“God alone knows the way to Wisdom,
he knows the exact place to find it.
He knows where everything is on earth,
he sees everything under heaven.
After he commanded the winds to blow
and measured out the waters,
Arranged for the rain
and set off explosions of thunder and lightning,
He focused on Wisdom,
made sure it was all set and tested and ready.
Then he addressed the human race: ‘Here it is!
Fear-of-the-Lord—that’s Wisdom,
and Insight means shunning evil.’ ”
When God Was Still by My Side
029
Job now resumed his response:
“Oh, how I long for the good old days,
when God took such very good care of me.
He always held a lamp before me
and I walked through the dark by its light.
Oh, how I miss those golden years
when God’s friendship graced my home,
When the Mighty One was still by my side
and my children were all around me,
When everything was going my way,
and nothing seemed too difficult.
“When I walked downtown
and sat with my friends in the public square,
Young and old greeted me with respect;
I was honored by everyone in town.
When I spoke, everyone listened;
they hung on my every word.
People who knew me spoke well of me;
my reputation went ahead of me.
I was known for helping people in trouble
and standing up for those who were down on their luck.
The dying blessed me,
and the bereaved were cheered by my visits.
All my dealings with people were good.
I was known for being fair to everyone I met.
I was eyes to the blind
and feet to the lame,
Father to the needy,
and champion of abused aliens.
I grabbed street thieves by the scruff of the neck
and made them give back what they’d stolen.
I thought, ‘I’ll die peacefully in my own bed,
grateful for a long and full life,
A life deep-rooted and well-watered,
a life limber and dew-fresh,
My soul suffused with glory
and my body robust until the day I die.’
“Men and women listened when I spoke,
hung expectantly on my every word.
After I spoke, they’d be quiet,
taking it all in.
They welcomed my counsel like spring rain,
drinking it all in.
When I smiled at them, they could hardly believe it;
their faces lit up, their troubles took wing!
I was their leader, establishing the mood
and setting the pace by which they lived.
Where I led, they followed.”
The Pain Never Lets Up
030
“But no longer. Now I’m the butt of their jokes—young ruffians! whippersnappers!
Why, I considered their fathers
mere inexperienced pups.
But they are worse than dogs—good for nothing,
stray, mangy animals,
Half-starved, scavenging the back alleys,
howling at the moon;
Homeless guttersnipes
chewing on old bones and licking old tin cans;
Outcasts from the community,
cursed as dangerous delinquents.
Nobody would put up with them;
they were driven from the neighborhood.
You could hear them out there at the edge of town,
yelping and barking, huddled in junkyards,
A gang of beggars and no-names,
thrown out on their ears.
“But now I’m the one they’re after,
mistreating me, taunting and mocking.
They abhor me, they abuse me.
How dare those scoundrels—they spit in my face!
Now that God has undone me and left me in a heap,
they hold nothing back. Anything goes.
They come at me from my blind side,
trip me up, then jump on me while I’m down.
They throw every kind of obstacle in my path,
determined to ruin me—
and no one lifts a finger to help me!
They violate my broken body,
trample through the rubble of my ruined life.
Terrors assault me—
my dignity in shreds,
salvation up in smoke.
“And now my life drains out,
as suffering seizes and grips me hard.
Night gnaws at my bones;
the pain never lets up.
I am tied hand and foot, my neck in a noose.
I twist and turn.
Thrown facedown in the muck,
I’m a muddy mess, inside and out.
What Did I Do to Deserve This?
“I shout for help, God, and get nothing, no answer!
I stand to face you in protest, and you give me a blank stare!
You’ve turned into my tormenter—
you slap me around, knock me about.
You raised me up so I was riding high
and then dropped me, and I crashed.
I know you’re determined to kill me,
to put me six feet under.
“What did I do to deserve this?
Did I ever hit anyone who was calling for help?
Haven’t I wept for those who live a hard life,
been heartsick over the lot of the poor?
But where did it get me?
I expected good but evil showed up.
I looked for light but darkness fell.
My stomach’s in a constant churning, never settles down.
Each day confronts me with more suffering.
I walk under a black cloud. The sun is gone.
I stand in the congregation and protest.
I howl with the jackals,
I hoot with the owls.
I’m black-and-blue all over,
burning up with fever.
My fiddle plays nothing but the blues;
my mouth harp wails laments.”
What Can I Expect from God?
031 “I made a solemn pact with myself never to undress a girl with my eyes.
So what can I expect from God?
What do I deserve from God Almighty above?
Isn’t calamity reserved for the wicked?
Isn’t disaster supposed to strike those who do wrong?
Isn’t God looking, observing how I live?
Doesn’t he mark every step I take?
“Have I walked hand in hand with falsehood,
or hung out in the company of deceit?
Weigh me on a set of honest scales
so God has proof of my integrity.
If I’ve strayed off the straight and narrow,
wanted things I had no right to,
messed around with sin,
Go ahead, then—
give my portion to someone who deserves it.
“If I’ve let myself be seduced by a woman
and conspired to go to bed with her,
Fine, my wife has every right to go ahead
and sleep with anyone she wants to.
For disgusting behavior like that,
I’d deserve the worst punishment you could hand out.
Adultery is a fire that burns the house down;
I wouldn’t expect anything I count dear to survive it.
“Have I ever been unfair to my employees
when they brought a complaint to me?
What, then, will I do when God confronts me?
When God examines my books, what can I say?
Didn’t the same God who made me, make them?
Aren’t we all made of the same stuff, equals before God?
“Have I ignored the needs of the poor,
turned my back on the indigent,
Taken care of my own needs and fed my own face
while they languished?
Wasn’t my home always open to them?
Weren’t they always welcome at my table?
