What number verse is Job 6:12 in the Bible?

Job 6:12 is the 12,991st verse of the Bible. Counting straight through the King James canon — all 31,102 verses from Genesis 1:1 to Revelation 22:21 — Job 6:12 sits at position 12,991.

6:116:11

Job 6:12

Q: Does Job 6:12 suggest that Job is questioning God's power or his own faith?

While Job is certainly questioning the *reason* for his suffering and the adequacy of his friends' explanations, Job 6:12 is primarily a lament expressing the *intensity* of his physical and emotional pain, not a direct challenge to God's power or his own faith. He is asserting that his human constitution is simply not built to withstand such overwhelming and prolonged affliction. His questions are aimed at eliciting empathy and understanding from his friends, highlighting the sheer impossibility of his situation from a human perspective. Throughout the book, despite his complaints and arguments, Job maintains a fundamental trust in God, even when he cannot comprehend God's actions, as seen in his famous declaration, "Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him". This verse is a cry of anguish from a man pushed to his absolute limits, not a renunciation of his Creator.

6:136:13

Translation

King James Version

Is my strength the strength of stones? or is my flesh of brass?

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KJV (with Strong's)

Is my strength ^H3581 the strength ^H3581 of stones ^H68? or is my flesh ^H1320 of brass ^H5153?

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Complete Jewish Bible

Is my strength the strength of stones? Is my flesh made of bronze?

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Berean Standard Bible

Is my strength like that of stone, or my flesh made of bronze?

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American Standard Version

Is my strength the strength of stones? Or is my flesh of brass?

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World English Bible Messianic

Is my strength the strength of stones? Or is my flesh of brass?

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Geneva Bible (1599)

Is my strength the strength of stones? or is my flesh of brasse?

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Young's Literal Translation

Is my strength the strength of stones? Is my flesh brazen?

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Study This Verse

SUMMARY

Job 6:12 encapsulates Job's profound and desperate lament, serving as a powerful rhetorical question that challenges the notion of his superhuman endurance. In this verse, Job vividly contrasts his inherent human frailty and vulnerability—his "flesh"—with the imagined, unyielding strength of inanimate, indestructible materials like "stones" and "brass." It is a poignant cry for empathy, underscoring the overwhelming magnitude of his afflictions and the absolute limits of human capacity to bear such immense and prolonged suffering.

CONTEXT

Literary Context: Job 6:12 is situated within Job's impassioned and extensive first response to his friend Eliphaz, who has just offered counsel implying Job's suffering is a direct consequence of hidden sin. Eliphaz's advice, though perhaps well-intentioned, is seen by Job as superficial and lacking in true understanding of his profound anguish. Job, stripped of his wealth, family, and health (as vividly depicted in Job 2:7-8, where his physical affliction is described), feels utterly overwhelmed. His discourse in Job 6 is a raw outpouring of his soul, a defense of his innocence, and a desperate plea for his friends to comprehend the unbearable weight of his pain. This particular verse functions as a rhetorical climax, asserting that no ordinary human being, no matter how resilient, could possibly withstand the torment he endures without succumbing. It sets the stage for Job's continued arguments against his friends' simplistic theology and his persistent questioning of divine justice.
Historical & Cultural Context: In the ancient Near East, a prevailing theological framework often linked suffering directly to divine retribution for sin, a viewpoint strongly held by Job's friends. Within this cultural milieu, "strength" was a highly esteemed quality, associated with vitality, resilience, and often, divine favor. Conversely, weakness and affliction were frequently viewed as signs of divine displeasure. Materials like stone and brass (or bronze) were universally recognized symbols of durability, permanence, and unyielding resistance. Stone was used for foundations, monuments, and fortifications, signifying immovability. Brass, a hard metal, was employed for tools, weapons, and strong implements, representing imperviousness. Job's strategic use of these materials in his rhetorical questions underscores his desperate attempt to communicate the impossibility of his situation in terms of ordinary human endurance. His lament reflects a deep cultural understanding of the body's fragility and the devastating impact of chronic, unexplained affliction, starkly contrasting his vulnerable human existence with the perceived invincibility of these natural and manufactured elements.
Key Themes: Job 6:12 powerfully contributes to several overarching themes within the book of Job. Firstly, it highlights the theme of human frailty and vulnerability, emphasizing that humanity is indeed "flesh and blood," inherently susceptible to pain, decay, and death, unlike unyielding stone or metal. This underscores the inherent limitations of human strength in the face of overwhelming adversity, a theme echoed in Psalm 103:14, which reminds us that God remembers we are dust. Secondly, the verse speaks to the limits of human endurance, as the questions "Is my strength the strength of stones? or is my flesh of brass?" powerfully convey that his suffering has surpassed normal human capacity. He cannot simply 'steel' himself against it; his physical and emotional resources are utterly exhausted, a sentiment that resonates with the weariness described in Job 7:1-4, where Job speaks of life as hard labor. Finally, it underscores Job's desperation and anguish, serving as a poignant cry for empathy and an indictment of simplistic solutions to profound pain, thereby challenging the friends' superficial theological explanations and highlighting the mystery of suffering.

