Job's ignorance of the operations of nature, but on his ignorance of himself.

     [47].  42:2.  The Qumran Targum has an interesting variant at this point: "I know that you are able to do all, and power and wisdom are unlimited for you."  See the Anchor Job, p. 349.  This explicitly affirms both omnipotence and omniscience, whereas the Masoretic Text is explicit only about omnipotence.

     [48].  Leviathan xxxi, ¶5, pp. 235-6 in the Hackett edition.  If it is possible to translate 41:11 as in the RSV ("Who has given to me that I should repay him?  Whatever is under the whole heaven is mine."), the Ash`arite/Calvinist/Hobbesian reading would be very strongly confirmed, but there seems to be no consensus about that translation.

     [49].  My agreement with Strauss is only of a general, methodological kind.  So far as I can see, he is never explicit about the nature of Maimonides' esoteric teaching regarding providence.  See "The Literary Character of the Guide..." pp. 50-51, in Maimonides: a collection of critical essays, ed. by Joseph Buijs, U of Notre Dame P, 1988, and "How to Begin to Study the Guide..." pp. liv-lv, in the Pines edition of the Guide.  As Fox remarks somewhere, Strauss' discussion to Maimonides seems itself to be an instance of esoteric writing, as well as a discussion of it.

     [50].  "The Literary Character..." p. 48.  I would not, however, hold that the Ash`arite view is one which occurs only once in the Guide.  It seems to me to surface also in III, 53, where Maimonides writes that "every benefit that comes from Him... is called hesed," i.e., an act of "beneficence toward one who has no right at all to claim this from you." (p. 631/392) I take this to imply that God cannot be under any obligation to man.

     [51].  First published in Spanish, in Frankfurt, and subsequently in Latin.  My page references are to the English translation by E. H. Lindo, London, 1842, 2 vols.

     [52].  Maimonides does allude to Job's denial of the resurrection, pointing out that some of the sages of the Talmud accused Job of blasphemy because of it. (III, 23, p. 492/300) But when he discusses the excuse other sages made for Job ("A man is not to be blamed for what he does when suffering"), he treats this as if the blasphemous opinion to be excused were that God treats the righteous and the wicked equally, and not the denial of the resurrection.  Perhaps Maimonides' avoidance of this issue is one reason why some who denied the resurrection claimed his authority for doing so, in spite of the fact that he had explicitly included the life-to-come as one of the essential articles of Judaic faith.  See Maimonides' Essay on Resurrection, in Crisis and Leadership: Epistles of Maimonides, tr. by Abraham Halkin, comment by David Hartman, Jewish Publication Society, 1985, p. 217.

     [53].  This is how Manasseh characterizes Bildad's position, II, p. 41.  When Maimonides describes Bildad's position, he does not claim (nor would the text he cites permit him to claim) that the compensation is in the afterlife.

     [54].  See the Goodman ed., p. 155: "God foreknew that the angels would never disobey Him, and it is not possible for what contravenes His foreknowledge to take place.  For if things were to take place contrary to what we have supposed, God would have foreknown that instead."

                In the Guide III, 24, Maimonides considers the notion of a trial, though in connection with the Abraham‑Isaac story, not the story of Job. He finds that to be the strongest scriptural case for the theory that God sends calamities to an individual, without their having been preceded by sin, in order that the individual's reward might be increased.  He agrees with Saadiah that God's foreknowledge precludes conducting a trial so that God will know the individual's virtue.  On his account, the purpose of Abraham’s trial was that the people of the religious community should know what the love and fear of God require of them, and that they must take a prophetic revelation as true even if it comes to them in a dream or vision.

                I suppose Maimonides might say something analogous about Job.  The first purpose seems relevant, even if the second is not.  But it seems a harder thing to say in the case of Job than in the case of Abraham.  The way the story of Abraham is usually told at least, Abraham did not have to sacrifice Isaac; he had only to show himself willing to do so.  So he does not actually have to suffer the loss of his only son, whom he loves.  But Job has to suffer all the calamities the Satan had planned for him.  If this is to show the community what the love and fear of God require of you ‑ that you should remain loyal to God no matter how he treats you ‑ that may be counterproductive, generating more doubt than piety.

                Both Saadiah and Maimonides assume that God has what later came to be called "middle knowledge," i.e., knowledge of counterfactual conditionals in which the consequent describes the free actions of God's creatures, such as "If David stayed in Keilah, Saul would besiege the city." (The example comes from 1 Samuel 23:1‑14.) Middle knowledge is controversial.  Robert Adams denies that God has it, essentially because he doesn't understand what the truth conditions for such counterfactuals would be. (See his "Middle Knowledge and the Problem of Evil," American Philosophical Quarterly, 14(1977):109‑117.)  I think the Saadian‑Maimonidean intuition that God must have middle knowledge is sound, and have argued this in a paper-in-progress called “Some Problems about the Coherence of (Christian) Theism.”

     [55].  II, p. 41.  Manasseh is referring here, not to anything Maimonides says in the Guide, but to the position he takes on the resurrection in the Essay on Resurrection, pp. 225-227.  Saadiah deals with Job 7:9 in a similar way (Goodman ed., p. 209).

     [56].  Lindo cites the following testimonial from Rees's Cyclopedia:  "This work shews that its Author had a profound and intimate acquaintance with the Old Testament Writings, and it procured for him the esteem and admiration of all the learned, as well Christians as Jews.  It was recommended to the notice of Biblical Scholars by the learned Grotius." (p. vii)

[57] TTP ii, Bruder section 55, Gebhardt edition vol. III, p. 43, ll. 13-19.

[58] This is apparently an insecure inference from the fact that Job lived in the land of Uz. Cf. David Clines: “The name [Uz]…. does not mean that Job necessarily is a foreigner, for most Jews of the exilic period and beyond… lived outside the borders of Israel, and the patriarchs themselves… were almost as often to be found outside the land as within it.  The Book of Job simply does not say whether or not Job is an Israelite.” (Word Biblical Commentary, Job 1-20, p. 10) Nevertheless, Cline also comments that Job’s designation as an inhabitant of Uz “signifies that the action has a horizon which is not peculiarly Israelite… by leaving open the question of his race the book effectively makes his experience transcend the distinction between… Jew and non-Jew.” This would vindicate the point Spinoza is making.

[59] Initiating a controversy which is still going on. See Pope, pp. xlix-l.

     [60].  Leviathan, ch. 33, ¶12, takes the fact that the bulk of Job is written in verse as evidence that the book is not a history, but a philosophical treatise on the problem of evil:  "Verse is no usual style of such as either are themselves in great pain, as Job, or of such as come to comfort them, as his friends, but in philosophy, especially moral philosophy in ancient time, frequent."

 

     [61].  Ecclesiastes 9:1-3, cited twice by Spinoza in the TTP, in vi, 32 (III/87) and in xix, 7 (III/229).  In each case Spinoza accepts the traditional ascription of Ecclesiastes to Solomon.  The former passage also cites Ecclesiastes 3:19-20, denying the immortality of the soul:  "The fate of humans and the fate of animals is the same; as one dies, so dies the other.  They all have the same breath, and humans have no advantage over the animals, for all is vanity..."