JOB CHAPTER 1 - 8

THE BOOK OF JOB

The book of Job is traditionally thought to have been written by Moses, but scholars temd to place it at a much later date by authors unknown. There is disagreement about the integrity of the book as well, and it may be a compilation from several sources. Its cononicity is universally recognized, however.

The more burning question is the placement of the book, between the Maccabees and before the volume of poetry and wisdom literature to follow. In fact, the book of Job addresses an issue that was central to the books of Maccabees, the issue of divine punishment and reward. In the Maccabees, courage is taken from the belief that suffering is always punishment from God. When it is applied to His own people, it is limited and results in repentance and reformation. When it is applied to the Gentiles, it results in doom. Therefore, the faithful Jews in the Maccabees are able to look beyond torture and death to a coming reward in the resurrection.

This view of reality permits the appearance of another scenario, precisely that of Job. How does one relate to suffering when there is no preceeding sin to require punishment? The comforters of Job suggest that the answer lies in secret sin, and they demand that Job confess in order to end his suffering and receive the renewed approbation of God. Job stubbornly clings to his innocence defined as his action in accordance with divine law. Whilst the book does not answer the question posed by innocent suffering, and no doubt any philosophical answer would be preposterous in that it would attempt to explain the unexplainable, the book does justify Job’s viewpoint. Suffering itself is not evidence of sinfulness. Knowledge of specific acts of transgression can be the only basis of judgement. That central idea is abundantly confirmed in the book of Job. The book of Job is a necessary sequal to the Maccabees. It cannot be understood outside the context of the Maccabees (as the entire history of Christian theology and exegesis so abundantly testifies).

By the same token, Job, as a descendant of Esau, is one of the few figures in the Bible whose sinlessness is maintained with absolute force. The book thus expands the narrow view of the Maccabees, which combines the faithfulness to God’s law with being a part of the chosen people, to the universalist principle that God does not regard station and ancestry, but only faithfulness to His law. How much sorrow, bloodshed, and agony in this world might have been avoided had that one principle been kept clearly in mind! Instead we are faced with the domination of the religion of Job’s comforters: only believe in Jesus, who bears the just punishment of God (as did Job) on behalf of all, and all sinfulness inherent in the human condition is repealed and forgiven, and humankind is free to live by the law of the jungle and pretend to call it right and just.

The epithet for God that is commonly used in this book is aleph-lamed-he pointed by the Masoretes as Eloah. Since the letters are precisely the same as those used in Arabic for Allah, I have preserved that English form. The view that Allah is an Arab moon god is fallacious. The forms in the book of Job are otherwise influenced by Arabic or Aramaic, and it is only proper to realize that Allah, Alah, and Eloah are all cognates and the same divine name.

JOB 1

1 There was a man in land of Uz,
Whose name was Job, and that man was
Perfect and upright, one who feared
God, shunned evil when it appeared.
2 And seven sons and three daughters
Were born to him. 3 Also, his purse,
Possessions were seven thousand sheep,
Three thousand camels, and to reap
Five hundred yoke of oxen, five
Hundred female donkeys alive,
And a very large household, so
This man was greatest in the show
Of all the people of the East,
Respected by both great and least.

So few are in the book of revelation
Proclaimed both perfect and without probation.
Upright and perfect was the good man Job
And rich as well, in livestock, tent and robe.
With seven sons and daughters and to spare
He was a man respected everywhere.
Those shunning evil in this time and place
Are rather kicked in shin and slapped in face,
So much the world has gone apace in doing
The evil for the good and widely wooing
The false for true. Now such a one would be,
Instead of greatest, least upon the tree.
Ah, let me not with longing look to Uz
As though the best is always what once was.

4 And his sons would go to their feast
In their houses, from great to least
Each on his day, and would send to
Invite their three sisters and crew
To eat and drink with them. 5 And so,
When the days of feasting would go,
Job sent and sanctified them, and
He rose early at dawn to stand
And offer holocausts for all
According to number and call.
For Job said, “It may be that my
Sons have sinned and cursed on the sly
Ælohim.” So did Job’s command.

With seven sons, each on the day appointed,
To hold a feast of memory to the Lord,
The week goes by in honour of the Anointed.
Divine the sceptre and divine the sword
That sends and sanctifies the holy feast.
God bless them all from greatest to the least.
Beloved, I love the vision of the man
Job who in all his wealth from Ramadhan
To Ramadhan remembered to give gifts
To You. The memory’s bright scene uplifts.
And when the holy Sabbath morning broke,
The gallows saw strewn on them things that spoke
Of piety and low submission to
The whirling days and nights walking with You.