EXPOSITION AND ANALYSIS

Key Word Analysis

Strength (Hebrew, kôach', H3581): This Hebrew term, H3581, refers to vigor, force, or capacity. It encompasses both physical might and the ability to endure or produce. In Job 6:12, Job uses kôach to refer to his internal fortitude and physical resilience—his capacity to withstand or bear the immense suffering he is experiencing. By questioning if his kôach is like that of stones, he emphasizes its utter depletion and inadequacy for his current trials, highlighting his complete lack of the robust, enduring power he wishes he possessed.
Flesh (Hebrew, bâsâr', H1320): This word, H1320, denotes the physical body, the substance of living beings, often highlighting human mortality and weakness. It can also refer to the person or self. Job uses bâsâr here to underscore his inherent human vulnerability and the very real, debilitating impact of his physical pain, which is consuming his mortal body. It serves as a stark contrast to the imperviousness of metal, emphasizing his susceptibility to suffering and decay.
Brass (Hebrew, nâchûwsh', H5153): This term, H5153, refers to a coppery or bell-metal substance, figuratively described as "hard." It was known for its hardness, durability, and resistance to decay, commonly used for strong, unyielding objects. Job's rhetorical question about his flesh being nâchûwsh highlights the stark contrast between his soft, vulnerable, suffering body and the imagined imperviousness of metal. It emphasizes that his physical being is not unfeeling or indestructible but is instead acutely sensitive to pain and wear.

Verse Breakdown

"Is my strength the strength of stones?": This rhetorical question expresses Job's profound exasperation and the complete physical and emotional exhaustion he feels. He is not genuinely seeking information but making a forceful assertion: his strength is emphatically not like that of stones. Stones are inanimate, unfeeling, and enduring, capable of withstanding immense pressure and time without complaint or decay. Job, a living, breathing, suffering human, possesses no such imperviousness. This clause highlights the complete depletion of his physical and mental fortitude, conveying that his capacity for endurance has been utterly exhausted by his trials.
"or is my flesh of brass?": This second rhetorical question powerfully reinforces the first, using a slightly different metaphor to emphasize the same point of human frailty. Brass (or bronze) is a hard, durable metal, resistant to pain and wear, often associated with unyielding strength. Job's "flesh," his very being, is soft, vulnerable, and acutely sensitive to pain. He is arguing that his body is not an unfeeling, indestructible substance but a fragile, suffering organism that has reached its breaking point. The question underscores the unbearable nature of his torment, asserting that no human body, no matter how resilient, could endure such prolonged and intense suffering without succumbing to it.

Literary Devices

Job 6:12 is profoundly enriched by its use of literary devices, amplifying Job's desperate plea and the depth of his suffering. The most prominent device is the Rhetorical Question, where Job poses two questions not to elicit answers but to make a forceful, self-evident point: his strength is definitively not inhuman, and his flesh is not impervious. This technique effectively conveys his frustration and the obviousness of his suffering to anyone with genuine empathy. Metaphor is central to the verse, as Job compares his "strength" to "stones" and his "flesh" to "brass." These comparisons are not literal but serve to highlight the stark absence of such qualities in his own being, creating a powerful Contrast between his actual human fragility and the imagined, impossible durability he is implicitly being asked to exhibit by his friends. Furthermore, the verse employs Hyperbole, an exaggeration for emphasis. Job's suffering is so extreme that he describes it in terms that exceed normal human capacity, making his physical state seem utterly impossible to bear without some supernatural, non-human constitution. These devices collectively underscore the depth of Job's anguish and his profound sense of being misunderstood and unjustly accused.

