Chapter 16 opens the ninth response, Iyov's reply to Elifaz. Elifaz had addressed the success of the wicked, arguing that their prosperity is neither genuine nor lasting, but merely temporary and fleeting, and in fact not success at all, since the wicked person lives in fear all his days. Iyov does not address this claim at present, nor does he reply to the approach of Bildad the Shuchite. He waits until all three disputants have voiced their views, and only then will he present his own comprehensive position refuting all of them - which will occur in Chapter 21.
Iyov also refrains from responding to Elifaz's fundamental explanation for the suffering of the righteous, which Elifaz claimed to have received in a prophetic vision. Iyov had already countered this previously: if there were a prophecy here, why was it not given to me? Why did it come to you of all people, if Hashem wished to give me an explanation for the matter? What Iyov does express is exasperation: why do you keep repeating claims you have made before? In plain terms - when a person has nothing new to say, he simply begins repeating himself. Nor does he reply now to the issue of free will, where Elifaz maintained that man possesses free choice and Iyov had disagreed, since this subject was already thoroughly dissected and analyzed in earlier chapters.
Iyov comes to dispute two new points. First: whereas previously you merely harbored suspicions against me, this time you openly cast direct blame, turning me into a completely wicked person. For you claimed that the very extremity of my language and my elevated rhetoric prove that these grievances were harbored in my heart all along, that I have long nurtured fault-finding against the Creator, blessed be He, and that I am therefore utterly wicked and deserve everything that has befallen me. Over this, Iyov will cry out and protest bitterly.
The second point: Elifaz sought to reinforce his view that the primary reward is the survival of the soul after death. Iyov comes to reject this. First, the survival of the soul is a hidden concept that most people cannot grasp. What does a person actually observe? That here is a tzaddik who is suffering. What will become of his soul in the future - that he cannot see, and how in return he will receive reward in a transcendent spiritual realm is something beyond his reach in this physical reality. And who will guarantee that a person continues to live and exist after his death? These matters are concealed from human eyes, and human intellect struggles to accept them. People relate to tangible, perceptible life, and seeing a tzaddik suffer leads them to the conclusion that justice is, Heaven forbid, perverted and unfair. Therefore, Iyov argues that the reality where the Holy One, blessed be He, afflicts the righteous is, as it were, unbefitting, causing people to harbor doubts and challenge Divine Providence and its rectitude. It would be appropriate to grant the righteous his righteousness here and the wicked his wickedness here, rather than relegating it to a reality that neither the righteous nor the wicked can see.
וַיַּעַן אִיּוֹב וַיֹּאמַר: שָׁמַעְתִּי כְאֵלֶּה רַבּוֹת, מְנַחֲמֵי עָמָל כֻּלְּכֶם. - And Iyov replied and said: I have heard many such things; miserable comforters are you all.
What you have repeated once again, "Can mortal man be more righteous than God?" - that given the exacting standard demanded of man, there is no way he can ever attain true righteousness and claim to have fulfilled everything expected of him - and likewise what you said about free will, all of this has already been said. "I have heard many such things" - what have you added for me in what you just spoke? "Miserable comforters are you all" - you are like a person incapable of consoling, who has nothing satisfying to say, and so wears out the listener with an abundance of idle talk, subjecting him to weariness and distress. Do you imagine that this will bring the listener comfort and put his mind at ease?
הֲקֵץ לְדִבְרֵי רוּחַ, אוֹ מַה יַּמְרִיצְךָ כִּי תַעֲנֶה. - Is there an end to windy words? Or what provokes you that you answer?
When a person wishes to bring proof and conclude a debate with decisive evidence, his words have an end. The debate is settled; there is a bottom line: decisive proof, clear evidence, an argument that leaves no room for further questioning and doubt. But words of wind, mere chatter, where a person says "I think" or "it seems to me," claims drawn from gut feelings rather than grounded logic - to such things there is no end, for no clear proof can ever be brought to substantiate them. If you have conclusive proof, the debate is over. When there is no conclusive proof, a person confounds the issue, multiplying words and flowery rhetoric so that no one notices he has said nothing at all. This is the tactic of many politicians: a person speaks for half an hour, and if you ask at the end what he said, you have no idea. He speaks endlessly about our duty, our state as a nation, and other empty talk.
And if you say that your words are not words of wind but reasoned intellect, I ask: "What provokes you that you answer" - what strengthens and substantiates your reply? What sign or proof do you bring? After all, all you have brought is "so I saw in a vision." Do you have any proof of this? Without a grounded argument, it is all words of wind.
