Job 27–31

In the next chapter (Job 27) it would have been Zophar's turn; but although Bildad had very little to say, Zophar had nothing. He is out of the debate for good, and we shall find that Eliphaz does not return. Job now has it all to himself. So he gives here what might have been an answer to Zophar — but there was no Zophar left to answer, because Job had silenced him. They felt they had no case left. They began with great energy, full of confidence that their judgment was sound. But Job had answered all their foolish talk completely, and there they sat in silence. It is not that they were yet convinced they were wrong. They do what many people do — they shut up, have not a word to say, and still hold the same opinion.

The opening language differs from everything that has introduced Job's words up to now. It seems to imply that he paused after his reply to Bildad. The pause lasted long enough to show that Zophar and the rest had nothing more to say, though no doubt they were still unconvinced. He begins again with unusual solemnity.

The Old Testament uses the word "parable" many times for figurative language where no distinct parable is told. Balaam "took up his parable" (Numbers 23:7, 18), and Job "continued his parable" (Job 27:1; Job 29:1).

So Job resumed his discourse, striking a very solemn note, as one taking an oath before God. While affirming his own integrity and truth, he charged his friends with being the ones who spoke falsehood and deceit. He held fast his righteousness with all the resolve he had.

This closing speech shows us Job's heart. He defends himself. He refuses to accept the charges of his friends, and he implies that he is the one who has the true wisdom — the fear of the Lord. He then looks back on his past happiness and sets it against how low he has now fallen. He closes with fresh and complete declarations of his own righteousness.

Job has already won the debate, though he fully admits he has not found the relief he is seeking. Now he spends five chapters on his self-defence. It will get him nowhere as far as the answer to his distressing condition goes. His relatively righteous life had nothing to do with the answer to his questions.

There are certain elements of confusion in this long speech... The closing part is a sad conclusion — self-occupation, self-vindication, self-righteousness. But embedded between these two parts we have, in grand poetic beauty, a statement of what wisdom is, the true riches, unknown to the natural man. We cannot but feel that, with all he still has to unlearn, Job has the elements of this wisdom. The root of the matter is in him, the pure gold is there, and the dross will soon be removed.

He begins again with unusual solemnity. He appeals to the living God, though he admits that it was God who turned aside His judgment and made his soul bitter for the present. He swears that as long as he breathed, his lips would not speak wickedness, and his tongue would not murmur deceit. It would only dishonour God for him to allow them to be in the right. So to his dying breath he would stand by his integrity, and hold fast his righteousness, never letting it go.

Job declares that he will never surrender to the unrighteous charges of the friends. He declares outright that God has taken away his right — not his judgment, as older translations put it. God has acted unjustly toward him. He has brought bitterness into the soul of one who did not deserve it!

He knows that God lives, but claims that God had taken away the justice Job felt he deserved. He knew that God is Almighty, but he accused God of making his soul bitter.

He had been charged with being a deceiver and a hypocrite. He knew he was not this, and he was not going to plead guilty to it for a moment. We too know that he was not. But outward correctness does not by itself count as righteousness in the presence of God. Job's own words here prove it, for the way he complains of God in verse 2 shows that his heart was not right in His sight.

We must take this as the sober statement of one who had "lived in all good conscience." But there is a sound of self-righteousness in it. That does not fit with knowing yourself in the presence of God. Job is not there yet. It is the cry of an honest soul that does not fully see the light.

Elihu deals fairly with Job's statements. He either quotes Job's words, sums them up, or draws obvious conclusions from them. Job had time and again declared he was righteous, or guiltless. This is the whole burden of his complaint against God. He had declared that God had taken away his judgment, and that, being innocent, if he confessed sin he would be a liar.

Jehovah asks him the serious question, "Will you even put Me in the wrong? Will you condemn Me that you may be in the right? Have you an arm like God, and can you thunder with a voice like His?"

There was something unusual about Job's case, which he did not know at first. God was allowing Satan to bring all these things. Satan's pleasure and hope was to trip Job up and cast him down, and to make him curse God. God allowed him to have his way, but not to kill Job. That would have suited Job. But it would not have brought out the great moral of the story: blessing brought into his soul by the very things that seemed to be against him. When he began to find fault, he had to learn what that very God is like. He could never swerve from what is excellent. And in all this He had a purpose of blessing for Job — not just outward blessing, but blessing for his soul.

In the next chapter (Job 27) it would have been Zophar's turn; but although Bildad had very little to say, Zophar had nothing. He is out of the debate... Job had answered all their foolish talk, and there they were silent. It is not that they were yet convinced they were wrong; but they do what many people do — they shut up, and have not a word to say, and still hold the same opinion.

He still holds that all their imagining was false. He said now more solemnly than ever — it was a kind of swearing to it — As God lives, this is true... Now he turns on them; he says, "You are the culprits, not I."

Some argue that the Spirit of God is in the nostrils, and so is only the principle of life in every living thing, because Job 27:3 in the older common translation speaks that way. I can only say the argument is worthy of men who quote Greek and Hebrew freely when they choose. Here they are pleased to ignore that one of the commonest renderings of ruach is "breath." They also ignore that the expression refers to Genesis 2:7, where the word for "breath of life" is a word never applied to the Spirit of God at all.

It is quite true that man's breath in his nostrils marks how soon he passes away. Isaiah appeals to it in this way (Isaiah 2:22). But that does not touch the meaning of the words "God breathed" — that, as Elihu says, the "inspiration of the Almighty gave him life" (Job 33:4) [ESV: "the breath of the Almighty gives me life"]. The language may be figurative, and full of a mystery that has not yet shown itself. Still, it should be plain that God gives man something that puts him in kinship with God as the beast never is.

Verse 3 has been translated in different ways. The older English version has Job saying that as long as his breath is in him, he will keep insisting on his righteousness. But many take the verse as an explanation in parentheses: "for still all my breath is in me," and so on. He is fully aware of what he is saying, and speaks the truth deliberately, as he believes it. Such a rendering and explanation seems to agree with the original.

This "righteousness," as Job 29 will show us, had to do with his outward conduct, for the searching light of God had not yet entered his soul. He had been charged with being a deceiver and a hypocrite. He knew he was not, and he was not going to plead guilty to it for a moment. We too know that he was not — but outward correctness does not by itself count as righteousness in the presence of God. Job's own words here prove it, for the way he complains of God in verse 2 shows that his heart was not right in His sight.

There is a sound of self-righteousness here that does not fit with knowing yourself in the presence of God. Job is not there yet. It is the cry of an honest soul that does not yet fully see the light.

Job has answered Bildad as well as Eliphaz; and now Zophar, the third and last of his critics, is silent. Not so Job; he has more to say, to which he gives a weighty form. He swears by the living God that he would never, while he lived, admit that the suspicions against him were right. He would not give up the assertion of his integrity. God had not vindicated him yet; on the contrary, He had called him to a most bitter trial. And they indeed were the guilty people who falsely accused him.

He still stands by it that all their imagination was false. He said now more solemnly than ever — it was a kind of swearing to it — as God lives, this is true.

So Job resumed his discourse, striking a very solemn note, as taking an oath before God. He affirmed his own integrity and truth. In doing so he charged his friends with being the ones who spoke falsehood and deceit, while he held fast his righteousness with the utmost resolution. This "righteousness," as Job 29 will show us, had to do with his outward conduct, for the searching light of God had not yet entered his soul. They had charged him with being a deceiver and a hypocrite. He knew he was not, and he was not going to plead guilty to it for a moment. We too know he was not. But outward correctness does not in itself count for righteousness in the presence of God.

The next verse, 3, has been rendered in various ways. The Authorised Version makes Job say that so long as his breath is in him, he will keep maintaining his righteousness. But many regard the verse as a parenthesis that explains: "for still all my breath is in me," and so on. He is fully conscious, and speaks the truth deliberately, as he believes.

But as long as he lives (v. 3) he is determined that he will not yield to sin. Whatever the three friends allege, he will not admit a false charge (v. 5). Despite their harsh judgment, he is determined to hold to the integrity of all his former life until the day he dies.

He will not allow himself to bear false witness; till he dies he will hold fast his integrity. His heart does not condemn him… But there is a sound of self-righteousness here. It does not match the self-knowledge a man has in the presence of God. Job is not there yet. It is the cry of an honest soul that does not fully see the light… We see, then, that Job was speaking as between man and man.

