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JOB C1 C2 C3 C4 C5 C6 C7 C8 C9 C10 C11 C12 C13 C14 C15 C16 C17 C18 C19 C20 C21 C22 C23 C24 C25 C26 C27 C28 C29 C30 C31 C32 C33 C34 C35 C36 C37 C38 C39 C40 C41

Moff JOB Chapter 15

◄ JOB 15 ► ║ ═ ©

15 Then Eliphaz the Temanite replied:

“Would any man of sense argue so wildly,

or make himself a windbag?

Would he talk on, to no profit,

with words that serve no purpose?

You undermine religion,

with your threatening of God;

it is your sin inspiring you to speak,

to choose your ground so cunningly.

Were you the first man to be born?

Are you older than the hills?

Are you a member of God’s inner council?

Have you made divine wisdom all your own?

Do you know anything we do not know?

What lore is yours that is not ours?

Grey hairs and age are on our side,

men older far than your own father.

The divine comfort that we bring, you slight,

these words of ours that deal with you so gently?

Why let your passions carry you away?

Why do your eyes flash proudly?

You are convicted out of your own mouth;

your own lips prove--not I--

that you turn angrily on God,

and talk rebelliously.

What is man? how should he be clean?

Man born of woman, how should he be pure?

Even on his angels God cannot rely,

the very heavens are stained to him;

and how much more a loathsome, tainted creature,

a man who gulps down wickedness like water.'

Listen, let me tell you this,

let me relate what I have learned--

a truth that wise men handed down,

imparted to them by their fathers,

who had the land all to themselves,

untainted by a foreigner.

‘The bad man suffers torment all his life,

through all the years he has to work his will.

Terrors are always sounding in his ears;

some plunderer will break his peace, he fears;

Of lasting through the dark hour, he despairs--

sure that his doom is fixed,

to be the vulture’s prey,

to perish by the sword;

the dark days terrify him,

anguish and agony overpower him.

For he challenged God,

he matched himself against the Almighty,

26 charging at him haughtily,

behind stout bossed shields--

so swollen in prosperity,

so bloated in his wealth.

He rebuilt ruined cities for himself,

places that no man ought to dwell in.

But what he won he cannot keep,

the harvest of his gain he cannot reap.

His branches wither in the heat,

his fruit is whirled off by the wind;

his boughs fade all too soon,

before their fronds are green;

he drops his unripe clusters like a vine,

he sheds his blossoms like an olive.

For the godless are a barren tribe,

and fire destroys the men who bribe;

big with mischief, they bear mischief--

disappointment--for themselves!’ ”

16 Then Eyob replied:

“Often have I heard you talk like that already--

plaguy comforters that you are!

Will your own windy speeches never end?

What ails you that you will be answering me?

I could talk as you talk,

if you were in my place;

I could string strictures upon you,

and toss my head in scorn;

I could talk courage to you,

would not spare the language of compassion!

I would not spare my pity if I spoke;

even were I silent, I would pity still!

Here is God wearing me out, dazing me!

My misery shrivels me up;

my gauntness proves my guilt,

it is an open evidence against me!

He flings me down and rends me in his rage,

he shows his teeth at me.

When I was happy, he, he crushed me,

he caught me by the neck and mangled me.

He set me up to be his target,

his arrows rain upon me,

piercing my vitals without pity,

till my entrails ooze out on earth.

Breach after breach he makes upon my walls,

he storms me with a warrior’s rush.

I have stitched sackcloth on my skin,

and bowed my glory to the dust;

my face is flushed with tears,

my eyes are dimmed,

though I have done no wrong,

although my life is innocent.

Cover not up my blood, O earth!

let the cry of it go wandering through the world!

Yet even already heaven has a witness for me,

and there is One on high to vouch for me.

My friends deride me,

but my tears turn to God in prayer,

that he would plead for man against Himself,

and vindicate a man against his friends!

Come but a few years more,

and I go, never to return;

my strength and time are spent,

and the grave alone is left me.