6 On a day sons of Ælohim [angelic beings]
Came to present themselves in stream
Before YHWH, and Satan also
Came among them to make a show.
7 And YHWH said to Satan, “From where
Do you come?” So Satan took care
To answer YHWH and said, “From going
To and fro on the earth, and slowing
From walking back and forth on it.”
8 YHWH told Satan, “Have you found fit
My servant Job, that there is none
Like him on earth under the sun,
A blameless and upright man, one
To fear Ælohim, evil shun?”
9 So Satan answered YHWH and said,
“Does Job fear Ælohim for dread?
10 “Have You not made a hedge around
Him, around his household, and bound
All that he has on every side?
You’ve blessed his hands’ work to abide,
And his possessions have increased
In the land and have never ceased.
11 “But now, stretch out Your hand and touch
All that he has, and after such
He’ll surely curse You to Your face!”
12 And YHWH said to Satan, “I place
All that he has within your power,
Only don’t lay hand on his flower.”
So Satan went out from the place
Where all stood up before YHWH’s face.

The angels all come at the new moon to
Report their lovely tidings there to You
Upon the throne above the universe.
Some tell the good and some tell of the worse.
Accuser there may be among them still
Who says I whirl and cantillate to fill
The gullet with good things. He must be wrong,
For You, Beloved, repeat creation’s song
Upon the just and on the unjust too.
This life rewards no men for what they do,
But only shows both good and bad when done
By You or by Your one rebellious son.
Bless me or not, surround me with a hedge,
I whirl in tears or joy up to the edge.

13 Now there was a day when his sons
And daughters were eating their buns
And drinking grape juice in their oldest
Brother’s house, 14 and messenger boldest
Came to Job and said “Oxen were
Plowing and the donkeys confer
Feeding beside them, 15 “when there came
The Sabeans to raid in blame
And took them all away, indeed
They’ve killed the servants with the speed
Of sword, and I alone escaped
To tell you all about the scraped!”
16 While he was still speaking, another
Also came and said like the brother,
“A great fire fell down from the sky
And burned up the sheep, who knows why,
And the servants, and consumed them,
And I alone escaped the hem
To tell you!” 17 While he was still speaking,
Another also came and sneaking
Said “The Chaldeans formed three bands,
Raided the camels on the sands
And took them away, yes, and killed
The servants with mouth of sword filled,
And I alone escaped to tell!”
18 While he was still speaking the spell,
Another also came to tell,
“Your sons and daughters were eating
And drinking grape juice in a fling
In their oldest brother’s house, 19 “and
Suddenly a great wind and sand
Came from across the wilderness
And struck the four corners’ address
Of the house, and it fell upon
The young people, and they are gone,
And only I escaped distress!”

My worldly wealth is just a shadow and
The raucous, quavering tune of passing band.
The gathering to eat and drink in praise
Of Your name, my Beloved, on all the days
Of every week draws on the jealous eye
Of men and even angels in the sky.
I cantillate and whirl knowing full well
That death awaits the faithful at the bell.
This world is gallows, place of sacrifice,
From day of birth, let no man linger twice.
This time perhaps I too escape to say
Sabeans fell upon the good today.
Tomorrow I shall give my head in ransom,
No help that I may be both rich and handsome.

20 Then Job arose, and tore his robe,
And shaved his head off like a globe,
And fell to the ground in prostration.
21 And he said “Naked in my ration
I came from my mother’s womb, and
Naked shall I return to stand.
YHWH gave, and YHWH’s taken away,
Blessed be the name of YHWH, hooray!”
22 In all this Job did not sin nor
Charge Ælohim wrong at the door.

Who ask what was the meaning of this act
Of God, catastrophe or plague in fact
Charge You, Beloved, with perpetrating wrong.
A pious face will not change tune or song.
Find purpose in the evil thing is to
Charge You, Beloved, with evil. That is true.
The role of man and me in this wide world
Is not to find out why the flag’s unfurled
In violence and hopeless ravaging.
Such come not from Your heart, but from the king.
The role of man and me is nakedness
Upon the gallows floor, except the dress
Of blessing Your name in both word and deed.
I have no other joy nor other need.