גַּם אָנֹכִי כָּכֶם אֲדַבֵּרָה, לוּ יֵשׁ נַפְשְׁכֶם תַּחַת נַפְשִׁי, אַחְבִּירָה עֲלֵיכֶם בְּמִלִּים וְאָנִיעָה עֲלֵיכֶם בְּמוֹ רֹאשִׁי. - I too could speak like you, if your soul were in my soul's place; I could join words together against you, and shake my head at you.
If you were in my place, if your soul were in my soul's place - would I speak to you the way you speak to me? Would I search for flaws in you, condemn you, and level harsh accusations against you that contain no truth, only torment? This is an argument Iyov repeats many times: I expected my friends to strengthen me in my distress, not to search for flaws in me and prove that I am wicked and that everything I am suffering is completely just and right. On the contrary, if such trouble had befallen you, I attest about myself that I would have joined with you in words, supported your claims and justified you, and "I would shake my head at you" - I would grieve along with you over the tragedy that befell you without just cause or proper judgment.
אֲאַמִּצְכֶם בְּמוֹ פִי, וְנִיד שְׂפָתַי יַחְשֹׂךְ. - I would strengthen you with my mouth, and the movement of my lips would relieve your grief.
When a person suffers for no reason and sees that someone comes to strengthen and encourage him, it fortifies him and gives him strength. This is what he meant by "I would strengthen you with my mouth" - with words of encouragement I would instill power, courage, and fortitude in you, showing that justice is on your side. "And the movement of my lips would relieve" - even if my lips grew weary from speaking so much and became exhausted, I would still toil and exert myself to strengthen and encourage you.
אִם אֲדַבְּרָה לֹא יֵחָשֵׂךְ כְּאֵבִי, וְאַחְדְּלָה מַה מִּנִּי יַהֲלֹךְ. - If I speak, my pain is not assuaged, and if I refrain, what leaves me?
This is an argument that Iyov made toward God as well: I have nothing to lose. When someone endures minor suffering and wants to speak out, people tell him: Be careful that it does not get worse. When his suffering is severe and he wants to complain, they tell him: Be careful that He does not take your life. But Iyov has already said, "My death is better to me than my life," and complained that Hashem does not let him stop the bus and get off - I do not want this life, yet Hashem, as it were, forcibly keeps me alive. If so, what do I have to lose? Suffering? I have already received suffering of the highest possible degree. Death? For me, the grave is a refuge, a place of escape from all this misery. What reason, then, do I have to remain silent? At least let me speak my mind, and through this I will find some relief. "If I speak, my pain is not assuaged" - even if I speak, I gain nothing; "and if I refrain, what leaves me?" - and if I refrain from speaking, what do I lose or gain by my silence? There is no difference between silence and speech, and if so, I might as well speak.
אַךְ עַתָּה הֶלְאָנִי, הֲשִׁמּוֹתָ כָּל עֲדָתִי. - But now He has exhausted me; You have devastated all my company.
Now I am forced to speak, because the pain "has exhausted me" - it has worn me down and I am weary of it, until I feel compelled to speak. "You have devastated all my company" - You did not strike only me, but everyone around me: my children and my household have all died. "Hashimota" is an expression of desolation (shemamah).
וַתִּקְמְטֵנִי לְעֵד הָיָה, וַיָּקָם בִּי כַחֲשִׁי בְּפָנַי יַעֲנֶה. - And You have shriveled me, it has become a witness; and my leanness rises up against me, testifying to my face.
"And You have shriveled me" (va-tikmeteni) is an expression of furrowing and scarring - You have withered me with suffering, and this very affliction has become a witness against me. To explain this, the Malbim offers an analogy based on the history of ancient nations. It is difficult for us to fathom because it defies reason, but such was the way in primitive times: when they sought to extract a confession from someone suspected of murder or theft and he denied it, they would torture him until he confessed. Sometimes the poor soul would die before having a chance to confess. They had an ostensible "sign": they would observe the face of the sufferer, and if they saw that the agony did not affect him or move him, it was a sign that he was telling the truth; but if they saw him cry out and show that it bothered him, it was taken as a sign that he was a liar and knew within himself that he was guilty. Thus, the beatings themselves and the resulting screams served as the witness to his guilt. What a diseased mind and distorted perception!
