Job 2 (MSG). The Second Test: Health 2 1-3 One day when the angels came to report to God, Satan also showed up. God singled out Satan, saying, “And what have you been up to?” Satan answered God, “Oh, going here and there, checking things out.” Then God said to Satan, “Have you noticed my friend Job? There’s no one quite like him, is there—honest and true to his word, totally devoted to God and hating evil? He still has a firm grip on his integrity! You tried to trick me into destroying him, but it didn’t work.” 4-5 Satan answered, “A human would do anything to save his life. But what do you think would happen if you reached down and took away his health? He’d curse you to your face, that’s what.” 6 God said, “All right. Go ahead—you can do what you like with him. But mind you, don’t kill him.” 7-8 Satan left God and struck Job with terrible sores. Job was ulcers and scabs from head to foot. They itched and oozed so badly that he took a piece of broken pottery to scrape himself, then went and sat on a trash heap, among the ashes. 9 His wife said, “Still holding on to your precious integrity, are you? Curse God and be done with it!” 10 He told her, “You’re talking like an empty-headed fool. We take the good days from God—why not also the bad days?” Not once through all this did Job sin. He said nothing against God. Job’s Three Friends 11-13 Three of Job’s friends heard of all the trouble that had fallen on him. Each traveled from his own country—Eliphaz from Teman, Bildad from Shuhah, Zophar from Naamath—and went together to Job to keep him company and comfort him. When they first caught sight of him, they couldn’t believe what they saw—they hardly recognized him! They cried out in lament, ripped their robes, and dumped dirt on their heads as a sign of their grief. Then they sat with him on the ground. Seven days and nights they sat there without saying a word. They could see how rotten he felt, how deeply he was suffering. Page 2 of 8 What’s the Point of Life? 3 1-2 Then Job broke the silence. He spoke up and cursed his fate: 3-10 “Obliterate the day I was born. Blank out the night I was conceived! Let it be a black hole in space. May God above forget it ever happened. Erase it from the books! May the day of my birth be buried in deep darkness, shrouded by the fog, swallowed by the night. And the night of my conception—the devil take it! Rip the date off the calendar, delete it from the almanac. Oh, turn that night into pure nothingness— no sounds of pleasure from that night, ever! May those who are good at cursing curse that day. Unleash the sea beast, Leviathan, on it. May its morning stars turn to black cinders, waiting for a daylight that never comes, never once seeing the first light of dawn. And why? Because it released me from my mother’s womb into a life with so much trouble. 11-19 “Why didn’t I die at birth, my first breath out of the womb my last? Why were there arms to rock me, and breasts for me to drink from? I could be resting in peace right now, asleep forever, feeling no pain, In the company of kings and statesmen in their royal ruins, Or with princes resplendent in their gold and silver tombs. Why wasn’t I stillborn and buried with all the babies who never saw light, Where the wicked no longer trouble anyone and bone-weary people get a long-deserved rest? Prisoners sleep undisturbed, never again to wake up to the bark of the guards. The small and the great are equals in that place, and slaves are free from their masters. 20-23 “Why does God bother giving light to the miserable, why bother keeping bitter people alive, Those who want in the worst way to die, and can’t, who can’t imagine anything better than death, Who count the day of their death and burial the happiest day of their life? What’s the point of life when it doesn’t make sense, when God blocks all the roads to meaning? 24-26 “Instead of bread I get groans for my supper, then leave the table and vomit my anguish. The worst of my fears has come true, what I’ve dreaded most has happened. My repose is shattered, my peace destroyed. No rest for me, ever—death has invaded life.” Page 3 of 8 Eliphaz Speaks Out Now You’re the One in Trouble 4 1-6 Then Eliphaz from Teman spoke up: “Would you mind if I said something to you? Under the circumstances it’s hard to keep quiet. You yourself have done this plenty of times, spoken words that clarify, encouraged those who were about to quit. Your words have put stumbling people on their feet, put fresh hope in people about to collapse. But now you’re the one in trouble—you’re hurting! You’ve been hit hard and you’re reeling from the blow. But shouldn’t your devout life give you confidence now? Shouldn’t your exemplary life give you hope? 7-11 “Think! Has a truly innocent person ever ended up on the scrap heap? Do genuinely upright people ever lose out in the end? It’s my observation that those who plow evil and sow trouble reap evil and trouble. One breath from God and they fall apart, one blast of his anger and there’s nothing left of them. The mighty lion, king of the beasts, roars mightily, but when he’s toothless he’s useless— No teeth, no prey—and the cubs wander off to fend for themselves. 