Job 17:6–14

Job 17:6, "And in the past I was as a tabret." In the previous clause Job speaks of himself as a byword. It is best to take this clause as describing something similar. The meaning then would be, "I am one whose face is spit upon" — someone they view with disgust. The word occurs elsewhere only as a proper name.

Among the people generally he had become a "byword," or a "proverb," and the second clause of that 6th verse is elsewhere translated, "I am become one to be spit on in the face."

Job mourns his condition in a very solemn way, and compares it with what he once was. "In the past I was as a tabret," that is, "I made music, as it were, in the ears of people as I had to do with them." But now he is a byword not just of the three friends, but "of the people!"

Instead of people flattering him, Job now thought that God had made him a byword of the people (v.6), one in whose face men would spit. If this was not literally true, it was true figuratively... As he says, "he who has clean hands will be stronger and stronger" (v.9). This is true, but at the time did Job feel stronger and stronger? Thank God, his experience would end with him made stronger.

Again he damages his testimony by blaming his misery on God as well as on man, and by saying that upright people are stumbled by his sufferings. Yet despite it all, Job keeps on his steady way. But in answering the attack of his friends, there is a tone of self-satisfaction that does not quite fit a truly humble man.

This would astonish upright men. Job seems to turn the tables on his critics, suggesting that they might prove to be the hypocrites, while the righteous would hold on his way and the man with clean hands would grow stronger. As for these "friends," there was not one wise man among them.

He had made up his mind for death, and for the complete collapse of every plan he valued... if he was to hope, the grave was his house, his bed was spread in darkness, and decay and the worm were his closest relatives. Where, then, was his hope?... What a blessed contrast to such gloomy words of a believer is the strong encouragement we have! We have fled for refuge to take hold of the hope set before us, and we hold it as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast.

If this was not true in the literal sense, it was true as a picture. His sorrow had affected his eyesight, and he felt the parts of his body were like shadows.

He acknowledged the truth. He does not blame his ruin on the Chaldeans, or on any other secondary cause. He does not explain it away by the means that were used. He saw God's hand in it, yet he did not enter in the least into God's mind about the trial, still less into His love. That was the very reason why it was all so unexplainable to him at the time. He holds fast to his integrity, completely sure that there was nothing of what they imagined against him — no dreadful secret, no crushing sin, that God was punishing in this way.

However he himself might now be a bye-word, and openly an object of insult, his eye dim through grief and his whole frame a shadow, upright men should yet be amazed at this, and the guiltless roused against the ungodly, but the righteous should hold fast on their way, and the man of clean hands increase in strength.

"The righteous" — you see it is turned for good — "holds to his way." That is what he looked forward to. His record was on high; his witness was in heaven; he clung to God. "Though He slay me, I will hope in Him." That was Job's language; that was his spirit. He had far more faith than any one of the three.

Job would hold to his way despite the opposition. As he says, "he who has clean hands grows stronger and stronger." This is true, but at the time did Job feel stronger and stronger? Thank God his experience would certainly end with him being strengthened.

Again he spoils his testimony. He charges his misery on God as well as on man, and says that upright people are tripped up by his sufferings. Yet despite it all, Job keeps on his steady way. In answer to the attack of his friends, though, there is a tone of self-satisfaction that does not really suit a truly humble man.

Satan is always trying to occupy me with myself. That never leads to a true judgment of myself, though moaning over my inconsistencies may look pious and humble to some. The true object is outside myself... But Satan can get a good man taken up with himself. Job is an example of this, and he expresses it through twenty chapters; but God had to empty him of all that.

If men were upright they would be astonished at Job's sufferings, but his friends showed no such astonishment. Job knew he was innocent of the charges against him. So his friends' hypocrisy stirred him up, and he would hold to his way despite their opposition. As he says, "he who has clean hands grows stronger and stronger" (v.9). This is true, but at the time did Job feel stronger and stronger? Thank God, his experience would surely end with him strengthened.

