This is what Job means, you show wisdom in the misfortunes of other people. Since you are far away from my misfortunes, you admonish me while you experience a peaceful life. This remark is an answer to the words that were said earlier, You have instructed many.^[1] You have strengthened the feeble knees.^[2] But now misfortune has come to you, and you are impatient; it touches you, and you are dismayed.^[3] Why does he say, You are dismayed? I wanted my affliction to become evident, so you would understand that nobody has ever suffered such tribulations. But I perceive my bad luck. He who should have provided me with forgiveness makes me absolutely unforgivable. My misfortune’s magnitude, he says, not only doesn’t intercede for me, not only makes me seem unworthy of mercy, but condemns me. What should have obtained mercy for me instead makes me hateful and condemnable, and I cannot gain any mercy, in spite of what I say. And the proof is that Eliphaz imputed Job’s misfortune to impiety.

He who loves to sojourn abroad instead of in his own country does not know how to grieve, even in the midst of grief. But the words of the righteous person are full of grief. For as long as Job is subject to present ills, he sighs after something else in his speech. All that Job brought upon himself by sinning is set before his eyes. So that Job may return to the state of blessedness, he weighs carefully the judgments that afflict him.

Eliphaz believed that Job said all this out of desperation. Since Eliphaz’s first words to Job were trustworthy—words that insisted that Job suffered because of sin—Job responds, It seems my words are valueless and lack faith. Consequently, Job adds the reason why Eliphaz does not believe in him when he says, For the arrows of the Almighty are in me, thus making the following clear, This is why my words are valueless. The Lord’s arrows are in my body. For most people usually disregard words uttered by people in distress, those aggrieved by poverty, even if their words are understandable. This is expressed in the words, The poor person speaks and they say, ‘Who is this fellow?’^{[1] [2]} WHEN BASIC NEEDS ARE PROVIDED. ISHO‘DAD OF MERV: By mentioning the wild ass, the author speaks about all wild animals, and by referring to the ox, about all cattle. His point is that neither wild animals nor cattle complain when they have food to eat. Nor do humans complain when they can have at their disposal the necessary things they need and what is seasoned with salt. ^[1]

Can anyone taste poisonous food without dying? For it is hard to seek that which torments or to follow that which destroys life. But very often the life of the righteous stretches itself to such a height of virtue that it rules within in the citadel of interior reason. It also rules without. By bearing with it, reason leads the folly of some to conversion. For we must bear with the weakness of those we are striving to draw on to strong things. No one can lift up another without bending down from the uprightness of his position. But when we empathize with the weakness of another, we are strongly encouraged to face courageously our own weaknesses. The result is that from the love of future things, the soul prepares itself to meet the ills of present times and watches for the hurts of the body that it used to fear. For the soul is increasingly straitened as its heavenly aspirations are enlarged. When it perceives how great is the sweetness of the eternal land, it fervently loves for the sake of the present life’s bitter tastes.

Sores and pus were not enough. A new affliction is added. Job’s disease has destroyed his entire sensitivity to the extent that even his nourishment has become a torture for him. Indeed, Job says, the nauseating smell of gangrene has deprived him of the capability to distinguish sensations. Is there anything more painful than that torment? Neither sleep gave him rest nor food nourished him. As the smell of a lion, Job says. That wild beast, in fact, gives a horrible stench.

I do not care to oppose your words, Job says. It seems to me, in fact, that I have committed nothing resembling what you say. I don’t state this openly. I simply say that I am suffering punishments that go beyond what human nature can endure. The vastness of my temptations extends far beyond what human bodies can actually bear. However, observe how, even in the midst of such grief, Job has not decided, in any case, to come and relate his good actions. He has hidden them so far. In addition, he who often with great honesty exposed his fault to public mockery before a brilliant audience is silent about his good actions, even while living in such misery. In fact, Job does not say, I experienced these sufferings, even though I am righteous. Rather, Job says he cannot bear them. . . . His language is not that of a man who asserts that he is unjustly punished but that of one who recognizes, on the contrary, the justness of his punishment. He simply cannot bear any more punishment and therefore demands that he obtain forgiveness. ^[1] DESIRE FOR DEATH. ISHO‘DAD OF MERV: He would let loose his hand and finish me! That is, may he put an end to my life by his intervention. Again Job speaks, I would be finished again with violence and no mercy. In a word, I desire that God inflict death on me violently and mercilessly. ^[1]

