Introduction: Iyov's Response to Eliphaz
In the chapter before us, Iyov begins his reply to Eliphaz the Temanite. Eliphaz leveled two primary arguments against him: first, that the very fact that Iyov protests his suffering proves that he did not serve Hashem out of love and that his heart was not whole; and second, that suffering is for his own good, a temporary purging of sins, at the end of which the righteous man remains alive and enduring, saved from eternal retribution. Iyov responds to both arguments together, and at the conclusion of his words, he turns to his deep disappointment with his friends.
Weighing Anger Against Suffering
וַיַּעַן אִיּוֹב וַיֹּאמַר׃ לוּ שָׁקוֹל יִשָּׁקֵל כַּעְשִׂי וְהַוָּתִי בְּמֹאזְנַיִם יִשְׂאוּ־יָחַד׃ - And Iyov answered and said: If only my anger were thoroughly weighed, and my calamity placed on the scales together!
Regarding Eliphaz's claim that his heart was not whole with Hashem, evidenced by his outcry against his afflictions, Iyov responds: If only they would place on the scales my anger, along with all my complaints and grievances against Heaven, on one pan, and the ruin, calamity, and suffering inflicted upon me on the other pan, and weigh them together! His meaning is: Whatever I complained about is infinitesimal compared to the crushing weight of the afflictions that befell me. It is inconceivable that for such a minor misdeed, such a terrible punishment should be meted out.
On this expression, the Gemara in Masechet Bava Batra (16a) states: Rav said, dust into the mouth of Iyov! Is there comradeship toward Heaven? Are you an equal partner with the Creator of the world, that you can say, "Come, let us weigh in the scales who is right, I or the Holy One, blessed be He, and let us go to court together to see if my suffering equals what I spoke"? Is Hashem your friend or companion, that He should enter into litigation with you?
The Weight of Suffering - And the Complaint That Followed Only Afterward
כִּי־עַתָּה מֵחוֹל יַמִּים יִכְבָּד עַל־כֵּן דְּבָרַי לָעוּ׃ - For now it would be heavier than the sand of the seas; therefore my words were choked.
Iyov continues: If they were to weigh my calamity and ruin against my complaint, the scale of suffering would be heavier than the sand of the seas. What is more, my complaint would be deemed as nothing, since it stems from the suffering itself. Had I spoken out against the Creator of the world unprovoked, and only then had suffering been placed on the other scale, there might be room to compare one against the other. But the order was reversed: first came the suffering, and only afterward did I open my mouth. Beyond the fact that my words are like mere grams against tons of suffering, "my words were choked" - swallowed and stifled out of immense agony, and it is not fair to punish for them.
The Arrows of Shaddai - An Incurable Illness
כִּי חִצֵּי שַׁדַּי עִמָּדִי אֲשֶׁר חֲמָתָם שֹׁתָה רוּחִי בִּעוּתֵי אֱלוֹהַּ יַעַרְכוּנִי׃ - For the arrows of Shaddai are within me, whose venom my spirit drinks in; the terrors of God array themselves against me.
Against Eliphaz's assertion that the suffering is temporary and that in the end the righteous man will remain alive - that the righteous man does not perish, but merely suffers - Iyov replies: On the contrary, in my case you see that the righteous man perishes, not just suffers. For a sick person recovers only under one of two conditions: either the illness itself is not life-threatening, or the patient's body is strong and robust. An elderly person may, Heaven forbid, die from a simple flu. The same is true of AIDS patients, whose immune systems are decimated, as well as organ transplant recipients - whose immune systems are suppressed so that the body does not reject the transplant, since it would otherwise send antibodies against the foreign organ and attack it like an invader; consequently, any minor illness poses a grave danger to them. Thus, in order to heal, the illness must not be too severe, and the vital strength of the body must be robust enough to overcome it.
Job says: In my case, both conditions are missing. Regarding the severity of the illness itself - "For the arrows of the Almighty are within me": the arrows that the Holy One, blessed be He, shot into me are lodged deep inside me, in my heart and in my innards; this is a fatal illness. And not only that, but "whose poison my spirit drinks up" - chamah means venom, like the venom of a serpent. This is not just an ordinary arrow stuck in one's innards, but an arrow coated in venom, which drains and saps all my strength and all my spirit. "The terrors of God array themselves against me" - and it is not enough that the arrows are within me, but the Holy One, blessed be He, arrays a new battle line against me, shooting new arrows at me continuously. Had this been a blow struck in the past whose aftereffects I was merely enduring, one might still hope for recovery; but when they continue to shoot at me - it is like one who has been dealt a mortal blow, and they continue to ensure his death. From such a condition, one does not rise.
The Wild Donkey and the Ox - An Allegory for a Body That Can Bear No More
הֲיִנְהַק־פֶּרֶא עֲלֵי־דֶשֶׁא אִם יִגְעֶה־שּׁוֹר עַל־בְּלִילוֹ׃ הֲיֵאָכֵל תָּפֵל מִבְּלִי־מֶלַח אִם־יֶשׁ־טַעַם בְּרִיר חַלָּמוּת׃ - Does the wild donkey bray over grass, or does the ox low over its fodder? Can that which is unsavory be eaten without salt, or is there any taste in the juice of the mallow?