Among the people generally he had become a "byword," or a "proverb," and the second half of verse 6 is translated elsewhere as, "I have become one to be spit on in the face." This, however, would astonish upright men. Job seems to turn the tables on his critics by implying that they might turn out to be the hypocrites, while the righteous would hold on his way, and the man with clean hands would grow stronger. As for these "friends," there was not one wise man among them.

He himself might now be a byword and an open object of insult, his eye dim through grief and his whole body a shadow. Even so, upright men should be amazed at this, and the guiltless stirred up against the ungodly. But the righteous should hold fast to their way, and the man of clean hands should grow stronger.

"Yet the righteous" — you see it is turned for good — "holds to his way." That is what he was looking ahead to. His record was on high; his witness was in heaven; he clung to God.

Once again he spoils his testimony. He blames his misery on God as well as on people, and says that his sufferings make upright people stumble. Still, despite it all, Job keeps steadily on his way. But in the way he meets his friends' attacks there is a tone of self-satisfaction that does not suit a truly humble man.

But how did these godly men come to make such a strange mistake? Nobody makes stranger mistakes than godly people who are not walking in dependence on God. Their very godliness gives them a stronger hatred of evil. And if the power of grace is missing, and the sense that they need God Himself to guard them by His grace, then no one will be more severe and no one less just. This is a solemn warning.

Job mourns his condition very solemnly, and compares it with what he once was. Now he is a byword — not just of the three friends, but "of the people!" But then: "The righteous also" — you see, it turns for good — "shall hold on his way." That is what he looked forward to. His record was on high; his witness was in heaven; he clung to God. "Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him." That was Job's language; that was his spirit. He had far more faith than any one of the three.

He himself might now be a byword and an open target of insult, his eye dim through grief and his whole frame a shadow. Even so, upright men should be amazed at this, and the guiltless stirred up against the ungodly. But the righteous should hold fast on their way, and the man of clean hands increase in strength.

In Psalm 24 we read, "Who shall ascend the hill of the LORD? And who shall stand in His holy place?" He must have "clean hands" — that implies righteousness. He must also have "a pure heart" — which shows holiness. The pure heart governs the movements of the clean hands.

This, however, would astonish upright men. Job seems to turn the tables on his critics by suggesting that they might prove to be the hypocrites. The righteous would hold on his way, and the one who had clean hands would increase in strength. As for these "friends," there was not one wise man among them.

In fact Job knew himself innocent of the charges against him. He was stirred up against the hypocrisy of his friends, and he would hold to his way despite the opposition. As he says, "he who has clean hands grows stronger and stronger" (v.9). This is true, but at the time did Job feel stronger and stronger? Thank God, his experience would end with him strengthened.

Again he damages his testimony. He blames God as well as man for his misery, and says that his sufferings stumble upright people. Yet despite it all, Job keeps on his steadfast way. But in the way he meets the attack of the friends, there is a tone of self-satisfaction which does not quite suit a truly lowly man.

In verse 10 Job pleads with his friends to come back again. He means, no doubt, that they should come back to a sensible position of really being comforters. He had found none of the three to be wise men.

In the way he meets the attacks of his friends, though, there is a tone of self-satisfaction that does not suit a humble man. Verse 10 seems to be a challenge to them to keep attacking, since they completely lack the discernment that marks the wise. They hold out light to him if he will repent, while he is drawing ever nearer to death.

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. They were completely mistaken. They did not know how to present God to Job. As a result, they did not know how to bring Job's conscience into the presence of God. Instead of leading him to judge himself, 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.

They press the teaching that God's government of this world is a full measure and display of His righteousness, and of the righteousness of man, which would match it. That teaching proves total ignorance of what God's righteousness is, and of His ways.

Job seems to turn the tables on his critics. He suggests that they might prove to be the hypocrites, while the righteous man would hold on his way, and the one with clean hands would grow stronger. As for these "friends," there was not one wise man among them.

Job's friends thought they had "the secrets of wisdom" (ch.11:6), but Job could see that their arguments were not wise at all. So he faces them with this: wisdom is not so easily obtained. In fact, wisdom cannot be bought with gold or silver.

