| Collection: | The Book of Job and 42 Paintings |
| Author: | Fr. Antonio Oteiza |
| Type: | Painting |
| Location: | Cataloguing Room |
| Characteristics: | Acrylic paint on cardboard |
| Artwork: |
Click to enlarge |
| Description: |
Job replied: If only my sorrow could be weighed and all my misfortunes placed together on the scales, they would be heavier than the sand; that is why my words are so wild. The arrows of the Almighty are lodged in me, and I feel myself drinking in their poison; the terrors of God have arrayed themselves against me. Does the wild donkey bray when it has grass? Does the ox bellow over its fodder? Does anyone eat tasteless food without salt, or find any flavour in the juice of mallow? What once disgusted me has now become my repulsive food. If only what I ask might come to pass and God would grant me what I hope for: that God would consent to crush me and cut the thread of my life in a single stroke. That would be a consolation to me: even tortured without mercy, I would leap for joy, for I have not denied the words of the Holy One. What strength have I left to endure? What end can I hope for that I should remain patient? Is my strength the strength of rocks, or is my flesh made of bronze? I can no longer find any support within myself, and good fortune has abandoned me. A sick man deserves the loyalty of his friends, even if he forgets the fear of the Almighty; but my brothers have betrayed me like a torrent, like a stream when its waters cease to flow: they run muddy from the ice fields where the snow lies hidden; but with the first heat they dry up, and in the scorching summer they disappear from their beds. They change the paths of their course, wander into the desert and vanish. The caravans of Tema search for them, and the travelling companies of Sheba count on them; but their hope is disappointed, and when they arrive they are dismayed. So too, you have become nothing; you see something terrible and are afraid. Have I asked you to give anything on my behalf, to pay some ransom for me from your own pockets, to deliver me from my adversary or redeem me from a tyrant's power? Teach me, and I will be silent; show me where I have gone wrong. How persuasive truthful words can be! But what do your arguments prove? Do you intend to refute my words, when the words of a desperate man are only wind? You would even cast lots for an orphan and bargain over the price of a friend. Now look at me closely: I swear I will not lie to your faces. Let us continue, please, but without malice; let us continue, for my innocence is at stake. Is there wickedness on my lips? Does my mouth not weigh its words? |