JOB 2

1 Again there was a day the sons
Of Ælohim came in their tons
To present themselves before YHWH,
And Satan came among them too
To present himself before YHWH.
2 And YHWH said to Satan, “From where
Do you come?” So Satan with care
Answered YHWH and said, “From going
To and fro on the earth to sing,
And walking back and forth on it.”
3 Then YHWH said to Satan alit,
“Have you noticed My servant Job,
That there is none like him in robe
Upon the earth, a blameless and
An upright man, who heart and hand
Fears Ælohim and cannot stand
Evil? And still he holds fast to
His righteousness, despite when you
Incited Me against him, to
Destroy him without cause or due.”
4 So Satan answered YHWH and said,
“Skin for skin! Yes, all a man’s led
He will give for his life. 5 “But stretch
Out Your hand now, give bone a fetch
And touch his flesh, and he will curse
You surely to Your face or worse!”
6 And YHWH said to Satan, “Behold,
He’s in your hand, but spare him cold.”

Beloved, I may be in the hand of tyrant
Who fails not to oppress worthy aspirant
To Your law and Your favour. I do not
Beg You to better one poor dervish lot.
Instead I ask that tyranny not be
So prevalent that such is all I see
And thus become participant in it
For blindness to the good. The better fit
Of clothes of light I would prefer to woollen,
And new potatoes, corn and beans to bullion.
Let me rejoice in visions of tomato
And leave the rubies hidden in their grotto.
Then spare or not my life, but let me know
That You are present in the path I go.

7 So went Satan out from the sight
Of YHWH and struck Job with the might
Of boils from the sole of his foot
To the place where the crown is put.
8 And he took a potsherd to scrape
Himself with it, and sat agape
Among the ashes in such shape.
9 Then said his wife to him, “Do you
Still keep your integrity due?
Saying ‘See I shall wait a while,
Expecting my salvation’s smile?’
See, your memory is blotted out
From earth, both daughters and sons stout,
The pangs and pains my womb in vain
Bore in sorrows and without gain,
And you yourself sit down to spend
The nights under the sky to fend
Corruption of the worms you tend,
While I wander from place to place
A servant in each house disgrace,
Waiting for the sun to go down
That I may rest from labour’s frown
And the pains that beset my view:
Curse God and die there in your pew.”
10 But he told her, “You speak as one
Of the foolish women undone.
Shall we surely take of the good
That Ælohim gives, and so should
We not accept adversity?”
No sin was in Job’s lip’s decree.

I too might curse, Belovèd, if I knew
Which is the blessing and which is the true
And which the curse. The limits on my vision
Teach me to circumspection in decision.
The pain and pleasure principle may be
A rule of thumb, experience, though, can see
That oftentimes the twisting rope of senses
Is product of an ailing paunch or menses.
The blessing is the blessing of Your law,
In pain or pleasure, there I stand in awe.
I scrape my boils and eat my cakes of ashes.
I dream I take from You, despite the sashes,
Celestial windows’ goods unmixed with ill,
The honeyed cake and healing bitter pill.

11 Now when Job’s three friends heard the tale
Of evil that came without fail
On him, they came each one from home,
Eliphaz the Temanite gnome,
And Bildad the Shuhite, Zophar
The Naamathite, they all came far
In rendez-vous to mourn with him
As well as come to comfort him.
12 And when they lifted up their eyes
Far off, they did not recognize
Him, and they raised their voice and wept,
And they each one tore his cape kept,
And scattered dust upon their heads
Toward the sky that upward spreads.
13 So they sat down with him upon
The ground for seven days from dawn
And seven nights, and not one spoke
A word to him, they saw the stroke
Of grief was very great like oak.

I have no friend as good as those of Job.
None weep at my disaster, tear the robe,
Nor put dust on their heads. Perhaps the times
And mores go far to mitigate my crimes.
I doubt that I could take such friend so long
As seven days, so You do me no wrong,
Beloved, that You have made my friends be few
And far behind the things the wicked do,
And reticent to show me their emotion.
But my friends also have this common notion
That losses are an opportunity
To gloat and see if anything’s for free.
As one is, so one’s friends, Beloved, I take
You only for my friend, forget the wake.

JOB 3

1 After this opened Job his mouth,
And cursed his day from north to south.
2 So spoke Job and also he said
3 “Let the day perish I was led
To be born, and the night when said
‘There is a man child conceived here.’
4 “Let that day be darkness and fear,
Let not Allah standing above
Regard it in eternal love,
Nor let shine on it light of day.
5 “Let darkness and death’s shadow take
It for their own, let a cloud’s wake
Stay on it, but let blackness rake.
6 “As for that night let darkness seize
It, let it not be joined to frieze
Of the year’s days, let it not come
To be numbered of the months’ sum.
7 “See, let that night be desolate,
Let no joyful voice be its mate.
8 “Let them curse it that curse the day
Ready to rise in mourning’s sway
Against leviathan to play.
9 “Let the obscure stars of it fail,
Let it seek light to no avail,
Nor find the morning eyelids pale,
10 “Because it did not shut the doors
Of my matrix, and kept the stores
Of sorrow that my eye implores.

