Job: If My Grief Were Weighed
1 Then Job answered, 2 “Oh that my anguish were weighed, and all my calamity laid in the balances! 3 For now it would be heavier than the sand of the seas, therefore my words have been rash. 4 For the arrows of the Almighty are within me. My spirit drinks up their poison. The terrors of God set themselves in array against me. 5 Does the wild donkey bray when he has grass? Or does the ox low over his fodder? 6 Can that which has no flavor be eaten without salt? Or is there any taste in the white of an egg? 7 My soul refuses to touch them. They are as loathsome food to me. 8 “Oh that I might have my request, that God would grant the thing that I long for, 9 even that it would please God to crush me; that he would let loose his hand, and cut me off! 10 Let it still be my consolation, yes, let me exult in pain that doesn’t spare, that I have not denied the words of the Holy One. 11 What is my strength, that I should wait? What is my end, that I should be patient? 12 Is my strength the strength of stones? Or is my flesh of bronze? 13 Isn’t it that I have no help in me, that wisdom is driven away from me? 14 “To him who is ready to faint, kindness should be shown from his friend; even to him who forsakes the fear of the Almighty. 15 My brothers have dealt deceitfully as a brook, as the channel of brooks that pass away; 16 which are black by reason of the ice, in which the snow hides itself. 17 In the dry season, they vanish. When it is hot, they are consumed out of their place. 18 The caravans that travel beside them turn away. They go up into the waste, and perish. 19 The caravans of Tema looked. The companies of Sheba waited for them. 20 They were distressed because they were confident. They came there, and were confounded. 21 For now you are nothing. You see a terror, and are afraid. 22 Did I ever say, ‘Give to me’? or, ‘Offer a present for me from your substance’? 23 or, ‘Deliver me from the adversary’s hand’? or, ‘Redeem me from the hand of the oppressors’? 24 “Teach me, and I will hold my peace. Cause me to understand my error. 25 How forcible are words of uprightness! But your reproof, what does it reprove? 26 Do you intend to reprove words, since the speeches of one who is desperate are as wind? 27 Yes, you would even cast lots for the fatherless, and make merchandise of your friend. 28 Now therefore be pleased to look at me, for surely I will not lie to your face. 29 Please return. Let there be no injustice. Yes, return again. My cause is righteous. 30 Is there injustice on my tongue? Can’t my taste discern mischievous things?
Job asks to be measured before he is judged, and describes friends who failed the way a summer streambed fails a caravan.
The answer opens with a request for a scale. Oh that my anguish were weighed, and all my calamity laid in the balances! Job 6:2.
That is the fairest thing anyone asks for in the book. Eliphaz had reproved his words; Job's reply is that words are proportional to what produced them, and that nobody has yet measured what produced these. He concedes the charge in the same breath — therefore my words have been rash Job 6:3 — and asks that the rashness be weighed against the load.
He then names the source, and it is not the Sabeans. The arrows of the Almighty are within me. My spirit drinks up their poison Job 6:4. He has no doubt where the affliction came from, and no information about why.
The two homely questions that follow are an argument about noise. A donkey does not bray over good grass; an ox does not low over full fodder Job 6:5. Animals complain when something is wrong, so complaint is evidence rather than a fault, and a man reproved for crying out is being reproved for the wrong thing.
What he asks for is death, and the terms are precise. Not release, not relief — that it would please God to crush me; that he would let loose his hand, and cut me off Job 6:9.
The reason given is the strangest sentence in the chapter and the most revealing. He would exult in pain that doesn't spare, on one condition: that I have not denied the words of the Holy One Job 6:10.
He wants to die while he is still holding on. He can feel his endurance running out, and what frightens him is not the pain but outliving his own integrity. Without knowing it, he has named exactly what is at stake in the wager, and he wants the trial ended before he loses it.
The complaint against the friends is then delivered in a single extended image. They are a brook that runs black with ice and melting snow in the cold season and vanishes when the heat comes Job 6:15–17. Caravans that plan their route by it turn away into the waste and perish; they arrive because they were confident, and are confounded Job 6:18–20.
The cruelty in it is exact. A dry wadi kills nobody who was not counting on it. Friends who were never expected to help would have done no harm; these men were relied on, and the reliance is what did the damage.
His actual request has been modest throughout, and he lists what he never asked for: money, a gift, rescue from an enemy Job 6:22–23. What he asks for instead is instruction. Teach me, and I will hold my peace. Cause me to understand my error Job 6:24.
That offer stands open for the rest of the book and is never taken up. Nobody tells him what he did.
settled What this mark means