And Zophar the Naamathite answered and said,
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Should not the multitude of words be answered? and should a man of much talk be justified?
Zophar is the last of Job's three friends to speak, and he opens with no sympathy — only two sharp questions about Job's talking. Behind them lies a real question aimed at the wrong man: can a flood of words ever prove someone right?
Commentators see a clear difference between the three friends, and Zophar's temper shows in his first line.
It has been thought, with some likelihood, that Zophar was the youngest of the three friends. He speaks last, and his speech has the same general character as the other two, but it is more intense. It lacks the dignity of Eliphaz and the reasoning power of Bildad. He makes up in heat what he lacks in reason, and this leads him into harshness and brutal rudeness, which was hardly the way to soothe the sore spirit of the sufferer.
Where the ESV says "a man full of talk," an older translation reads "a man of lips." One writer sets out Zophar's opening lines like this:
And Zophar, the Naamathite, answered and said, Shall not the multitude of words be answered? And shall a man of lips be justified? Your babbling puts men to silence: and you mock, and no one says, Shame!
That is all Zophar will credit to Job: no grief, no argument — only noise.
Job's speeches had been the cries of a man in agony. To file them under "talk" was to misread them completely.
It is most unfair to describe the struggles of a plainly upright soul as "a multitude (or torrent) of words," and the man himself as "a man of lips." Where is the fairness in calling Job's cries out of the depths "lies," or his sharp thrusts "mockery"? On the other hand, Job had indeed declared himself and his doctrine pure, and if Zophar could have disproved this it would have gone a long way to help matters.
Commentators differ here. Another writer holds that Job never made the claim Zophar pins on him:
"Should not the multitude of words" — that is all he would allow on Job's part — "be answered, and should a man full of talk be justified?"… Now Job had never said either. He had never said that his doctrine was pure. What he said was, that he held to God and to His ways. And what he said about his conduct was that he was not a hypocrite. He admitted that he might have sinned in some way he did not know about, and that this could account for the terrible storm of affliction crushing his soul into the dust.
The charge "you talk too much" often comes from someone who has run out of reply.
He attacks Job at once for his "multitude of words." Those words were too much for him to answer, so he falls back on the trick of calling Job nothing but "full of talk," and "empty talk" at that (v.2). He did not stop to think that Job's words had been aimed at God, not at him. Yet he seems to think that he can give a satisfactory answer on God's behalf!
Zophar's verdict on Job turns out to be a verdict on Zophar.
So Zophar gives Job credit for nothing beyond a multitude of words and idle talk. The unanswerable case against their theory — that God repays every sin in this present life — was to him only babbling… He had not learnt that we should not judge, or we will be judged, and that our judgments really judge us. A solid and gracious judgment proves that we dwell in God, since we dwell in love and walk according to light. A harsh judgment shows, in the same measure, how far we are ruled by thoughts and feelings that rise no higher than self.
Zophar aimed the question at the wrong man, but the question itself is worth keeping.
God takes note of the believer's faith, and counts it to him for righteousness. But people cannot see faith. Suppose they challenge us: on what ground do we claim to be pardoned and saved, children of God and heirs with Christ? We cannot simply reply, "We have faith." We must justify the place we take by something other than words… Not by lip, but by life; not by words, but by works, can we convince others that we are what we say we are.
- Words — Zophar reduces Job to "a man of lips." He hears only noise, but Job was crying out of the depths.
- Weakness — He calls it empty talk because he cannot answer it. The charge hides the hole where his argument should be.
- Wrong target — Commentators differ over what Job actually claimed; one holds that Job never said his doctrine was pure at all.
- Warning — Harsh judgment turns back on the judge. It shows whether love and light rule us, or self.
- Walk — The question outlives the man who asked it: talk cannot prove us to others. Only a life can.
Should thy fictions make men hold their peace? and shouldest thou mock, and no one make [thee] ashamed?
Zophar is the last of Job's three friends to speak, and he opens with an accusation instead of comfort. He wants Job's talk stopped and Job put to shame. Was any of that fair to a man crushed by loss?
Zophar speaks last of the three friends. One writer weighs him against the two who spoke before him.
The third friend of Job is in every way the weakest. Speaking last he must have been the youngest of the three. He lacks the dignity of Eliphaz and the gentleness of Bildad, and he does not have the depth of either. Job's speech has clearly taxed his patience and irritated him.
Zophar loads the verse with three charges: Job's talk, Job's mocking, and the shame someone owes him. The writer below quotes an older translation, which has "lies" where the ESV has "babble." He takes the words one by one and sets them against what Job actually said.
"Should not the multitude of words" — that is all he would allow on Job's part — "be answered, and should a man full of talk be justified? Should your lies" — think how far he went — "should your lies make men keep silent? and when you mock" — that was all he considered it — "shall no man make you ashamed? For you have said, My doctrine is pure, and I am clean in your eyes." Now Job had never said either. He had never said that his doctrine was pure. What he said was that he held to God and to His ways. And what he said about his conduct was that he was not a hypocrite.
Zophar attacks how much Job says. One writer explains why: he cannot answer what Job says.
He attacks Job at once for his "multitude of words." Those words were too much for him to answer. So he falls back on a trick: he accuses Job of being only "full of talk," and "empty talk" at that. He did not stop to think that Job had aimed his words at God, not at him. Yet he seems to think that he can answer well enough for God! He accused Job of mocking, which was not true. Job was in far too much distress to mock. But Zophar thought he needed rebuking.
Zophar charges Job with grave sin, but he proves nothing. One writer weighs the labels, and shows that a true word about God's wisdom cannot prop up an unjust charge.
It is deeply unfair to call the anguished struggles of a clearly upright soul "a multitude (or torrent) of words," and to call the man himself "a man of lips." What fairness is there in calling Job's cries out of the depths "lies," or his sharp thrusts "mockery"? … But he has no proof. Even so, he charges Job with being such a grievous sinner that even his present sufferings were less than he deserved. And he would link God with this dreadful charge. It is quite true that divine wisdom is double our highest thoughts of it. But he cannot link that wisdom with unfair suspicions or unjust charges.
Zophar's opening question sets the temperature for everything that follows. Reading the chapter as a unit, one writer measures it against the two speeches before it.
In Job 11 we have the brief speech of Zophar, the third of Job's friends, and reading it, we notice that his tone is a little more severe even than Bildad's was. Possibly he was irritated by the fact that Job had not accepted the charges and arguments of the other two, but it was overshooting the mark and unfriendly to charge him with a "multitude of words," of being "full of talk," of uttering "lies," and of mocking. Nor had he claimed to be "clean" in the sight of God.
Zophar wants Job shamed. One writer turns the verse around: our judgments say more about us than about the person we judge.
Zophar gives Job credit for nothing beyond a multitude of words and idle talk. The grounds against their theory of strict repayment in this life could not be answered. To him they were only babbling… He had not learned that we should not judge, in case we are judged. Our judgments really judge us. If they are solid and gracious, they prove that we dwell in God, dwelling in love and walking according to light. If they are harsh, they show just how far thoughts and feelings that have no source higher than self govern us.
- Weakest speaks loudest. The last and youngest friend lacks the dignity of one and the gentleness of the other. Irritation, not insight, drives his opening question.
- Volume for substance. Job's words were too much for Zophar to answer, so he attacked their quantity instead — the standard move of a man out of arguments.
- Grief called mockery. Job was in far too much distress to mock. He never claimed that his doctrine was pure or that he was clean. He claimed only that he was no hypocrite.
- Charges without proof. Calling an upright man's cries out of the depths "lies" is unfair. A true word about God's wisdom cannot prop up an unjust charge.
- The judge judged. Harsh verdicts measure the judge, not the accused. Gracious judgment shows a life lived in God. Harsh judgment shows a heart ruled by self.
For thou sayest, My doctrine is pure, and I am clean in thine eyes.
Job has just poured out his anguish to God, and now the third of his visitors breaks in — not to comfort, but to correct. Zophar puts two claims into Job's mouth. Much of the commentary on this verse turns on one question: did Job ever say them?
One writer reads the verse as a misquotation. Zophar puts into Job's mouth a boast Job never made.
"For you say, 'My doctrine is pure, and I am clean in God's eyes.'" Now Job had never said either. He had never said that his doctrine was pure. What he said was, that he held to God and to His ways. And what he said about his conduct was that he was not a hypocrite. He admitted that he might have sinned in some way he did not know about. That, he thought, could explain the terrible storm of suffering that crushed his soul into the dust.
Commentators differ here. One writer holds that Job had in fact claimed this, and faults Zophar for charging him without proof:
On the other hand, Job had indeed declared himself and his doctrine pure. If Zophar could have disproved that, it would have gone a long way to help matters. But he charges Job without any proof. He calls him such a terrible sinner that even his present sufferings were less than he deserved, and he ties God to this dreadful charge.
One writer traces Zophar's certainty to an assumption all three friends shared: that some hidden evil must lie behind Job's disasters.
He takes up the harsh thoughts of those who attacked Job, and gives no weight at all to Job's pleading in his misery. Instead he starts to hold that sad thought which all of them voice: that some serious, hidden evil must lie underneath, and that it is the cause of Job's many disasters, worse than any others on record. He is as certain as a bad suspicion can make a man.
Another writer finds an irony here. The man who blames Job for criticising God ends up doing the same thing.
Since Job had said his doctrine was pure and his conduct clean, Zophar was in effect accusing God of failing to speak out against Job! So Zophar does what he thinks God ought to have done! He knew Job had criticised God, but now he was doing the same without realising it!
Being clean in God's eyes is not the same as being clean in your own eyes, or in other people's. One writer finds Job's real fault right there.
He was never so bold as to say, "I am clean in God's eyes." No, no, far from it. Sadly, he had rested in being clean in his own eyes, and in the eyes of other people. But he had to learn that being clean in God's eyes was a very different thing.
Another writer explains where that confidence went wrong.
Job's thoughts are mixed. He is not quite meeting God as a sinner, but as a man who is aware of "the root of the matter" in his heart. His mistake is to confuse this with his own personal worth, and so spoil the very idea of grace. Who of all mankind could stand before a God who is utterly holy and say, "I am clean"?
Zophar sees a real problem and has no cure for it.
He sees that Job is wrong to seek to be clean in his own eyes. But it is not in him to show Job how he can be a sinner and yet be justified. He can tell that if Job were not a sinner, then things would be most blessed for him. That is all that Zophar, or mere human light, can do. This is human religion. I must try not to be a sinner, and then I shall be happy, and God will not be against me.
The friends could bring no charge against Job, and Job asked God to speak. One writer follows what came of that.
They were not able to say anything — they could bring nothing against him. All of them said the same, and judged him in a most severe and unmerciful way. So he asked that God would speak. Well, God did speak; and when God spoke it was not to the honour of Zophar, nor of Bildad, nor of Eliphaz. But even so, it was because Job prayed for them that the anger of the Lord did not fall on those three men.
- Misquoted. Most commentators hold that Job never claimed pure doctrine or cleanness before God. One writer grants that he did claim it, and faults Zophar for charging him with no proof.
- Self-appointed. Wishing God would speak against Job, Zophar speaks for Him, doing the very thing he condemns in Job.
- Two mirrors. Job could be clean in his own eyes and in other people's, and still have to learn what clean in God's eyes means.
- Dead end. Human religion can see the fault but cannot show how God justifies a sinner. It only says try harder.
- Answered. God did speak in the end, and it brought no honour to Zophar; Job's prayer was what spared his three friends.
But oh that +God would speak, and open his lips against thee;
Zophar is the third of Job's friends to speak. He opens with a wish: that God would break His silence and answer Job. It sounds devout. But older translations render the second half "open his lips against you," and that one word changes everything.
Zophar has no doubt what God would say if He spoke. One writer shows him filling a silence he thinks God should have filled Himself:
He accused Job of mocking, which was not true. Job was in far too much distress to mock. But Zophar thought Job needed a rebuke (v.3). Job had said his teaching was pure and his conduct clean. So Zophar was really accusing God of failing to speak out against Job! (v.4). Then Zophar does what he thinks God ought to have done! He knew Job had criticised God, but now he was doing the same without realising it!
The wish shows what Zophar believed about God. If God's only word to a broken man is a rebuke, the fault lies with the man who imagines it:
These words are full of legalism. They prove that Zophar had no right sense of God's character. He did not know God. No one who truly knows God could speak of Him as opening His lips against a poor suffering sinner. No one could speak of Him as demanding anything from a needy, helpless creature. God is not against us, but for us, blessed for ever be His Name! He is not a stern collector of debts, but a generous giver… Zophar and everyone who thinks like him know God only as a stern collector — as One who, if He opens His lips, can only speak against the sinner.
Each of the three friends reached his verdict by a different route:
Eliphaz used his eyes; Bildad used his ears; and Zophar used his brains. Not one of them found the solution to this problem by human wisdom, no matter how they came by that wisdom.
Zophar wanted God to open His lips and show Job "the secrets of wisdom" (v.6). But such secrets never come from a sharp mind:
Behind the world we can see, God is working out something that natural eyes cannot see and the natural mind cannot understand. Everyone can observe nature all around us. But only those whom God teaches can receive the spiritual things that lie underneath the created world: "the secrets of wisdom … double to that which is."
The wish was granted, but not on Zophar's terms. Job had asked for the same thing, and neither man guessed what God would do:
Job insisted that he was sound in faith and in life, and this irritated Zophar greatly. So he only wanted God to speak, as Job had dared to ask. Like the rest of them, he never expected the intervention God was about to grant — not only for them, but for our sakes. Zophar had not a doubt what the sentence would be. He had not learnt that we should not judge, lest we be judged, and that our judgments really judge ourselves.
When God answered, He spoke of Himself, not of Job's supposed crimes:
In the end God Himself spoke to the suffering man. He did not use the soft, tender tones we hear in the New Testament; the time for that had not yet come. Jehovah spoke to Job out of the whirlwind, not once but twice, and with a thunderous voice, telling of His power, His majesty, His providence.
Zophar could say what a man without sin might expect. He could not answer how a sinner is justified — counted right before God:
He cannot show Job how a man can be a sinner and yet be justified. He can say that if Job were not a sinner, all would be well with him. That is all that Zophar, or mere human light, can do. This is human religion. I must try not to be a sinner, and then I shall be happy, and God will not be against me.
- The wish — Zophar asks God to speak, but only as a prosecutor. He treats God's silence as a mistake he must correct himself.
- The God behind the wish — a God who, if He opened His lips, could only speak against a sufferer. Commentators answer that this is not the God of Scripture, who is for us and gives freely.
- The method — eyes, ears and brains gave Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar three confident answers and no solution. God alone gives the secrets of wisdom; no mind reasons them out.
- The answer — God did speak, out of the whirlwind. He said nothing Zophar predicted. The man who was sure of the verdict never imagined what God would do.
- The lesson — our judgments of others end up judging us. Zophar could describe God's greatness; he could not tell a sinner how to be justified.
And that he would shew thee the secrets of wisdom, how that they are the double of what is realised; and know that +God passeth by [much] of thine iniquity!
Zophar is the last of Job's three friends to speak. He wishes God Himself would break the silence and expose Job — and he is sure what the verdict would be. His words hold a real truth: God's wisdom runs far deeper than anything we can see. But he wraps that truth around a charge the book itself has already contradicted.
Zophar does not weigh Job's case. He pronounces on it.
In Job 11 we have the brief speech of Zophar, the third of Job's friends. Reading it, we note that his tone is a little more severe even than Bildad's was. Perhaps he was irritated because Job had not accepted the charges and arguments of the other two. But it went too far, and it was unfriendly, to charge him with a "multitude of words," with being "full of talk," with uttering "lies," and with mocking. Zophar does not yet show us where he stands. Yet he declared, as though from an oracle, that Job deserved harsher punishment from God's hands than he was getting. But Job's suffering was greater than any other on record. And the discussion centred on how God disciplines people in this life, not on eternity. So this again strikes us as harsh and dogmatic in the extreme.
Zophar wishes God would show Job the "secrets of wisdom." An older rendering calls them "double to that which is" — twice as much as we can see.
Behind this material creation, God is working out something that natural eyes cannot see and natural intellect cannot understand. Anyone can observe the natural world all around us. But only those whom God teaches can receive the spiritual things that lie under the material creation: "the secrets of wisdom … double to that which is." God is not only seeking to interest us in the material creation, where anyone with ordinary intelligence can be taught. He has also given us light as to why He brought this creation into being. He is teaching us today about what lies behind it all: the working out of His eternal plan for His own glory and the glory of Christ. That plan includes the blessing and final glory of each one of us. I believe these things to be "the double."
Zophar pictures a God who opens His lips only to accuse, and who collects every debt.
These words have a strong flavour of legality. They prove very clearly that Zophar had no right sense of the divine character. He did not know God. No one who truly knows God could speak of Him as opening His lips against a poor afflicted sinner. No one could speak of Him as demanding anything from a needy, helpless creature. God is not against us, but for us, blessed for ever be His Name! He is not a legal exactor, but a generous giver.
Zophar has no facts. He infers Job's guilt from Job's pain, then makes God the author of the sentence.
He has no proof. Yet he charges Job with being such a grievous sinner that even his present sufferings were less than he deserved, and he would tie God to this dreadful charge. It is perfectly true that divine wisdom is double our highest thoughts of it. But he cannot join that wisdom to unfair suspicions or unjust charges.
The reader already knows heaven's verdict. It is the opposite of Zophar's.
God was not exacting anything from Job; that is not God's character at all. All the comforters agreed with Zophar that God was dealing with Job because of his sins, but we know very well that God has already said of this man that he was righteous (1:8; 2:3).
Zophar was certain of the sentence before God ever spoke.
He had not learnt that we should not judge, lest we be judged, and that our judgments really judge ourselves. If they are solid and gracious, they prove that we dwell in God, dwelling in love and walking according to light. If they are harsh, they show in the same measure that thoughts and feelings with no source higher than self are ruling us. Job would find, he was sure, that the secrets of wisdom are double when you look into them, and that God was not exacting from him what his iniquity deserved: he held the gravest fears about his friend.
- Speaker. Zophar is the third and harshest friend. He declares, as if from an oracle, that Job's suffering is lighter than he deserves.
- Truth. The "secrets of wisdom" really are double what we see. God's eternal plan lies behind the visible creation, and only those He teaches receive it.
- Error. Zophar assumed he already held those secrets. He turned them into evidence against a man he could not prove guilty.
- God. He is not a legal exactor demanding payment from the helpless, but a generous giver — a God for us, not against us.
- Warning. Our judgments of others judge us; harsh verdicts expose a source no higher than self.
Canst thou by searching find out +God? canst thou find out the Almighty to perfection?
Zophar, the third of Job's friends, answers Job's suffering by pointing to the size of God. His question is fair, but he has already decided that Job is hiding sin — so can true words be aimed at the wrong man? (Older translations read: "Can you by searching find out God? Can you find out the Almighty to perfection?")
Each of Job's three friends leaned on something different. Zophar leaned on his own mind.
Zophar the Naamathite did not care about what everyone could see. He was not interested in what his ancestors had taught him. He thought he was clever enough to solve this problem himself. He had enough intelligence of his own to solve it. So you find Eliphaz the Temanite used his eyes, Bildad the Shuhite used his ears, and Zophar the Naamathite used his brain. But all this wisdom was hopeless, dear friends, when it came to this divine problem that surrounded this wonderful man Job.
The limit Zophar names is real. But he never sees that it shuts him out just as much as Job.
It was true that Job could not search out the depths of God's wisdom, or "find out the limit of the Almighty." But did Zophar think God has any limits? He is infinite, not limited in any way. Zophar applied his words only to Job, but they were just as applicable to Zophar too! But he thought himself so wise that he did not need to learn, as Job did. No one can know God's thoughts unless He reveals them.
Our minds are not just too small for now, with room to grow later. The word "God" itself rules the search out.
If man can bring God within the limits of his own thoughts, if by searching he can find Him out, then God is really not God at all — or else man is God. At least man's mind would match the divine infinity. But when it comes to power instead of proud claims, we soon find out the difference.
Job had already admitted this before Zophar said it. That leaves only one way for anyone to know God.
One serious effect of sin entering the world was that mankind lost the true knowledge of God. Once lost, no effort of man's will or mind could win back that highest and best of all knowledge. Zophar asked, "Can you by searching find out God?" In an earlier chapter Job had confessed the same inability, saying, "Behold, he passes by me, and I see him not; he moves on, but I do not perceive him." Since we cannot discover God, He must make Himself known to us. Revelation becomes a necessity.
Better instruments do not settle the question. Careful study still comes back with Zophar's answer.
Science is in the presence of the old, old mystery; the old, old questions come to her — "Can you by searching find out God? Can you find out the Almighty to perfection?" And science answers these questions as they were answered of old — "As for the Almighty, we cannot find Him out." That is true testimony; He cannot be found by the searchings of science, any more than by the reasonings of rationalism. But, blessed be His holy Name, He has been graciously pleased to reveal Himself fully in the One to whom all Scripture points. That One is the Son of God, our Lord Jesus Christ.
So the answer depends on where you begin, and on who does the searching. Zophar lists four measurements of God. The same four appear later in Scripture in reverse order.
We have found Him out by the Holy Spirit, for "the Spirit searches everything, even the depths of God."… Truly the knowledge of God is as high as heaven, but we have the ability to rise to these heavenly things. "Deeper than hell" would carry us in thought to the cross. There the Son of God went down into death to overthrow every force opposed to the will of God. "The measure… longer than the earth" refers to the counsel of God before time began, which will reach to the new scene when time has ended. "Broader than the sea" would take in all things in heaven and all things on earth, headed up in Christ. So, dear friends, we have found out God… Zophar speaks of the height, depth, length and breadth. The apostle Paul speaks of the breadth, length, depth and height — quite the other way round, because they were working from two different ends.
- Search. One friend trusted his eyes, one his ears, and Zophar his own mind. All three failed.
- Limit. The verse states a real boundary, but Zophar aimed it only at Job; it applied to him just as much.
- Impossibility. If a mind could take God's measure, that mind would be equal to God — so the failure is not a shortage of effort.
- Revelation. We cannot discover Him, so He must show Himself. Science and reason still hit Zophar's wall. The Son makes Him known.
- Reversal. Start from creation and the four measurements defeat you. Start from Christ and they map out what God has shown us.
[It is as] the heights of heaven; what wilt thou do? deeper than Sheol; what canst thou know?
Zophar answers a suffering man by piling up distances no one can cross. His words about God are grand, but was he right to aim them at Job — and can anyone find God out?
Job's three friends each leaned on a different tool of human wisdom. Zophar is the third.
Eliphaz used his eyes; Bildad used his ears; and Zophar used his brains. Not one of them found the solution to this problem by human wisdom, however they came by that wisdom.
What Zophar says about God's unreachable depth is sound. The trouble is where he points it.
It was true, of course, that Job could not search out the depths of God's wisdom, or "find out the limits of the Almighty." Did Zophar think God has any limits? He is infinite, not limited in any way. Zophar aimed his words at Job alone, but they fitted Zophar just as well! He thought himself so wise that he did not need to learn, as Job did. God's thoughts are higher than the heaven, deeper than Sheol (v.8). No one can know them unless God reveals them.
Verses 8 and 9 pile up four distances. Not one of them can take God's measure. (Some older translations say "hell" where the ESV says "Sheol".)
Next, Zophar speaks in grand terms about the absolute and infinite perfection of God. The heights of heaven, the depths of hell, the length of the earth, the breadth of the sea — none of them can measure His wisdom. What a disaster it would be for man to stand before Him, if He were to open a case against him, as Job had so rashly challenged Him to do.
These four measurements appear once more in Scripture, in Ephesians 3. One writer reads them in the light of Christ, and notices that Paul lists them backwards.
This is the only place besides Ephesians 3 where these four dimensions appear in Scripture, so far as I know. The knowledge of God really is as high as heaven, yet we have the ability to rise to these heavenly things, as we have seen. "Deeper than hell" would carry us in thought to the cross. There the Son of God went down into death, so that He might overthrow every force opposed to the will of God... Note another interesting point here. Zophar speaks of the height, the depth, the length and the breadth. The apostle Paul, writing under Divine inspiration, speaks of the breadth, the length, the depth and the height. It is the other way round, because the two of them were working from opposite ends.
The gap Zophar names is not one a cleverer man could close.
The distance between a man and an ant is very great, but in the end it is a limited distance... Can an ant understand what is going on in a man's mind?... But the distance between God and man is infinitely greater than that between man and ant. God is the Creator. Man is the creature. The distance between them is infinite. No arithmetic is of any use here.
So Zophar's question still gets a flat no — as long as man is the one searching.
The searches of science cannot find Him, any more than human reasoning can. Man's boastful attempts all fail alike. But — blessed be His Holy Name — in His grace He has fully revealed Himself in the One to whom all Scripture points: the Son of God, our Lord Jesus Christ.
That changes the whole feel of the immeasurable. What overwhelms the believer is no longer a blank.
Go up to heaven, and we find Wisdom. Go down into Sheol, and it is still there. The earth for length and the sea for breadth cannot take the measure of this attribute of God... In the New Testament we are overwhelmed — not by a dark and unsearchable mystery, or by an avenger who will not be appeased, but by "the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge."
- Unsearchable. No creature's reach is long enough. The distance between Creator and creature is infinite, and no arithmetic closes it.
- Unapplied. What Zophar said about God was true, but he aimed it only at Job. It fitted him just as well.
- Unaided. Eyes, ears and brains all failed here. God's thoughts stay unknown unless God reveals them.
- Unveiled. The four measurements return in Ephesians 3, in reverse order. Zophar and Paul work from opposite ends.
- Unmeasured love. The last word is not a closed door. It is the love of Christ — beyond knowledge, yet known.
The measure thereof is longer than the earth, and broader than the sea.
Zophar is the third of Job's friends. He answers a broken man by pointing to the size of God: higher than heaven, deeper than the grave, wider than earth and sea. The words are magnificent. But did he have any right to aim them at Job? And is "you cannot measure God" where the matter ends?
One writer goes through the speech line by line. He agrees with almost every statement, then rejects the use Zophar made of it.
Zophar says some things that are very excellent — properly applied. He says, "Can you find out the deep things of God?" Well, nobody can; God must reveal Himself. "Can you find out the limit of the Almighty?" Only if God speaks. "Its measure is longer than the earth" — certainly. And the earth was far too small a measure. "And broader than the sea." He might have taken in all the universe. But Zophar's notion was all wrong.
The limit Zophar presses on Job rests on Zophar too.
Certainly Job could not search out the depths of God's wisdom. Did Zophar think God has any limits? He is infinite, not limited in any way. Zophar applied his words only to Job, but they were just as applicable to Zophar too! But he thought himself so wise that he did not need to learn, as Job did.
The verse holds up two rulers against God: the land for length, the sea for breadth. Neither can measure Him.
This, the finest part of the address, expands what he had just said... It is a noble description of God. Go up to heaven, and we find Wisdom; go down to Sheol, and it is still there. The earth for length and the sea for breadth cannot take in the measure of this attribute of God. Two passages come to mind: Psalm 139 in the Old Testament, and Ephesians 3 in the New. They describe the presence and power of God in the same way. But the Psalmist is glad that he cannot "drift beyond His love and care." In the New Testament we are overwhelmed, not by a dark and unsearchable mystery, or by an avenger who cannot be turned aside, but by "the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge."
If searching cannot cross that measure, knowledge of God must come from His side.
One serious effect of sin entering the world was that mankind lost the true knowledge of God. Once lost, no effort of man's will or intellect could win that highest and best of all knowledge back. "Can you find out the deep things of God?" was Zophar's question. In an earlier chapter Job confessed his own inability: "Behold, He passes by me, and I see Him not; He moves on, but I do not perceive Him." Since we cannot discover God, He must make Himself known to us. Revelation becomes a necessity. God reached the crowning point of that revelation when in Christ He made Himself known as Father.
One writer takes the two measures of verse 9 as pointing to God's plan in Christ. He also notes that Paul names the same four dimensions, but in reverse order.
This is the only place besides Ephesians 3 where Scripture names these four dimensions, so far as I know... "The measure ... longer than the earth" we believe refers to the counsel of God before time began, which will reach on to the new scene when time has ended. "Broader than the sea" would take in all things in heaven and all things on earth, headed up in Christ, and soon to be displayed in the world to come... Zophar speaks of the height, and depth, and length, and breadth. Paul, writing under divine inspiration, speaks of the breadth, and length, and depth and height. It is quite the other way round, for they were working from two different ends. Trying to reach what is spiritual through what is material is wasted labour.
In Zophar's mouth the question allowed one answer: no. The same writer says the answer is different now, because we do not search the way Zophar searched.
In that day, and to Zophar in particular, the answer is a word of two letters: NO... If Zophar came to us today and in his sarcastic manner said to us, "Can you by searching find out God?" are we going to say NO? Thank God we are not. We can find Him out; yes, we have found Him out... but we have not used the means Zophar attempted to use, or we should not know any more about God than he did.
(Davison quotes an older translation here. The ESV reads, "Can you find out the deep things of God?")
- Measure — The earth gives length, the sea gives breadth. Neither is long enough for God, whose plan runs from before time began to the world to come.
- Misuse — The words are excellent. The aim is wrong. What Zophar said of Job was just as true of Zophar.
- Necessity — No effort of will or intellect can win back the knowledge of God. So God must speak first.
- Reversal — Job 11 and Ephesians 3 name the same four dimensions, but from opposite ends. Reaching for what is spiritual through what is material is wasted labour.
- Answer — In Zophar's day the question met a no. Today it meets a yes, found by other means.
If he pass by, and shut up, and call to judgment, who can hinder him?
Zophar, the third of Job's visitors, now takes his turn, and he bases his case on the sheer power of God: no one can stop Him when He arrests a man and calls him to judgment. The question is not whether that is true, but what Zophar meant by aiming it at a suffering man.
Each of Job's friends has his own temper, and this one is the sharpest.
Then follows Zophar, in Job 11, who is the keenest of the three, and the least considerate. He charges him with moral blindness as well as mere bluster. He takes up the harsh thoughts of those who attacked, and gives no weight at all to Job's pleadings in his wretchedness. Instead he begins to hold that sad thought, which all of them come to express. Some grave and secret evil must lie underneath, and it must be the cause of Job's many and unmatched calamities.
Older translations word this verse in different ways: some read "cut off, and shut up, or gather together," others "pass by, and shut up, and call to judgment." Either way the picture is the same. God arrests a man and calls a trial. One writer grants the statement before showing where Zophar goes wrong.
Zophar continues to speak in verse 10, "If He passes by, and shuts up, and calls to judgment, who can hinder Him?" This is worth weighing. No one can thwart the judgment of God when it comes. Of course Zophar, in speaking this way, considered that God was judging Job, which was not the case.
Taken on its own, the sentence is sound. But look at what Zophar sets right beside it, and the drift becomes clear.
"If He cuts off, and shuts up, or gathers together, then who can hinder Him?" There is no doubt about His power, no limit to it. "For He knows vain men: He sees wickedness also." These are all insinuations against Job. "Will He not then consider it? For vain man would be wise, though man is born like a wild donkey's colt." Well, no doubt. That is man's condition now through the fall.
The same section of the speech carries a truth every reader has to accept, whatever Zophar did with it.
We can only bow to the truth that God is the searcher of hearts, and that nothing can escape His all-seeing eye.
Here is the danger the whole debate exposes: a true statement about God can be aimed at the wrong man.
Things which are true, but misunderstood and misapplied, may do more harm than many a thing that is false. Misapplied truth gives the apparent authority of God to an error, and that error carries all the more weight because it comes as the truth. People despise a foolish statement, or one plainly false; but no believer can treat the truth of God lightly. Suppose someone uses the truth of God wrongly. Suppose he applies it to crush a man who at that very moment is an object of intense interest to God. How foreign and offensive to His mind!
Where does the mistake begin? With a rule about suffering that leaves God no other reason for it.
What a man sows, he will also reap, and punishment for sin is certain, both judicially and divinely. But to limit God in His dealings with His children to that is to dishonour Him, and to miss the richest and choicest of His purposes... Job's friends were men of a very high standard of life. Yet they missed this important link in the chain of God's dealings with His servant, and so they became the cruellest and bitterest of foes. Why? Because they limited God's dealings to the punishment of sin. They missed the training, forward-moving character of the sufferings, so they could only conclude that such a great sufferer must have been a great sinner.
Zophar's words about God rise high, but they stop short. The gap between his God and the God of the New Testament is the gap between a dark mystery and a love to rejoice in.
It is a noble description of God, and we can hardly avoid the conviction that a man who could speak like this was not ignorant of the true God... But the Psalmist rejoices that he cannot drift beyond His love and care. In the New Testament we are overwhelmed, not by a dark and unsearchable mystery or an unappeasable avenger, but by "the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge."
- True. No one can thwart the judgment of God when it comes. His power has no limit, and He sees wickedness.
- Targeted. Zophar aims that truth at Job, assuming God was judging him — and that was not the case.
- Twisted. Misapplied truth does more harm than an open lie. It gives error the apparent authority of God.
- Too narrow. Limit God to punishing sin and you dishonour Him. You also miss the training purpose of suffering, so a great sufferer can only look like a great sinner.
- Too small. Zophar's God is unsearchable power. The New Testament shows more — "the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge."
For he knoweth vain men, and seeth wickedness when [man] doth not consider it;
Job 11:11 comes from Zophar's first speech, and what he says about God's sight is true — yet he aims it at a man God Himself had called righteous. The question is not whether God sees, but who has the right to say what He is seeing.
The three friends each argue the same case in a different key, and Zophar's key is the harshest.
Many have thought, and it is likely, that Zophar was the youngest of the three friends. He speaks last. His speech has the same general character as the other two, but it is more intense. He lacks the dignity of Eliphaz and the reasoning skill of Bildad. You could say he makes up in force what he lacks in reason, and this leads him into harshness and brutal rudeness, badly suited to soothe the sore spirit of the sufferer. Besides this, he fails, as the others do, to explain the dark riddle of Job's trouble. His theory that suffering comes from sins committed only pushes the already distracted man deeper into the darkness.
Taken on its own, the statement about God's sight is one nobody can argue with.
We can only bow to the truth that God is the searcher of hearts, and that nothing can escape His all-seeing eye. He knows the empty vanity of the natural man's heart. By birth that man is like a wild ass's colt. He must be born again if he is to know God truly.
Zophar's material was sound. The fault lay in where he pointed it, and in what he missed about Job.
Zophar says some things that are very excellent — properly applied... "For he knows worthless men; when he sees iniquity, will he not consider it?" All these are insinuations against Job... Since the fall, that is man's condition. Sometimes his acts can only be compared to those of a beast — uncontrollable, like a wild ass. Sometimes they are like those of a savage beast that consumes and destroys everything before it, like a lion or a bear... It was not a question of iniquity, but of God dealing with Job's satisfaction with himself. Job was a truly pious, God-fearing man, but he had a high idea of his own character. That is what no soul should ever allow.
Set the verse beside the one before it and Zophar's argument closes into a circle. No one can stop God when He judges. God sees wickedness. So Job's suffering must prove the wickedness. One writer, quoting an older translation that reads "deceitful men," traces the move:
Zophar continues to speak in verse 10: "If He passes by, and shuts up, and calls to judgment, who can hinder Him?" This is worth considering. No one can thwart the judgment of God when it comes. Of course, when Zophar spoke this way, he thought God was judging Job — which was not the case... So Zophar implied that Job was both deceitful and wicked. His proof was that God had looked at Job's state and was judging him for it.
The book has already told the reader what none of the friends knew. That is why the verdict Zophar builds on this verse fails from the start.
Zophar, like the other two, had been trying to persuade Job that God was dealing with him because of some secret sin. But we know from the start of this book that God had said Job was righteous. That is the opposite of this materialist's conclusion.
The words Zophar used as a weapon describe a condition he shared. What he missed about himself is what makes the verse useful today.
It is indeed true that man cannot by his searching find out God. It is just as true that sinful man is "vain," or "empty," or "senseless," and is born like "a wild ass's colt." Zophar clearly felt that Job needed to see these things. He had little sense of how they applied to himself. If the men of this twentieth century recognised them, it would puncture their inflated pride. They may find out means of destroying human lives by the hundred thousand, but they cannot find out God. He can only be found in Christ, who has revealed Him.
- Speaker — Zophar is the fiercest of the three friends. He makes up in force what he lacks in reason, and his roughness only deepens Job's pain.
- Truth — the words themselves stand. God searches hearts, nothing escapes His eye, and He knows the emptiness of the natural heart.
- Twist — Kelly notes the words are excellent when rightly applied. Here they are hints aimed at one man, whose real issue was not iniquity but self-satisfaction.
- Verdict — Zophar treats Job's suffering as proof of hidden wickedness. But the book has already recorded God's own opposite view of Job.
- Remedy — the emptiness the verse names belongs to all of us. No one can search God out. We find Him only in Christ, who has revealed Him.
Yet a senseless man will make bold, though man be born [like] the foal of a wild ass.
Zophar, one of Job's three friends, ends his first speech with a proverb about human nature. He says an empty man reaches for wisdom while being born as untamed as a wild donkey's colt — a saying true in itself, but fired at a sufferer it did not fit.
Older translations read the second half of the verse differently: "Vain man would be wise, though man be born like a wild donkey's colt." That is the wording most of the writers below comment on. Either way, the line is no calm remark about people in general. Zophar had one man in view, and he meant it to sting.
It is true that senseless men will assert themselves boldly, even though their nature is the same rebellion you see in a wild donkey's colt. But Zophar did not mean this as a general observation. He saw Job as a senseless man acting stubbornly, a man who did not recognise the greatness of God's glory.
Even so, the words themselves stand. One writer notes that the empty man's search for God really does fail, and that Zophar never saw how the words fit himself.
It is indeed true that man cannot find out God by searching. It is just as true that man, being sinful, is "vain," or "empty," or "senseless," and is born like "a wild donkey's colt." Zophar felt that Job needed to see these things, with little sense of how they applied to himself. If people today saw them, it would puncture their inflated pride. They may find ways to destroy human lives by the hundred thousand, but they cannot find out God. They find Him only in Christ, who has revealed Him.
Scripture does not use the donkey only as a picture of dullness. The animal also stands for self-will, which puts the verse beside the Bible's definition of sin.
In the Word of God the donkey is not only pictured as unclean. It is also the very synonym for self-will. Read the LORD's own account of this animal, where He reasons with His servant in Job 39:5-8. And what is sin? The Revised Version of 1 John 3:4 defines it correctly: "sin is lawlessness." In other words, sin is doing our own will and neglecting the will of God. Who can claim to be an exception? Who among us does not love to have his own way, whatever it costs?
Commentators accept the picture and reject the use Zophar made of it. The comparison to a beast is not exaggeration. It describes what man became through the fall.
"For vain man would be wise, though man be born like a wild donkey's colt." Well, no doubt. Through the fall, that is man's condition now. Sometimes his acts can only be compared to those of a beast — out of control, like a wild donkey. Sometimes they match a savage beast that devours and destroys everything in its path, like a lion or a bear. Man is capable of doing all these things. But Zophar's notion was all wrong.
Another writer aims the verse at people who object to God's mysteries.