THEOLOGICAL AND THEMATIC CONNECTIONS

Job 6:12 serves as a poignant reminder of the inherent limitations of human endurance and the pervasive reality of physical suffering in a fallen world. It challenges simplistic theological frameworks that equate suffering directly with sin, forcing a deeper consideration of the mystery of pain and the inadequacy of human explanations. The verse highlights the preciousness and fragility of human life, made of "flesh" and not "stone" or "brass," underscoring our fundamental dependence on a power greater than ourselves for sustenance and strength. It also subtly introduces the theme of divine sovereignty over human weakness, even if Job himself is not yet articulating it as such, setting the stage for later theological developments in the book where God's power is shown to transcend human understanding and capacity.

REFLECTION AND APPLICATION

Job's desperate cry in Job 6:12 offers profound lessons for us today, calling us to cultivate greater empathy and understanding for those enduring severe trials. It reminds us that pain, whether physical, emotional, or spiritual, is a real and often overwhelming experience, frequently beyond what human strength alone can bear. We are not designed to be impervious like stone or brass; our bodies and minds have finite limits. This verse encourages us to acknowledge our own finite nature, to seek help when overwhelmed, and to resist the urge to offer simplistic, judgmental "solutions" to complex suffering. Instead, we are called to sit with those who hurt, to listen with compassion, and to offer genuine support, recognizing that true strength often lies not in stoic endurance but in acknowledging our weakness and vulnerability, opening ourselves to the support of others and, ultimately, the sustaining power of God. It is in our weakness that we often find the greatest opportunity for God's power to be made manifest.

Questions for Reflection

How does Job's rhetorical question challenge our assumptions about resilience and endurance in the face of suffering?
In what ways might we, like Job's friends, inadvertently minimize or misinterpret the pain of others, offering unhelpful advice?
What does this verse teach us about the importance of acknowledging our own physical and emotional limits and seeking help when needed?
How can recognizing our human frailty lead us to a deeper, more authentic reliance on God's strength and grace?

FAQ

Does Job 6:12 suggest that Job is questioning God's power or his own faith?

Answer: While Job is certainly questioning the reason for his suffering and the adequacy of his friends' explanations, Job 6:12 is primarily a lament expressing the intensity of his physical and emotional pain, not a direct challenge to God's power or his own faith. He is asserting that his human constitution is simply not built to withstand such overwhelming and prolonged affliction. His questions are aimed at eliciting empathy and understanding from his friends, highlighting the sheer impossibility of his situation from a human perspective. Throughout the book, despite his complaints and arguments, Job maintains a fundamental trust in God, even when he cannot comprehend God's actions, as seen in his famous declaration, "Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him". This verse is a cry of anguish from a man pushed to his absolute limits, not a renunciation of his Creator.

CHRIST-CENTERED FULFILLMENT

Job 6:12, with its raw depiction of human frailty and the limits of endurance, finds its ultimate Christ-centered fulfillment in the person and work of Jesus. Unlike Job, who was innocent yet suffered, Jesus, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, was perfectly innocent and willingly embraced the full weight of human suffering. He did not possess the strength of stones or flesh of brass, but was fully human, experiencing pain, hunger, and exhaustion. His agony in Gethsemane, where His sweat became like great drops of blood as He contemplated the cross, and His cry of dereliction, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?", demonstrate that He fully entered into the human experience of pain, weakness, and even apparent abandonment. He did not possess an impervious body but one fully susceptible to pain, humiliation, and death, yet He endured it all for the redemption of humanity. In His weakness, God's strength was made perfect, as the Apostle Paul later articulated in 2 Corinthians 12:9, finding divine power precisely in human vulnerability. Thus, Job's lament about human limits points forward to the One who, though fully human, transcended those limits through divine love and obedience, offering true strength and hope to all who suffer and are weak.

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Commentary on Job 6 verses 8–13

8 ¶ Oh that I might have my request; and that God would grant me the thing that I long for!

9 Even that it would please God to destroy me; that he would let loose his hand, and cut me off!

10 Then should I yet have comfort; yea, I would harden myself in sorrow: let him not spare; for I have not concealed the words of the Holy One.