Job was upright, but he began to make this his righteousness. That plainly proves he had never really been in the presence of God.

Perhaps it is good to ask ourselves: "What do I use my lips for?" Surely not for tale-bearing? How we need to pray daily: "…keep the door of my lips" (Psalm 141:3; Job 27:4).

He still holds to it that all their imagination was false. He said now more solemnly than ever — it was like taking an oath — as God lives, this is true. "God forbid that I should justify you." Now he turns on them; he says, "You are the culprits, not I." "Till I die I will not remove my integrity from me. My righteousness I hold fast, and will not let it go; my heart shall not reproach me so long as I live." They were, on the contrary, charging him with what was very bad in most of their speeches.

The word translated "justify" occurs in that precise form of the verb only in Exodus 23:7: "I will not acquit the wicked"; that is, God will not make or declare a wicked man a just man. Again, "God forbid that I should justify you" (Job 27:5); that is, acknowledge you to be just in what you have spoken.

Whatever the three friends allege, he will not admit a false charge (v. 5). Despite their harsh judgment, he is determined to pursue the integrity of all his former life to the day of his death. In this setting he says, "My righteousness I hold fast, and will not let it go." That is, nothing could turn him to turn from what he knew to be right. He therefore adds, "My heart shall not reproach me so long as I live." He was for keeping a good conscience all his days, like Paul later.

He points out their failures faithfully. He records the details that men would have hidden. But He will not allow others to speak against them. If a Balaam would curse them, he must bless instead. If Satan would harm Job, God would speak of him as "my servant Job — none like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, who fears God and turns away from evil; and he still holds fast his integrity."

He will not allow himself to bear false witness; till he dies he will hold fast his integrity. His heart does not condemn him. Looking back over his past life, there is not a day whose record gives ground for reproach... But there is a sound of self-righteousness that does not fit with knowing yourself in the presence of God. Job is not there yet. It is the cry of an honest soul that does not yet fully see the light. Is there any unrighteousness? — it is in his enemy, not in himself. We see, then, that Job was speaking as between man and man.

He would by no means surrender his integrity, he would by no means let go his righteousness. But, as Elihu puts it, his "righteousness," or his "uprightness," would now be to bow under God's hand, to trust the searching of His discipline, and to learn the lesson God would teach. In short, it would be to look away from himself to God, and to live on that new principle before Him, centred in the Lord and no longer in self.

He still stands by it that all their imagining was false. He said now more solemnly than ever — it was a kind of swearing to it — as God lives, this is true. "God forbid that I should justify you." Now he turns on them; he says, "You are the culprits, not I."

That reading is unlikely on the face of it. The righteousness of God in the gospel sense was not revealed until the gospel came. Satan was allowed to test Job, but not to discover whether he had soul-salvation and a righteous footing before God. The test was whether Job feared God because of his prosperity and material advantages, which Satan claimed were quite enough to produce piety in a man.

In this setting he says, "I hold fast my righteousness and will not let it go." Nothing could make him turn from what he knew to be right. So he adds, "my heart does not reproach me for any of my days." He was for keeping a good conscience all his days, like Paul later.

He will not let himself bear false witness; until he dies he will hold fast his integrity. His heart does not condemn him. Looking back over his past life, there is not a day whose record gives ground for reproach… We must take this as the sober statement of a man who had "lived in all good conscience." But there is a sound of self-righteousness that does not match knowing yourself in the presence of God. Job is not there yet. It is the cry of an honest soul that does not fully see the light.

Job had these spiritual affections, but they did not stop him. He turned this consciousness of integrity into a robe of self-righteousness. It hid God from him, and even hid him from himself. He declares himself to be more righteous than God.

This "righteousness," as Job 29 will show us, had to do with his outward conduct, for as yet the searching light of God had not entered his soul. He had been charged with being a deceiver and a hypocrite. He knew he was not, and he was not going to plead guilty to it for a moment. We too know that he was not, but outward correctness does not in itself count for righteousness in the presence of God.

Now we do need practical righteousness and a good conscience as well as faith to resist the enemy, as we see in Ephesians 6. But we want something far brighter than this armour as a robe before God; we want divine righteousness here; and this Job had to learn. He had confused the two things, as many a believer does today, to his own loss and to God's dishonour.

He would by no means surrender his integrity, he would by no means let go his righteousness. But, as Elihu puts it, his "righteousness," or his "uprightness," would now be to bow under God's hand. It would be to trust the searchings of His discipline, and to learn the lesson God would teach. In short, it would be to look away from himself to God, and to live on that new principle before Him, centred in the Lord and no longer in self.

He still stands by it that everything they imagined was false. He said it now more solemnly than ever — it was a kind of swearing to it — as God lives, this is true. "Far be it from me to say that you are right." Now he turns on them; he says, "You are the culprits, not I." … "Let my enemy be as the wicked, and let him who rises up against me be as the unrighteous." That is what he says. "It is you who are acting the part of wicked men without knowing it. It is you who are the unrighteous, not I."

His conscience really was good; his heart did not reproach him for anything he had done. He knew of nothing that could account for his trials; yet in saying that, he had already admitted he was not justified. But what could he think of those who used the trials that were crushing him? He could reach only one conclusion: if he was innocent, then those who took the place of his enemy must count as the wicked party, and those who attacked him as the unrighteous.

Job ends this section by expressing a desire. He wants his enemy — the one who opposed his claim of righteousness — to be like the wicked, not worth considering. He wants the one who rose against him in his claim to be like the unrighteous, a contrast to Job himself (v.7). If this applied to his friends, let them consider it!

He will not allow himself to bear false witness; until he dies he will hold fast his integrity. His heart does not condemn him… But there is a sound of self-righteousness in it that does not fit with knowing yourself in the presence of God. Job is not there yet. It is the cry of an honest soul that does not yet fully see the light. Is there any unrighteousness? — it is in his enemy, not in himself. We see, then, that Job was speaking as between man and man.

He held fast to his righteousness with complete determination. This "righteousness," as Job 29 will show us, was about his outward conduct, because the searching light of God had not yet entered his soul. He had been charged with being a deceiver and a hypocrite. He knew he was not this, and he was not going to plead guilty to it for a moment. We too know that he was not, but outward correctness does not in itself count for righteousness in the presence of God. Job's own words here prove it, for the way he complains of God in verse 2 shows that his heart was not right in His sight.

His friends had no proof at all against what Job said, for his actions had been good. But at the end of this book Job's attitude is wonderfully changed. The one who had such confidence in his own righteousness, when face to face with God, said, "I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you; therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes" (ch. 42:5-6). The question of his good conduct was set aside entirely when he saw, not merely his past life, but himself in the light of God's presence. He abhorred himself, rather than defending himself.

Now he turns on them; he says, "You are the guilty ones, not I." "Till I die I will not remove my integrity from me. My righteousness I hold fast, and will not let it go." ... "It is you who are acting the part of wicked men without knowing it." ... "For what is the hope of the hypocrite, though he has gained, when God takes away his soul?" It shows that he had a great hatred of it — as much as they had, or more.

He was at least as sure as they were that the hope of the hypocrite or profane man must perish when God summons his soul.

Job's friends had accused him of hypocrisy, but he asks them about the hypocrite's end. Though he gained much in this world, what can he do when God takes away his life? "Will God hear his cry when distress comes upon him?" (v.9). In fact, would a hypocrite delight himself in God so much as to call upon God Himself? (v.10). It is not the character of such an evil man to really call on God, yet it was clear to Job's friends that Job was crying out to God in his affliction.

Job now turns to the end of the wicked. What hope has he when God cuts him off and takes away his soul? What shall be the end of the man to whom God says, "Fool! This night your soul is required of you"? Will God hear his cry when it is too late? Or has He not given the solemn warning, "I also will laugh at your calamity; I will mock when terror strikes you" (Prov. 1:26)? Is it too late to call upon God when the present opportunities have been put off for a "more convenient season" — which never comes?

This is all true of the hearers on stony ground; but it is not true of Job — and not true of the soul that sincerely trusts in Christ. The water that is in him is a well of water, springing up to everlasting life. "The hypocrite's hope shall perish," but the feeblest sheep of Christ shall never perish.