What finite intelligence can grasp infinity? May we not then truly add, with Zophar, about those who object to divine mysteries because they seem to contradict human reason: "For vain man would be wise, though man be born like a wild donkey's colt"?
The problem starts at birth, so the cure must be a second birth.
We can only bow to the truth that God searches hearts, and that nothing can escape His all-seeing eye. He knows the empty vanity of the natural man's heart. By birth that man is like a wild donkey's colt, and he needs to be born again before he can have any true knowledge of God.
The same unclean animal appears in a law about firstborn animals, where a lamb could take its place.
A donkey is mentioned in the law of the firstborn. Its owner could redeem it by sacrificing a lamb, but if he would not redeem it, he had to break its neck. What a striking picture of man's need of redemption! Sin makes man unclean, and Job 11:12 compares him to the colt of a wild donkey. If no one redeems him, then his neck — that is, his stubborn resistance — must be broken.
- Born wild. The verse traces the trouble not to what a man does but to what he is from birth — untamed, unwilling to be bridled.
- Wild means self-willed. The donkey stands for lawlessness: doing our own will and ignoring God's.
- Wild cannot find God. An empty man searching on his own never reaches God. Christ has revealed Him, and there alone we find Him.
- Wild must be redeemed. A lamb died in place of the unclean colt, or its neck was broken. Only a new birth gives a man real knowledge of God.
- True words, wrong aim. Zophar said something accurate about man. He then fired it at the one man it least fitted. Commentators call the saying sound and the use of it wrong.
If thou prepare thy heart and stretch out thy hands toward him,
Zophar turns from God's greatness to a condition. Set your heart right, reach out to God, and everything will change. The words sound wise, and in part they are. But they rest on an assumption about Job that the commentators say was false.
Zophar's address moves through a fixed shape, and verse 13 opens its fourth movement. One writer lays out the outline: Job's flood of words rebuked (vv. 1-6), the greatness of God (vv. 7-9), all things open to Him (vv. 10-12), then this:
(4) The call to repent (vv. 13-15). (5) The peaceable results (vv. 16-20).
Everything Zophar has said about God's greatness now bends toward one purpose. He presses Job to repent as a guilty man. The same writer notes what that costs him:
Zophar spoils the dignity of what he had just said. He calls on Job to repent as an evildoer with a store of ill-gotten wealth in his tents. This complete lack of discernment stirs Job to anger. It shows up the shallow nature of the friends' theory.
One commentator weighs the advice apart from the man who gave it:
"If you prepare your heart, and stretch out your hands toward Him." Now that was excellent advice. That was just what Job did need — to wait on God until God gave him the answer as to how all this had come upon him. But Zophar's idea was all wrong.
(Kelly quotes an older translation, which reads both halves of the verse as conditions.)
The two actions in the verse are prayer and turning back. Zophar holds them out as Job's one way out of trouble:
Finally, Zophar urges supplication and repentance as the only door of escape for Job, but a sure opening into a bright and prosperous and secure life, if he would avoid the certain doom of the wicked.
The trouble is the sentence Zophar attaches next, about iniquity in the hand. He treats Job as a man clutching secret sins. But the commentators say Job's real problem lay somewhere else entirely:
"If iniquity is in your hand" — that was not what it was. It was not a question of iniquity, but of God dealing with Job's satisfaction with himself. Job was a truly godly, God-fearing man, but he had a high idea of his own character. That is what no soul should ever allow. It is completely wrong for a person to rest in himself, no matter how blameless he may be, and no matter how truly he waits on God day by day. There is no rest in any creature, least of all in ourselves.
So Zophar offered a real cure for an illness Job did not have. Another writer puts the failure in medical terms:
Zophar thought he was giving Job the remedy for his depressed condition. But his diagnosis was totally wrong, so his remedy was not what Job needed.
One commentator starts with Zophar's view of God. Then he asks what happens to a man who tries to prepare his heart and cannot:
These words have a strong flavour of law. They prove very clearly that Zophar had no right sense of God's character. He did not know God. God is not against us, but for us. He is not someone who demands, but someone who gives freely. Zophar says, "If you prepare your heart." But if not, what then? No doubt a man ought to prepare his heart, and if he were right he would. But then he is not right, and so when he sets about preparing his heart, he finds nothing there but evil. He finds himself completely powerless. What is he to do? Zophar cannot tell.
Another writer names this way of thinking, and turns it on the reader:
He can tell Job that if Job were not a sinner, then all would be most blessed with him. That is all that Zophar, or mere human light, can do. This is human religion. I must try not to be a sinner, and then I shall be happy, and God will not be against me. Still a hopeless effort — don't you find it so? You are a sinner. How then can you stand before a holy Judge? There is the difficulty.
One writer sums up where all three friends failed:
They did not know how to present God to Job; and, as a result, they did not know how to lead Job's conscience into the presence of God. Instead of leading him to self-judgment, they only fed a spirit of self-vindication. They did not bring God into the scene. They said some true things, but they did not have the truth.
- The counsel is good. Preparing the heart and reaching out to God is what Job needed. He had to wait until God answered him.
- The assumption is false. Zophar reads Job as an evildoer hiding stolen goods in his tents. That lack of discernment stirs Job to anger.
- The diagnosis misses. Job's problem was not sin in his hand but satisfaction with himself. Zophar aimed a real remedy at the wrong illness.
- The condition has no answer. "If you prepare your heart" — but what if a man tries and finds nothing there but evil, and himself powerless? Zophar cannot say. He never knew that God is not against us, but for us.
- True things are not the truth. The friends never brought God into the scene. So they fed Job's self-defence instead of leading his conscience into God's presence.
If thou put far away the iniquity which is in thy hand, and let not wrong dwell in thy tents;
Zophar tells Job what to do: clean your hands, clear your home, and your suffering will lift. The advice is sound. But he aims it at a man who has done nothing to deserve it. So what is good advice worth when it rests on a false charge?
Job's three visitors each argue from a different base. This verse is the clearest window into Zophar's. One writer sorts them by the ground each man stands on:
In short, Eliphaz went by personal experience. He said, "As I have seen, those who plow iniquity and sow trouble reap the same" (Job 4:8). Bildad is the voice of tradition and the authority of the past. He said, "Inquire, please, of bygone ages, and consider what the fathers have searched out" (Job 8:8). Zophar displayed law and religiousness. He said, "If iniquity is in your hand, put it far away … then you will lift up your face without blemish" (Job 11:14-15).
The instruction is not wrong. What is wrong is the picture of Job it takes for granted — a man with sin gripped in his fist, refusing to let go.
Zophar's closing words of counsel (verses 13-20) also have truth in them. One translation renders verse 14, "If you put far away the iniquity which is in your hand." That is, he again assumes, as the others do, that Job is an evil man after all, holding tight to his sins. Here he was wrong. His counsel to put away evil and turn to God was good, and his description of the happy result was correct enough.
If iniquity in the hand was never Job's problem, what was God dealing with? One writer names it:
"If iniquity is in your hand" — that was not what it was. It was not a question of iniquity, but of God dealing with Job's satisfaction with himself. Job was a truly devout, God-fearing man; but he had a high idea of his own character. That is what no soul should ever allow. It is completely wrong for a person to rest in himself. That holds no matter how blameless he may be, and no matter how truly he waits on God day by day. There is no rest in any creature, least of all in ourselves.
Zophar widens the charge from Job's hand to his tents. Now it is not a general call to repent. It is a claim about how Job got his wealth, and that is what breaks his patience.
But Zophar spoils the dignity of what he has just said. He calls on Job to repent as an evildoer with a store of ill-gotten wealth in his tents. This complete lack of discrimination stirs Job to anger. It exposes how shallow the friends' theory is.
The verse hangs on an "if". Zophar builds his whole speech that way: do this, and then that will follow. The "if" shows what he thinks God is like. It also collapses as soon as a man tries to meet it.
These words have a strong flavour of legality. They prove very clearly that Zophar had no right sense of God's character. He did not know God. No one with a true knowledge of God could speak of Him as opening His lips against a poor afflicted sinner. Nor could such a person say He demands anything from a needy, helpless creature. God is not against us, but for us, blessed be His Name for ever! He is not a stern collector of debts, but a generous giver. Then Zophar says, "If you prepare your heart." But if not, what then? A man ought to prepare his heart, but he is not right. So when he sets about preparing his heart, he finds nothing there but evil. He finds himself completely powerless. What is he to do? Zophar cannot tell.
The same writer draws the line that separates accurate statements from help:
They only darkened counsel with words without knowledge. Not one of the three friends understood Job. What is more, they did not know God's character or His purpose in dealing with His dear servant. … Instead of leading him to self-judgment, they only fed a spirit of self-defence. They did not bring God into the scene. They said some true things; but they did not have the truth.
- True things. Zophar's call to put evil away and turn to God is good advice. The fault is not in the words but in who he aims them at.
- True things, wrong man. He assumes Job is holding tight to his sins and storing wealth he gained wrongly. The assumption is false, and it pushes Job into self-defence instead of self-judgment.
- True things, wrong God. Zophar builds everything on "if you do this, then". That presents God as a stern collector of debts, not a generous giver. It leaves a helpless man with no answer.
- True things, wrong problem. God was not dealing with iniquity in Job's hand. He was dealing with Job's satisfaction with himself. No one, however blameless, may rest in himself.
- True things are not the truth. Statements can be accurate and still darken counsel. The test is whether they bring God into the scene.
Surely then shalt thou lift up thy face without spot, and thou shalt be stedfast and shalt not fear
Zophar ends his speech with a promise: get rid of the sin, and the shame and the fear go with it. Everything rests on that "if" — has Zophar judged Job rightly, and can any sufferer meet such a condition?
Each of Job's three friends argues from a different base. This verse is the mark of the third:
Eliphaz went on personal experience. He said, "As I have seen, those who plow iniquity and sow trouble reap the same" (Job 4:8). Bildad is the voice of tradition and the authority of the past. He said, "Inquire, please, of bygone ages, and consider what the fathers have searched out" (Job 8:8). Zophar showed law and religiousness. He said, "If iniquity is in your hand, put it far away … then you will lift up your face without blemish" (Job 11:14-15).
The promise hangs on a sin hidden in Job's hand. That was not Job's problem:
"If iniquity is in your hand" — that was not what it was. It was not a question of iniquity, but of God dealing with Job's satisfaction with himself. Job was a truly devout, God-fearing man; but he had a high idea of his own character. That is what no soul should ever allow. It is completely wrong for a person to rest in himself, no matter how blameless he may be, no matter how truly he may wait on God day by day. There is no rest in any creature, least of all in ourselves. It was One who was coming. And now there is One who has come. Zophar goes on to the end of the chapter in very proper language. But his thought was all wrong, because he assumed there was some great wickedness unseen and unknown. Why then did he assume it, if it was not seen and known?
The advice itself is not worthless. The fault lies in the man Zophar aimed it at:
Zophar's closing words of counsel (verses 13-20) also have truth in them. In verse 14 he again assumes, like the others, that Job is after all an evil man, holding tight to his sins. Here he was wrong, though his counsel to put away evil and turn to God was good, and his description of the happy result of doing so was correct enough.
A promise built on conditions shows what its speaker thinks God is like:
These words have a strong flavour of legality. They prove very clearly that Zophar had no right sense of the divine character. He did not know God. No one who truly knows God could speak of Him as opening His lips against a poor afflicted sinner. No one who knows Him could think of Him as demanding anything from a needy, helpless creature. God is not against us, but for us, blessed for ever be His Name! He is not a stern collector of debts, but a generous giver.
A face without blemish is what a guilty person needs and cannot produce. Zophar stops short at that point:
But he is not able to show Job how he can be a sinner and yet be justified. He can say that if Job were not a sinner, then all would be most blessed with him; and that is all that Zophar, or mere human light, can do. This is human religion. I must try not to be a sinner, and then I shall be happy, and God will not be against me. Still a hopeless effort — you find it so, don't you? You are a sinner. How then can you stand before a holy Judge? There is the difficulty.
Job did receive the honour Zophar held out, but by God's road, not Zophar's:
He paints everything in the rosiest colours, as if he knew what God would do for Job. The time did come when Job got richer blessings than those Zophar outlined. And Zophar's word that many would seek Job's favour came true when Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar had to humble themselves before this servant of God.
- Standpoint — Zophar speaks for law and religion. Clean hands first, then a face lifted without blemish.
- Misread — The "if" assumed hidden sin in Job's hand. The real issue was Job's satisfaction with himself, and no one can rest in himself.
- Sound advice, wrong address — Put away evil, turn to God, and the happy outcome follows. The error was aiming that word at a man who was not holding on to sin.
- Missing God — A God who demands and speaks against the sufferer is not the God who is for us. He is a generous giver, not a stern collector.
- Missing gospel — Zophar can say a righteous man would be blessed. He cannot say how a sinner is justified. In the end God gave Job richer blessing than Zophar promised, and his accusers had to bow.
For thou shalt forget misery; as waters that are passed away shalt thou remember it;
These words are a promise, not a fact: Zophar, the third of Job's friends, tells Job what life could look like if he admits hidden sin and turns from it. But is the promise true, and was Zophar the man to make it?
The bright words come at the end of a call to repent, and the call rests on guilt that Zophar never names.
He too believes that Job is a wicked man who has hidden iniquity, and that this must explain his affliction. So he turns preacher and calls on him to repent. Set your heart right, he tells Job; stretch out your hands towards Him. Put iniquity away, do not let iniquity stay in your tents! He talks as if he is very sure, more so than Eliphaz and Bildad, that Job is guilty of much sin. Then he draws a charming picture of the blessed results if Job confesses and repents. He would forget his misery "as waters that have passed away."
The picture is of floodwater that has already run past. One commentator ties the beauty of that picture to the emptiness of the charge behind it.
The ending is like singing songs to someone with a heavy heart. Zophar paints a beautiful outcome — one as imaginary as the sins he charged Job with. Job would then forget his present troubles, which would slip past him like flowing water. His darkness would turn to light. He would have safety and prosperity, and the men who had slandered him would bow before him.
Zophar offers a cure. The trouble is what he thinks he is curing.
He does not say what Job has been guilty of, but is sure he must be guilty of something… Zophar thought he was giving Job the remedy for his depressed condition, but his diagnosis was totally wrong and his remedy was therefore not what Job needed.
Zophar has no doubt what God's verdict on Job will be. That kind of certainty turns back on the person who holds it.
Zophar had not a doubt what the sentence would be. He had not learned that we should not judge, or we will be judged, and that our judgments really judge us. A sound and gracious judgment proves that we dwell in God, because we dwell in love and walk in the light. A harsh judgment shows, just as clearly, how far we are ruled by thoughts and feelings that come from nothing higher than self.
What Zophar described did eventually happen, but not because his theory was right.
He paints everything in the rosiest colours, as if he knew what God would do for Job. The time did come when Job got richer blessings than the ones Zophar described. And what Zophar said — "many shall make suit to you" in the older wording, that is, many would beg for Job's favour — did come true when Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar had to humble themselves before this Servant of God.
The restoration Job received came in an order Zophar's formula could not produce.
God blessed Job richly. He restored his fortunes and gave him twice as much as he had before. He did this when Job had prayed for his friends — and not till then… Yet God did not let that tide of blessing roll in on Job again until he had been deeply changed in spirit and character. At last Job was brought near to God. He then acted as a priest in a way that reflected the goodness and kindness of God, and everything outward changed.
- Diagnosis. Zophar assumes a hidden sin he cannot name, so his cure targets an illness Job does not have.
- Prescription. Put sin away, he says, and the misery drains off like floodwater that has passed. It is a lovely promise built on a false charge.
- Judgment. He is sure of God's verdict on another man. A harsh judgment measures the one who makes it.
- Reversal. His words about many seeking Job's favour did come true — when the three friends had to humble themselves before Job.
- Order. The blessing returned only after God had changed Job and Job had prayed for his friends. It was never payment for a formula.
And life shall arise brighter than noonday; though thou be enshrouded in darkness, thou shalt be as the morning,
Zophar ends his first speech with a picture of the future. Put away your sin, he tells Job, and your darkest days will shine like midday. That raises two questions. Is the promise true? And is Zophar offering it to the right man, for the right reason?
This verse sits in the closing part of Zophar's speech, where he paints the reward. One writer thinks little of that picture:
The conclusion is like singing songs to someone with a heavy heart. Zophar paints a beautiful outcome — as imaginary as the sins he charged Job with. He would then forget his present troubles, which would slip by him like passing waters. His darkness would be turned to light. He would have security and prosperity, and those who had slandered him would bow before him.
The picture is of a life rising, not just a life improving. An older translation brings that out more strongly. Where the ESV has the darkness becoming like the morning, it reads:
And the future shall rise brighter than noonday; you shall soar — you shall be as the morning.
Zophar never names a single sin. He assumes one is there, then prescribes a cure. This verse is the result he promises:
Zophar thought he was giving Job the remedy for his depressed condition. But his diagnosis was completely wrong, so his remedy was not what Job needed.
Zophar's counsel has real truth in it. The trouble is the charge hidden underneath it:
Zophar's final words of counsel (verses 13-20) also have truth in them. Verse 14 in the New Translation begins, "If you put far away the iniquity which is in your hand." That is, he again assumes, like the others, that Job is after all an evil man, holding tight to his sins. Here he was wrong. His counsel to put away evil and turn to God was still good, and his description of the happy result of doing so was correct enough.
Reduce this verse to a formula and you get a bargain: behave, and life turns bright. One writer names that bargain for what it is, and shows where it collapses:
He can tell that if Job were not a sinner, then things would be most blessed with him; and that is all that Zophar, or mere human light, can do. This is human religion. I must try not to be a sinner, and then I shall be happy, and God will not be against me. It is still a useless effort, isn't it? You are a sinner. How then can you stand before a holy Judge? There is the difficulty.
Zophar aimed his counsel at hidden sin. One writer says Job's real trouble lay somewhere else:
"If iniquity be in your hand" — that was not what it was. It was not a question of iniquity, but of God dealing with Job's satisfaction with himself. Job was a truly godly, God-fearing man; but he had a high idea of his own character. That is what no soul should ever allow.
The book does end with Job's darkness turning to light. But the order of events undoes Zophar's formula:
God blessed Job abundantly, turning his captivity and giving him twice as much as he had before. He did this when Job had prayed for his friends — and not till then… Yet God held back that tide of blessing. It came only after Job had been changed deep down, in spirit and character.
- Position. This verse is the payoff of Zophar's speech. It is the reward he promises if Job repents of sins Zophar cannot name.
- Picture. This is not mild relief. It is sunrise: trouble remembered like water already gone, life rising brighter than noonday.
- Prescription. The remedy sounds right, and the outcome is real. But the diagnosis behind it is wrong, so the counsel misses the man.
- Problem. Turn the verse into a rule and you get human religion: stop sinning and be happy. It leaves the real question untouched. How can a sinner stand before a holy Judge?
- Proof. Job's morning did come. But it came only after a deep change in him, and after he had prayed for the friends who accused him — God's route, not Zophar's.
And thou shalt have confidence, because there shall be hope; and having searched about [thee], thou shalt take rest in safety.
Zophar ends his speech by holding out a bright picture to Job: put your sin away, and life will come back — confidence, safety, quiet sleep. But was that promise true? And did it fit Job's case at all?
The security of verse 18 is not a free gift. It comes at the end of a list of conditions, and one writer tests those conditions against Job's real case.
Zophar thinks he has proved Job's guilt. He also thinks he has shown Job something of the greatness of God. So he urges Job to change his ways. He does not say what Job is guilty of, but he is sure Job must be guilty of something. "If you prepare your heart … if iniquity is in your hand, put it far away … Surely then you will lift up your face without blemish; you will be secure and will not fear" … Zophar thought he was giving Job the remedy for his depressed state. But his diagnosis was completely wrong, so his remedy was not what Job needed.
Zophar also reasons backwards. Job once had this very life, and he has it no longer. Zophar draws his conclusion from that change.
He would be secure and take rest in safety, he would lie down without fear, and many would seek his favour (vv.18-19). Before Job's deep trial, many had indeed sought Job's favour. Zophar thought that since this was no longer true, the only reason could be Job's falling into sin.
The picture is warm and generous. It is useless because it fits a man who does not exist — the guilty Job of Zophar's imagination.
The conclusion is like singing songs to someone with a heavy heart. Zophar paints a beautiful outcome — as imaginary as the sins he charged Job with.
The flaw is not in the words about hope and safety. It lies in the thinking behind them: blessing as payment owed for good behaviour.
Zophar replies, trying to convict him. He presses on Job that God "exacts of you less than your guilt deserves." If there were no iniquity, there would be present mercies. "You will lift up your face without blemish … and take your rest in security." Zophar makes man's acts the measure of God's dealings. He does not see that man is evil in himself, and therefore far from God, with no claim to any blessing.
Zophar's advice is still the most common religious advice in the world. It fails at the one point that matters.
He can say that if Job were not a sinner, then it would be most blessed for him. That is all that Zophar, or mere human light, can do. This is human religion. I must try not to be a sinner, and then I shall be happy, and God will not be against me. It is still a wasted effort. You find that, don't you? You are a sinner. How then can you stand before a holy Judge? There is the difficulty.
Zophar points Job to the wrong place. He tells Job to find steadiness in a clean record, but God was working on something else.
"If iniquity is in your hand" — that was not the issue. It was not a question of iniquity at all. God was dealing with Job's satisfaction with himself. Job was a truly devout, God-fearing man; but he had a high idea of his own character. That is what no soul ought ever to allow. It is altogether wrong for a person to rest in himself, no matter how spotless he may be, no matter how he may truly wait upon God day by day. There is no rest in any creature, least of all in ourselves.
Job could not reach the confidence his friends held out to him. One writer sets their offer beside the hope we have now.
His friends might hold out fresh, bright hopes if he would repent, turning night into day … But as for his own hope, the grave was his house, and his bed was spread in darkness … What a blessed contrast to such gloomy words from a believer is the strong encouragement we have! We have fled for refuge to take hold of the hope set before us. It is an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and it enters the inner place behind the curtain.
- The offer. Zophar promises hope, safety and quiet sleep. But it all waits at the end of a list of conditions, and he never names one sin Job committed.
- The false diagnosis. Zophar read Job's lost prosperity backwards as proof of hidden guilt. The diagnosis was wrong, so the remedy was not what Job needed.
- The false measure. Zophar makes man's acts the measure of God's dealings. He never sees that man in himself has no claim to any blessing.
- The false cure. "Try not to be a sinner, and then God will not be against me" is human religion. It collapses because you are a sinner.
- The real rest. No creature can give rest, least of all ourselves. The hope that holds is already set before us — an anchor of the soul, sure and steadfast.
Yea, thou shalt lie down, and none shall make thee afraid; and many shall seek thy favour.
Zophar has told Job to put away his sin, and here he paints the reward: quiet sleep and neighbours seeking his favour. The picture is lovely, but Zophar holds it out to a man whose suffering had nothing to do with hidden sin, so the promise rests on a charge that was never true.
This verse belongs to the closing part of Zophar's speech, where he describes the happy life he says repentance would bring. Set beside Job's real condition, that picture wounds more than it comforts:
The conclusion is like singing songs to someone who is heavy of heart. Zophar paints a beautiful outcome — as imaginary as the sins he charged Job with. Job would then forget his present troubles, which would slip past him like water flowing away. His darkness would turn to light. He would have security and prosperity, and those who had slandered him before would bow to him. Little did Zophar and his friend dream that they would have to come to this. The closing verse is a warning which Zophar no doubt applies to Job.
The strange thing about Zophar's closing lines is that nothing in them is false in itself. Turning to God and putting away evil really does lead to rest. The error lies in the assumption buried in verse 14 — that Job was gripping his sin and refusing to let go:
Zophar's final words of counsel (verses 13-20) also have truth in them. Verse 14 in the New Translation begins, "If you put far away the iniquity which is in your hand." So he again assumes, like the others, that Job is after all an evil man, holding tight to his sins. Here he was wrong. Yet his counsel to put away evil and turn to God was good, and his description of the happy result was correct enough.
So a right remedy can still be useless. Another writer notes that Zophar never names a single sin. Yet he builds his whole cure on the certainty that one exists:
He does not say what Job has been guilty of, but is sure he must be guilty of something… Zophar thought he was giving Job the remedy for his depressed condition, but his diagnosis was completely wrong. So his remedy was not what Job needed.
Why did Zophar reach for this particular image of many seeking Job's favour? Because it described the man Job used to be. Zophar looked at the crowds that once courted Job, saw them gone, and drew a straight line from the loss to sin:
He would be secure and take rest in safety, he would lie down without fear, and many would court his favour (vv.18-19). Before Job's deep trial, many indeed had sought Job's favour. Since this was not true now, Zophar thought the only reason could be Job's falling into sin.
The promise, in other words, is an accusation turned inside out.
There is an irony in this verse that only the end of the book uncovers. The very thing Zophar predicted did happen — and he was among the ones it happened to:
He paints everything in the rosiest colours, as if he knew what God would do for Job. The time did come when Job received richer blessings than those Zophar outlined. And what Zophar said — that many would court Job's favour, or entreat him — did come true. Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar had to humble themselves before this servant of God.
Behind Zophar's sunny forecast lies a settled verdict about another man's heart. One commentator shows what such judging costs the judge, and what it reveals about him:
He had not learned that we should not judge, or we will be judged. Our judgments really judge ourselves. If they are solid and gracious, they prove that we dwell in God, as dwelling in love and walking according to light. If they are harsh, they show in the same measure how far thoughts and feelings that rise no higher than self are ruling us.
- Position. The verse sits at the close of Zophar's speech — the reward he says waits for Job if he repents.
- Diagnosis. The counsel to turn to God and put away evil was sound. But the charge of hidden sin was false, so the remedy missed the man.
- Reasoning. Once many sought Job's favour; now none did. Zophar read that loss backwards and called it proof of sin.
- Reversal. The promise came true — but it was the three friends who had to humble themselves before Job.
- Warning. A hard verdict on another's heart judges the one who makes it. It shows whether love or self is at work in him.
But the eyes of the wicked shall fail, and [all] refuge shall vanish from them, and their hope [shall be] the breathing out of life.
Zophar ends his first speech with a threat dressed as a warning. The wicked man's eyes fail. Every escape route closes. His hope shrinks to one last breath. The words are true of the wicked as a class. But Zophar aims them at Job, whose case he never understood — and true words land badly in the wrong place.
The tone of this closing line matches the speaker.
Zophar was likely the youngest of the three men, and what he lacks in maturity he makes up for in bitter accusation against Job. He did not have Eliphaz's restraint or Bildad's skill in argument, and he does not hold back his bad temper. He did not appeal to what he had seen, as Eliphaz did, or to the traditions Bildad had learned. He appealed to his own intuition.
That confidence has a cause.
The fact is that a man who bases his argument on his own intuition is always very dogmatic and sure of himself. He has to be. It makes up for the lack of outside evidence that would back up his claims.
The three clauses of the verse describe a man whose sight, shelter and expectation all give out together. One rendering keeps the force of the final image — hope that amounts to nothing more than exhaling:
But the eyes of the wicked waste away, and refuge vanishes from them, and their hope is a breathing out of the soul.
Placed at the end of a list of promised blessings, the line works as an ultimatum:
Before Job's deep trial, many had indeed sought Job's favour. Since this was no longer true, Zophar thought the only reason could be that Job had fallen into sin. He implies this when he adds, "But the eyes of the wicked will fail; all way of escape will be lost to them, and their hope is to breathe their last." He is warning Job that if he does not take Zophar's advice he will not escape, but end in dreadful judgment.
Turn from evil and seek God, and things will go well — that much of Zophar's speech stands. The flaw sits underneath it, in an assumption he never proved.
Zophar's final words of counsel also have truth in them. Verse 14 begins, "If iniquity is in your hand, put it far away." That is, like the others, he again assumes that Job is after all an evil man, holding tight to his sins. Here he was wrong, though his counsel to put away evil and turn to God was good, and his description of the happy result of so doing was correct enough.
The problem with all three men ran deeper than tone.
They had no true grasp of God's character, so they could not understand His dealings with a soul. They had no proper sense of sin. So they did not know that if God is going to bless man, it must be wholly on the ground of grace. They did not know how to meet Job's case. They had said many true things, yet not one single right thing that fitted Job, because they did not understand him.
The problem was not that they lacked light; it was that they never noticed they lacked it.
Ignorance in a believer is not surprising. But it is sad when someone forgets the need of light from above and dares to judge anything before the time, before the Lord comes. He will bring the hidden things of darkness to light and make clear the purposes of hearts, and then each will have his praise from God.
When the book closes, the man Zophar threatened is the one whose prayer his accusers need.
The Lord restored Job's fortunes when he prayed for his friends, and gave him twice as much as he had before. The friends were only silenced. Job opens his mouth in full confession. So he wins forgiveness not only for himself but for them too, by praying for them.
As a general truth about the wicked, the words stand. Scripture sets a different expectation beside them.
For a wicked man death has a final word: he perishes. But after death, what? Hebrews 9:27 gives the solemn answer: after death comes judgment. So for the unjust, hope perishes too. Believers have a hope that is "a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul" (Heb. 6:19).
- Hope threatened. Zophar ends his speech by telling Job that a man who will not repent has nothing left to expect but his dying breath.
- Hope misjudged. The threat rests on intuition, not evidence — a self-confident man supplying certainty where proof is missing.
- Hope misapplied. The counsel to put away evil was sound; the assumption that Job was clinging to evil was false. The friends said many true things, but none of them fitted Job.
- Hope reversed. The friends ended in silence. Job confessed, prayed for them, and won forgiveness for them as well as himself.
- Hope secured. The wicked man's expectation does perish; the believer's hope is an anchor of the soul, sure and steadfast.
And Job answered and said,
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Truly ye are the people, and wisdom shall die with you!
Zophar has just spoken to Job with great certainty, as if he held wisdom Job lacked. Job answers with sarcasm so sharp that his words have outlasted the argument. Two questions follow: what made him speak this way, and was he right to?
Job's tone answers Zophar's tone. One writer traces the sarcasm back to Zophar's certainty:
Zophar's speech was full of extreme dogmatism, and that no doubt prompted Job to begin his reply on a very sarcastic note. His words, "No doubt you are the people, and wisdom will die with you," have almost passed into a proverb, used against the dogmatism of self-conceit.
Zophar had not simply disagreed with Job. He had claimed insight that Job did not have. The sarcasm aims straight at that claim:
Job's reply to Zophar was understandably sarcastic, "No doubt you are the people, and wisdom will die with you!" (v.2). Zophar had implied that he had an inborn wisdom that Job lacked. Job rightly reproved him: "But I have understanding as well as you; I am not inferior to you" (v.3). In fact, Zophar had said only what was common knowledge: everyone knew these things.
After the mockery of verse 2 comes a careful claim in verse 3. Job does not answer superiority with superiority:
Job answers in the next chapters (12-14) and no doubt he repays them too much in their own coin. Well, they deserved that rebuke. "But I have understanding as well as you." Here he was far more considerate than they were, because he did not take the place of being superior. "I have understanding as well as you" — "I am not inferior" — he does not say, "I am superior" — "I am not inferior to you."
The friends' speeches were not false. They were useless. They repeated the obvious to a man in agony:
It is astonishing to see how little discernment Job's friends showed at that time. But are we today more intelligent than they were? Do we not often judge before the time? Do God's children not often judge by appearances, despite the solemn warning, "Judge not, that you be not judged"? No wonder Job answers with biting irony, "No doubt you are the people, and wisdom will die with you!" What was the use of reciting truisms in flowery language? Such speeches brought neither comfort nor light to the sufferer.
Kelly says the same. The friends were "only talking platitudes, moral platitudes, that every person of the slightest acquaintance with God already knew." They "did not contribute one atom" to the real question: why a God-fearing man fell under such sorrow.
Commentators differ on how to weigh the words. Kelly holds that the friends deserved the rebuke, though Job paid them back too much. Another writer looks at what the pain had done to Job:
Stung 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 cherishing their unjust suspicions of him. He almost compares them to robbers, who hold their booty undisturbed (verses 1-6).
Writers have long turned the verse back on the reader. The danger is self-importance, and it shows in how we speak about other believers:
Let us note this principle well, for it is greatly needed in this day. Self-inflation — being taken up with our own faithfulness in testimony — breeds critical feelings in our hearts toward the people of God around us. It also puts us right out of the place of intercession with God for them. Need we be surprised, also, if our improper airs draw out from others the sarcastic remark, "No doubt you are the people, and wisdom will die with you" (Job 12:2)?
The answer is not to claim we know nothing. What light we have is a gift:
None of us can boast of being the people with whom wisdom shall die. Still, God in His grace was pleased to give us a little light. We should thank Him for every ray He has been willing to send into our souls. We should seek His grace to make good use of the light we have received. Only then will we be able to ask for more with confidence.
- Cause. Zophar's dogmatism provoked the sarcasm. He implied he held wisdom Job lacked, yet he said only what everyone knew.
- Claim. Job answers superiority with restraint. He says "not inferior," never "superior." The friends deserved the rebuke, though he paid them back too much.
- Emptiness. True platitudes brought the sufferer no comfort and no light. They added nothing to the real question of his suffering.
- Mirror. The words are now a proverb against self-conceit. Self-inflation breeds a critical spirit and stops us praying for the people we judge.
- Cure. No one owns wisdom. Receive every ray of light as grace, use it well, and then ask for more.
I also have understanding as well as you; I am not inferior to you; and who knoweth not such things as these?
Job has just listened to Zophar, who spoke as if wisdom belonged to him alone. Here Job's irony turns into a plain claim: he is not the ignorant man his friends assume, and nothing they said was new.
The verse answers one person in particular. Zophar had just finished speaking:
Job's reply to Zophar was sarcastic, and you can see why: "No doubt you are the people, and wisdom will die with you!" Zophar had implied that he had a natural wisdom Job lacked. Job was right to correct him: "But I have understanding as well as you; I am not inferior to you." In fact, Zophar had said only what was common knowledge: everyone knew these things.
The exact wording matters. Job could have matched their boasting and did not:
"But I have understanding as well as you." Here he was far more considerate than they were. He did not put himself in the higher place. "I have understanding as well as you" — "I am not inferior." He does not say, "I am superior." He says, "I am not inferior to you." "Who does not know such things as these?" They were only talking platitudes, moral platitudes, that anyone with the slightest knowledge of God already knew. They gave no light on the very difficult question. How could a devout, God-fearing man fall into such terrible sorrow and suffering? They did not add one atom to that question.
Job's complaint is not that the friends were wrong, but that they were obvious. He had already thought it all through:
What was the use of reciting truisms in flowery language? Such speeches brought neither comfort nor light to the sufferer. "Who does not know the same?" asks Job. He then shows that he had thought their questions over carefully long ago. He can develop them in all their variety — not in a one-sided way, as Zophar did.
The claim of equal understanding does not stand alone. It runs straight on into an accusation about the comfortable position his friends were speaking from:
The charges and platitudes of the friends sting Job. He meets them with bitter sarcasm, and then charges them with mocking him. They are at ease, while holding on to their unjust suspicions of him.
Job can speak about the greatness of God as well as any of them. That ability has a limit:
He too can speak well about the majesty of God in all His ways. But this cannot settle the question: how can a man who is a sinner be just before God? A man may speak well about the stars and the stones. He may have all the learning of this world. Yet he may still be unable to say clearly how God justifies the sinner.
The friends could not explain Job's suffering. Their failure did one thing they never intended:
They could not understand why such a perfect and upright man as Job should be tried so hard. So, after seven days of silence, their hints and false charges drove that patient man to cry out in bitterness of soul, "Miserable comforters are you all." They might have helped in an ordinary case. But here an outstandingly righteous man had lost every earthly possession in a way never seen before, and their tongues were dumb. They did not understand God's ways with His own at all. So they made Job feel how completely unable they were to help him, and threw him back on God Himself.
- Provocation. Zophar spoke as though wisdom were his alone. Job's sarcasm is the answer to that.
- Parity. Job claims only equality — "I am not inferior," never "I am superior." He refuses the very pride he is rebuking.
- Platitude. The friends offered common knowledge in fine language. It gave no light on why a God-fearing man was suffering.
- Powerlessness. A man may speak well about the majesty of God and still not be able to say how God justifies a sinner.
- Purpose. Their inability to help was not wasted: it threw Job back on God Himself.
I am to be one that is a derision to his friend, I who call upon +God, and whom he will answer a derision is the just upright [man].
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.
There is an order to Job's reply. It starts with how the friends' words landed on him.
Stung 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.
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.
You 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:
A mockery to his neighbours am I, / One calling on God, and He heard him: / The just, upright, one a mockery!
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.
Job 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.
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.
That 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.
Job's complaint goes deeper than the mockery. Their speeches were true in general and useless in particular.
They 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.
- 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?
He that is ready to stumble with the foot is a lamp despised in the thought of him that is at ease.
Job has been listening to three friends explain his ruin to him, and in chapter 12 he turns on them with sarcasm. Verse 5 is his sharpest look at human nature: comfort breeds contempt for the man whose feet are slipping.
Zophar had just spoken, and his certainty set Job's tone.
Zophar spoke with such extreme certainty that it no doubt prompted Job to begin his reply on a very sarcastic note. His words, "No doubt you are the people, and wisdom will die with you," have almost become a proverb, used against the man whose self-conceit makes him sure he is right. He claimed to have understanding equal to his friends. In verse 5 he reminded them that he stood in this slippery place, shining like a warning lamp, while men in easy and comfortable circumstances — his friends — despised him.
Older translations end the verse with "a lamp despised," and writers differ over what that lamp is. One reads it as Job himself: a light that once shone, now written off by comfortable men.
Job felt the sadness of it. His friends mocked and ridiculed him, though he was just and blameless (v.4). He had been a lamp, giving light. Now these friends, comfortably at ease, despised him in their thoughts. They were ready to put down those whose feet slip.
Another reads it as a lamp made useless: a shaking hand cannot hold a steady light.
They were all at ease, these three men. Nothing was the matter with them. They had not, like Job, been taken up by God, who then let the devil do all the evil he could. "He who is ready to slip with his feet" — that is what Job felt he was — "is like a lamp despised in the thought of the man who is at ease." Why? A lamp needs to be held steady. If a man is slipping with his feet, what good is his lamp? It waves about and sinks down into the mud. But they were all at ease, sitting in judgment on him.
The contempt sits in the mind of the man who is not suffering. One writer retells Job's complaint as if he spoke straight to his visitors.
You 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.
Their comfort had another side: quiet suspicion of him.
They are at ease, while nursing unjust suspicions of him. He almost compares them to robbers, who keep their loot undisturbed.
Contempt was not their only option. A friend owes a sufferer pity, and there is a reason for it.
Friends should show pity to a sufferer. That is a basic principle. Otherwise, under the stress of trial — as some have translated it — "he should forsake the fear of the Almighty." … But the hard principle these friends were applying knew no mercy and felt no sympathy. In his hour of desperate need they proved completely unfit to be friends. They are not the "brother born for adversity." … Yet he had asked nothing unreasonable of them — no money, no rescue from the enemy, only a little sympathy.
The danger in the verse belongs to whoever is safe right now. God notices those who add to the load of a man He is disciplining.
