He Justifies His Rash Words (6:1-7)

CHAPTER 6

1 And Job answered and said, 2 Oh that my grief were thoroughly weighed, and all my calamity laid in the balances! 3 For now it would be heavier than the sand of the seas; therefore my words are vehement. 4 For the arrows of the Almighty are within me, their poison drinketh up my spirit: the terrors of +God are arrayed against me. 5 Doth the wild ass bray by the grass? loweth an ox over his fodder? 6 Shall that which is insipid be eaten without salt? Is there any taste in the white of an egg? 7 What my soul refuseth to touch, that is as my loathsome food.

He Longs for Death, While His Integrity is Still Intact (6:8-13)

8 Oh that I might have my request, and that +God would grant my desire! 9 And that it would please +God to crush me, that he would let loose his hand and cut me off! 10 Then should I yet have comfort; and in the pain which spareth not I would rejoice that I have not denied the words of the Holy One. 11 What is my strength, that I should hope? and what is mine end, that I should have patience? 12 Is my strength the strength of stones? is my flesh of brass? 13 Is it not that there is no help in me, and soundness is driven away from me?

Job Reproaches His Friends (6:14-23)

14 For him that is fainting kindness is meet from his friend; or he forsaketh the fear of the Almighty. 15 My brethren have dealt deceitfully as a stream, as the channel of streams which pass away, 16 Which are turbid by reason of the ice, in which the snow hideth itself: 17 At the time they diminish, they are dried up; when heat affecteth them, they vanish from their place: 18 They wind about in the paths of their course, they go off into the waste and perish. 19 The caravans of Tema looked, the companies of Sheba counted on them: 20 They are ashamed at their hope; they come thither, and are confounded. 21 So now ye are nothing; ye see a terrible object and are afraid. 22 Did I say, Bring unto me, and make me a present from your substance? 23 Or, rescue me from the hand of the oppressor, and redeem me from the hand of the violent?

He Challenges Them to Show Him Where He has Sinned (6:24-30)

24 Teach me, and I will hold my tongue; and cause me to understand wherein I have erred. 25 How forcible are right words! but what doth your upbraiding reprove? 26 Do ye imagine to reprove words? The speeches of one that is desperate are indeed for the wind. 27 Yea, ye overwhelm the fatherless, and dig a pit for your friend. 28 Now therefore if ye will, look upon me; and it shall be to your face if I lie. 29 Return, I pray you, let there be no wrong; yea, return again, my righteousness shall be in it. 30 Is there wrong in my tongue? cannot my taste discern mischievous things?

Job Now Resumes His Complaint (7:1-10)

CHAPTER 7

1 Hath not man a life of labour upon earth? and are not his days like the days of a hireling? 2 As a bondman earnestly desireth the shadow, and a hireling expecteth his wages, 3 So am I made to possess months of vanity, and wearisome nights are appointed to me. 4 If I lie down, I say, When shall I rise up, and the darkness be gone? and I am full of tossings until the dawn. 5 My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin is broken, and suppurates. 6 My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and are spent without hope. 7 Remember thou that my life is wind; mine eye shall no more see good. 8 The eye of him that hath seen me shall behold me no more: thine eyes are upon me, and I am not. 9 The cloud consumeth and vanisheth away; so he that goeth down to Sheol shall not come up. 10 He shall return no more to his house, neither shall his place know him again.

Job Speaks Out in the Anguish of His Soul (7:11-21)

11 Therefore I will not restrain my mouth: I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul. 12 Am I a sea, or a sea-monster, that thou settest a watch over me? 13 When I say, My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaint; 14 Then thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me through visions; 15 So that my soul chooseth strangling, death, rather than my bones. 16 I loathe it; I shall not live always: let me alone, for my days are a breath. 17 What is man, that thou makest much of him? and that thou settest thy heart upon him? 18 And that thou visitest him every morning, triest him every moment? 19 How long wilt thou not look away from me, nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle? 20 Have I sinned, what do I unto thee, thou Observer of men? Why hast thou set me as an object of assault for thee, so that I am become a burden to myself? 21 And why dost not thou forgive my transgression and take away mine iniquity? for now shall I lie down in the dust, and thou shalt seek me early, and I shall not be.

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