Below is
1) an introduction explaining about the interpretation of the Book of Job
2)a brief summery and paraphrase of the commentary that appeared before the book of Job in many Bibles
3) For the intrepid reader, a modernized truncated version of the commentary
For the truly intrepid, you can read the whole thing in its original HERE and HERE.
Part I
The Book of Job has always been read in context. For example, it was traditionally accompanied by what has been called the “legend of Job,” in which superlative patience is indeed Job’s defining trait. The legend may even have come first, with the Book of Job (or at least its poetic diatribes) added later as an angry, satiric subversion. The story of the patient Job was strong enough to lead the early fifth-century commentator Theodore of Mopsuestia to argue against the canonicity of the Book of Job. He thought the now-scriptural account to be a slander on the name of a historical hero.
As Mark Lattimore explains:
“The Testament of Job was among the texts removed from the Apocrypha by Pope Gelasius in the fifth century CE, but it evidently lived on: someone thought it important enough to produce the tenth-century copy that is the earliest surviving manuscript. It remains our fullest exposition of the legend of Job. Many of the details that set it apart from the canonical book are constants in the iconographic tradition of Job, from the royal status of Job and his friends to his experience with worms on a dung heap.*”
James Kugel describes four defining assumptions that shaped the early interpreters’ approach to Scripture:
They assumed that the Bible was a fundamentally cryptic text—that is, when it said A, it often really meant B.
They assumed that the Bible was a book of lessons directed to readers in their own day. It may seem to talk about the past, but it is not fundamentally history; it is instruction.
They assumed that the Bible contained no contradictions or mistakes.
Lastly, they believed that the entire Bible was divinely given, a book in which God speaks directly or through His prophets.
These assumptions are what “made the Bible the Bible.” They explain its enduring status, but also suggest why modern faith in clear, literal meaning has made interpretation more brittle. Approaching Scripture as “cryptic, relevant, perfect, and divinely granted” challenged readers to examine it closely. Every incongruity or repetition—the sort of thing modern readers might call a scribal error—was instead a clue. Meaning was hidden beneath the surface, and any question raised by Scripture had to be answered within Scripture itself, though not necessarily in the same place.
Later traditions changed this approach: the Reformation emphasized that the biblical text speaks unaided; the Enlightenment taught that we could set aside prejudice; Romanticism urged readers to empathize with the author; Fundamentalism treated meaning as literal and univocal; and the New Critics argued that every work of genius is a self-contained world of meaning.
The Alexandrian school, by contrast, focused on the multiple senses of Scripture. The “literal” or “historical” sense—what the words say—was only one layer. The “moral” sense provided models for conduct; the “allegorical” sense revealed Christ or the Church; and the “anagogical” sense disclosed the soul’s journey toward God. In this way, the historical meaning could be deepened—or even overturned.
Lattimore continues:
“The forms in which people encountered Scripture emphasized that it was part of a library of sacred books (biblia, from the Greek plural). Until very recently, it was thought impossible to read unaided. The Bible was never read in a linear way, one book after another, yet its organization remained significant and much discussed. For most of its history, encountering the biblical text on its own was nearly impossible. Scripture differed from merely human literature through its depth of meaning, which demanded elaborate commentary. Manuscripts and early printed editions were often surrounded by so many layers of commentary that the biblical words themselves seemed mere islands in a sea of marginal notes.”
A typical Bible would open Job with a double prologue by Jerome—one on the Septuagint, the other on the Hebrew text—followed by a second exposition, two prefaces by Nicholas de Lyra, and an anonymous addition. Then came the “Prothemata in Job,” based on Gregory the Great’s Moralia. Only after all this did the text itself begin, and even then, progress was slow: pages of commentary might analyze every word of “There was a man in the land of Uz whose name was Job” (1:1).
One manuscript page shows Job’s children feasting as a symbol of the heavenly banquet, supported by an image of Christ gathering the blessed in His mantle. The commentary explains that Job’s sons “are the holy ones who held feasts daily… so they could come to eternal joy and enjoy God forever.” That the children soon die during one of their feasts is beside the point; this is an image of heaven. The number of sons and daughters—seven and three—is what matters, as well as the fact that they feasted daily.