We deceive ourselves if we think we must be right when we grieve those whom God is disciplining. This is often very far from being the case. The Lord said in Zechariah, "I am very angry with the nations that are at ease; I was only a little angry, and they made the affliction worse." … We are more often, perhaps, in God's mind, and acting as living vessels of the Spirit, when we comfort such people. And I am sure it was so in Job's case. Had his former friends known God's way, they would have dealt very differently with him.
- Ease — The verse looks at the comfortable man, not the crushed one. Contempt sits in a mind that nothing has touched yet.
- Contempt — His friends were at ease, nursing unjust suspicions. Job almost calls them robbers who enjoy their loot in peace.
- The lamp — Writers read the picture two ways. Job is a light that once shone and is now despised — or a lamp is useless because the hand holding it slips.
- Pity — A sufferer needs sympathy, or the strain may drive him to give up the fear of the Almighty. Job asked for that alone and got none.
- Warning — Grieving someone God is disciplining is not proof you are right. God said He was angry with those at ease who made the affliction worse.
The tents of desolators are in peace, and they that provoke God are secure; into whose hand +God bringeth.
Job's friends keep telling him that God rewards the good and ruins the wicked. Here Job points at the world as it is, where violent men often go unpunished and live well. So what does prosperity actually prove? (Older translations read "the tabernacles of robbers prosper... into whose hand God bringeth abundantly." The writers below quote that wording.)
The friends worked from a fixed principle: reward here, ruin there. Job answers with a counter-example.
In verse 6 Job challenged the main position that his friends had taken. They said that God always rewards good people with prosperity in this life, and always brings disaster on the wicked. Job said it was not so. There were cases where robbers prospered and where those who provoked God were secure.
The word "secure" has an edge. Job's three visitors are comfortable men, and that comfort feeds their theory.
The charges and empty sayings of the friends sting Job. He answers with bitter sarcasm, and then charges them with mocking him. They are at ease, while they hold on to their unfair suspicions of him. He almost compares them to robbers, who keep their loot undisturbed (verses 1-6).
The line is not an abstract complaint. History already knew such a man.
There had been that great robber Nimrod. He first began to hunt beasts, and then to subdue men for his own purposes. God gave him no authority to do it. And yet God allowed it. Nimrod built great cities and became a great man. "The tents of robbers prosper, and those who provoke God are secure; into whose hand God brings abundantly." That is the present state of the earth. Any state of the earth since man fell is no adequate proof of what God thinks of people. It is not bringing out His judgment of men yet. God may deal with a particular case now and then. But that is an exception. His ordinary way is to leave things, to all appearance, to run their own course. And that is just why a judgment must come. Things have not been judged according to God, but they will be.
Job does not stop at human society. The same pattern runs through the animal world.
Job meets the theory that God repays everyone in this life with a direct denial and disproof. And this was not limited to man. Every form of living nature declares the same fact. The beasts of the earth, the birds of the air and the fish of the sea all show that the violent get the better of the weak. God is sovereign. For that very reason their law of government is a false argument, and to apply it to him is unjust.
Job is not the only one troubled by this. The riddle is not solved by collecting more facts.
Faith finds the answer to the painful riddle of human affairs in the secret of God. That answer does not come from studying facts. It does not come from long experience of God's apparent dealings as the Governor of the world. Power is His alone, and He is the only and the righteous God. Yet weigh events and the actual state of human society by the light of divine truth. Nothing is more constantly obvious than this: everywhere the world appears to reverse the known and eternal principles of divine government. "The tents of robbers prosper, and those who provoke God are secure" (Job 12:6). Evildoers go unpunished now. Truth is continually crushed, and its servants are often persecuted. In every age this has tested the faith and patience of God's saints (Jeremiah 12:1; Habakkuk 1:1-4).
Job knew a fact that Eliphaz's rule had no room for.
Job knew that the tents of robbers prosper and that those who provoke God are secure (Job 12:6). But Eliphaz thought that "in prosperity the destroyer shall come upon" the wicked (Job 15:21). What Eliphaz thought was sometimes right, but not always. The writer of Psalm 73 knew that, and we know it from what is all around us. God has allowed Satan to become the god and prince of this world. Satan has authority to dispose in some way of the kingdoms of this world (Luke 4:6). Once we realise this, we will not be perplexed at the prosperity of the wicked.
- Observation. Job states a plain fact: robbers live undisturbed, and men who provoke God feel safe. It answers the friends' rule that God always pays the good and punishes the wicked in this life.
- Challenge. God is sovereign, and for that very reason their rule of government is a false argument. Applying it is unjust.
- Witness. Beasts, birds and fish repeat the message: the violent get the better of the weak.
- Reason. The world since man fell is no measure of what God thinks of anyone. His occasional dealings are the exception, not the rule.
- Verdict. Things have not been judged according to God, so a judgment must come. Until then the riddle tests faith and patience, as Psalm 73, Jeremiah and Habakkuk show.
But ask now the beasts, and they shall teach thee; and the fowl of the heavens, and they shall tell thee;
Zophar has just lectured Job on the greatness of God. Job answers with sarcasm, and points him to the animals, the birds, the earth and the fish. The invitation to "ask the beasts" is no gentle nature meditation. It is an argument, and commentators read what the creatures teach in more than one way.
Job aims his appeal to the animal world straight at the friend who has just lectured him.
This is also in answer to Zophar's argument. Zophar had spoken of the greatness of God. The wisdom which Zophar had tried to impress upon him is so elementary that the beasts themselves know something about it.
One reading takes the animals as Job's evidence, and the evidence is grim.
"But ask now the beasts" — there is something triumphant here. "Why," he says, "the very beasts know more than you, and prove more than all your speeches!"… That is, the whole creation — God's lower creation on the earth — is a proof that things are not yet according to God. Do they not prey on one another? Do not the great swallow up the small? And is not man the one who deals death to beasts and birds and fish, and everything else, for his own pleasure? I do not mean only for food, but to please himself at all costs.
Commentators differ here. Others hear Job beating Zophar at his own subject. He calls the creatures as witnesses to the Creator's power.
He proceeds then, in verse 7, to show far more than Zophar did, the greatness and wisdom of God. He appeals to creation, the beasts, the birds, the earth, the fish as witnesses of the great variety of actions of power and greatness on the part of the Creator. "The hand of the Lord has done this" (v.9).
Both readings meet at the same place. The hand behind it all is God's, and Job presses that on the friends themselves.
In that hand of power, Job says, is the life of every living thing and the breath of all mankind — not only his own breath, but his three friends' breath too. He would not let them think of themselves as detached onlookers, free to judge others while no one judged them.
Some read this verse as a standing invitation to learn from the created world.
Nature itself, even more fully than the Old Testament, is an object lesson, a divine picture-writing, a teaching by type. It surely is. We may not yet hold the full key to it, but in every age its lessons have been taught and learnt — most simply, perhaps, in the earliest ages. As we grow older we lose the unsuspecting faith of childhood, which in many respects is the truest wisdom.
Asking the animals takes a person only so far.
The unbeliever may tell us that God is to be known in creation. Did anyone ever find Him out there? No doubt creation does prove the existence of a Creator. The first chapter of the letter to the Romans says: "For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse." Creation gives a testimony the nations were bound to receive. Had they received it, a higher light would certainly have shone on them. But they did not receive it. Instead they worshipped the things that were made, rather than the One who made them. Philosophers talk of rising from nature up to nature's God. But nature is a ruin, and man himself is a ruin inside that ruin. Instead of rising to nature's God, he makes a god of nature, and sinks below the level of a beast.
- Sarcasm. Job's opening move is sharp. What Zophar called deep wisdom about God is so basic that animals could teach it.
- Witnesses. Job calls beasts, birds, earth and fish into court. Commentators differ on the verdict. Some hear them proving that the world is not yet as God means it to be. Others hear them declaring the Creator's power.
- Hand. Both readings end in the same confession. This is God's doing, and He holds the breath of every creature — and every critic — in His hand.
- Book. The created world is God's second book — an object lesson whose lessons have been taught and learnt in every age.
- Limit. The creatures can convict, but they cannot introduce. They leave a person without excuse; they never, on their own, bring anyone to know God.
Or speak to the earth, and it shall teach thee; and the fishes of the sea shall declare unto thee.
Job is answering Zophar. Instead of arguing back point for point, he sends his friends to the animals, the birds, the ground and the sea to learn. That raises two questions. What do the creatures know that his friends do not? And can nature teach us about God on its own?
Job is answering a claim his friends had made about how God runs the world.
In verse 6 Job challenged the main position that his friends had taken. They said that God always rewards the godly with prosperity on earth, and brings disaster down on the wicked. He said it was not so. There were cases when robbers prospered, and men who provoked God were safe. As proof he pointed to what anyone can see in the lower creation — beasts, birds and fishes. He was pointing, we suppose, to the disorder that man's sin has brought in even there. The weaker meet disaster and destruction from the stronger, and all of this happens by God's permission.
The lesson the creatures give is not a comforting one.
The whole creation — the lower creation of God on the earth — is a proof that things are not yet according to God. Do they not prey on one another? Do not the great swallow up the small? And is not man the great dealer of death to beasts and birds and fishes, and everything else, for his own pleasure? I do not mean merely for food, but to please himself at all costs. In short, it is not merely what the Lord allows, but man makes it serve his lusts, his luxury, everything except God.
Job's confidence that the earth can teach a man is not poetic exaggeration.
Scripture being witness, however, nature does teach. "For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made." (Rom. 1:20.) "The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork." (Ps. 19:1.) The work must declare the Craftsman. And the Worker, we are assured, is He who is called the "Word of God" because He is the Revealer. (John 1:1-3.) So creation must be part of this revelation.
If the earth teaches, why not learn from it and leave the Bible aside? Because nature teaches in parables, and a parable does not settle doctrine.
Now, if this is true, as it surely is, the continuity of Nature and Revelation is assured. It does not mean, as one writer suggests, that the book of nature is the simpler to read, the surer to follow, and therefore the more authoritative. The opposite is true. For if nature teaches by parable, no parable is the first authority on doctrine. Its importance is still hard to exaggerate. But it leaves Scripture as the one place where God speaks to us "face to face."
Commentators differ on how well Job handles his own evidence. One writer sees a real danger in where Job's argument lands.
Creation — in earth and air and sea — will confirm him in witnessing that God is everywhere and does everything. His conclusion from this, however, leads him dangerously near charging God with being the author of evil. If he means only that God is all-powerful, everyone would agree at once. But the words that follow show his gloomy mind and distorted view dwelling on the dark side of nature. It is in this that his danger lies.
The disorder Job points to has a cause and an end. Man dragged the creatures down with him.
Man's sin has not only brought ruin on himself. It has spoiled his home and dragged down all the creatures that depend on him... God made man, unlike angels, the centre of a system of things. The whole of this lower creation either suffers or rejoices with its head. This is its time of suffering. "For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now" (Rom. 8:22)... When Christ comes, bringing with Him the whole glorified family of God, creation will be set free. Its bondage to corruption will give way to the freedom of the glory of the children of God.
- Ask. Job does not offer a better theory. He tells his friends to go and look: the ground and the sea are witnesses they never called.
- Hear. Their witness is that things are not yet as God intends. The strong devour the weak, and man kills for pleasure — all by God's permission.
- Learn. Creation is real revelation, because the Maker is the Revealer. His power and divine nature show in the things He made.
- Check. Nature teaches by parable, so it cannot settle doctrine alone. Scripture is where God speaks to us face to face.
- Wait. Job read the dark side alone and came close to blaming God. That same groaning creation is waiting to be set free with the children of God.
Who knoweth not in all these, that the hand of Jehovah hath wrought this?
Job has just heard Zophar lecture him on the greatness of God. He answers with sarcasm — the beasts already know what his friends call deep wisdom — and with a hard question: if God's hand has done all this, what does the state of the world say about Him?
Job's friends held a simple rule: God rewards the good with comfort and strikes the wicked with disaster. Job disputes the rule, and points to the animal world as his evidence.
In verse 6 Job challenged the main position his friends had taken. They said that God always rewards godly people with prosperity here on earth, and brings disaster down on the head of the wicked. Job held that it was not so. There were cases where robbers prospered and men who provoked God were left secure. As proof he pointed to what can be seen in the lower creation — beasts, birds and fishes. He meant, we suppose, the disorder that man's sin has brought in even there, so that the weaker meet disaster and destruction from the stronger — and all of this by God's permission.
Job's reply is aimed straight at Zophar.
This is also in answer to Zophar's argument. Zophar had spoken of the greatness of God. The wisdom which Zophar had tried to impress upon him is so elementary that the beasts themselves know something about it.
Job calls witnesses that cannot even speak.
The fish of the sea have practically no voice, and do not know how to talk — yet they too will declare it to you. That is, the whole creation — the lower creation of God upon the earth — is proof that things are not yet according to God. Do they not prey upon one another? Do not the great swallow up the small? And is not man the great dealer of death to beasts and birds and fishes, and everything, for his own pleasure? I do not mean merely for food, but to please himself at any cost. In short, it is not only what the Lord allows: man makes it serve his lusts, his luxury, everything except God. … "Who among all these does not know that the hand of the LORD has done this?" He cannot deny that the Lord has left it in this way.
One detail here is easy to miss: which name of God the verse uses.
Notice how "the Almighty" (how God had revealed Himself to the fathers) appears freely in the speeches of Job and his friends, as well as "God" as such. The writer uses "Jehovah" only when he is describing God, or introducing Him as speaking. The one exception is in Job 12:9.
The name is not just another word for God. It speaks of relationship, and it is the name used when God Himself speaks in the book.
You will notice that this name has not appeared after Job 2 (except in Job 12:9) in the historical part. But now, before the history itself closes, the book brings Him in again. We have Him speaking with His authority and in His relationship — that is exactly what "Jehovah" means. This is not God in the abstract, but God in relation to man on the earth.
Job is right that God's hand is behind everything. The danger is what he does next with that truth.
Creation — in earth and air and sea — will back him up as he witnesses that God is everywhere and does everything. The conclusion he draws from it, however, brings him dangerously near to charging God with being the author of evil. He would appeal to age and experience to confirm it. If he means only that God is all-powerful, everyone would agree at once. But the words that follow show that his gloomy mind and distorted view are dwelling on the dark side of nature. That is where his danger lies.
When God Himself answers, He asks Job about the same creation Job had called as his witness.
They are not so much a revelation of truth as a question to Job, asking whether he knows the truths that lie all around him in the vast creation of God. That is what makes these words of Jehovah so wonderful. He speaks, not "in a tongue no man can understand," but in the language of nature — about the earth, the sky, the clouds and rain, and beasts and birds.
- The taunt. Job answers Zophar's grand talk of God's greatness by sending him to the beasts. They already know what his friends called deep wisdom.
- The witness. Creation teaches what his friends refuse to hear. The strong devour the weak, the world is not yet as God means it to be, and so far God has left it that way.
- The name. One word lifts the verse: "the LORD." It is the only place that name appears in the whole debate, and it means God in relation to man on the earth.
- The drift. Job's starting point is sound, but his conclusion slides. Dwelling on the dark side of nature brings him near to blaming God for evil, and that is where his danger lies.
- The answer. God replies in the language of nature Job had appealed to. He asks whether Job understands the creation lying all around him.
In whose hand is the soul of every living thing, and the spirit of all flesh of man.
Job's friends insist that suffering always proves guilt. He answers by pointing to the animals, the earth and the sea. Every creature alive holds its life at God's disposal. Few verses say so plainly that life is not owned but only held. The harder question is whether Job says it in worship or in protest.
Job begins this argument back in verse 6.
In verse 6 Job challenged the main position that his friends had taken. They said that God always rewards godly people with prosperity here, and brings disaster on the wicked. He said this was not true. There were cases where robbers prospered, and where people who provoked God were safe. To prove it he pointed to what we can see in the lower creation — beasts, birds and fishes. He was pointing, we suppose, to the disorder that man's sin has brought in even there. The weaker meet disaster and destruction from the stronger, and God permits all of it.
Job tells his friends to ask the animals. What they show is a world not yet running the way God will have it.
"Why," he says, "the very beasts know more than you, and prove more than all your speeches!"… The whole creation — the lower creation of God upon the earth — is a proof that things are not yet according to God. Do they not prey on one another? Do not the great swallow up the small? And is not man the great bringer of death to beasts, birds and fishes, and to everything else, for his own pleasure?… "In whose hand is the soul of every living thing, and the breath of all mankind" — and yet He allows them to break forth in this lawless way.
Job uses two different Hebrew words in one line. Older translations show this by reading "soul" where the ESV reads "life."
Other passages in the Old Testament show us that soul and spirit were not confused. They were known and kept apart… Job also contrasts soul and spirit. The first belongs to every living thing. The second is found in man alone. He asks, "In whose hand is the soul (nephesh) of every living thing, and the breath (rooagh) of all mankind?"
If God holds animal life and human breath alike, what makes the human case different? Commentators trace it back to how man received life in the first place.
God did not only put the rest of the animal kingdom under man here below. Man alone also had his life direct from above. "The LORD God breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature." No other animal became a living soul in this way… This is why man alone stands in direct moral responsibility to God. He must give account for the things done in the body to the God who gave him his soul and spirit in this way.
(The older translation Kelly quotes reads "man became a living soul.")
The statement itself is true. But commentators note that Job is pressing it in a direction that begins to accuse the One who holds the breath.
Creation — in earth and air and sea — will confirm him in witnessing that God is everywhere and does everything. His conclusion from this, however, leads him dangerously near charging God with being the author of evil… If he means only that God is all-powerful, everyone would agree at once. But the words that follow show his gloomy mind and distorted vision are dwelling on the dark side of nature. It is in this that his danger lies.
Away from the debate, the verse tests an assumption most people live by.
Men delight in the thought that they are independent of God, but it is a delusion, they are not, for in Him we live and move and have our being. He is the faithful Creator, giving to all life and breath, and all things. His mercies preserve us. Every breath of our nostrils and every throb of our feeble hearts is by God's power and ordering.
Another writer turns the verse on the reader as a warning: "'And the God in whose hand your breath is'… 'Your breath' too is in His hand. The little string of life only has to break, and you pass from time into eternity." (W. T. P. Wolston)
- One hand. Job's whole case rests on one fact. Every creature's life and every person's breath sit in God's hand, not their own.
- Creation testifies. Ask the animals and the friends' tidy rule falls apart. The strong devour the weak, and God allows it. So suffering today is no proof of guilt.
- Two words. "Soul" covers every living thing. "Breath" belongs to mankind alone. Job marks the difference with two words.
- One responsibility. Man alone received life breathed from God. So man alone must give account to Him for what he does in the body.
- One warning. Job held this truth bitterly and came close to blaming God. Hold it humbly instead. Nobody lives a day free of the hand that holds the string of life.
Doth not the ear try words, as the palate tasteth food?
Job is answering friends who explain his suffering with confident theories. He replies with a proverb about testing: who decides whether words are true, and what happens when the taster himself is unwell?
The line pairs two senses. Later in the book another speaker quotes it back and calls his hearers to test what they hear for themselves:
Quoting Job's own words (Job 12:11), which seem to be in the form of a proverb, he reminds his hearers that the ear is the way words are received and tested, just as the mouth is for food. So let them go with him in his search into whether Job's charges are true or false. In the same way our Lord appealed to His hearers, "And why do you not judge for yourselves what is right?" and the apostle says, "I speak as to sensible people; judge for yourselves what I say."
In Job's mouth the saying is a retort. His friends have talked to him as if he could not weigh a word they said:
"Does not the ear test words?" — do you think I cannot hear? — "and the mouth taste its food?" — that I cannot discern with my own palate?
Job is not only claiming the ability to test. He also reports the result:
In verse 6 Job challenged the main position his friends had taken. They claimed God always rewards the godly with earthly prosperity and brings disaster on the wicked. He insisted it was not so. There were cases where robbers prospered and those who provoked God were secure. To prove this he pointed to what can be seen in the lower creation — beasts, birds and fishes. He meant, we suppose, the disorder that man's sin has brought even there, so that the weaker meet disaster and destruction from the stronger, and all of it by God's permission. Just as the mouth tastes food, so his ear had tested their words, and found them worthless.
The proverb assumes a healthy taster. Take that away and the method fails. One writer answers people who use this very verse to defend their own judgment:
Someone may reply that the ear tests words, as the mouth tastes food. I admit that in Job 12:11 the comparison is not only allowable but intended. But suppose the health of the judge is bad, and his taste is therefore spoiled. He may want food that is unwholesome, he may call bitter sweet, and sweet bitter; he may call evil good, and good evil. What then? Where is his ability to judge? He may turn to his neighbour to decide for him. But suppose everyone he knew was suffering from the same illness — then no one could help him in the slightest.
The same writer names the leading symptom of this sickness, then asks the question that settles everything:
One symptom of this sickness — and the leading one — is that the sick person is always absolutely sure his taste is excellent, and quite able to decide for himself between truth and error. No one can talk him out of it. But where is the standard of truth, by which we may judge what is put forward in this world of many voices? If we have no standard of truth to bring the opinions of men to, we must fall back on our taste. And if our taste is spoiled, our case is indeed hopeless, as far as our natural resources go.
One writer sees a danger in Job's reasoning here. Job appeals to creation and to the wisdom of age, but his own view of God is clouded:
Creation — in earth and air and sea — will back him up in witnessing that God is everywhere and does everything. His conclusion from this, however, brings him dangerously close to charging God with being the author of evil. He would appeal to age and experience to confirm it. If he simply means that God is almighty, everyone would agree at once. But the words that follow show that his gloomy mind and distorted vision are dwelling on the dark side of nature. That is where his danger lies (vv. 7-13).
- Ear. The verse is a proverb: the ear takes in and tests words the way the mouth takes in and tastes food.
- Test. Testing is expected of us. The Lord asked His hearers why they did not judge for themselves what is right, and the apostle told his readers to judge what he said.
- Verdict. Job had already done it. His friends said prosperity proves godliness. His ear tested that claim and found their words worthless.
- Palate. The comparison only holds if the taster is healthy. A spoiled palate calls bitter sweet and evil good, and a whole society can share the same illness.
- Standard. So taste alone cannot be the final court. Without a standard of truth outside ourselves, we fall back on a palate that may already be sick — and the sickest taster is the surest of himself.
With the aged is wisdom, and in length of days understanding.
Job is answering Zophar with an edge, telling his friends that they are the whole people and that wisdom will die with them. Then he grants the very proverb they leaned on — wisdom belongs to the aged — before setting it against something far greater.
One writer traces Job's sarcasm back to Zophar's certainty:
Zophar spoke with extreme dogmatism, and that no doubt prompted Job to begin his reply on a very sarcastic note. His words, "No doubt you are the people, and wisdom will die with you," have almost become a proverb, used against the dogmatism of self-conceit.
Job has just said that the ear tests words as the mouth tastes food. He claims the right to weigh what he hears, and this saying about age is one of the things he weighs:
God's hand of power holds the life of every living thing, Job says. It holds the breath of all mankind too — not only his own breath, but that of his three friends. He would not let them think of themselves as detached onlookers, free to judge others without being judged themselves. With his ears he tested their words, and he tasted what was fed to him, to discover whether it was palatable or not. So he sets Zophar's claimed wisdom aside by telling him: "Wisdom is with the aged, and understanding in length of days."
Job does not sneer at age. He gives the proverb its due, and one writer sees that as a mark of his fairness:
"Does not the ear test words?" — do you think I cannot hear? — "and the mouth taste its food?" — that I cannot use my palate? "Wisdom is with the aged." There again he shows how little he was inclined to condemn where there was wisdom. He allows that with the aged there is wisdom — "and in length of days understanding" — because there is experience that nothing else can give.
The very next verse moves the subject to God. In man, wisdom and strength pull apart; in God they do not:
"With Him is wisdom," he says. He turns to God; for, after all, a man profits only a little. "With Him is wisdom and strength" — while the aged man grows weaker as he grows wiser — "He has counsel and understanding."… "He leads counsellors away stripped, and makes the judges fools." No doubt those counsellors and judges were noted for their knowledge, and people took them for wise men too. But there is always a limit in this world, and there is often disappointment where you most rest.
Older translations read "the ancient" here. The word describes a stage of life, not an office:
The ancients in this verse are men of long experience. We must not think that these ancients are the same as the New Testament elders. An ancient in Israel was simply a wise old man with long experience. An elder in the New Testament is a brother in Christ who has the Holy Spirit living in him. Of course, an older believer today may not be as spiritually wise as a younger one. But the older one certainly has more experience. Wisdom in the sense of spiritual intelligence joined with spirituality is not always tied to age or long experience.
The book itself puts this saying under pressure. Elihu is a young man, and he holds back before men much older than himself:
No doubt it may often happen, as in the case of Job and his friends, that old men say very foolish things. Grey hairs and wisdom do not always go together. It often happens that aged men rely on the mere fact of their years and take a place for which they have no power at all — moral, intellectual, or spiritual… None of that touches the fine moral feeling in Elihu's opening words: "I am young, and you are very old; that is why I was afraid, and did not dare to show you my opinion." This is always right.
The practical use of the verse is not to arm one generation against the other:
It is folly and blindness to set young against old. Better to help the young profit from an experience of great value that they lack. Let the old admire the energy of the young, and let the young acknowledge the beauty of the grey head.
- Weigh it. Job tests words the way the mouth tastes food. This proverb is something he weighs, not a verdict he swallows whole.
- Grant it. He allows the truth in it, because long years bring an experience nothing else can give.
- Limit it. Human wisdom grows as strength fails. In God, wisdom and strength stay together, and He can make the reputed wise look foolish.
- Define it. "The aged" means men of long experience, not office-holders. Years alone do not guarantee spiritual understanding.
- Use it. Grey hairs and wisdom do not always travel together. Even so, the young should honour the grey head, not set themselves against it.
With him is wisdom and might; he hath counsel and understanding.
Job's friends have argued that his suffering proves his guilt. He answers by turning away from their reasoning and pointing to God Himself. He says that wisdom, strength, counsel and understanding all belong to God. Writers agree the words are true. They also say Job showed only one side of them.
His friends had spoken as men sure of their own insight. Job first turns their appeal to age and experience back on them.
With his ears he tested their words. He tasted what they fed him, to find out whether it was good or not (vv.10-11). So he sets Zophar's claim to wisdom aside by telling him that "wisdom is with aged men, and with length of days, understanding" (v.12).
The verse before grants that long life brings wisdom. This verse moves the subject to God, where wisdom and strength are held together. In a man, they never grow together.
"With God are wisdom," he says. He turns to God; for, after all, a man gains only a little. "With God are wisdom and might" — while an old man grows wiser, he grows weaker — "he has counsel and understanding."
The verses that follow show this wisdom and strength in action. What God pulls down stays down. What He shuts stays shut. Job says this without seeing that he is himself the broken man.
"If He breaks a thing down, it cannot be rebuilt" (v.14). In fact Job had been broken down, but he did not realise that the One who broke him down could also rebuild him, though Job could not do it. If God imprisons one, man cannot release him, though God can do so.
Job's next lines describe advisers and judges losing the very thing that makes them useful. These are the people a society leans on.
"He leads counsellors away plundered, and makes fools of the judges." That is, He strips counsellors of the value of their counsel. So man's wisdom comes to nothing, and the judges become foolish. Man's authority becomes as useless as his wisdom. Men that others counted dependable lose their speech and their power to help. Even elders known for their experience find their good sense taken away (vv.17-20).
These reversals break the theory Job's friends were pressing on him: what happens to a man now shows God's verdict on him.
There are all kinds of change. So there is nothing here that shows the settled judgment of God. Everything among men keeps flowing and changing. Nothing, then, could be more foolish than the basis of the three friends' attack on Job.
Job's teaching here is sound. His choice of evidence is not. He states the truth about God's wisdom and might, then illustrates it only from the side of ruin.
In verses 12-13 Job seems to have Bildad's statement in mind (8:8-9). He now declares that with God are wisdom and might; He has counsel and understanding. But what follows is only one side of God's doings. It is true in itself, yet it is the darkest pessimism, which suited his mind.
Faith holds the same facts and speaks in a different tone.
It is indeed a great but very dark picture of God's power. We can only shudder at the dreadful sight. Job's misery has cast a grim light over all God's greatness. How different is the language of faith: "God is our refuge and strength … therefore we will not fear … Be still, and know that I am God" (Ps. 46).
Admitting that God is wise and mighty does not settle Job's case. It turns him away from the debate and toward the One he cannot explain.
He did not claim to be better than his friends, but he was certainly not below them. Yet he admitted that God's ways puzzled him, being far above him and out of his sight. So, as verse 3 shows, what he wanted was to speak to the Almighty and reason with God, instead of spending his time reasoning with his friends.
- Wisdom moves — Job grants that age carries wisdom, then lifts the subject higher. With God, wisdom and strength go together. In man, they pull apart.
- Wisdom acts — God's counsel is not theory. He breaks down and it stays broken; He shuts and no one opens.
- Wisdom empties — counsellors lose the worth of their counsel. Judges become fools. Trusted men lose their speech. Man's wisdom and authority fail together.
- Wisdom overturns the argument — everything among men keeps shifting. So today's circumstances prove nothing about God's verdict. The friends' whole case falls.
- Wisdom needs faith's tone — Job's statement is true, but he paints it only in shadow. Faith sees the same greatness and finds refuge, not dread. It drives Job to reason with God rather than with men.
Behold, he breaketh down, and it is not built again; he shutteth up a man, and there is no opening.
Job answers his friend Zophar by piling up what God can do — tearing down, shutting in, holding back water and letting it loose. Every word of it is true. The question the commentators press is whether Job reads his own ruin by the right light.
Job's list runs from verse 14 down to the fall of kings and priests. One writer names what Job leaves out.
No one, however high their position, can escape Him. He breaks down, and ruin is the result. He shuts, and none can open; He withholds water and a drought follows, or He releases it only to overwhelm in a flood. This Almighty One holds them all up to contempt — judges, kings, princes and priests. Truly this is right, if they deserve it, but Job omits that side (verses 14-21).
Job says the ruined thing stays ruined. He was describing himself, and missing the other half of the truth.
Speaking of wisdom brings Job face to face with God, who is infinite in wisdom and strength. He has counsel and understanding beyond all that is human. "If He tears down, none can rebuild" (v.14). In fact Job had been broken down, but he did not realise that the One who broke him down could also rebuild him, though Job could not do it. If God imprisons someone, man cannot release him, though God can do so.
Job's facts are right; his use of them is not. Further on, at verse 22, he even describes what God was about to do for him.
If Job had taken time to consider the significance of these things, he might not have sunk so low in his miserable state. He sees the facts, but fails to apply their lessons in his own case. He says of God, "He uncovers deep things out of darkness, and brings the shadow of death to light" (v.22). Job was living through that pain of darkness. He himself could not uncover deep things from the darkness, or bring light out of the shadow of death. But he realised God can do this. Could He not do it in Job's case? Yes indeed, and He did so before long.
What makes these verses dangerous is not the doctrine but the mood behind it — and the danger is named directly.
If he simply means that God is all-powerful, everyone would agree at once, but the words that follow show that his gloomy mind and distorted vision are dwelling on the dark side of nature. It is in this that his danger lies (verses 7-13).
The same almighty power can be described in a completely different tone, and the contrast is drawn from the Psalms.
In the same way, the nations rise and fall at His word. It is indeed a great but very sombre picture of omnipotence. We can only shudder at the awful sight. Job's misery has cast a gloomy light over all God's greatness. How different is the language of faith: "God is our refuge and strength… therefore we will not fear… Be still, and know that I am God" (Psalm 46).
One writer reads verses 14 and 15 as a picture of the flood. There God carried out His word of judgment, and the waters flowed.
It was now for God to carry out His word of judgment: whether or not He caused His wind to blow, the waters flowed. It was not a question of His ordinary regulation according to the laws He impressed on creation. His word is final. Man must learn that He is, and that He punishes, even in this world where He sees fit, the wickedness that goes too far. He is long-suffering, but He gave a lesson this early to the ungodly which they can only forget or deny at their peril. "If he tears down, none can rebuild; if he shuts a man in, none can open. If he withholds the waters, they dry up; if he sends them out, they overwhelm the land."
Job's words about God were often right. The trouble lay deeper, in the man himself.
In Job we have an example of a strong and upright soul that does not understand grace, with a great deal of self-will. He knew he was not a hypocrite but was upright: God said so of him, and Job knew it. But there was a great deal of self-righteousness, self-satisfaction, and self-will. His piety made him attribute what came on him to God, and his pride made him rebel against it. It is very interesting to see the exercises of a soul in this state. Job said many right things about God, and he knew God would not treat him as his friends did.
- Broken. God tears down, and no human hand can put it back. As far as man is concerned, Job is right.
- Shut in. What God closes, man cannot open — but the God who imprisons is the one who can also release.
- Omitted. Job's picture of raw power leaves out two things: the justice behind it, and the rebuilding that follows.
- Misapplied. He sees the facts but never applies them to himself. He even says God brings light out of darkness, yet expects none for himself.
- Answered. Faith says the same truth in another tone: "God is our refuge and strength." Job's ruin was rebuilt before long.
Behold, he withholdeth the waters, and they dry up; and he sendeth them out, and they overturn the earth.
Job's three friends treat his suffering as proof of guilt. In reply he piles up examples of God's power over the world. Verse 15 gives two of them: drought and flood, both from the same hand.
The verse sits beside its twin in verse 14, where God breaks down and shuts up. One writer reads both together and notices something Job missed about his own case:
Speaking of wisdom brings Job face to face with God, who is infinite in wisdom and strength. He has counsel and understanding beyond anything human. "If He breaks a thing down, it cannot be rebuilt" (v.14). In fact Job had been broken down. He did not realise that the One who broke him down could also rebuild him, though Job could not do it. If God imprisons someone, man cannot release him, though God can. God could use waters as He saw fit. If He withheld the water the earth would dry up; if He sent a torrent of water this could cause an overwhelming flood (v.15). These two extremes have often followed one another. Men are helpless, and God does not explain why He does this.
The two halves of the verse are not the same disaster twice. They are opposite ruins, and both leave people with nothing. The writer follows an older translation, which ends "they overturn the earth" where the ESV has "they overwhelm the land":
"Behold, he withholds the waters, and they dry up" — and the world is in a terrible state when there is no water. But then it comes in another way. He gives them too much water: "also he sends them out, and they overturn the earth." The waters sweep everything away.
The second half of the verse is not just a remark about weather. One writer counts it among the Bible's witnesses to the flood that once covered the world:
This world-wide ruin is mentioned twice in the ancient book of Job (Job 12:15; Job 22:16). The Son of God Himself solemnly confirmed it during His ministry, and so did the Spirit of God in the letters of Peter and to the Hebrews. It is sheer foolhardiness to doubt the fact.
Another writer applies these words to the flood. His point is that God was not simply running the ordinary laws of creation:
It was for God now to carry out His word of judgment: whether or not He caused His wind to blow, the waters flowed. It was no question of His ordinary regulation according to the laws He impressed on creation. His word is paramount. Man must learn that He is, and that He punishes, even in this world where He sees fit, the iniquity that goes too far. He is long-suffering, but He gave this early lesson to the ungodly, which they can only forget or deny at their peril.
Job is not preaching a sermon on providence for its own sake. He is pulling apart the idea that circumstances show where a person stands with God. Verse 15 is one item in a long list of reversals, and the list makes a single point:
"He looses the bond of kings, and girds their loins with a girdle. He leads princes away spoiled, and overthrows the mighty... He increases the nations, and destroys them; he enlarges the nations, and narrows them again." There are all kinds of change. There is nothing, therefore, that shows the settled judgment of God. Everything among men keeps changing — a constant flow and change. So nothing could be more foolish than the basis of the three friends' attack on Job.
The argument is true as far as it goes. But a description of bare power is not a description of God, and one commentator marks the gap:
No one, however exalted, can escape Him. ... He withholds water and a drought follows, or He releases it only to overwhelm in a flood. All — judges, kings, princes and priests — are held up to contempt by this Almighty One. Truly this is right, if they deserve it, but Job omits that side (vv. 14-21).
- One hand. Drought and flood are opposite ruins from the same hand — He holds the waters back, and He lets them go.
- No override. What that hand breaks, no one rebuilds; whom He shuts in, no one releases. People stand helpless, and God gives no explanation.
- A real event. This ancient book records a real flood. God's word, not the ordinary running of nature, drove those waters.
- No verdict readable. Everything among men keeps changing. So circumstances never show God's settled judgment, and the friends' case against Job falls apart.
- The missing half. Job's account of God's power is true but unfinished. The One who breaks down can also rebuild, and when judgment falls on those who deserve it, it is right.
With him is strength and effectual knowledge; the deceived and the deceiver are his.
Job answers friends who claim to know why he suffers, and his reply lists example after example of God overturning human power. Verse 16 sits in the middle of that list: if both the fooled and the fooler belong to God, how far does His control reach?
Job turns from human wisdom to God's. One commentator follows that turn, and notes how little a man gains on his own.
"With Him is wisdom," he says. He turns to God; for, after all, it is only in a little measure that a man profits. "With Him is wisdom and strength" — while the old man grows wiser but weaker — "He has counsel and understanding." ... "With Him are strength and sound wisdom; the deceived and the deceiver are His." That is the present state. ... But there is always a limit in this world, and disappointment often comes where you rest most.
The verse pairs God's strength with sound wisdom, and it does not praise deception. It puts deceiver and victim alike under God's control. The verses after it show the same hand emptying human wisdom and authority.
God had strength and prudence; the deceived and the deceiver were both under His control (v.16). "He leads counsellors away plundered, and makes fools of the judges" — that is, He takes from counsellors the value of their counsel. So He brings man's wisdom to nothing, and the judges become foolish. Man's authority becomes as useless as his wisdom. He takes speech from men people counted dependable, and their power to help others. Even elders known for their experience will find their discernment taken away (vv.17-20).
That control reaches to the deceiver behind all deceivers. One commentator points to this very book to show where his power stops.
The power of deceit is really of the father of lies. But he only deceives men. He is altogether subject to the authority of God, as Satan himself knows and as the book of Job shows. Whatever he may design against God's children by way of perplexity, trial and great tribulation, he serves their exaltation according to the good pleasure of their God.
If nothing in human life stays fixed, no one's circumstances can prove what God has decided about him. That is where the friends' case collapses.
There are all kinds of change. So there is nothing that shows the settled judgment of God. Everything among men is in flux — a constant flow and change; and therefore nothing could be more foolish than the groundwork the three friends built on in their attack on Job.
What Job says about God is true. But he tells only the grim half of it.
In verses 12-13 Job seems to have Bildad's statement in mind (8:8-9), and he now declares that with God is wisdom and might; He has counsel and understanding. But what follows, while true in itself, is only the one side of God's doings, and the darkest pessimism — which suited his frame of mind.
Another writer sets Job's tone beside the tone of faith.
It is a great picture of God's almighty power, but a very dark one. We can only shudder at the dreadful sight. Job's misery has cast a grim light on all God's greatness. How different is the language of faith: "God is our refuge and strength ... therefore we will not fear ... Be still, and know that I am God" (Ps. 46).
Right knowledge about God helps a man only when he turns it on himself. That is where Job failed.
If Job had taken time to consider the meaning of these things, he might not have sunk so low in his miserable state. He sees the facts, but fails to apply their lessons to his own case.