He had been charged with being a deceiver and a hypocrite. He knew he was not this, and he was not going to plead guilty to it for a moment. We too know that he was not, but outward correctness does not in itself count for righteousness in the presence of God. Job's own words here prove it, for the way he complains of God in verse 2 shows that his heart was not right in His sight.

He still stands by it that all their imagining was false. He now spoke more solemnly than ever — it was a kind of oath — as God lives, this is true... Now he turns on them; he says, "You are the culprits, not I." ... "For what is the hope of the hypocrite, though he has gained, when God takes away his soul?" It shows that he hated it deeply — just as much as they did, or more.

Job now turns to the end of the wicked. What hope has he when God cuts him off and takes away his soul? What shall be the end of the man to whom God says, "Fool! This night your soul is required of you"? Will God hear his cry when it is too late? Or has He not given the solemn warning, "I also will laugh at your calamity; I will mock when terror strikes you" (Proverbs 1:26)? Is it too late to call on God when a man has put off today's opportunities for a "more convenient season" — which never comes?

Look for a moment at 1 Samuel 28:6: "And when Saul inquired of the Lord." Now compare 1 Chronicles 10:14: "And did not inquire of the Lord." Samuel records the outward act. The Holy Spirit in Chronicles pronounces God's judgment on the inward condition of his soul. The pressure of despair wrung a useless cry out of his heart, but there was no real turning to Him. He never shuts out the most desperate cry from a soul that is truly broken. All help was gone, and in his fear he inquires of the Lord whom he had habitually disobeyed and neglected.

He was at least as sure as they were that the hope of the hypocrite or profane man must perish when God summons his soul. He was equally sure that God does not hear his cry when the long-delayed trouble falls on him. Such a man neither delights in God at any time nor calls on Him at all times.

Job's friends had accused him of hypocrisy, but he asks them about the hypocrite's end. Though he gained much in this world, what can he do when God takes away his life?... It is not in the character of such an evil man to truly call on God. Yet it was obvious to Job's friends that Job was crying out to God in his affliction.

His heart does not condemn him. Looking back over his past life, there is not a day whose record gives ground for reproach... But there is a sound of self-righteousness that does not fit with knowing oneself in the presence of God. Job is not there yet. It is the cry of an honest soul that does not fully see the light.

Job's friends had accused him of hypocrisy, but he asks them about the hypocrite's end. Though he gained much in this world, what can he do when God takes away his life? "Will God hear his cry when distress comes upon him?" (v.9). In fact, would a hypocrite delight himself in God to such an extent as to call upon God Himself? (v.10). It is not the character of such an evil man to really call on God, yet it was evident to Job's friends that Job was crying out to God in his affliction.

"Will he delight himself in the Almighty?" That is what Job did. "Will he always call upon God?" He called upon God even in that terrible distress… "You know very well that I have been clinging to God; you have heard my confession, and why do you charge me with something like hypocrisy?"

Sincerity lets the Christian do two things in affliction that the hypocrite cannot — speak good of God, and expect good from God.

"Will he always call upon God?" (Job 27:10). The hypocrite is often exposed here. An unsound heart will dabble with prayer now and then, but grows weary of the work at last, especially if he is made to wait a long time for an answer. Saul prays to God, and because he hears nothing from Him, he finally goes to seek the devil.

Faith enables the soul to persevere in prayer. "Will the hypocrite always call upon God?" (Job 27:10). No, he prays himself weary of praying; sooner or later something will make him quarrel with what he never really liked. But the sincere believer has something in him that makes it impossible for him to give up praying altogether, unless he also gives up believing. Prayer is the very breath of faith; stop a man's breath, and where is he then?

Job now turns to the end of the wicked. What hope has he when God cuts him off and takes away his soul? What shall be the end of the man to whom God says, "Fool! This night your soul is required of you"? Will God hear his cry when it is too late? Or has He not given the solemn warning, "I also will laugh at your calamity; I will mock when terror strikes you" (Prov. 1:26)? Is it too late to call upon God when the present opportunities have been put off for a "more convenient season" — which never comes?

This is still a painful temptation from Satan. When the soul is going through darkness, it often seems as if it could not pray — so different from what it once was. "There now," says Satan, "isn't that proof that you are nothing but a wicked person? Surely you must be a hypocrite." "For the company of the godless is barren, and fire consumes the tents of bribery." "The wicked man writhes in pain all his days." "Oh dear," says the believer, "that is exactly how it is with me. I do not enjoy prayer as I once did. I am filled with pain."

In the next chapter (Job 27) it would have been Zophar's turn; but although Bildad had very little to say, Zophar had nothing. He is out of the debate, and we shall find that Eliphaz does not return. Job now has it all to himself... They began with great vigour, confident that their judgment was sound. But Job had completely answered all their foolish talk, and there they sat silent. They were not yet convinced that they were wrong. They do what many people do — they shut up, say nothing, and still hold the same opinion. But God would not allow it to rest there. He brought them out of their hiding place and passed judgment on them. Later in the book it is through Job that they are saved from a terrible judgment, or even from death.

Job therefore realised that his friends needed teaching about the hand of God, so he would teach them (v.11). It was true that they needed such teaching. But Job himself needed teaching of a different kind than he thought his friends needed, for "the hand of God" is a tremendous subject. What Job knew about God's hand he would not conceal. But there was much indeed that he did not know, as we all must admit in our ignorance.

Some interpret the name as "Almighty in sustaining resources" (like a mother's breasts for her baby). It occurs 48 times in the Old Testament, and the book of Job accounts for no fewer than 31 of them. In that book the thought stands out above all others that the Lord is Almighty. That seems to fit the book well. In it we have the story of God's controversy with Job. He got no relief or blessing until he came to a right estimate of himself in the presence of God.

Here we reach the explanation of the apparent change in Job's attitude. Until now he had resisted the friends' arguments about the wicked. He did so because they kept linking him with their descriptions. He will now take up the same language himself. That shows how impossible it was to confuse a man like himself with the wicked they identified him with. It becomes in this way a most powerful reply to their charges.

"Will he take delight in the Almighty?" That is what Job did. "Will he call upon God at all times?" He called upon God even in that terrible distress... "You know very well that I have been clinging to God; you have heard my confession, so why do you charge me with hypocrisy?"

Job must know himself, as he never could have imagined otherwise. To know oneself is a very different thing from being converted to God, and it is necessary if we are to be fully blessed. Further, the friends had to learn as well as Job, being objects of a similar grace, though far below Job. They were godly men; but a man may be godly and yet never have really stood in the presence of God for himself.

Although Bildad had very little to say, Zophar had nothing. He is completely out of the debate... Job has it now all to himself. They began with great energy, full of confidence that their judgment was a sound one. But Job had answered all their foolish talk completely, and there they were silent. They were not yet convinced that they were wrong. They simply did what many people do: they stopped talking, with not a word left to say, and still held the same opinion.

Job realised that his friends needed teaching about the hand of God, so he would teach them (v.11). They did need such teaching. But Job himself needed a different kind of teaching from the kind he thought his friends needed, because "the hand of God" is a huge subject. What Job knew about God's hand he would not hide. Yet there was much he did not know, as we all must realise in our ignorance.

Still, he tells his friends that they had seen God's hand at work. Instead of thinking soberly about what these actions of God involved, they were behaving with complete nonsense! (v.12).

'You know very well that I have been holding on to God; you have heard my confession, and why do you charge me with a thing like hypocrisy?'

Their error was by no means unusual. You find it especially among the righteous, who know God but have never been thoroughly broken down about themselves... Here is where they went astray: they assumed that the present state of the world is an adequate expression of God's judgment of men's ways. This assumption runs through the speeches of the three friends. At first they expressed it calmly enough, but at last it hardened into severity.

Is not all this self-evident? Job asks them. Do they not know the Lord's ways? Why then do they indulge in such foolish and wrong thoughts as they had expressed, and charge him — a man whose uprightness they knew, and who was conscious of his own integrity — with having a character like the one he describes?

