TEXT [Commentary]

  2.   Days of derision (30:1-31)

1 “But now I am mocked by people younger than I,

by young men whose fathers are not worthy to run with my sheepdogs.

2 A lot of good they are to me—

those worn-out wretches!

3 They are gaunt from poverty and hunger.

They claw the dry ground in desolate wastelands.

4 They pluck wild greens from among the bushes

and eat from the roots of broom trees.

5 They are driven from human society,

and people shout at them as if they were thieves.

6 So now they live in frightening ravines,

in caves and among the rocks.

7 They sound like animals howling among the bushes,

huddled together beneath the nettles.

8 They are nameless fools,

outcasts from society.

9 “And now they mock me with vulgar songs!

They taunt me!

10 They despise me and won’t come near me,

except to spit in my face.

11 For God has cut my bowstring.

He has humbled me,

so they have thrown off all restraint.

12 These outcasts oppose me to my face.

They send me sprawling

and lay traps in my path.

13 They block my road

and do everything they can to destroy me.

They know I have no one to help me.

14 They come at me from all directions.

They jump on me when I am down.

15 I live in terror now.

My honor has blown away in the wind,

and my prosperity has vanished like a cloud.

16 “And now my life seeps away.

Depression haunts my days.

17 At night my bones are filled with pain,

which gnaws at me relentlessly.

18 With a strong hand, God grabs my shirt.[*]

He grips me by the collar of my coat.

19 He has thrown me into the mud.

I’m nothing more than dust and ashes.

20 “I cry to you, O God, but you don’t answer.

I stand before you, but you don’t even look.

21 You have become cruel toward me.

You use your power to persecute me.

22 You throw me into the whirlwind

and destroy me in the storm.

23 And I know you are sending me to my death—

the destination of all who live.

24 “Surely no one would turn against the needy

when they cry for help in their trouble.

25 Did I not weep for those in trouble?

Was I not deeply grieved for the needy?

26 So I looked for good, but evil came instead.

I waited for the light, but darkness fell.

27 My heart is troubled and restless.

Days of suffering torment me.

28 I walk in gloom, without sunlight.

I stand in the public square and cry for help.

29 Instead, I am considered a brother to jackals

and a companion to owls.

30 My skin has turned dark,

and my bones burn with fever.

31 My harp plays sad music,

and my flute accompanies those who weep.

NOTES

30:3 It is likely there is some disarray in the Heb. text in this verse. The usually literal Qumran Targum (11QtgJob) is variant at this line (van der Ploeg and van der Woude 1971:41); though fragmentary, the preserved words read “in hunger they desired the green of the desert.” The word ‘araq is found only in this verse and in 30:17, and “gnaw” does not fit well in either instance but is based on Arabic and Syriac (the Ugaritic evidence is dubious).

desolate wastelands. “By night in desolate waste” (Pope 1965:193) is an attempt to understand the Heb. that shouldn’t be dismissed, as it is an evident alliteration. The Heb. for “by night” usually means “yesterday” (cf. KJV, “former time”) but might indicate the previous night or the coming of darkness.

30:4 They pluck wild greens from among the bushes. The outcasts gather edible desert plants described lit. as “salty leaves on the shrubs.” These are usually identified as saltwort, a low, straggling bush with thick, sour tasting leaves, eaten only by those on the edge of starvation. The mallow (KJV, RSV), an annual herb whose fruit, leaves, and seed were used as food, is not meant here (it may be referred to in 6:6, see the note there).

eat from the roots of broom trees. This is not the correct meaning; there is no reference to food (KJV, NAB) in this phrase. Rather than using the roots “for food” (lakhmam [TH3899, ZH4312]), we must read “for heat” (lekhummam [TH2552, ZH2801]); the heat was used to prepare the “wild greens” mentioned in the preceeding line. The text should be read this way because the plant mentioned (rothem [TH7574, ZH8413], “broom tree”) is famous for the heat its roots produce when burned (cf. Ps 120:4), but those roots are nauseous and even poisonous and cannot be eaten. The broom tree is a desert shrub that grows 4 to 12 feet high and has straight long branches and small leaves.

30:5 driven from human society. They are driven from the community, from the midst of the people.

30:8 nameless fools. They are of ill repute and “whipped out of the land” (Roth 1960:402). The fool (nabal [TH5036A, ZH5572]) is one who does evil, reaps the reward of evil deeds, and is driven from society as an outcast. “Fool” always has the connotation of godlessness, someone outside the covenant, and therefore also someone ostracized from the community.