The longest day of the year was the day
That Job was born, and so to curse the grey
Of that twilight that night and day are not
Counted among the years along their plot,
But every year is just the round that’s made
By the three hundred sixty-four that stayed
In Jubilees, the calendar for spite
That counts the Sabbath years and counts them right.
For this, Beloved, there comes a fatal spring
When for a week my spirit takes not wing
But mourns the sorrow of Job and his wife
And turns away for Scriptures’ joys and strife.
Beloved, when I sit for the troubled week,
It’s still Your face I turn and turn to seek.

11 “Why did I not die at the womb?
Nor at my birth meet once my doom?
12 “Why did the lap give me a place,
Why did the breasts give me their grace?
13 “Then I should have lain at my rest
And in silence slept on earth’s breast,
14 “With kings and counsellors of earth
Who built tombs for themselves of worth,
15 “Or with princes with gold in hand
Filling with silver house and land.
16 “Or once aborted I had been
As infants seeing light nor sin.
17 “In that place the wicked cease care,
And the weary make rest their share.
18 “The prisoners together rest,
They hear no voice that once oppressed.
19 “The small and great equally lie
Where servant’s free from master’s eye.

Beloved, if all are equal in the grave,
Both king and master and the poor and slave,
What difference can monument then bring?
The only memory’s to hear one sing
The blessing of Your name upon the wing
Of cantillation of the Scriptures’ word
By which all things in sky and earth occurred.
Beloved, if all are equal in the tomb,
I take advantage of my breath and room
To praise Your name and thank You for the share
I have in living misery and care
As well as joy and beauty in the air
And meadow by the forest where I live.
Beloved, I praise You while You take and give.

20 Why is light given to one who sits
In misery, and life that fits
The bitter soul 21 who longs for death
That does not come to take his breath,
And digs for it more than the one
Who seeks out hidden treasures’ run,
22 Who rejoices exceeding glad
To find a grave that may be had,
23 To a man whose path’s hidden night
And whom Allah binds from His sight?
24 My sighing comes before I eat,
My screaming pours like waters meet.
25 For what I feared most fell on me,
And the most frightful comes to be.
26 I was not in security,
I had no rest nor quiet place,
And yet trouble’s before my face.

The human cry of grand despair comes only
When righteous ones in righteousness feel lonely.
They only see futility of princes’
Amassing gold before which the soul winces.
The small and great go to the grave with care
With or without the silver chain and hair.
The golden flesh of gods adds not a day
To human life, nor does the silver stay
The plague, the weakness of the hand and eye.
To long for death belongs to any guy
No matter whether purse is empty or
Filled with the treasures of a great king’s store.
I’m satisfied with mornings dark and few
As long as though unseen they’re spent with You.

JOB 4

1 Then Eliphaz the Temanite
Answered saying what he thought right.
2 Shall we try a word to you now,
You are grievously tried somehow?
But who can keep from speaking up?
3 See, you have taught many and you
Have strengthened weak hands not a few.
4 Your words have upheld fainting ones,
And you have strengthened knees and buns.
5 But now that it falls on your head,
You faint. It touches your vast spread
And you are troubled and unfed.
6 Your fear became your confidence,
Your hope your uprightness’ defence.
7 Remember now whoever failed
When he was innocent and veiled?
Or where were righteous ones cut off?
8 Even as I have seen them scoff,
Who plough iniquity and sow
Wickedness reap the evil show.

The task in ancient times was not complaint
That evil in the world proves God is faint.
The atheistic view parochial today
Was not the song they used to sing or lay.
In those days evil was the proof exact
That God was punishing the wicked act,
And every man that suffered on the shore
Was known to be a sinner what is more.
Beloved, I doubt both atheist and fraud
Of the sweet Christian in the way she clawed.
The evil that I see proves not that You
Do not exist, nor that the suffering’s due
To punishment that You dish out with brew.
I am agnostic of both to the core.