- Control. The deceived and the deceiver alike belong to God — deception is never outside His hand.
- Limit. Even the father of lies stays under God's authority. What he designs against God's children ends up serving them.
- Collapse. God empties counsellors of their counsel, makes fools of judges, and takes discernment from elders. Human wisdom and authority run dry.
- Correction. Everything among men is in constant flux. So no one can read a person's standing with God from his circumstances. That is where the friends went wrong.
- Application. Job stated true things about God in the darkest possible tone, and never applied them to himself; faith takes the same God and says instead, "Be still, and know that I am God."
He leadeth counsellors away spoiled, and judges maketh he fools;
Job is answering Zophar. He turns from his friends' theories to a long description of what God does with the great men of the earth. It names the two groups the world leans on most: those who advise and those who decide. God empties both. What does Job mean by this, and has he told the whole truth?
The people named here were not nobodies. They held the posts a society trusts for a wise answer or a fair one.
Without doubt those counsellors and judges were known for their knowledge, and people took them to be wise as well. But there is always a limit in this world, and disappointment often comes at the point where you rest most.
What God takes from them is not their office. It is the thing that made the office worth anything.
"He leads counselors away stripped, and judges he makes fools" — that is, He takes from counsellors the value of their counsel. So man's wisdom comes to nothing, and the judges become foolish. Man's authority becomes as useless as his wisdom.
Job's friends worked from a fixed rule of God's government: He blesses the good and strikes down the wicked. So, they said, Job's ruin proved his guilt.
Job meets the theory that God repays everyone in this present life with a clear denial and disproof. … God is sovereign; but for that very reason their law of government is a false argument, and to apply it to Him is unjust. God does as He pleases, and among men above all He reverses all calculation.
Job does not deny God's wisdom. What baffles him is the way God uses it.
From verse 13 to the end of this chapter Job reviewed the ways of God in His dealings with men. He agreed that "wisdom and strength" belong to God, and "counsel and understanding" too. Yet he felt that the way God uses these wonderful qualities was full of mystery.
The problem is not that Job's picture is false. It is what he leaves out.
All — judges, kings, princes and priests — are held up to contempt by this Almighty One. Truly this is right, if they deserve it, but Job omits that side.
The result is a portrait of God drawn entirely in shadow, which matches the state Job was in.
It is a dreadful picture Job has drawn of God by the one-sided description of His greatness. Not a word of His love and mercy. It is in full keeping with his despairing heart.
Job could see the facts and still not turn them on himself. What God does to others, He could do for him.
If Job had stopped to weigh what these things mean, he might not have sunk so low in his misery. He sees the facts, but fails to apply their lessons in his own case. He says of God, "He uncovers deep things out of darkness, and brings the shadow of death to light" (v.22). Job himself was going through the pain of darkness. He could not uncover deep things from the darkness, or bring light from the shadow of death. But he realised God can do this. Could He not do it in Job's case? Yes indeed, and He did so before long.
Where Job's words grow bleak, faith has other language for the same almighty God.
How different is the language of faith: "God is our refuge and strength … therefore we will not fear … Be still, and know that I am God" (Ps. 46).
- Stripped — God takes from trusted advisers the worth of their advice. Their wisdom comes to nothing, and their authority becomes just as useless.
- Limited — this world always has a limit. Disappointment often comes at the very point where you rest most.
- Unpredictable — God reverses all human calculation. That breaks the friends' rule that suffering always proves guilt.
- Half-told — Job's words are true, but he leaves out the other side. Not a word of God's love and mercy — a picture that matches his despairing heart.
- Unapplied — Job saw the facts and missed the lesson. The God who brings deep things out of darkness could do it for him, and soon did.
He weakeneth the government of kings, and bindeth their loins with a fetter;
Job is replying to friends who insist that suffering always proves guilt. He points to a God who unties kings from their power and then binds them like prisoners — so what can anyone prove from a person's circumstances?
The three friends read God's verdict off a man's circumstances. One commentator shows how the changes in Job's list ruin that method:
There are all kinds of change. There is nothing, therefore, that shows the settled judgment of God. Everything among people is in constant flow and change. So nothing could be more foolish than the ground the three friends stand on in their attack on Job.
The two halves of the verse are one event. God unties a king's rule, then ties a belt on the king himself. Kelly's own rendering sets that belt beside the same image a few lines later:
The bond of kings He looses, and binds a belt around their waist... He pours contempt upon princes, and looses the belt of the mighty.
Job has just outdone the speech of Zophar, one of his three friends. Commentators do not question the truth of his words, but the mood behind them:
Job goes beyond Zophar's speech at every point. He is ahead in the argument... But what follows is true in itself, yet it is only one side of what God does. It is the darkest pessimism, the kind that suited his mind. God strips counsellors bare and makes judges fools. He looses the bonds of kings and leads priests away as plunder. He overthrows the mighty and pours contempt on princes. He increases the nations and destroys them.
The side Job passes over is whether these humbled rulers deserved it:
None, no matter how exalted, can escape Him. He breaks down, and ruin is the result. He shuts, and none can open... This Almighty One holds them all up to contempt — judges, kings, princes and priests. That is right, of course, where they deserve it. But Job leaves that side out.
Job's suffering colours how he sees God's greatness. Faith looks at the same power and answers without fear:
In the same way, the nations rise and fall at His word. It is a great picture of unlimited power, but the darkest one possible. We can only shudder at the awful sight. Job's misery has cast a gloomy light over all God's greatness. How different is the language of faith: "God is our refuge and strength… therefore we will not fear… Be still, and know that I am God" (Ps. 46).
Daniel saw God take down one royal line and raise up another. His response was to bless God:
He was living in a time when God had been changing "the times and the seasons." God was also removing kings and setting up kings, showing that wisdom and might are His. Removing the kings of David's line and setting up Nebuchadnezzar had been acts of God. Daniel bowed to this and even blessed God as he acknowledged it.
Jehoiachin was a young king of Judah carried off to Babylon. One writer traces what became of him there:
The Babylonian captivity dates from Jehoiachin's reign. He never returned from his captivity. There he spent thirty-six years in prison until the death of Nebuchadnezzar... His son Evil-merodach succeeded him on the throne. His own father had once shut this son up in prison, where he probably got to know the royal Hebrew captive. He was not like the ungrateful cupbearer who, once out of prison, "forgot Joseph"; he remembered his old prison companion.
- Change. God unties kings from power and binds them as captives. So no one can read God's verdict off a person's circumstances.
- Collapse. That destroys the friends' rule that suffering proves sin. It was the whole ground of their attack on Job.
- Half-told. Job's words are true, but he tells only one side. He never adds that God is right to humble rulers who deserve it.
- Mood. The same power that looks terrifying through Job's misery is what faith calls refuge: "Be still, and know that I am God."
- Blessed. Daniel watched God remove kings and set up kings, and he blessed God for it. Job shudders at that same power; Daniel worships.
He leadeth priests away spoiled, and overthroweth the mighty;
Job is answering his friend Zophar, and he out-does him with a long list of what God does to people in power. Verse 19 sits in that list, where even priests lose everything — so the chapter asks whether describing God's power is the same as knowing Him.
The chapter moves from sarcasm against the friends to a survey of what God does with human power. One writer sums up this stretch, where not even priests escape, and marks what Job leaves out:
No one, however high their position, can escape Him. He breaks down, and ruin is the result. He shuts, and no one can open; He withholds water and a drought follows, or releases it only to overwhelm in a flood. This Almighty One holds them all up to contempt — judges, kings, princes and priests. Truly this is right, if they deserve it, but Job leaves out that side.
These verses name the people a society leans on: advisers, judges, trusted speakers, elders. God empties each role of the thing that makes it valuable:
He deprives counsellors of the value of their counsel. So man's wisdom comes to nothing, and the judges become foolish. Man's authority becomes as useless as his wisdom. People everyone counted on lose their speech and their power to help others. Even elders known for their experience find their discernment taken away.
The same writer sees God disarming the strong, then turns the point back on Job:
The powerful He disarms, taking their power from them. If Job had taken time to consider what these things mean, he might not have sunk so low in his misery. He sees the facts, but fails to apply their lessons to his own case.
Job answers his friends by showing that nothing in human life stays put long enough to serve as a verdict:
"He leads princes away stripped, and overthrows the mighty. He pours contempt on princes, and weakens the strength of the mighty." There are all kinds of change. There is nothing, then, that shows the settled judgment of God. Everything among men is in flux — a constant flow and change. So nothing could be more foolish than the foundation the three friends built on in their attack on Job.
Older translations read "princes" here, where the ESV reads "priests."
Another writer names the teaching the friends were built on:
They push the teaching that God's government of the earth is a full measure and display of His righteousness — and of the righteousness in man that would match it. That teaching shows total ignorance of what God's righteousness is, and of His ways.
Job is not wrong about the facts. One writer weighs how he uses them:
Job outstrips Zophar's speech in every way. He is ahead in the argument… he now declares that wisdom and might are with God; He has counsel and understanding. What follows is true in itself. But it is only one side of what God does, and the darkest pessimism, which suited his frame of mind. God spoils counsellors and makes judges fools. He loosens the bonds of kings, leads priests away stripped, and overthrows the mighty. He pours contempt on princes; He increases the nations and destroys them.
Ridout weighs the mood of Job's picture against the mood of a psalm:
It is indeed a great but very sombre picture of omnipotence. We can only shudder at the awful sight. Job's misery has cast a gloomy light upon all God's greatness. How different is the language of faith: "God is our refuge and strength… therefore we will not fear… Be still, and know that I am God" (Ps. 46).
- Stripped. Job names priests, counsellors, judges, elders and the mighty. God empties each one of what made it useful — wisdom, authority, speech, discernment, strength.
- Unsettled. Everything among men keeps changing, so no one's rise or fall proves God's settled verdict on them.
- Refuted. That constant change destroys the friends' foundation. They taught that God's rule on earth fully displays His righteousness.
- One-sided. Job's words are true in themselves, but they give only one side of what God does, and he tells it in the darkest pessimism.
- Unapplied. He sees the facts and misses the lesson for himself; faith looks at the same power and says, "God is our refuge and strength."
He depriveth of speech the trusty, and taketh away the judgment of the elders;
Answering his friend Zophar, Job lists what God does to the people everyone else leans on — kings, judges, priests, princes. Here the loss falls on speech and judgment: is Job telling plain truth about God, or has grief left him seeing only half the picture?
The verse names two kinds of respected people: those others rely on for advice, and elders whose long experience earned them a hearing. One writer traces what God removes from each.
God takes from counsellors the value of their counsel. So man's wisdom comes to nothing, and the judges become foolish. Man's authority becomes as useless as his wisdom. People who were thought dependable lose their speech and their power to help others. Even elders known for their experience find their discernment taken away.
Job is not just describing God's power. He is arguing. If God keeps overturning the great, then no one's present position shows God's settled verdict — and that is what his three friends had built their case on.
There are all kinds of change. There is nothing therefore that shows the settled judgment of God. Everything among men is in a state of flux — a constant flow and change. So nothing could be more foolish than the ground the three friends stood on in their attack on Job… And that is what happens where people trust in men.
These were the recognised experts of their day — the people you would naturally ask. That is what makes their failure worth noticing.
No doubt those counsellors and judges were people well known for their knowledge, and assumed to be wise as well. But there is always a limit in this world, and disappointment often comes at the point where you lean hardest.
Commentators are careful here. What Job says is accurate, yet his suffering has narrowed what he is willing to see.
Job outdoes Zophar's speech in every way. He is ahead in the argument… he now declares that with God are wisdom and might; He has counsel and understanding. But what follows, though true in itself, is only one side of what God does. It is the darkest pessimism, and it suited the state of his mind.
The missing half is any hint that those brought low might deserve it.
No one, however high, can escape Him. He breaks down, and ruin is the result. He shuts, and no one can open… This Almighty One holds them all up to contempt — judges, kings, princes and priests. This is right, if they deserve it, but Job leaves that side out.
Described this way, God's power is overwhelming but offers nothing to hold on to. Faith speaks of the same God in a very different tone.
It is indeed a great picture of God's power, but a very dark one. We can only shudder at the awful sight. Job's misery has cast a grim light over all God's greatness. How different is the language of faith: "God is our refuge and strength… therefore we will not fear… Be still, and know that I am God" (Ps. 46).
Job says that God uncovers what is hidden in the dark. He does not see that he himself is the case in point.
In fact, Job was going through the pains of darkness himself. He could not uncover deep things out of the darkness, nor bring light from the shadow of death, but he realised God can do this. Could He not do it in Job's case? Yes indeed, and He did so before long.
- Removed. God takes the counsellor's voice and the elder's judgment — the very things that made them worth asking.
- Reversed. Everything among men is in constant flux, so no one's present standing proves God's settled verdict on them.
- Relied on. Human ability always has a limit. Disappointment comes where you leaned hardest.
- Restricted. Job's words are true, yet he tells only the dark half — he never allows that those brought low might deserve it.
- Restored. The God who uncovers deep things out of darkness did that for Job in the end. Faith calls that same power a refuge, where Job could only shudder at it.
He poureth contempt upon nobles, and slackeneth the girdle of the mighty;
Job answers his friends by listing what God does to the great ones of the earth — counsellors, judges, kings, priests, and now princes. The picture is true, but commentators ask two things: is it the whole truth, and does Job ever apply it to himself?
The verse names two targets: those who hold dignity, and those who hold power. One writer takes them in turn, and notes that what happens to each is the reverse of what they would expect.
"He pours contempt on princes, and disdains the mighty" (v.21). To princes (those in the place of dignity) God sees fit to show contempt, so contrary to what they might expect. The powerful He disarms, taking their power from them. If Job had stopped to think about what these things mean, he might not have sunk so low in his misery. He sees the facts, but fails to apply their lessons in his own case.
To loosen a strong man's belt is to disarm him. Older translations render the line "disdains the mighty."
Job's list has a point. His friends read God's verdict on a man from his circumstances. If God keeps reversing the standing of the great, that reasoning has no floor under it.
There are all kinds of change. There is nothing therefore that shows the settled judgment of God. Everything among men is in flux — a constant flow and change. So nothing could be more foolish than the basis of the three friends' attack on Job… And that is what happens where people trust in men.
Princes are not stripped at random. One commentator grants the facts and then points at the gap in Job's account of them.
None, no matter how exalted, can escape Him. He breaks down, and ruin is the result. He shuts, and none can open… This Almighty One holds them all up to contempt — judges, kings, princes and priests. This is right, if they deserve it, but Job leaves that side out (vers. 14-21).
Another writer traces the gloom to Job's own state of mind.
What follows is true in itself. But it is only one side of what God does, and the darkest pessimism — which suited his state of mind. God strips counsellors and makes judges fools. He loosens the bonds of kings, leads priests away plundered, overthrows the mighty, and pours contempt on princes. He increases the nations and destroys them.
Pouring contempt on princes is not only loss. The same act that brings a prince down lifts the oppressed up.
God takes up the cause of the oppressed. He pours contempt on princes, and sets the needy one "on high from affliction."
This is not poetry about the past. God still brings rulers down, and He can do it in a night.
Kings may be powerful, mighty and strong. They boast in their strength, their armies and their wealth. But God can remove a king overnight and replace him with another, as He did in Daniel 5:30-31. Oh, how small man is in the presence of God! What power He has! We see in the Bible and in history how boastful man is. He sets himself up in all his arrogance and pride, saying he will do this and that. But God changes it overnight.
Commentators agree that Job's facts are right. They differ with him on the mood. A believer can speak of the same almighty power in a completely different key.
It really is a great picture of God's almighty power, but a very gloomy one. We can only shudder at the dreadful sight. Job's misery has cast a grim light over all God's greatness. How different is the language of faith: "God is our refuge and strength… therefore will we not fear… Be still, and know that I am God" (Ps. 46).
- Disarmed. God strips dignity and takes away power. Princes get contempt, the strong lose their belt, and neither expected it.
- Unsettled. Human standing never stops changing. So a man's present fortune shows nothing of God's settled verdict on him. That destroys the friends' case against Job.
- Overnight. History repeats the verse: God can remove a ruler in a night and set up another, and man is small before Him.
- One-sided. Job states the facts but leaves out the moral side. The stripping is right when they deserve it. Leave that out, and true words come out as pure gloom.
- Refuge. The same power that pours contempt on princes lifts the needy out of affliction. Faith meets it not with a shudder but with "God is our refuge and strength."
He discovereth deep things out of darkness, and bringeth out into light the shadow of death;
Job is answering Zophar, listing what God does to rulers, nations and the wise. Then he says God drags into daylight what darkness had swallowed — but does he see that this applies to himself?
Job aims this list of reversals at the theory his three friends keep repeating. One writer reads the whole run of verses as a picture of constant upheaval. That knocks the ground out from under their case.
There are all kinds of change. There is nothing, then, that shows the settled judgment of God. Everything among men is in a state of flux — a constant flow and change. So nothing could be more foolish than the foundation the three friends built on in their attack on Job.
Job had just watched God strip the powerful of their dignity. The same God also lifts the cover off hidden things. One commentator notes the irony: what Job describes was the very thing he needed for himself. Older translations render "deep darkness" here as "the shadow of death."
Job was experiencing the pangs of darkness. He himself could not uncover deep things from the darkness, nor bring light from the shadow of death. But he realised God can do this. Could He not do it in Job's case? Yes indeed, and He did so before long.
Everything Job says here is true, yet his suffering has coloured how he says it. Set beside a settled word of faith, the difference in tone is obvious.
It is indeed a great but very sombre picture of omnipotence. We can only shudder at the awful sight. Job's misery has thrown a gloomy light over all God's greatness. How different is the language of faith: "God is our refuge and strength... therefore we will not fear... Be still, and know that I am God" (Ps. 46).
The same writer traces where that gloom leads. Job's survey of God's power over judges, kings, princes and priests leaves something out.
All — judges, kings, princes and priests — are held up to contempt by this Almighty One. Truly this is right, if they deserve it, but Job omits that side (vers. 14-21).
If God can pull secrets out of the dark, no one can predict Him from the outside. That is the deeper reason the friends' system fails. One writer puts it as a principle about God Himself.
No doubt experience has its place. Each of us has his own measure of discernment, and that should grow with the years. But no law binds God: none can be discovered, and none could even exist. In Him alone is perfect wisdom and power in providence. He has stamped laws on everything above our eyes, below our feet, and around us. But the highest and truest law of all — if we should call it a law — is that God is free, not bound, to act. He acts as and when He will.
What Job says about God is not limited to nations and kings. It reaches every human secret.
Man can keep nothing secret, though it may seem so, and he can conceal nothing. Everything must come into the light. God must have the upper hand, and light shall prevail.
And the exposure runs both ways. Good comes out of hiding as surely as evil does.
Good and evil will alike come forth from their present obscurity. God will then sift the doubtful motives of this life and appraise them with righteousness... All secret acts of goodness will also come to view at last. Words and works that were meant only for the ear and eye of God — God will then own them, with open praise.
- Darkness — Job argues that human affairs are in constant flux. Nothing in them shows God's settled judgment, so his friends' attack has no foundation.
- God alone — The uncovering is God's work, not man's. Job could not pull his own case out of the dark; he could only say that God can.
- Blind spot — He states the truth but never turns it on himself. One writer points out that God did this very thing for him before long.
- Freedom — No law binds God. He alone has perfect wisdom and power in providence, and He acts as and when He wills.
- Light wins — No secret stays hidden. God will sift every doubtful motive, and He will bring out the quiet good done for His eyes alone and praise it.
He increaseth the nations, and destroyeth them; he spreadeth out the nations, and bringeth them in;
Job's friends treated his ruin as proof that God had judged him. He answers by pointing away from himself to whole nations, which rise and fall under the same hand.
Both movements in the verse belong to God. He builds nations up, and He breaks them down. One writer draws out why.
God could and did make nations great, and then as He saw fit, destroy them. He could enlarge the nations and guide them too. But then He could take away the understanding of the chiefs of the people. That leaves the nation on a wandering wilderness path, groping in the dark without light, made to stagger like a drunkard (vv. 23-25). So the nations are an object lesson for all mankind. God blesses them and they become proud of themselves, and so they need the humbling dealings of God.
Job has just listed counsellors led away stripped, judges made fools, kings unbelted, elders losing their judgment. The nations are the last item in that list, and the whole list points one way.
There are all kinds of change. There is nothing, then, that shows the settled judgment of God. Everything among men is in a state of flux — a constant flow and change. So nothing could be more foolish than the basis of the three friends' attack on Job… And that is what happens where people trust in men.
Job is not speaking from theory here. He had lived long enough to watch peoples swell and then vanish, and the sight left him with a question rather than an answer.
From verse 13 to the end of this chapter Job reviewed the ways of God in His dealings with men. He acknowledged that "wisdom and strength" are His, and so are "counsel and understanding." Yet he felt that the way God uses these wonderful qualities was full of mystery… He lived in days when, after the flood, nations had come into being. He had seen such increased and then destroyed. Now why was this?
Commentators tie this verse to Paul's preaching in Athens. One writer traces every nation back to a single race, and the scattering of that race to the time after the flood.
The apostle asserts one true God and one common race. Their fears, their independence from God, and their self-centred confidence in man… brought on dispersion through the different languages, in their lands, after their tongues, their families, and their nations. Up to the flood mankind was only one community… God had not yet set up government as a human institution holding authority from Him. When He did, it was left neither to fate nor to chance, but He determined the seasons, and the limits of their dwelling. Job 12:23 and what follows shows, from early days, how clearly those who feared God knew this.
There is a difference of emphasis, though, between Job and the apostle. Job stresses God's freedom to do as He pleases with nations; Paul adds the purpose behind it.
It is worth comparing how Job handles the same truth in general (Job 12:23-25). He dwells more on the side of God's sovereignty. The nations may be proud and indifferent towards Him, yet to Him they are "like a drop from a bucket," and are accounted "as the dust on the scales" (Isa. 40:15). But the inspired preacher, with glowing heat, presses the moral aim of God's generous arrangements on the grandest scale: that they might seek Him, and perhaps feel after Him and find Him.
Job was right about God and wrong about himself. He described God's power over kings and peoples with accuracy. He never turned that truth on his own case.
He says of God, "He uncovers deep things out of darkness, and brings the shadow of death to light" (v. 22). Job was living through the pangs of darkness himself. He could not uncover deep things from the darkness, nor bring light from the shadow of death. But he realised God can do this. Could He not do it in Job's case? Yes indeed, and He did so before long.
Verse 22 is quoted there from an older translation. The ESV reads, "He uncovers the deeps out of darkness and brings deep darkness to light."
- Rise — God makes nations great. Growth on the world stage is His work, not the achievement of the people who enjoy it.
- Fall — The same hand destroys and disperses them. Everything among men is in constant flux, so no outcome in this world is a fixed verdict on anyone's standing before God.
- Reason — Nations are an object lesson. God blesses them, they grow proud of themselves, and pride calls for His humbling.
- Reach — God-fearing people knew this long before Paul preached it in Athens. To God the nations are a drop from a bucket, yet He orders their history so that people might seek Him.
- Result — Job stated all of this and still could not apply it to his own darkness. The God who brings hidden things to light did it for him before long.
He taketh away the understanding of the chiefs of the people of the earth, and causeth them to wander in a pathless waste.
Job is answering his three friends by listing what God does to the great and the wise — counsellors, judges, kings, princes, elders, whole nations. Verse 24 comes near the end: the leaders of nations lose their understanding, and God sends them wandering with no road.
Job is not preaching a sermon here. He is pulling apart the ground his friends' attack stood on. He does it by showing how changeable human affairs are under God's hand.
There are all kinds of change. There is nothing, then, that shows the settled judgment of God. Everything among men is in flux — a constant flow and change. So nothing could be more foolish than the foundation the three friends stood on in their attack on Job.
God raises and ruins the greatest men without warning. So a man's circumstances tell you nothing about his standing with God.
What God takes is understanding, not armies. Leaders lose the one thing that fitted them to lead, and the nation wanders with them.
God could and did make nations great, and then, as He saw fit, destroy them. He could enlarge the nations and guide them too. But then He could take away the understanding of the chiefs of the people. That reduces the nation to a wandering wilderness path: groping in the dark without light, made to stagger like a drunkard (vv.23-25). So the nations are an object lesson for all mankind. God blesses them and they become proud of themselves, and therefore they need the humbling dealings of God.
The verses just before show the same pattern in the men everyone relied on.
"He leads counsellors away plundered, and makes fools of the judges." That is, He strips counsellors of the value of their counsel. So man's wisdom comes to nothing, and the judges become foolish. Man's authority becomes as useless as his wisdom.
If God can empty the best leaders like this, where should trust go instead?
To whom can we go but to Him? "It is better to trust in the Lord than to put confidence in princes." No matter how well meaning and honest they may be, they are not equal to untangling the universal tangle. And this is because God is not the beginning of their schemes, nor His glory the end of their measures.
Grant points out what Job's own words could have done for him.
If Job had taken time to consider what these things mean, he might not have sunk so low in his miserable state. He sees the facts, but fails to apply their lessons to his own case. He says of God, "He uncovers deep things out of darkness, and brings the shadow of death to light" (v.22). In fact, Job was feeling the pangs of darkness himself. He could not uncover deep things out of the darkness, nor bring light out of the shadow of death. But he realised God can do this. Could He not do it in Job's case? Yes indeed, and He did so before long.
There is also a warning in how Job paints God in this chapter — all power, and nothing else.
It is a dreadful picture Job has drawn of God by this one-sided description of His greatness. Not a word of His love and mercy. It is in full keeping with his despairing heart.
Job's question at the end of the list is why. He grants God every good quality, yet cannot explain what God does with it.
He acknowledged that "wisdom and strength" are His, as well as "counsel and understanding." Yet he felt that God's use of these wonderful qualities was full of mystery. Men who had been wise enough to become chief among the people suddenly lose their understanding. They grope in the dark without a light, or stagger like a drunken man. Now why was this?
So he turns from his friends to God Himself. But something he needed was still missing.
"Surely I would speak to the Almighty, and I desire to reason with God." That is just what he was doing. But how? He did not know. There was not the New Testament yet. There was not One to stand between God and man, like Christ. So he did not know how to get at Him.
- Given — Understanding in a leader is on loan from God, not owned; He can withdraw it, and the wise become fools.
- Grounded — God raises and ruins the great with no fixed pattern. So no one's prosperity or disaster measures his standing with Him.
- Humbled — Nations are an object lesson. God blesses them, they grow proud, and then they need His humbling dealings.
- Redirected — If the best of princes cannot untangle the world, trust moves off men and onto the Lord.
- Unfinished — Job never applies these truths to himself. He paints God as power without mercy, and longs for Someone to stand between God and man.
They grope in the dark without light, and he maketh them to stagger like a drunkard.
Job 12 is Job's answer to Zophar, and most of it describes what God does to the great and the wise — counsellors, judges, kings, princes, whole nations. The chapter ends in the dark, which raises two questions: is this a true picture of God, and what does it say about human strength?
Job starts at the largest scale he knows: whole nations. He traces their rise and their ruin to the same hand.
God could and did make nations great, and then as He saw fit, destroy them. He could enlarge the nations and guide them too. But He could also take away the understanding of the chiefs of the people. That reduced the nation to a wandering wilderness path, to grope in the dark without light, made to stagger like a drunkard (vv. 23-25). So the nations are an object lesson for all mankind. God blesses them and they become proud of themselves. So they need the humbling dealings of God.
The men described here are not fools. They rose to the top because they were able. The verse records the loss of that ability. One commentator ends on the question itself.
He acknowledged that wisdom and strength are God's, as well as counsel and understanding. Yet he felt that God's use of these wonderful qualities was full of mystery. Again and again those who are great and wise — counsellors, judges, kings, princes — are spoiled and overthrown. He lived in days when, after the flood, nations had come into being. He had seen them increased and then destroyed. Men who had been wise enough to become chief among the people suddenly lose their understanding. They grope in the dark without a light, or stagger like a drunken man. Now why was this?
The three friends built their attack on Job on a settled rule. Job answers with reversal after reversal. Nothing among men stays fixed, so their groundwork collapses — and so does any confidence in able men.
There are all kinds of change. So there is nothing that shows the settled judgment of God. Everything among men is in flux — a constant flow and change. So nothing could be more foolish than the groundwork of the three friends in their attack on Job. "They grope in the dark without light, and he makes them stagger like a drunken man." And that is the way it goes where people trust in men.
Everything Job says about God's power is true. The trouble is what he never says.
It is a dreadful picture Job has drawn of God by the one-sided description of His greatness. Not a word of His love and mercy. It is in full keeping with his despairing heart.
Read on its own, the passage leaves you shuddering at raw power. Faith speaks of the same God in a different tone.
It is indeed a great but very sombre picture of omnipotence. We can only shudder at the awful sight. Job's misery has cast a grim light upon all God's greatness. How different is the language of faith: "God is our refuge and strength… therefore we will not fear… Be still, and know that I am God" (Ps. 46). This closes the reply to the second part of Zophar's speech on the greatness of God (vv. 22-25).
The picture of people feeling their way forward without light is not limited to ancient rulers. The same darkness covers anyone with ability and education but no knowledge of God.
Men might be very religious and highly educated, with all the culture of this world's philosophy. Yet without the knowledge of God that is found in Jesus, they walk in darkness and do not know where they are going. They walk in darkness, in ignorance of God, and have no knowledge of what awaits them in time or in eternity. The Christian walks in the light of the revelation of God. He knows that God watches over every step. He has the light of God's word to guide him in every step. And he knows that his path leads into the presence of God, into the eternal light of the Father's house.
- Sovereign — God makes nations great and God ends them. Their rise and fall is a lesson for everyone. Blessing breeds pride, and pride needs humbling.
- Stripped — the men who lose their understanding here are the ablest men. God gave that understanding, and God can take it back.
- Unsettled — everything among men is in flux. So no one can read God's settled judgment off a man's circumstances. That was the friends' mistake, and it is why trusting in men fails.
- One-sided — every word Job says about God's power is true. Yet there is not a word of His love and mercy. Grief can draw an accurate picture and still a distorted one.
- Lit — the answer to groping is not more ability but light. Faith says, "God is our refuge and strength," and walks with God's word lighting every step. That path ends in the presence of God.
Lo, mine eye hath seen all [this], mine ear hath heard and understood it.
These words open Job's reply to his three friends. He has already seen and heard everything they are telling him. So if Job knows as much as his comforters do, where can he take his case instead?
Eliphaz had argued from what he had watched happen in the world. Job answers that he has watched the same world:
Eliphaz had based his condemnation of Job on what he himself had observed. Well, Job too had powers of observation. He had seen all these things he had just spoken of, as he says in the opening verses of Job 13. He did not claim to be superior to his friends, but at any rate he was not their inferior. Yet he admitted that God's dealings mystified him. They were far above him and out of his sight.
The friends are not simply wrong. They take what everyone already knows and turn it into evidence against Job. One commentator compares them to doctors who fix the diagnosis first:
Next, Job boldly charges his friends with being false witnesses for God. They used well-known truths, familiar to everyone, to back up their charge that Job was wicked. What kind of physicians were they to treat a case like this? They have decided what his disease is, and they misrepresent his symptoms to confirm their diagnosis!
The friends knew the same facts Job did. That knowledge did not help them reach him:
They did not know how to present God to Job. As a result, they did not know how to lead Job's conscience into the presence of God. Instead of leading him to self-judgment, they only fed a spirit of self-vindication. They did not bring God into the scene. They said some true things; but they did not have the truth. They brought in experience, tradition, legality, but not the truth.
That failure does more damage than plain error. A true statement aimed at the wrong person carries God's authority with it:
Abstract truth is of no use at all to the saints of God. Things that are true, but misunderstood and misapplied, may do more harm than many a thing that is false. Misapplied truth gives the apparent authority of God to an error. That error then carries all the more weight, because it comes as the truth. If someone says a foolish thing, or one that is clearly false, people dismiss it; but no believer can brush aside the truth of God.
Job has matched his friends point for point. Now he asks for someone else to hear him — God Himself:
But now he says (Job 13), "Behold, my eye has seen all this" — you have been boasting of what the ancients all thought — "my ear has heard and understood it. What you know, I also know; I am not inferior to you. But I would speak to the Almighty, and I desire to argue my case with God." That is just what he was doing. But how? He did not know. There was no New Testament yet. There was no One to stand between God and man, as Christ does. So he did not know how to get to Him. If he could only find Him; if he could only be before Him! He knew very well what he would find there — a faithful God.
Here Job's ear has heard. By the end of the book his eye has seen, and that change is what the suffering gained him:
A greater knowledge of God Himself enriched Job, for he said, "I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you." In these words he contrasted two kinds of knowledge. His former knowledge had been by report only. What he had now gained came by direct sight. He had, if we may put it this way, exchanged second-hand knowledge for knowledge of a first-hand kind. Before, he knew about Him; now he knew Him.
One writer reads Job's long argument as the thing that held this off. Job's own mind kept working instead of waiting:
Job did look up. But his own mind was at work inside him. Instead of waiting for God to come in and explain everything, Job put himself on show and prolonged the furnace and the trial. But God did come in, and Job learned.
- Heard — Job had seen and heard it all already. His friends' speeches told him nothing new.
- Familiar — they took truths everyone knew and bent them into proof of Job's guilt. They were doctors fitting the symptoms to a diagnosis already chosen.
- Misapplied — a true statement aimed at the wrong case does more damage than a plain lie. It borrows God's authority for an error.
- Unreached — knowing about God gave Job no way to Him. He wanted to speak to the Almighty, and no one yet stood between God and man.
- Seen — the trial ended when hearing became sight. Second-hand report gave way to knowing God Himself.
What ye know, I know also I am not inferior to you.
Job has been listening to Zophar, the third of the three friends who came to comfort him and instead accused him. Verse 2 is his answer: they tell him nothing he did not already know, and the question he most wants answered still stands.
Job's claim comes at the end of a long speech where he described God's power and wisdom himself. He knows the material his friends are lecturing him with.
Job has spoken at length of God's wisdom and power. Now he tells Zophar that his eye has seen all this, and his ear has heard it and understood it. What Zophar knew Job knew also: he was not inferior to his critics (vv.1-2). In fact, what Job has said proves he knows more than they do. So his words in verse 2 are an understatement.
Where had Job learned it? Not from them. He had the same two teachers they did, and they had taught him well.
He had said in the previous words that he was not an ignorant man. He fully understood everything his wise friends had told him. Both nature and history had taught him the greatness of God that they kept stressing. What you know, I also know; I am not inferior to you. I am just as good as you are. What he desires is not to speak with them but to the Almighty; he wants to reason with God.
Job's wording is careful. He does not put himself above them. In the same breath he admits that the thing he most wants explained is still beyond him.
Eliphaz had based his condemnation of Job on what he himself had observed. But Job could observe too. He had seen all these things he had just spoken of, as he states in the opening verses of Job 13. He did not claim to be better than his friends, but he was certainly not beneath them. Still, he admitted that God's dealings puzzled him. They were far above him and out of his sight.
If both sides know the same things, knowledge was never the issue. The friends had settled on a verdict and bent the evidence to fit it.
Next, Job charges his friends with being false witnesses for God. They used well-known truths, familiar to everyone, to back up their charge that Job was wicked. What kind of physicians were they to treat a case like this? They have decided what his disease is. Then they misrepresent his symptoms to fit their diagnosis! And they bring in their theory that God always punishes sin in this life, to prove that Job is a sinner! Job turns from them in disgust (Job 13:1-5). And poor Job himself is the victim of the same false theory. He is in danger of blasphemously charging God with injustice.
Verse 2 clears the ground for verse 3. Job turns from his friends and asks for God — but he had no idea how such a meeting could happen.
But now he says (Job 13), "You have been boasting of what the ancients had all thought" — "Surely I would speak to the Almighty, and I desire to reason with God." That is just what he was doing. But how? He did not know. There was not the New Testament yet. There was not One to stand between God and man, like Christ. So he did not know how to get at Him. If he could only find Him; if he could only be before Him! He knew very well what he would find there — a faithful God. But somehow there were difficulties and riddles between God and his soul that he could not understand.
Job rests his case here on what his ear has heard. By the end of the book he sets that against something else, and the difference measures everything he gained.
Job gained a greater knowledge of God Himself, for he said, "I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you." In these words he contrasted his old knowledge, which came by report only, with the knowledge he had now gained by direct sight. He had, if we may so put it, exchanged knowledge acquired at second hand for knowledge of a first-hand sort. Formerly he knew about Him but now he knew Him.
- Heard. Job's ear had already taken in everything his friends were telling him. Nature and history had taught him the greatness of God they kept repeating.
- Equal. He claims no superiority — only that he is not beneath them. Commentators note the claim is an understatement of what he had just proved.
- Useless. Shared knowledge healed nothing. They fixed the diagnosis first and bent his symptoms to fit it, which left them useless as physicians.
- Beyond. Job admits one thing is still out of his sight: God's dealing with him. So he turns from his friends to ask for God, not knowing how a man could reach Him.
- Seen. What finally changed him was not more information but a first-hand sight. He had known about God; at the end he knew Him.
But I will speak to the Almighty, and will find pleasure in reasoning with God;
Job has just told his three friends that he knows all they know. Their arguments have not touched his case. So he turns from the debate and asks for a hearing with God Himself. That wish raises two questions: was Job right to want it, and how could a suffering man reach God at all?
Job does not claim to know more than his friends. What baffles him is God, not their arguments. So he asks for a different conversation partner.
He did not claim to be better than his friends, but he was certainly not beneath them. Still, he admitted that God's dealings mystified him. They were far above him and out of his sight. So, as verse 3 shows, he wanted to speak to the Almighty and reason with God. He did not want to spend his time reasoning with his friends.
The title Job reaches for has a history. It is the name by which God made Himself known to earlier generations.
Notice how "the Almighty" appears freely in the speeches of Job and his friends, alongside "God" itself. That name is how God revealed Himself to the fathers. As a rule, the writer uses the name Jehovah only when he is describing events himself, or introducing God as the speaker.
Job wants to argue his case with God. But wanting a hearing and knowing how to get one are two different things.
"But I would speak to the Almighty, and I desire to argue my case with God." That is just what he was doing. But how? He did not know. The New Testament did not exist yet. There was no One to stand between God and man, like Christ. So he did not know how to reach Him. If only he could find Him! If only he could stand before Him! He knew very well what he would find there — a faithful God. But somehow there were difficulties and riddles between God and his soul that he could not understand.
Job asks to speak with God right after he gives up on his friends. Their fault was not bad information, but bad use of it.
Job charges his friends with being false witnesses for God. They took well-known truths that everyone accepted and used them to prove that Job was wicked. What kind of doctors were they, to treat a case like this? They have decided what his disease is, and they twist his symptoms to fit their diagnosis! … Job turns from them in disgust (Job 13:1-5). … Poor Job, he is a victim of the same false theory. He is in danger of blaspheming by charging God with injustice.
Job's speech is not calm. He argues and accuses. Yet where he takes his complaint is worth copying.
He doubts God's ways and accuses Him. Yet he is sure that if he could only see Him, everything would be cleared up. … It is all a strange contradiction. Still, this longing to come before God is far better than pride. Pride says to Him, "Depart from us! We do not desire the knowledge of your ways." It is always better to bring even our doubts about God to Himself, if we have nothing else to bring.