12-16 “A word came to me in secret— a mere whisper of a word, but I heard it clearly. It came in a scary dream one night, after I had fallen into a deep, deep sleep. Dread stared me in the face, and Terror. I was scared to death—I shook from head to foot. A spirit glided right in front of me— the hair on my head stood on end. I couldn’t tell what it was that appeared there— a blur . . . and then I heard a muffled voice: 17-21 “‘How can mere mortals be more righteous than God? How can humans be purer than their Creator? Why, God doesn’t even trust his own servants, doesn’t even cheer his angels, So how much less these bodies composed of mud, fragile as moths? These bodies of ours are here today and gone tomorrow, and no one even notices—gone without a trace. When the tent stakes are ripped up, the tent collapses— we die and are never the wiser for having lived.’” Page 4 of 8 Don’t Blame Fate When Things Go Wrong 5 1-7 “Call for help, Job, if you think anyone will answer! To which of the holy angels will you turn? The hot temper of a fool eventually kills him, the jealous anger of a simpleton does her in. I’ve seen it myself—seen fools putting down roots, and then, suddenly, their houses are cursed. Their children out in the cold, abused and exploited, with no one to stick up for them. Hungry people off the street plunder their harvests, cleaning them out completely, taking thorns and all, insatiable for everything they have. Don’t blame fate when things go wrong— trouble doesn’t come from nowhere. It’s human! Mortals are born and bred for trouble, as certainly as sparks fly upward. What a Blessing When God Corrects You! 8-16 “If I were in your shoes, I’d go straight to God, I’d throw myself on the mercy of God. After all, he’s famous for great and unexpected acts; there’s no end to his surprises. He gives rain, for instance, across the wide earth, sends water to irrigate the fields. He raises up the down-and-out, gives firm footing to those sinking in grief. He aborts the schemes of conniving crooks, so that none of their plots come to term. He catches the know-it-alls in their conspiracies— all that intricate intrigue swept out with the trash! Suddenly they’re disoriented, plunged into darkness; they can’t see to put one foot in front of the other. But the downtrodden are saved by God, saved from the murderous plots, saved from the iron fist. And so the poor continue to hope, while injustice is bound and gagged. Don’t Blame Fate When Things Go Wrong 5 1-7 “Call for help, Job, if you think anyone will answer! To which of the holy angels will you turn? The hot temper of a fool eventually kills him, the jealous anger of a simpleton does her in. I’ve seen it myself—seen fools putting down roots, and then, suddenly, their houses are cursed. Their children out in the cold, abused and exploited, with no one to stick up for them. Hungry people off the street plunder their harvests, cleaning them out completely, taking thorns and all, insatiable for everything they have. Don’t blame fate when things go wrong— trouble doesn’t come from nowhere. It’s human! Mortals are born and bred for trouble, as certainly as sparks fly upward. What a Blessing When God Corrects You! 8-16 “If I were in your shoes, I’d go straight to God, I’d throw myself on the mercy of God. After all, he’s famous for great and unexpected acts; there’s no end to his surprises. He gives rain, for instance, across the wide earth, sends water to irrigate the fields. He raises up the down-and-out, gives firm footing to those sinking in grief. He aborts the schemes of conniving crooks, so that none of their plots come to term. He catches the know-it-alls in their conspiracies— all that intricate intrigue swept out with the trash! Suddenly they’re disoriented, plunged into darkness; they can’t see to put one foot in front of the other. But the downtrodden are saved by God, saved from the murderous plots, saved from the iron fist. And so the poor continue to hope, while injustice is bound and gagged. 17-19 “So, what a blessing when God steps in and corrects you! Mind you, don’t despise the discipline of Almighty God! True, he wounds, but he also dresses the wound; the same hand that hurts you, heals you. From one disaster after another he delivers you; no matter what the calamity, the evil can’t touch you— 20-26 “In famine, he’ll keep you from starving, in war, from being gutted by the sword. You’ll be protected from vicious gossip and live fearless through any catastrophe. You’ll shrug off disaster and famine, and stroll fearlessly among wild animals. You’ll be on good terms with rocks and mountains; wild animals will become your good friends. You’ll know that your place on earth is safe, you’ll look over your goods and find nothing amiss. You’ll see your children grow up, your family lovely and lissome as orchard grass. You’ll arrive at your grave ripe with many good years, like sheaves of golden grain at harvest. 