Chapter 2 of Sefer Iyov is the chapter of the second blow. After Iyov's wealth and children were taken from him, the Satan receives permission to afflict his physical body itself. In this part of the lesson, we will focus from verse 7 onward: the striking of Iyov with severe boils, the words of his wife, his famous reply "Shall we accept good...", and finally the arrival of his three friends to comfort him. We will follow the order of the verses with the explanations of the Malbim, Chazal, and the commentators.
וַיֵּצֵא הַשָּׂטָן מֵאֵת פְּנֵי יְהֹוָה, וַיַּךְ אֶת־אִיּוֹב בִּשְׁחִין רָע מִכַּף רַגְלוֹ וְעַד קָדְקֳדוֹ. - So the Satan went forth from the presence of Hashem, and afflicted Iyov with severe boils from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head.
Why does Scripture state, "So the Satan went forth from the presence of Hashem"? Because no evil emanates directly from Heaven. In order to bring evil into the world, the Satan must leave Hashem's presence, and only once he is no longer "from the presence of Hashem" is he able to strike Iyov with severe boils from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head.
וַיִּקַּח־לוֹ חֶרֶשׂ לְהִתְגָּרֵד בּוֹ, וְהוּא יֹשֵׁב בְּתוֹךְ־הָאֵפֶר. - And he took a potsherd to scrape himself with, and he sat among the ashes.
Iyov takes a potsherd to scrape himself, rubbing against it out of agonizing pain. The Midrash explains: from his waist up, he suffered from dry boils, and dry boils itch terribly, which is why he needed a potsherd to scrape his skin. From his waist down, he suffered from weeping, wet boils, and wet boils require drying - and how are they dried? By sitting in ashes, which absorb the moisture.
This illustrates what Chazal taught in the Gemara regarding one who is overtaken by "many evils and troubles" - this refers to a person stung by both a hornet and a scorpion. Why? Because the remedy for one requires hot water, while the remedy for the other requires cold water. If he applies hot water, the one sting heals while the other worsens; if he immediately switches to cold water, the aggravated sting begins to heal while the one that had improved suffers once more. Such a person is left helpless, unable to find relief, since what cures one condition aggravates the other. This was precisely Iyov's agony: his upper body suffered from dry boils, for which sitting in ashes was agonizing and harmful; yet his lower body suffered from weeping boils, which desperately required sitting in the ashes. Iyov was stricken with two conflicting, mutually exacerbating afflictions.
וַתֹּאמֶר לוֹ אִשְׁתּוֹ: עֹדְךָ מַחֲזִיק בְּתֻמָּתֶךָ? בָּרֵךְ אֱלֹהִים וָמֻת. - And his wife said to him: "Do you still hold fast to your integrity? Bless God and die."
On the simplest level, she is asking him: Are you still clinging to your integrity? After receiving such devastating blows, do you still place hope in the Creator of the world? Do you still expect anything from Him? In plain terms - you have nothing left to lose. It is over; you can see that death is better for you than life, and how can you bring about your death? Through "blessing God." "Bless" here is used as a euphemism (lashon sagi nahor) - meaning blaspheme, Heaven forbid, phrased respectfully. Curse God, and then Hashem will take your life. Put simply: death would be far better for you than living like this.
Yet the Malbim, in his characteristic insight, offers a profound explanation. After the first round of tragedies, what was Iyov's response? "Hashem gave and Hashem has taken away, blessed be the name of Hashem." But after this second blow - Scripture records nothing. It does not say that Iyov blessed God, nor that he thanked Hashem, nor that he declared "blessed be the name of Hashem." What did he do? He chose silence. In truth, already at this stage, his heart was no longer as whole and complete as it had been after the first blow.
And now his wife comes and speaks to him cynically, to taunt him. She says to him: Look, after the first blows, what did you do? You blessed Hashem, you said "Thank You, Master of the Universe" - and what did Hashem do following that? He brought you even more afflictions. If so, please, Iyov, bless Him once more - and what will Hashem give you in return? He will take you away completely. This was mockery: after the first blows you said thank you and got hit with an even harder slap; well, say thank you now as well, and now He will take your life entirely. For the more you thank Him, seemingly, the more He strikes you. Why don't you bless? Bless Him, and through this Hashem will finish you off entirely.
It is not easy living with such a wife. And if Hashem took everything from Iyov, why didn't He take his wife as well? This was the only thing left to him. According to the plain meaning, He did not take his wife because she herself was part of the trial - she was the one prodding him to "bless" God. And there is another explanation, offered humorously: since Hashem ultimately restored everything to Iyov twofold, had He taken his wife He would have had to give him twice as many wives afterwards, and He did not want him to suffer doubly - so it was better to leave him with the same wife.