9 By Allah’s blast they fall down dead,
Consumed by His nostrils’ breath spread.
10 The lion’s roar, fierce lion’s voice,
Young lions’ teeth are cracked by choice.
11 The lion though strong falls in death
For lack of prey, and at a breath
The stout lion’s cups scatter wide.
12 A word was secretly brought me,
My ear received a little fee.
13 In thoughts from visions of the night,
When deep sleep falls upon men’s plight,
14 Fear came upon me, trembling so
It made all my bones shake and go.
15 A spirit passed before my face,
My body hair stood up in place.
16 It stopped, but I could see no form,
An image by my eyes did swarm
Till in the silence I heard sound.

The shudder of the spirit wind where fails
The breeze and damps beyond where human quails
Is taken as full proof that what is heard
Is prophecy more stout than omen bird.
When leaves rustle without the breath of wind
The soul forgets the gory way she sinned
And takes the motion for a sign that truth
Is cheap enough for every dangling youth.
The image in the eye is truer thought
That what can be measured and sold and bought,
And overcomes the scruple of good sense
And reason and morality in fence.
Beloved, I trash the vision and the groan
And trust in You, You only and alone.

17 Shall mortal man’s justice aground
Be greater than that of Allah?
Shall man be more pure in his paw
Than his own maker at the draw?
18 See, He lay no confidence in
His servants, and His angels’ kin
He charged with foolishness in bin.
19 How much less then in those who dwell
In clay houses, in dusty cell,
Crushed by the moth in flight a spell?
20 They are destroyed from morn till night,
They perish ever without sight.
21 Does not their very beauty fail?
They die, no wisdom to avail.

The revelation of cause and effect
Makes men arise and bow down with respect
For such great knowledge of the universe,
That all things happen for their own true reasons,
And all inexorably in their seasons,
Go on set course for better or for worse.
The human mind shies from catastrophe
And in its face denies what eye must see.
His reasons he supports with idle dreams
Decked out in occult revelations’ beams.
To deny what each man knows in his skin
And flesh, a thousand well-shod prophets sin.
Beloved, I know that pain may come though all
A man has done has been Your beck and call.

JOB 5

1 Call now if any answer you,
To which holy ones turn to view?
2 Anger indeed kills foolish men,
And envy slays slight ones again.
3 I’ve seen the foolish taking root,
And cursed the planting of his foot.
4 Let his children be far from fare,
Crushed in the gate when none is there
To save them from the grinding snare,
5 Whose harvest hungry teeth consume,
And even spoiling the thorn’s room,
Robber to swallow their wealth’s bloom.
6 Although affliction does not come
Out of the dust nor trouble’s sum
Out of the ground, 7 still man is born
To trouble like vultures forlorn
Send their young upward in the morn.

The human flight afflicted is secure
Despite the rates of comfort that inure
The mind and heart to every daunting woe.
Death is the end of every road men go.
The ride of life is in a hearse and all
The laughter and the merriment in call
Do naught but shorten that brief journey till
The final rest is found in dale or hill.
Beloved, I seek my rest today in You
And with each breath that may be last in view
I whisper Your name and taste on my tongue
The sweetness in age of the being young.
Beloved, I seek my final rest again
In You alone and in no hope of men.

8 So I would flee to El God, to
El God would I commit my due,
9 Who does great things untraceable,
And marvels without number full,
10 Who grants the rain upon the earth,
And sends water on fields from dearth,
11 To set on high those that are low,
So those who mourn may not be slow
To rise and sit in safety’s glow.
12 He brings to naught the plans of men
Cunning, so that their hands again
Cannot perform their enterprise.
13 He takes the wise in their own craft,
On wicked counsel He has laughed.
14 They find the darkness in the day,
And grope at noon as in night’s sway.

The plans of men are cut in grief just when
The least expected, all hopes die again.
The sunlight is a traitor with the store
Of hope and love and laughter at the door.
In youth I planned a life set to the full
Of work and happiness and miracle.
I look back on three-quarters of my fate
(If I am blessed to have the average rate)
And see the barren just beginnings of
The things I thought in store in gift and love.
A few books written, hardly any wine,
The most of fruit now shrivelled on the vine,
I find the end is looming while the start
Was never started from my hopeful heart.

15 But He saves the poor from the sword
Of their mouth and is oft implored
From the power of the mighty gored.
16 The poor has hope and so the weak,
But the unjust mouth’s stopped for cheek.
17 See, blessed is the man Allah shows
Correction, so despise no blows
Of the Almighty where He chose.
18 As He wounds so He shall bind up,
The hand that strikes shall heal the cup.
19 He shall deliver you in time
Of six troubles, the seventh crime
Shall not touch you with harm or rhyme.
20 In famine He’ll redeem from death,
In battle from sword’s power and breath.
21 You shall be hidden from tongue’s whip,
Nor shall you fear destruction’s hip.