This is what Iyov is saying about himself: There was a suspicion against me, and afflictions were brought down upon me from Heaven. As a result, I began to cry out: Master of the Universe, there is no justice here, I do not deserve this! And then people come along and say: Look, you are speaking out, you are shouting, which proves you are guilty! This is his answer to Elifaz: Did I say these things before the afflictions came, or after them? I spoke after them! If so, why did You afflict me in the first place? And why am I speaking now? Out of pain, out of an outcry that I do not deserve this! Yet you say: Look, you are speaking against Hashem, you deserve suffering! Where is the justice? Where is the fairness? This is the meaning of "You have shriveled me up, it has become a witness, and it rises up against me" - what has become a witness against me? My own outcry, which came as a result of the suffering itself! "My leanness testifies against me to my face" - you say this proves that I am denying the truth and that there is heresy in my heart, since I cry out because of the blows. Can this truly be called proof?
In truth, Elifaz also sensed this difficulty. Therefore, as we learned in the previous lesson, his claim was that because these words roll so fluently off your tongue and you express them in such lofty language, it indicates that these arguments were already formulated in your mind long ago, even before the afflictions. He too understood that one cannot pin guilt on Iyov merely because of what he says now, since now Iyov cries out from pain. He therefore sought to prove from the present about the past - that even back then you harbored heresy and complaints against the Creator of the world.
אַפּוֹ טָרַף וַיִּשְׂטְמֵנִי, חָרַק עָלַי בְּשִׁנָּיו, צָרִי יִלְטֹשׁ עֵינָיו לִי. - His anger tore and hated me; he gnashed upon me with his teeth; my adversary sharpens his eyes upon me.
Here he speaks poetically of that "witness" who comes to testify against him. The Malbim explains: when a witness arises against a person to accuse him, and the accused refutes his words, the witness sometimes boils with rage that his testimony is not accepted, and he may even strike him across the face. This is the meaning of "His anger tore and hated me" - the witness himself, in his fury, strikes me, since by denying my words he seeks to prove my wickedness. "He gnashed upon me with his teeth" - when I deny it, he grows even angrier that I contradict his words. "My adversary sharpens his eyes upon me" - the more I feel the distress and cry out, the more intently he gazes at me, just as they would gaze at the face of one being tortured to see if he feels the pain - and if he feels it, that is taken as a sign that he is guilty. He sharpens his eyes to see if Iyov is in pain, and my pain becomes proof of my wickedness! Could anyone conceive of judging a person this way?
פָּעֲרוּ עָלַי בְּפִיהֶם, בְּחֶרְפָּה הִכּוּ לְחָיָי, יַחַד עָלַי יִתְמַלָּאוּן. - They opened their mouth wide against me; they struck my cheeks reproachfully; they gather together against me in full force.
After the witness comes the crowd. All those standing around open their mouths wide against me as well. For their trials were public, just as they still are in Gaza today: they bring the condemned man to the city square, hang him, flog him, and it becomes the best show in town, with the entire incited mob turning out. The primitiveness and savagery of those nations is unbelievable. And today you see people wearing neckties, appearing cultured - the very same European whose father carried out pogroms against Jews with pitchforks now carries out pogroms with a keyboard, a screen, and a pen: inciting, writing harsh slanders, fabricating accusations and reports out of thin air. It is the exact same thing, only dressed in a tailored suit and tie. It is the same gentile, the same Muslim, who has not changed in the slightest. So too here: when they see that I am suffering, it confirms their suspicion in their eyes, and they strike my cheeks in disgrace, "they gather together against me in full force" - they all assemble together and declare: Look, he is indeed guilty, for he is crying out!
יַסְגִּירֵנִי אֵל אֶל עֲוִיל, וְעַל יְדֵי רְשָׁעִים יִרְטֵנִי. - God delivers me to the unjust, and tosses me into the hands of the wicked.
After describing the witness and the crowd, he turns to describe the judge. "God delivers me" [Eil, with a tzeirei] - the Holy One, Blessed be He, delivers me "to the unjust" [el avil, el with a segol] - into the hands of a powerful force that works injustice. The judge into whose hands I have been delivered is unjust, a perpetrator of wrong. "And tosses me into the hands of the wicked" [yirteni] - even those who were supposed to be my defense advocates, speaking in my favor and pleading well on my behalf, those who were meant to be a healing compress [retiyah, a bandage that heals] - they too are wicked. They assign defense advocates to me, but these defense advocates are in reality prosecutors.
