Job 29–31: The Final Defense: A Life Laid on the Table
Scripture: Berean Standard Bible
And Job continued his discourse:
“How I long for the months gone by,for the days when God watched over me,when his lamp shone above my head,and by his light I walked through the darkness,when I was in my prime,when the friendship of God rested on my tent,when the Almighty was still with meand my children were around me,when my steps were bathed in creamand the rock poured out for me streams of oil!
When I went out to the city gateand took my seat in the public square,the young men saw me and withdrew,and the old men rose to their feet.The princes refrained from speakingand covered their mouths with their hands.The voices of the nobles were hushed,and their tongues stuck to the roofs of their mouths.For those who heard me called me blessed,and those who saw me commended me,because I rescued the poor who cried outand the fatherless who had no helper.The dying man blessed me,and I made the widow’s heart sing for joy.I put on righteousness, and it clothed me;justice was my robe and my turban.I served as eyes to the blindand as feet to the lame.I was a father to the needy,and I took up the case of the stranger.I shattered the fangs of the unjustand snatched the prey from his teeth.
So I thought: ‘I will die in my nestand multiply my days as the sand.My roots will spread out to the waters,and the dew will rest nightly on my branches.My glory is ever new within me,and my bow is renewed in my hand.’
Men listened to me with expectation,waiting silently for my counsel.After my words, they spoke no more;my speech settled on them like dew.They waited for me as for rainand drank in my words like spring showers.If I smiled at them, they did not believe it;the light of my countenance was precious.I chose their course and presided as chief.So I dwelt as a king among his troops,as a comforter of the mourners.“But now they mock me,men younger than I am,whose fathers I would have refusedto entrust with my sheep dogs.What use to me was the strength of their hands,since their vigor had left them?Gaunt from poverty and hunger,they gnawed the dry land,and the desolate wasteland by night.They plucked mallow among the shrubs,and the roots of the broom tree were their food.They were banished from among men,shouted down like thieves,so that they lived on the slopes of the wadis,among the rocks and in holes in the ground.They cried out among the shrubsand huddled beneath the nettles.A senseless and nameless brood,they were driven off the land.
And now they mock me in song;I have become a byword among them.They abhor me and keep far from me;they do not hesitate to spit in my face.Because God has unstrung my bow and afflicted me,they have cast off restraint in my presence.The rabble arises at my right;they lay snares for my feetand build siege ramps against me.They tear up my path;they profit from my destruction,with no one to restrain them.They advance as through a wide breach;through the ruins they keep rolling in.
Terrors are turned loose against me;they drive away my dignity as by the wind,and my prosperity has passed like a cloud.And now my soul is poured out within me;days of affliction grip me.Night pierces my bones,and my gnawing pains never rest.With great force he grasps my garment;he seizes me by the collar of my tunic.He throws me into the mud,and I have become like dust and ashes.
I cry out to you for help, but you do not answer;when I stand up, you merely look at me.You have ruthlessly turned on me;you oppose me with your strong hand.You snatch me up into the windand drive me before it;you toss me about in the storm.Yes, I know that you will bring me down to death,to the place appointed for all the living.
Yet no one stretches out his hand to a ruined manwhen he cries for help in his distress.Have I not wept for those in trouble?Has my soul not grieved for the needy?But when I hoped for good, evil came;when I looked for light, darkness fell.I am churning within and cannot rest;days of affliction confront me.I go about blackened, but not by the sun.I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.I have become a brother of jackals,a companion of ostriches.My skin grows black and peels,and my bones burn with fever.My harp is tuned to mourningand my flute to the sound of weeping.“I have made a covenant with my eyes.How then could I gaze with desire at a virgin?For what is the allotment of God from above,or the heritage from the Almighty on high?Does not disaster come to the unjustand calamity to the workers of iniquity?Does he not see my waysand count my every step?
If I have walked in falsehoodor my foot has rushed to deceit,let God weigh me with honest scales,that he may know my integrity.If my steps have turned from the path,if my heart has followed my eyes,or if impurity has stuck to my hands,then may another eat what I have sown,and may my crops be uprooted.
If my heart has been enticed by my neighbor’s wife,or I have lurked at his door,then may my own wife grind grain for another,and may other men sleep with her.For that would be a heinous crime,an iniquity to be judged.For it is a fire that burns down to Abaddon;it would root out my entire harvest.
If I have rejected the cause of my manservant or maidservantwhen they made a complaint against me,what will I do when God rises to judge?How will I answer when called to account?Did not he who made me in the womb also make them?Did not the same One form us in the womb?
If I have denied the desires of the pooror allowed the widow’s eyes to fail,if I have eaten my morsel alone,not sharing it with the fatherless—though from my youth I reared him as would a father,and from my mother’s womb I guided the widow—if I have seen one perish for lack of clothing,or a needy man without a cloak,if his heart has not blessed mefor warming him with the fleece of my sheep,if I have lifted up my hand against the fatherlessbecause I saw that I had support in the gate,then may my arm fall from my shoulderand be torn from its socket.For calamity from God terrifies me,and his splendor I cannot overpower.
If I have put my trust in goldor called pure gold my security,if I have rejoiced in my great wealthbecause my hand had gained so much,if I have beheld the sun in its radianceor the moon moving in splendor,so that my heart was secretly enticedand my hand threw a kiss from my mouth,this would also be an iniquity to be judged,for I would have denied God on high.
If I have rejoiced in my enemy’s ruin,or exulted when evil befell him—I have not allowed my mouth to sinby asking for his life with a curse—if the men of my house have not said,‘Who is there who has not had his fill?’—but no stranger had to lodge on the street,for my door has been open to the traveler—if I have covered my transgressions like Adamby hiding my guilt in my heart,because I greatly feared the crowdsand the contempt of the clans terrified me,so that I kept silentand would not go outside—
(Oh, that I had one to hear me!Here is my signature.Let the Almighty answer me;let my accuser compose an indictment.Surely I would carry it on my shoulderand wear it like a crown.I would give account of all my steps;I would approach him like a prince.)—
if my land cries out against meand its furrows weep together,if I have devoured its produce without paymentor broken the spirit of its tenants,then let briers grow instead of wheatand stinkweed instead of barley.”
Thus conclude the words of Job.