Job
Chapter 30
Now the Tables Have Turned
And now I am the laughingstock of much younger people, whose fathers I once thought unfit to be put with the dogs in my flock.
Not even their arms were helpful to me for all their vigor had faded,
worn out by hunger and want. They roamed the parched wasteland,
they gathered salt herbs from the brushwood; their food was the roots of the broom plant.
They were banished by their fellowmen who yelled at them as if they were thieves.
They were forced to find shelter in caves, among the ravines and rock crevices.
They brayed among the bushes and huddled in the underbrush.
They were forced to leave the land for being lowly and thoughtless.
And now their sons sing of my disgrace; I have become a byword among them.
They do not hesitate to spit at me; they despise me and keep their distance.
Since God has loosened my strength, they have lost all restraint in my presence.
On my right, the mob rises up, builds siege ramps, and lays traps.
They attack without anyone to stop them.
They advance as if through a wide breach; they come in waves amidst the chaos.
Terror consumes me; my dignity is blown away by the wind, my safety has disappeared like a passing cloud.
And now my soul is poured out because of my days of grief and suffering.
At night, gnawing pain pierces my bones. My veins find no rest.
With power, God has grasped my garment, binding me like the collar of my coat;
throwing me into the mud, where I am now like dust.
I cry out to you, O God, but there’s no answer; I stand but you merely look on.
You have become cruel to me, relentlessly pursuing me with your strong hand.
You lift me up and make me ride until the storm tosses me and throws me down like rain.
I know you will bring me to death, the fate of all living beings.
I did not raise my hand against the poor when he cried for help in his disaster.
Have I not wept for those in trouble? Has not my soul grieved for the poor?
But when I looked for good, I encountered evil; when I waited for light, darkness came.
My heart in turmoil is never at peace, for days of distress have come upon me…
I go about darkened, but not by the sun; if I rise in council, it is to voice my grief.
I have become a brother of jackals, a companion of owls.
My skin blackens and peels; my bones burn with fever.
My harp is tuned to laments, and my flute to sounds of weeping.
Commentaries
Job’s Monologue: End of His Defense.
Job has exhausted all his resources. His attempts to find arbitration have been dismissed. He cannot call upon God, as God has vanished. Additionally, the witnesses are false and would testify against him in court. Job’s lengthy speech continues through chapters 29-31. It starts with a description of his former joyful relationship with God (29), then reflects on his current suffering (30) with a bitter lament, and ends with a plea for his future vindication, along with a firm declaration of innocence supported by a long list of his moral actions (31).
Now the Tables Have Turned.
Now, instead of honor, disgrace, and shame! He is despised even by the lowest of society. Job’s lament shifts to God (20-26). Now, in his time of need, who stands by him (24-26)? Job has spoken of his enemies and of God; now he describes his own condition (16, 17, 28-31). His life is slipping away; he is in pain to the bone; he feels alone and forsaken. Throughout, he has longed for a friend to keep him company. And now, his only friends have become jackals and ostriches—beasts of the desert known for their offensive “language” (29).