They might have been of use if his had been an ordinary case. But here was a deeply righteous man stripped of every earthly possession in a way never seen before, and their tongues were silent. They did not understand the ways of God with His own at all. By their false and unworthy suggestions they made Job feel how powerless they were to help him, and they threw him back on God Himself. So in the end he said, "I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you" (Job 42:5).

My days are gone, my plans are broken — the possessions of my heart. They put night in place of day, and light close at hand in the face of darkness!

In verse 10 Job pleads with his friends to come back again — no doubt to come back to a sensible position of being real comforters. He had found none of the three to be wise men. (v.11). It seemed to him his life was finished, and there was nothing to live for.

Again he spoils his testimony by blaming his misery on God as well as on man… Yet in spite of it all, Job keeps on his steady way. Verse 10 seems to be a challenge to keep up their attacks, since they completely fail in the discernment that marks the wise. They are holding out light to him, if he repents, while he is drawing ever nearer to death.

A bad conscience would have shrunk from death, as stripping it of all disguise, and destruction to the soul. Job, on the contrary, proved not only that he was real, but the state of his conscience, by the fact of his earnest desire to depart and be with God. We see his confidence in God then, even while he spreads out his sorrows, with no other thought than death before him.

His face is now turned toward the gloom of death, with barely a gleam of hope of anything beyond. His spirit has clearly not yet found rest, and victory is not yet his. But, unlike the friends, he sometimes has his face in the right direction. If his mouth were only closed long enough to hear God speaking to him, he would see the full deliverance that comes to those who justify the Lord.

He had made up his mind for death, and for the complete collapse of every plan he had set his heart on… 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. That hope is an anchor of the soul, sure and steadfast. It reaches inside the veil, where the forerunner has entered for us — Jesus, made a high priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek.

It seemed to him his life was finished, and there was nothing to live for. In verse 12 he seems to refer to his friends as changing the night into day. That is, they treated Job's distressing night-time experiences as light enough for them to understand that his troubles came from his sin.

His friends might hold out fresh and bright hopes to him if he would repent. They put night for day, and made light seem near in the middle of very darkness. But if he was to hope, the grave was his house, his bed was spread in darkness, and decay and the worm were his closest family. Where, then, was his hope? Yes, his hope, who sees it? He sees nothing but going down to the grave, where they would rest together in the dust. What a blessed contrast to these gloomy words of a saint is the strong encouragement we have! We have run for refuge to take hold of the hope set before us. We hold that hope as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast. It reaches inside the veil, where Jesus has gone in ahead of us as our forerunner, made a high priest for ever in the order of Melchizedek.

Again he spoils his testimony. He blames his misery on God as well as on man, and says that his sufferings make upright people stumble. Yet through it all, Job keeps to his steady way. In answering the attack of his friends, though, there is a self-satisfied tone that does not suit a truly humble man. Verse 10 seems to be a challenge to them to keep up their attacks, since they completely lack the discernment that marks a wise man. They are holding out light to him, if penitent, while he is drawing ever nearer to death.

In verse 5 Bildad refers back to Job's claim that his friends were changing the night into day, saying the light is near in the face of darkness (ch.17:12). "The light of the wicked indeed goes out," Bildad says. He implies that Job had no clear light in the darkness of his experience, so Job must be wicked.

We may divide this reply, as we did the address of Eliphaz, into five parts: (1) He reproaches them for their heartlessness (Job 16:1-5). (2) Under the wrath of God and the hatred of man (verses 6-14). (3) He appeals to God in it all (verses 15-22). (4) The experience of bitter trial (Job 17:1-12). (5) The dark outlook toward the grave (verses 13-16).

Finally, Job tells them to come on again, though he is sure they have no spiritual understanding at all. He had made up his mind for death, and for the total collapse of every plan he had cherished. His friends might hold out fresh and bright expectations if he repented, putting night for day and light close at hand out of sheer darkness. But if he was to hope at all, the grave was his house. His bed was spread in darkness, with corruption and the worm his nearest relatives.