27 “Yes, this is the way things are—my word of honor! Take it to heart and you won’t go wrong.” Page 5 of 8 Job Replies to Eliphaz God Has Dumped the Works on Me 6 1-7 Job answered: “If my misery could be weighed, if you could pile the whole bitter load on the scales, It would be heavier than all the sand of the sea! Is it any wonder that I’m screaming like a caged cat? The arrows of God Almighty are in me, poison arrows—and I’m poisoned all through! God has dumped the whole works on me. Donkeys bray and cows moo when they run out of pasture— so don’t expect me to keep quiet in this. Do you see what God has dished out for me? It’s enough to turn anyone’s stomach! Everything in me is repulsed by it— it makes me sick. Pressed Past the Limits 8-13 “All I want is an answer to one prayer, a last request to be honored: Let God step on me—squash me like a bug, and be done with me for good. I’d at least have the satisfaction of not having blasphemed the Holy God, before being pressed past the limits. Where’s the strength to keep my hopes up? What future do I have to keep me going? Do you think I have nerves of steel? Do you think I’m made of iron? Do you think I can pull myself up by my bootstraps? Why, I don’t even have any boots! My So-Called Friends 14-23 “When desperate people give up on God Almighty, their friends, at least, should stick with them. But my brothers are fickle as a gulch in the desert— one day they’re gushing with water From melting ice and snow cascading out of the mountains, But by midsummer they’re dry, gullies baked dry in the sun. Travelers who spot them and go out of their way for a drink end up in a waterless gulch and die of thirst. Merchant caravans from Tema see them and expect water, tourists from Sheba hope for a cool drink. They arrive so confident—but what a disappointment! They get there, and their faces fall! And you, my so-called friends, are no better— there’s nothing to you! One look at a hard scene and you shrink in fear. It’s not as though I asked you for anything— I didn’t ask you for one red cent— Nor did I beg you to go out on a limb for me. So why all this dodging and shuffling? 24-27 “Confront me with the truth and I’ll shut up, show me where I’ve gone off the track. Honest words never hurt anyone, but what’s the point of all this pious bluster? You pretend to tell me what’s wrong with my life, but treat my words of anguish as so much hot air. Are people mere things to you? Are friends just items of profit and loss?28-30 “Look me in the eyes! Do you think I’d lie to your face? Think it over—no double-talk! Think carefully—my integrity is on the line! Can you detect anything false in what I say? Don’t you trust me to discern good from evil?” There’s Nothing to My Life 7 1-6 “Human life is a struggle, isn’t it? It’s a life sentence to hard labor. Like field hands longing for quitting time and working stiffs with nothing to hope for but payday, I’m given a life that meanders and goes nowhere— months of aimlessness, nights of misery! I go to bed and think, ‘How long till I can get up?’ I toss and turn as the night drags on—and I’m fed up! I’m covered with maggots and scabs. My skin gets scaly and hard, then oozes with pus. My days come and go swifter than the click of knitting needles, and then the yarn runs out—an unfinished life! 7-10 “God, don’t forget that I’m only a puff of air! These eyes have had their last look at goodness. And your eyes have seen the last of me; even while you’re looking, there’ll be nothing left to look at. When a cloud evaporates, it’s gone for good; those who go to the grave never come back. They don’t return to visit their families; never again will friends drop in for coffee. 11-16 “And so I’m not keeping one bit of this quiet, I’m laying it all out on the table; my complaining to high heaven is bitter, but honest. Are you going to put a muzzle on me, the way you quiet the sea and still the storm? If I say, ‘I’m going to bed, then I’ll feel better. A little nap will lift my spirits,’ You come and so scare me with nightmares and frighten me with ghosts That I’d rather strangle in the bedclothes than face this kind of life any longer. I hate this life! Who needs any more of this? Let me alone! There’s nothing to my life—it’s nothing but smoke. 17-21 “What are mortals anyway, that you bother with them, that you even give them the time of day? That you check up on them every morning, looking in on them to see how they’re doing? Let up on me, will you? Can’t you even let me spit in peace? Even suppose I’d sinned—how would that hurt you? You’re responsible for every human being. Don’t you have better things to do than pick on me? Why make a federal case out of me? Why don’t you just forgive my sins and start me off with a clean slate? The way things are going, I’ll soon be dead. You’ll look high and low, but I won’t be around.” Bildad’s Response Does God Mess Up? 8 1-7 Bildad from Shuhah was next to speak: “How can you keep on talking like this? You’re talking nonsense, and noisy nonsense at that. Does God mess up? Does God Almighty ever get things backward? It’s plain