Beginning
17 Job: My spirit has collapsed; my days have been blotted out;
the grave is prepared for me.
2 There are mockers all around me;
my eyes are fixed on their unwarranted opposition of me.
3 Show me a sign! Vouch for me, God!
Who is there to give me his hand, guaranteeing his pledge?
4 I think no one is there because You have closed up their minds,
made them unable to see or understand;
so You will honor none of them.
5 You have heard, “Whoever denounces his friends for land
will watch his children go blind.”
6 But God has turned me into a swear word for everyone;
I have become a symbol of human darkness;
I am the face on whom one spits.
7 All my afflictions cloud my vision;
the members of my body are wasting away;
I am a mere shadow of what it once was.
8 Those of moral fiber are appalled at this;
innocent men grow indignant at the wicked.
9 Even still, the righteous embrace their way of life;
those with clean hands go from strong to stronger.
10 By contrast, I look to you, my friends, and I say,
“Come ahead, all of you; try your words once more.”
I still won’t expect to find a wise man among you.
11 Even now my days have passed me by;
My plans lie broken at my feet;
the secret wishes of my heart grow cold.
12 And yet my friends say, this loss of hope is for good,
turning my dark night into what appears to them as day.
In the pitch darkness, these broken plans and secret wishes speak to me.
They say, “There is light nearby.”
13 If I hope only to live in the land of the dead,
if I prepare for myself a bed in the darkness,
14 If I speak to my burial pit, calling it “Father,”
and to the worms in the earth, calling them “Mother” and “Sister,”
15 Then where will I find my hope?
And who will see it?
16 Will hope go with me to the place of death?
Will hope accompany me into the ground?
18 Bildad the Shuhite encouraged Job to righteousness.
2 Bildad: How long will you keep up the hunt for words?
Show some sense, and then we can actually converse.
3 Why is it we are like cattle to you,
dumb animals in your eyes?
4 You speak of how God “tears at you,” you!
You tear at yourself in your rage.
Oh, how self-centered you are!
Ought the earth be emptied of its inhabitants for your sake?
Ought the rocks roll away for your convenience?
5 Remember, the flame of the wicked is extinguished.
His fire no longer lends light to anything.
6 His tent-lamp goes dark;
his bedside lamp flickers and dies.
7 His long strides falter, as his own plans take him down.
8 His then-weakened feet lead him to a net,
And wander into its waiting mesh.
9 A snare clamps around his heel;
he feels it dig into him.
10 This trap was set for him beforehand:
a snare is hidden on the ground;
a net is overhead along the path.
11 Terrors press in on every side
and badger his every step.
12 His deepest fears stalk him as he staggers, craving him,
and awaiting his imminent collapse.
13 Bit by bit, disease eats at his skin;
bit by bit, the firstborn of death gnashes at his limbs.
14 He is torn violently from the safety of his tent
and forced to march before the king of terrors.
Bildad sees the realm of death not just as a place of rest and waiting, but as a growing society ruled by a king. Sheol always has room for more citizens and always wants more. Like an infant, this place—this firstborn of death—has a voracious appetite for the wicked. And the infant’s father, the king of terrors, has many ways to provide for his child. His terrors are not nightmares or phobias or any other psychological device. Instead, he rules over disaster, disease, and famine—anything that brings death. Through his vibrant imagery, Bildad explains that death is the ultimate fate of the wicked; he implies that Job cannot be evil because the terrors he has faced have not yet killed him.
15 Bildad: Nothing of his remains in his tent,
and burning sulfur has been scattered on it so no one will dwell there again.
16 Death comes from both directions:
from below, his roots dry out;
from above, his branches wither.
17 On the earth, he disappears from memory;
on the outside, no one recalls his name.
18 He is pushed out of the light into darkness
and chased from the inhabited world altogether.
19 He has no children, no descendants among his people;
no one survives him or escapes from his homeland.
20 His fate is unanimously viewed:
with dismay in the West,
with horror in the East.
21 Surely this is the way it goes with all evil people;
surely this is the lot in life for those who do not know God.
19 Job answered his friends in frustration.
2 Job: O how long! How long will you torture me and pound me with your chatter?
3 What is it now? Eight times? Nine times?
No, surely it’s ten times you have insulted me.
Ten times you’ve shamelessly acted to harm me.
4 Even if I have erred, my faults lie with me alone.
5 However, if you must exalt yourselves at my expense,
if you must proffer my own disgrace as evidence against me,
6 Then you ought at least to know that I have been wronged by God.
Yes, His net is closed about me.
7 Look! I cry out, “Violence!” but no response comes.
I shout for help, but justice eludes me.
8 He is a roadblock. He will not let me pass;
He has covered my roads in darkness.
9 He has stripped me of my honor,
torn the crown off my head.
10 He comes at me from all sides, but I attempt to leave;
He rips out my hope as if it were a tree in dry ground.
11 His anger burns white-hot against me,
and He considers me His enemy.
12 His militia arrives to raise a siege ramp against me
and to surround my dwelling.