11 What is my strength, that I should hope? and what is mine end, that I should prolong my life?

12 Is my strength the strength of stones? or is my flesh of brass?

13 Is not my help in me? and is wisdom driven quite from me?

Ungoverned passion often grows more violent when it meets with some rebuke and check. The troubled sea rages most when it dashes against a rock. Job had been courting death, as that which would be the happy period of his miseries, ch. 3. For this Eliphaz had gravely reproved him, but he, instead of unsaying what he had said, says it here again with more vehemence than before; and it is as ill said as almost any thing we meet with in all his discourses, and is recorded for our admonition, not our imitation.

I. He is still most passionately desirous to die, as if it were not possible that he should ever see good days again in this world, or that, by the exercise of grace and devotion, he might make even these days of affliction good days. He could see no end of his trouble but death, and had not patience to wait the time appointed for that. He has a request to make; there is a thing he longs for (Job 6:8); and what is that? One would think it should be, "That it would please God to deliver me, and restore me to my prosperity again;" no, That it would please God to destroy me, Job 6:9. "As once he let loose his hand to make me poor, and then to make me sick, let him loose it once more to put an end to my life. Let him give the fatal stroke; it shall be to me the coup de grace - the stroke of favour," as, in France, they call the last blow which dispatches those that are broken on the wheel. There was a time when destruction from the Almighty was a terror to Job (Job 31:23), yet now he courts the destruction of the flesh, but in hopes that the spirit should be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus. Observe, Though Job was extremely desirous of death, and very angry at its delays, yet he did not offer to destroy himself, nor to take away his own life, only he begged that it would please God to destroy him. Seneca's morals, which recommend self-murder as the lawful redress of insupportable grievances, were not then known, nor will ever be entertained by any that have the least regard to the law of God and nature. How uneasy soever the soul's confinement in the body may be, it must by no means break prison, but wait for a fair discharge.

II. He puts this desire into a prayer, that God would grant him this request, that it would please God to do this for him. It was his sin so passionately to desire the hastening of his own death, and offering up that desire to God made it no better; nay, what looked ill in his wish looked worse in his prayer, for we ought not to ask any thing of God but what we can ask in faith, and we cannot ask any thing in faith but what is agreeable to the will of God. Passionate prayers are the worst of passionate expressions, for we should lift up pure hands without wrath.

III. He promises himself effectual relief, and the redress of all his grievances, by the stroke of death (Job 6:10): "Then should I yet have comfort, which now I have not, nor ever expect till then." See, 1. The vanity of human life; so uncertain a good is it that it often proves men's greatest burden and nothing is so desirable as to get clear of it. Let grace make us willing to part with it whenever God calls; for it may so happen that even sense may make us desirous to part with it before he calls. 2. The hope which the righteous have in their death. If Job had not had a good conscience, he could not have spoken with this assurance of comfort on the other side death, which turns the tables between the rich man and Lazarus. Now he is comforted, and thou art tormented.

IV. He challenges death to do its worst. If he could not die without the dreadful prefaces of bitter pains and agonies, and strong convulsions, if he must be racked before he be executed, yet, in prospect of dying at last, he would make nothing of dying pangs: "I would harden myself in sorrow, would open my breast to receive death's darts, and not shrink from them. Let him not spare; I desire no mitigation of that pain which will put a happy period to all my pains. Rather than not die, let me die so as to feel myself die." These are passionate words, which might better have been spared. We should soften ourselves in sorrow, that we may receive the good impressions of it, and by the sadness of the countenance our hearts, being made tender, may be made better; but, if we harden ourselves, we provoke God to proceed in his controversy; for when he judgeth he will overcome. It is great presumption to dare the Almighty, and to say, Let him not spare; for are we stronger than he? Co1 10:22. We are much indebted to sparing mercy; it is bad indeed with us when we are weary of that. Let us rather say with David, O spare me a little.

V. He grounds his comfort upon the testimony of his conscience for him that he had been faithful and firm to his profession of religion, and in some degree useful and serviceable to the glory of God in his generation: I have not concealed the words of the Holy One. Observe, 1. Job had the words of the Holy One committed to him. The people of God were at that time blessed with divine revelation. 2. It was his comfort that he had not concealed them, had not received the grace of God therein in vain. (1.) He had not kept them from himself, but had given them full scope to operate upon him, and in every thing to guide and govern him. He had not stifled his convictions, imprisoned the truth in unrighteousness, nor done any thing to hinder the digestion of this spiritual food and the operation of this spiritual physic. Let us never conceal God's word from ourselves, but always receive it in the light of it. (2.) He had not kept them to himself, but had been ready, on all occasions, to communicate his knowledge for the good of others, was never ashamed nor afraid to own the word of God to be his rule, nor remiss in his endeavours to bring others into an acquaintance with it. Note Those, and those only, may promise themselves comfort in death who are good, and do good, while they live.

