I am a laughingstock to my friends; I, who called to God and he answered me, a just and blameless man, am a laughingstock.
Job's friends have charged him with sin and answered his pain with platitudes. Here he names what has happened to him: the sufferer has become the joke, and the prayers God once answered are thrown back at him.
Sarcasm first, then the charge
There is an order to Job's reply. It starts with how the friends' words landed on him.
Samuel RidoutStung by the charges and platitudes of the friends, Job meets them with bitter sarcasm, followed quickly by the charge of their mocking him. They are at ease, while holding on to their unjust suspicions of him. He almost compares them to robbers who keep their stolen goods undisturbed.
Mocked for the prayers God answered
The middle clause is the sharpest part of the verse. Job once called on God, and God answered him. His friends now repeat that fact back to him as a sneer.
Arno Clemens GaebeleinYou mock me; I am nothing but a laughingstock. You as my neighbours come to me and say, "He calls on God, that He should answer him." Yet I am the just, the perfect man; you make sport of me. You are at ease and treat the one who is down, overwhelmed by misfortune, with contempt.
Commentators differ on how the clause is best read. One translation keeps it as Job's own settled memory rather than the friends' taunt — something God actually did for him in the past:
William KellyA mockery to his neighbours am I, / One calling on God, and He heard him: / The just, upright, one a mockery!
Blameless, and robbed of his integrity
Job keeps his claim to integrity even while they laugh at him. His friends strip that integrity from him and claim to speak for God while they do it.
Leslie M. GrantJob felt the sadness of his friends mocking him and ridiculing him, though he was just and blameless (v.4). He had been a lamp, giving light. Now these friends despised him in their thoughts. They were comfortable and at ease, and ready to put down those whose feet slip. He even suggests that his friends were acting like robbers who were prospering, since they were stealing away his integrity and provoking God while pretending to speak on God's behalf.
Why the mockers found it so easy
Nothing had gone wrong in the lives of the three men sitting opposite Job. That comfort is what let them sit in judgment on him.
William KellyThat phrase exactly described the situation. These three men were all at ease. Nothing was wrong with them. God had not taken them up, as He had Job, and allowed the devil to do all the evil he could... "The man ready to slip with his feet" — that is what Job felt he was — "is like a lamp despised in the thoughts of a man at ease." If he gives way, what good is the lamp? A lamp needs to be held steady, and a slipping man cannot hold it. It waves and waves down into the mud. But they were all at ease, sitting in judgment on him.
Talk that shed no light
Job's complaint goes deeper than the mockery. Their speeches were true in general and useless in particular.
William KellyThey were only talking platitudes — moral platitudes that anyone with the slightest knowledge of God already knew. They gave no light at all on this very difficult question: how could a devout, God-fearing man fall under such crushing sorrow and affliction? They did not contribute one bit to that question.
Summary
- Stung, then sarcastic — the friends' charges and platitudes wounded Job first. His sarcasm came out of that wound, and then he named their mockery.
- Prayer turned into a joke — God once answered Job when he called. His friends now throw that same fact back at him with contempt.
- Integrity stolen — they ridicule a just and blameless man, steal his integrity, and provoke God while claiming to speak for Him.
- Ease breeds contempt — nothing was wrong with the three. A slipping man looked to them like a lamp not worth holding, so they judged him from comfortable ground.
- True words, no light — their platitudes were already common knowledge. Not one touched the real question: why did a God-fearing man fall under such sorrow?