There was a man in the land of Uz whose name was Job; and this man was perfect and upright, and one that feared God and abstained from evil.
Job opens with a portrait: one man, named, placed, and measured. God's verdict on his character is on record before any disaster falls.
Where Job lived matters as much as who he was.
Even before God gave the law we see Him, in this most remarkable book, guarding against the trap Israel later fell into. Is it not an advance vindication of God? Job was a Gentile; and one who, as far as location goes, seems to have been in anything but a favourable area. The land of Uz is connected by the prophet Jeremiah with the land of Edom. Nothing could be more suspicious to an Israelite.
It is striking that this book about a non-Israelite survived inside Israel's own Scriptures.
We regard it as little short of a miracle that the people of Israel accepted this very ancient book as part of "the oracles of God," which God "committed" to their hands (see Romans 3:2). Job may have lived at the same time as Abraham. But he was certainly not from Abraham's line, so he was a Gentile. Yet he is introduced to us with words of praise that we hardly find given to any son of Israel.
The verse uses four terms, and each carries its own weight. The ESV says "blameless"; older translations say "perfect," and that is the word these writers discuss.
It says, "that man was perfect." That does not mean there was no evil in him. That is not what "perfect" means in Scripture at all. In the Old Testament it is the word for a man who is sound all through — a sound man, not just a moralist, but a man who was right with God. And besides being sound in that way, he was "upright" with man. "Perfect and upright" showed relations, one to God, and the other to men. Both ought to go together. The great feature of it was "fearing God." Another great feature fitted the other terms used here — refusing or shunning evil.
The same reading of "perfect" holds where the word appears elsewhere in the Old Testament:
"Perfect" here simply means as in Job 1:1, 8, Job 2:3, etc., one of integrity or blameless.
Reading the fear of God here as real spiritual life changes how the rest of the book lands.
Then, he feared God; this is the "beginning of knowledge," and we must take it at its full value. Job was not, as some have thought, an unregenerate man; there was life in his soul. He was a child of God, not a sinner away from Him. Unless we see this, much of what he went through will lose its meaning. Finally, he "shunned evil"; his outward walk matched the state of his heart.
The order of the opening chapter is deliberate — who Job was comes first, what he owned comes second.
The opening page of this remarkable book gives us a view of the patriarch Job, surrounded by everything that could make the world agreeable to him, and make him of importance in the world… Thus much as to what he was. Let us now see what he had.
Settling his character first is what makes the coming furnace meaningful rather than merely cruel.
His wealth was very great, for God had blessed him with earthly blessings in earthly places. It is important to notice this before Job goes into the furnace. The genuineness of his character is a settled question, on the testimony of God.
Everything in verse 1 is true, and still something enormous is missing.
But, with all this, Job had never sounded the depths of his own heart. He did not know himself. He had never grasped the truth of his own utter ruin and total depravity… You must seize this point, or you will not understand the book of Job. Job was called to pass through deep and painful trials. We will not see their specific purpose unless we lay hold of one solemn fact: his conscience had never truly been in the Divine presence. He had never seen himself in the light.
Knowing God and knowing yourself are two separate lessons:
Job had to come to know himself in a way he never could have imagined. Knowing yourself is very different from being converted to God, and it is necessary if we are to be fully blessed.
Even his name fits his story.
According to those who study the language, the name Job can carry two meanings. Both of them fit his history well. It may mean "one assailed" or "treated as an enemy." It may mean "one who turns" — by implication the "penitent."
- Place — Uz lay near Edom, outside the chosen nation. The book is God's advance answer to the idea that He cared only for Israel.
- Portrait — "Perfect" does not mean sinless; it means sound and whole. Perfect describes Job toward God. Upright describes him toward people. Both belong together.
- Proof — The fear of God here is real life in the soul, not moral effort. Job is a child of God from the start, before any trial.
- Priority — God's testimony settles that Job is genuine, and it stands on record before the furnace is ever lit.
- Problem — A man can be right with God and still never have seen himself in God's light. Closing that gap is what the whole book is for.
And there were born to him seven sons and three daughters.
Job's story opens with a portrait before it opens with a trial, and the family named here is part of that portrait. Ten children stand alongside his character and his flocks. The rest of the book asks whether those gifts were the real reason he feared God.
This is not a stray family record. The children belong to a portrait, and the fear of God rules every part of it:
The Spirit of God opens the book with a lovely picture of Job's character, family, and position. We see himself, his sons, and his daughters in all the intimacy of private life, and this in him ruled by the fear of God.
Seven and three are not random totals. The same numbers shape the list of his livestock:
Job's prosperity matched his moral character. By Old Testament standards he was a rich man, in his family and in his possessions. He had seven sons, and their number suggests completeness. He had three daughters, and that number is the sign of his character and excellence. The same numbers show up in what he owned — seven thousand sheep and three thousand camels — while the five hundred yoke of oxen and donkeys show complete ability for all work.
Seven sons meant more than a headcount. The women of Bethlehem used the phrase to comfort Naomi in her loss:
In Ruth she had found "the comfort of love" in the loneliness of her triple bereavement... Ruth herself "is more to you than seven sons." Has she not borne to you a grandson, the son of Boaz? To be the mother of seven or more sons was thought a remarkable honour in family life.
Set the children beside the rest of what Job had, and nothing is missing:
The hand of God had put a hedge around him on every side, and covered his path with the richest mercies. He had all that heart could wish — children and wealth in abundance — honour and distinction from everyone around him. In short, we may almost say his cup of earthly happiness was full.
A gift can become the thing the heart rests in. One writer applies that danger to the reader, then to Job:
The gifts then become a snare to us, and Satan's charge against us is often partly true. What gives us rest and quietness of spirit before God is His kindness and mercies to us, and not simply the knowledge of His love. This is very clear from the violent grief and despair many of His people fall into when they lose some particular mercy. They had rested in the gift more than in God. The gift was their evidence of His love, but the love itself was not what their heart rested in. Satan knows this tendency in man, so he does not hesitate to accuse Job of it. He says that Job had no link with God, and no reverence for Him, except because of God's abundant mercies to him.
All ten children named here die together later in the chapter. One writer counts what that cost him:
But Job! What shall we say of him? Not one painful bereavement, but ten — all merged into one huge, overwhelming blow! Not one child, but all! Firstborn and youngest, son and daughter, all gone at a single stroke!
At the end of the book Job has a new family — seven sons and three daughters again, the same numbers as here. One writer reads that repetition as a message:
Suppose God had given him fourteen sons and six daughters. The conclusion would then be that his first children were lost to him for good, just as his first sheep and camels and oxen and donkeys were. By giving him only seven sons and three daughters again, God was in effect telling him three things. The first family was not lost for good. God had heard his prayers and intercessions. And there is a resurrection world where he and they will meet again.
- Given — the ten children were born to him, part of a picture of Job's character, family and position, all ruled by the fear of God.
- Full — seven and three are numbers of completeness, and the flocks repeat them. Nothing was missing, and a large family brought remarkable honour.
- Questioned — Satan does not deny the blessing. He calls it the motive: take the gifts away, he says, and Job's reverence goes too.
- Taken — all ten die together, not one bereavement but ten merged into a single blow.
- Kept — at the end God gives seven sons and three daughters again, not fourteen and six: a sign that the first ten were not lost for good.