[1] Standing with Job and his other two friends in the trash heap, Eliphaz the Temanite tried to convince Job his suffering was temporary. [2] Eliphaz: Could you bear it if someone were to speak? Ah, but who can hold his tongue in such a situation? [3] Look back, and think on the many you have taught; you have strengthened the weak hands of the suffering. [4] Your words propped up the tottering; you have strengthened mourners' wobbly knees. [5] May my words help you in that way, now that trouble arrives and you despair. It extends its hand, crushes you, and you are overwhelmed. [6] Isn't your fear of God true confidence and your unswerving commitment genuine hope? [7] Take pause; scan your memory: Who ever died among the innocent? And when have the righteous ever met with destruction? [8] The way I see it, those who pull the pernicious plow, Who sow sorrow's seeds, reap the same at harvest. [9] By God's breath, they meet destruction; when His anger explodes, they meet their end. [10] O the bluster of humanity! The lion roars! The king of beasts thunders! Still the young lions' teeth are shattered. [11] The old lion dies for lack of prey, and the whole pride is scattered. [12] Now, listen: a secret word was delivered to me; my ears caught hold of a whisper. [13] In the anxiety of a nightmare- while deep sleep falls on humans- [14] Fear took me by my right arm, terror by my left, and they shook me, they did!-made my bones rattle. [15] Then a wind blew through, a divine breath skimming my face. Every hair on my body stood on end. [16] It came to a stop, but I couldn't make it out- some form there before me, then a hushed voice breaking the silence: [17] "Can a mortal stand innocent before God? Can a man or even a hero be pure before his Creator?" [18] If God is unsure of His own servants, and in His holy attendants He finds fault, [19] How much more those whose bodies come from clay, whose skeletons are dust, are crushed like a moth. [20] From morning to evening, their bodies are broken to pieces, ground back into dirt, unseen, gone forever. [21] When the cords of their tents are pulled up, don't they die, none the wiser?