The closing words of this speech of Job are a very sad complaint about how hopeless his outlook was. As for his poor body, only corruption and the worm lay ahead of him, while his soul would be in the unseen world. The word translated "grave" in verse 13, and the word translated "pit" in verse 16, is the Hebrew sheol, the equivalent of the Greek hades used in the New Testament.

And what is his hope now? How dark and evil his thoughts are! The grave is to be his house, the darkness his bed. Corruption is his father, the worm his mother and his sister. He and his hope will go down to the bars of the pit and rest together in the dust. But we shall soon hear a different confession from his lips.

There was nothing Job wanted so much as death. If he could only die, if he could only come near enough to God to plead before Him, even now he did not doubt what he would find there. Certainly nothing could test a man more thoroughly than that. A bad conscience would have shrunk back from death, since death strips away every disguise and means ruin for the soul. Job, on the contrary, proved not only that he was genuine but what state his conscience was in, by his earnest desire to depart and be with God. We see his confidence in God even while he spreads out his sorrows, with nothing but death in view.

His future looked bleak and hopeless to him. How wrong he was! God had designed greater blessing for him in the future than he had ever known before. And eternity holds greater blessing still, beyond measure. But meanwhile Job's feelings were those of defeat and misery... He did want to die. So why did he think so hopelessly about what death would bring? But our feelings often make us inconsistent. Of course, at that time he could not know how fully the death of Christ answers the many distressing questions that death raises.

How wonderfully different from such gloomy words of a saint is the strong encouragement we have! We have fled for refuge to take hold of the hope set before us. That hope is an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast. It reaches into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has entered for us as forerunner, made a high priest forever after the order of Melchizedek.

He had made up his mind for death, as well as the complete collapse of every plan he had cherished. His friends might hold out fresh and bright hopes if only he would repent, putting night for day and light close by out of sheer darkness. But if he was to hope at all, the grave was his house, his bed spread in darkness, corruption and the worm his nearest relatives.

The closing words of this speech of Job are a very sad complaint about how hopeless his outlook is. As for his poor body, only corruption and the worm were ahead of it, while his soul would be in the unseen world. The word translated "grave" in verse 13, and the one translated "pit" in verse 16, is the Hebrew sheol, the equivalent of the Greek hades used in the New Testament.

The worm is used as a symbol to show how extremely feeble man is. Job 17:14; Job 25:6. In blessing Israel the LORD said, "Fear not, you worm Jacob," Isa. 41:14; and the Lord, to show how low a place He was in, said, "I am a worm and not a man." Ps. 22:6. In the grave man's body becomes the companion of worms, even if they do not actually feed on it. Job 21:26; Job 24:20; Isa. 14:11.

A bad conscience would have shrunk from death, as the thing that strips away all disguise and destroys the soul. Job, on the other hand, proved not only that he was genuine but what the state of his conscience was, by his earnest desire to depart and be with God. We see his confidence in God even while he spreads out his sorrows, with no thought before him but death.

And what is his hope now? How dark and evil his thoughts! The grave is to be his house, the darkness his bed. Corruption his father, the worm his mother and his sister. He and his hope will go down to the bars of the pit, and rest together in the dust. But we shall soon hear another confession from his lips.

But Job's was the Old Testament hope. Outside the present scene there was little light. Death was a deep, dark "shadow," almost impossible to see through. Resurrection and restoration to a scene of earthly blessing was the solid, plain thing. There were scattered hints of other things, it is true. Enoch had long ago gone to God without seeing death. Elijah followed him in a later day. A little gleam of light had broken in there. But that was still not the revelation of the heavenly places and a portion there for those who believed. Death was not abolished, and life and incorruption had not been brought to light.

What a contrast to such gloomy words of a saint! We have strong encouragement, because we have fled for refuge to take hold of the hope set before us. That hope is an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast. It reaches into the place within the veil, where the forerunner has entered for us — Jesus, made a high priest forever.