And in a humorous vein, they tell of a man who was speeding and a policeman pulled him over. His wife, sitting beside him, begins shouting: "Yes, give him a ticket! He deserves it! I've been screaming at him for half an hour to take his foot off the gas, to drive slowly, let him pay, let him learn his lesson!" The policeman said to him: "Drive on, drive on, sir. Hashem has already punished you."
וַיֹּאמֶר אֵלֶיהָ: כְּדַבֵּר אַחַת הַנְּבָלוֹת תְּדַבֵּרִי, גַּם אֶת־הַטּוֹב נְקַבֵּל מֵאֵת הָאֱלֹהִים וְאֶת־הָרָע לֹא נְקַבֵּל? בְּכָל־זֹאת לֹא־חָטָא אִיּוֹב בִּשְׂפָתָיו. - But he said to her: "You speak as one of the base women speaks. Shall we accept also the good from God, and shall we not accept the evil?" Through all this, Iyov did not sin with his lips.
The difficulty here lies in the word "also" (gam), and this is what the commentators focus upon. Seemingly, he should have said: "Shall we accept the good and not accept the evil?" - when things are good for me, thank you very much, and when things are bad for me, suddenly I have complaints against Hashem? And this is what Rashi explains: "Is it not enough that He created us?" What is the meaning of "also"? The very fact that Hashem created me is the greatest good; "shall we accept also the good" - beyond creation itself, He gave me even more good, and shall we then not accept the bad? Just as you accepted the good, accept the bad as well.
And the Midrash states: Iyov prophesied without knowing what he prophesied. He prophesied about the future. For according to the simple meaning, "shall we accept the good" would refer to the good we enjoyed until today; if so, he should have said: "We have accepted also the good, and shall we not accept the evil?" Why, then, is it phrased in the future tense, "shall we accept" (nekabbel)? Because he prophesied that the Holy One, blessed be He, would in the future restore all the good to him - we will yet receive good in the future. That is why it says, "shall we accept also the good," and not "we have accepted the good."
The Malbim explains that on the surface, Iyov's answer appears to be that of a righteous man, the words of a God-fearing person accepting the divine judgment: after all, this is precisely what Hashem wants. But the Malbim says: if you examine his words closely, you discover that already here, his heart began turning toward heresy and disbelief. And from where do we see this? From the word "also" (gam).
The Malbim explains that in those times, there were many who believed that the world is inherently bad - that what man experiences in reality is primarily suffering and evil. The Rambam in Moreh Nevuchim cites in the name of the sage Al-Razi, an Arab scholar, who argued that evil in reality exceeds the good. Likewise, the Malbim notes, the ancient poets sat and wrote poems about the evil in the world and about suffering; the entire genre of Arabic poetry, poems of gloom and sorrow, deals with the troubles of man. According to this worldview, the Holy One, blessed be He, brings primarily evil upon man in this world, and only additionally does He bring him good as well. And what is that? That is heresy, as though Hashem created man for his harm, Heaven forbid. And this, says the Malbim, was Iyov's viewpoint: that Hashem indeed gives man more evil than good. (In the next chapter, the Malbim will mention this point again and elaborate upon it further.)
And how do we know this? The Malbim says: consider, when we say "also" - is the additional item the primary element or the secondary one? It is always the secondary. One says: "The prime minister traveled to China, and also his personal secretary"; one does not say: "His personal secretary traveled to China, and also the prime minister" - that sounds ridiculous. The word "also" always comes to denote that which is secondary.
The Malbim offers a parable: A person who drinks a lot of wine or eats a lot of honey cannot complain afterward that the wine made him drunk or that the honey upset his stomach. On the contrary, wine and honey are harmful - and you also derive pleasure from them. The pleasure in wine is the minor aspect of it, while the primary aspect is intoxication and harm. If so, how can you expect to have the minor element - the benefit - while refusing to accept the major element, which is the harm?
This is Iyov's argument to his wife: Good, if I refer to it with the word "also," is the minor and secondary element. "Shall we accept also the good from God" - the secondary element we accept; so the bad, which is the primary element, which is mainly what Hashem brings upon man - shall we not all the more so accept it? The good in the world is merely secondary, and if you accepted that, do you really think you can have the good without the bad? The bad is the primary reality.
These are very harsh words: as if Hashem created man for his own detriment, and as if most of what happens to man in this world is bad. Here, a trace of questioning the Creator of the world and of heresy already begins to surface - the notion that man was created not for his benefit, but for his misfortune. And this, says the Malbim, is the foundation of all the arguments Iyov will later make in his debates with his friends: that man was created for suffering, that most of what he experiences here is bad, and if so, why were we created, why did Hashem form us, and is Hashem seeking our harm, having created beings merely to torment them? This contention underlies all the claims that follow, and we will see how Iyov articulates it even more explicitly later on.