As he affirmed his own integrity and truth, he charged his friends with being the ones who spoke falsehood and deceit. He held fast to his righteousness with the utmost resolution. This "righteousness," as Job 29 will show us, was about his outward conduct. The searching light of God had not yet entered his soul. He had been charged with being a deceiver and a hypocrite. He knew he was not this, and he was not going to plead guilty to it for a moment. We too know that he was not. But outward correctness does not in itself count for righteousness in the presence of God.

Up to now he had resisted the friends in their arguments about the wicked. They always linked him with their descriptions. He will now take up the same language himself. It shows how impossible it was to confuse a man like himself with the wicked they identified him with, and so it becomes a most powerful reply to their charges.

They had proved themselves incapable of applying it fairly. So he would let them know the sure end of ungodliness: disasters, outside and inside, for the wicked man's children as for himself. They go on until every trace of ill-gotten gain vanishes. Then death opens the doom he cannot avoid — the doom of the man whom men, if not the wind itself, hiss out of his place, delighting in his destruction.

Here we reach the explanation of the apparent change in Job's attitude. Up to now he had resisted the friends in their argument about the wicked. They always linked him with their descriptions. He will now take up the same language himself. It shows how impossible it was to confuse a man like himself with the wicked they identified him with. It becomes in this way a most powerful reply to their charges.

"This is the portion of a wicked man with God." He has received wealth and pleasure and honour at the hands of man. But how different an inheritance they will get from the Almighty whom they have despised! Have his children multiplied? They are left to the devouring sword. Did they once live in luxury? They will come to lack bread.

So Zophar ends his speech, "This is the portion from God for a wicked man, the heritage appointed to him by God." There was a good deal of truth in what he said, but his inference that Job belonged to such a class of evildoers was not only unfair; it was inexcusably false.

Job dwells on a sorrow that in some ways looks like his own, and yet how different it is. He too had lost his children — but was that under the punishing wrath of God? And did Job act like these wicked men he describes here? They may gather silver and wealth like dust, only to have the righteous enjoy it — "The wealth of the sinner is laid up for the just." Was Job's case like that? ... Job can speak this way about the perishing things of this world's greatness. That shows he was conscious of a far different inheritance for himself. Let moth and rust destroy — he seems to say that he knows he has a better and lasting possession.

Job therefore realised that his friends needed teaching about the hand of God, so he would teach them. It was true that they needed such teaching. Yet Job himself needed a different kind of teaching than he thought his friends needed. "The hand of God" is an enormous subject. What Job knew about God's hand he would not hide, but there was much indeed he did not know, as we all must recognise in our ignorance.

In Job 27 he takes up another subject. It is not the glory of God, but the misery of the hypocrite and his terrible doom. He paints it in stronger colours than they had. Yet he still holds firmly to his own integrity, even though God had not yet cleared him, and they had been unjust.

In the later part of the chapter Job sets out a case with great force. They had it before their eyes just as much as he did, yet he must spell it out for them, since they had failed to lay it before him. It is the end of the godless — a subject he would have avoided if his conscience were not clear. They had toyed with the matter to no purpose. He would teach them about God's hand, and keep back nothing of what is with the Almighty. However many children the godless man has, the sword and hunger come for them. They fall unburied, and even those nearest to them do not mourn.

"This is the portion of a wicked man with God." He has received wealth and pleasure and honour from people. But what a different inheritance they will get from the Almighty, whom they have despised. Have his children multiplied? They are left to the devouring sword. Did they once live in luxury? They will come to lack bread. Death swallows up those who outlive them, and no friend mourns for them — "Their priests fell by the sword, and their widows made no lamentation" (Ps. 78:64).

And even if they go on and have their children multiplied, it will only be deeper sorrow in the end. "If his children are multiplied, it is for the sword, and his descendants have not enough bread," no matter what he may be taking for himself (and so on to the end of verse 19). All this is completely opposed to their reasoning, and in this way Job triumphs over them.

Job now declares the eventual doom of the wicked in language like that of his friends. But unlike them, he sets it against his own eventual end. They had spoken this way to mark Job out as wicked. His account of the wicked and their end actually shows that he cannot be one of them. Job's experience does look like the wicked man's, as in verse 14... Job's children had all died in a sudden disaster (ch. 1:18-19), but Job is looking beyond the present, to the eventual end of the wicked. His thoughts are surely inconsistent, since he had dwelt so much on his own present circumstances that he could hardly see further.

So Job dwells on a sorrow in some ways like his own, and yet how different. He too had lost his children, but was it under the punishing wrath of God?... Job can speak like this about the perishing things of this world's greatness. That shows he knew a far different heritage was his. Let moth and rust destroy what they will — he seems to say that he knows he has a better and more lasting wealth.

Here we reach the explanation of the apparent change in Job's attitude. Until now he had withstood the friends in their argument about the wicked, because they always linked him with their descriptions. He will now take up the same language to show how impossible it was to confuse a man like himself with the wicked they identified him with. It becomes in this way a most powerful reply to their charges.

"This is the portion of the wicked man with God." He has received wealth and pleasure and honour from people. But how different is the heritage they will get from the Almighty whom they have despised! Have his children multiplied? They are left to the devouring sword. Did they once live in luxury? They will come to lack bread. Those who survive them will be swallowed up by death, with no friendly mourning — "Their priests fell by the sword, and their widows made no lamentation" (Ps. 78:64).

"Those who survive him shall be buried in death, and their widows shall not weep." Some may have a little longer, but the grave will soon claim them. Their widows would not even weep, because they would feel no loss in the death of an evil husband.

He would teach them about God's hand, and not hold back what is with the Almighty. However many children he has, the sword and hunger come for them. They fall, unburied and unwept even by those nearest to them.

It is the end of the godless, a theme he would have avoided if his conscience were not good.

Job dwells here on a sorrow in some respects like his own, and yet how different. He too had been stripped of his children, but was it under the punishing wrath of God? And did Job act like these wicked men he describes here? They may gather silver and wealth like dust, only to have the righteous enjoy it — "The wealth of the sinner is laid up for the just." Was Job's case like that? ... Job can speak this way about the perishing things of this world's greatness. That shows he was conscious of a far different heritage for himself.

In the latter part of the chapter Job speaks with great force about a case they had in front of their eyes just as much as he did. But he has to explain it for them, since they had completely failed to set it before him. It is the end of the godless, a theme he would have avoided if his conscience were not good. They had trifled with the matter. He would teach them about God's hand, and not hold back what is with the Almighty... His treasures go to strangers who are worthy.

What cannot quiet the heart in a storm cannot entitle a man to blessedness. Piles of earthly goods cannot calm a troubled heart, so they cannot make anyone blessed. When Saul was in deep distress, could all the jewels of his crown comfort him? "They cast their silver into the streets… their silver and gold are not able to deliver them in the day of the wrath of the LORD" (Ezek. 7:19).

He may heap up an abundance of riches, like the rich man of Luke 12:16-21. That man said to himself, "Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry." But God said to him, "Fool! This night your soul is required of you, and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?" So one may pile up riches, but others, less foolish than he, will reap the benefit. The absolute folly of mankind is certainly clear in all this… What is 100 years compared to eternity?

A good man resembles Him who found him evil and by grace made him a partaker of a divine nature, escaping the corruption that is in the world through lust. Blessed of God, he leaves an inheritance — if not of gold and silver, then something better still, lasting to his children's children. The wealth of the sinner, great as it may seem, is laid up for the just. Ungodliness may prepare, plan, and pass it on; but God cares for those who serve Him. So the just shall put on the clothing meant for others, and the innocent shall divide the silver if He sees fit.

Job dwells here on a sorrow in some ways like his own, and yet how different. He too had lost his children, but was it under the punishing wrath of God? And did Job act like these wicked men he describes here? They may gather silver and wealth like dust, only to have the righteous enjoy it — "the sinner's wealth is laid up for the righteous."… Job can speak this way about the perishing things of this world's greatness. That shows he was conscious of a far different heritage for himself. Let moth and rust destroy — he seems to say that he knows he has a better and lasting possession.

Riches before God cannot exist without what men short-sightedly call impoverishing yourself. It means using what we have not for ourselves, but for others. Only such people are rich toward God, whether their means are great or small. If their means are small, they are still large enough to let them think of others in love and provide for needs greater than their own. If their means are great, their responsibilities are that much greater.

