Yea, the light of the wicked shall be put out, and the flame of his fire shall not shine.
Bildad answers Job a second time, and he offers no comfort. He states a rule everyone accepts: the wicked man's lamp goes out. The question is not whether the rule is true. It is why true words can still wound a man already sitting in the dark.
The tone of this speech comes from the man making it.
Bildad has much less gentleness of spirit, and much less self-control, than his older friend Eliphaz, who leads all these discussions. So he is far more reckless in voicing his doubt of Job and his hint of hypocrisy. That is really what soon comes out.
Bildad is sincere, and his statement about the wicked is true. Neither fact helps Job.
Bildad again takes his place in the contest (Job 18). He means well, but his words are poisoned arrows. "The light of the wicked is put out." Yes, every word is perfectly true of the wicked. But how crushing to Job! Circumstances seemed to favour the charge.
The picture is a lamp going out over a man's head. Kelly names what puts it out.
In forceful pictures he sets out how all light dies in the ungodly man. The flame of his fire shines no more, and the lamp over him goes out. His own efforts do not free him; they tangle him further. Not rashness but his own counsel plunges him into utter ruin. No cleverness helps him — it traps him, the man who trusts himself instead of God.
Ridout notices where Bildad aims the picture, and how long he allows the light to last.
The light of the wicked may burn brightly for a little while, as Job's had done, but it would be put out. The light of home, with its welcoming attraction, would vanish. His strong steps would begin to falter, and he would fall by his own evil counsel.
Bildad did not pick the word light at random.
In verse 5 he refers back to Job's claim. His friends were changing night into day, saying the light is near in the face of darkness (ch. 17:12). "Indeed, the light of the wicked is put out," Bildad says. He implies that Job had no clear light in his darkness, so Job must be wicked.
Bellett spells out where that argument lands.
Bildad, in chapter 18, insists that since "the light of the wicked is put out," Job must not suppose that any exception will be allowed in his case. He is not to think that for his sake "the rock be removed out of its place." In other words, God will not set aside His general plan as a special favour to him. All this tells Job plainly: he was now such a great sufferer, so he must be a hypocrite. Only the light of the wicked is put out like this.
The speech is true about the wicked. It is aimed at the wrong man. Kelly explains why that does real damage.
Things that are true, but misunderstood and misapplied, may do more harm than many a false thing. Misapplied truth lends the apparent authority of God to an error. The error then carries all the more weight, because it comes as the truth. If someone says a foolish thing, or one plainly false, people despise it. But no believer can brush aside the truth of God. So when people use the truth of God wrongly — when they use it to crush someone who is the object of God's intense interest at that moment — how foreign and offensive to His mind!
Bildad judges a man by what happens to him. That test fails in both directions.
The lesson of the first importance here is that outward calamities do not prove that a man is in the wrong place... Nor is outward success a necessary evidence of God's approval. This is certainly a very basic lesson, yet it needs repeating often. We have such a strong tendency to judge in that crude and childish way. So we are likely to accept the ruling of Job's comforters when we judge other people's lives. We are also likely to be misled by such tests about our own course.
- True. Every word Bildad says about the wicked man's lamp is accurate.
- Misaimed. Nothing in it ties Job to the wicked whose end it describes, yet it lands on him as a charge.
- Dangerous. Misapplied truth borrows God's authority for an error, and so does more harm than an obvious lie.
- Why he missed. He read Job's disaster as proof of guilt. Outward loss is not proof of God's disapproval.
- Sincere. Bildad meant well. Good intentions did not stop his words being poisoned arrows.
The light shall become dark in his tent, and his lamp over him shall be put out.
Bildad, one of Job's three friends, speaks a second time. Instead of comfort he paints a picture: a tent going dark, a lamp above the sufferer snuffed out. Job is never named in the picture — but everyone sitting there knows who is meant.
Bildad makes his case with pictures, not arguments. One writer traces them:
So, in forceful pictures, he describes how every light goes out in the ungodly man. The flame of his fire will shine no more, and the lamp over him will go out. No effort will set him free; it only entangles him more.
The light stands for more than a life. It stands for a home. Another writer ties the lamp to Job's own past:
The light of the wicked may burn brightly for a little while, as Job's had done, but it would be put out. The light of home, with its welcoming attraction, would vanish. His strong steps would begin to falter, and he would fall by his own evil counsel.
Bildad is not teaching general truth for its own sake. He is answering something Job had just said, and turning it back on him:
In verse 5 he looks back to Job's words about his friends: they were turning night into day, saying the light is near when darkness is all around (ch. 17:12). "The light of the wicked indeed goes out," Bildad says. He implies that since Job had no clear light in the darkness of his experience, Job must be wicked.
Nothing in the verse is false. That is exactly what makes it so hard to answer:
Bildad again takes his place in the contest (Job 18). He means well, but his words are poisoned arrows. "Indeed, the light of the wicked is put out." Yes, every word is true of the wicked; but how crushing to Job! Circumstances seemed to favour the charge.
And the sting lay in the fit between the picture and Job's visible situation:
It was painful enough to lose all he once had, and to have the bright light quenched that once glowed in his welcoming tent. But now that loss, along with the attacks of the dreaded disease gnawing at his insides and draining his strength, was cited as proof of his wickedness. That was unbearable to human nature.
Behind the picture stands a fixed system: outcomes reveal character, always. One writer names what that system leaves out:
Let Job be as wildly restless as he likes, he will find out in the end that … the moral government of God is as immovable as the course of the earth, or the stubborn rock. What a man sows he reaps: if evil, ruin; if good, blessing. But of the second Bildad has not a word to say. Did he know what grace works through faith? Faith can not only remove the rock, but cast a mountain into the sea.
So Job can expect no exception to the rule:
He is not to think that for his sake the rock will be removed out of its place. In other words, God will not set aside His general plan out of any special favour or respect for Job. All this tells Job plainly: since he was now such a great sufferer, he must be a hypocrite. Only the light of the wicked is put out like this.
The same picture appears elsewhere in Scripture. The difference is not in the flame but in its source:
What a true and striking contrast between "the light" of the righteous and "the lamp" of the wicked! Their course and end match their source… The lamp of the wicked may flare up for a while, during the pleasures of sin for a season. But before long it dims, flickers, and will be put out.
Bildad was not lying. He was convinced. That is the warning the chapter leaves with every reader:
Is it not humbling and solemn that we may be ever so sincere in what we believe, but completely wrong? We are just as responsible for what our convictions are as for what we do or say. Only One can give us the right thought or feeling. He alone also gives the wisdom and strength to carry it out. It is God Himself.
- True. Every word Bildad says about the lamp of the wicked is accurate. His doctrine here is sound in itself.
- Aimed. He aims it at a man whose tent had just gone dark, so true words land as a charge of hypocrisy.
- Narrow. The system behind it knows only sowing and reaping — of grace working through faith Bildad has not a word.
- Sincere. He means well. But sincerity did not keep him from being completely wrong, and we answer for our convictions.
- Dependent. Only God can give us a right thought or feeling, and the strength to act on it — so our convictions must come from Him.