The commentary included in most Bibles was that of Gregory the Great. Gregory urged readers to “put aside the chaff of the history and feed on the grain of mysteries.” The literal sense was a husk concealing deeper truths. For instance, when Job scratches his sores with a potsherd (Job 2:8), Gregory sees at one level a broken shard of pottery with a sharp edge, reminding Job that he too is made of clay. At a deeper, allegorical level, Christ Himself is the one scraping, and also the potsherd—He has taken the “clay of our nature,” hardened by the fire of His Passion, to scrape away sin. Finally, at the moral level, the potsherd represents the severity with which we must examine ourselves, its edge reminding us of our mortality.
Though Gregory’s Moralia in Job is ostensibly about moral life, the allegorical sense is central. Christ’s Passion, not merely His teaching, enables moral transformation. For Gregory, Job is a prophet who prefigures Christ even in his suffering. Allegory is not just a way of reading texts, but a way of reading reality.
When Job curses the day of his birth (Job 3), Gregory insists that he condemns not God but the fallen world. Job cannot literally curse a day that no longer exists; instead, he symbolically longs for the end of mortal existence and the dawning of eternity. The apparent contradictions of the text are deliberate—signs pointing to deeper truths.
Later, Gregory interprets God’s speeches as unveiling the Church’s spiritual army, destined to triumph over Satan and Antichrist. Job learns that even his righteousness cannot save him alone: “What commonly slays a soul more fatally than consciousness of virtue?” For Gregory, the greatest danger is not suffering but tranquility. “Lucky,” he writes, “are those to whom God sends the wake-up call of suffering.” Prosperity may conceal spiritual peril; adversity may reveal divine favor.
This layered reading may seem puzzling to modern minds. After all, God Himself tells us in Job that the friends are wrong—yet Paul quotes Eliphaz approvingly (1 Corinthians 3:19). Gregory explains that, at the historical level, Job’s friends are genuine companions. Their words contain no error in themselves. But at the allegorical level, they represent heresy: those who mix truth and falsehood. A true friend in one sense can symbolize a false teacher in another.
To illustrate this inversion, Gregory recalls David’s sin against Uriah (2 Samuel 11). Historically, David’s act is vile and Uriah’s innocence pure. Allegorically, however, David represents Christ—the “Strong-handed One”—who unites the Law (Bathsheba) to Himself, while Uriah represents the Jewish people, faithful to the letter but blind to the spirit. What is foul in history becomes holy in mystery.
Gregory’s purpose in invoking such shocking reversals is to teach that the Book of Job operates in an “inverted world.” The historical is not to be trusted when it conflicts with the spiritual. Job’s wife, friends, and sufferings all symbolize the fallen human condition. Through suffering, Job “beheld the truth with the eye within” and discerned the darkness of his own humanity, leading him to repentance “in dust and ashes.”
The world is gravely disordered, yet not hopelessly so. Prosperity can be a trap; friendship can conceal heresy. But by threshing out the “historical chaff,” believers can glimpse divine restoration. Even heretics, Gregory says, will ultimately be offered forgiveness, and the Jews, too, will return at the end of days. The sacrifices Job offers for his friends prefigure this reconciliation, and their gifts—sheep and earrings of gold—symbolize obedience, innocence, and humility.
For Gregory, allegory is not decorative poetry but revelation. It shows the true nature of a world where “the grandeur of God flames out, like shining from shook foil.” The Book of Job becomes a guide through suffering toward illumination: a testimony that saving knowledge can be gained only through trial, loneliness, and repentance.
It is not until Calvin that we encounter a reading of Job that resembles the modern approach.
In any case, here a summarized *paraphrase* of what appeared before The Book of Job in many Bibles:
PART II
Brief summary and paraphrase of the preface to the Moralia in Job by St Gregory used in Bibles to introduce Job.
1. On the fourfold sense of Scripture
The words of Holy Scripture are a river both shallow and deep — in which a lamb may walk and an elephant may swim. For it offers simple truths to the simple, yet lofty mysteries to the wise. Some books instruct by open teaching, others lift by hidden allegory; but in the book of blessed Job both are mingled together, so that while the plain words teach the history of patience, the hidden sense reveals the mysteries of the Redeemer.
In Holy Scripture there are four senses — historical, allegorical, moral, and anagogical. By history we learn what was done; by allegory, what is to be believed concerning Christ and His Church; by morality, what is to be done in our own life; and by anagogy, what is to be hoped for in the world to come.