Eliphaz as proponent of the pox
That every case of suffering in the flocks
Is punishment and due from You above
Presents his case as filled with divine love
For the poor and afflicted by the host
Of powerful and great who have a boast.
The punishment is just correction that
The God of justice metes out to the flat
Who fail to live according to the rule
That was imposed by common consent’s school.
Beloved, I do not question punishment,
Nor fate of any kind, but I relent
To rejoice in the pleasure that I know
In judgement of my enemy and foe.

22 At plague and famine you shall laugh,
Nor be afraid of beastly gaff.
23 The very stones of the field make
A covenant and for your sake,
The beasts of the field shall make peace
With you and give safety’s release.
24 And you shall know your tent in peace,
And find your dwelling place release,
And not sin more in the increase.
25 You shall know also that your seed
Will be great and your offspring’s feed
Shall be as the earth’s grass in speed.
26 You’ll come in full age to the grave
Like a grainsheaf in time to save.
27 See this, we’ve searched it, so it is.
Hear it and know for your good’s fizz.

Theology that says You consecrate
The righteous to be wealthy in Your state
And laugh at the plagues that do not come near
Their door is something I still find round here.
The very stones of the field are the friends
Of those who never need to make amends,
And those who succeed in their exploitation
Can be sure of their children’s blessèd ration.
Beloved, I ask no fame nor power nor wealth
Be given to my children for their stealth,
But only that they live from day to day
Within the brightness of divine law’s sway.
And for myself I ask no greater gift
Than that I too be found in the same shrift.

JOB 6

1 Then Job gave answer, and he said
2 Oh that my grief were rightly spread,
And my calamity laid bare
In balances together there!
3 It would be heavier than the sand
Upon the seashore, by the land,
That’s why my words appear unscanned.
4 The arrows of Shaddai in me
Poison my dried up spirit free,
The terrors of Allah are set
Arrayed around me and are met.
5 Does the wild ass bray when he’s fed
With grass, or does the ox with dread
Low while before him fodder’s spread?
6 Can tasteless food without salt please?
Or is there taste in egg white cheese?
7 The things my soul refused to touch
Are as my food in grief as much.

It is the common lot of men to bray
After the pain and sorrow of the day,
And for the victim of deceit and fraud
To be despised and condemned by the pawed.
The justice humans feel is for the one
Who wins the day when everything is done,
And counts the ones he tramples underfoot
Deserving of the pain to which they’re put.
Beloved, tell me You take another view,
Since You are just and good in Your own pew.
Tell me that You despise reality,
Not that You are the owner of the fee.
Then I like all men shall not turn my eyes
Away to choose religion for a prize.

8 Oh that I might have my request;
And that Allah grant me, a pest,
The thing that I long for as best!
9 Even that it would please Allah
To destroy me; that He’d loose claw
Against me and cut off my straw.
10 Then I should still have comfort, aye,
And harden myself at the sty
Of sorrow. So let Him not spare,
For I shall not deny the share
Of the Holy One’s words laid bare.
11 What is my strength, that I should hope?
And what is my end on the rope,
That I should lengthen my life’s grope?
12 Is my strength as the strength of stones?
Or is my flesh of brass and bones?
13 Have I not trusted in His aid
While wisdom’s driven from my grade?
14 To the afflicted let friend show
Pity, but instead on the go
He forsakes the fear of Shaddai.

Maybe Job suffers since he stands to pray
To Allah in the hope of life and stay.
The sweet Christians I know think Allah’s breed
Is just another name for the moon’s seed.
So much for ignorance in Christian pew.
Such people know nothing at all of You,
Beloved, the God of Abraham and true,
Of Jesus and the Bible in the stew.
Beloved, I feel for Job, I’ve seen his cave
And wondered at the light and smallness grave
That was his lot despite his wealth and power.
I’ve sat with Job and talked about his hour,
And made suggestion that Islamic ways
Are in Your patience to seek out Your praise.

15 My very brothers now treat me
With deceit as a stream to be
Flowing with the current away.
16 They look black because of ice sway,
Snow falls on them and melts away.
17 When they have heat they disappear,
When it is hot, they’re consumed here.
18 The paths of their steps turn aside,
They go to nothing to abide.
19 The pathways of Tema look on,
The ways of Sheba wait for dawn.
20 They were confounded in their hope,
They came but then they could not cope.
21 You have no pride or strength at all
Who fear when you see that I fall.