Later in the chapter Job asks God to lift His hand and His terror, so that he can bear to speak. That plea shows what Job lacked — and what God has since given.
But how dare he speak before the One he would flee from by instinct? Let God at least remove the awful dread that chills Job's heart and relieve his pain. Then he will answer Him or speak to Him. These words are beautiful even in their anguish. They cry out for the blessed Mediator, the One who stands between God and man! Blessed be God! We can "with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." Job could only grope in the dark.
Job got what he asked for. God did speak with him, and the meeting left Job a changed man.
"Now my eye sees you." This was nothing outward now; no distant rumour. … He was dealing with God Himself, who used it all for that very purpose, and so turned Job from everything to Himself.
- Speak past men. Job's friends could not explain his suffering. So he turned from them and asked to speak with God.
- Speak to the Almighty. The title he uses is the name by which God made Himself known to earlier generations, and it runs through the whole book.
- Speak honestly. Bringing doubts and complaints to God is better than the pride that tells Him to keep His ways to Himself.
- Speak through a Mediator. Job had no one to stand between God and man. That gap is now filled, and we can draw near to God's throne with confidence.
- Speak, and God answers. God did meet Job, and the meeting turned him away from himself and his arguments to God.
For ye indeed are forgers of lies, ye are all physicians of no value.
Three friends have explained Job's suffering to him. He answers with two blunt names for them: they invent lies, and as healers they are useless. Can men say true things about God and still be wrong? Does God accept a defence of Himself built on a false charge?
Job calls them physicians. They came because they had heard he was ill. A healer is meant to leave the sufferer better than he found him.
He says, "Worthless physicians are you all." You came to heal me. You had heard of my terrible state. You came to heal and cure me in my dreadful sickness and suffering — and what have you done? You have poured poison on my wounds. You have poured no wine, no oil. You have poured no balm on the poor sufferer.
Israel had a Physician who never failed them.
The LORD Himself was the physician of His people Israel, ready at all times to heal and restore them (Jeremiah 8:22). Job, in the bitterness of his soul, found his friends to be physicians of no value. They did not understand his case, and only added to his misery (Job 13:4).
The friends are not ignorant of true things. Job's charge is forgery: they take real material and shape it into a lie about him.
Next, Job boldly charges his friends with being false witnesses for God. They used well-known truths, familiar to everyone, to confirm their charge that Job was wicked. What kind of physicians were they, to treat a case like this? They have decided what his disease is, and they misrepresent his symptoms to confirm their diagnosis! And they bring in their theory that God always punishes sin in this life, to prove that Job is a sinner!
Their reasoning started in the wrong place.
All their arguments were founded on man and on the world. Everything a believer stands on is what is in God, and what God gives and reveals. And there we find it, in all its perfection, in Christ. But they were resting on man's thoughts and man's experience.
Their failure was not a lack of information. They did not know God's ways, and they did not know the man in front of them.
They did not truly understand God's character, so they could not understand His dealings with a soul. They had no proper sense of sin. So they did not know this: if God is to deal in blessing with man, it must be entirely on the ground of grace. They did not know how to meet his case. They had said many true things, yet not one single right thing that applied to Job, because they did not understand him.
The friends were not simply mistaken. They claimed to speak on God's behalf.
They were speaking wickedly on God's behalf, using deceit in claiming to speak for God. Job knew that God was fully aware that the charges of his friends were not true. So God was certainly not backing them up. Job knew that God was not deceitful, as his friends were proving to be. When the time came, God would search them out and would surely rebuke them. … Men should deeply fear to misrepresent God, whose glory is so high above the heavens.
God does care about His own honour. That is exactly why such a defence fails.
God does not accept honour at the expense of truth. It is His glory that all His attributes blend in one harmonious light. Can He then accept a defence of His character and ways that rests on a false charge? Can He let it brand a man as wicked and hypocritical? Of that same man He Himself had said, "There is none like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, who fears God and turns away from evil." … What then becomes of His testing of His own, and of the sanctifying effect of chastening?
Job's charge is not just one man's bitterness. The book ends by settling who was right.
The LORD speaks to Eliphaz, the leader of the three. He declares His wrath against them all, because they had not spoken of Him what is right, as His servant Job had. And yet their whole argument had apparently been for God's righteousness! Had they not held to this from the very start, with many a noble description and many a fierce condemnation of evil? Had they not fastened the charge of wrongdoing on Job, despite a total lack of proof and against well-known facts to the contrary? Zealous for God's honour — that had been their one theme.
- Diagnosis — The friends decided in advance what Job's disease was. Then they misread his symptoms to fit their theory: suffering always proves wickedness.
- Forgery — They did not invent their material. They took well-known truths and bent them into a false charge against an innocent man.
- Poison — Men who came to heal poured poison into the wound instead of balm, so Job named them healers of no value.
- Misrepresentation — They spoke for God without knowing His character, His grace, or the man they were treating.
- Verdict — Untruth never honours God. In the end He rebuked the zealous defenders and cleared the man they accused.
Oh that ye would be altogether silent! and it would be your wisdom.
Job has just called his three visitors forgers of lies and worthless physicians. Now he tells them the kindest thing they could do is stop talking. When a friend is suffering and we cannot explain why, does our talking help him or hurt him?
The picture behind Job's words is a sickbed. Men came to treat a case they had already decided, and the treatment made things worse.
"You are all physicians of no value." You came to heal me. You had heard of my terrible state. You came to heal and cure me in my dreadful sickness and suffering. And what have you done? You have poured poison on my wounds. You have poured no wine, no oil. No balm have you poured on the poor sufferer.
Job wanted something else from them, and he kept pressing his request through the chapter.
Still, there his friends were, and by this time they had goaded Job into sharper retorts. What he wanted was truth for his mind and healing for his body. He advised them to keep quiet and listen to what he had to say, and he kept on in this way up to verse 13.
The charge in verse 4 is not that the friends said false things about God in general. They said true things and used them wrongly.
Job boldly charges his friends with being false witnesses for God. They used truths everyone knew to back up their charge that Job was wicked. What kind of physicians were they, to treat a case like this? They have decided what his disease is. They misrepresent his symptoms to confirm their diagnosis! And they bring in their theory that God always punishes sin in this life, to prove that Job is a sinner! Poor Job — he is the victim of the same false theory, and is in danger of blasphemously charging God with injustice.
Job ties their silence to wisdom. One writer reads this as a rule for anyone, not just a jab at three men.
"Oh that you would keep silent, and it would be your wisdom!" And it often is a man's wisdom when he sits quiet and holds his tongue. But the moment he begins to speak about what he does not understand — well, what then? That is exactly where they were.
Job's next move is to warn them. Claiming to defend God is a serious business, and the One being defended is watching.
They were speaking wickedly on God's behalf, using deceit in claiming to speak for God. Job knew that God was fully aware that the charges of his friends were not true. So God was certainly not backing them up. God was not deceitful, as his friends were proving to be. When the time came, God would search them out and would surely rebuke them.
Their words did not close the case. They opened it wider, and one writer draws a caution from it.
The three friends failed to convince Job. Their ministry was one-sided. Instead of silencing Job, they only led him out into a field of discussion that seemed almost boundless. He gives them word for word, and far more… No doubt the friends were wrong, quite wrong. But their being wrong did not make Job right. If Job's conscience had been in the presence of God, he would have made no reply to his friends, even if they had been a thousand times more mistaken and severe.
Cut off from human help, Job looks past the three men in front of him.
Job did not claim to be better than his friends, but he was not below them either. Still, he admitted that God's dealings puzzled him. They were far above him and out of his sight. So, as verse 3 shows, what he wanted was to speak to the Almighty and reason with God, instead of spending his time reasoning with his friends.
Getting to God was the problem.
But how could he reach God? He did not know. There was no New Testament yet. There was not One to stand between God and man, like Christ. So he did not know how to get at Him. Yet he knew very well what he would find there — a faithful God.
- Wound. They came as healers to a suffering man, and poured poison on his wounds instead of oil and balm — no comfort, no cure.
- Diagnosis. They had settled what his disease was. Then they bent his symptoms to fit it, using true statements to prove a false charge. Job was caught in the same false theory.
- Presumption. They argued as if they spoke for God, but He had not sent them. Job warns that God would search them out and rebuke them.
- Silence. It is often a man's wisdom to sit quiet and hold his tongue. The danger starts the moment he speaks about what he does not understand.
- Result. Their talk never silenced Job. It drew him into an endless argument and drove him past his friends to lay his case before God. Yet their being wrong did not make Job right.
Hear now my defence, and hearken to the pleadings of my lips.
Three friends keep telling Job that his suffering must be hiding some sin, so in chapter 13 he turns on them. Verse 6 is the hinge: before he takes his case to God, he asks these men to stop talking and listen.
Job has been talking; now he asks for the one thing his comforters never gave him — attention. One writer notes that Job had been trying to get through to them all along, without success:
He was seeking to reason and to plead with them, but they were not listening. Instead they were speaking wickedly on God's behalf, using deceit in claiming to speak for God.
The appeal also marks a turn in the speech:
Poor Job, he is the victim of the same false theory, and is in danger of making the blasphemous charge that God is unjust. He seems to feel his danger, but he must speak. So he turns from the unjust guesses of men to God (verses 6-13).
One translation renders Job's word here as "reproof" and sets it next to the charge that follows:
If only you would keep completely silent! That would be your wisdom. Hear now my reproof, and attend to the pleadings of my lips. For God do you speak wickedly, and for Him do you talk deceit?
Job has just told them that silence would have been their wisdom. The point holds for anyone:
And it often is a man's wisdom when he sits quiet and holds his tongue. But as soon as he begins to speak about what he does not understand — well, what then? That is exactly where they were.
Their fault was not just being wrong. They were speaking for God words He had never said, and Job tells them what that will bring:
He warns them that their whole course is wrong. They are presumptuous in talking deceitfully for God. All this he speaks in self-defense, that he is innocent, and with it the subtle accusation against God once more, that He is unjust. He also warns them that "He will surely reprove you" and this came true.
Job was right about his friends, even while he was wrong about God.
Job aims the plea of verse 6 at men, but his heart is elsewhere. In verse 3 he had already said he wanted to take his case to the Almighty:
He did not claim to be better than his friends, but at any rate he was not beneath them. Still, he admitted that God's dealings puzzled him, since they were far above him and out of his sight. So, as verse 3 shows, what he wanted was to speak to the Almighty and reason with God, instead of spending his time reasoning with his friends.
Here is Job's real problem. He wanted a hearing with God and had no way to get one:
But how? He did not know. There was not the New Testament yet. There was not One to stand between God and man, like Christ. So he did not know how to get at Him. If he could only find Him; if he could only be before Him! He knew very well what he would find there — a faithful God.
Job calls his friends useless doctors. They came to a sick man and left him worse:
You have come to heal me. You have heard of my terrible state. You came to heal and cure me in my dreadful sickness and suffering — and what have you done? Why, you have poured poison upon my wounds; you have poured no wine, no oil. No balm have you poured upon the poor sufferer.
- Listen first. Job's friends talked at him without hearing him. He asks them to take in his case before they answer it.
- Silence next. A man who speaks about what he does not understand should have kept quiet. Silence would have counted as his wisdom.
- Reproof follows. What Job asks them to hear is not a defence but a rebuke. They had talked deceit for God, and God did rebuke them for it.
- Comfort failed. They came as doctors and poured poison into his wounds instead of oil. That warns anyone who visits a sufferer with a theory.
- God hears. Job longed to plead his case before God, but he had no way to reach Him. The One who stands between God and man had not yet come.
Will ye speak unrighteously for God? and for him speak deceit?
Job has been listening to three friends explain his suffering. Now he turns the charge around. The men defending God are the ones twisting the truth. His question unsettles anyone who speaks about God. Can a man lie in God's name and call it service to God?
Job's friends were not inventing new doctrine. They were taking true things about God and bending them to fit a verdict they had already reached about him.
Next, Job boldly charges his friends with being false witnesses for God. They used well-known truths, familiar to everyone, to back up their charge that Job was wicked. What kind of physicians were they, to treat a case like this? They have decided what his disease is, and they misrepresent his symptoms to confirm their diagnosis! And they bring in their theory that God always punishes sin in this life, to prove that Job is a sinner! Job turns from them in disgust. He warns them of how unrighteous their course is. They presume to lie for God!
The next verse asks whether they will show partiality toward God. One writer takes that as favouritism based on appearances, and says the friends were doing it.
"Will you speak falsely for God and speak deceitfully for Him?" That is what they had been doing. They pretended it was for God… "He will surely rebuke you if in secret you show partiality" — and that is what they were doing. They were showing partiality falsely, going by appearance.
Job's confidence rests on something simple: God knew the accusations were false.
They were speaking wickedly on God's behalf, using deceit in claiming to speak for God. Job knew God was fully aware that his friends' charges were not true. So God was certainly not backing them up. Job knew that God was not deceitful, as his friends were proving to be… Men should deeply fear to misrepresent God, whose glory is so high above the heavens.
Behind their speeches lay a method: judge a man's standing with God by his circumstances. One writer compares it to Gamaliel, a teacher in Acts. Gamaliel advised waiting to see how a movement turned out before judging it. That test fails, and here is why.
His judgment by the outcome leaves him a doubter until that outcome arrives. And when, and what, may that outcome be?… Who can pierce the clouds and darkness that are around Him? Who can give a trustworthy account of all His doings? The Psalmist complained about the prosperity of the wicked. He had to follow them beyond death before he found satisfaction. Job's friends argue like Gamaliel here, and the sufferer rebukes them for speaking deceitfully for God (Job 13:7). He too has seen the wicked spend their days in prosperity.
Job's warning that God would rebuke them was not empty. When God speaks at the end of the book, the men who had defended Him are the ones in trouble.
So it is no surprise that God turns to Eliphaz and his friends with stern rebuke for their part in the dispute… He addresses Eliphaz, the leader of the three. The Lord declares His wrath against them all, because they had not spoken of Him what is right, as His servant Job had. And yet their whole case had seemed to be for God's righteousness!… Zealous for God's honour! — that had been their one theme.
Job stops trading arguments with men. He asks for a hearing from God Himself, even though God's dealings baffled him.
He did not claim to be better than his friends, but at any rate he was not beneath them. Still, he admitted that God's dealings mystified him. They were far above him and out of his sight. So, as verse 3 shows, he wanted to speak to the Almighty and reason with God, instead of spending his time reasoning with his friends.
- The charge. Job accuses his friends of being false witnesses for God. They used true statements to prop up a false diagnosis of him.
- The motive. They "pretended it was for God," taking sides by appearances, not by fact.
- The error. They judged a man by how his life turns out. Job answers that the wicked also prosper.
- The danger. God knew their charges were untrue, so He was not backing them. Misrepresenting God is a thing to fear, not a service to Him.
- The verdict. Zeal for God's honour was their one theme, yet God rebuked them for not speaking rightly of Him. Job turned from arguing with men to reasoning with God, and God said Job had spoken what is right.
Will ye accept his person? will ye contend for God?
Job is answering friends who have taken up God's side in the argument and used it against him. His question turns their own devotion into a charge: defending God with a lie is no defence at all.
Older translations read the first half of the verse as "will you accept his person?" To accept someone's person is to decide by appearance — by who stands in front of you, not by the facts. One writer follows Job's words in that older wording, and notes how the warning that follows came true:
"Hear now my reasoning, and listen to the pleadings of my lips. Will you speak wickedly for God? and talk deceitfully for Him?" That is what they had been doing. They pretended this to be for God. "Will you accept His person? Will you contend for God? Is it good that He should search you out?" Well, that is what He did. "Or as one man mocks another, do you so mock Him? He will surely reprove you." How remarkably that was fulfilled! "He will surely reprove you, if you do secretly accept persons" — and that is what they were doing. They were accepting persons falsely — according to appearance.
Job's friends were not inventing new doctrine. They bent well-known truths about God into evidence against a man they had already judged.
Next, Job boldly charges his friends with being false witnesses for God. They used well-known truths, familiar to everyone, to back up their charge that Job was wicked. What kind of physicians were they to treat a case like this? They have decided what his disease is, and they misrepresent his symptoms to fit their diagnosis! And they bring in their theory that God always punishes sin in this life, to prove that Job is a sinner! … He warns them that the course they are taking is wrong. They presume to lie for God! For are they not falsely accusing an innocent man? Are they not afraid to treat truth so lightly, and will not God deal with them? — for they are only men. Poor Job, he is the victim of the same false theory, and he is in danger of blasphemy himself — of charging God with injustice.
Notice what Job assumes: God has not asked for this service. Their "pleading for God" was volunteer work, and it would end badly for the volunteers.
Job reckoned that they were speaking wickedly and deceitfully for God. God had given them no such authority, and He would surely reprove them — as in fact He did.
The friends built their whole case on zeal for God's honour. That is why the verse cuts so deep — and why God's verdict finally went against them, not against Job.
But God does not accept honour at the expense of truth. It is His glory that all His attributes blend in one harmonious light. Can He then accept a defence of His character and ways that rests on a false charge? Such a defence brands a man as wicked and hypocritical. Yet of that very man He Himself had declared, "There is none like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, who fears God and turns away from evil." Can He let so monstrous a theory of suffering pass — the one these men have built, that suffering is always the sure sign of wickedness? That it is all in wrath? What then becomes of His testing of His own people, or of the way His discipline makes them holy?
Job has finished with his friends as counsellors. That does not mean he understands what God is doing.
He did not claim to be better than his friends, but he was certainly not beneath them. Even so, he admitted that God's dealings puzzled him. They were far above him and out of his sight. So, as verse 3 shows, what he wanted was to speak to the Almighty and reason with God, not to spend his time reasoning with his friends.
- Partiality. To "accept a person" is to judge by appearance, not by fact. Job charges his friends with doing it on God's behalf, condemning him because he looked guilty.
- Falsehood. They took true statements about God and forced them into a false verdict on a man. That is lying for God.
- No commission. God never asked them to plead His case. So Job could warn them that He would reprove them — and He did.
- Honour refused. God will not take honour at the cost of truth. He rejects any defence of Himself that rests on a false charge.
- Better direction. Job's response is the model: stop arguing about God with men who cannot help, and take the case to God Himself.
Will it be well if he should search you out? or as one mocketh at a man, will ye mock at him?
Job is answering friends who claim to be arguing God's case against him. Here he turns that claim around. What would happen if God examined them?
His friends were not just wrong about him. They were putting words in God's mouth.
He was trying to reason and plead with them, but they were not listening. Instead they were speaking wickedly on God's behalf, using deceit in claiming to speak for God. Job knew that God was fully aware that his friends' charges were not true. So God was certainly not backing them up. Job knew that God was not deceitful, as his friends were proving to be. When the time came, God would search them out and would surely rebuke them.
Their method was to take truths nobody disputed and bend them into a verdict against one man.
Next, Job boldly charges his friends with being false witnesses for God. They took well-known truths that everyone already knew and used them to confirm their charge that Job was wicked. What kind of physicians were they to treat a case like this? They have decided what his disease is. Then they misrepresent his symptoms to confirm their diagnosis! And they bring in their theory that God always punishes sin in this life, to prove that Job is a sinner!
Job cannot search anyone out himself. He asks his friends how they would fare if God turned the examination on them.
They had assumed to speak for God, but was it right to speak dishonestly or presumptuously? God did not want their favouritism any more than their false arguments. When their time came to be searched out, they would speak very differently.
The second half of the verse asks whether God can be handled the way people handle each other. The friends offered God honour, but built it on a false charge against Job.
But God does not accept honour at the expense of truth. It is His glory that all His attributes blend into one harmonious light. So can He accept a defence of His character and His ways that rests on a false charge? Such a defence brands as wicked and hypocritical the very man about whom He Himself had said, "There is none like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, who fears God and turns away from evil."
The verse sets deceiving God beside showing partiality — taking a side because of how things look. What Job warned them about actually happened.
"Will you show partiality toward Him? Will you plead the case for God? Will it be well with you when He searches you out?" Well, that is what He did. "Or can you deceive Him, as one deceives a man? He will surely rebuke you." How remarkably that was fulfilled! "He will surely rebuke you if in secret you show partiality" — and that is what they were doing. They were showing partiality falsely, going by appearance.
(Older translations read "will you mock Him?" where the ESV has "can you deceive Him".)
Commentators agree that Job read his friends rightly on this point.
He felt they had talked as though speaking on God's behalf, and in so doing had misrepresented Him. In this, no doubt, Job judged rightly.
Job's sharpest words are true, but he does not stand outside the problem. He holds the same wrong theory of suffering that his friends hold — he has just applied it in the other direction.
Poor Job is the victim of that same false theory. He is in danger of charging God with injustice, which would be blasphemy. He seems to feel his danger, but he must speak. So he turns away from man's unfair guesses to God.
So what Job urges on them is not a better argument. It is silence.
And it often is a man's wisdom when he sits quiet and holds his tongue. But as soon as he starts to speak about what he does not understand — well, what then? That is exactly where they were.
- Searched — Job's question moves the spotlight. Men who sit in judgment on a sufferer will face God's examination themselves. Their confident speeches will not survive it.
- Deceived — You cannot handle God the way one man handles another. Partiality, flattery and a case that only sounds good get nowhere with Him.
- Honoured — He refuses praise built on a lie. A defence of God that has to brand an innocent man as a hypocrite is no defence at all.
- Rebuked — Job's warning that God would rebuke them was not bluster. It came true, and it proved he had read them rightly.
- Silent — When you do not understand what God is doing, the safe response is silence, not a louder speech. Job saw this about his friends; he had yet to learn how much of it applied to himself.
He will certainly reprove you, if ye do secretly accept persons.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Shall not his excellency terrify you? and his dread fall upon you?
Job has stopped arguing with his three visitors and started warning them. They have been talking about God in a way that props up their own theory. So Job asks them a question: does the God they claim to defend not frighten them? It is a strange picture. The men defending God's honour are the ones in danger from Him.
Job's charge is not that his friends said untrue things about God in general, but that they claimed a commission they never had. One writer sums up Job's position at this point in the argument:
In his view, they had spoken wickedly and deceitfully for God. God had given them no such authority, and He would surely rebuke them — as in fact He did.
Another writer agrees that Job was right about this much, whatever else he got wrong:
He felt they had talked as though speaking on God's behalf, and in so doing had misrepresented Him. In this, no doubt, Job judged rightly.
The verse ties God's greatness to the care we owe Him when we speak in His name.
Job knew that God was not deceitful, as his friends were proving to be. When the time came, God would search them out and would surely rebuke them… Men should fear to misrepresent God, whose glory is so high above the heavens. That is why Job likens their arguments to ashes and to clay (v.12).
The surrounding verses ask whether the friends will "show partiality" toward God — take His side the way a corrupt judge takes the side of the powerful man in court. One translation of the passage brings out both the force of Job's question and the images he uses for their arguments:
He will surely rebuke you if you secretly show partiality. Does not His majesty terrify you, and His dread fall upon you? Your sayings are proverbs of ashes, your defences, defences of clay!
Their favouritism was not toward God only. It was also the habit of siding with whoever looked right:
"Will ye accept his person? will ye contend for God? Is it good that he should search you out?" Well, that is what He did. "Or as one man mocks another, do ye so mock him? He will surely reprove you." How remarkably that was fulfilled! "He will surely reprove you, if ye do secretly accept persons" — and that is what they were doing. They were accepting persons falsely — according to appearance.
The sharpest reading of the verse is that the friends were bending the truth in God's name and felt no alarm about it.
Next, Job charges his friends boldly with being false witnesses for God. They used well-known truths, familiar to everyone, to back up their charge that Job was wicked… They presume to lie for God! Are they not falsely accusing an innocent man? Are they not afraid to play with the truth? Will God not deal with them? — for they are only men.
The same writer adds that Job was in no safer place. Job "is the victim of the same false theory," and he comes close to charging God with injustice.
At the end of the book, events answer Job's question. The men who were surest they were defending God are the ones He rebuked:
So we need not be surprised that God turns to Eliphaz and his friends with a stern rebuke. It is for their part in the dispute — a dispute that has closed so happily for Job… The Lord declares His anger against them all, because they had not spoken what is right about Him, as His servant Job had. And yet their whole argument had seemed to be for God's righteousness!… Zealous for God's honour! — that had been their one theme.
One writer traces their mistake to its root, and finds there the lesson of the whole book:
There is no more instructive lesson for us than the danger of judging by appearances. It is beyond question a main point in this wonderful book. A quick glance is never the way to form a righteous judgment, as the Lord Himself warned in His day. If it was wrong in them then, it is far more blameworthy in us. Here we find a whole book given to guarding us from that trap.
- Unsent — the friends spoke for God when God "had given them no such authority."
- Partial — they judged Job by how things looked, then handed God the verdict as a compliment.
- Fearless — the majesty they praised should have made them afraid to misrepresent Him. Instead they offered "proverbs of ashes."
- Hollow — a defence of God built on a false theory is only "defences of clay." It cannot hold the weight of a real sufferer.
- Rebuked — Job warned that God "will surely rebuke you," and He did. The men whose "one theme" was God's honour had not spoken rightly of Him.
Your memorable sayings are proverbs of ashes, your bulwarks are bulwarks of mire.
Job turns from answering his friends' arguments to weighing what their wisdom is made of. He compares their sayings to burnt-out ash and their defences to soft clay. Can words about God sound right and still be worth nothing?
Commentators differ over the second half of the verse. One reading makes it the friends' bodies. The other makes it their defence walls.
Their memorable sayings were made of ashes, and their defence walls (not "bodies," as the older English version has it) were made of clay. Here was one more reason for them to keep quiet, and to leave him to have it all out with God, however hopeless that looked, and whatever came of it.
You cannot build with ash, and a wall of clay will not hold.
The friends shared one fixed rule about suffering. Every speech they made rested on it.
That principle is that all suffering punishes rather than teaches. It rests on God's justice rather than on His love — though the two are always joined in everything He does. A rule like this cannot tell the difference between what a righteous person suffers and what a wicked person suffers. Followed to its end, as the friends did follow it, it meant that Job was suffering for some sin no one had spotted yet. His only hope of relief was to confess that sin and so get mercy.
The friends spoke to defend God. Job says their defence misrepresented the One it claimed to protect, and one writer agrees with him.
What he wanted was truth for his mind and healing for his body. They were only men who "whitewash with lies," and "worthless physicians." He told them to keep quiet and listen to what he had to say, and he kept this up as far as verse 13. He felt they had talked as though speaking on God's behalf, and in so doing had misrepresented Him. In this, no doubt, Job judged rightly.
This verse follows straight after Job asks whether God's majesty does not terrify them. One writer reads the two lines as cause and effect.
Job knew that God does not deceive, as his friends were proving to do. When the time came, God would search them out and rebuke them. Job was of course wondering why God did not step in at once. But he asks them a pointed question: "Will not His majesty terrify you, and the dread of Him fall upon you?" (v.11). Men should dread misrepresenting God, whose glory is so high above the heavens. Therefore Job likens their arguments to ashes and to clay (v.12).
So where did their arguments come from? One writer names the source.
He says, "You whitewash with lies." You see, all their arguments rested on man and on the world. Everything a believer stands on is what is in God — what God gives and reveals. And we find it there in full perfection, in Christ. But they were all resting on man's thoughts and man's experience, and things like that.
Job's charge against them is fair. Yet the same false theory has hold of him too.
Next, Job charges his friends outright with being false witnesses for God. They used well-known truths, familiar to everyone, to back up their charge that Job was wicked. What sort of physicians were they to treat a case like this? They have already decided what his disease is, and they twist his symptoms to fit their diagnosis!… Poor Job is the victim of the same false theory, and he is in danger of charging God with injustice, which would be blasphemy.
Job expected God to deal with them for these speeches.
He reckoned they had spoken wickedly and deceitfully on God's behalf. God had given them no such authority, and He would certainly rebuke them — as He did.
- Material. Ash and clay are the test: sayings that crumble, walls that will not hold. Commentators differ over the second line — bodies, or defence walls.
- Source. They crumble because of their source. The friends built on man's thoughts and man's experience, not on what God gives and reveals.
- Content. Their rule was that suffering is always punishment. Such a rule cannot tell a righteous sufferer from a wicked one.
- Danger. Words spoken for God can misrepresent Him. The dread of His majesty should hold a person back.
- Outcome. Job said God would rebuke them for speaking wickedly on His behalf — and He did. Yet the same false theory held Job too, and it was pushing him toward charging God with injustice.
Hold your peace from me, and I will speak, and let come on me what [will]!
Job has just called his friends worthless physicians and told them their wise sayings are ashes. Now he asks for one thing only — silence, so he can take his case to God and bear whatever follows.
Job asks for quiet. He has just charged his friends with speaking for God while not knowing what they were saying.
They were "worthless physicians," he said. He was seeking to reason and to plead with them, but they were not listening. Instead they were speaking evil on God's behalf, using deceit in claiming to speak for God.
Keeping quiet would have been more than good manners.
"Oh, that you would all keep silent! It would be your wisdom." And it often is a man's wisdom when he sits quiet and holds his tongue. But the moment he begins to speak about what he does not understand — well, what then? That is exactly where they were.
Here Job turns from his three friends to God. The change of listener brings him no relief.
The fulness of Job's response to Zophar is striking. In it he practically turns from his friends to God; but sadly, he finds no answer to his awful terror of doubt and darkness. The discourse may be divided into three main parts. (1) He answers his friends (Job 12:1 — 13:13). (2) He challenges God (Job 13:14-28). (3) A hope of immortality amid despair (Job 14).
Job's problem was not willingness but access.
He wanted to speak to the Almighty and to reason with God. That is just what he was doing. But how? He did not know. There was not yet One to stand between God and man, as Christ does. So he did not know how to get to Him. If he could only find Him! If he could only stand before Him! He knew very well what he would find there — a faithful God.
"Let come on me what may" is not recklessness. Job counts the cost before he says a word of his case.
"Let me have silence, and I will speak, and let come on me what may." Now here I am, ready to bear whatever God sends. I feel the awfulness of it, and the terrors of God are on my soul; but here I am; let Him do as seems good in His sight.
Job never claims to have solved his own riddle. He asks for the floor because he can at least dismantle what his friends have built.
Having exposed his friends' ignorance, Job asks them to keep quiet and listen to him. He could not give them the answer to the many questions that troubled him. But he could show them that their answers were empty and wrong. At least he wants time to speak, and then "let come on me what may."
Job had another reason for speaking, and it was an honest one.
Speaking out was a relief to him in the agony he was going through. All he wanted was to be put right if he was wrong.
Job's demand to be heard also exposes him. His defence of himself slides into charges against God, and he still holds on to his own imagined righteousness.
And yet at once he renews his charges against God. He is not yet ready to be stripped of all his fancied righteousness. God holds him as an enemy. God drives him like a withered leaf before the wind. God accuses him of those almost forgotten sins of youth — ah, Job, it seems that even you must admit there have been sins.
What Job asked for — a hearing before God without the dread that crushed him — is open to us now.
But how dare he speak before that One from whose presence he would instinctively flee? Let Him at least remove the awful dread that chills Job's heart. Let Him relieve him of his pain, and Job will answer or speak to Him. How these words, beautiful in their very anguish, cry aloud for the blessed Daysman, the Mediator! Blessed be God, we can "with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." Job could only grope in darkness.
- Silence — Job's friends spoke for God without understanding Him. Keeping quiet would have been their wisdom.
- Turn — this verse ends Job's reply to men and begins his challenge to God. He speaks upward now, but he does not know how to reach Him.
- Cost — "let come on me what may" means he is ready to bear whatever God sends, terrors and all, and let God do as seems good to Him.
- Limit — Job could expose his friends' empty answers, but he had no answer of his own to the questions tormenting him.
- Mediator — his cry to be heard without dread calls out for the Mediator. Job groped in darkness; we can draw near to the throne of grace with confidence, for mercy and help in time of need.
Wherefore should I take my flesh in my teeth, and put my life in my hand?
Job has stopped arguing with his three friends and turned to face God. In this verse he counts the cost of that move: what does a suffering man risk when he brings his case straight to God?
Job's long reply to Zophar moves in stages, and this verse marks the turn from men to God. One outline sets it out plainly:
The discourse may be divided into three main parts. (1) He answers his friends (Job 12:1 — 13:13). (2) He challenges God (Job 13:14-28). (3) A hope of immortality amid despair (Job 14).
Both pictures point one way: Job is staking his own life. One writer gives the sense in a single sentence:
Verses 14-28: here his words are addressed to God Himself. He dares to approach Him. He knows the greatness and awesomeness of God. He is perhaps also aware that he has not honoured Him as he should have done. So he says — and this would be the meaning of this difficult verse — "Come what may, I take my life in my hand and risk it."
Job puts this as a question, and he throws it at his friends. He wants them to work out what would make a man take such a risk:
He asks them, "Why should I take my flesh in my teeth and put my life in my hand?" Did his friends stop to think why he would open himself up to their ridicule and criticism like this? Was there not a reason for it?
Job has just told his friends to be silent, and said he will take whatever comes. One writer puts that readiness into Job's own words:
Now here I am, ready to bear whatever God sends. I feel the awfulness of it, and the terrors of God are on my soul; but here I am; let Him do as seems good in His sight.
The verses that follow show two forces pulling against each other in Job:
On the one hand, there was a remarkable spirit of faith. It led him to take everything that had happened from His hand. He did not concern himself with those who brought the disasters, which had stopped short of his death. He had wanted to die. If God should grant that wish and kill him, he would not lose confidence but would still trust in Him. This indeed was excellent. But at the same time Job revealed his very weak spot in his determination to "maintain," or "defend," his own ways before Him. So we see that in a true saint very real faith in God may exist, while a very determined measure of self-esteem still spoils it. This is what gives such great value to this remarkable book, since the flesh in us who are saints today is just the same as it was in Job some four thousand years ago.
Commentators differ over what comes next, because verse 15 can be read two ways:
So the frail creature takes his life in his hand and stands before his Maker. God can only strike dead a man who has no hope, but Job must speak out and defend his ways as upright before God. This is the thought which seems most in accord with what goes before. On the other hand, many — perhaps most — prefer the wording of the Authorized Version: "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." Read that way, it would be a gleam of light in the middle of awful darkness, and it seems to agree with what follows. Aware of his own uprightness, Job seems to think there may be hope. Either way, he must speak.
Job longed to plead his case with God, but he did not know how to reach Him:
"Surely I would speak to the Almighty, and I desire to reason with God." That is just what he was doing. But how? He did not know. The New Testament did not exist yet. There was no one to stand between God and man, as Christ does. So he did not know how to get at Him. If he could only find Him; if he could only be before Him! He knew very well what he would find there — a faithful God. But somehow there were difficulties and riddles between God and his soul that he could not understand.
The next writer names what Job lacked, and what we now have:
How these words, beautiful in their very anguish, cry aloud for the blessed Mediator, the one who stands between God and man! Blessed be God, we can "draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." Job could only grope in darkness.
- Risk. Flesh in the teeth, life in the hand — come what may, Job stakes his life on speaking to God.
- Reason. The verse is a question thrown at the friends — ask yourselves why a man would expose himself like this.
- Readiness. Job's answer is to stand there feeling the terror and still say: let God do as He sees fit.
- Flaw. Real faith in Job ran alongside a fixed determination to defend his own ways. The same flesh is in us, which is why the book still reads like our own portrait.
- Relief. Job had no one to stand between him and God. What he groped for in the dark is now the open way to the throne of grace.
Behold, if he slay me, yet would I trust in him; but I will defend mine own ways before him.
Job has lost everything, and three friends keep insisting his suffering proves hidden sin. His answer to them holds a famous line of trust — and a second half that is rarely quoted with it.
(The commentators below use older translations. Where the ESV has "I will hope in him," they have "yet will I trust in Him." Where it has "I will argue my ways to his face," they have "I will maintain my own ways before Him.")
Job was told to curse God. Refusing showed him the one thing he could not do without.
Curse God! That would have meant giving up his God. Could he do that? Never. He could lose everything, but not his God. Many things may have seemed necessary to him in the past. But he had now reached this point: he could do without everything except God. God alone was necessary to Job. That is why he later cried out, in his agony and earnestness of soul, "Though He slay me yet will I trust in Him."
Job says wild things in these chapters. Yet he never crosses one line.
Notice this. Though Job gives way to his feelings in this passionate outburst, he did not renounce God, and there is not one word of rebellion against Him. All through his answer to his friends' arguments he does not lose sight of God. Again and again he expresses confidence in the One he cannot see, as in that unmatched saying, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust" (13:15).
Verse 14 speaks of taking his flesh in his teeth and putting his life in his hands. Verse 15 is his answer, and it has two parts: trust in God, and a defence of himself.
He asks them, "Why do I take my flesh in my teeth, and put my life in my hands?" (v.14). Did his friends ever ask why he would open himself up like this to their ridicule and criticism? Was there not a reason for this? In fact, he states firmly that even if God killed him, he would still trust Him. Did his trust in God show that he was guilty of hidden sin? No! he says, "I will defend my own ways, before Him" (v.15).
Self-justification and real faith grow side by side in this speech, and they do not carry him equally far.
How little progress a soul makes while it is busy justifying itself! … He is only judging himself the way a man would… He sees no purpose of grace in God's ways with him. Yet his soul is clearly gaining ground, for he cries out, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him," and a gleam of hope breaks in on his path.
Commentators read this line in two very different ways. It is either a shout of trust, or the words of a man with no hope left.
So the frail creature takes his life in his hand and stands before his Maker. All God can do is strike dead a man who has no hope. But Job must speak out and defend his ways as upright before God. That reading seems to fit best with what comes before. On the other hand, many — perhaps most — prefer the older King James wording: "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." Read that way, the line is a gleam of light in the middle of awful darkness, and it seems to agree with what follows.
At the end of the book God rebukes the three friends and commends Job. God does not hold Job's angry speeches against him. He remembers something else.
Job has confessed and Jehovah has forgiven. He forgets all Job's sinful utterances; He remembers them no more. But in infinite grace He picks out the few sentences scattered through Job's speeches where he honoured the Lord and expressed trust in Him. With these He is well pleased. It must have been sweet music in Jehovah's ear when Job said, "Though He slay me yet will I trust."
Job said this without seeing any purpose of grace in what God was doing. Believers today can go a step further.
Even Job said, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." But we are permitted to go a step further. We know that whatever God brings on the believer is not only the product of divine goodness. It is the deliberate planning of divine love. However severe the trial, however deep the pain, however hard the testing, it only convinces us more of that clear warm love that makes no mistakes.
- Stripped — Job lost everything and found that God alone was the one thing he could not do without.
- Steady — He questioned God's ways, but he never renounced Him or lost sight of Him.
- Split — The same verse holds real trust and a defence of his own record. His soul gains ground; his self-justification makes little progress.
- Disputed — Some read it as a man with no hope facing death. Most read it as a shout of trust, which fits what follows.
- Treasured — God forgot Job's rash words and kept his few sentences of trust. That is what pleased Him at the end.
This also shall be my salvation, that a profane man shall not come before his face.
Job has lost everything, and the friends around him have become his critics. In the middle of his defence he says something startling. The fact that he dares to bring his case before God is itself his hope. A godless man would never come that close.