2. The literal and mystical meaning in Job
The blessed Job, who is described as “a man of the land of Uz, simple and upright, fearing God and avoiding evil,” may be taken literally as a real man who endured many afflictions with patience. But in a higher sense he prefigures the Redeemer Himself, who, being made in the likeness of sinful flesh, was yet without sin.
When the devil smites Job’s substance, children, and body, it is a figure of the manifold sufferings of Christ — His disciples scattered, His members persecuted, His flesh wounded. Yet in all these things the devil, though he seems to prevail, is conquered; for even in afflicting he serves the purposes of God.
3. The triple sense to be applied
We must therefore read the book in three ways:
Historically, as the account of a man tried and restored.
Allegorically, as the mystery of Christ and His Church.
Morally, as the example of how each believer may bear adversity.
For Scripture, like a field, yields many fruits: it teaches by history, enlightens by allegory, corrects by morality, and lifts the mind by anagogy.
4. The harmony of the Old and New Testaments
All that is written in the Old Testament finds its fulfillment in the New. The very facts that outwardly belong to the ancient fathers are inwardly figures of Christ. Thus Job’s patience foretells the Passion of our Redeemer; his wife tempting him prefigures the carnal synagogue; his friends disputing, the heretics who wound by false consolations; and his restoration at the end signifies the glory of the resurrection.
5. On Job’s country, name, and character
Job lived in the land of Uz — a name signifying “counsel” or “advice” — because the Church of the Gentiles, which he represents, was long without divine counsel until it received it through faith. His name Job is interpreted “mourning,” for the Redeemer in His passion wept for the dead world. He was called “simple and upright”: simple in intention, upright in action; for the Redeemer was simple in innocence and upright in restoring fallen humanity.
6. On Job’s wealth and household
The wealth and household of Job — his seven sons and three daughters — mystically signify the perfection of the Church: seven denoting spiritual gifts, three denoting faith, hope, and charity. His thousands of sheep and camels, oxen and asses, represent the diversity of the faithful — some contemplative, some active, some strong in preaching, some humble in labor.
7. On Satan’s accusation and God’s permission
The enemy said, “Does Job serve God for nothing?” He accused Job, but through Job he accused all the righteous, suggesting that none serve God freely. Yet God permitted him to tempt, not to destroy, for by the patient endurance of His servant He would confound the enemy. Thus was prefigured the temptation of Christ, whom Satan tempted in the wilderness, yet could not overcome.
8. On the losses of Job
Job lost his wealth and his children, yet said, “The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” Here he foreshadowed Christ, who in His Passion lost the companionship of His disciples and the people He had chosen, yet blessed the Father, saying, “Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit.” The enemy took away outward blessings, but could not rob inward grace.
9. On Job’s bodily affliction
When Job was smitten with sore boils, his body represents the body of Christ suffering in His members, or the Church tormented by persecutions. He sat among ashes — for the humility of the Redeemer descended to the dust of death, and the Church, mourning her sins, sits in penitence.
10. On Job’s wife and friends
Job’s wife tempting him signifies the voice of carnal reason, which persuades to despair: “Curse God and die.” His friends represent false teachers, who under color of consolation utter pride and error. Yet even through their words truth may shine, for Scripture often mingles the sayings of the foolish to prove the wise.
11. On Job’s patience and perfection
Job’s patience is not merely passive endurance but an active contest. He is struck outwardly, yet he conquers within. By not sinning with his lips he silences the adversary. In him we see the victory of grace over temptation. Patience is not weakness but strength restrained; it is the power of love that conquers pain.
12. The dialogue as the image of the Church
When Job’s friends dispute with him, the scene represents the Church’s own debates through the ages. Within her communion there are both the wise and the mistaken, and truth is often refined by contradiction. God allows contention so that faith may be tested, just as gold is proved in fire.
13. The voice of God from the whirlwind
When the Lord answers Job from the whirlwind, He signifies the mystery of the Incarnation. For the divine Word came veiled in mortal flesh, speaking to humanity amid the tempest of its weakness. The same voice which shakes creation gives peace to the heart that listens.
14. On Job’s restoration
Job’s final restoration after trial prefigures the resurrection. His double possession signifies that the reward of the saints shall surpass their former state, for grace abounds where sin had reigned. His renewed offspring symbolize the new generations of the faithful born of the Church after the Passion of the Lord.