30:11 bowstring. The metaphor of a “tent cord” is preferable to “bowstring,” though the Heb. word is used for both. Life is compared to a tent that collapses (cf. 4:21; Isa 38:12), not to a bow.

thrown off all restraint. They “let loose the bridle” (KJV), a vivid image of an unrestrained, runaway animal.

30:13 do everything they can to destroy me. The text does not say “they have no helper” (KJV, NIV), which makes no sense here. Many translations (RSV, NRSV, REB, NAB, NJB) read along the lines of “restrain” (‘atsar [TH6113, ZH6806]), a minor emendation from the phonetically equivalent word, “help” (‘azar) [TH5826, ZH6468]; Gordis (1978:334) on the basis of Arabic says ‘azar can mean either “help” or “prevent.” The change from “them” (lu) to “me” (li) is also a minor emendation (NLT). The disarray of 11QtgJob on this verse (van der Ploeg and van der Woude 1971:42-43) suggests the Heb. was already problematic in the first century BC.

30:15 My honor has blown away in the wind. The difficulty of the grammar has led to various translations: “my honor is pursued” (RSV) simply changes the form of the Heb. verb, while “swept away” (REB) or “dispersed” (NJB) assumes a change of verb. “My dignity has disappeared as the wind” fits the comparison to wind and the vanishing prosperity of the next line, though this meaning for the verb is somewhat conjectural (Koehler and Baumgartner 4:1112).

my prosperity. The word can refer to material prosperity or the power to bring justice and deliverance, namely rank and position. Since respect and honor are central themes in the chapter, the latter may be more appropriate.

30:17 gnaws at me relentlessly. The dubious meaning “gnaw” (cf. 30:3) makes it more likely that a body part is meant, which is parallel to bones in the first line, which are said to be “pierced.” Here, the Gr. says the sinews or tendons are sundered, but “sundered” departs from the Heb., which says “had no rest” (cf. NLT’s “relentlessly”). “Veins” (REB) is based on an Arabic comparison. The Arabic may confirm the Gr., since veins, sinews, and nerves are not sharply distinguished in ancient terminology (de Wilde 1981:295). 11QtgJob is only partially extant here, but it translates this verse as a “burning in my bones” and possibly “tendons” (van der Ploeg and van der Woude 1971:42-43). The evidence of the translations presents a case of double jeopardy, since the translator may have had a different text than the MT and may have been paraphrasing as well. In this case, however, the versions are as good as any other evidence we have for the meaning of the MT.

30:18 grabs my shirt. This is actually an alteration of the Heb., which speaks about a change in the garment (khapas [TH2664, ZH2924]) rather than the garment being seized (tapas [TH8610, ZH9530]). The subject is the garment, though God may be inferred as the one who changes or seizes the garment. The symbolic reference to clothing in the previous chapter (29:14) may be the clue to the appearance of clothing in this lament (Wolfers 1994d:571-572), since the complaint of Job in his suffering is set in deliberate contrast to his former state. This line can be paraphrased “my clothing has changed completely.”

grips me by the collar of my coat. NJPS translates this as “the neck of my tunic fits my waist.” Interpreted this way (which is scarcely even a paraphrase of the Heb.), the metaphor describes a loss of weight so severe the garments are completely out of proportion to the body. The question is whether there is a reference to collar or neck at all; the word “mouth” (peh [TH6310, ZH7023]) is used once to refer to the opening for the head in a garment for a priest (Exod 28:32), but ancient garments did not have a collar or even what we would call a neck. The expression used here (kepi) indicates comparison everywhere else, and it should not be taken differently in this line. The line may be paraphrased “my garment clings to me like my underwear,” resuming the subject from the previous line. The meaning of this must be in reference to the metaphorical use of garments (cf. 29:14).