Job's "salvation" is God Himself: God will not desert him. One writer follows the verse through — the confidence, the reason for it, and the vindication Job expects.
Would God desert him? No! God would be his salvation. He was sure of this. It is true that appearances did not persuade his friends. If a man turned away from God by sinning, he would not have such confidence in God as Job had, "for a hypocrite could not come before Him" (v.16). So Job urges his friends (or critics) to listen closely to what he says. He had not been careless in preparing his case for judgment. He was certain his case deserved careful consideration, for he says, "I know I shall be vindicated" (v.18).
Where the ESV says "the godless," other translations say "hypocrite." One careful rendering brings out a third idea: defilement. The person who is unclean cannot stand there.
Look, He will slay me, yet will I trust Him; but my ways to His face I will argue. This also will be my salvation, that no polluted one shall come before Him... Look now, I have ordered my case, I know that I shall be justified.
Job is not saying "even if I am lost." He is looking past this life to the life to come. And his claim not to be a pretender is honest.
There was a far deeper faith in Job than in all the other three, or in any of them. He did not mean, "though I am lost." Oh no, he had no idea of that. "Though He slay me" — he knew that the best thing was not life on the earth; he is learning that; the best thing is the life to come. There it would be all according to God; but here it is in confusion, and in every kind of moral anomaly. "He also shall be my salvation" — he has no doubt about that — "for a hypocrite shall not come before him." He was very far from that.
Two things run side by side in Job. He trusts God completely, and he still insists on defending himself.
On the one hand, there was a remarkable spirit of faith, which led him to take all that had happened from His hand... He had wanted to die. If God should answer that wish and slay him, he would not lose confidence but would still trust in Him. This was excellent. But at the same time Job revealed his very weak spot: he was determined to "maintain," or "defend" his own ways before Him. So we see that in a true saint very real faith in God may exist, and yet a very determined measure of self-esteem may spoil it.
Another writer traces that weak spot to its root. Job's uprightness was real, but he had begun to lean on it.
Job was upright, but he began to make this his righteousness. That clearly proves that he had never really been in the presence of God. The result was this. He reasoned better than his friends, and he showed a heart that felt far more than they did what God is. Yet he charged God with injustice, and with a desire to harass him without cause (see Job 19; 23:3, 13; 13:15-18; 16:12)... God was bringing him to say, "Now my eye sees You, and I abhor myself."
Commentators differ over the line just before verse 16. One reading has Job risking death in order to speak. The other has him trusting God even if God kills him.
So the frail creature takes his life in his hand and stands before his Maker. God can only strike dead a man who has no hope, but Job must speak out and defend his ways as upright before God. This is the thought that seems to fit best with what goes before. On the other hand, many, perhaps most, prefer the reading of our Authorized Version: "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." Read that way, it is a gleam of light in the middle of awful darkness, and it seems to agree with what follows. Sure of his own uprightness, Job seems to think there may be hope. At any rate, he must speak.
- Confidence — God will not abandon Job. God Himself is his salvation, whatever the appearances say.
- Proof — Job dares to come to God. A man turned away from God by sin would never have that confidence.
- Depth — Job's faith reached past life on earth to the life to come. It ran deeper than the faith of all three friends.
- Flaw — real faith is mixed here with a stubborn drive to defend his own ways. Genuine trust can still be spoiled by self-esteem.
- Outcome — Job expected to be justified. God was bringing him to something else: to see God with his own eye, and to abhor himself.
Hear attentively my speech and my declaration with your ears.
Job has already told his three visitors to be quiet and let him speak. Now he presses the demand again, like a man opening his case in court — and everything turns on who he is really speaking to, and whether his confidence is well founded.
The call to listen comes at the end of a long dismissal of the men who came to comfort him. One writer sums up what Job wanted from them, and what he found instead:
What he wanted was truth for his mind and healing for his body. They were only men who "whitewash with lies," and "worthless physicians." He advised them to keep quiet and listen to what he had to say, and he went on like this up to verse 13. He felt they had talked as though they were speaking for God, and in doing so had misrepresented Him. In this, no doubt, Job judged rightly.
But the friends were not the hearer he really wanted. They had already decided what was wrong with him:
What kind of physicians were they to treat a case like this? They have decided what his disease is, and misrepresent his symptoms to confirm their diagnosis! And they bring in their theory that God always punishes sin in this life to prove that Job is a sinner! Job turns from them in disgust... so he turns from man's unfair guesses to God.
What Job wants heard is a case he has prepared, as the next verse shows:
So Job urges his friends (or critics) to listen carefully to what he says. He had not been careless in preparing his case for judgment. He was certain his case deserved careful consideration... No doubt he would be cleared in the eyes of men in the end. But in the eyes of God it is a different matter, as Job admits in chapter 42:5-6, once God had fully weighed his case.
Job presses to be heard because he expects the hearing to go well for him:
The fact that no hypocrite, no one defiled, comes into His presence was a promise of salvation to him, not a cause of alarm. He presses his demand with earnest force. He is sure of his innocence, and he does not refuse to die if he deserves it.
There is a simpler reason too. Speaking eased him:
In the agony he was going through, it was a relief to him to speak out. All he wanted was to be put right if he was wrong.
One writer finds two things in Job at once here:
On the one hand, there was a remarkable spirit of faith, which led him to take all that had happened from His hand... He had wanted to die, and if God granted that and killed him, he would not lose confidence but would still trust Him. This was excellent. But at the same time Job showed his very weak spot: he was determined to "maintain," or "defend," his own ways before Him. So we see that in a true believer very real faith in God can exist, and yet be spoiled by a very determined measure of self-esteem.
Job wanted an explanation for his pain. He could not yet see what the pain was doing in him:
He would hold fast to his integrity before Him, whatever they said, and he knew God would clear him. He asked only for relief from the suffering, and that the dread of Him would not overwhelm him. He wanted to find out all that was wrong in himself. He begged to know why he was blown about like a leaf or dry straw. He did not yet know the grace that was giving him self-judgment.
- Hearing asked. Job tells his friends to stop diagnosing and start listening. They had misrepresented God while claiming to speak for Him.
- Hearing prepared. His plea is an ordered case, not a burst of feeling — he believes it deserves careful consideration.
- Hearing welcomed. No hypocrite comes into God's presence — and that thought reassures Job instead of scaring him. Speaking out relieves him. He only wants to be put right if he is wrong.
- Hearing flawed. Real faith sits next to a firm resolve to defend his own ways. Genuine trust can still be spoiled by self-esteem.
- Hearing granted. God does hear him in the end. Once God weighs his case, Job speaks very differently. The suffering he resented was grace teaching him to judge himself.
Behold now, I have ordered the cause; I know that I shall be justified.
Job's three friends insist that his suffering proves he is hiding some sin. He turns away from them and speaks like a man in court, with his case laid out and his verdict expected. Is that confidence faith, self-esteem, or both at once?
The language is legal. Job has arranged his defence and expects the verdict to go his way. One writer notes the care behind the claim, and its limit:
So Job urges his friends (or critics) to listen closely to what he says. He had not been careless in preparing his case for judgment. He was certain it deserved careful consideration, for he says, "I know that I shall be in the right" (v.18). It was true that men would one day judge him to be in the right. But in the eyes of God it is a different matter, as Job admits in chapter 42:5-6, once God had fully weighed his case.
His friends had taken truths everyone accepted and bent them into an accusation against him:
Next, Job charges his friends outright with being false witnesses for God. They took well-known truths that everyone accepted and used them to back up their charge that Job was wicked. What kind of doctors were these, to treat a case like this? They have already decided what his disease is, and they twist his symptoms to fit their diagnosis!
Job's confidence here is not a simple thing. One writer finds two elements in him at once, and only one of them is healthy:
In verses 14-19, Job has God before his mind, not his friends. We can see two conflicting elements. On the one hand, there was a remarkable spirit of faith... This was excellent. But at the same time Job showed his very weak spot: he was determined to "maintain," or "defend," his own ways before Him. So we see that in a true believer very real faith in God may exist, and yet be spoiled by a very determined measure of self-esteem.
Job even asked God to show him what was wrong in himself. What he missed was where that desire came from:
He would hold on to his integrity before Him, whatever they said, and he knew he would be justified. He asked only for relief from his suffering, and that the terror of God would not overwhelm him. He wanted to find out everything that was wrong in himself... He did not yet know the grace that was giving him this self-judgment.
Job's uprightness was real. The danger lay in what he did with it:
Job was upright, but he began to make this his righteousness. That clearly proves he had never really been in the presence of God. The result was this: although he reasoned more correctly than his friends, and showed a heart that felt far more deeply than theirs what God is, he charged God with injustice and with wanting to harass him for no reason (see Job 19; 23:3, 13; 13:15-18; 16:12).
It helps to remember what was on trial in this book:
God allowed Satan to test Job. The test was not to find out whether Job's soul was saved and whether he stood righteous before God. It was to find out whether Job feared God only because of his prosperity and his material advantages — which Satan claimed were enough on their own to make a man godly.
Job got the verdict he wanted, but not on his terms. It came when he stopped defending himself:
When his friends slandered Job, he felt it very deeply. But for a long time he fought for his own reputation instead of committing his way to the Lord. When he finally did commit it, God soon brought out His righteousness as the light and His judgment as the noonday. As soon as he condemned himself and justified God, his righteousness became clear, and God Himself testified that at last he had spoken what was right.
- Prepared. Job speaks like a man in court. His case is arranged, and he expects the verdict to go his way.
- Provoked. He speaks because his friends acted as false witnesses for God. They fitted true statements to a false diagnosis.
- Mixed. Real faith and a stubborn defence of his own ways stand side by side in him. Self-esteem can spoil genuine trust.
- Misplaced. His uprightness was real. Turning it into his righteousness was the error, and it led him to charge God with injustice.
- Reversed. The verdict Job argued for came when he stopped arguing. He condemned himself and justified God, and God declared that he had spoken what was right.
Who is he that contendeth with me? For if I were silent now, I should expire.
Job has stopped arguing with his friends Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar, and now lays his case before God like a man in court. The question he throws out here — who will bring a charge against me? — is a dare to his accusers, but he speaks it in God's hearing — and that is where innocence is finally tested.
His friends had been pressing charges against him. His question demands that someone step forward and prove one, and he says his own life hangs on the answer.
He had not been careless in preparing his case for judgment. He was fully certain it deserved careful consideration, for he says, "I know I shall be vindicated" (v.18). No doubt he would be vindicated in the eyes of men in the end. But in the eyes of God it is a different matter, as Job admits in chapter 42:5-6, when God fully considered his case. Meanwhile he asks who could rightly contend with him, for his friends' contentions were empty. He felt it necessary to defend himself — or perish (v.19).
The second half of the verse describes his condition, not a threat. Staying quiet under false accusation would finish him, and speaking was the only relief he had left.
"Who is there who will contend with me? For then I would be silent and die." That is, in the agony he was going through, it was a relief to him to speak out. All he wanted was to be put right if he was wrong.
Job does not claim to be untouchable. He wants the charge against him named, and he will take the consequences if it holds.
He calls attention to his demand earnestly and forcefully, assured of his innocence, and not refusing to die if he deserved it.
Job had decided his three visitors were useless as advisers and worse as witnesses. He wanted to deal with God instead, and he held on to his integrity — though he did not yet see what God was working in him.
It was with God he wished to speak, not with such quacks as they, whose wisdom would be to keep quiet. He reckoned they had spoken wickedly and deceitfully for God, who had given them no such authority, and who would surely reprove them — as in fact He did. He would hold his integrity fast before Him, whatever they said, and he knew he would be justified... He did not yet know the grace that was giving him self-judgment.
Job asked who would contend with him. Much later God puts that same word back to him.
"Moreover the LORD answered Job and said, Shall he who contends with the Almighty instruct Him?" He ought to be able to, if he judges God. This is exactly what fills Job with shame... Job had contended with the Almighty. "He who reproves God, let him answer it."... Job was brought completely down in his own opinion of himself, ashamed of having complained against God and His ways without understanding the least of them.
Grant contrasts Job's tone here with his tone once God had spoken.
How different his words were when God spoke to him directly: "I lay my hand on my mouth" (ch.40:4) — that is, he kept quiet.
- Challenge. Job dares anyone to name a charge against him. His friends' accusations were empty, and he would sooner die than leave them unanswered.
- Silence. Keeping quiet under that pressure would have killed him. Speaking was his only relief, and he asked only for correction if he was wrong.
- Offer. Job claims no immunity. Sure of his innocence, he offers to fall silent and die if anyone can name a real charge.
- Gap. His integrity was genuine before men. But being cleared by men and being cleared by God are two different verdicts. Job had not yet learned that the grace at work in him was producing self-judgment.
- Answer. God later turns Job's own question around on him. The man who silenced three friends lays his hand on his mouth, ashamed of having complained about ways he never understood.
Only do not two things unto me; then will I not hide myself from thee.
Job has told his friends to be quiet. He turns to God with his case, but first he asks for two things — and those two requests expose the deepest problem of the book: how can a man come near God when God's presence is exactly what terrifies him?
One commentator reads the request with the lines that follow, where Job names the two things and promises he will not hide once they are granted:
All he wanted was to be put right if he was wrong. He now says, "Only grant me two things, then I will not hide myself from your face. Withdraw your hand far from me" — the outward thing — "and let not dread of you terrify me" — the inward — "then call, and I will answer" — and so he did — "or let me speak, and you reply to me. How many are my iniquities and my sins?"
Job has just finished his long answer to Zophar, one of his three friends. He now turns to the only other party left:
In this answer he turns, in effect, from his friends to God; but sadly, he finds no answer to his awful terror of doubt and darkness.
One writer hears in Job's two requests a cry for someone to stand between him and God:
But how dare he speak before the One from whose presence he would instinctively flee? Let Him at least remove the awful dread that chills Job's heart, and relieve him of his pain, and he will answer Him or address Him. How these words, beautiful in their very anguish, cry aloud for the blessed Daysman, the Mediator! Thanks be to God, we can "with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." Job could only grope in darkness.
"Daysman" is an old word for an umpire — someone who stands between two sides and settles the matter.
Another writer ties Job's two requests straight to Christ. Job had no one to stand between himself and God:
You see, Job could not answer God, and he is struggling under this. What does he say he wants? "There is no arbiter between us, who might lay his hand on us both." Oh, I have no arbiter! "Let Him take His rod away from me, and let not dread of Him terrify me." What Job says he did not have is exactly what we have now in Christ. Was Christ a terror in this world? The law was exactly that; there were thunderings and lightnings. Even Moses said, "I tremble with fear," and the people said, "Do not let God speak to us." The law struck with terror, but it produced no real change in man, and no confidence in God.
God answered, though not the way Job expected. A new speaker, Elihu, opens by meeting both of Job's conditions. The older translation has Elihu say, "I am according to thy wish in God's stead":
"Behold, I am toward God as you are; I too was pinched off from a piece of clay." This is exactly what Job had desired, and now beyond his expectation. When his friends had completely disappointed him, God supplies the help that was needed: patient consideration of the terribly trying circumstances, with jealousy for God's glory at the right moment. And it comes from the last quarter Job would have looked to for it. "Behold, no fear of me need terrify you." He had complained that God acted this way on his soul and body… "my pressure will not be heavy on you." It was God's hand that Job had so strongly pleaded against.
Job's request was honest, but one writer points out what Job still could not see:
He asked only for a reprieve from suffering, and that His dread should not overwhelm him. He wanted to find out everything that was wrong in himself, and begged to know why he was driven back and forth like a leaf or dry stubble. He did not yet know the grace that was giving him self-judgment.
- Two conditions. Job asks God to lift the hand that afflicts him and to take away the dread — one outward, one inward.
- One direction. Done with his friends, he turns to God alone — and still hears no reply.
- One gap. He longs to speak with God and dreads Him at once. What he lacks is a mediator to lay a hand on both sides.
- One answer. Elihu arrives saying what Job had asked for — no terror, no heavy hand — help from the quarter Job least expected.
- One gift. What Job lacked, believers have in Christ: God near without terror, and confidence to come to the throne of grace.
Withdraw thy hand far from me; and let not thy terror make me afraid
Job turns from his three friends and speaks straight to God. He asks for a hearing on two conditions, and those conditions show what he cannot bear: the pain, and the terror of facing God while it lasts.
Job names what he needs before he can face God without hiding. One writer takes his request in two halves:
He asks, "Only two things do not do to me" (v.20). If so, then Job would not try to hide from God. First, "Withdraw your hand far from me." That is, do not keep up this trying affliction, which Job felt he could not stand. Second, "let not the dread of You make me afraid" (v.21). He did not want to be terrified by the contemplation of the glory of God.
The two requests are not one trouble said twice:
He says now, "Only do not two things to me; then I will not hide myself from You. Withdraw your hand far from me" — the outward thing — "and let not dread of You" — the inward — "terrify me: then call, and I will answer" — and so he did — "or let me speak, and You answer me. How many are my iniquities and sins?"
Job's physical pain was real. One writer says the inner terror cut deeper — and rested on a mistake:
Here we reach the part of his sufferings that was probably more intense than the physical side. One thing gave a sharpness to his grief: the sense that God's wrath was upon him, that the dreadful poison of His anger was consuming him. We know this was a mistake. God was chastening His poor servant in this way, and that was only another proof of His love. But he did not know it, and we should not be harsh with one who felt that the Lord was dealing bitterly with him.
The plea does bring Job to the right question — but he does not stay with it:
Relieve me from the sufferings, withdraw your hand far from me, which rests upon me; and let not your terror make me afraid. Then call, and I will answer; or let me speak, and answer me (verses 20-22). Then once more the right note, the note he must sound to the full in his wretched misery — "How many are my iniquities and sins? Make me to know my transgression and my sins." But it lasted only a moment. He breaks out in fresh charges against God.
Commentators read Job's state here with sympathy but not approval. One notes that Job asked only for a break from the pain, and did not yet see what the pain was doing in him:
He asked only for a reprieve from suffering, and that His dread should not overwhelm him; he wished to find out all that was wrong in himself, and begged to know why he was driven to and fro like a leaf or dry stubble. He did not yet know the grace that was giving him self-judgment.
Earlier Job had wished for a "daysman" — a go-between who could lay a hand on God and on him at once. One writer sets that wish beside Job's plea here:
You see Job could not answer God, and he is struggling under this: what does he say he wants? "Neither is there any daysman between us that might lay his hand upon both." Oh, I have no daysman! "Let him take his rod away from me and let not his fear terrify me." What Job said he did not have is exactly what we have now in Christ. Was Christ a terror in this world?
Later in the book a fourth speaker, Elihu, arrives after the three friends fall silent. He opens by granting Job the very terms he had asked for:
He reminds Job of his own desire for such a person: "Oh that someone would plead for a man with God, as a man pleads for his neighbour" (Job 16:21). To this desire Elihu now replies: "I am here in God's place, just as you wished; I also am formed out of clay. My terror will not make you afraid, and my hand will not be heavy on you" (Job 33:6-7).
But the answer came with a correction Job had not asked for:
It was quite true that Job hid no such wickedness as his friends hinted at. But it was completely false to think God had no reason. He had the wisest reasons for withering self in Job's eyes.
- Two things. Job asks God for two things: lift the hand that is crushing him, and take away the dread that terrifies him. One is outward, the other inward.
- The dread is worse. The sense that God's anger was against him hurt worse than the physical pain. That sense was wrong: God was chastening him in love.
- The wish behind the wish. What Job lacks is a go-between who can touch God and touch him at once — a hand that is not heavy.
- Right for a moment. In the same breath he asks God to show him his sins. That is the right note. But he drops it and turns to fresh charges against God.
- Granted, and more. Elihu answers on Job's own terms: no terror, no heavy hand. What Job said he did not have, commentators say, we now have in Christ.
Then call, and I will answer; or I will speak, and answer thou me.
Job's friends keep treating his suffering as proof of hidden guilt, so he turns from them and speaks to God. He asks for a hearing on his own terms — but may a man set conditions before his Maker?
Verse 22 does not stand alone. It is the second half of what Job asks. The first half names two things that must go before any talk can start.
He asks, "Only do not do two things to me" (v.20). If so, then Job would not try to hide from God. First, "Withdraw your hand far from me." That is, do not go on with this affliction, which Job felt he could not bear. Second, "let not the dread of You make me afraid" (v.21). He did not want the thought of God's glory to terrify him.
The two conditions deal with different troubles. Only when they go does Job make his offer.
"Withdraw your hand far from me" — that is the outward thing. "And let not your dread" — the inward — "make me afraid." "Then call, and I will answer" — and so he did — "or let me speak, and answer me."
Job is not only defending himself. He is reaching for contact with God.
Was there not a possibility of some communication with God? Either let God call him and let Job answer, or let Job speak and God respond to him (v.22).
Job does not hold that tone for long.
Relieve me from the sufferings. Withdraw Your hand, which rests on me, and keep it far away. And let not Your terror make me afraid. Then call, and I will answer (verses 20-22). Or let me speak, he says, and answer me. Then the right note sounds once more. In the end he must sound that note in full in his wretched misery — "How many are my iniquities and sins? Make me to know my transgression and my sins." But it lasted only a moment. He breaks out in fresh charges against God.
The condition attached to the invitation exposes Job's real problem. He wants to speak, and he cannot bear to.
But how dare he speak before that One from whose presence he would instinctively flee? Let Him at least remove the awful dread that chills Job's heart. Let Him relieve his pain, and Job will answer or speak to Him. How these words, beautiful in their very anguish, cry aloud for the blessed Daysman, the Mediator! Blessed be God, we can "with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need."
Earlier Job had named what he lacked.
You see Job could not answer God, and he is struggling under this: what does he say he wants? "There is no arbiter between us, who might lay his hand on us both." Oh, I have no arbiter! "Let Him take His rod away from me, and let not dread of Him terrify me." What Job said he did not have is exactly what we have now in Christ. Was Christ a terror in this world?
Two things are at work in Job at once, and they pull against each other.
On the one hand, there was a remarkable spirit of faith... He had wanted to die. If God granted that wish and killed him, he would not lose confidence but would still trust Him. This was excellent. But Job also showed his weak spot. He was determined to "maintain," or "defend" his own ways before Him. So we see that a true saint may have very real faith in God, and yet a determined streak of self-esteem can spoil it.
Job got his hearing. It did not run the way he had drafted it.
Look back at the beginning of Job 23. There Job had expressed his wish to get into contact with God, in a self-confident way. He felt sure he could set out his case before Him... Now the moment had come for his wish to come true. Jehovah tells him to dress for action like a man, and to be ready to answer the voice of God. The questionings now should come from God.
- Terms — Job will speak only if two things go: the hand pressing on his body, and the dread pressing on his heart.
- Turning — He drops the argument with his friends and asks God for a hearing. He will speak first or second; he only wants a reply.
- Lack — His conditions expose what he does not have: no mediator, and so no way to come near without terror.
- Supply — What Job lacked, we now have in Christ, who was no terror in this world.
- Reversal — The call came, but the questions came from God's side. The hearing Job had planned as his own defence left him with nothing to say.
How many are mine iniquities and sins? Make me to know my transgression and my sin.
Job has stopped arguing with his friends and now speaks straight to God. He asks God Himself to name his sins, and a protest runs under the request: the punishment has outrun the crime.
Job leaves the argument with his friends and takes his case to God. The moment he does, his tone about himself changes.
Verse 23 shows that as soon as Job felt himself to be before God, he acknowledged iniquity and sins. He wanted to know how many they were. As the following verses reveal, he felt that the punishment he was suffering went beyond what he really deserved. He was like a man with his feet in the stocks, and so an easy target for anyone who wanted to throw things at him.
Job never claims to be sinless. He has settled for a verdict he and his neighbours could reach on their own. That is what he had to unlearn.
Did he say there was no sin in him? He never said anything of the kind. He never had the presumption to say, "I am clean in Your eyes." No, far from it. Unfortunately he had rested instead in being clean in his own eyes, and in the eyes of other people. But he had to learn that being clean in God's eyes was a very different thing. He begins to learn that more and more deeply.
The request is sincere, but it is not pure. A few lines later, the same voice that asked God to show him his sin starts filing charges against Him.
And yet at once he renews his charges against God. He is not yet ready to have all his imagined righteousness stripped away. God holds him as an enemy. He drives him like a withered leaf before the storm. He accuses him of those almost forgotten sins of youth — ah, Job, it seems that even you must admit there have been sins. He watches him, and makes his imagined robe of righteousness look like a moth-eaten garment.
Job wants to meet God and speak. But he has no one to bring him there, and that gap is the ache running through his words.
How these words, beautiful in their very anguish, cry aloud for the blessed Daysman, the Mediator! Blessed be God! We can "with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." Job could only grope in darkness.
Job never gets the list he asks for. What he gets instead is the one thing he needed.
Job needed this, and God saw that he needed it. He was gracious and devout, but he did not know himself. He had never seen God in a way that brought him to a real knowledge of himself in His presence. So God deals with him in a way that brings his sinfulness fully out. Then He places him in His own presence, with that sinfulness now plain to his conscience.
Only God can show a person what is wrong inside. The prayer that fits is not a question about one item, but an open door.
We need continual recourse to Him whom the psalmist called on: "Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me." What incompetent judges we are in our own case! We do not say to Him, "Search out this or that," but, "Search me." And so, if we are perfectly honest in it, we invite the light to pour into all the dark corners and crannies of our lives and hearts. We are with Him without reserve — for self-judgment, but as He shows us to ourselves and so enables us.
- Turning. Once Job stands before God, he admits iniquity and sins instead of defending a clean record.
- Mirror. He never claimed to be sinless. He rested in being clean in his own eyes and other people's. God's eyes are a different measure.
- Mixture. The same breath that asks God to show him his sin also renews charges against Him. Job is not yet willing to lose his imagined righteousness.
- Mediator. Job's plea cries out for a mediator he does not have. He groped in darkness; we draw near with confidence to the throne of grace.
- Method. God answers not with a list but with Himself. He brings Job's sinfulness out, then sets him in His presence with his conscience awake. Pray it as "search me," not "search out this or that."
Wherefore dost thou hide thy face, and countest me for thine enemy?
Job has stopped arguing with his three friends and turned to God Himself. His cry here is the sharpest in the book so far: a hidden face, and a man counted among God's foes. Two questions follow. Is the charge true? And what should a suffering believer do when God seems silent?
Why is Job speaking to God at all, instead of answering his friends?
He did not claim to be better than his friends, but he was certainly not below them. Still, he admitted that God's dealings puzzled him, since they were far above him and out of his sight. So, as verse 3 shows, what he wanted was to speak to the Almighty and reason with God, instead of spending his time reasoning with his friends.
The words sound like a plea, but they carry a charge. Job says God treats an innocent man as guilty. Later in the book, Elihu quotes the complaint back to him.
"Behold, He finds occasions (or, malicious things) against me, He counts me as His enemy" (Job 33:10)… "Why do You hide Your face and count me as Your enemy?" (Job 13:24; so also Job 19:11). So the insult against divine majesty becomes glaring — Job is pure, but God treats him as impure!
Gaebelein traces the outburst back to how Job saw himself:
He breaks out in fresh charges against God. His self-righteousness has blinded him so that he asks, "Why do You hide Your face and count me as Your enemy?" He brings terrible charges against his Maker — charges of injustice.
Did Job ever claim there was no sin in him?
He never said anything of the kind; he never had the presumption to say, "I am clean in Your eyes." No, no, far from it. Sadly, he had rested in being clean in his own eyes, and in other people's eyes. But he had to learn that being clean in God's eyes was a very different thing. He begins to learn that more and more deeply.
What comes after the question is a list of what Job thinks God is doing to him.
God holds him as an enemy. He drives him like a withered leaf before the wind. He accuses him of those almost forgotten sins of youth (ah, Job, it seems that even you must admit there have been sins). He watches him, and makes his imagined robe of righteousness look like a moth-eaten garment. So Job charges his Maker, and does not pause to hear what He will reply.
Later in the book, Elihu answers this charge:
Will he apologise for the apparent discrepancy in God's ways, and seek to explain it away? No; in one brief sentence he sets aside all human reasoning — "God is greater than man." In other words, God is God. If we are to reason, let it not be from the lesser to the greater, but from the greater to the less. Let us say, How could the Almighty, all-perfect Being commit an unrighteous act? "Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?" (Gen. 18:25).
Job wants to speak to God and dreads Him at the same time.
But how dare he speak before the One he would instinctively flee from? … How these words, beautiful in their very anguish, cry aloud for the blessed Daysman, the Mediator! Blessed be God, we can "with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." Job could only grope in darkness.
Job's place in history matters too:
We must also remember that the saints of earlier days were not in as good a position as we are today. … The blessed God doubtless met them in their needs, but they did not have, as we do, a sympathising high Priest in heaven. … This man, along with David and Hezekiah, shows us the saint in bodily suffering.
- Turning. Job stops arguing with his friends and takes his case to God. But he brings his self-defence with him.
- Accusing. The question is a charge in disguise: that God treats a pure man as impure. Elihu later quotes it back as proof.
- Blinded. Job never claimed to be sinless. He rested in being clean in his own eyes. He had yet to learn what it means to be clean in God's.
- Answered. The reply is not an explanation of God's ways but a word about God: "God is greater than man." Reason from the greater down, not the lesser up.
- Provided. Job cried out for a Mediator he could not see. Believers now have a sympathising High Priest, and a throne of grace they can draw near to with confidence.
Wilt thou terrify a driven leaf? and wilt thou pursue dry stubble?
Job is deep in suffering and has turned from arguing with his three friends to speaking directly to God. He has just asked why God hides His face, and now he asks why such power would bother with such weakness.
Job never claimed to be free of sin. He had rested in looking clean to himself and to other people, and here he shows a man with no strength of his own.
Did he say that there was no sin in him? He never said anything of the kind; he was never so bold as to say, "I am clean in Your eyes." No, no, far from it. Sadly, he had rested in being clean in his own eyes and in the eyes of other people. He had to learn that being clean in God's eyes was a very different thing. He begins to learn that more and more deeply. "Why do You hide Your face and count me as Your enemy? Will You frighten a driven leaf?" Was that a person pretending to any strength?
Job's question is not only about weakness but about worth. He cannot see why God would trouble Himself with something so small. (Where the ESV says "dry chaff," older translations read "dry stubble.")
Because God did not respond, Job thought God considered him an enemy (v.24). He compared himself to a leaf or to dry stubble, not worth any attention. Why would God frighten an object so insignificant?
Job speaks honestly, but his words turn into charges against God. He states his case and does not wait to hear the reply.
And yet at once he renews his charges against God. He is not yet ready to let go of his imagined righteousness. God holds him as an enemy. God drives him like a withered leaf before the wind. God accuses him of those almost forgotten sins of youth (ah, Job, it seems that even you must admit there have been sins). So Job charges his Maker, and does not pause to hear what He will reply.
Job asked for relief, and for the reason behind his suffering. He could not see what that suffering was doing in him.
He asked only for relief from suffering, and that the dread of Him should not overwhelm him. He wanted to find out all that was wrong in himself. He begged to know why he was driven to and fro like a leaf or dry stubble. He did not yet know the grace that was giving him self-judgment. He sees only a record kept of bitter things, and himself made to inherit his youthful iniquities.
The verse is a real prayer, torn out of a man in physical agony. Commentators place Job alongside others in Scripture who prayed like this.
This man, along with David and Hezekiah, shows a believer suffering in his body. "Why do You hide Your face and count me as Your enemy? Will You frighten a driven leaf and pursue dry chaff?" (Job 13:24-25). "O Lord, rebuke me not in Your anger, nor discipline me in Your wrath" (David, Ps. 6:1). For Hezekiah, see Isaiah 38. What good would a prayer book or a written form of prayer have been to men in such circumstances? No one can predict the distresses of the heart.
Job feels God's hand pressing hard on him. There is a worse place to be than that.
To be "let alone" by God is the most awful condition in which man can find himself. It is ten thousand times better to be poured from one jar to another, like Job, than to be left to drift down the stream, like Ephraim. It is better to feel the weight of God's hand in discipline — for it is a Father's hand — than to live with the sense that He has turned His face away.
- Leaf. Job pictures himself as a blown leaf and dry stubble — a man making no claim to strength of his own.
- Enemy. God's silence made Job think that God counted him an enemy and was charging old sins to his account.
- Charge. The honest cry slides into an accusation, because Job is not yet willing to give up his own righteousness.
- Grace. The self-judgment growing in Job was grace at work, though he could not see it at the time.
- Face. God's hand in discipline is a Father's hand. Fear His turned-away face, not His blows.
For thou writest bitter things against me, and makest me to possess the iniquities of my youth;
Job turns from arguing with his three friends to speaking straight to God, and he reads his suffering as a bitter charge written against him. Two questions press: is God dragging up sins from decades back, and what does it mean to inherit them now?
Job has no scroll in front of him. He reads his wounds as though they were words.
Because God did not respond, it seemed to Job that God counted him as an enemy (v. 24)… He felt that God was writing bitter things against him — not literally, but at least in effect. He also felt that God was bringing up the sins of his youth, since his more recent sins would not be as blatant as those of his youth (v. 26).
One writer takes the line to mean that Job feared his old sins were landing on him at that moment. He sets that beside what Job still had to learn about himself.
Sadly he had rested in being clean in his own eyes, and in other people's eyes. But he had to learn that being clean in God's eyes was a very different thing… "For you write bitter things against me and make me inherit the iniquities of my youth" — it may be that they are coming upon me now.
Job means the line as an accusation against God. But he cannot make it without admitting something about himself.
And yet at once he renews his charges against God. He is not yet ready for God to strip away all his imagined righteousness… God accuses him of those almost forgotten sins of youth (ah, Job, it seems that even you must admit there have been sins). He watches him, and makes his imagined robe of righteousness look like a moth-eaten garment.
Job wanted to know what was wrong in him. One writer points out what Job could not see while it was happening.
He wished to find out all that was wrong in himself, and begged to know why he was driven back and forth like a leaf or dry stubble. He did not yet know the grace that was giving him self-judgment. He sees only a record kept of bitter things, and himself made to inherit the iniquities of his youth.
Job wanted to put his case to God, but had no one to stand between. One writer hears that cry in these words.
How these words, beautiful in their very anguish, cry aloud for the blessed go-between, the Mediator! Blessed be God, we can come with confidence to the throne of grace, to receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. Job could only grope in the dark.
Job complains that God charges his youth against him. A psalm prays about the same sins of youth, and asks God not to remember them.
"Remember, O Lord, Your tender mercies and Your loving kindnesses, for they are from of old" (v. 6)… And He will answer too the prayer that follows, "Do not remember the sins of my youth, nor my transgressions" (v. 7). Where there is faith that depends on Him, He will not remember the sins of our youth against us. Nor will He remember our transgressions against us.
- Written — Job reads his suffering as a charge God is drafting against him. The writing is not literal, but it is real in effect.
- Inherited — he fears the sins of his youth are landing on him now, since his later sins were not as blatant as those early ones.
- Exposed — the complaint hides a confession. Even Job has to admit there were sins, and his imagined robe of righteousness starts to look moth-eaten.
- Misread — the bitter things were grace at work, giving him self-judgment. Job did not yet know it.
- Answered — Job groped in the dark for a mediator. We can come to God with confidence, and where faith depends on Him, He will not remember the sins of our youth against us.
And thou puttest my feet in the stocks, and markest all my paths; thou settest a bound about the soles of my feet; --
Job has stopped arguing with his friends and now speaks straight to God. What comes out is not a prayer but a charge: he feels shamed, watched and fenced in like a prisoner, by the very One he wants an answer from.
Job names a real device, not a vague picture. A Bible dictionary defines the word behind "stocks":
sad: stocks in which the feet were shut up. Job 13:27; Job 33:11; Acts 16:24.
So Job is not just saying God limits him. He is saying God has shamed him in public and left nothing about him unrecorded:
"You put my feet also in the stocks" — you make me an object of shame before everybody — "and look closely at all my paths; you set a mark on the heels of my feet." Someone might think the heels were hidden. But no — everything is marked.
(Kelly follows an older reading, "you set a print upon the heels of my feet"; the ESV has "you set a limit for the soles of my feet.")
A man locked in stocks cannot dodge what is thrown at him. Job felt the blows were more than he had earned:
He felt that the punishment he was suffering went beyond what he deserved. He was like a man with his feet in the stocks, and so an easy target for those who wanted to throw things at him.
Read on its own the verse sounds like a description of pain. In context, it is one of several charges Job brings against God. What he defends is his own record:
And yet at once he renews his charges against God. He is not yet ready to let God strip away the righteousness he imagines he has. God holds him as an enemy. He drives him like a withered leaf in the wind. He charges him with those almost forgotten sins of youth — ah, Job, it seems that even you must admit there have been sins. He watches him, and makes the robe of righteousness Job imagines he wears look like a moth-eaten garment. So Job charges his Maker, and does not pause to hear what He will reply.
The watching Job resents is doing something in him. It forces him to examine himself, and he reads that as hostility:
He asked only for a break from suffering, and that God's dread would not overwhelm him. He wanted to find out everything that was wrong in himself. He did not yet know the grace that was giving him self-judgment. He sees only a record kept of bitter things: his feet put in the stocks, his ways watched, the very soles of his feet marked.
This line is not left behind. Later in the book Elihu repeats it almost word for word (Job 33:11). Set beside Job's claim of innocence, it exposes a contradiction:
He was so clean, so innocent, so free from iniquity. And yet he says of God, "He finds occasions against me, He counts me for His enemy. He puts my feet in the stocks and watches all my paths." Here is an obvious contradiction. How could a holy, just, and righteous Being count a pure and innocent man His enemy? Impossible. Either Job was deceiving himself, or God was unrighteous.
The complaint was no slip of the tongue, so it could not be left alone:
Elihu does not misrepresent Job, and he is not seizing on some chance expression. Such charges must be met, and Job convinced that they are false, or he could never have peace in his own soul, and a dark stain would rest on God's honour.
Job's facts are right: God does watch every path. His reading of God's motive is wrong:
"He never withdraws His eyes from the righteous." Even a Job might find this a painful trial rather than a gain in his time of distress. He cried out in his anguish, "What is man, that You make so much of him, and that You set Your heart on him, visit him every morning and test him every moment?" But Job, with all his outward perfection, had not yet seen God as he was to see Him... How blessed it is, once we have truly seen Him, to know that every step we take matters to Him!
- Watched — God marks every path, even the heels a man thinks no one sees. On the facts, Job is right.
- Misread — Job reads that attention as a jailer's watch. He says God has shamed him in public, like a prisoner in the stocks.
- Defended — behind the complaint sits a robe of righteousness Job is not yet willing to let go.
- Unrecognised — the very pressure forcing him to examine himself was grace at work, and he could not yet see it.
- Answered — Elihu quotes the line back to Job. The charge had to be met, or Job could never have peace and a stain would rest on God's honour.
One who, as a rotten thing consumeth, as a garment that the moth eateth.
Job has stopped arguing with his friends. He now speaks to God, and asks why God treats him as an enemy. The chapter ends with no answer — only a picture of quiet ruin, something rotting away, something eaten through. Who is this wasting figure?