Job now goes on to declare the eventual doom of the wicked, in language like that of his friends. But unlike his friends, he showed this in contrast to his own eventual end. They had spoken this way to identify Job as being wicked. But his summary of the wicked and their end shows that Job cannot be one of them.

It is the end of the godless, a theme he would have avoided if his conscience were not good. They had treated the matter lightly and got nowhere. He would teach them about God's hand, and keep back nothing of what is with the Almighty… His treasures go to strangers who are worthy.

God blesses the good man, and he leaves an inheritance to his children's children — if not of gold and silver, then something better and lasting. The wealth of the sinner, great as it may seem, is laid up for the just. Ungodliness may prepare, plan, and lock up an inheritance for its heirs; but God cares for those who serve Him. So the just will put on the clothing meant for others, and the innocent will divide the silver if He sees fit.

He may heap up great riches. He is like the rich man of Luke 12:16-21, who said to himself, "Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry." But God said to him, "Fool! This night your soul is required of you, and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?" So one may pile up riches, but others, less foolish than he, will reap its benefit. The folly of mankind is plain in all this. We all know that our lives are very short at best. What is a hundred years compared to eternity?

They may gather silver and wealth as the dust, only to have the righteous enjoy it — "the sinner's wealth is laid up for the righteous." Was Job's case like this? Had the righteous obtained the wealth that once was his?… Job can speak like this about the perishing things of this world's greatness. That shows he was conscious of a far different heritage for himself. Let moth and rust destroy — he seems to say that he knows he has a better and more lasting possession.

Man may use his wits to take dishonest advantage of another, legal as it may be. He may lend money at high interest, or use other means that are not fully honest. But in the end he will lose it, whether before or at death. Then another may use it in compassion toward the poor. At least God will pity the poor, and greed will have its just recompense.

In the latter part of the chapter Job speaks with great force about a case they had before their eyes just as much as he did. He has to explain it for them, since they had completely failed to set it before him. It is the end of the godless — a theme he would have avoided if his conscience were not good. … His children, however many, meet the sword and hunger. His treasures go to strangers who deserve them. The house he built turns out as frail as a moth, like a shed the watchman puts up by the roadside.

The grand houses of the ungodly are like the frail dwelling of the moth. They will crumble into nothing. Or they will be like the watchman's passing booth, "like a lodge in a cucumber field."

A temporary booth or lodge, without stability.

He follows in his solemn description the course of the wicked to the end. The rich man lies down without realising it is for the last time. He lies down in his usual comfort. He opens his eyes on a new day, but not to take up the old work and pleasures again. He opens his eyes only to pass away. For so long his eyes had shut out everything God has testified. At last they open on another world — "and in Hades, being in torment, he lifted up his eyes."

So the rich unbeliever lies down. Then he opens his eyes to find himself in torment. Terrors overtake him like a flood, and the tempest of God's judgment carries him away (vv.19-20). This is graphic language. But Job is not as specific as the Lord Jesus was in Luke 16:23, about the rich man who died.

He still holds that all their imagining was false. He now says more solemnly than ever — it was a kind of oath — as God lives, this is true. "Far be it from me to say that you are right." Now he turns on them; he says, 'You are the guilty ones, not I.'

Job dwells here on a sorrow in some ways like his own, and yet how different. He too had lost his children — but was that under the punishing wrath of God? … Job can speak this way about the perishing things of this world's greatness. That shows he was conscious of a very different heritage for himself. Let moth and rust destroy — he seems to say that he knows he has a better and more enduring substance.

Later in the chapter Job speaks with great force about a case they could see just as well as he could. But he had to explain it for them, because they had completely failed to set it out for him. It is the end of the godless, a theme he would have avoided if his conscience were not good. They had dealt with the matter lightly and to no purpose. He would teach them about God's hand, and not hold back what is with the Almighty.

He keeps defending himself as he pictures the godless and contrasts them with himself. He shows that no one can count him among them. How could anyone ever apply this description of the godless to him? True, he had suffered as the wicked suffer, but will his end be like theirs? So he tries to show them that they had done him an injustice. He was an upright man who held on to God despite his misery.

Terror, so long kept at a distance as the warning voice of conscience spoke, now sweeps down upon him; as by a tempest in the night he is carried away. God brings him down, and men rejoice at the removal of their oppressor.

He lies down rich, and wakes up to his ruin before God. His destruction is as sudden as it is overwhelming. Terrors overtake him like waters. A whirlwind by night snatches him up and whirls him away, despite his pitiful efforts to escape, as if it mocked his misery and the place that once knew him.

The rich man lies down not realising it is for the last time. He lies down in his usual comfort. He opens his eyes on a new day, but not to take up his old work and pleasures. He opens his eyes only to pass away. Those eyes, so long closed to all that God has witnessed, at last open to another world.

So the rich unbeliever lies down. Then he opens his eyes to find himself in torment. Terrors overtake him as a flood, and the tempest of God's judgment takes him away (vv.19-20). This is vivid language. But Job is not as exact as the Lord Jesus was in Luke 16:23, about the rich man who died: "and being in Hades, lifted up his eyes." So after death there is torment for the wicked.

The grand dwellings of the ungodly, like the frail house of the moth, will crumble into nothing, or be like the watchman's temporary shelter, "as a lodge in a garden of cucumbers." The fact that Job can speak in this way of the perishing things of this world's greatness shows that he was conscious of a far different heritage for himself. Let moth and rust corrupt — he seems to say that he knows he has a better and more lasting substance.

So Job calmly describes an end which he knows is not his. What has made the difference? Is it not the faith which in the middle of all his distress has held fast to God? — a God whom he so little knew, and at whose afflictions he had complained.

In Job 27 he takes up another subject. It is not the glory of God, but the misery of the hypocrite and his terrible doom. He paints it in stronger colours than his friends had used. Yet he still holds firmly to his integrity, though God had not yet cleared his name, and they had been unjust.

Later in the chapter Job dwells with great force on a case his friends had in front of their eyes as much as he did. He has to explain it for them, because they had completely failed to set it before him. It is the end of the godless — a theme he would have avoided if his conscience were not good.

The east wind was harsh and destructive to plants (Genesis 41:6, 23, 27). It was dangerous to ships at sea (Psalm 48:7; Ezekiel 27:26). It is a symbol of the withering power of God's judgements (Hosea 13:15).

"The east wind carries him away" (v.21). The east wind is often spoken of in Scripture as signifying God's judgment (Ex. 14:21). That judgment is slow to arise, but when it comes, it "does not spare" (v.22). Men may try to flee desperately from its power, as they do from hurricanes, but to no avail. So after death there is torment for the wicked.

He lies down rich, and wakes to his ruin before God. His destruction is as sudden as it is overwhelming. Terrors overtake him like waters. A whirlwind in the night snatches him up and whirls him away, despite his pitiful efforts to escape, as if it really mocked his misery and the place that once knew him.

Terror had long been kept at a distance while the warning voice of conscience spoke. Now it sweeps down on him. A storm in the night carries him away. God brings him down, and men are glad their oppressor is gone.

So Job calmly describes an end which he knows is not his. What has made the difference? Is it not the faith which, in the middle of all his distress, has held fast to God? — a God whom he so little knew, and at whose afflictions he had complained.

Clearly Job had no fear at all of sharing a judgment like this. His friends should have seen that these things were not true of him. It would have been wise for them to apologise openly to Job for their cruel charges against him.

They had proved themselves unable to apply the case justly. So he would let them know the sure end of ungodliness. Troubles come, outside and inside, for his children as for himself, until every trace of dishonest gain is gone. Then death opens the unavoidable doom of this man. Men, if not the wind itself, hissed him out of his place, delighting in his destruction.

"The east wind carries him away" (v.21). The east wind is often spoken of in Scripture as a picture of God's judgment (Ex. 14:21). That judgment is slow to arise, but when it comes, it "does not spare" (v.22). Men may try desperately to flee from its power, as they do from hurricanes, but with no success.

The rich unbeliever lies down, then opens his eyes to find himself in torment. Terrors overtake him like a flood, and the tempest of God's judgment takes him away (vv.19-20). So after death there is torment for the wicked.

Terrors overtake him like waters. By night a tempest steals him away. An east wind takes him up, and he is gone. It sweeps him out of his place. It hurls at him and does not spare. He would gladly flee from its hand. It claps its hands at him, and hisses him out of his place.