And regarding what is said, "In all this, Iyov did not sin with his lips" - Chazal say: With his lips he did not sin, but in his heart he sinned. And the Ibn Ezra says: He did not sin with his lips, but in the future he would sin. That is, at this stage he remains silent. But soon Iyov will open his mouth, and when he does, he will utter improper words against Hashem's providence: he will demand that the Holy One, blessed be He, enter into judgment with him, demand an explanation for why He afflicts him through no fault of his own when he does not deserve it, suggest that Hashem does not exercise providence, and voice other notions bordering on heresy. But at this stage, Iyov did not sin with his lips.
To explain why Iyov suffered and all the factors behind it, a special lesson will be dedicated at the end of the book to "Iyov and His Reincarnations," where we will understand everything he endured and see that he received it all with absolute justice. Yet even without delving into the esoteric teachings of kabbalah and gilgulim (reincarnation), right at the beginning of the book we see that Hashem wanted to test His servant Iyov. The trial with which Hashem tests a person is meant to increase his reward. When a person withstands a trial, his reward is immense and beyond measure, impossible to fathom or describe.
To what can this be compared? A person wins a prize of fifty thousand shekels, and they tell him: We will give you a riddle, put you to a test, and you will have the chance to turn those fifty thousand into fifty million. Who would be foolish enough to refuse? What are fifty thousand compared to fifty million? Similarly, Iyov was given a trial that could elevate him to extraordinary heights; on the other hand, he could also lose what he had. That is why the Holy One, blessed be He, tested him - according to the simple meaning of the text, while deeper insights will be examined at the end of the book.
And how long did Iyov's afflictions last? The Yalkut Shimoni states: The plagues of Iyov lasted twelve months. This is derived from the verse, "So I have been made to possess months of vanity, and wearisome nights" - meaning that Iyov suffered for a full year.
וַיִּשְׁמְעוּ שְׁלֹשֶׁת רֵעֵי אִיּוֹב אֵת כָּל־הָרָעָה הַזֹּאת הַבָּאָה עָלָיו, וַיָּבֹאוּ אִישׁ מִמְּקֹמוֹ, אֱלִיפַז הַתֵּימָנִי וּבִלְדַּד הַשּׁוּחִי וְצוֹפַר הַנַּעֲמָתִי, וַיִּוָּעֲדוּ יַחְדָּו לָבוֹא לָנוּד־לוֹ וּלְנַחֲמוֹ. - Now when Iyov's three friends heard of all this evil that had come upon him, they came each from his own place: Elifaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuchite, and Tzofar the Naamathite; and they met together to come to grieve with him and to comfort him.
Iyov had three friends - or more accurately, four, as Elihu son of Barachel the Buzite will arrive toward the end of the book. But for now, three arrive: Elifaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuchite, and Tzofar the Naamathite. All of them were named after their place of origin or their family. Elifaz the Temanite - some say this refers to Elifaz the son of Esav, who fathered Teman, and was therefore called "the Temanite." Bildad the Shuchite was a descendant of Keturah, as it is written, "and Yishbak and Shuach." Tzofar the Naamathite was of the descendants of Na'amah, though it is unclear which Na'amah is referred to here; there is no clear source connecting the Naamathite to Na'amah the wife of Noach, although some might suggest that explanation. The Ibn Ezra writes: "The Naamathite - we do not know whether his lineage traces to a land or to a family," that is, the family of Na'amah or the region of Na'amah, much like someone referred to by the name of his city. While there are differing opinions as to when Iyov lived, we take it as straightforward that he lived around the era of Avraham and Pharaoh, or approximately Yitzchak and Pharaoh.
Each of them heard about Iyov's distress, "and each man came from his place" - each set out on his own, and when they arrived in the land of Utz, "they made an appointment together": they met one another and entered Iyov's presence together. But the Gemara in Bava Batra explains differently: What is the meaning of "they made an appointment together"? Rav Yehudah said in the name of Rav: This teaches that they all entered through a single gate - through the exact same entrance. And it was taught: between each one of them was a distance of three hundred parsa'ot.
The Gemara asks: From where did they know? How could they have known from such vast distances? After all, in those days people did not have cell phones. Some say: each of them had a crown, and engraved upon each crown were three visages, with each friend's name carved upon his visage. Whenever afflictions befell one of them, his friend would look at his crown, see that Iyov's features had altered and darkened, and understand that Iyov was suffering - and would set out to visit him. In this case, given what Iyov had just endured, they surely saw signs of grave disaster. And others say: they had special trees. Each had planted a tree corresponding to his friend, and whenever the trees began to wither and show signs of distress, they would look at Iyov's tree and realize that Iyov was in agony.