15. The moral pattern of Job’s life
In the moral sense, Job is every righteous soul. His losses are our temptations; his sores, our secret griefs; his friends, the false comforts of worldly wisdom. Yet when the mind keeps faith amid affliction, it becomes richer than before. For outward loss purifies inward love.
16. The triple order of interpretation
Each reader must choose the path suited to grace:
The literal, for beginners;
The moral, for those advancing;
The mystical, for the perfect.
These are not three books but one revelation, rising like steps toward the vision of God.
17. The harmony of divine speech
Scripture never contradicts itself. What seems opposed on the surface unites at the summit. For one and the same Spirit breathes through all its writers. The rough places of the letter are smoothed by the charity of the interpreter.
18. Why Scripture speaks obscurely
The Lord has veiled His mysteries so that love might seek what the intellect cannot at once perceive. Hidden truth, when found, is sweeter; and the toil of searching purifies the heart. The divine Word is like a fountain covered by stone: it invites the humble to lift the weight and drink.
19. The necessity of contemplation and action
No one understands Job who is idle. As faith without works is dead, so study without obedience is vain. We must learn with the mind and practise with the life, joining Martha’s service to Mary’s contemplation. Then the wound of trial becomes the school of wisdom.
20. On divine and human speech
When God speaks, He enlightens; when man speaks rightly, it is God who speaks in him. Thus the author of the commentary must pray before he writes, lest his words be his own and not the Lord’s. To teach without prayer is to draw water from a dry well.
21. The humility required of interpreters
The deeper the mysteries, the humbler should be the expositor. Let him remember that even the greatest prophets saw only in part. Whoever exalts himself above Scripture falls beneath it; whoever bows beneath it is lifted up by it.
22. The usefulness of the literal sense
Some, loving allegory, despise the letter. But the literal sense is the foundation of all others; if it be removed, the spiritual building falls. Therefore first learn what the text says, then ascend to what it means. History leads us to mystery as the body bears the soul.
23. On allegory
In allegory the facts of the past reveal the mysteries of Christ. Egypt signifies the world; Israel, the faithful; Pharaoh, the devil; the Red Sea, baptism; the desert, temptation; the promised land, eternal life. So too, in Job, every circumstance speaks of the Redeemer’s passion and the Church’s pilgrimage.
24. On the moral sense
The moral sense applies the Scripture to ourselves. What Job endured outwardly we endure inwardly; what he overcame in body we must overcome in soul. The sores of the flesh are the vices of the heart; the scraping of the potsherd is the correction of repentance.
25. On the anagogical sense
The anagogical lifts us from earth to heaven, teaching what we are to hope for. Job’s final vision of God “with his eyes” prefigures the beatific vision promised to the pure in heart. Thus Scripture begins with conduct and ends in contemplation.
26. On the unity of Scripture and the Incarnate Word
All Scripture is one book, and that one book is Christ. Because He is the Word of God, every word of God speaks of Him. In Job wounded we see Christ suffering; in Job restored we see Christ glorified; in Job praying for his friends we see Christ interceding for His persecutors.
27. Why the righteous suffer
The good are often scourged in this life that they may be spared in the next. Their pain is medicine, not punishment. The wicked flourish because their reward is only here. Thus adversity is the sign of adoption; whom the Lord loves, He chastens.
28. On divine pedagogy
God teaches us as a physician, not as an enemy. He wounds to heal, troubles to teach. Job’s sores are the lessons of divine wisdom; each stripe reveals a virtue. The school of suffering is the mother of saints.
29. The end of all interpretation
The aim of every exposition is charity. Knowledge without love puffs up; love builds up. To know the words of Job is little; to imitate his patience is much; to love his Redeemer is all. When study ends in love, it fulfills both law and prophets.
30. Doxology and conclusion
Therefore, as we begin this work, we implore the same Lord who opened the mind of Job to open ours also, that He who spoke by the wounds of His servant may speak by the words of our weakness. To Him be glory who lives and reigns for ever. Amen.
PART III
A modernized truncated version.
📖 The Preface of Saint Gregory the Great to the Morals on the Book of Job
There are some books of Holy Scripture which are written in a plain style, and others in a more obscure. The plain convey instruction to the simple; the obscure exercise the intellect of the wise. Some, by the mere sound of their words, soothe the ear of the flesh; others, by their mysterious depth, pierce the heart with fear. The one sort speak what is easily understood; the other, what must be searched out with labour. But the book of blessed Job is full of both. In it the history is clear, yet the meaning profound; the words are plain, yet the mysteries hidden.