His destruction is as sudden as it is overwhelming. A whirlwind by night snatches him up and whirls him away, despite pitiful efforts to escape, as if it mocked his misery and the place that once knew him.

Terror stayed at a distance for a long time while the warning voice of conscience spoke. Now it sweeps down on him. A tempest in the night carries him away. God brings him down, and men rejoice that their oppressor is gone.

He was at least as sure as they were that the hope of the hypocrite or the profane man must perish when God summons his soul. God does not hear his cry when the long-deferred trouble falls on him. In the same way, he neither delights in God at any time, nor calls on Him at all times.

The east looks like the source of the light. From the east comes also the sweeping east wind, spread over the land in the storm. It is a picture of wrath — the wrath of the same God who in the light had spoken so quietly. But He holds even the east wind in His fists, and controls it by His will.

So Job calmly describes an end which he knows is not his. What has made the difference? Is it not the faith which, in all his distress, has held fast to God? — a God whom he knew so little, and at whose afflictions he had complained.

Clearly Job had no fear at all of sharing a judgment like this. His friends ought to have easily recognised that these things would not be true of him. It would have been wise for them to apologise frankly to Job for their cruel charges against him.

"Men shall clap their hands at him, and shall hiss him out of his place" (v.23). Rather than sorrowing at his disgraceful death, those who have known him will be glad he is gone.

An east wind takes him up, and he is gone, and it sweeps him out of his place; and it casts at him, and spares not; from its hand he would gladly flee. It claps its hands at him, and hisses him out of his place.

death opened the doom he could not escape — the man whom men, if not the wind itself, hissed out of his place, celebrating his destruction.

"The east wind carries him away" (v.21). Scripture often uses the east wind as a sign of God's judgment (Ex. 14:21). That judgment is slow to arise, but when it comes, it "does not spare" (v.22). Men may try in desperation to flee its power, as they do from hurricanes, but it is no use.

So Job calmly describes an end he knows is not his own. What has made the difference? Is it not the faith that has held fast to God through all his distress? — a God he knew so little, and whose afflictions he had complained about.

Clearly Job had no fear at all of sharing a judgment like this. His friends should have seen at once that these things would not be true of Job. It would have been wise for them to offer Job an open apology for their cruel charges against him.

In the rest of the chapter we find Job enlarging upon the way God deals in judgment with the hypocrite. He had just about charged his friends with being hypocrites in their accusations against him. So his words appear to be a warning to them that this might be their own fate, something like what had happened to him.

This "righteousness," as Job 29 will show us, had to do with his outward conduct. God's searching light had not yet entered his soul. He had been charged with being a deceiver and a hypocrite. He knew he was not, and he was not going to plead guilty to it for a moment. We know he was not either. But outward correctness does not in itself count as righteousness before God.

Now in the next chapter (Job 28) we have a very remarkable addition — one of the most striking in the book of Job. It seems very abrupt. He now turns away from man altogether in his bad ways, and from defending those who really looked to God. He looks at the general state of mankind. Not any particularly evil class or righteous class.

Job speaks on. He now contrasts the doom of the ungodly rich, described in the chapter before, with the true riches, which can never be lost... The opening part of the chapter describes the toil and care with which men search for the "delved gold"... This chapter would prove that Job could not be the hypocrite his friends would make him out to be.

"Surely there is a vein for the silver and a place for gold where they find it." Men do not find gold in veins as they find silver. Gold comes in quite a different way — often as dust, and sometimes as nuggets. But silver runs in large and rich veins. "Iron is taken out of the earth, and brass is molten out of the stone." That is exactly where men find copper. Where we read "brass" it is very often "copper" — chiefly so in the Bible.

He speaks first of the treasures of the earth, the riches which man seeks after, but which do not last, and are so often man's undoing. Job shows that he had a good knowledge of mining operations. He knows of veins of silver and how gold is refined... Then he describes how the miner with his mining lamp makes an end to the darkness when he digs into the mountains and then he sinks a shaft... All this man does, risking life and comfort, to get gold and the treasures of the earth.

It is wealth, gold, jewels, glory, that man seeks after, and for which he is ready to barter his very life and soul... Of course, this does not mean that these precious things are sinful in themselves. Nor does it deny that we need their proper use. But the restless craving for them shows the poverty of man's heart, seeking what can never satisfy.

There is a mine for silver, the "current money with the merchant." How much labour goes into that shining white metal! In the East people use it widely as money. Sadly, of what it pictures — the redemption-price for the soul of man (Ex. 30:11-16; Ex. 38:25-28) — men know little and care less... Men also refine gold in the fire and make it into beautiful ornaments and the king's crown. They will travel to the ends of the earth for it. Most treat the true gold — the righteousness of God in Christ — as worthless.

"He binds the floods from overflowing; and the thing that is hidden he brings forth to light. But where shall wisdom be found?" No, there is no wisdom in all that. There is self in all that. There is what will make a man rich. There is what will bring money and perhaps standing. But where shall wisdom be found?

Men may discover much. Since Job's day they have discovered vastly more. But wisdom still escapes them. Suppose Job could have seen what men do and discover in our atomic age. He would say the same, only a hundred times more strongly.

"Iron is taken out of the earth, and brass is molten out of the stone." That is just exactly where copper is found. Where we read "brass" it is very often "copper" — and that is mostly the case in the Bible. He now gives us a remarkable sketch of mining in very early times.

He speaks first of the treasures of the earth — the riches man goes after. They do not last, and they are so often man's undoing. Job shows that he had a good knowledge of mining operations. He knows of veins of silver and how gold is refined. Iron is taken out of the earth and copper molten out of stone. Then he describes the miner with his lamp. He puts an end to the darkness as he digs into the mountains and sinks a shaft. He also mentions the dangers of mining — "they hang (suspended by ropes) far from men, they swing to and fro." All this man does, risking life and comfort, to get gold and the treasures of the earth.

God has seen fit to put these metals in places where men can find them without difficulty, and men certainly make much use of them. Yet they know little of the spiritual truths these metals stand for. Gold speaks of the glory of God. Silver speaks of the redemption that is in Christ Jesus. Iron speaks of the strength of the kingdom of God. Copper speaks of the holiness of God.

Iron, needed in every kind of work, takes hard labour to draw out of the dust of the earth. Man labours for these earthly necessities, but forgets Him in whom alone is strength. Brass, or copper, with its unyielding strength, was and still is melted out of the stone that holds it. But men place little value on the unchanging judgments of God.

This is a very remarkable chapter. It follows man's skill as he does all sorts of things — metalwork, engineering, holding back the floods, and bringing hidden things out of the earth. His skill is unlimited, in a way, over what is under his control — but this is not wisdom... God arranged all these things. So far as creation goes — that is, where man lives — He had wisdom about the things that occupy man. But He put man in relationship with Himself, that is more. Truly recognising this, and the exercise of conscience that follows — that is wisdom for man.

Men may discover much, and since Job's day they have discovered far more, but wisdom still eludes them. If Job could see what men do and discover in our atomic age, he would say the same, only a hundred times more strongly.

Man's daring resources, with covetousness behind, conquer all difficulties. The hard flint gives way to his hand. He overturns mountains by the root if they stand in his way, and cuts rivers through the rocks, to reach the precious things his eye sees.

Gold is not found in veins like silver. It is found in quite a different way — very often in the form of dust, and sometimes of nuggets. But silver lies in large and rich veins... "He sets an end to darkness." He now gives us a remarkable sketch of mining in very early times. "He sets an end to darkness, and searches out all perfection" — searching for these precious metals, gold, silver or the like — "the stones of darkness, and the shadow of death." That is, he goes down to the depths of the earth after them.

In his search after these treasures, man digs into the dark hollows of the earth with his lamp. He makes an end to the darkness as he goes into the farthest extremities (rather than "perfection") of the mines. He is searching for those ore-laden "stones of darkness" — stones hidden in the darkness. The depths of the earth are like the shadow of death, and often bury the tough miner in them, but nothing holds him back. Men will give their lives for gold.

He knows how to make his way despite the darkness, overcoming it with artificial light, no matter what the danger — a danger learnt every now and then at the cost of a life... Man's daring resources, with covetousness behind, conquer all difficulties. The hard flint gives way to his hand, and he overturns mountains by the root if they stand in his way.