Ha! My brothers also treat me with fleece!
There’s no church I can enter and with peace,
And synagogues are founded for the toil
Of Jewish wights who do not want my spoil.
Samaritan will take no convert near,
And Muslims try to pull me by the ear.
I understand Job’s plaint for treachery,
I’ve heard his comforters alive and free
Present their case before my ear and eye
To say that You are one of three nearby,
Or treasure of the few who hold the bill,
And measure out forgiveness to the nill,
Who accept baptisms by Trinity,
Or bow to Mecca trying to be free.

22 Did I request you bring me gifts,
Or ask for a reward that lifts?
23 Or that you should deliver me
From my foes and the enemy,
Rescue me from power of mighty?
24 Teach me, and I will hold my tongue,
Make me see how I’ve sinned and sung.
25 How right words carry lots of weight,
But what’s your wrangling in rebate?
26 You make speeches just for reproof,
In desperation and in spoof.
27 You overwhelm the orphan and
You betray your own friends in band.
28 Since you’ve accomplished your task see
If there is some deceit in me.
29 Reply, I pray without deceit,
Judge now in a righteous retreat.
30 Is there wickedness in my tongue?
I can taste when the evil’s stung.

There’s no reply from those who rule the state
And prance about the altar with the mate
In fancy robes with crosier held in hand,
All purpled up and crimsoned in the band.
There’s no reply when any man asks why
He is forlorn beneath a barren sky,
Except that You bless those who do the right,
And those who suffer, suffer in Your sight.
Beloved, the modern man asks other things.
He wonders why evil at all in springs
Is cast on earth, since You are one born good.
I spit on philosophy’s questionings,
And scorn the atheist’s doubts of Your rings.
I think I in justice do as I should.

JOB 7

1 Is there not an appointed time
For man to live in the earth’s clime,
And his days also like the days
Of one hired by the hour for pays?
2 Just as a servant greatly looks
For the sundial’s shade in its nooks
And as a hired man hopes to gain
His salary after the pain,
3 So I follow my months in vain
And bear the nights where I have lain.
4 I lie down saying “I wish night
Were gone and I might see the light”
And then I toss and turn until
The dawning of day on the hill.
5 My flesh is decked in worms and dust,
My skin once healed breaks out and pussed,
6 My days more swiftly than the shuttle
Of a weaver fly in rebuttal,
And without hope for all the strife.
7 O remember now that my life
Is only breath, my eye shall see
No more good in haven or lea.

The argument that all men die on earth
And therefore suffering does not show the death
Of man’s obedience to Your law is one
That satisfies my questions when I’m done.
To suffer does not prove a man has sinned,
Since all die appointed to dust and binned.
Besides that, days of life fly quickly past,
And no joy here is entertained to last.
The righteous as well as the sinners cast
About for one more glass of wine and yet
Another laugh before the sail is set.
One tide takes all down to the grave, both those
Who keep Your law as well as cads who chose
To drink upon the brink and thus to doze.

8 The eye that sees me shall lose sight,
Your eyes lie on me, I’m requite.
9 The cloud is dissipated and
Who enters grave no more shall stand.
10 He shall not return to his house,
None shall know him there, no, nor spouse.
11 Therefore I’ll not refrain my mouth,
I’ll speak in spirit’s anguish south
And north I shall complain in toll
Of bitterness upon my soul.
12 Am I a sea or whale that you
Set a guard upon me to view?
13 When I say “My bed shall ease me,
My couch comfort complaint I see,”
14 You frighten me with dreams and yet
In terror I see visions set.

From the creation to this very time
Your sight alone creates or weighs the crime,
Your breath makes the soul come to life until
You breathe it out again in nothing’s till.
With all the power You give me and the right
I make complaint about the day and night.
Wherever I turn in my prayer from sight
Of You, I find You guarding me for spite.
I sleep, yes, but I dream, and none can know
If dreams still frighten beyond deathly show.
I ease myself by my complaint abroad
And teach my lips to tremble on the sod.
Beloved, though I turn from Your blazing hand,
I turn to turn to You and Your command.

15 My soul chooses strangling and death,
Rather than life and to have breath.
I loath life, I would never take
On me immortality’s lake,
Leave me alone, for my days quake.
17 What’s man, that You should honour him?
That You should set hope on the dim?
18 That You should find him there each morn,
And try him each moment since born?
19 How long will You not leave me now,
Let me alone till I somehow
Swallow my spittle in the trough?
20 I’ve sinned, what shall I do for You,
O You preserver of men’s crew?
Why have You set me as a mark
Against You, weighed down in the dark?
21 Why don’t You pardon me my sin,
And take away by wicked bin?
For now shall I sleep in the dust,
And You shall seek me in the trust
Of morning, and I’ll be but rust.