Illusions are indeed my lot;

I face the bitter mockery of life.

Give me a pledge that thou thyself will act;

who else would undertake my cause against thee?

Thou has made me a byword in the world;

men look upon me like a monster--

like one who bids friends to a feast,

and lets his children starve!

My eyes are dimmed with weeping,

my limbs worn to a shadow;

my days pass in despair,

my heart is broken;

night is a day to me,

and light is darkness;

all I can hope for is a home below,

to make my bed in the darkness of death,

to call the tomb ‘my mother,’

to call the worm ‘my sister’!

Where, where is any bliss for me?

oh where can I see any hope?

Bliss and hope sink with me below;

we go down to the grave together.”

“Will you keep quiet?

silence! and let us speak.

Are we to be treated like beasts?

Think you, we are dumb cattle?

Good men are horrified at you,

and honest men provoked by your impiety.

Nevertheless the upright shall not falter;

a stainless soul grows ever stronger.

See here, you angry creature,

tearing yourself to pieces in your rage!--

is the world to go to wrack and ruin,

are things to be upset, because of you?

No, the light of an evil man is quenched,

his fires shall fail,

the light in his home shall be dark,

the lamp over his head goes out;

his stride is checked,

his own plots make him slip;

he strangles himself in a net,

and sprawls within its meshes,

his heels are caught in a snare,

and the trap closes on him tight,

a noose lies hid for him upon the ground,

a pitfall on his path.

Terrors surround and startle him,

they chase him at his heels;

ruin is ravenous for him,

disaster only waits for him to stumble.

Sickness gnaws at his skin,

deadly disease eats away his limbs.

He shall be dragged from his security,

and haled before the king of terrors.

His home shall be infested with disease,

and brimstone shall be scattered on his homestead.

His roots shall be dried up below him,

his boughs shall wither overhead.

His memory shall vanish from the land;

he leaves no name on earth.

He shall be driven from light into the dark,

and chased out of the world.

He shall leave neither son nor scion;

not one remains in the old home.

His fate astounds the west,

appals the east.

21 So fares a godless home,

so fares the man who has no care for God.”

19 Then Eyob answered:

“How long will you harrow my soul,

and crush me with your words?

Time and again you have taunted me,

you have wronged me shamelessly.

Supposing I have sinned,

does my sin concern you?

Are you to lord it over me,

and to reproach me with my misery?

Understand, it is God who has undone me,

spreading his nets around me.

I cry out ‘Murder’!--there is no reply;

I call for help, and get no justice.

He has blocked up my road,

he has darkened my path,

he has stripped me of honour,

he has degraded me,

he has demolished me,

and torn my hope up by the roots;

he has flamed in wrath at me,

treating me as a foe;

on his troops come, in a swarm,

bent on besieging me!

My clansmen have abandoned me,

my friends are all estranged,

my kinsmen will not own me,

and my guests ignore me;

maids of mine treat me like a stranger,

to them I am an alien;

my serf will not obey my orders,

I have humbly to entreat him;

my breath is loathsome to my very wife,

my smell is hateful to my children;

even young lads despise me,

when I draw near they run away;

all my intimates detest me,

men I love turn against me.

My skin is clinging to my bones,

my teeth are falling out.

Have pity on me, O my friends, have pity,

for God’s own hand has struck me.

Why persecute me like God,

as if no slander were enough for you?

Oh that my defence were written,

oh that my case could be preserved in writing,

cut with an iron pen on lead,

or lastingly engraved on stone!

Still, I know One to champion me at last,

to stand up for me upon earth.

This body may break up, but 26 even then

my life shall have a sight of God;

my heart is pining as I yearn

to see him on my side,

see him estranged no longer.

O you who think to run me down,

to blame me for my sufferings,

beware of your false charges!

Such slanders call for God’s own sword,

to teach you impious men what the Almighty is.”

20 Zophar the Minaean answered:

“Now this does rouse my soul,

my heart is stirred,

to listen to your insults and excuses--

an empty answer to my arguments!