30:24 no one would turn against the needy. This is the sense of the verse, which appears to be textually defective. Attempts to restore it (e.g., Driver and Gray 1921:2.219) have not produced a consensus of any kind. The problem is as old as the earliest translations (Grabbe 1977:101-102 provides a convenient list). The later Targums actually provided two translations, and the manuscripts are not consistent on the pronouns. It is best to work with the Heb. as it is; “needy” is a translation of the word “ruined” (‘i [TH5856, ZH6505])—the word used for the city Ai (ruin) in Joshua. “Sending the hand” is always in a hostile sense, so Job is saying that one should not strike the ruined.

cry for help in their trouble. “Yet no beggar held out his hand to me in vain for relief” (REB) assumes an unusual meaning for the expression “stretch out the hand,” a conjectured form of the word “help” (Reider 1952:129), and other textual changes. The Heb. is elliptical but can be translated either as “in disaster there is a cry from them” (cf. NLT, NRSV, NJB) or “in disaster there is consequently a cry.”

COMMENTARY [Text]

In this section, Job describes the bitter existence of the outcasts of society, those who live on the fringe of physical subsistence. He referred to youthful vagabonds, the type unworthy to be trusted with the sheepdogs. Dogs were not “man’s best friend” in ancient Israelite society but a despised, scavenging creature howling on the outskirts of the city (Ps 59:6, 14) and prowling about for fresh blood (Ps 68:23)—one’s enemies were often likened to dogs. These vagabonds were despicable urchins, not worthy to run with the dogs. They taunted people like Job without respect for his age or the person he had been. Such people were unemployable, pitiful to be sure. In their desperation, they were driven to the desert, a dark, foreboding wasteland. There they scavenged for the bitter leaves of the saltwort, one of the few plants of the desert at least partially edible. According to rabbinic legend, it was eaten by the generation in the wilderness that was occupied with building the Tabernacle (b. Qiddushin 66a). These outcasts dug up the roots of the broom tree (30:4), a fitting name for a shrub with long thin branches; the roots of the shrub were famous for their heat, which was useful for warmth and for cooking. No one trusted these “bush people”; they were driven out like thieves. No doubt, in their need, these people would sometimes steal, aggravating their fortunes and their fate. They were driven to find shelter wherever they could among the rocks and ravines of the desert. They sounded like wild animals as they would shout to each other and congregate among the thorny desert shrubs.

Job described these as fools, “outcasts from society” (30:8). The term “fool” always has an ethical component. The fool rejects the covenant and its way of life, the ethics and moral conduct required by it. Their rejection of God and of the respect for others demanded by a godly way of life means they became outcasts. That is the consequence of being unable to function within a respectful society. Their choices exposed them to physical hardship and to the contempt and condescension of those who chose to live in ordered society. It might seem that Job expressed a negative attitude toward them, one that is inconsistent with his own affirmations of the equality of all humanity (cf. 31:13-15). Often, the roles we occupy in life may be in conflict with the ideals we hold. Thomas Jefferson, the author of the Declaration of Independence, with its ringing affirmation of the right of all to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, was a slaveholder all his life, though considered humane and considerate. To some extent, the larger forces of society have the power to coerce conformity to that which we despise. Job was not denying his desire for equality; he was describing a reality. In this case the rejection of the outcasts was, in part, a consequence of their own actions and irresponsibility.

By contrast, Job’s misfortunes came through no fault of his own. To make matters worse, these despicable, culpable, disrespectful fools had made him the object of their contempt, as if they had something to flaunt. They abhorred him and did not hesitate to spit at him. His life had collapsed, the sky had fallen, and the tent cord of his life had been cut, so the uncouth monsters had opportunity to molest without restraint (see note on 30:11). These “birds” did their best to trip him up and direct him down a course of disaster. They attempted to thwart his plans and trouble him, with no one to resist their devious behavior. Job had no defenses—it was as if there was a large breach in what should have been a protective wall so that the troublemakers just streamed through. They charged in and created havoc in a situation that was already in turmoil. All terror had broken loose; there was not a trace of dignity or respect left. At one time, Job had held a position where he could act on behalf of those who truly needed help, but the order of his social world has disintegrated. The disgraced of society shamed him without restraint.