For, when it is related that this man, being just, was afflicted, the open history instructs us how the righteous should be exercised by adversity. But when the same Job is understood to represent the Redeemer, who, being made in the likeness of sinful flesh, yet was without sin, the allegory displays to us the mystery of His Passion. Thus, while the history teaches one thing and the allegory another, both together build us up in faith and patience.
Yet it must be known that all Scripture, which is divinely inspired, while it relates certain things as done, declares others prophetically to be done, or figuratively represents others as to be done. For it records history, while it opens mystery; it narrates what is past, while it prefigures what is future. Hence it is rightly called a river both shallow and deep — in which a lamb may walk and an elephant may swim. For it is both plain and profound, simple in words yet marvellous in meaning.
Therefore, in this sacred book, let the literal sense instruct, the allegorical uplift, and the moral guide. For, as there are three kinds of knowledge — history, allegory, and morals — so there are three ways by which the Scripture nourishes the soul. By the history, the mind is informed; by the allegory, it is illuminated; by the moral, it is instructed how to act.
Hence also the Apostle Paul, writing to the Corinthians, says of the Law, All these things happened to them in figure; and they are written for our admonition, upon whom the ends of the world are come. For what was done outwardly in the ancient fathers is inwardly fulfilled in us. The same facts are both events in time and figures of truth.
Thus Job, a man of the land of Uz, simple and upright, fearing God and eschewing evil, may be considered historically as one who truly lived and endured many sorrows with patience; but mystically he represents the person of the Redeemer. For as the Lord, though sinless, was tried by the temptations of the devil, so Job, though just, was afflicted by him. The devil smote Job’s goods, his children, and his body, but could not touch his soul; for the Redeemer likewise was scourged in the flesh, but His divine nature the enemy could not wound.
Yet there is this difference: the Lord overcame temptation by His own power, Job by the grace of the Redeemer. For He who by His own strength conquered the tempter is the same who, by His grace, made Job victorious. Therefore, while Job’s patience is his own, the virtue of patience is from above.
But let us see why the Lord permitted His servant to be tempted. It was that his virtue might be made manifest, that the testimony of his righteousness might confound the accuser. For the devil accused Job as serving God for reward, not for love. But by the loss of all things temporal he showed that he served God disinterestedly, saying, The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away: blessed be the name of the Lord.
Herein the Church, too, is figured; for, as Job was afflicted outwardly and blessed inwardly, so the Church is outwardly oppressed and inwardly comforted. Her patience in tribulation proves her love; and by her sufferings she is conformed to her Head, who endured the Cross.
Therefore, in expounding this book, we must always bear in mind that while it narrates one man’s trial, it proclaims the sufferings of the whole Body of Christ; that it speaks of a single person, yet mystically sets forth the one Mediator between God and men.
Since then Holy Scripture, while it recounts past events, foretells also what is future, and discloses the mysteries of the present, it must needs be expounded in all these ways. For some passages are to be taken historically, others allegorically, others morally; that by history we may know what has been done, by allegory what we are to believe, by morals what we are to practise.
Yet these three senses are not severed from one another, because the same sentence of Scripture, while it relates a fact, often contains a mystery and conveys instruction for life. Thus the same light, striking different mirrors, is reflected in many directions without being divided in itself.
But there are certain passages in which the history alone must be attended to; others, where the moral alone is intended; others again, where the mystical only is designed. Yet frequently the same words embrace all these senses at once, as in that saying of Solomon, Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise. For here the history teaches how the ant stores her food; the moral bids us imitate her forethought; and the allegory shows the Church, which in this present life gathers spiritual grain against the winter of judgment.
Hence it is that Divine Scripture, while it utters things humble, lifts up the soul by hidden meanings; and while it describes earthly works, it opens heavenly mysteries. The literal sense presents the shell; the allegory discloses the kernel; the moral applies the fruit to nourishment.
It must be observed also that the same words, when understood in diverse ways, yield not contrary but harmonious meanings. For as the strings of a harp, though struck in different notes, produce one melody, so the several senses of Scripture, distinct yet concordant, sound forth one praise of God.
