Job 16 KJV
Summary: Job dismisses his friends as "miserable comforters" (v. 2) whose long-winded speeches bring no relief, and says that if their roles were reversed he could speak as they do, but would instead strengthen and comfort a suffering friend rather than add to his pain. He describes his own affliction in violent, personal imagery, feeling as though God himself has torn him, gnashed at him, and set him up as a target for arrows, while also being mocked and struck by human enemies. Yet amid this despair, Job appeals to heaven for a witness on his behalf, insisting that his prayer is pure and that there is one who can testify to his innocence even as his own body wastes away.
1Then Job answered and said,
2I have heard many such things: miserable comforters are ye all.
3Shall vain words have an end? or what emboldeneth thee that thou answerest?
4I also could speak as ye do: if your soul were in my soul’s stead, I could heap up words against you, and shake mine head at you.
5But I would strengthen you with my mouth, and the moving of my lips should asswage your grief.
6Though I speak, my grief is not asswaged: and though I forbear, what am I eased?
7But now he hath made me weary: thou hast made desolate all my company.
8And thou hast filled me with wrinkles, which is a witness against me: and my leanness rising up in me beareth witness to my face.
9He teareth me in his wrath, who hateth me: he gnasheth upon me with his teeth; mine enemy sharpeneth his eyes upon me.
10They have gaped upon me with their mouth; they have smitten me upon the cheek reproachfully; they have gathered themselves together against me.
11God hath delivered me to the ungodly, and turned me over into the hands of the wicked.
12I was at ease, but he hath broken me asunder: he hath also taken me by my neck, and shaken me to pieces, and set me up for his mark.
13His archers compass me round about, he cleaveth my reins asunder, and doth not spare; he poureth out my gall upon the ground.
14He breaketh me with breach upon breach, he runneth upon me like a giant.
15I have sewed sackcloth upon my skin, and defiled my horn in the dust.
16My face is foul with weeping, and on my eyelids is the shadow of death;
17Not for any injustice in mine hands: also my prayer is pure.
18O earth, cover not thou my blood, and let my cry have no place.
19Also now, behold, my witness is in heaven, and my record is on high.
20My friends scorn me: but mine eye poureth out tears unto God.
21O that one might plead for a man with God, as a man pleadeth for his neighbour!
22When a few years are come, then I shall go the way whence I shall not return.
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