VI. He justifies himself, in this extreme desire of death, from the deplorable condition he was now in, Job 6:11, Job 6:12. Eliphaz, in the close of his discourse, had put him in hopes that he should yet see a good issue of his troubles; but poor Job puts these cordials away from him, refuses to be comforted, abandons himself to despair, and very ingeniously, yet perversely, argues against the encouragements that were given him. Disconsolate spirits will reason strangely against themselves. In answer to the pleasing prospects Eliphaz had flattered him with, he here intimates, 1. That he had no reason to expect any such thing: "What is my strength, that I should hope? You see how I am weakened and brought low, how unable I am to grapple with my distempers, and therefore what reason have I to hope that I should out-live them, and see better days? Is my strength the strength of stones? Are my muscles brass and my sinews steel? No, they are not, and therefore I cannot hold out always in this pain and misery, but must needs sink under the load. Had I strength to grapple with my distemper, I might hope to look through it; but, alas! I have not. The weakening of my strength in the way will certainly be the shortening of my days," Psa 102:23. Note, All things considered, we have no reason to reckon upon the long continuance of life in this world. What is our strength? It is depending strength. We have no more strength than God gives us; for in him we live and move. It is decaying strength; we are daily spending the stock, and by degrees it will be exhausted. It is disproportionable to the encounters we may meet with; what is our strength to be depended upon, when two or three days' sickness will make us weak as water? Instead of expecting a long life, we have reason to wonder that we have lived hitherto and to feel that we are hastening off apace. 2. That he had no reason to desire any such thing: "What is my end, that I should desire to prolong my life? What comfort can I promise myself in life, comparable to the comfort I promise myself in death?" Note, Those who, through grace, are ready for another world, cannot see much to invite their stay in this world, or to make them fond of it. That, if it be God's will, we may do him more service and may get to be fitter and riper for heaven, is an end for which we may wish the prolonging of life, in subservience to our chief end; but, otherwise, what can we propose to ourselves in desiring to tarry here? The longer life is the more grievous will its burdens be (Ecc 12:1), and the longer life is the less pleasant will be its delights, Sa2 19:34, Sa2 19:35. We have already seen the best of this world, but we are not sure that we have seen the worst of it.

VII. He obviates the suspicion of his being delirious (Job 6:13): Is not my help in me? that is, "Have I not the use of my reason, with which, I thank God, I can help myself, though you do not help me? Do you think wisdom is driven quite from me, and that I am gone distracted? No, I am not mad, most noble Eliphaz, but speak the words of truth and soberness." Note, Those who have grace in them, who have the evidence of it and have it in exercise, have wisdom in them, which will be their help in the worst of times. Sat lucis intus - They have light within.

Matthew Henry (1662–1714) — Commentary on the Whole Bible. This section covers verses 8–13. Public domain.