Wherefore, in this book, we must diligently attend to each sense. Historically, Job is described as afflicted that we may learn patience; allegorically, he prefigures the Redeemer; morally, he instructs every just man how to bear adversity. In all alike, the Spirit of God breathes one truth under many forms.
But because the mysteries of God are hidden from the proud and revealed to the humble, the more obscure any passage is, the more reverently must it be sought. For obscurity is not the fault of Scripture, but the safeguard of its majesty. It veils the divine light, as clouds veil the sun, that our weak eyes may not be blinded but gradually enlightened.
Hence the Lord says by Isaiah, I will give thee the treasures of darkness, and hidden riches of secret places. For the more the words of God are dark to us, the more precious they are when understood; and what is found with labour is held with love. Therefore let no one complain that the words of Job are obscure, for by this very obscurity they train the soul to humility and to faith.
For often the mind, by meditation on difficult things, is lifted above itself, and in seeking to comprehend what is beyond, learns to adore what it cannot comprehend. Thus the obscurity of Scripture is itself a kind of teaching: it leads us from curiosity to reverence.
Moreover, in divine things the way to understanding is through obedience. For he who will learn the mysteries of God must first practise His commandments. The knowledge of the truth is given to those who live it. Therefore it is written, They that do the will of God shall know of the doctrine. And again, If any man will do His will, he shall know whether the doctrine be of God. So, the more one is humble and obedient, the clearer light he receives from the words of God.
Let every expositor therefore remember that when he opens the Scriptures he enters the courts of heaven. There the voices of the prophets and apostles resound; there the very speech of the Lord is heard. If then he would not speak folly in so great a presence, let him first cleanse his heart by humility, and then presume to utter what he understands. For no one can safely teach what he has not first learned in prayer.
Some, delighting in the splendour of eloquence, desire rather to be admired than to edify. But the Word of God seeks not ornament of style, but purity of affection. The preacher should aim, not that his hearer may praise his speech, but that he may mourn for his sins. Therefore Paul, though learned, said, My speech and my preaching was not with enticing words of man’s wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power.
Hence it often happens that one who cannot speak elegantly moves hearts more effectually than he who adorns his words; because the latter strives to please, the former to profit. The power of the Word lies not in the beauty of language, but in the virtue of the truth. A humble sentence, spoken with charity, pierces more deeply than a subtle argument uttered with pride.
Yet though eloquence is not to be sought, it may be used if it be given; but let it serve, not rule. Let it be as a servant in the house, not as mistress of the household; that by it the hearer may be led to love, not the preacher, but the Word of God.
Let no one think that he understands the Scriptures because he can speak of them; for the true understanding lies in doing them. He knows the Word who keeps it. Hence the Lord says, He that hath My commandments and keepeth them, he it is that loveth Me. Knowledge without obedience is like a tree without fruit: fair in leaves, barren in substance.
When the righteous are scourged, let them remember that Job was scourged; when they are exalted, let them remember that Job was exalted. For in his story both prosperity and adversity are displayed, that in whatever state we are, we may find example for our own. The prosperity of Job teaches us to use the world without cleaving to it; his adversity, to bear the world without despairing.
For God disciplines those whom He loves; He afflicts that He may instruct. Therefore, when the hand of the Lord is heavy upon us, let us not murmur, but reflect that by stripes He cures our wounds. The physician cuts that he may heal; the husbandman prunes that he may cause fruit. So the Lord wounds to save, humbles to raise, kills to make alive.
In the example of Job, then, the life of the righteous is mirrored. For every just man, when smitten by calamity, becomes as Job; he loses what he had, yet keeps himself; he is stripped of outward things, yet inwardly is enriched; he laments, yet blesses; he is silent under wrong, yet prays for the wrongdoers. Thus in him patience is crowned, pride is slain, and the adversary confounded.
The end of all interpretation is charity; for the Scripture was written that we might love God and our neighbour. Whatever knowledge does not kindle love is barren. Let him therefore who studies Job learn patience, humility, and compassion. For to understand the sufferings of Job is to imitate his virtues.
And now, having said these things by way of introduction, we commit the work to the mercy of Almighty God, who by His own Spirit has deigned to inspire both the words of Scripture and the desire of interpreting them. May He open our understanding, that what is obscure may be made clear; may He grant that the same Spirit who spake by Job may speak by us; and that, as we set forth the example of his patience, we ourselves may be made partakers of his reward. To Him be glory for ever and ever. Amen.