In Iyov's view, the unjust power is not Hashem, but the celestial order, the ma'arechet. As we explained at length in the opening chapters, Iyov did not blame Hashem directly; rather, he claimed that the Holy One, Blessed be He, does not exercise individual Divine Providence (hashgachah pratit), but has instead left the world in the hands of the celestial system - the stars and heavenly bodies through which physical influence descends. These forces do not distinguish between righteous and wicked, and that is why I am suffering. His friends argued back that by saying this, he does not absolve Hashem at all; on the contrary, he depicts Him as an even greater perpetrator of injustice, having created a world only to abandon it into the hands of unjust forces. In any event, for Iyov it was easier to say: I am not saying Hashem is unfair; rather, I am asking why the celestial order is causing me trouble. That is the point: the Holy One, Blessed be He, delivered me into the hands of the celestial forces, and the celestial forces are tormenting me. The one doing me wrong is the judge who commits injustice.
שָׁלֵו הָיִיתִי וַיְפַרְפְּרֵנִי, וְאָחַז בְּעׇרְפִּי וַיְפַצְפְּצֵנִי, וַיְקִימֵנִי לוֹ לְמַטָּרָה. - I was at ease, but He broke me apart; He seized me by the neck and shattered me, and set me up as His target.
Now he describes the actual punishment and suffering. I was at ease, "yet He broke me apart" (vayepharpereni). Have you ever seen what a cat does to a mouse before finishing it off? It bats it around, plays with it: bats it once, the mouse tries to flee, bats it from the other side, first playing with it and only afterward devouring it. So too here: it was not just that afflictions were inflicted upon me, but they let me be and then strike me, let me be and strike, as if playing with me. "And He grabbed me by my neck and shattered me" - when I tried to flee, He chased after me and seized me by the neck; and "shattered me" (vayefatspetseni) is an expression of breaking, like "a hammer that shatters rock." "And He set me up as His target" - until He placed me like a target at an archery range; I am the one standing before the arrows.
יָסֹבּוּ עָלַי רַבָּיו, יְפַלַּח כִּלְיוֹתַי וְלֹא יַחְמֹל, יִשְׁפֹּךְ לָאָרֶץ מְרֵרָתִי. - His archers surround me; He pierces my kidneys and shows no pity; He pours out my gall upon the ground.
"His archers" (rabbav) are His shooters, as in "an archer with a bow" (roveh kashet), one who shoots with a bow. His archers surround me, and His arrows pierce my kidneys without mercy, and He does not relent from me "until He pours out my gall upon the ground" - the gall bladder and the internal organs; until they spill out onto the earth, He shows no pity.
יִפְרְצֵנִי פֶּרֶץ עַל פְּנֵי פָרֶץ, יָרֻץ עָלַי כְּגִבּוֹר. - He breaches me with breach upon breach; He runs upon me like a warrior.
After He had already breached all my limbs and there was no soundness left in me, there came yet another breach upon breach. To use an analogy: if I take a glass and break it, it becomes shards; and if I take those shards and crush them, they turn into fragments. So too, at first He dismantled me completely, and afterward He smashed even what had already been broken. Nor was He satisfied with that, but "He runs upon me like a warrior": in battle, a warrior initially shoots arrows from afar, but when close combat range is reached, he does not wait, for if he waits, the enemy will have time to regroup. Rather, while the foe is still stunned, he charges at him with all his might to strike him down. This is the artillery barrage followed by the infantry assault. After the arrows that pierced my kidneys, He still charged at me like a warrior, as though standing before an opponent who required all His strength to overcome.
שַׂק תָּפַרְתִּי עֲלֵי גִלְדִּי, וְעֹלַלְתִּי בֶעָפָר קַרְנִי. פָּנַי חֳמַרְמְרוּ מִנִּי בֶכִי, וְעַל עַפְעַפַּי צַלְמָוֶת. - I have sewn sackcloth upon my skin, and laid my horn in the dust. My face is reddened from weeping, and on my eyelids rests deep darkness.
After all the blows inflicted upon me cruelly and unjustly, I did nothing. All I did was sew sackcloth onto my skin, debase my horn in the dust, my face reddened from weeping over my misfortune, with deep darkness upon my eyelids.
עַל לֹא חָמָס בְּכַפָּי, וּתְפִלָּתִי זַכָּה. - Though there is no injustice in my hands, and my prayer is pure.
All this came upon me though there was no injustice in my hands - I did nothing wrong, neither before nor in the wake of the suffering; rather, I only wept and lamented my plight. "And my prayer is pure" - a prayer that does not stem from guilt or wicked deeds. Everything done to me was not done according to law and justice. And I also know that I will be vindicated in my prayer, that my prayer will ultimately be accepted, for justice is on my side.