Rava said: This is what people say in the popular proverb - "Either friends like the friends of Iyov, or death." Rashi explains: If a person does not have devoted companions like Iyov's friends, it is better for him to die. That is to say, if one cannot have companions of such loyalty - either friends like those of Iyov, no less than that, or death.
וַיִּשְׂאוּ אֶת־עֵינֵיהֶם מֵרָחוֹק וְלֹא הִכִּירֻהוּ, וַיִּשְׂאוּ קוֹלָם וַיִּבְכּוּ, וַיִּקְרְעוּ אִישׁ מְעִלוֹ וַיִּזְרְקוּ עָפָר עַל־רָאשֵׁיהֶם הַשָּׁמָיְמָה. - And they lifted up their eyes from afar and did not recognize him, and they raised their voices and wept; and each man tore his robe, and they threw dust over their heads toward heaven.
"And they lifted up their eyes from afar" - they looked even before drawing close to him, "and did not recognize him." The realization is staggering: his countenance had been so altered by his immense suffering that they looked and thought - this cannot be Iyov; we do not know this man. "And they raised their voices and wept" - out of profound sorrow at seeing their beloved friend suffering so terribly. "And each man tore his robe, and they threw dust over their heads toward heaven" - it was their custom to cast dust upward above their heads, toward the heavens, as an expression of anguish, demonstrating the magnitude of their grief.
וַיֵּשְׁבוּ אִתּוֹ לָאָרֶץ שִׁבְעַת יָמִים וְשִׁבְעַת לֵילוֹת, וְאֵין־דֹּבֵר אֵלָיו דָּבָר, כִּי רָאוּ כִּי־גָדַל הַכְּאֵב מְאֹד. - And they sat with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, and none spoke a word to him, for they saw that the pain was very great.
They sat upon the ground for seven days and seven nights as a sign of mourning, sitting and grieving along with him. The Gemara teaches: Agra devei tamya shetikuta - the reward of visiting a house of mourning is silence. In many cases, it is far better for a person who comes to a house of mourning to remain silent; through silence, one genuinely participates in the grief. The halachah establishes that only when the mourner opens the conversation is the comforter permitted to speak. One should not arrive acting as though a condolence call is an occasion to exchange news: "How are things? What's going on? What happened to him?" Who asked you to multiply words?
An article once addressed this issue, suggesting that anyone preparing to sit shivah - may Hashem protect us from such suffering - should prepare a printed sheet with all the details: when the person passed away, whether it was his first heart attack, exactly what happened when the paramedics arrived - because otherwise the mourner ends up answering the exact same questions a thousand times over. Every visitor who walks in opens an interrogation, as though conducting a formal police investigation: how did it happen, what were the circumstances, how many children survived, and are all of them mentioned in the will? In short, a situation arises where people come not to share in grief, but to interrogate. Iyov's companions come and teach us: when you visit a mourner, sit with him upon the ground and be silent with him. The silence itself - grieving with him and bearing witness to his pain - is the greatest expression of condolences.
"For they saw that the pain was very great" - when a person's pain is not overwhelming, one can still find words to comfort him; but when the pain is exceedingly great, words fail. What could one possibly say to offer comfort? May Hashem have mercy and protect us - if a person had two sons and lost one, he can be comforted by the fact that one son remains; if his house remains, he can be comforted that he still has a home, and so forth. But here, with what could they comfort him? Nothing was left to him, and there was nothing with which to console him. This is the meaning of "for they saw that the pain was very great" - nothing remained with which to comfort him, and in such a situation, the only thing to do is to be silent.
In this chapter, Iyov suffers the second blow, inflicted upon his own body: malignant boils from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head, dry boils on top and moist underneath, two contradictory afflictions for which there is no single cure. His wife mocks him - "Bless God and die" - and Iyov, who this time remains silent and does not bless, answers her: "Shall we also accept the good..." According to the peshat and the words of Rashi, this is the response of a tzaddik who justifies the Divine judgment, and according to the Midrash, he prophesied through this that the Holy One, blessed be He, would in the future restore all the good to him. The Malbim, however, discerns meaning in the word "also" (gam) - that in Iyov's eyes, the good is secondary and the evil is primary - and this is the root of the heresy that will later erupt across all his arguments. Even so, at this stage, "Iyov did not sin with his lips," but only in his heart. His three friends then come from afar, fail to recognize him, and sit with him on the ground for seven days and seven nights in silence - the reward of visiting a house of mourning is silence, for when pain grows so immense, there are no words to comfort.