Job wanted his own wrongs named, and he could not see why God pressed him so hard. One writer traces how the speech reaches this line:
He wanted to find out all that was wrong in himself. He begged to know why God drove him back and forth like a leaf or dry stubble. He did not yet know the grace that was giving him self-judgment. He sees only a record kept of bitter things. He sees himself made to inherit the sins of his youth. God puts his feet in the stocks, watches his ways, and marks the very soles of his feet. And all the while he was only wasting away like a rotten thing, or a moth-eaten garment.
The second image turns on a detail of ancient life. Cloth was wealth, and people stored it:
This is the clothes-moth, whose damage is well known. In the East garments were kept in large quantities, as property and as gifts. Moths do not attack clothing that is worn; they lay their eggs in what is laid up, and there the young find their food. From this comes the lesson to lay up treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust can spoil or destroy.
The moth ruins what people hoard and guard. Job describes a slow, hidden loss that nothing stops.
Older versions read this line as "he wastes away" — Job speaking about himself. The ESV reads "Man," and the words hold true both ways:
Verse 28 is true of all mankind. But Job was thinking of himself as decaying, and complaining about it. Sin belongs to the nature we received from Adam. We cannot escape the decay it brings, and that decay ends in death.
The moth-eaten garment carries a second meaning. It is the robe of righteousness Job believes he is wearing:
And yet at once he renews his charges against God. He is not yet ready to lose the righteousness he imagines he has. God holds him as an enemy. He drives him like a withered leaf before the wind. He charges him with those almost forgotten sins of youth (ah, Job, it seems that even you must admit there have been sins). He watches him, and makes his imagined robe of righteousness look like a moth-eaten garment. So Job accuses his Maker, and does not pause to hear what He will reply.
Job never claimed to be sinless. His mistake was smaller and far more common:
Did he say there was no sin in him? He never said anything of the kind; he never had the presumption to say, "I am clean in your eyes." No, far from it. Unfortunately he had rested in being clean in his own eyes, and in the eyes of other people. But he had to learn that being clean in God's eyes was a very different thing. He begins to learn that more and more deeply… "You watch closely all my paths; you set a mark on the soles of my feet." You might think the soles of the feet are hidden. But no — God marks everything. "And he, like a rotten thing, wastes away, like a garment that is moth-eaten."
This is where the first round of the argument ends. One writer names the note it ends on:
This address closes the first round of the debate. Its ending is a most beautiful song of mourning over the frailty and uncertainty of human life. Man comes up like a flower, and is cut down and withers. We are listening to the wail of Psalm 90, but without its faith in God, and not yet followed by the triumph of Psalm 91.
- Decay — Two pictures, one point: something rots, something is eaten through. Both show a loss that works from the inside, where no one can stop it.
- Moths — Moths ruin what is stored, not what is worn. They feed on the treasure we guard most.
- Everyone — Job means himself, but the words fit all of us: a nature inherited from Adam, and a decay that ends in death.
- Robes — The garment the moth eats is also the righteousness Job has defended all chapter. God is letting him see how it looks under His eye.
- Answer — Job ends in a lament with no answer yet — Psalm 90's wail without Psalm 90's faith, and not yet Psalm 91's triumph. The cry is real; the reply is still coming.
Man, born of woman, is of few days, and full of trouble.
Job has been arguing with his friends. Now he turns to God and speaks about every human being, himself included: life is short, and it is full of trouble.
Job's tone changes here from debate to mourning. One writer compares his words to a psalm about human frailty:
The close of this address ends the first round of the debate. It is a beautiful funeral song about the frailty and uncertainty of human life. Man comes up like a flower, and is cut down and withers. We are listening to the wail of Psalm 90, but without its faith in God, and not yet followed by the triumph of Psalm 91.
The phrase is not about a short lifespan by human reckoning. Job himself went on living long after he said it, and the words still held:
In these verses Job gives a vivid description of how quickly man's life on earth passes. This is generally true of all mankind, though men do everything in their power to soften this condition. Job himself lived 140 years after his bitter experience, yet when it was finished, it was only "few of days." In view of this brevity of life, Job wondered why God troubles Himself to bring him to judgment, as he thought God was doing.
Job is speaking of man only as he enters the world by natural birth. One commentator notes how different a believer's words can be:
Now, if you are speaking of those who are born of God, is that all you could say? Surely not! To depart is no doubt gain, but to live is well worthwhile, above all when Christ is the object. Such people can say, in their measure and despite all their weaknesses and faults, "For to me to live is Christ." Yes, that life is full of blessing. But here it is only man born of woman, never born of God — not yet, until a later chapter. Not one of these is thought of as born of God.
Job's next words show what troubled him most. Shortness of life was bad enough; being unfit to stand before God was worse.
In the far-off days of Job human life was perhaps three times longer than it is today. Yet it was still "few of days," and then it was "full of trouble," just as it is today. Seen in the light of the eternal God, he is only like a fading flower or a fleeting shadow. Job was conscious of this about himself, and so he knew he could not stand up under God's inspection, nor stand before Him in judgment. What is more, he knew that he was not clean in the sight of God, and he was sure no one could produce the clean out of the unclean.
Job was right that no one can bring something clean out of something unclean. What he could not see is where cleansing does come from:
"Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean? Not one!" This is impossible for any human being. Yet God is able to purify men's hearts, cleansing them through the blood of Jesus Christ (1 John 1:7), by faith (Romans 3:25). But we find this only in the New Testament, so Job did not understand such a marvellous gospel.
Everything Job says here stays inside what he can see. Death ends the life he knows, and at this point in the book he has no light beyond it:
In Job 14, he clearly does not go beyond this present world of sight, and in the bitterness of his spirit has no sense of resurrection. A tree sprouts again in this present world, where we can see it. Man does not, and in fact never will, unless by a miracle, as with Lazarus. Death has wholly passed on him as an inhabitant of this world — a child of Adam. Such life he never recovers. Job was right, only he did not see beyond, nor here know Him who is the resurrection and the life.
- Few days. Even Job's extra 140 years counted as "few of days." The verse measures life by God's scale, not ours.
- Full of trouble. Job's grief is real but incomplete. It is the sorrow of Psalm 90 without its faith, and without the triumph of Psalm 91.
- Born of woman. That birth is all this verse describes — man as he comes from Adam, not yet born of God. Those born of God can say something more: for them, to live is Christ.
- Not clean. Job's own answer stands: no human being can bring the clean out of the unclean. The problem is deeper than the shortness of life.
- Not seeing beyond. Job was right about man and death. He stopped too soon: he did not yet know the One who is the resurrection and the life, or the blood that cleanses.
He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down; and he fleeth as a shadow, and continueth not.
Job has been answering his friend Zophar. He ends the first round of the debate by turning from his friends to God. He paints every human life in two pictures: a blossom, and a shadow. One question sits under the poetry. If man is this brief, why does God examine him at all?
These lines close a long speech, and they sound like a funeral song. One writer sets them beside Psalm 90 and points out what is missing.
This speech closes the first round of the debate. Its ending is a most beautiful funeral song about the frailty and uncertainty of human life. Man comes up like a flower, and is cut down and withers. We are listening to the wail of Psalm 90, but without its faith in God, and not yet followed by the triumph of Psalm 91.
The picture is about man as born of woman, not about those born of God. A flower draws admiration for as long as it lasts, and that is not long.
If you are speaking of those who are born of God, is that all you could say? Surely not! To depart is no doubt gain, but to live is well worth while, particularly when Christ is the object... But here it is merely man born of woman, never born of God. "He comes forth like a flower" — for they are all much the same when they are born. So far they are like a flower: an interesting object, no doubt. But how quickly it is fully grown and completely plain. "He comes forth like a flower, and is cut down; he flees also as a shadow, and continues not." You know very well — we all know — that many children die. Death is especially frequent among them.
(Kelly follows an older translation, "is cut down"; the ESV reads "withers.")
"Few days" is not a statement about the calendar. Job himself outlived his suffering by a long stretch, and the verdict still held.
Job himself lived 140 years after his bitter experience. Yet when it was over, it was still only "few days." Like a flower, man comes forth and fades away. Like a shadow he does not continue. Life is that short. So Job wondered why God troubles Himself to bring him to judgment, as he thought God was doing.
Job's life was far longer than ours. Set beside the eternal God, that made no difference.
In the far-off days of Job, human life was perhaps three times longer than it is today. Yet it was after all "of few days," and then it was "full of trouble," just as it is today. So seen in the light of the eternal God, he is only like a fading flower or a fleeting shadow. Job knew this about himself. So he knew he could not stand God's inspection, nor stand before Him in judgment.
Later in the chapter Job compares man with a tree. One writer marks where Job's sight stops.
In Job 14 he clearly does not go beyond this present world that he can see. In the bitterness of his spirit he has no sense of resurrection. The tree sprouts now and visibly in this present world; man does not... Job was right, only he did not see beyond, nor did he here know Him who is the resurrection and the life.
Frailty is the whole subject of the verse. One writer shows what God did about it.
The flower attracts the eye, and no sooner charms with interest than it fades away for ever. Such is man — all men, without exception... Man is not only sinful, unclean and corrupt, but weak and without continuance, for he passes away. Rich or poor, high or low, in this there is no difference... Still it is a blessing to remember that Jesus died for weak and frail ones. For it is written: "while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly."
- Frail — Job ends the first round of debate with a funeral song: a flower that fades, a shadow that will not stay.
- Few — "Few days" is a verdict, not a number. Job lived 140 more years, and it still counted as few.
- Faded — Set beside the eternal God, man is a fading flower. Job knew he could not stand God's inspection.
- Faithless — This is Psalm 90's lament without Psalm 90's faith in God. Job's eye stops at the world he can see. He does not yet know the One who is the resurrection and the life.
- For the frail — Weakness is not the end of the story. It is why Christ died: "while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly."
Yet dost thou open thine eyes upon such a one, and bringest me into judgment with thee?
Job has just described how short and fragile human life is. Now he turns to God with a question that is half complaint and half plea: if a man's days are already so few and so hard, why watch him so closely and bring him to court?
Job is not describing a believer here. "Born of woman" marks out man as a creature only, with no new birth in view.
Here it is simply man born of woman, never born of God — not yet, not until a later chapter — none of these is thought of as born of God… "And do you open your eyes on such a one and bring me into judgment with you? Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean? There is not one." It does not mean "not one person," but "not one thing."
Job's problem is not that he thinks himself sinless. He measures his own brief life against the God who never ends, and he already knows how that inspection would go.
In Job's far-off days human life was perhaps three times longer than it is today. Yet his life was still "few of days," and then it was "full of trouble," just as it is today. So, seen in the light of the eternal God, man is only like a fading flower or a passing shadow. Job knew this about himself, so he knew he could not stand God's inspection, or stand before Him in judgment. He also knew that he was not clean in God's sight, and he was sure no one could produce the clean out of the unclean.
Job's question is true as far as it goes. But he does not stay with it; he turns from the truth he has just spoken and asks God to look away.
But how sadly true verses 1 and 2 are! And will the mighty God enter into judgment with such a frail creature — not only frail, but impure by nature! Ah, let Job weigh his own words well. Instead he moves on in self-pity, begging to be left alone for a while, until like a hired worker he finishes his day! (verses 3-6).
Behind the question lies an assumption of Job's own. He is sure he already knows what God is doing with him.
Because life is so short, Job wondered why God troubles Himself to bring him to judgment, as he thought God was doing.
Job's instinct is sound. No one can afford to be brought into judgment with God. The believer's answer is not to deny that verdict but to accept it in advance.
But first let us recognize that we are all subject to condemnation, and in ourselves liable to judgment as responsible to God… The Christian has, through grace, anticipated this. He has recognized by divine teaching that condemnation is his own portion. He knows that in him, that is, in his flesh, nothing good lives. He has said in spirit, "Enter not into judgment with your servant, for no one living is righteous before you" [older translations: "no man living shall be justified"].
What keeps the chapter so dark is the horizon. Job reasons only about this present world, where a felled tree can sprout but a dead man cannot.
In Job 14, he does not go beyond this present world of sight, and in his bitterness of spirit he has no sense of resurrection… Job was right, but he did not see beyond it, and here he did not know Him who is the resurrection and the life.
Job asks the question as though God's eye on him were hostile. By the end of the book, that same light has done what his friends could not do.
Man was never so exposed as a sinner as in the presence of the Son of God, and yet who was so attractive to the sinner?… In the presence of the light of God Job goes down in self-judgment. He says, "I despise myself." When his three friends had said all they had to say, his confidence in himself was still unshaken. He felt himself to be morally superior to them. But the light of God brought him down: "now my eye sees You" was what killed the sinful pride of his heart.
- Frail — man here is "born of woman," not born of God. He is a fading flower and a passing shadow. Nothing clean comes out of an unclean source.
- Exposed — Job knows he could not survive God's inspection. His own words condemn the self-defence he keeps making.
- Mistaken — he treats God's eye on him as a summons to court, and begs to be left alone.
- Answered — if God enters into judgment, no one living stands. Grace lets a person own that verdict now instead of meeting it later.
- Broken open — the eye Job wanted turned away was the very thing that brought him down, until he could say, "now my eye sees You."
Who can bring a clean [man] out of the unclean? Not one!
Job is answering his friends, and here he turns to God with a question that leaves him no way out. It confesses where he came from, and it raises a further question: does God have an answer Job could not yet see?
Job asks and answers in the same breath. One writer notes that the answer reaches wider than we might first read.
"Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean? There is not one." It does not mean, "not one person," but "not one thing." I say this only so that it is understood.
The picture behind the words is a spring and the stream that flows from it.
This leads him to a wider view of man's sad and frail condition, but still with his own case clearly before his eyes. If the fountain is corrupt, no one need wonder that its stream is foul.
Job has just described how short and troubled human life is. Now he adds uncleanness to frailty as a second reason for God to leave him alone.
But how sadly true are verses 1, 2! And will the mighty God enter into judgment with such a frail creature — not only frail but impure by nature! Ah, let Job ponder well his own words. But he passes on in self-pity to beg that he be let alone for a little, until as a hired man he completes his day (verses 3-6).
Writers read this line as a principle, not a mood. The whole race takes what it has from its head.
The first man was also, in a very real way, the representative of his race. This was not by any formal covenant made for his descendants, of which Scripture has no trace, but because God Himself made him the head of the race. Scripture states this in the plainest possible way. "Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean?" expresses the law. "Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me." And the Lord affirms the principle in the strongest terms: "That which is born of the flesh is flesh."
The same law explains why each new child adds to the world's evil — and why that is not the whole story.
Through the woman death had come in, and through the woman life comes in, but the life she brings in carries the taint of its origin: "who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean?" asks Job. We must answer with him: by nature, "not one." So the truth taught here is that human increase means human defilement. Every child born into the world only adds to the evil in it. But this does not stand alone: we also see that "where sin increased, grace abounded all the more."
Job's "not one" holds for every child of Adam. Writers point to one birth where God did what Job said no one could do.
God completely shut out the poison that sin had put into human nature in every other case. So the Lord Jesus was born of the woman, not of the man... The power of the Highest overshadowed His mother from the start, and only in this way was "that holy thing" born of her at the right time. "Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean? There is not one," Job 14. This, and far more than this, was "that holy thing" which was born of the virgin. With God nothing is impossible.
The same writer sets His birth beside the new birth.
In His person human nature was cleansed from its defilement, and God did what Job declared impossible for man — brought forth a clean thing out of an unclean (Job 14:4). At His birth He was what we become at new birth, but without any taint of evil, perfect in all things — yes, the Eternal Life itself.
One writer names what Job's question could not reach:
"Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean? There is not one." This is impossible for any human being. Yet God is able to purify man's hearts, cleansing them through the blood of Jesus Christ (1 Jn. 1:7), by faith (Rom. 3:25). But this is found only in the New Testament, so Job did not understand such a marvellous gospel.
- Source — The verse states a law about origins: a corrupt fountain gives a foul stream. "Not one" means not one thing, not just not one person.
- Reach — The law covers every descendant of Adam, the head God made for the race. Each birth adds to the evil; none takes away from it.
- Deadlock — Job pleads his impurity as a reason for God to look away from him. The plea leaves him with no hope in himself.
- Exception — God did the one thing Job called impossible. By the power of the Highest, "that holy thing" was born of the virgin, untainted, though of a fallen race.
- Outcome — A clean thing did come out of an unclean. So God cleanses hearts through the blood of Jesus Christ, by faith — the gospel Job had not yet been shown.
If his days are determined, if the number of his months is with thee, [and] thou hast appointed his bounds which he must not pass,
Job speaks these words in the middle of his suffering. He describes a life that is short and already measured out before it begins. Job never doubts that God fixes the limits of every human life. What he does with that fact is where the trouble starts.
Job's picture of man in this chapter is a flower cut down and a shadow that does not stay. The days themselves are the point: God counts them, not us. One writer draws out a double truth here. Human life feels unstable, yet God has settled all of it.
Here it is simply man born of woman, never born of God... "He comes out like a flower, and is cut down; he flees like a shadow, and does not last." You know very well — we all know — that many children die. Death is most frequent there... "Since his days are determined, and the number of his months is with you, and you have appointed his limits that he cannot pass." So it is all uncertain — a shaky position as far as man is concerned — but God has settled all of it.
Because man's days are few, his life must end, and God decides when. Another writer presses past that fact with a question the verse does not answer.
Man has few days. His life in this world must end in death, and God decides the time when he goes, as verse 5 states. But what then? Job felt he was just like a hired worker putting in his day, and he wished that God would give him rest until the end came. But again, what then?
In the next line Job asks God to look away from him. That plea can be taken two ways. One commentator asks what Job really wanted from the God who set his limits.
He recognises that God has determined the length of a man's life, and man cannot overstep his limits. But why did Job not fully submit at this time to the greater work of God? Why did he strain against the limits God had placed him under? (v.5). "Look away from him that he may rest," Job says. Did he mean he wanted God to relax the limits, so he could rest comfortably? For he was only like a hired man: could he not finish his day's work in peace?
Job's speech ends here, and the first round of the debate ends with it. Another writer measures Job's closing words against two psalms.
The close of this speech brings the first round of the debate to an end. It is a most beautiful funeral song about the frailty and uncertainty of human life. Man comes up like a flower, and is cut down and withers. We are listening to the cry of Psalm 90, but without its faith in God, and not yet followed by the triumph of Psalm 91.
Job draws his limit at the grave, and in this chapter he does not look past it. One writer says Job is right as far as his sight goes.
In Job 14 he clearly does not look past this present world of sight. In the bitterness of his spirit he has no sense of resurrection. The tree sprouts now, and visibly, in this present world — man does not... Job was right, only he did not see beyond, nor here know Him who is the resurrection and the life.
The same hand that sets the boundary reaches past it.
Our coming into the world is completely under God's control. And once we are born, our life is in His hand. Death, too, answers to His will... He is "the sovereign Lord of life and death." He kills; death is His black-winged messenger... He "makes alive," and "brings up" from the grave. Resurrection is the sovereign act of His power.
- Determined. God counts your days. Your months are already with Him — uncertain to you, settled with Him.
- Bounded. The limit is real: life in this world must end, and the timing of that end is God's decision, not yours.
- Contested. Job accepts the limit but strains against it. He asks God to look away instead of fully submitting to Him.
- Incomplete. His cry is as honest as Psalm 90 about frailty, but it never reaches Psalm 90's faith. In this chapter he sees nothing past the grave.
- Answered. The One who fixes the boundary also crosses it: He kills and makes alive, and resurrection is the act of His own power.
Look away from him; and let him rest, till he accomplish, as a hireling, his day.
Job has just said that God counts a man's days and sets limits no one can pass. Now he asks only to be left alone, like a hired worker finishing his day — which raises the question behind the whole chapter: when the day ends, what then?
Job asks God to look away from him, so that the days he has left can pass quietly. One writer ties the plea to the limits Job has just admitted:
His short span of life is all in God's hands. So why not look away and give him a little relief, so that he may enjoy his day like a hired worker? All the more so, since life on earth closes for man with no hope. A tree that is cut down may sprout again. But man is like water that drains away and dries up: he lies down and rises no more, as long as the heavens last.
Another writer questions what Job really wanted from God:
Why did Job not fully submit at this time to God's greater work, instead of fretting against the limits God had placed him under? (v.5). "Look away from him that he may rest," Job says. Did he mean he wanted God to relax the limits, so he could rest comfortably? For he was only like a hired man: could he not finish his day's work in peace?
The comparison is not flattering. A hired servant stood outside the household:
These were different from the house servants, who were usually slaves. A hired servant was taken on for the day and paid at the end of it. A servant hired by the priest did not count as one of the family, and could not eat the holy food. The slaves, by contrast, counted as part of the family.
So Job casts himself as a man hired for a single day, paid at sundown, and outside the family circle.
One writer hears in the plea the voice of a man turned in on himself:
But how sadly true are verses 1, 2! And will the mighty God enter into judgment with such a frail creature — not only frail, but impure by nature! Ah, let Job ponder well his own words. But he goes on in self-pity, begging to be left alone for a while, until he finishes his day like a hired worker! (verses 3-6).
The same writer sets the whole speech beside two psalms:
The close of this address ends the first round of the debate. It is a most beautiful funeral song about the frailty and uncertainty of human life. Man comes up like a flower, and is cut down and withers. We are listening to the wail of the 90th psalm, but without its faith in God, and not yet followed by the triumph of the 91st psalm.
Job's plea assumes this day is all there is. Another writer presses the obvious question twice:
Man being of few days, his life in this world must end in death, and the time when he goes is determined by God, as verse 5 states. But, what then? Job felt he was just like a hired man filling out his day, and he wished that God would give him rest until the end came. But again, what then?
That silence is not error, only limited light:
In Job 14 he clearly does not look beyond this present world of sight. In the bitterness of his spirit he has no sense of resurrection. The tree sprouts again, here and now, in this present world — man does not… Job was right. He simply did not see beyond, and he did not yet know Him who is the resurrection and the life.
The same image can also become a way to live:
Everything around us is an empty show, but what is inside lasts. When the heart takes hold of this fact, it becomes like someone brought into a house to work for the day. He does the work well, but he passes through instead of settling into the circumstances… May the Lord keep us going on in simplicity, doing our day's work like a hired worker, until Christ comes — and then each one will receive his praise from God.
- The day — Job asks God to look away so he can finish his short life quietly, like a worker seeing out his shift.
- The wage — a hired servant was taken on for one day, paid at sundown, and never part of the family. That is how Job sees himself before God.
- The lament — his words on human frailty are true, yet they come as self-pity; it is the sorrow of Psalm 90 without its faith.
- The limit — "what then?" is the question Job cannot answer. He does not yet see past this world to resurrection.
- The turn — the same picture becomes a good way to live. Do the day's work well, pass through instead of settling down, and wait for Christ.
For there is hope for a tree if it be cut down, it will sprout again, and its tender branch will not cease;
Job is near the end of a long reply to his friends. He points to something anyone can check: a tree that is cut down and grows back. Does a person get the same second chance? Commentators call Job's answer honest but incomplete.
Job's reply ends with a comparison between man and a tree.
He closes his answer (Job 14) with wider thoughts on man's miserable lot in this world. Man is frail and faulty by nature, with no hope of coming back to life here — unlike a tree, which can sprout again however low it is cut down.
Job had watched this happen over years.
He started to reason the matter out. He took the example of a tree that had been cut down, its root long in the earth. He had watched the years pass, and the stump left behind had begun to decay. Yet a change came. Something happened. Perhaps an earth tremor cracked the rocks and opened a fresh channel for water to reach its roots. As a result, the dead tree came to life and sprouted again. The hope of Job was that something like that lay before mankind.
Job saw something true here, but he could not see past it.
In Job 14, he does not go beyond this present world of sight, and in the bitterness of his spirit he has no sense of resurrection. The tree sprouts now, here where we can see it — man does not, and never will, unless by a miracle, as with Lazarus. Death has passed fully on him as someone who lives in this world — a child of Adam. Such life he never recovers. Job was right, only he did not see beyond, nor here know Him who is the resurrection and the life.
The mystery lies on the other side of the comparison. One writer points to the part of man that is not the body:
There was no mystery about the tree, but there was about the human race. Like the tree stump, the body of man wasted away in the ground. Yet no sign of continuing life appeared, as it did when the young shoots sprang from the old roots of the tree. Still, Job realised that man is made of more than body, for he spoke of his spirit, and this is what puzzled him.
The chapter records a man reasoning in the dark, and some quote it as if it settled doctrine.
That is the language of man apart from revelation. It is the expression of one who is in darkness and uncertainty. Teachers of error often quote Job and the words of his friends to defend false teachings such as soul-sleep and the annihilation of the wicked, as if these were true revelations from God. But their words are only the expressions of the human mind, and often false and misleading. What Job and his friends said is recorded in an inspired account that cannot fail, yet revelation is a different matter altogether.
Yet Job does not stop where despair usually stops.
People very often stop there, but the Spirit of God does not stop there in Job. It is plain that he says what Scripture fully backs — "till the heavens are no more." That is a remarkable phrase. We might have expected "till the earth is no more," which would be natural enough. But man lives and dies, and does not rise — not till the earth is no more, but "till the heavens are no more he will not awake or be roused out of his sleep."
The same figure is later picked up for a whole nation, and there the hope proves real.
Does this mean that Israel can never be restored? No, it does not. For a tree may die, so that in its first state it bears fruit no more. Yet "there is hope for a tree, if it be cut down, that it will sprout again, and that its shoots will not cease. Though its root grow old in the earth, and its stump die in the soil" (Job 14:7-8). Israel will rise again in a different state from the one that brought her to ruin. This will truly be "life from the dead" (Romans 11:15).
- Cut down. Job argues from something he had watched. A tree was cut down, its stump decayed for years, then water reached it and it sprouted again.
- Contrast. The tree comes back where all can see it. A man does not, and that silence pressed on Job. He had not yet met the One who is the resurrection and the life.
- Caution. These are the words of a man reasoning without revelation. The record is inspired, but his words are not settled teaching about the dead.
- Crack of light. Job says man will not wake "till the heavens are no more" — not the earth, but the heavens. The phrase is larger than the despair around it.
- Confirmation. The same cut-down tree pictures a nation reduced to nothing and sprouting again. The hope Job could only reach for turns out to be real.
Though its root grow old in the earth, and its stock die in the ground,
A cut-down tree can sprout again, even after long years in the ground. Job asks whether a dying man has the same prospect — and how far his own answer reached.
This is no fresh cut. The tree is long past the point where anyone would expect anything from it — and then a change comes.
He took the picture of a tree that had been cut down, its root long in the earth. He had watched the years pass, until the stump left behind began to decay. Yet a change came. Something happened — an earth tremor may have cracked the rocks and opened a fresh channel for water to reach its roots. Then the dead tree came to life and sprouted again. Job's hope was that something like that lay ahead for mankind.
The picture exposes a gap. A plant can lose everything above ground and still rise. For this life, a man cannot.
"Though its root grow old in the earth, and its stump die in the soil, yet at the scent of water it will bud and put out branches like a young plant. But a man dies and is laid low." There is no hope for him in this earthly life; he dies and is done with. A plant, on the other hand, may be brought down to the worst and nothing appear, and yet it may shoot up again, especially if there is water to help it.
Job's sight here stops at the world in front of him.
In Job 14, he does not go beyond this present world of sight, and in the bitterness of his spirit he has no sense of resurrection. The tree sprouts now, in plain view, in this present world. Man does not, and in fact never will, unless by a miracle, as with Lazarus. Death has wholly passed upon him as a dweller in this world — a child of Adam. Such life he never recovers. Job was right, only he did not see beyond, nor here know Him who is the resurrection and the life.
Job speaks here in the dark, and that changes how his words should be used.
He speaks of man who "lies down and rises not." That is the language of man apart from revelation. It is the expression of one who is in darkness and uncertainty. Teachers of error often quote Job and the sayings of these friends to defend false teachings — such as soul-sleep, or the annihilation of the wicked — as if these were true revelations from God. But their words are only the expressions of the human mind, and often false and misleading.
Commentators differ on how much Job himself grasped. Some read the tree as a contrast that defeats him. Others read it as a likeness he failed to press home.
Yet the fact is this. Though man's body decays completely in the grave, the new sprouting of a tree is a comparison, not a contrast, to the eventual "sprouting" of a new body from the old. Man's resurrection is longer delayed, but it is just as certain. Job knew this, as he says in chapter 19:26. But in chapter 14 he is too concerned about the immediate future to give proper weight to the distant future.
One writer takes the old root and the dead stump beyond one man's grave, to a whole nation.
Job can say, "There is hope for a tree, if it be cut down, that it will sprout again … though its root grow old in the earth … yet at the scent of water it will bud and put out branches" (Job 14:7-9). Israel has indeed failed. The tree has been battered by wind and storm among the nations, but the root remains, so Israel will bud and bring forth branches again.
Job had to reason his way to hope from a tree stump. Readers now start from somewhere else.
People in Old Testament times believed that the soul of man survived death and that resurrection lay ahead. Job's words here show it, and the Lord made it plain when He argued with the Sadducees of His day. What God had not yet made known was that for the saint resurrection will mean entering a new and incorruptible order of things. Our Lord showed this when He rose from the dead. So we have no need to discuss the matter and reason it out, as Job does here. God has plainly revealed the whole truth of it.
- The root. An aged root and a decayed stump still hold life; water reaches them, and the dead tree sprouts.
- The gap. What the root has, man does not have in this world — he dies and is laid low, with no new spring to follow.
- The dark. Job speaks apart from revelation. Scripture records his words exactly, but they are not God's doctrine.
- The dispute. Some read the tree as a contrast that leaves Job hopeless. Others read it as a comparison: a resurrection just as certain, only longer delayed.
- The answer. The root remains for Israel. For the saint, Christ's resurrection has made the whole truth plain — nothing left to reason out from a stump.
Yet through the scent of water it will bud, and put forth boughs like a young plant.
Job looks at a felled tree and finds a strange comfort in it. The stump lies dead for years, then water reaches the root and green shoots appear. Then he turns the picture against himself: a man does not come back the way that tree does.
Job is not inventing a symbol. He had watched it happen, and the change came from outside the stump.
He took the analogy of a tree, which had been felled, when its root had been in the earth for a long time. He had seen the years pass, so that the stump left behind had begun to decay. Yet a change had come. Something had happened. Perhaps an earth-tremor had cracked the rocks and opened a fresh channel for water to reach its roots. Then, as a result, the dead tree came to life and sprouted again. Job's hope was that something like that lay ahead for mankind.
The tree is only half the argument. Job puts it beside man, and the comparison collapses at once.
"But man dies, and wastes away." There is no hope for him in this earthly life; he dies and that is the end of it. A plant, on the other hand, may be brought down to the worst state and show nothing. Yet it can shoot up again, especially if there is water to help it. "Yes, man gives up his spirit, and where is he?"
In this chapter Job reasons from what he can see, and no further.
In Job 14 he clearly does not go beyond this present world of sight. In his bitterness of spirit he has no sense of resurrection. The tree sprouts now, and it sprouts in plain sight in this present world. Man does not, and in fact never will, unless by a miracle, as Lazarus was raised. Death has wholly passed upon him as an inhabitant of this world, a child of Adam. Such life he never recovers. Job was right; only he did not see beyond, nor did he know here the One who is the resurrection and the life.
A tree's revival can be seen. A buried man shows nothing. That gap is where Job's question comes from.
There was no mystery about the tree, but there was about the human race. Like the tree stump, the body of man wasted away in the ground. But there was no evidence of continuing life, as there was when young shoots sprang from the old roots of the tree. Still, Job realised that man is made of more than body. He spoke of his spirit, and this was what perplexed him. The body of the man wasted away, but where was the man who lived in that body?
Job's question waited a long time for a plain answer. It came from the Lord Jesus.
Clear, plain teaching about the place a man enters when he dies came only with the Lord Jesus. Job's question was plainly answered by the Lord in Luke 16, where He speaks about the rich man and Lazarus. There we learn what happens to a person who lives without any thought of God. He enters the place of torment when he leaves this world.
Writers also apply the picture to Israel.
The root is the hidden source of life. Christ is the source of spiritual life for every saint of God, and the blessing is sure because the root is perfect. Israel has indeed failed; the tree has been storm-swept and torn among the nations, but the root remains, and so Israel will bud and bring forth branches again.
Another writer names what that reviving water turned out to be in history.
The holy seed was in the people, but they had dwindled to a very small number when the Lord Jesus came. Among them were Zacharias, Elizabeth, Anna, Mary and others who followed Him. But the grace and truth that came by Him was like the scent of water that Job speaks of. There were fine boughs shooting from the stump of Judah.
- Cut down — Job's picture is a felled tree. Its stump has decayed in the ground for years, with nothing showing above the surface.
- Water — what revives it comes from outside: water reaching the root, not strength left in the stump.
- Contrast — the tree sprouts again in this world; man dies and does not. Job's comfort turns into his complaint.
- Question — a stump shows evidence of life; a grave shows none. Job knew man has a spirit, so he asks where the man himself has gone.
- Answer — Job reasoned from nature and could see no further. Clear teaching about life after death came with the Lord Jesus, who is the resurrection and the life.
But a man dieth, and is prostrate; yea, man expireth, and where is he?
Job has just looked at a felled tree that sprouts again from its stump, and the comparison turns bitter. What nature does for timber it does not seem to do for people.
There is no hope for him for this earthly life. He dies and is done with. A plant, on the other hand, may be cut down to the worst state with nothing left showing, and yet it may shoot up again, especially if there is water to help it.
The question is not what happens to the body. Job can watch that. What he cannot trace is the person who lived in it.
There was no mystery about the tree, but there was about the human race. Like the tree stump, the body of man wasted away in the ground. But there was no sign of life going on, as there was when young shoots sprang from the old roots of the tree. Still, Job realised that man was made of more than a body, for he spoke of his spirit, and this is what puzzled him. The body of the man wasted, but where was the man that lived in the body?
Writers note that Job is describing what a man can see from the earth's surface, and no further.
In Job 14, he does not go beyond this present world of sight, and in the bitterness of his spirit he has no sense of resurrection. The tree sprouts now, in plain view, in this present world. Man does not, and in fact never will, unless by a miracle, as with Lazarus. Death has fully passed on him as a dweller in this world — a child of Adam. He never gets that life back. Job was right, only he did not see beyond, nor did he know here Him who is the resurrection and the life.
That difference matters when someone builds a teaching about death on this verse.
That is the language of man apart from revelation. It is the expression of one who is in darkness and uncertainty. Teachers of errors — soul-sleep, the wiping out of the wicked, and so on — often quote Job and the words of these friends to defend their false teachings. They treat them as if they were true revelations from God. But their words are only the expressions of the human mind, and often false and misleading. Scripture gives an unfailing inspired record of what Job and his friends said, but revelation is a different matter altogether.
Job asked; later Scripture replies. The answer is not the same for everyone.
The Lord answered Job's hard question in Luke 16:19–31 and Luke 23:43, and Paul answered it through the Spirit in 2 Corinthians 5:1–8 and Philippians 1:23. For the believer, death means entry into Christ's presence in the heavenly paradise. For the unbeliever, it means entry into hell with all its torments.
Spoken at a graveside, the same reply becomes personal:
Justified and right with God as he was, he has died. That raises another question about him, and we read it in Job 14:10. We may well echo that second question, for we are not left in any doubt about the answer. For this we turn to 2 Corinthians 5:8: "Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord." That is where our brother is, WITH THE LORD.
Commentators differ on what Job's picture proves. One reading turns the contrast around: the stump was closer to man's case than Job realised.
Yet here is the fact. Man's body decays completely in the grave, but the fresh sprouting of a tree is a comparison, not a contrast, to the "sprouting" of a new body from the old in the end. Man's resurrection takes longer to come, but it is just as certain. Job knew this, as he says in chapter 19:26. In chapter 14, though, he is too taken up with the near future to give proper weight to the distant future.
One writer finds both resurrections in the book — the just in chapter 19, and the unjust in these verses.
Job had the resurrection of the just before him (Job 19:25-27), and no less the resurrection of the unjust (Job 14:10-12). The first is tied to the Kinsman Redeemer standing up on the last day on this earth of dust. The second is tied to a day when even the heavens are no more.
- The question. A felled tree sprouts again; the man who dies wastes away and leaves no visible trace — so Job asks where he has gone.
- The limit. Job speaks of this world of sight, and speaks in bitterness. He was right about what he could see, and saw no further.
- The warning. These are a man's words, not revelation. Nobody can build soul-sleep or the wiping out of the wicked on them.
- The answer. Later Scripture replies: for the believer, death is entry into Christ's presence; for the unbeliever, entry into hell.
- The certainty. The sprouting stump turns out to be a picture, not a contradiction. Resurrection takes longer, but it is just as sure.
The waters recede from the lake, and the river wasteth and drieth up
A cut-down tree can sprout again, but Job says a man's life drains away like water from a lake. The image raises the book's hardest question — is death simply the end of a man, and if not, when does he come back?
Job sets a cut-down tree beside a dying man, and the tree comes off better. One writer traces the logic of the picture and the sharp turn at the end of it.
"Though the root grows old in the earth, and the stock dies in the ground; yet through the scent of water it will bud, and bring forth boughs like a plant. But man dies, and wastes away." There is no hope for him for this earthly life; he dies and is done with. A plant is different. It may be brought down to its worst, with nothing showing, and yet it may shoot up again, especially if water helps it.
The same writer notes elsewhere that Job is speaking about man as he stands on earth, and that within those limits his words hold exactly.
And the more, as life on earth closes for man hopelessly, though a tree cut down may sprout again, while, like waters that fail and dry up, man lies down, and rises no more while the heavens last. He speaks of "man" for this world, and nothing can really be conceived more exact.
Job sets a time limit on this sleep: the end of the heavens. One writer matches that with a scene in Revelation.
This is man — the prey of sorrow, decay and death, with no ray of divine light, till all ends in utter gloom. But it is not actual extinction. Yet it is a "sleep" only broken when "the heavens are no more." How striking the agreement with Revelation 20:11! This resurrection comes after the resurrection of the blessed and holy, who reign with Christ. It comes only when the thousand years of their reign are over.
The same writer notes which end Job names, and which he does not.
Many people stop there, but the Spirit of God, speaking here through Job, does not... We might have expected "till the earth is no more," which would be natural and easy to understand. But man lives and dies, and does not rise — not till the earth is no more, but till the heavens are no more.
Some read this verse to mean that the dead stop existing. One writer answers that Job's own words say the opposite.
But what is that sleep? That he cannot tell you. He only uses words that fit a man who knows nothing of the other world, or of the state between death and resurrection. Those words certainly do not say the dead have ceased to exist. They imply the opposite. When I say they shall not rise, they shall not awake or arise out of their sleep, these words assume someone who is asleep. He will not wake till a set time. It is not a statement of non-existence, but the contrary... Job does not tell me what becomes of his soul in the meantime, and I do not expect him to. The Lord tells me it is not destroyed with the body. The apostle uses this same word "sleep," adding "in Jesus" for the saints, who have their gain in death, because He receives their spirits.
How should we rate what Job says here? One writer places it between faith and unbelief, and points to fuller light elsewhere in the Old Testament.
He lies down and rises no more, so long as earth and heaven remain. This is not exactly the language of unbelief, nor yet of faith. It is one speaking as a man, and of things upon earth... Thank God, even in the Old Testament there was more light.