He who asks to be wounded does not pray out of exhaustion that his prayer might be granted but in order to fulfill his task. This task was to fulfill the right deeds or to make visible to the friends for their benefit the reason for the hardships, [namely,] that they had been imposed as a test. Then they would not make mistakes against the righteous. Instead, with divine zeal they would be committed to emulate the endurance and steadfastness that the holy one exhibited and that led him to say, O that I might have my request, rather than. . . that God would grant my desire. Job prays for two reasons. On the one hand, he prays that he himself may win the crown in the competition. On the other hand, Job prays that his friends may not consider his endurance in hardship as meaningless. His steadfastness even in such great hardships can be seen and admired in the fact that Job did not deny his friend an answer, even though preoccupation with his hardships could have served as an excuse. But even now Job speaks like a brave athlete who warlike meets his opponent, and with the consciousness that the imposed suffering did not occur without God’s compliance. That it would please God to crush me, yet may he not extinguish me entirely, instead of, May God mercifully allow me to endure the affliction until the end. Similar to this is the expression and lead us not into temptation,^[1] which often has been interpreted in this way: May it not come so far that we fall prey to the temptations.

What is my strength, that I should wait? And what is my end, that I should be patient? It is necessary to bear in mind that the strength of the righteous is of one sort and the strength of the reprobate of another. For the strength of the righteous is to subdue the flesh, to thwart our own wills, to annihilate the gratification the present life offers, to be in love with the roughness of this world for the sake of eternal rewards, to consider as nothing the allurements of prosperity, to overcome in our hearts the dread of adversity. But the strength of the reprobate is to set their affection unceasingly on transitory things. To endure insensibly the strokes of our Creator (not even by adversity to be brought to cease loving temporal things); to attain vain glory even with a wasted life; to search out ever more wickedness; to attack the life of the good (not only with words and by behavior but even with weapons); to put their trust in themselves; to perpetrate iniquity daily without any diminution of desire. . . . Is my strength the strength of stones, or is my flesh bronze?. . . Let the holy one, then, who amid the scourges eschewed the reprobate’s hardness, exclaim, Neither is my strength the strength of stones, nor is my flesh made of brass. It is as though Job openly confessed in plain words, Under discipline’s lash I keep clear of acting like the reprobate. For neither have I become like stones so hardened that under the lash’s impulse I remained silent when I should have confessed, nor again have I like brass echoed the voice of confession, while not understanding the meaning of what I was saying. Yet under the scourge, the reprobate manifest a strength that is actually weakness and the elect a weakness that is actually strength. Blessed Job, while declaring that he is not strong due to the disease, makes it plain that he is strong in his state of saving health. So let him inform us as to the source from whom he received this same strength, lest Job ascribe to himself the powers that he possesses. . . Those who withhold kindness from a friend forsake the fear of the Almighty. Who else is here denoted by the name of a friend except every neighbor who is united to us in a faithful attachment proportionate to the good service received from us in this present time? Is this not he who effectually aids us in attaining hereafter the eternal country? For charity possesses two key principles: the love of God and the love of our neighbor. It is through the love of God that the love of our neighbor is born, and by the love of our neighbor the love of God is fostered. For one who does not care to love God truly knows nothing about how to love his neighbor. In turn, we advance more perfectly in the love of God if in the bosom of this love we first be suckled with the milk of charity toward our neighbor. For the love of God begets the love of our neighbor. The Lord, when proceeding to speak in the voice of the law the words you shall love your neighbor^[1] prefaced it by saying, You shall love the Lord your God.^[2] The Lord desires to first plant the root of his love in our breast so that afterwards the love of our brothers should blossom in the branches. Again, the love of God grows strong through the love of our neighbor. John testifies to this truth when he says, For he that does not love his brother, whom he has seen, how can he love God, whom he has not seen?^[3] This love of God, though it is born in fear, is transformed by growing into affection.