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Gregory the DialogistAD 604

26. For what have we here denoted by ‘brass’ and ‘stones’ save the hearts of the insensate, who oftentimes even receive the strokes of the Most High, and yet they are not softened by any strokes of discipline? Contrary whereunto, it is said to the Elect through the Prophet, by promise from the Lord, I will take the stony heart out of you, and will give you a heart of flesh. [Ezek. 11, 19] Paul also says, Though I speak with the tongues of men and of Angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. [1 Cor. 13, 1] For we know that stones when struck cannot give a clear sound, but when brass is struck a very sonorous sound is made by the striking of it; which, because like stones it is without life, has no sense contained in the sound. And there be some, who, like to stones, have become so hardened as to the precepts of religion, that, when the stroke of the visitation of the Most High is proving them, they never return the sound of humble confession. But some differing in no respect from the metallic nature of brass, when they receive the strokes of the smiting of the Most High, give forth the sound of devout confession; but because they do not send out the tones of humility from the heart, when they have been brought back to a state of sound health, they know nothing what they have vowed. The one then, being struck like stones, have no tones at all, while the other in nothing omit the resemblance of brass, who when under the stroke utter good things which they do not feel. The one sort refuse even words to the worship of the smiter. The other sort, in promising what they never fulfil, cry out without any life. Let the holy man then, who amidst the scourges eschewed the hardness of the reprobate, exclaim, Neither is my strength the strength of stones, nor is my flesh of brass. As though he made open confession in plain words, saying, ‘Under the lash of discipline I keep clear of similarity to the reprobate. For neither have I become like stones so hardened that under the impulse of the stroke I turned dumb in the duty of confession; nor again, like brass do I give back the voice of confession, while I know not the meaning of the voice.’ But because under the scourge the reprobate are strong unto weakness, and the Elect weak unto strength, blessed Job, while he declares that he is not strong of a diseased sense, makes it plain that he is strong of a state of saving health. So let him instruct us whence he received this same strength, lest if he ascribes to himself the powers that he has, he be running vigorously to death. For very often virtue possessed kills worse than if it were wanting, for while it lifts up the mind to self-confidence, it pierces it with the sword of self-elation, and while as it were it quickens by imparting strength, slays by filling with exaltation, i.e. it forces on to destruction the soul, which, through self trust, it uproots from trust in the interior strength. But forasmuch as blessed Job is both rich in virtue, and yet has no confidence in himself, and, that I may say so, in powerlessness is possessed of powers.

Gregory the DialogistAD 604

MORALS ON THE BOOK OF JOB 7.24-28

“What is my strength, that I should wait? And what is my end, that I should be patient?” It is necessary to bear in mind that the “strength” of the righteous is of one sort and the strength of the reprobate of another. For the strength of the righteous is to subdue the flesh, to thwart our own wills, to annihilate the gratification the present life offers, to be in love with the roughness of this world for the sake of eternal rewards, to consider as nothing the allurements of prosperity, to overcome in our hearts the dread of adversity. But the strength of the reprobate is to set their affection unceasingly on transitory things. To endure insensibly the strokes of our Creator (not even by adversity to be brought to cease loving temporal things); to attain vain glory even with a wasted life; to search out ever more wickedness; to attack the life of the good (not only with words and by behavior but even with weapons); to put their trust in themselves; to perpetrate iniquity daily without any diminution of desire.… “Is my strength the strength of stones, or is my flesh bronze?” … Let the holy one, then, who amid the scourges eschewed the reprobate’s hardness, exclaim, “Neither is my strength the strength of stones, nor is my flesh made of brass.” It is as though Job openly confessed in plain words, “Under discipline’s lash I keep clear of acting like the reprobate. For neither have I become like stones so hardened that under the lash’s impulse I remained silent when I should have confessed, nor again have I like brass echoed the voice of confession, while not understanding the meaning of what I was saying. Yet under the scourge, the reprobate manifest a strength that is actually weakness and the elect a weakness that is actually strength. Blessed Job, while declaring that he is not strong due to the disease, makes it plain that he is strong in his state of saving health. So let him inform us as to the source from whom he received this same strength, lest Job ascribe to himself the powers that he possesses … “Those who withhold kindness from a friend forsake the fear of the Almighty.” Who else is here denoted by the name of a friend except every neighbor who is united to us in a faithful attachment proportionate to the good service received from us in this present time? Is this not he who effectually aids us in attaining hereafter the eternal country? For charity possesses two key principles: the love of God and the love of our neighbor. It is through the love of God that the love of our neighbor is born, and by the love of our neighbor the love of God is fostered. For one who does not care to love God truly knows nothing about how to love his neighbor. In turn, we advance more perfectly in the love of God if in the bosom of this love we first be suckled with the milk of charity toward our neighbor. For the love of God begets the love of our neighbor. The Lord, when proceeding to speak in the voice of the law the words “you shall love your neighbor” prefaced it by saying, “You shall love the Lord your God.” The Lord desires to first plant the root of his love in our breast so that afterwards the love of our brothers should blossom in the branches. Again, the love of God grows strong through the love of our neighbor. John testifies to this truth when he says, “For he that does not love his brother, whom he has seen, how can he love God, whom he has not seen?” This love of God, though it is born in fear, is transformed by growing into affection.

Source: Quotations drawn from early Church Fathers and historical Christian theologians (AD 100–1500). Some quotes address the surrounding passage context rather than this verse alone.

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