that your children sinned against him— otherwise, why would God have punished them? Here’s what you must do—and don’t put it off any longer: Get down on your knees before God Almighty. If you’re as innocent and upright as you say, it’s not too late—he’ll come running; he’ll set everything right again, reestablish your fortunes. Even though you’re not much right now, you’ll end up better than ever. To Hang Your Life from One Thin Thread 8-19 “Put the question to our ancestors, study what they learned from their ancestors. For we’re newcomers at this, with a lot to learn, and not too long to learn it. So why not let the ancients teach you, tell you what’s what, instruct you in what they knew from experience? Can mighty pine trees grow tall without soil? Can luscious tomatoes flourish without water? Blossoming flowers look great before they’re cut or picked, but without soil or water they wither more quickly than grass. That’s what happens to all who forget God— all their hopes come to nothing. They hang their life from one thin thread, they hitch their fate to a spider web. One jiggle and the thread breaks, one jab and the web collapses. Or they’re like weeds springing up in the sunshine, invading the garden, Spreading everywhere, overtaking the flowers, getting a foothold even in the rocks. But when the gardener rips them out by the roots, the garden doesn’t miss them one bit. The sooner the godless are gone, the better; then good plants can grow in their place. 20-22 “There’s no way that God will reject a good person, and there is no way he’ll help a bad one. God will let you laugh again; you’ll raise the roof with shouts of joy, With your enemies thoroughly discredited, their house of cards collapsed.” Page 8 of 8 How Can Mere Mortals Get Right with God? 9 1-13 Job continued by saying: “So what’s new? I know all this. The question is, ‘How can mere mortals get right with God?’ If we wanted to bring our case before him, what chance would we have? Not one in a thousand! God’s wisdom is so deep, God’s power so immense, who could take him on and come out in one piece? He moves mountains before they know what’s happened, flips them on their heads on a whim. He gives the earth a good shaking up, rocks it down to its very foundations. He tells the sun, ‘Don’t shine,’ and it doesn’t; he pulls the blinds on the stars. All by himself he stretches out the heavens and strides on the waves of the sea. He designed the Big Dipper and Orion, the Pleiades and Alpha Centauri. We’ll never comprehend all the great things he does; his miracle-surprises can’t be counted. Somehow, though he moves right in front of me, I don’t see him; quietly but surely he’s active, and I miss it. If he steals you blind, who can stop him? Who’s going to say, ‘Hey, what are you doing?’ God doesn’t hold back on his anger; even dragon-bred monsters cringe before him. 14-20 “So how could I ever argue with him, construct a defense that would influence God? Even though I’m innocent I could never prove it; I can only throw myself on the Judge’s mercy. If I called on God and he himself answered me, then, and only then, would I believe that he’d heard me. As it is, he knocks me about from pillar to post, beating me up, black-and-blue, for no good reason. He won’t even let me catch my breath, piles bitterness upon bitterness. If it’s a question of who’s stronger, he wins, hands down! If it’s a question of justice, who’ll serve him the subpoena? Even though innocent, anything I say incriminates me; blameless as I am, my defense just makes me sound worse. If God’s Not Responsible, Who Is? 21-24 “Believe me, I’m blameless. I don’t understand what’s going on. I hate my life! Since either way it ends up the same, I can only conclude that God destroys the good right along with the bad. When calamity hits and brings sudden death, he folds his arms, aloof from the despair of the innocent. He lets the wicked take over running the world, he installs judges who can’t tell right from wrong. If he’s not responsible, who is? 25-31 “My time is short—what’s left of my life races off too fast for me to even glimpse the good. My life is going fast, like a ship under full sail, like an eagle plummeting to its prey. Even if I say, ‘I’ll put all this behind me, I’ll look on the bright side and force a smile,’ All these troubles would still be like grit in my gut since it’s clear you’re not going to let up. The verdict has already been handed down—‘Guilty!’— so what’s the use of protests or appeals? Even if I scrub myself all over and wash myself with the strongest soap I can find, It wouldn’t last—you’d push me into a pigpen, or worse, so nobody could stand me for the stink. 32-35 “God and I are not equals; I can’t bring a case against him. We’ll never enter a courtroom as peers. How I wish we had an arbitrator to step in and let me get on with life— To break God’s death grip on me, to free me from this terror so I could breathe again. Then I’d speak up and state my case boldly. As things stand, there is no way I can do it.”
Posted on: Mon, 01 Jul 2013 09:11:44 +0000