Even this happened to test Job. For the absence of friends in the midst of suffering is no small pain. Even the holy David sang as he experienced similar suffering, Look on my right hand and see—there is no one who takes notice of me.^[1] Consider whether Job desired to show here that even the invisible holy powers passed away above him, so that his virtue may appear to be even greater. This interpretation fits for the one that has been given the words the providence of the Lord has looked after me.^[2] For the Lord of all did not neglect Job out of hate but in order to show the adversary that his wickedness is useless against human virtue. Likewise, perhaps the divine powers do not protect Job and allow him to struggle so that the righteous behavior of the saint would become even more visible, for one must assume that they know God’s will.

The streams’ waters fall from heaven and are symbols of the prophecies and oracles announced to the Jewish people through the prophets, just as through mystic clouds, as if the prophets’ words were rains falling from heaven.

Job means to say this: there is no memory or trace left of my former prosperity. And that is even worse than my misfortune itself. Oh, that one would indeed weigh the wrath that is upon me and take up my sorrow in a balance together!^[1] And Job now tries to describe his sorrows. I perceive my food to be loathsome [as the smell of a lion].^[2] I wish to die, but I do not die. I suffer so because I am a man and not a stone; I am an ephemeral human being, I do not enjoy the aid from above. Among my nearest relations, some pass me by without seeing me; others trample me underfoot. No trace of my former prosperity remains.

They are confounded, because I have hoped. When the wicked inflict evils upon the good, they are overjoyed at the success of their deceptions, if they see the good shaken from interior hope. For the wicked reckon the spread of their error to be the greatest gain, for they rejoice to have companions in perdition. But when the good person’s hope is rooted within, never bent to the ground by outward evils, confusion seizes the soul of the wicked. Their inability to get at the innermost parts of the distressed results in shame for the wicked. Their cruelty has not produced the effect they expected. . . . They came even to me and were ashamed. For lost sinners come even to holy church on the day of judgment, in that they are brought even then to behold its glory. For the punishment of their guilt is even greater when they see what they have lost as they are rejected. Then shame covers the wicked, when the conscience bears witness and convicts them in the sight of the Judge. At that time the Judge is beheld without and the accuser is convicted within. Every sin is called up before the eyes and the soul. The soul is tortured by its own fire, over and above the burnings of hell.

However, even in such a condition, Job does not refuse to learn. You may say something useful. I will be silent, if you speak helpful words. But they could not, to be sure, present evidence, but simply proceeded through conjectures. And since Job’s life was manifestly full of virtue, they supposed that it was not the ground of his punishments.

Job’s words mean. . . It is likely you have suffered the same in many things. Truth, however, is always hateful to many. Therefore, you despise my words of truth. You do not come down to me, Job says, nor do you speak about the gifts of grace like people who desire to encourage. On the contrary, you accuse me openly, whereas I have never accused you. I hope, however, that after answering each of you, my words will defeat you.

You would even attack the orphan, that is, me, for I am deprived of any human assistance. And since God is the Father of the orphans,^[1] you make him angry by offending me. And you would trample your friend underfoot with your words. You trample him even more violently than with your feet, and you scorn the laws of friendship. But God takes these faults into account. He, who not only commands us to love our neighbor like ourselves, also wants to be called love.

While convincing his friends that they are not acting friendly but speaking against common sense, Job now tries to show that he cannot appropriately be accused of speaking harshly or of desiring death by just judges. And judge by saying what is just. Be judges of the words that we said in common, so that your judgment may be in compliance with justice and not with a feeling of hostility.