Another writer puts it more sharply. Job's sight stops at this world, and his grief leaves him no thought of rising:
In Job 14 he clearly does not go beyond this present world of sight. In the bitterness of his spirit he has no sense of resurrection. The tree sprouts now and visibly in this present world — man does not... Job was right, only he did not see beyond, nor here know Him who is the resurrection and the life.
Job does not stay in this darkness. Later in the book he speaks of a Redeemer, and one writer draws out how much Job knew when he said it.
His wondrous words were "written" — yes, "printed in a book"... A "Redeemer" should one day stand upon the earth. Job knew this; and that, though his body should become the food of worms, yet in his flesh he should see God. He knew that he should die, and rise again... His memorable words are written in the BOOK OF BOOKS forever. So they give us the first clear statement of a life beyond the death that man's sin brought in.
- Picture — A felled tree buds again when water reaches it. A man does not. What drains away does not come back by itself.
- Limit — Job speaks of man as he stands on earth, and inside that limit he is right: this life, once ended, does not start again.
- Clock — He dates the waking not by the earth's end but by the heavens' end, which matches the scene of Revelation 20:11.
- Sleep — "Sleep" assumes a sleeper. Job denies a rising now, not continued existence; the soul is not destroyed with the body.
- Light — Job's sight here stops at this world, and his grief leaves no thought of rising. But the book does not stop here. He later says he will see God in his own flesh.
So man lieth down, and riseth not again; till the heavens be no more, they do not awake, nor are raised out of their sleep.
Job has just compared a man with a felled tree: the stump can smell water and sprout again, but a man who dies wastes away. Verse 12 draws the conclusion, and the surprise lies in its second half — the limit Job sets on the sleep of the dead.
The verse ends a comparison that runs against man. A tree cut to the ground still holds a future in its roots; human life on earth does not.
"But man dies, and wastes away." There is no hope for him for this earthly life; he dies and is done with. A plant on the contrary may be brought down to the worst and nothing appear, and yet it may shoot up again, particularly if there is water to help it.
Job is speaking about man's standing in this present world, and that limit is deliberate.
He speaks of "man" for this world, and nothing could be more exact. It was not the time or place to introduce the special blessedness of the first resurrection, which we shall find has its echo elsewhere in this book. Every scripture is given by inspiration, and consistent with every other.
Most people stop reading at "rises not." The second half of the verse is where the weight falls, and the choice of word is odd enough to demand attention.
There people very often stop, but not so the Spirit of God here by Job. For it is plain here he really does say what Scripture fully warrants — "till the heavens be no more." A very remarkable expression. It might have been thought to be — and that we could easily understand as a natural thing — "till the earth be no more"; but man lives and dies, and does not rise — not till the earth be no more, but — "till the heavens be no more, they shall not awake, nor be raised out of their sleep."
Job elsewhere speaks of seeing his Redeemer stand on the earth. Here he speaks of a different waking — of man generally, at the far end of everything.
Yet it is certain that in Job 14:12 Job speaks of man's resurrection (i.e., of man, as such) when the heavens are no more and eternity begins, contrasted with the rising of the righteous like himself, to enjoy their hope when the Kinsman-Redeemer shall stand on the earth, which is clearly for the kingdom.
The last book of the Bible sets the two events in the same order Job gives.
Commentators differ here. One writer weighs the line against how long the wait felt to Job.
This is an exaggeration because the time seemed so long to Job, as though death was the end of everything.
Others place it between the two extremes — neither despair nor confession.
He lies down and rises no more, so long as earth and heaven remain. This is not exactly the language of unbelief, nor yet of faith. It is one speaking as a man, and of things upon earth.
The verse is a favourite text for those who argue the dead are simply extinguished. One writer answers that granting the words in full does not grant the conclusion drawn from them.
But you chiefly rely on Job 14:12: nor are you singular… Thus speaks Job: "Man lies down and rises not till the heavens be no more, they shall not awake, nor be raised out of their sleep." And if they do not, what does that prove? I believe that fully; but I would remark, that we cannot take all that Job says in the vexation of his spirit as revelations, any more than all his friends say, who did not speak rightly of God as he did.
Whatever Job's grasp of the timing, the added clause carries him past the grave — and the verses that follow show him waiting rather than despairing.
- Tree — a felled tree can sprout again; a man who dies has no hope left for this earthly life. Job describes man in this world; he does not shut the door on eternity.
- Heavens — the clock Job sets is startling. He does not say "till the earth be no more," but the heavens — a limit that reaches past every earthly hope.
- Which waking — commentators read this as the raising of man as such at the end of all things. It is not the rising of the righteous to see their Redeemer stand on the earth.
- Confirmed — Revelation 20 keeps Job's order. Heaven and earth pass away, then the dead, small and great, stand raised at the great white throne.
- Waiting — commentators differ over whether Job spoke prophecy or overstatement in his pain. But sleep supposes a sleeper who will wake, and Job waits for God's appointed time until his change comes. Death is not the end.
Oh that thou wouldest hide me in Sheol, that thou wouldest keep me secret until thine anger be past, that thou wouldest appoint me a set time, and remember me, --
Job has just argued that a cut-down tree can sprout again, but a dying man cannot. Worn out and sure that God is angry with him, he asks for the only shelter he can imagine: the grave, with a promise that God will come back for him.
Job asks God to store him away and to fix a date for his return. That wish leads him straight to the question of whether a dead man lives again. Where the ESV says "Sheol", the older translation these writers quote says "the grave" — the place of the dead.
Job then goes back to what he longs for. He asks God to hide him in the grave till His anger has turned away, to appoint him a time, and then to remember him. If a man dies, shall he live again? Job was the very opposite of a sceptic. He looks for his time of renewal or exchange, and does not doubt, deep down, God's yearning after the work of His hands.
The prayer rests on a wrong belief about why he was suffering.
Job has inferred that death is the end of everything. Even so, he pleads with God that he might die, hoping to be hidden this way until God's anger had subsided. For he thought that his troubles came from the wrath of God (v.13). In this he was totally mistaken. But if he died, would he live again? (v.14) He answered that question himself in chapter 19:26-27. His words here show the confused state he was in, which often made him speak inconsistently.
This belief is what hurt him most.
One thing above all made his grief so sharp. He felt that God's wrath was on him, and that the dreadful poison of God's anger was consuming him. We know he was mistaken. God was chastening His poor servant, and that was only another proof of His love. But he did not know it, and we should not be harsh with one who felt that the Lord was dealing bitterly with him.
The words "appoint me a set time, and remember me" carry more than a wish for relief. They assume God keeps the dead somewhere and comes back for them.
Even though he expected to go to the grave, he could still ask God to hide him, to keep him secret until His wrath was past, to appoint him a set time, and to remember him. Job had some idea that God would keep him in a secret place until He raised his body from the grave. Faith in God had given Job this wonderful knowledge. He would wait in God's secret place, for God's appointed time, until his body was changed.
Where did such words come from?
He recognised that he had an "appointed time," when his "change" would come. He saw that there would be a divine "call," and that he would "answer" it, since he was a "work" of God's hands. In speaking this way he was taught by God, as we can see in the light of the New Testament.
Commentators differ on how much light Job had here. Some see hope in his words.
Job next seems to express a hope — vague and spoiled by evil thoughts of God — of a bright hereafter. He wants to be hidden from God in Sheol until this mighty Being changed His mind and stopped chasing His creature. Then God would look on him with favour; but now He only watched him as an enemy! This is sad beyond words for a man who knew God. But such is unbelief even in a saint. We can catch the gleam of faith in the desire and the question.
Others read the chapter as a man boxed inside what he can see.
In Job 14, he does not go beyond this present world of sight. In his bitterness of spirit he has no sense of resurrection. Job was right, only he did not see beyond, nor did he here know Him who is the resurrection and the life.
How did Job get to any answer at all?
We have the moving record of how he tried to spell out a yes. He reasoned from the picture of a cut-down tree. He did reach the conclusion that death was not the end of men. In the end his change would come, and he would rise in answer to the call of God. Still, at best it was a conclusion he had reached by reasoning and not a plain word of revelation from God.
- Request. Job asks the grave to be a hiding place until God's anger turns, with a set time fixed for his return.
- Error. He read his suffering as wrath; the writers say he was mistaken, and that the chastening was proof of God's love.
- Gleam. Real faith sits inside the wrong belief. God keeps His own in secret, and remembers them at a set time.
- Dispute. Commentators differ. Some hear resurrection hope here. Others hear a man who cannot see past this world.
- Answer. Job reached his hope by reasoning, not by a plain word from God. The New Testament light shows that God Himself had taught him.
(If a man die, shall he live [again]?) all the days of my time of toil would I wait, till my change should come
Job is deep in suffering and looking straight at death. Here he asks the question every mourner asks, and in his day no clear word from God had answered it.
Job raises two great questions with his friends. This is the second of them.
Job put forward two questions of far-reaching importance while talking with his friends. The first — "How can a man be in the right before God?" (Job 9:2). The second — "If a man dies, shall he live again?" (Job 14:14). But no clear and conclusive answer could be given to either one... He believed there would be a resurrection. That belief was the fruit of spiritual insight combined with reason. He had no definite word from God to fall back on to settle the point.
The second half of the verse turns on two terms. William Kelly renders them "warfare" and "exchange", which show a man serving out a hard term of duty and waiting for a swap.
Appoint me a set time, and then remember me! If a man die, shall he live? All the days of my warfare would I wait Till my exchange should come. You would call, and I would answer You: After the work of Your hands You long.
The waiting in the verse has an object. One writer ties it to what Job expects God to do with his body.
He asks the question, "If a man dies, shall he live again?" Then he can say about himself, "All the days of my service I would wait, till my renewal should come" (Job 14:14). Faith in God had given Job this wonderful knowledge: he would wait in God's secret place, for God's appointed time, until his body was changed.
Commentators differ on the tone of the question. William Kelly hears no doubt in it at all.
If a man dies, shall he live again? Job was the very opposite of a sceptic. He looks for his time of renewal or exchange, and does not doubt at bottom that God longs after the work of His hands. Man is surely to live again; spirit, and soul, and body, he will be renewed.
Samuel Ridout hears something more troubled underneath. Job asks to be hidden in Sheol, the place of the dead, and Ridout weighs what he assumes about God.
Job next seems to express a hope of a bright life to come — a hope that is vague, and spoiled by wrong thoughts about God. He wants to be hidden from God in Sheol until this mighty Being had changed His mind and stopped chasing His creature. Job would patiently wait till that change came. Then God would regard him; but now He only watched him with hostility! This is inexpressibly sad, for a man who knew God. But such is unbelief, even in a saint. We can catch the gleam of faith in the desire and the question.
Job does not leave the question open. Later he ties living again to a Redeemer who is Himself alive.
Job is perhaps the only one in the Old Testament who clearly asks this question about the resurrection of the body. He is also the one who answers it, through the Spirit, in Job 19:25, 27. There he speaks the wonderful words: "For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see for myself, and my eyes shall behold, and not another"... The life of the Redeemer is always in the present. He lives forever.
Job's question now has a reply he never heard. One writer answers it from the words of Jesus.
"If a man dies, shall he live again?" Job 14:14. For the answer to this question we turn to John 11:25: "Jesus said to her, 'I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live.'" ... Soon the moment is coming of which we read, "when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is," 1 John 3:2.
The answer is not just information. One writer shows what it does to a life, and what people do to dodge it.
Whoever believes in a resurrection of the dead must arrange his life in the light of eternity. Whoever waits for the "last Adam" will prepare himself to receive Him. But the man who has to fear a reckoning after death often behaves like the ostrich. When it is hunted and sees no escape, it hides (so they say) its head in the sand and denies that the hunter is there.
- Question. Job asks whether death is the end. No plain word from God had settled it yet, so he reasoned his way toward hope.
- Waiting. Job says he will wait through all the days of his service, until God's appointed time.
- Change. What he waits for is a changed body, not mere survival — the same person renewed in spirit, soul and body.
- Redeemer. Commentators differ on whether the question shows faith or faith clouded by wrong thoughts of God. Job answers it himself later: his Redeemer lives, and in his flesh he will see God.
- Answer. Christ's own words settle what Job could only reach for. That certainty should reorder how a person lives now.
Thou wouldest call, and I would answer thee; thou wouldest have a desire after the work of thy hands.
Job has just asked whether a man who dies will live again, and said he would wait until his change came. Here his words turn from waiting to hope — a call from God, an answer from Job, and God's longing for what His own hands made.
Job's friends have told him his suffering must be punishment for sin. Then his tone lifts.
The friends had stung him with reproaches, that his afflictions must be because of sin. Job, unaware of any evil that would warrant such suffering, denies it. God's sovereignty accounts to him for everything. He sees no purpose of grace in God's ways with him. Yet it is clear his soul is gaining ground. He cries out, "Though He slay me, I will hope in Him." A gleam of hope bursts in on his path, for he adds, "You would call, and I would answer You; You would long for the work of Your hands."
Job's question about dying and living again is not the question of a doubter.
Job goes back to what he longs for. He wants God to hide him in the grave until His anger has passed, to set him a time, and then to remember him. If a man die, shall he live? Job was the very opposite of a sceptic. He looks for his time of renewal or exchange, and does not doubt at bottom God's yearning after the work of His hands. Man is surely to live again; spirit, and soul, and body, he will be renewed.
Job's hope rests on what he is: something God made. And that holds for every person, not only for him.
All men are "the work of His hands." God is engaged in a very wise work in dealing with every individual.
Job had no written revelation to lean on. Yet three things stand in his words: a set time, a call, and a reason the call must come.
The words of Job in verses 14 and 15 are very remarkable… He recognised that he had an "appointed time," when his "change" would come. He knew there would be a Divine "call," and that he would "answer" it, because he was a "work" of God's hands. In speaking like this he was taught of God, as we can see in the light of the New Testament.
Commentators differ here. One reads the verse as real faith in resurrection. Another reads the chapter as Job held within what he could see.
In Job 14, Job does not go beyond this present world of sight. In the bitterness of his spirit he has no sense of resurrection. The tree sprouts now, in this present world, where we can see it — man does not… Job was right. He simply did not see beyond, and did not here know Him who is the resurrection and the life.
Job reasons his way toward a hope. We are not left to reason.
Have we ever given enough weight in our souls to what the Apostle Paul says in 2 Timothy 1:10? One translation reads, "Our Saviour Jesus Christ, who has annulled death, and brought to light life and incorruptibility by the glad tidings."… What was not made known was this: for the believer, resurrection will mean entering a new and incorruptible order of things. Our Lord showed this when He rose from the dead. So we have no need to discuss the matter and reason it out, as Job does here. The whole truth of it has been plainly revealed.
The hope in verse 15 is a first flicker. God does not stop there, and why He does not stop is the point of the whole book.
But the Lord does not leave Job until he sees more. He was not just a man looking up to God. He was a man who knew God's love — a love that took him up and chastened him, so that he might be blessed more than ever before. That is the great object of the Book of Job.
- Made — Job's hope rests on being "the work of God's hands"; God is doing a wise work in every individual He deals with.
- Longed for — deep down, Job does not doubt that God yearns after what He made.
- Called — an appointed time, a call from God, an answer from Job. Job grasped all three, taught by God.
- Debated — commentators differ on how far Job saw. One finds real faith in the renewal of spirit, soul and body. Another says Job did not yet know Him who is the resurrection and the life.
- Revealed — what Job reasoned toward, we are given: death annulled, life and incorruptibility brought to light. Behind the chastening is love, aiming at greater blessing than before.
For now thou numberest my steps dost thou not watch over my sin?
Job, worn down by loss and by his friends' arguments, has just dared to imagine a day when God would call and he would answer. Then the mood shifts, and he feels himself under a constant, counting gaze.
Translations differ over the second line of the verse. Older ones read it as a question — "do you not watch over my sin?" — while the ESV reads it as Job's hope that God would not keep watch. The first line Job never disputes: God counts his steps. One writer reads the words as a plain statement about how much God knows.
And so we read, in Job 14:16-17, "For now you number my steps; do you not watch over my sin?" Certainly He does! God knows all!
The two halves of the verse pull against each other. One commentator reads Job as asking God to stop watching what God alone can cover.
He says, "All the days of my service I would wait, till my renewal should come" — that is, wait for death, but not wait patiently! Meanwhile God was numbering Job's steps. But Job did not want Him to watch over his sins. He considered them "sealed up in a bag," out of sight, needing only God Himself to cover them. He was right to think God could do this.
The next verse gives Job's picture for his sin: a bag sewn shut. One writer weighs what that means for the man who carries it.
Yes, there it lies in a bag, or bundle — a great, heavy bundle, too... The smallest bundle of sins is unbearable once it is really felt. Sin's load is leaden! A guilty conscience is a bag of vile filth. It is sealed up, sewed up; you cannot open the bag's mouth and shake out the evil contents. No, they are tightly enclosed, and your tortured conscience has to carry them. No one is so wretched as the one who carries the load of unpardoned sins.
Job dreads a God who watches sin. One writer cites this verse while setting out three truths a repentant person learns before God.
In the presence of the Lord the repentant soul learns three great truths. First, no sinner can stand before God on the ground of his own merit. If the Lord marks iniquities in the sense of observing them, or keeping them in memory so as to punish, there is no hope for man — none can stand (Job 10:14; Job 14:16). Second, if there is no standing before God through our own merits, there is forgiveness through His mercy. Third, if God forgives it is so that He may be feared, and not so that men may think lightly of their sin or of His mercy.
One commentator hears a small turn upward in Job here, and points to where the whole book is heading.
Job turns from this very solemn scene in his mind to call on the Lord. He says, "You would call, and I would answer You; You would long for the work of Your hands." His heart is beginning to get a little courage... But the Lord does not leave Job until he sees more. He was not merely a man looking up to God. He was a man who knew God's love — a love that was taking him up and chastening him, so that he might be blessed more than ever before. That is the great object of the Book of Job.
Job feels God's attention as pressure. Another writer says the same attention turns to joy once we have truly seen God.
His interest is the first thing to consider: "He never withdraws His eyes from the righteous." In his distress, even a Job might find this a painful trial rather than a gain... But Job, with all his outward perfection, had not yet seen God as he was to see Him... How blessed, then, when we have truly seen Him, to know that every step we take in the way matters to Him! — that there is not an hour of the day but He has some thought about how we should spend it!
- Counted. God numbers every step. Job never disputes it: God knows all.
- Sealed. Job pictures his sin sewn shut in a bag — a load the carrier cannot open, empty, or set down.
- Marked. If God kept a record of sins to punish, no one could stand. The answer is not that God stops looking. It is that with Him there is forgiveness.
- Chastened. God does not leave Job until he sees love behind the dealing, taking him up so that he might be blessed more than before.
- Delighted. The unbroken eye that felt like pressure becomes the believer's comfort: every step matters to Him.
My transgression is sealed up in a bag, and thou heapest up mine iniquity.
Job is deep in his reply to his friends. His mind moves from how frail human life is to God's constant watch over him — a watch he pictures as sins tied in a bag and stitched shut. Is God keeping a record against him, or covering what He sees, and what hope does that leave a suffering man?
Older translations differ here: some read the line as a statement rather than a wish, and put the second half as God sewing the iniquity up. One writer takes the bag as guilt a person cannot shake off:
Yes, there it lies in a bag, or bundle — a great, heavy bundle too… The smallest bundle of sins is unbearable once you really feel it. Sin's load is like lead! A guilty conscience is a bag of vile filth. It is sealed up, sewn up; you cannot open the mouth of the bag and shake out the evil contents. No one is so miserable as the person who carries the load of unforgiven sins.
Commentators differ on Job's mood here. Another reads him as hoping his sins are out of sight, with God Himself to cover them:
Meanwhile God was numbering Job's steps, but Job did not want Him to watch over his sins. He considered them "sealed up in a bag," out of sight, needing only God Himself to cover them. He did rightly think God could do this.
Two things stand against a person, not one: what he is by nature, and what he has done. God knows both in full:
We have a nature which, sadly, hates God and could not enjoy His presence. On top of that, we are guilty of sins as well. And He who knows how corrupt our fallen nature is knows also the great number of our sins. We may have forgotten them — He has not!
Job reads his suffering as God's anger and asks for the grave as a hiding place until it passes. One writer says he had it wrong:
Though he has said that death is the end of everything, Job pleads with God that he might die. He thought that death might hide him until God's anger had subsided. For he thought his troubles came from the wrath of God. In this he was totally mistaken. His words show the state of confusion he was in, which caused him to often speak inconsistently.
Another writer finds hope here, mixed with a false picture of God. Sheol is the place of the dead:
Job next seems to express a hope of a bright hereafter — vague, and spoiled by evil thoughts of God. He wants to hide from God in Sheol until this mighty Being had changed His mind and stopped pursuing His creature. Job would wait patiently till that change came. Then God would regard him; but now He only watched him as an enemy! This is unspeakably sad for a man who knew God. But such is unbelief even in a saint. We can catch the gleam of faith in the desire and the question, and know that one day Job will see clearly and regret these words.
The watching Job resents has an aim, and the book will not close until Job sees it:
His heart is beginning to get a little courage… But the Lord does not leave Job until he sees this. He was not just a man looking up to God. He was a man knowing God's love — a love that was taking him up and chastening him so that he might be blessed more than he had ever been before. That is the great object of the Book of Job.
Job could not untie the bag. At the cross God settled the account and closed it:
It does not say that God forgets them, it says He remembers them no more, and the difference is important. I might owe a large bill to a shopkeeper, and he might forget all about it and never present it for payment. That does not cancel the debt. But if he presents it and I pay it, it is finished. He does not send it to me again. He remembers it against me no more. The sins were not forgotten; the full account of them was presented for payment at the cross, and the blood of Jesus has wiped out the dreadful record. Justice is satisfied, and the question will never arise again.
- Sealed — The image is of sin stored and stitched shut, a bundle a person carries and cannot open or empty by himself.
- Seen — Two things stand against us: a nature that hates God, and the sins we have done. We forget them; He does not.
- Suspected — Job treats God's watching as hostility. He wants the grave as a hiding place until the anger cools. He is wrong, though faith still flickers in the wish.
- Sent in love — The watching hand was a chastening hand. It aimed at greater blessing for Job than he had known before, and that is the point of the whole book.
- Settled — At the cross God opened the bag Job could not open. The account came in for payment there, and the blood of Jesus wiped out the record.
And indeed a mountain falling cometh to nought, and the rock is removed out of its place;
Job is closing a long answer, turning from his own case to the state of every man on earth. He pictures erosion — a hillside slipping, a rock shifted from its place — and asks whether God wears man down until his hope runs out.
The subject here is not Job alone but every person born.
He closes his answer (Job 14) with more general thoughts on man's miserable state in this world. Man is frail and faulty by nature, with no hope of reviving in this life. He is unlike a tree, which may sprout again no matter how low it is cut... Meanwhile Job sees no ground of hope. Even the strongest things fall to ruin, and man passes away so fully that he knows nothing of his sons, whether they rise to honour or are brought low.
The wording is a chain of slow losses, each one certain. One writer's rendering carries the chain past our verse to its end point:
And yet a falling mountain decays, And a rock is removed from its place, Waters wear away stones, Its floods sweep away the soil of the earth, And You destroy the hope of man, To the last You overpower him, and he goes; You change his face, and send him away.
Job is not writing nature poetry. He is building a case, and the case is aimed at God.
Job sees more than the fact that man dies. In this life he saw the evidence of God using His power to break man down to the dust. Is this what God thinks of His creation? Does He take pleasure in demolishing the work of His hands?... Why is God not content to let man die? Why must He make him suffer before death?
The mountain in the verse is a portrait of the man speaking. Job had been strong. Now he is the thing on the ground, carried off piece by piece.
Again the darkness shuts down on his soul. Job describes man as a mountain once strong, now flattened and worn away by the rushing waters. Death's shadow falls upon the face once bright and smiling, and we bury our dead out of our sight... A man lives, suffers, groans and dies — and that is all!
Everything Job says about man in this world is true. The problem is that his eye stops at the edge of this world.
In Job 14, he does not look beyond this present world that he can see. In the bitterness of his spirit he has no sense of resurrection. The tree sprouts now and visibly in this present world — man does not... Job was right, only he did not see beyond it, and he did not yet know Him who is the resurrection and the life.
Commentators differ over how much light Job had. Some read his other words as real faith in a resurrection, while agreeing that the full answer had not yet been given. What settled the question was an event, not an argument:
We pause to ask a question. Have we ever thanked God enough that we walk in the light of the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ from the dead?... What God had not yet made known was this: for the believer, resurrection will mean entering a new and incorruptible order of things. Our Lord showed it when He rose from the dead. So we have no need to discuss the matter and reason it out, as Job does here.
Job reads the erosion as God working against him. The book itself reads it the other way, and that is why the story does not stop here.
But the Lord does not leave Job until he sees the truth. He was not simply a man looking up to God. He was a man who knew God's love — a love that was taking him up and chastening him so that he might be blessed more than ever before. That is the great purpose of the Book of Job.
- Erosion. The verse gathers the slowest, surest losses in nature: a mountain slipping, a rock shifted, stone worn by water. They measure out a human life.
- Accusation. Job turns the picture into a question about God. Does He enjoy demolishing the work of His hands? And why must man suffer before he dies?
- Portrait. The worn-down mountain is Job himself: once strong, now flat on the ground. His conclusion is that a man lives, groans, dies, and that is all.
- Limit. What he says of man in this world is true. His mistake is that he stops there. He has no sense of resurrection, and he does not yet know the One who is the resurrection and the life.
- Purpose. God was not wearing Job away to destroy him. He was bringing him to know a love that chastens him, so that He can bless him more than before. That is the whole point of the book.
The waters wear the stones, the floods thereof wash away the dust of the earth; and thou destroyest the hope of man.
Job has been speaking about the tree that sprouts again after it is cut down, and about man who lies down and does not rise. Now he turns to the landscape itself. Mountains crumble, rocks shift, water grinds stone away. In that slow ruin Job sees a picture of what God is doing to him.
Job is not describing a sudden disaster. He is describing wear. One writer sees Job moving from the fact of death to the evidence of God's hand at work long before death arrives.
Not only does Job recognise that man dies, but in this life Job saw the evidence that God was using His power to break man down to the dust. Is this what God thinks of His creation? Does He take pleasure in demolishing the work of His hands? … Why is God not content with letting man die, rather than to make him suffer before death?
Job names the strongest things he knows — mountain, rock, stone — and shows them giving way. Then he puts himself in the same picture.
Darkness closes over his soul again. Job describes man as a mountain that was once strong, but now lies fallen, worn away by the rushing waters. Death's shadow falls upon the face once bright and smiling, and we bury our dead out of our sight. A man's sons come to honour and are brought low, but "the dead know nothing." A man lives, suffers, groans and dies — and that is all!
Job aims the complaint straight at God: You destroy. He has named the right hand. He has misread the motive behind it.
Job sees only power on God's side, God prevailing against man without man having any chance of recovery: man passes on. God changes His expression (from pleasant to depressing) and sends man away, left alone to wander in misery. Yet in reality God was dealing in pure love toward Job, not merely in power.
Much depends on which hope Job means. One writer holds that Job speaks only of this present life, and that within those limits his words are exact.
Life on earth closes hopelessly for man. A tree that is cut down may sprout again. But man is like water that fails and dries up: he lies down and rises no more while the heavens last. He speaks of "man" as belonging to this world, and nothing could be more exact. This was not the time or place to bring in the special blessing of the first resurrection, though we will find an echo of it elsewhere in this book.
Another writer puts it more bluntly. Job is shut inside what he can see here, with no sense of resurrection — right about the facts, but blind to what lies past them.
In Job 14, he clearly does not go beyond this present world of sight, and in the bitterness of his spirit has no sense of resurrection. The tree sprouts again now, in plain sight in this present world — man does not, and in fact never will, unless by a miracle, as with Lazarus. Death has fully passed on him as an inhabitant of this world — a child of Adam. He never gets that life back. Job was right, only he did not see beyond, nor here know Him who is the resurrection and the life.
Earlier in the same chapter Job had asked whether a man who dies will live again. The picture of slow wearing away presses that question, and it stayed open for him.
He did not know how a man could be "just," or "right" with God. He knew that no man could produce that which is clean out of that which is unclean. And now comes the question, "If a man dies, shall he live again?" On this point no clear and decisive light was yet shining before him, or in his heart.
Job's speech stops at ruin. The book does not.
But the Lord does not leave Job until he sees more. He was not just a man looking up to God. He was a man who knew God's love — a love that was taking him up and chastising him, so that he might be blessed more than he had ever been before. That is the great object of the Book of Job.
- Erosion. Job's image is wear, not a sudden blow — mountain, rock, stone and soil all give way slowly, and he puts himself in that line.
- Power. Job traces the wearing to God's hand, and he is right: man has no power to reverse it.
- Love. What he misses is the motive: he sees only power on God's side, while God was dealing with him in love.
- Limit. The hope God destroys here is hope for this present life. Job's question about living again stayed open in his heart.
- Purpose. The wearing down was not God's last word. The book ends with Job knowing the love behind it, and blessed more than before.
Thou prevailest for ever against him, and he passeth away; thou changest his countenance, and dismissest him.
Job's reply to his friends ends with a man overpowered, changed beyond recognition, and then dismissed. Two hard questions follow. Is God dealing with man in nothing but raw power? And is the sending away the last word?
One commentator follows the verse step by step, and then names what Job could not see in it:
Job sees only power on God's side, God prevailing against man without man having any chance of recovery: man passes on. God changes His countenance (from pleasant to depressing) and sends man away (v.20), left alone to wander in misery. Yet in reality God was dealing in pure love toward Job, not merely in power.
The verses just before this one compare man to a mountain that falls and stone worn down by water. That imagery carries straight into the changed face of verse 20:
Again the darkness shuts down upon his soul, and Job describes man as a mountain once strong, but now fallen and worn away by the rushing waters. Death's shadow falls upon the face once bright and smiling, and we bury our dead out of our sight.
Job is not exaggerating about this life. A tree sprouts again; man does not. What limits Job is not accuracy but range:
In Job 14, he clearly does not go beyond this present world of sight, and in the bitterness of his spirit has no sense of resurrection. The tree sprouts now, where we can see it, in this present world. Man does not, and in fact never will, unless by a miracle, as with Lazarus. Death has come fully upon him as an inhabitant of this world — a child of Adam. Such life he never recovers. Job was right, only he did not see beyond, nor here know Him who is the resurrection and the life.
Does resurrection undo the sending away? One writer says no. Job's bleak words stand even for those who will rise, because resurrection does not restore the old life:
Such is death for man; and being such, it is the wages of sin. Man in it, as the creature which God made for Adam's paradise, perishes forever — is set entirely aside. Nor do I forget resurrection when I say so. Resurrection does not restore him to this. Job's words are absolutely true here... God's grace may give him another and a better thing, but it does not reverse the first judgment.
Verse 20 is not Job's whole mind. What he asks God for, a few verses earlier, shows what he still believed while he despaired:
Job then returns to his desire that God would hide him in the grave until His anger had turned away, set him a time, and then remember him. If a man dies, shall he live again? Job was the very reverse of a sceptic. He looks for his time of renewal or exchange, and deep down he does not doubt God's longing for the work of His hands. Man is surely to live again; in spirit, soul, and body, God will renew him. But the contrast he believes in throws him back on the trials he was going through, which he could not explain.
Commentators differ over how far to go with Job here. Darby and Kelly treat him as right within his limits. Another writer is blunter about the spirit of these closing words:
It is full of bitterness against man and God. Job is partly right in what he says of man. But he appears throughout as someone whose sufferings had absorbed him in selfishness. He sees no mercy in God, and so the only future he dwells on is escape from His presence. That is not even an Old Testament view of the future, but the one-sided view of a man sick with misery. We pity him, though, thank God, he no longer needs it, but we cannot endorse his unbelief. He too will before long tell a different story, and out of his sorrow will come the morning of joy.
- Prevail — Job sees God overpowering man, with no chance of recovery. He takes that power as the whole story. The love behind it he could not see.
- Pass — man goes the way of a fallen mountain and water-worn stone. Unlike a tree, he does not sprout again in this world.
- Changed — death's shadow falls on the face once bright, and the living bury their dead out of sight.
- Sent away — the dismissal is real, and nothing undoes it. Grace can give something better, but it does not reverse the first judgment.
- Until the change — Job still asks God to hide him and remember him. His darkest words sit beside a hope of renewal he could not yet explain.
His sons come to honour, and he knoweth it not; and they are brought low, and he perceiveth it not.
Job ends his long reply to his friends by watching even the strongest things fall to ruin — and man passing away with them. Does death cut every tie, so that a father never learns whether his children rise or fall?
These words close the chapter, at the end of a chain of images about things that wear out and collapse.
He closes his answer (Job 14) with wider reflections on man's miserable lot in this world. Man is frail and faulty by nature, with no hope of reviving in this life, unlike a tree, which may sprout again however low it is cut down... Meanwhile he sees no ground of hope. Even the strongest things fall to ruin, and man passes away so completely that he knows nothing of it, whether his sons come to honour or are brought low.
Job had already lost all his children. The line is not theory for him, yet he states it as a rule true of every man.
Job sees only power on God's side, God prevailing against man without man having any chance of recovery: man passes on. Yet in reality God was dealing in pure love toward Job, not merely in power. Whether man's sons come to honour or whether they are brought low, the father is so reduced that he does not perceive it (v.21). Of course, Job's sons had all been killed before this. But he thinks of this situation as a general truth: man can find no pleasure in his family, any more than in himself.
How much weight should a reader give to words like these? One writer answers by naming two things they are not.
This is not exactly the language of unbelief, nor of faith either. It is a man speaking as a man, about things on earth. It is much like the thought in Ecclesiastes: "in the days to come all will have been long forgotten" (Ecclesiastes 2:16). Thank God, even in the Old Testament there was more light.
Some press words like these to argue that the dead know nothing at all. Writing on a similar line in Ecclesiastes, one commentator answers that objection.
Someone may object that the Bible says, "the dead know nothing" (Ecclesiastes 9:5). True, but where do we find this passage? Take texts away from their context and you can prove any heresy you please. The writer in Ecclesiastes deals with things "under the sun." It is of these things he speaks when he says, "the dead know nothing." A man may have been the alert head of a large business on earth. Once he leaves this world behind, he knows nothing more of it, and nothing of whether it prospers. And so with all departed ones as far as human affairs are concerned.
Commentators differ over what Job himself believed at this moment. One holds that in this chapter Job is shut inside the world he can see.
In Job 14, he does not go beyond this present world of sight. In the bitterness of his spirit he has no sense of resurrection... death has come fully upon him as a man belonging to this world — a child of Adam. He never recovers that life. Job was right, only he did not see beyond it, and here he did not know Him who is the resurrection and the life.
Another finds a settled hope under the complaint. The despair of this verse is what Job's unexplained trials threw him back into.
Job was the very reverse of a sceptic. He looks for his time of renewal or change, and deep down he does not doubt God's yearning for the work of His hands. Man is certainly to live again; spirit, soul, and body, he will be made new. But this contrast that he believes in throws him back on the trials he was going through, which he could not explain.
Job's own sons and daughters had died together in a single day. One writer sees a message in the way they went.
All of them, together, were swept out of life in a moment. This striking event hinted that another world does exist, into which their spirits had entered. It hinted that the resurrection, which Job had reasoned and debated about in Job 14, would come in due season, and that Job would meet them again.
- Knows nothing — of earth. Job's point is the completeness of a man's removal from this scene: rise or fall, his sons' story goes on without him.
- Knows nothing — of what he left. Language like this speaks of things "under the sun." A man has no further part in the affairs he left behind — that is the whole of what the words claim.
- Spoken as a man. The words are neither unbelief nor faith. Job describes earth as it looks from inside his grief.
- Power felt, love missed. Job sees only God's overwhelming strength against him, when in fact God was dealing with him in pure love.
- Sight beyond the scene. Job could not see it here, but the end of the book shows it: another world exists, resurrection is coming, and he would meet his children again.
But his flesh hath pain for himself alone, and his soul mourneth for himself.
Job's long reply to his friends ends with a man cut off from everything outside himself. Is this the truth about how human life ends, or only what a sufferer can see from where he lies?
These words end a long, bleak survey of human life. One writer traces how the chapter runs down to this point:
He closes his answer (Job 14) with wider reflections on man's miserable lot in this world. Man is frail and faulty by nature, with no hope of revival in this life. A tree is different: cut it down ever so low, and it may still sprout again. But man cannot, until the heavens are no more: then he too will wake from sleep. Again Job prays that God would hide him in the grave till his change or renewal comes. Then God will call, and he will answer. Meanwhile he sees no ground of hope. Even the strongest things fall to ruin. Man passes away so completely that he knows nothing of his sons, whether they come to honour or sink low.
The verse before this one says a man does not know whether his sons rise or fall. This verse finishes the picture:
Of course, Job's sons had all been killed before this. But he treats the situation as a general truth: man can find no pleasure in his family, and no more in himself. Rather, his flesh will be in pain and his soul will mourn (v.22). How painful and dismal is the picture he portrays!
The verse sets two things side by side: the flesh that hurts and the soul that mourns. One writer reads it with other verses like it and concludes:
Now, in these examples, the soul is distinguished from both body and flesh. It longs, it grieves, it hates, it loves. It is indeed a living thing, as Gen. 1:30 declares.
So is this despair all that Job believed? One writer says no:
If a man dies, shall he live again? Job was the very reverse of a sceptic. He looks for his time of renewal or exchange, and does not doubt at bottom God's yearning after the work of His hands. Man is surely to live again; spirit, and soul, and body, he will be renewed. But the contrast he believes in throws him back on his own trials, which he cannot explain. A fresh flood of feeling takes him over as he dwells on the ruin of man under the eye and hand of God. Man is ruined so completely that, whether his son comes to honour or to nothing, the father is none the wiser. The only thing he knows is his own pain, outside and inside.
Commentators differ on how much Job saw. One writer takes the chapter as limited to what the eye can see:
In Job 14, he clearly does not go beyond this present world of sight, and in the bitterness of his spirit has no sense of resurrection. The tree sprouts now and visibly in this present world — man does not... Job was right, only he did not see beyond, nor here know Him who is the resurrection and the life.
Another writer points out what the chapter leaves out, and why:
He speaks of "man" for this world, and nothing can really be conceived more exact. It was not the time or place to introduce the special blessedness of the first resurrection, which we shall find has its echo elsewhere in this book.
Job speaks here out of deep distress. That matters for how we use his words:
...we cannot take all that Job says in the vexation of his spirit as revelations, any more than all his friends say, who did not speak rightly of God as he did. They all utter many acknowledged truths which no Christian doubts, and the writer of the book was inspired to give them.
- Narrowed — The chapter closes in: from all mankind, to one family, to one man who no longer knows how his sons are doing.
- Only — His own flesh in pain and his own soul in grief are all that remain. He finds no pleasure in his family, and none in himself.
- Named — The verse names flesh and soul apart from each other, and the soul is the part that grieves, longs, loves and hates.
- Underneath — Job was no sceptic. He believed man would live again in spirit, soul and body, even when feeling swept him back into the dark.
- Careful — The book records Job's bitter words exactly as he spoke them. But a sufferer's complaint is not a revelation to build doctrine on.