Know you not that from of old,

ever since man was in the world,

the sinner never sings for long,

and godless men have shortlived joy?

Though he may tower in triumph to the skies,

although his head may touch the very clouds,

he shall be swept away like his own dung,

till those who knew him ask, ‘Where is he?’

He disappears like a dream--no trace of him--

he vanishes like a vision of the night;

when manly vigour fills his frame,

he and his manly vigour go to dust;

he leaves his children poor,

his sons have to disgorge his plunder.

Though sin is a sweet morsel in his mouth,

though he rolls it under his tongue,

loth to let it go,

keeping it still on his palate,

yet the food turns to venom in his stomach,

to the poison of asps;

asps shall sting him with their tongues,

and he sucks in poison.

He has to vomit the wealth he has swallowed;

God makes him eject it.

He shall not feed on milk from the meadows,

on honey or on butter from the pastures;

his swelling hoards bring him no happiness,

he has no joy, for all his trafficking.

As he was hard upon the poor,

and seized on houses that he never built,

as his greed knew no pause,

he shall not save one thing that he desired;

as nothing ever escaped his grasp,

his own. prosperity shall not last;

for all his wealth, he finds himself in straits,

exposed to the full force of misery.

God lets his anger loose at him,

and rains on him his wrath!

He flies from men in iron mail,

and is shot down by a bow of bronze;

the arrow comes out at his back,

the point driven through his entrails;

death’s terrors close on him,

deep darkness is his doom.

A fire that no man lit consumes him,

burning up all he leaves at home;

his well-stored house is swept to ruin,

accursed in the day of wrath divine.

Heaven lays bare his guilt,

earth rises to denounce him.

This is what God bestows upon a sinner,

this is what God awards a godless man.”

21 Eyob replied:

“Attend to what I urge; “

it will console me, if you only listen!

Pray let me have my say;

and after I have spoken, mock away!

It is not against man that I complain;

so why should I be patient?

See here! let this astound you,

awe you into silence!--

when I think of it, I am all aghast,

I am seized with shuddering.

Why do wicked men live on,

live to be old and strong?

Their homes are safe from fear;

God’s rod never strikes them.

Their bulls breed without fail,

their cows calve safely.

They see their family flourishing,

their eyes rest on their offspring;

their children flock out to the fields,

boys and girls dancing merrily.

They sing to the lyre and tambourine,

make merry to the music of the pipe;

they lead a prosperous life,

die in peace--

men who bade God, ‘Begone from us;

we have no interest in thee and thine!

Why should we serve the Almighty?

What is the good of us praying to him?’

(--to him who fills them 18 with prosperity!

Far be such impious thoughts from me!)

Are they not masters of their fortunes?

Does God concern himself with what they scheme?

How often does he extinguish evil men?

Tell me how often calamity befalls them!

How often does God rack them in his anger?

How often are they mere straws before the wind,

chaff swept before the storm?

‘God,’ you say, ‘punishes the children for it’?

Better he made the men themselves feel punishment!

The evil man should witness his own ruin,

and drink the Almighty’s anger for himself.

What interest has he in his family,

once his own span of life is snapped?

Does God draw any difference between men?

In high heaven is he governing this world?

Why, one man dies, robust and hale,

in full peace and prosperity;

his powers are full and fresh,

his health is sound.

Another man dies, brokenhearted,

and never gets the good of life.

Both lie down in the dust together,

and worms swarm over both of them.

I know what you are thinking,

I know the cruel wrong you do me.

Why offer me your idle consolations,

when all you urge is false?

‘What of the tyrant’s house?’ you ask,

‘where are the dwellings of evil men?’

Well, talk to travellers,

learn what they have to tell:

of how an evil man is spared calamity,

how he goes scatheless from the wrath of God.

Who ever tells him plainly what 31 he is?

Who ever punishes him for his misdeeds?

No, he is carried to a stately grave,

and all men follow his great funeral;

quiet he lies amid the clods,

and well his tomb is cared for.”

