If I had called, and he had answered me; yet would I not believe that he had hearkened unto my voice.
All Commentaries on Job 9:16 Go To Job 9
Gregory The Dialogist
AD 604
29. For very often the mind is set on fire with the flame of Divine love, and is uplifted to behold heavenly things and secret mysteries. It is now transported on high, and pierced with full affection, is made strange to things below; but being struck with sudden temptation, the soul which with set purpose had been established erect in God, pierced with arising temptations is bowed low; so that it cannot discern itself, and being held fast between good and evil practices, cannot tell on which side it is strongest. For very often it is brought to this pass, to wonder how it so lays hold of the highest truths, when unlawful thoughts defile it; and again how it admits unlawful thoughts, when the fervour of the Holy Spirit with power transports it above itself. Which alternate motions of thought in the mind being viewed aright by the Psalmist, he exclaims, They mount up to the heaven, they go down again to the depths. [Ps. 107, 26] For we mount up to the heaven, when we enter into the things above, but we go down to the depths, when we are suddenly cast down from the height of contemplation by grovelling temptations. Thus whilst the motions of the mind alternate between vows and vices, too truly they cloud for themselves the certainty of their being heard. Therefore it is rightly said, When I have called and He hath answered me, yet do I not believe that He hath hearkened unto my voice. In that the mind is rendered fearful from its mere changeableness, and by that which it is unwillingly subject to, imagines itself cast off and rejected.
30. It is interesting to observe with what exactness the holy man passes judgment on himself, that the judgments of God may find nought in him to take hold of. For having an eye to his own frailty, he says, How much less shall I answer, and talk in my words with Him? Not relying upon the claims of his own righteousness, but betaking himself to the hope alone of entreating, he adds, Who, though I had any thing righteous, yet would I not answer, but I would make supplication to my Judge. But apprehensive for the very entreaty itself, he adds, And when I have called, and He hath answered me, yet do I not believe that He hath hearkened unto my voice. Why does he shrink with so great apprehension, why does he tremble with such sore misgiving? but that his eye is fixed on the dreadfulness of the Judge, in the last strict reckoning, and not supporting the power of His searching eye, all that he does seems little worth in his account?