Now Job comes to argue the second side: even if the illness were not so terrible, my body is already so frail that there is no chance of healing even from a minor sickness. The Malbim explains these two verses through the literary structure of parallel clauses: there are two verses, each divided into two parts, and the reading flows so that the first half of the first verse connects directly to the first half of the second verse, and the second half of the first verse connects to the second half of the second verse. According to this, it should be read: "Does a wild donkey bray over grass - can that which is unsavory be eaten without salt?" "Or does an ox low over its fodder - is there any taste in the juice of the mallow?"
The wild donkey is an animal found in open fields and wildernesses, and its diet is coarse: grass, weeds, and thistles. Could one imagine that it would bray and complain: How can I eat this grass, it is flavorless and lacks salt? And would the ox, whose feed is mixed from simple, coarse mash, low and grumble: What is this mallow you brought me, does its slimy moisture have any taste? We have never heard an ox say: I am sick of grass, didn't they make anything else for lunch today? Whatever is there - it eats, without complaints, and it does not loathe its food.
מֵאֲנָה לִנְגּוֹעַ נַפְשִׁי הֵמָּה כִּדְוֵי לַחְמִי׃ - My soul refuses to touch them; they are like the sickness of my bread.
And the allegory applies to me. Animals do not loathe even the coarsest food, whereas I - even when fine and nourishing food is placed before me - my soul refuses even to touch it, so repulsive has it become to me. "They are like the sickness of my bread" - devai relates to bodily discharges; even bread has become in my eyes like the most loathsome thing, like foul impurities that one cannot bear to approach or touch. Things have reached such a point that when I want to express how repulsive something is, I say: It is as repulsive to me as bread. A person to whom good, nourishing food is as abhorrent as the most putrid matter is critically ill. Thus, two factors are at work here: my wound is fatal, poisoned arrows are lodged within me and Hashem continues to shoot at me, and from such an affliction there is no recovery; furthermore, even from a milder illness I could not recover, for my body is already a broken vessel and I cannot ingest a thing. From what, then, shall I heal? What are you talking about, Eliphaz, when you say that the suffering is only temporary and will be followed by blessing, success, and life? From such a state one does not live on; from such a state one does not survive.
Job's Request - Not Healing, but an End
מִי־יִתֵּן תָּבוֹא שֶׁאֱלָתִי וְתִקְוָתִי יִתֵּן אֱלוֹהַּ׃ וְיֹאֵל אֱלוֹהַּ וִידַכְּאֵנִי יַתֵּר יָדוֹ וִיבַצְּעֵנִי׃ - Oh, that my request might come to pass, and that God would grant my hope! That God would consent to crush me, that He would release His hand and cut me off!
You tell me, Eliphaz, that if I accept the suffering with love, Hashem will heal me and give me life, and that I am not perishing but merely undergoing chastisement. Job replies: My hope is not for healing, and my hope is not for life. What is my request? "That God would consent to crush me" - that the Holy One, blessed be He, would relent and crush me entirely. For what is being done to me right now is that with one hand they crush me, and with the other they provide oxygen so that I do not die. And this is exactly what Hashem told the Satan, making the Satan's task the hardest of all, as when one is told: Break the barrel, but preserve its wine. On the one hand, severe crushing; on the other hand, guarding me at every moment so that I do not die and that I breathe one more gasp of air. "That He would release His hand" - let Him open His hand that holds me back, so that my soul may depart; "and cut me off" - let Him finally bring an end to the ordeal of my suffering and my life.
What Sort of Comfort Are You Offering?
וּתְהִי־עוֹד נֶחָמָתִי וַאֲסַלְּדָה בְחִילָה לֹא יַחְמוֹל כִּי־לֹא כִחַדְתִּי אִמְרֵי קָדוֹשׁ׃ - And this would still be my comfort, and I would exult in pain though He spare not, for I have not denied the words of the Holy One.
Iyov says to him: Is this comfort? Your entire comfort is that if I accept the suffering with love, Hashem will not put me to death immediately, but rather will give me more and more anguish! In other words: it is worthwhile for you not to die quickly; it is worthwhile for you to continue suffering. "And I would exult in pain, though He does not spare" - selidah is related to "yad soledet bo" (a hand scalded by heat); you want me to shrink back and fear as from a burn, refraining from crying out against Hashem out of fear that He will show no compassion and put me to death. But I hold the opposite: if He has compassion on me, He will put me to death, for that is true compassion in my eyes, since that is my wish. "For I have not denied the words of the Holy One" - you present your words in the name of prophecy, as you claimed that a matter was revealed to you from the mouth of the Holy One and that an angel appeared to you. I do not deny your words; rather, I ask: will I truly recover and be healed from my illness to enjoy a good life once more by virtue of this prophecy?
What Is My Strength and What Is My End
מַה־כֹּחִי כִי־אֲיַחֵל וּמַה־קִּצִּי כִּי־אַאֲרִיךְ נַפְשִׁי׃ - What is my strength that I should hope, and what is my end that I should prolong my life?