22 Then Eliphaz the Temanite replied:

“Can man offer God any insight,

so that a sage should be of use to him?

Has the Almighty any interest in your goodness?

Does he gain by your blameless life?

Why should he punish you for your religion,

and pass sentence on you?

Grave must your guilt be,

endless your sins.

You have fleeced your fellows selfishly,

and stripped your debtors to the skin;

you have not given the weary any water,

the hungry you have starved;

you have sent widows away empty-handed,

you have been oppressing orphans,

to let the powerful hold the land,

to let squires settle down.

Therefore it is that snares close on you,

and panic fear is scaring you;

therefore has your light turned to darkness,

and floods have overwhelmed you.

Is not God high in heaven?

Does he not look down on the topmost star?

And yet you say, ‘God never notices!

Can he rule through the darkness dense?

He moves on the high vault of heaven;

he cannot see us for the clouds that veil him.’

Is that the line you choose,

the line that evil men took long ago?

They came to an untimely end;

when the floods undermined them,

good men rejoiced to see their fate,

and over them the guiltless jeered,

shouting, ‘Our* foes are now effaced,

and what they leave the flames will bum!’

Give way to God, submit to him,

and it will mean prosperity for you;

accept the orders that he issues,

take his words to heart.

If you turn humbly to the Almighty,

and banish evil from your home,

[[if you will throw your treasures to the ground,

and fling your gold of Ophir in the stream,

and make the Almighty himself your treasure,

sound wisdom your wealth,]]

then the Almighty shall be a joy to you,

and you can raise your eyes to God;

when you pray, he will answer you,

and then you can fulfil your vows to him;

whatever you plan shall prosper,

and you shall live in sunshine;

for he humbles haughty upstarts,

and he helps the lowly,

he saves those who are guiltless,

rescuing them for their unspotted record.”

“But my complaint is bit- 2 ter still;

under his heavy hand I lie and moan.

Oh that I knew where to find 3 him,

how to reach his very throne,

and there lay my case before him,

arguing it out to the full!

Fain would I learn what his reply would be,

and understand what he would say to me.

Would he confront me with his 6 almighty power?

No, he would listen to me;

there I might argue with him as one innocent,

and have my judge acquit me for all time.

But I go forward, and he is not there;

backward, and yet I cannot behold him;

I seek him on my left, in vain;

when I turn to the right, I cannot see him.

Yet he knows how I live;

when he tests me, I shall prove sterling gold,

I have kept closely to his footsteps,

never swerving from his path;

I never stray from his commands,

I treasure up his orders.

But who can make him change his mind?

He does whatever he may choose!

So I am cowed before him;

the thought of him dismays me.

For God makes my heart faint,

the Almighty cows me;

I am appalled at his dark mystery,

and its black shadow has bewildered me.

Why has not the AImighty sessions of set justice?

Why do his followers never see him intervening?

Evil men are removing landmarks,

plundering flocks and shepherds,

driving off the orphan’s ass,

seizing the widow’s cow for debt,

tearing the fatherless babe from her breast,

seizing the very infants of the poor for debt,

evicting poor folk, till these 4 humble souls

must hide and huddle away;

they wander like the wild ass in the desert,

roaming in search of food--

for the children have no bread.

They have to steal corn from the fields by night,

and rob the vineyards of the rich;

all night they lie naked, unclad, uncovered from the cold,

drenched by downpour from the hills,

and clinging to rocks for shelter,

till vigour fails them,

and their vital strength is gone.

Gaunt with hunger and with want,

they gnaw herbs in the wold,

gathering saltwort under bushes,

using broom-roots for their fuel.

They grope in waste and desolate places,

driven from the haunts of men--

the hue and cry after them, like thieves!

They live in dark ravines,

in caves and rocks,

grunting among the bushes,

coupling under the scrub,

brainless creatures and base-born,

routed out of the country.

Some have to go bare, sy A unclothed,

hungry while they are harvesting,

pressing the oil between the 11 rows of olives,

thirsty while they crush wine from grapes.

