Liturgical Colour : White

Job 3 : 1-3, 11-17, 20-23

At length it was Job who spoke, cursing the day of his birth. This is what he said : “Cursed be the day I was born, and the night which whispered : a boy has been conceived. Why did I not die at birth, or come from the womb without breath? Why the knees that received me, why the breasts that suckled me?”

“For then I should have lain down asleep and been at rest with kings and rulers of the earth who built for themselves lonely tombs; or with princes who had gold to spare and houses stuffed with silver.”

“Why was I not stillborn, like others who did not see the light of morning? There the trouble of the wicked ceases, there the weary find repose. Why is light given to the miserable, and life to the embittered? To those who long for death more than for hidden treasure? They rejoice at the sight of their end, they are happy upon reaching the grave.”

“Why give light to a man whose path has vanished, whose ways God blocks at every side?”