1 And now I am the laughing-stock
of people much younger
whose fathers I considered unfit
to put with the dogs of my flock.
2 Not even their arms were helpful to me for all their vigor had gone,
3 worn out by hunger and want.
They roamed the parched wasteland,
4 they gathered salt herbs from the brush wood,
their food was the roots of the broom plant.
5 They were banished by their fellowmen
who shouted at them as if they were thieves.
6 They were forced to seek a home in caves,
among the ravines and rock crevices.
7 They brayed among the bushes
and huddled in the underbrush.
8 They were driven from the land
for being base and senseless.
9 And now their sons sing of my disgrace;
I have become a byword among them.
10 They do not hesitate to spit before me;
they abhor me and keep their distance.
11 Seeing that God has unstrung my bow,
they have cast off restraint in my presence.
12 On my right the rabble rise,
build siege ramps and lay snares.
13 They attack, with none to restrain them.
14 They advance, as through a wide breach;
they come in waves amid the uproar.
15 Terror grips me;
my dignity is blown by the wind
my safety has vanished like a passing cloud.
16 And now my soul is poured out
because of my days of grief and suffering.
17 At night gnawing pain pierces my bones.
My veins have no rest.
18 With power God has caught my garment,
binding me about as the collar of my coat;
19 throwing me into the mire,
where I am now like dust.
20 I cry to you, O God, but there’s no answer;
I stand but you merely look on.
21 You have become cruel to me, you pursue me
mercilessly with your strong hand.
22 You lift me up and make me ride
till the storm tosses and throws me down like rain.
23 I know you will bring me down to death,
the destiny of all the living.
24 I did not raise my hand against the poor
when he cried for help in his disaster.
25 Have I not wept for those in trouble?
Has not my soul grieved for the poor?
26 But when I looked for good, I en countered evil;
when I waited for light, darkness came.
27 My heart in turmoil is never at peace,
for days of distress have come upon me…
28 I go about darkened, but not by the sun;
if I rise in council, it is to voice my grief.
29 I have become a brother of jackals,
a companion of owls.
30 My skin blackens and peels;
my bones burn with fever.
31 My harp is tuned to laments,
and my flute to sounds of weeping.
- Eclesiastes (Qohelet) 12,5
The Book of Job teaches us how much we need the coming of the Son of God. On one hand, as long as God does not present himself openly, we cannot avoid doubting and resenting him. On the other hand, as long as someone feels he alone is responsible for his own perfection, he cannot feel as a child of God does nor come into the reign of grace.