Others evade the daylight,

caring not for the ways of God,

refusing to pursue his paths.

The murderer rises in the dark,

to kill poor folk and helpless;

The groan of victims rises from the town,

and wounded men cry out--

but God pays no heed to the crime.

The adulterer watches for the twilight;

he muffles up his face,

and mutters, ‘Not a soul will see me!’

The thief prowls in the night,

and breaks into houses in the dark;

thieves keep themselves shut up during the day,

they all detest the light;

they choose the midnight as their time,

they are familiar with the ways of darkness.

[[He is swept off by the flood,

a curse lies on his property;

no foot turns to his vineyard,

ruined by drought and heat,

flooded with melting snow.

The streets of his native place forget him,

his greatness is no more remembered,

he is uprooted like a rotten tree,

he who ill-treats the widow,

and pities not her children.]]

Yet God lets them remain alive and strong;

they rise, though they despaired of life;

He lets them rest in safety,

he watches over them!

[[Have patience! they will soon be gone,

brought low and bundled off like all the rest,

lopped like the ears of com.]]

Who can deny it? who can prove I lie,

and show that what I urge is idle talk?”

25 Then Bildad the Shuhite * answered:

“What a help you are to poor God!

What a support to his failing powers!

What wise directions you can give to him,

out of your ample stores of knowledge!

Who helped you to such eloquence?

Who was it that inspired you?

He wields a dread authority,

he keeps the peace within high heaven.

His armies, who can number them?

Whom cannot he surprise and seize?

Then how can man be just before God?

How can a mortal man be pure?

To him the very moon is not unsullied,

the very stars are stained!

How much more that mere maggot, man,

that worm, a mortal man?

Before him the primaeval giants writhe,

under the ocean in their prison;

the underworld lies open to his eyes,

the nether regions are unveiled.

The northern skies he spreads o’er empty space,

and hangs the earth on nothing;

he wraps up water in his clouds,

and the clouds burst not under it;

he veils the face of the full moon,

spreading his cloud over it.

The dome of heaven he arched over the deep,

bounding the darkness from the light;

then swayed the pillars of the sky,

appalled at the thunder of his rebuke;

by his power he quelled the sea,

and by his wisdom he laid low the Dragon;

by his breath the skies were cleared,

and his hand maimed the swift cloud-monster.

And all this is the mere fringe of his force,

the faintest whisper we can hear of him!

Who knows then the full thunder of his power?”

27 Then Eyob again replied:

“As God lives, who has wronged me,

as the Almighty lives, who has embittered me,

I swear I speak the truth,

no lie upon my lips,

when I maintain (by God!) that you are wrong,

when I assert that I am innocent!

For I am sound and sane;

God’s breath is in me.

I hold unflinching to my innocence;

not for one hour need I reproach myself.

• • • • •

You have all seen this for yourselves;

then why vapour so vainly?”

7 Zophar the Minsean replied:

“May my worst enemy fare like the wicked,

may my foe die the death of the unjust!

For what hope has a godless man,

when God demands his soul?

Will God ever listen to his cry,

when woe befalls him?

Will he obtain his wish from 10 the Almighty?

Will the Almighty heed him when he calls?

I can show you how God’s n power works,

I will disclose the dealings of the Almighty.

Here is what God awards an 13 evil man,

what the Almighty bestows upon a tyrant:

if his children grow up, some fall by the sword,

some starve;

his sons are victims of the plague,

their widows cannot wail for them;

he may store silver up like dust,

and prepare robes abundant as the clay;

he may prepare them, but the just shall wear them,

and good men shall divide his silver;

the house he builds is like a spider’s,

flimsy as a watchman’s shelter.

He lies down rich--it is the end!

he opens his eyes, to find that all is over!

Terrors seize him in the day,

a tempest carries him off by night;

an east wind whirls him clean away,

sweeping him from his site.

God pelts him without pity,

though fain he would escape;

God openly derides him,

and hisses scorn at him from heaven.