They dig down. They divert the underground stream. They make paths where the strongest beasts and the sharpest-eyed birds have never been. But in all this searching they never find wisdom... Men may discover much. Since Job's day they have discovered an immense deal more. But wisdom eludes them.

"He holds back the floods from overflowing, and brings what is hidden out into the light. But where shall wisdom be found?" No, there is no wisdom in all that. There is self in all that. There is what will make a man rich. There is what will bring money and perhaps standing. But where shall wisdom be found?

What a very solemn thing that is! True wisdom and true understanding not found in the earth at all! It comes down from heaven. It is found only in Christ — and Christ had not yet come. This came out even more clearly in Christ's rejection and death.

"To man He said, Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to depart from evil is understanding" (v.28). The only reason that wisdom eludes people is this: "there is no fear of God before their eyes." So they have no heart to depart from evil. The fear of the Lord is not terror, but a wholesome reverence that gives Him the place of supreme honour.

Job shows that he had a good knowledge of mining operations. He knows of veins of silver and how men refine gold. Men take iron out of the earth and melt copper out of stone. Then he describes the miner with his lamp. The miner makes an end to the darkness as he digs into the mountains, and then he sinks a shaft. They are so far down that the foot passing above knows nothing of where they are. He mentions the dangers of mining too: "they hang (suspended by ropes) far from men, they swing to and fro." Man does all this, risking life and comfort, to get gold and the treasures of the earth.

He sinks a shaft into the earth in places away from civilisation (v.4), let themselves down by ropes, and swing to and fro with the object of finding the metal they desire.

"The flood breaks out from the inhabitant" — water there is very dangerous. So the great point is to get rid of it safely. They drain it or turn it aside so that they may work their mine. "Even the waters forgotten of the foot." That is, waters that people do not walk beside — not rivers and streams, but water deep in the earth. "They are dried up; they are gone away from men." That is the drainage, done to carry the work on.

He knows how to pursue his way despite the darkness, which he overcomes with artificial light. He goes on no matter what the danger — a danger learnt every now and then at the cost of life. We see the shaft formed far away from human dwelling. We see the means used to carry men where none could walk, suspended by ropes, it would seem, and swinging to and fro… Man's daring resources, with covetousness behind, conquer all difficulties.

Men will give their lives for gold. They are not content with the fertile earth that yields food for man's need… What man seeks after is wealth, gold, jewels, glory. For these he is ready to trade his very life and soul… The typical and spiritual teaching here is very clear: "But if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content." Of course this does not mean that these precious things are sinful in themselves, or that their proper use is unnecessary. But the restless craving for them shows the poor heart of man, seeking what can never satisfy.

They dig down, they divert the underground stream, they make paths untrodden by the strongest of beasts or the most keen-sighted of birds. But in all this searching they never find wisdom… Men may discover much. Since Job's day they have discovered a great deal more. But wisdom eludes them.

Again we ask: why will men not work like this for the "hidden wisdom"? Why will they not sift it out as it lies so close by, or, if need be, remove in faith the very mountains of difficulty… "The one who seeks finds" is still true. But the seeking and the finding are different from what the toil for gold would suggest. The wisdom is hidden, the way to it is not known, because God is not known, and men will not listen to Him.

Man knows nothing of wisdom; but it is not here… It is not in this world. It is not in man as he is. Eagerness after present objects only shuts it out… The answer comes at last from God Himself: "The fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding."

"As for the earth, out of it comes bread, but underneath it" — that is deep down in it — "is turned up as by fire. The stones of it are the place of sapphires" — precious stones as well as these metals — "and it has dust of gold." The birds do not enter into these depths. They go up into the heights, and they cross the whole surface of the earth. But they do not venture into the mines where man goes down. Not even the vulture.

The earth itself produces bread, that is, grain, though deeper down the earth is turned up as by fire (v.5). "Its stones are the source of sapphires" (v.6). Stones by intense heat produce precious stones, and gold dust is found where heat has been. Job suggests that man knows these things and takes advantage of them.

Men will give their lives for gold. They are not content with the fertile earth yielding food for man's need; they tear it and search its depths as a fire burning and destroying. Such seems to be the clear meaning of verse 5. It is wealth, gold, jewels, glory, that man seeks after, and for which he is ready to barter his very life and soul. Look at the history of the mining camps of modern times, and it confirms all that Job says. What greed, lust and violence rule in these places… What a contrast to the peaceful work of gathering the rich harvests God has provided on the very surface of the earth. The lesson pictured here is very clear: "Having food and clothing, with these we will be content." Of course this does not mean that these precious things are sinful in themselves, or that their proper use is unnecessary. But the restless craving for them is a sign of the poor heart of man, looking for what can never satisfy.

The chapter may be divided into seven portions. (1) The treasures of earth (vv. 1-6). (2) The hidden treasure (vv. 7-11). (3) Not revealed by nature (vv. 12-14). (4) Its priceless value tested (vv. 15-19). (5) Its report (vv. 20-22). (6) The Revealer (vv. 23-27). (7) The Revelation (v. 28).

The Lord then called on the disciples to gather their resources. He said to them, "How many loaves do you have?" He was about to show before their eyes His own saying, "To the one who has, more will be given." They answer, Seven. And these loaves the Lord took as the beginning of the food-supply for the people. He did not as of old call down bread out of heaven, but He made use of what came out of the earth (Job 28:5). To this fruit of human toil, already multiplied from the bare grain, He gave a further increase.

They dig down, they divert the underground stream, they make paths untrodden by the strongest of beasts or the most keen-sighted of birds. But in all this searching they never find wisdom. He raised this question in verse 12, and he was right that these human activities could not find it. Men may discover much, and since Job's day they have discovered a great deal more, but wisdom eludes them.

Men do not find gold in veins like silver. They find it in quite a different way — very often in the form of dust, and sometimes of nuggets. But silver they find in large and rich veins.

"Its stones are the place of sapphires" — precious stones as well as these metals — "and it has dust of gold." … "But where shall wisdom be found?" No, there is no wisdom in all that. There is self in all that. Here is what will make a man rich. Here is what will bring money and perhaps distinction. But where shall wisdom be found?

This might look like an extreme case. But in truth it is the all too common experience of the human race. Men chase an empty show. They are eager for every other object under the sun — yes, deep inside the earth and in the depths of the sea. And they overlook the wisdom that consists in the fear of the Lord and can never be separated from it, and the understanding that turns away from evil.

Job next contrasts the doom of the ungodly rich, as described in the previous chapter, with the true riches, which can never be lost. … The opening part of the chapter describes the toil and care with which men search for the "delved gold," which so often brings but the "strife and curse which fall over it." He then passes on to the true riches — wisdom; where shall it be found?

Men will give their lives for gold. The fertile earth yields food for man's need, but that does not content them. They tear it open and search its depths like a fire burning and destroying. … Man seeks after wealth, gold, jewels and glory, and he is ready to barter his very life and soul for them. … The lesson pictured here is very clear: "If we have food and clothing, with these we will be content." Of course this does not mean that these precious things are sinful in themselves, or that their proper use is unnecessary. But the restless craving for them points to the poor heart of man, seeking what can never satisfy. If only he had used the same earnestness in seeking the true riches, how different the result would be.

They dig down. They divert the underground stream. They cut paths that the strongest beasts and the sharpest-eyed birds have never walked. But in all this searching they never find wisdom. This is the question he raised in verse 12, and he was quite right that no one finds it in these human activities. Men may discover much. Since Job's day they have discovered far more. But wisdom still eludes them. If Job could see man's activities and discoveries in our atomic age, he would say the same, only a hundred times more strongly.

They gain a keen sense of what is worth something — though by no means are they always right. Sometimes the miners in our country have thrown away as rubbish what was just as valuable as all that their mind was set upon. But as a general rule they learn what is valuable.

Men will travel to the ends of the earth for gold — gold refined in the fire and made into beautiful ornaments and the king's crown. But most people treat the true gold, the righteousness of God in Christ, as worthless.

In this section Job speaks of things that are usually hidden from people, but which God brings to light (v.11). There is a path that no bird knows, though it can fly high above earth to observe what is below. No falcon's eye (which is amazingly keen) discerns it (v.7). The proud or fierce lion cannot force his way into it by his superior strength (v.8).

