Chapter 9
| 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: I know very well that this is so: man cannot be in the right before God. Even if he wished to dispute with him, he could not answer one question in a thousand. Wise in mind and mighty in strength, who can resist him and remain unharmed? He suddenly moves mountains and overturns them in his anger; he shakes the earth from its foundations, and its pillars tremble. He commands the sun not to shine and seals away the stars. He alone stretches out the heavens and walks upon the back of the sea. He created the Great Bear and Orion, the Pleiades and the Chambers of the South. He performs wonders beyond understanding, marvels without number. If he passes beside me, I do not see him; he brushes past me, and I do not perceive him. If he seizes his prey, who can take it from him? Who can say to him, “What are you doing?” God does not relent in his anger; beneath him the legions of Chaos bow down. How much less could I answer him or choose arguments against him! Even if I were in the right, I would receive no answer; I would have to plead with my adversary. Even if I summoned him to answer me, I do not believe he would listen to me. He would overwhelm me with the storm and wound me a thousand times without cause. He would not even let me catch my breath, but would fill me with bitterness. If it is a matter of strength and power, there he stands; but if it is a matter of justice, who will summon me? Even if I were in the right, he would condemn me; even if I were innocent, he would declare me guilty. I am innocent; I no longer care about my life, I despise my existence. But it is all the same—I swear to you: God destroys the innocent and the guilty alike. If a calamity suddenly spreads death, he mocks the misfortune of the innocent. He leaves the earth in the power of the wicked and blindfolds its rulers. If it is not he, then who does it? My days race faster than a messenger and slip away without tasting happiness. They glide past like boats of papyrus, like an eagle swooping down upon its prey. And if I say to myself, “I will forget my affliction and put on a cheerful face,” I still fear every kind of misfortune, knowing that he will not acquit me. And if I am guilty, why should I weary myself in vain? Even if I scrubbed myself with soap and washed my hands with lye, you would plunge me into the mud, and even my clothes would recoil from me. God is not a man like me, that I could say to him, “Come, let us appear together in court.” There is no arbiter between us who could lay his hand upon us both and remove his rod from me, so that his terror would no longer drive me mad. Then I could speak without fear; but as things are, I am not master of myself. |