Where is wisdom to be ey found?

And knowledge, where does it abound?

For silver there are mines,

and places for refining gold;

iron from the earth is taken,

copper smelted out of stones.

Men searched the darkness to its depth,

and in the pitchy gloom for stones they grope;

they run a shaft down, far from daylight,

they hang below, swinging upon a rope.

A harvest comes out of the earth below,

when the miner blasts it underground;

sapphires lie among its stones,

and he picks up lumps of gold;

he falls to work upon the flinty rocks,

he turns hills up by the roots;

he drills a channel in the cliff,

to draw the water off;

he delves for what is rare,

and hidden gems he will unbare.

But where is wisdom to be found?

And knowledge, where does it abound?

No vulture knows the path to it,

no hawk’s eye ever spies it,

no proud beast ever paces it,

no lion moves along it;

not a man knows that path,

in the land of the living none finds it.

The deep says, ‘Not in me!’

The sea says, ‘Not in me!’

No solid gold can purchase wisdom,

no silver can be paid for her;

there is no price for her in gold of Ophir,

in precious beryls or in sapphires;

gold and glass are no match for her,

jewels of gold are no exchange for her;

coral and crystal are not to be mentioned;

wisdom is more precious even than rubies;

the Ethiopian chrysolite is not equal to her,

no weight of gold can be paid down for her.

Where is wisdom to be found?

And knowledge, where does it abound?

For she is hid from every living creature,

even from the eyes of a wild bird.

Death and the underworld declare,

‘We have only heard of her.’

God knows where she is,

God only is aware of her abode;

for he saw to the very ends of earth,

he scanned the whole world under heaven,

when he fixed the forces of the wind,

and measured out the waters,

when he made rules for the rain,

and paths for the lightning flash;

he saw wisdom then, and studied her,

worked with her and proved her.

And he declares to man, ‘For you

to revere me is your wisdom,

to shun evil--that is knowledge!” ’

29 Then Eyob again replied:

2 “Oh to be as once I was in months gone by,

in the days when God was guarding me,

when his lamp shone over my head,

and I could walk by his light through the dark!

Oh to be as I once was in my prime,

when God was kindly sheltering my home,

when the Almighty still was with me,

when my children were about me,

when my farms were a-flow with milk,

and oil gushed from my oil- press!

When I went to the city-council,

and sat down among the burghers,

the youths fell back before me,

seniors rose to their feet,

the nobles ceased to talk,

and held their peace,

the magnates became mute,

and were struck dumb.

Men listened to me carefully,

and silently awaited my advice;

my words fell fresh on them like showers,

they waited for me as for rain,

like the dry clods in spring for rain,

and when I spoke, no one would speak again.

When I smiled, it encouraged them,

my cheerful gaze put heart into the hopeless;

I fixed their policy, I presided there,

commanding as a monarch among men.

Men blessed me when they heard of me,

men owned my worth who saw me;

for I delivered poor men when they cried,

the fatherless and helpless;

perishing people would give me their blessing,

I gladdened the heart of the widow;

I wore the robe of charity and 14 kindness,

my justice was a tunic and a turban;

I was eyes to the blind,

I was feet to the lame,

I was a father to protect the poor,

taking their case up, though it was not mine;

I broke the jaws of any who oppressed,

and forced their fangs to drop their prey.

So I thought, ‘I shall grow old among my brood,

my days shall be like sand for number;

my roots reach to the water,

the dew lies on my branches all the night;

fresh honours fall to me,

I grow in might.’

And now my juniors mock me

men whose sires I would have 1 scorned

to trust with a sheep-dog’s task!

◄ JOB 15 ► ║ ═ ©

JOB C1 C2 C3 C4 C5 C6 C7 C8 C9 C10 C11 C12 C13 C14 C15 C16 C17 C18 C19 C20 C21 C22 C23 C24 C25 C26 C27 C28 C29 C30 C31 C32 C33 C34 C35 C36 C37 C38 C39 C40 C41