The suffering of humankind is great,
It’s infinite in one brief moment’s state,
And in the quiver that lets the mind go
Into the darkness of oblivion’s show.
You bloat, Beloved, that You can suffer one
Without the limitations of the dawn,
In infinite time and outside of time,
In places human beings never climb.
Beloved, the human heart is greater than
Your heart, because it’s given that we can
Suffer eternity in time’s brief share
While You must have all years in which to bear.
We can in just one moment take the weight
Of infinite in pain as well as hate.

JOB 8

Then answered Bildad the Shuhite,
And said: How long will you incite
To speech? The words of your mouth reach
Like a strong wind as if to preach.
3 Does God make a wrong judgement, or
Does the Almighty fake the score?
4 If your children have come to sin
Against Him and He throws in bin
Those that transgress by hand or shin,
5 If you would seek El in between,
And El Shaddai for prayer on scene,
6 If you were pure and upright, now
Surely He would wake anyhow
For you, and make prosper your brow.
7 Though your beginning was small fleeced,
Your end would be greatly increased.

Bildad is wise to note that wealth and riches
Raise the shaded soul out of strife and ditches,
And that the man who lacks in well-set stitches
Lacks also goodness for his gathered fitches.
The pain is proof of unfoiled wickedness,
And God prospers every unsound address
That makes repentance and is daily pure.
If God does not reply, it’s a thing sure
The man that prays today prays but in vain
Because that man deserved the punished pain.
Today I see the tightened victim of
Crime is the guilty one to hit and shove
In every church and mosque and synagogue,
Among the human trash, if not by dog.

8 Just take a look at former times,
See our ancestors in their crimes,
9 For we of yesterday know naught,
Our days on earth are shadow brought,
10 Shall they not teach you and reveal
The words that in their heart appeal?
11 Can water reeds grow without mire?
Can cattails prosper in the fire?
12 Whilst it is still green, not cut down,
It fades before the herb in town.
13 So are the paths of all forgetting
El in hypocrite’s hope on-setting,
14 Whose hope shall be cut off, and whose
Trust in a spider’s web accuse.

The great appeal to long statistics held
Above one’s own experience that spelled
The faith and trust a soul may gain for fire
Is not an argument that fits desire.
Just because generations in the past
Both sinned and suffered consequence to last,
Is not proof that my suffering here and now
Is punishment for secrets on my brow.
Beloved, I give the congregation met
Of Job’s sweet friends and comforters the set,
And take my way on Sabbath day to find
Retreat alone from those who blame the blind.
Both dumb and blind I raise a Psalm in praise
To You who bless the goings of my haze.

15 He shall lean on his house, and it
Shall not stand, he shall hold a bit,
But it shall not remain as fit.
16 He’s green before the sun, his branch
Sprouts out in the fields of his ranch,
17 His roots are wrapped around the heap,
And finds the place a stony keep.
18 If He destroy him from his place,
Then He’ll deny him in a trace,
Saying, I have not seen your face.
19 See this is the joy of His way,
Out of earth shall others give ray.
20 Behold, God will not cast aside
The perfect, neither will abide
The evil doer, but deride,
21 Till He fill your mouth with the share
Of laughter and your lips to bear
Rejoicing for your lack of care.
22 Those who hate you shall be ashamed,
The dwelling of wicked be blamed.

How true it is that You, Beloved, will not
Cast off the pure in heart, the righteous plot!
But see here how fast human hearts can take
The truth and bend it for the wicked sake.
That Your care does extend to righteous men
Is not proof that those who suffer again
Are therefore not righteous in what they do,
Performing each command that’s come from You.
Beloved, I thank You for the providence
That fixes hope and health upon the fence
Of this world in precarious combat.
I thank You now, Beloved, for where You’re at.
But as I thank You, I hold that the pain
Of living in a dark world is not vain.

AUTHOR: THOMAS G. MCELWAIN

Copyright © 2007 Adams & McElwain Publishers and Thomas McElwain First Published in two volumes, The Beloved and I 2005, and Led of the Beloved, 2006. Second Edition, 2010 Third and revised edition, 2012 All rights reserved. No part of this verse commentary on the sacred Scriptures may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from publisher.

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