“Have I ever left a poor family shivering in the cold
when they had no warm clothes?
Didn’t the poor bless me when they saw me coming,
knowing I’d brought coats from my closet?
“If I’ve ever used my strength and influence
to take advantage of the unfortunate,
Go ahead, break both my arms,
cut off all my fingers!
The fear of God has kept me from these things—
how else could I ever face him?
If Only Someone Would Give Me a Hearing!
“Did I set my heart on making big money
or worship at the bank?
Did I boast about my wealth,
show off because I was well-off?
Was I ever so awed by the sun’s brilliance
and moved by the moon’s beauty
That I let myself become seduced by them
and worshiped them on the sly?
If so, I would deserve the worst of punishments,
for I would be betraying God himself.
“Did I ever crow over my enemy’s ruin?
Or gloat over my rival’s bad luck?
No, I never said a word of detraction,
never cursed them, even under my breath.
“Didn’t those who worked for me say,
‘He fed us well. There were always second helpings’?
And no stranger ever had to spend a night in the street;
my doors were always open to travelers.
Did I hide my sin the way Adam did,
or conceal my guilt behind closed doors
Because I was afraid what people would say,
fearing the gossip of the neighbors so much
That I turned myself into a recluse?
You know good and well that I didn’t.
“Oh, if only someone would give me a hearing!
I’ve signed my name to my defense—let the
Almighty One answer!
I want to see my indictment in writing.
Anyone’s welcome to read my defense;
I’ll write it on a poster and carry it around town.
I’m prepared to account for every move I’ve ever made—
to anyone and everyone, prince or pauper.
“If the very ground that I farm accuses me,
if even the furrows fill with tears from my abuse,
If I’ve ever raped the earth for my own profit
or dispossessed its rightful owners,
Then curse it with thistles instead of wheat,
curse it with weeds instead of barley.”
The words of Job to his three friends were finished.
ELIHU SPEAKS
God’s Spirit Makes Wisdom Possible
032
Job’s three friends now fell silent. They were talked out, stymied because Job wouldn’t budge an inch—wouldn’t admit to an ounce of guilt. Then Elihu lost his temper. (Elihu was the son of Barakel the Buzite from the clan of Ram.) He blazed out in anger against Job for pitting his righteousness against God’s. He was also angry with the three friends because they had neither come up with an answer nor proved Job wrong. Elihu had waited with Job while they spoke because they were all older than he. But when he saw that the three other men had exhausted their arguments, he exploded with pent-up anger.
This is what Elihu, son of Barakel the Buzite, said:
“I’m a young man,
and you are all old and experienced.
That’s why I kept quiet
and held back from joining the discussion.
I kept thinking, ‘Experience will tell.
The longer you live, the wiser you become.’
But I see I was wrong—it’s God’s Spirit in a person,
the breath of the Almighty One, that makes wise human insight possible.
The experts have no corner on wisdom;
getting old doesn’t guarantee good sense.
So I’ve decided to speak up. Listen well!
I’m going to tell you exactly what I think.
“I hung on your words while you spoke,
listened carefully to your arguments.
While you searched for the right words,
I was all ears.
And now what have you proved? Nothing.
Nothing you say has even touched Job.
And don’t excuse yourselves by saying, ‘We’ve done our best.
Now it’s up to God to talk sense into him.’
Job has yet to contend with me.
And rest assured, I won’t be using your arguments!
“Do you three have nothing else to say?
Of
course
you don’t! You’re total frauds!
Why should I wait any longer,
now that you’re stopped dead in your tracks?
I’m ready to speak my piece. That’s right!
It’s my turn—and it’s about time!
I’ve got a lot to say,
and I’m bursting to say it.
The pressure has built up, like lava beneath the earth.
I’m a volcano ready to blow.
I
have
to speak—I have no choice.
I have to say what’s on my heart,
And I’m going to say it straight—
the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
I was never any good at bootlicking;
my Maker would make short work of me if I started in now!”
033
“So please, Job, hear me out, honor me by listening to me.
What I’m about to say
has been carefully thought out.
I have no ulterior motives in this;
I’m speaking honestly from my heart.
The Spirit of God made me what I am,
the breath of God Almighty gave me life!
God Always Answers, One Way or Another
“And if you think you can prove me wrong, do it.
Lay out your arguments. Stand up for yourself!
Look, I’m human—no better than you;
we’re both made of the same kind of mud.
So let’s work this through together;
don’t let my aggressiveness overwhelm you.
“Here’s what you said.
I heard you say it with my own ears.
You said, ‘I’m pure—I’ve done nothing wrong.
Believe me, I’m clean—my conscience is clear.
But God keeps picking on me;
he treats me like I’m his enemy.
He’s thrown me in jail;
he keeps me under constant surveillance.’
“But let me tell you, Job, you’re wrong, dead wrong!
God is far greater than any human.
So how dare you haul him into court,
and then complain that he won’t answer your charges?
God always answers, one way or another,
even when people don’t recognize his presence.
“In a dream, for instance, a vision at night,
when men and women are deep in sleep,
fast asleep in their beds—
God opens their ears
and impresses them with warnings
To turn them back from something bad they’re planning,
from some reckless choice,
And keep them from an early grave,
from the river of no return.
“Or, God might get their attention through pain,
by throwing them on a bed of suffering,
So they can’t stand the sight of food,
have no appetite for their favorite treats.
They lose weight, wasting away to nothing,
reduced to a bag of bones.
They hang on the cliff-edge of death,
knowing the next breath may be their last.
“But even then an angel could come,
a champion—there are thousands of them!—
to take up your cause,
A messenger who would mercifully intervene,
canceling the death sentence with the words:
‘I’ve come up with the ransom!’
Before you know it, you’re healed,
the very picture of health!