13 He has driven my relatives far from me;
I am cut off from my friends.
14 My entire family has failed me;
my best friends have forgotten me.
15 Everyone in my house, including my maidservants,
treats me like an outsider;
I am a stranger to them now.
16 When I send for my servant, he does not come.
I even plead with him with my own voice.
17 My breath is strange; even my wife avoids me;
I’m loathsome to my relatives; they can’t stand to be around me.
18 Even young children taunt me,
and when I seek to rise, they mock me.
19 My closest friends can no longer bear me,
and anyone I have ever loved has turned against me.
20 I am reduced to skin and bones;
I have barely escaped by the skin of my teeth.
21 Show me your pity, my friends, show me your pity!
For truly, I have been struck by the hand of God.
22 Why do you pursue me as God has done?
Is my emaciated body not satisfying enough for you?
23 What I would give to have my words taken down,
to have them inscribed for posterity on a scroll.
24 No! More than that!
To have them chiseled with iron filled with lead—
carved in stone for all eternity.
25 Besides, I know my Redeemer lives,
and in the end He will rise and take His stand on the earth.
26 And though my skin has been stripped off,
still, in my flesh, I will see God.
27 I, myself, will see Him:
not some stranger, but actually me, with these eyes.
Toward this end, my deepest longings pine away within my chest.
Literally, a redeemer “buys back” something that was taken away. In the Old Testament, kinsmen-redeemers are men who buy their relatives out of slavery, buy family property back from creditors, or marry their brothers’ widows to save the women from destitution. What is it that Job needs returned to him? Acknowledgment of his innocence and a renewed life. Because all of his family and friends have abandoned him, Job is trusting in his plea to God. As he did in chapter 16, Job is personifying his words and hoping in the redemptive power of his own argument.
Many millennia later, Christians do not have to trust in their own actions or persuasive reasoning to save their lives. Jesus redeemed all when He died on the cross—trading Himself to buy back our lives. He is the ultimate Redeemer.
28 Job: If you ask, “How will we pursue him
since the root cause of his suffering lies in him?”
29 You ought to fear the sword yourselves;
for the sword bears fury’s punishment
in order that you might realize there is, in fact, a judgment.
20 Zophar the Naamathite reiterated his concern for Job.
2 Zophar: My anguished thoughts force me to respond
because I feel an urgency within myself.
3 I caught wind of your words that dishonor me,
but I am prompted to answer based on my own spirit and understanding.
4 Don’t you know how it has always been?
Since humankind was first put here on the earth,
5 The celebrations of the wicked have been brief,
and the joy of the profane lasts only a moment.
6 Even if he were tall enough to reach into the heavens
and his head were to reach to the clouds,
7 He would still perish forever, like his own excrement;
those who once looked upon him would wonder,
“Where has he gone?”
8 Like a dream, he flies off where no one can find him;
he is chased away only to vanish into the air like a vision of the night.
9 The eyes that saw him before see him no more;
his home doesn’t ever welcome him again.
10 His children beg at the door of the poor;
his hands render his wealth back to them.
11 The vigor of youth had a home, a residence in his bones,
but it lies down in the dust with him.
12 Though his wrongdoing is sweet in his mouth,
though he hides it under his tongue,
13 Though he holds it close and will not let it go
(but must keep it in his mouth),
14 His food will be transformed within him
into the bitter venom of the asp.
15 The wealth he has swallowed will be poison.
He will vomit it up—God will cast it out.
16 It is as they say, “He sucks the venom of asps
and is slain by the tongue of the viper.”
17 Never again will he gaze at the brook’s edge
or see streams that flow with milk and honey—
18 The food for which he worked he vomits up or cannot swallow,
and the gains of his trading, he can never enjoy.
19 After all, he’s an oppressor;
he’s crushed and forsaken the poor;
he made his home in a house he stole from another,
a house he did not build himself.
20 Because he’s never known inner peace,
he has seized everything he’s ever craved.
21 Because he consumed all he could see, nothing is left;
his prosperity cannot last.
22 When he is fat with satisfaction,
the belt of distress will tighten around him
and the hands of the downtrodden will rise up against him.
23 When he has filled up his belly,
God will visit him with His ferocious anger;
it will rain down on him while he is eating.
24 Let him attempt to escape the iron weapon.
Instead, a bow of bronze will send death to tear into him.
25 When the arrow is drawn it comes out of his back,
and the shining arrowhead comes out of his organ,
bringing terror upon him.
26 A great darkness waits for and stalks everything he values.
A mysterious fire—unstoked yet burning hot—will consume him
and devour everything and everyone left behind in his tent.
27 The skies will tell on him, exposing his wrongdoing;
the earth will rebel against him.
28 All that he labored to build will be carried off,
washed away in the day of God’s furious anger.
29 This is how it will be for the wicked of humanity before God;
this is the inheritance God bequeaths them.
The Voice Bible Copyright © 2012 Thomas Nelson, Inc. The Voice™ translation © 2012 Ecclesia Bible Society All rights reserved.