אֶרֶץ אַל תְּכַסִּי דָמִי, וְאַל יְהִי מָקוֹם לְזַעֲקָתִי. - O earth, do not cover my blood, and let there be no resting place for my cry.
Even though on earth I have been declared guilty in my judgment, and the way of the earth is to cover the blood spilled upon it, I plead: do not cover my blood; do not conceal the injustice done to me here. "And let there be no resting place for my cry" - on earth there is no one to accept my words and no one listening to me, so there is no place for my cry down here; my desire is that my cry be heard in Heaven.
גַּם עַתָּה הִנֵּה בַשָּׁמַיִם עֵדִי, וְשָׂהֲדִי בַּמְּרֹמִים. - Even now, behold, my witness is in heaven, and my testifying witness is on high.
Even though here on earth I have been branded wicked - the witnesses are against me, the spectators are against me, the judge is against me, and even the defense advocates are against me - in Heaven there are witnesses who will testify to my innocence. In Heaven they know that I am righteous, and they know that all the witnesses who came to prove my wickedness are false. "Sahadi" means witnesses, and they will testify on high on my behalf that the afflictions down here do not prove my guilt, and that the cries I utter provide no evidence of wickedness.
מְלִיצַי רֵעָי, אֶל אֱלוֹהַּ דָּלְפָה עֵינִי. - My advocates are my inner thoughts; toward God my eye drips tears.
In contrast to the wicked advocates assigned to him here, he says: Who are my true advocates? Not my companions, who only seek further accusations against me, but rather "re'ai" in the sense of ra'ayonai - my inner thoughts and conscience, which truly know that I am righteous and have done no wrong, and they will advocate on my behalf in Heaven. Yet I still lack a judge, for "God has delivered me to an unjust one," having been handed over into the hands of a corrupt judge. Therefore, he pleads: "toward God my eye drips tears" - that Hashem Himself be the Judge, that Hashem judge me rather than the celestial mechanisms. The advocates are my inner thoughts; the Judge is God Himself, and toward Him my eye pours tears from weeping.
וְיוֹכַח לְגֶבֶר עִם אֱלוֹהַּ, וּבֶן אָדָם לְרֵעֵהוּ. - That He would arbitrate for a man with God, as a human being does with his fellow.
My desire is that the Holy One, Blessed be He, clarify and arbitrate the case and the arguments brought against me, just as matters are clarified between one person and another. Just as in a dispute between two people proofs must be brought and they go before an impartial judge, so I ask that the very same evidence and proofs admissible between people also be admissible before the Creator of the world. Then I am certain that I will be acquitted in my judgment.
כִּי שְׁנוֹת מִסְפָּר יֶאֱתָיוּ, וְאֹרַח לֹא אָשׁוּב אֶהֱלֹךְ. - For a numbered span of years will come, and I shall walk a path from which I will not return.
You, Eliphaz, claimed that ultimately there is an afterlife and the immortality of the soul, and that you will receive twofold for everything you suffer today. But Iyov denied the immortality of the soul and did not believe there is reward after death. Therefore, he says: "A numbered span of years will come" - the years allotted for me to live in this world are fixed and numbered, with neither addition nor subtraction, and eventually the tally of my days and years will arrive. "And I shall walk a path from which I will not return" - and then I will go along a path from which there is no return, to a realm where there is no reward, no punishment, and no recompense for one's actions, and I will not be brought back here to receive life in exchange for the bitter life I have endured. If so, how can you come and tell me that I am suffering now in order to receive good later? I do not believe there is good afterward, nor do I believe that whoever departs ever returns.
In Chapter 16, Iyov opens his ninth response. He addresses neither the prosperity of the wicked nor free will, which have already been thoroughly rehashed, but focuses instead on two points: First, the accusation that Eliphaz turned him into an outright villain, to which Iyov demonstrates - using the parable of the ancient interrogee - that crying out from affliction cannot serve as proof of guilt, since the afflictions preceded the speech rather than the speech preceding the afflictions. He portrays his ostensible trial in all its components - the witness gnashing his teeth, the onlookers gaping open-mouthed and striking the cheek, the unjust judge, and the defense counsel who act as prosecutors - along with the raw agony of the afflictions that convulsed him, shattered him, and set him up as a target for arrows. From here he appeals to Heaven: "O earth, do not cover my blood," "in heaven is my witness," my true advocates are my inner thoughts, and the Judge I seek is God Himself, who should judge me as a man is judged with his fellow. The second point is his rejection of the consolation of the soul's immortality: my years are numbered, followed by a path of no return, and therefore, in his view, there is no comfort in a reward after death.