Here Iyov returns to address the two factors he mentioned: a severe illness from which there is no recovery, and a body whose foundations have collapsed. "What is my strength that I should hope" - do you really think the strength of my body can overcome this disease? My strength is so depleted that I could not even overcome a minor ailment, for my body is crushed and broken; how then could I overcome an illness like this? "And what is my end that I should prolong my life" - physical strength prolongs life only in someone who has not succumbed to an extreme illness; but one who has been struck by a truly devastating disease, even if his body was previously healthy and his immune system intact with everything in order, the sheer severity of the disease overpowers the foundations of his body. Can I possibly go on living any longer when the illness is so crushing?
אִם־כֹּחַ אֲבָנִים כֹּחִי אִם־בְּשָׂרִי נָחוּשׁ׃ - Is my strength the strength of stones, or is my flesh bronze?
Here he explains both dimensions. Corresponding to "What is my strength that I should hope": Is my strength the strength of stones? My body is not made of stone, and I have no basis to hope for recovery in such a shattered body. And corresponding to "And what is my end that I should prolong my life": "Is my flesh bronze?" - is my flesh made of copper, impervious to decay? The affliction is so severe that even a powerful body would buckle under it, let alone my body, which has no strength at all.
Why Did the Prophecy Come to You and Not to Me?
הַאִם אֵין עֶזְרָתִי בִי וְתֻשִׁיָּה נִדְּחָה מִמֶּנִּי׃ - Is my help not within me, and is wisdom driven far from me?
You, Eliphaz, claim that you received a prophetic answer regarding my suffering, that it is merely temporary and that I will yet return to good fortune, health, and long life. If so, why did the Divine speech come to you and not to me? "Is my help not within me" - am I not worthy that my help should come from the Holy Sanctuary, that Hashem Himself should reveal Himself to me and quiet my turmoil? "And is wisdom driven far from me" - why were that wisdom and that prophecy driven away and distanced from me? If the Creator of the world had a message to convey, why did He not convey it to me directly, and why did He need to transmit it through you?
לַמָּס מֵרֵעֵהוּ חָסֶד וְיִרְאַת שַׁדַּי יַעֲזוֹב׃ - To him who withholds kindness from his fellow, he forsakes the fear of the Almighty.
If at first Iyov argued that he himself was worthy of prophecy, he now continues and says: And as for you, you are not a worthy person, so how was prophecy fit to come to you? For you reviled me and spoke very harsh words against me: "Is not your fear your folly?", claiming that I am being punished for my sins and that I spoke improperly. According to Rashi, the explanation is: "Lamas" is an expression of withholding - one who withholds kindness from his fellow and distances kindness from him, "and forsakes the fear of Shaddai" - by doing so he shows that he lacks fear of God. According to the Malbim: "Lamas" does not mean withholding, but rather melting down or crushing, with the letter lamed serving as a prefix; and "chesed" here is like "chasuda" in Aramaic, which is the translation of disgrace. That is to say: one who melts down his fellow and crushes him with humiliation and disgrace, breaking his spirit, lacks the fear of Shaddai. How could prophecy be fitting to come to such a person? After all, you come and claim that I deserve this suffering, feeling completely comfortable stinging me in my dire state and uttering such harsh words against me. How could it be that prophecy came to you, who act so dishonorably, while to me, who am righteous, it did not come?
The Transition: His Disappointment in the Friends
From this point onward, Iyov turns to articulate his bitter disappointment with his companions and friends. Instead of coming to strengthen him and encourage his spirit in the terrible crisis in which he finds himself, not only do they fail to do so, but they actively search for faults and flaws in him, heaping false accusations upon him that have no basis. On this point, Iyov was right, for at the end of the book we see that the Holy One, Blessed be He, tells his companions that they were not right and that they must seek his forgiveness, for having falsely accused him of committing secret sins and of being punished for minor transgressions in his hand, and all kinds of calculations like that which were untrue. Here Iyov laments his grief: How could such loving friends and companions that I had turn into enemies, seeking out flaws in me, instead of speaking kindly to my heart with words that would soothe my pain?
In summary: In this chapter, Iyov responds to Eliphaz on his two claims. Against the claim that his complaint proves his heart is not whole - he asks to weigh his few words on the scales against the heaviness of his afflictions, and to recall that the complaint came only after the suffering and arose from within it; regarding this, Rav said, "Dust in the mouth of Iyov! Is he a peer toward Heaven?" And against the claim that the afflictions are temporary and that he will ultimately return to health - he shows that the two conditions for recovery are absent in his case: as for the illness itself, poisoned arrows are lodged in him and a new battle is arrayed against him each day, and his body is already so broken that even good food is as repulsive to him as the most abominable thing. Therefore, his hope is not for healing, but that Hashem would consent to crush him and bring an end to his suffering. Finally, he wonders why prophecy came specifically to Eliphaz - who melts away his friend with disgrace and abandons the fear of Shaddai - and not to him; and from here he proceeds to his lament over his friends who have turned into enemies.