Job’s life had been turned upside-down. In a vivid word picture (30:16-19), Job described the reversal that had transpired. He was suddenly living in physical agony as a social outcast; trouble and need had him in their grip. His bones were on fire; his nerves gave him no rest. Job had been cast into the mire and was like dust and ashes. Dust and ashes could symbolize the physical deterioration caused by disease or the encroachment of death as the disease progressed. But, most likely, dust and ashes have their usual significance of representing affliction (Fohrer 1989:420) and/or lamentation (cf. 2:12). In a grotesque extension of this symbolism, Job says that his whole being has disintegrated to dust and ashes. Sorrow is not an event in his life; his whole existence is nothing but pain and grief. This anguish is much more than just physical misery; it is the pain of his life as a social outcast, which he has just described (30:8-15). Job described the change in terms of clothing (30:18), mysterious both in terms of the image itself and of its symbolism for the life of Job. Though the image could be that of God throwing Job into the mud, as he had said previously (cf. 9:31), the application here is quite different. At the end of chapter 9, Job was speaking of the filth of his guilt, but that is not the topic at hand. Here Job is speaking about the changed circumstances of his life in society. The Hebrew says that Job’s garment has changed (see note on 30:18), which is most logically understood in reference to what Job’s garment had been in his former state (cf. 29:14). According to chapter 29, Job had been a respected man who could exercise judgment on behalf of those who were wronged; his garment was righteousness and his turban was justice. These had been stripped from him; a protective and beautiful robe had been reduced to an undergarment clinging to him. Job had lost the robe that would have distinguished him as a judge. He had no robe at all; he had been deprived of even the protective garment to which everyone is entitled. All Job had left was his undergarment—he was among the poorest of the poor, and he was despised. His clothing was nothing but humiliation and rejection, instead of dignity and respect.

The symbolism of clothing is particularly striking. In society, clothing is a mark of status and position. Uniforms and clothing styles are a critical aspect of how we present ourselves and how we are perceived. A friend or family member is transformed into an athlete, a law enforcer, a cleric, a pilot, a doctor, a judge, or any number of distinct roles with a change of uniform. Once the uniform is removed, the person’s status is in a sense reduced to that of an “ordinary Joe.” Clothes are more than symbolic; they are also necessary for function and protection. Job’s reference to his change of clothes refers to both aspects. Not only had he lost his dignity, he had no protection from the elements around him. His burning fever made him a victim to the heat of the day and the cold at night. It was as if he had no clothes. His deprivation left him to be scorned by those who were outcasts, who had no place in society at all. This dramatic change of life had taken place as quickly and completely as a change of clothes.

Job could do nothing to change his situation. He could cry out or he could be silent; either way, the result would be the same. He had been dealt a cruel blow; he had been treated as an enemy. His life had been swept away by the wind and dissolved in the deluge of a storm. Death was all that was left for him. The injustice of it all was inexplicable. No one would strike someone who had already become a heap of ruin. Everyone, especially Job, would have mourned with those who had experienced disaster and would help those who are needy.

Some would argue that every society needs its scapegoats (i.e., those individuals who must bear the guilt that everyone else recognizes in themselves). Girard (1985:17) uses this chapter to argue that the three friends made Job just such a scapegoat in their insistence that he was responsible for the misfortunes that had come upon him. The scapegoat is ostracized from society as the person charged with the guilt of all the others. Though the isolation was the most painful aspect of Job’s situation—as opposed to the honor he had held previously—it cannot be said that Job’s life was a story of his being made an outcast (Levine 1985:131-133). It was not the well-being of the community that was at stake in the life of Job; rather, it was the problem of how God had dealt with Job and how Job understood divine providence. The lament of Job, however, is a reminder of how we can sometimes isolate those who are most in need of help. It is not that they are made a scapegoat, as though they must bear the weaknesses or guilt of others—it may be a simple matter of ignorance or fear. It is difficult to know how to include them, and there may be a fear that including them will reduce the benefactors to being like them. Not knowing what to do may bring avoidance. Worst of all is arrogance, which is all too common. Like the friends of Job, we may assume that the sufferers were responsible for their own misfortunes, and rather than help we may humiliate. What Job described is even worse; it is the ridicule of those who belittle anyone in a position more vulnerable than their own. This is perhaps even more despicable than creating scapegoats who can take our blame.

Job brought his lament to a close with a summary of his pitiful situation. Waiting and hoping had not been of any help (30:26); he had not mounted up with the wings of an eagle (Isa 40:31). His stomach churned and affliction confronted him constantly. His days were dark—the sun never rose in his life. He cried out openly to all who would hear, but he was driven from society to live with the jackals and ostriches of the desert. Job was not actually in the desert, but he was ignored and humiliated so that he became like the desert outcasts he had once despised. To those passing by, his pleas sounded like the wailing of the desert creatures. His disease was frightful. Illness had made his skin turn dark; fever was with him constantly. The music had gone out of his life; all that was left was mournful lamentation.