The birds go up into the heights and cross the whole surface of the earth, but they do not venture into the mines where man goes down... There is self in all that. There is what will make a man rich; there is what will bring money and perhaps distinction; but where shall wisdom be found? and where is the place of understanding? Well, it is not on the earth.

No eye so keen in nature as the vulture's; no animal so bold as the lion. But the boldness and long-sightedness of nature are not equal for the path of faith. Only an eye fixed on Christ as its one Object will give spiritual understanding.

True wisdom and true understanding not found in the earth at all! It comes down from heaven. It is found only in Christ... "The sea says, It is not with me... It is hidden from the eyes of all living, and kept close from the birds of the air."

A path that the sharpest natural sight, pictured here by the vulture's eye, has never seen must be a remarkable path. Such was the Lord's path here... That one path was a lonely one for the Lord while He was on earth. Foxes had holes, and birds had nests, but He had no pillow.

"I am he that lives and was dead, and behold I am alive for evermore," are His new titles and dignities. By them He has passed into a sphere beyond the vulture's eye, a sphere no bird knows, which the lion's whelps have not trodden, and where the fierce lion has never passed by.

The path of separation is too narrow for the natural eye to discern. The word of God lays down no broad lines to mark the Christian's way through this world. Only the spiritual eye can see the way out of it.

Like the path of death, it passes through a world of sorrow — yes, through the valley of the shadow of death. But unlike the path of death, it leads into the presence of the LORD, where there is fulness of joy and pleasures for evermore.

It cannot be that we must live in error, in darkness, or uncertainty. "There is a path," blessed be God, though "no bird knows it, and the vulture's eye has not seen it. The lion's whelps have not trodden it, nor the fierce lion passed by it." Where is this safe and blessed path? Hear the divine reply: "Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom: and to depart from evil is understanding." (Job 28)

In this section Job speaks of things more hidden from people normally, but which God brings to light (v.11). There is a path that no bird knows, though it can fly high above earth to observe what is below. No falcon's eye (which is amazingly keen) discerns it (v.7). The proud or fierce lion cannot force his way into it by his superior strength (v.8).

Delitzsch connects this portion (verses 7-11) closely with what goes before, as describing the search after earth's precious stores. Part of it does go into further details. But the similarity of verse 21 to verses 7 and 8 suggests that even this early in the chapter Job is hinting at his main theme — the true riches. Verse 12 confirms this thought.

Job 28 holds remarkable words about man's search after wisdom. In Job's day people mined for iron or copper, for gold or silver or gems, and it may have been a new pursuit then. They dig down, they divert the underground stream, they make paths untrodden by the strongest of beasts or the most keen-sighted of birds. But in all this searching they never find wisdom.

"But where shall wisdom be found?" No, there is no wisdom in all that. There is self in all that. There is what will make a man rich; there is what will bring money and perhaps distinction; but where shall wisdom be found? and where is the place of understanding?

In the path of God's will mere human wisdom and understanding will not help. It is a path no bird knows and no lion has trodden (Job 28:7-8). No eye in nature is as keen as the vulture's; no animal is as bold as the lion. But the boldness and long sight of nature are not equal to the path of faith. Only singleness of eye, with Christ as its one Object, will give spiritual understanding.

The wide deserts, where the proud lion roams with no fear of man, hold no treasure that the heart craves. The hermits, the "desert dwellers," have failed to get peace for their souls by their fasting and punishing of the body.

We turn now from nature to its Author, from creation to God. He knows the way, and He alone can reveal it to man. And it is not merely God as Creator, but as Revealer in the person of His Son — "I am the way, and the truth, and the life." … He has seen wisdom; no, He is that Wisdom.

It cannot be that we are forced to live in error, in darkness, or in uncertainty. "There is a path," blessed be God, though "no bird of prey knows it … the proud beasts have not trodden it." Where is this safe and blessed path? Hear the divine reply: "Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding." (Job 28)

Job returns to the search for treasure. He describes a fruitless quest, in which man takes hold of the rocks (possibly pebbles) and overturns the mountains. We see him washing and sifting the pebbles and sand, or blasting into the solid mountains. He cuts his way deep down, following the vein like a river in its course. He looks with greedy eyes at the rich shining treasures locked up in it.

This is a very remarkable chapter. It follows man's skill doing all sorts of things — metallurgy, engineering, damming the floods, and bringing hidden things out of the earth. Skill that is unlimited in a certain sense, in what is subject to him — but this is not wisdom.

They gain a keen understanding of what things are worth — though by no means are they always right... but as a rule they learn what is valuable. "But where shall wisdom be found?" No, there is no wisdom in all that. There is self in all that. There is what will make a man rich; there is what will bring money and perhaps distinction. But where shall wisdom be found?

Again we ask, why will men not labour like this for the "hidden wisdom"? Why will they not seek to sift it out as it lies so close by, or, if need be, in faith remove the very mountains of difficulty? The course of this world sweeps along like a river. If it would swallow up the true riches, why do men not stop it, or turn it away from them, so that they may take hold of this thing whose value is above all wealth?

They dig down. They divert the underground stream. They make paths untrodden by the strongest beasts or the sharpest-eyed birds. But in all this searching they never find wisdom... Men may discover much. Since Job's day they have discovered an immense amount more. But wisdom eludes them. If Job could see man's activities and discoveries in our atomic age, he would say the same, only with emphasis a hundredfold greater.

What a very solemn thing that is! True wisdom and true understanding are not found in the earth at all. It comes down from heaven. It is found only in Christ.

The depths of the earth will not reveal it, and its value far exceeds that of gold and rubies. God alone can declare its true nature and value: "And He said to man, 'Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding.'" ... So until God has His rightful place in a man's mind and heart, he cannot view anything wisely. His thoughts are off centre. His beginning is all wrong.

Man's daring resources, with greed behind them, conquer every difficulty. The hard flint gives way to his hand. He overturns mountains by the root if they stand in his way, and he cuts rivers through the rocks, to reach the precious things his eye picks out.

He cuts his way deep down, following the vein the way a river follows its course, and looking with greedy eyes at the rich shining treasures locked up inside. If water flows in, he finds a way to divert it, so that he can go after the hidden wealth he has uncovered.

They develop a very sensitive sense of what a thing is worth — though they are by no means always right. Sometimes miners in our country have thrown away as rubbish something just as valuable as the thing they were after. But as a rule they do learn what is valuable.

God's hand does what creatures cannot. He overturns mountains at the roots, to expose what lies hidden beneath (v.9). Through the hard rocks He cuts out channels, using water to wear the rock away. And in those rocks "He sees every precious thing" — which man would not discover until God saw fit to uncover it (v.10).

They dig down, they divert the underground stream, they make paths where the strongest beast and the sharpest-eyed bird have never walked. But in all this searching they never find wisdom. This is the question he raised in verse 12, and he was right to say that these human activities could not find it. Men may discover much, and since Job's day they have discovered a great deal more, but wisdom still escapes them.

No, there is no wisdom in any of that. There is self in all of it. There is what will make a man rich; there is what will bring money and maybe status; but "Where shall wisdom be found? And where is the place of understanding?"

Again we ask: why will men not work this hard for the "hidden wisdom"? Why will they not sift it out, when it lies so close at hand — or, if they must, remove by faith the very mountains of difficulty? If the sweeping rush of "the course of this world" would swallow the true riches like a river, why do men not stop it, or turn it aside, so that they may have for themselves what is worth more than all wealth? "The one who seeks finds" is still true, though this seeking and this finding are nothing like the hard work of digging for gold. The wisdom stays hidden and the way to it stays unknown, because men do not know God and will not listen to Him.

Coming back to the search for treasure, Job describes this fruitless hunt, in which man lays hold of the rocks and overturns the mountains… He cuts his way deep down, following the vein like a river in its course, and looking with greedy eyes at the rich shining treasures locked up inside. If water flows in, he finds a way to divert it, so that he can go after the hidden wealth he has now uncovered.

But God's hand does what creatures cannot. It even overturns mountains at the roots, to uncover what lies hidden beneath (v.9). In the rocks "He sees every precious thing," which man would not discover until God saw fit to expose it (v.10). On streams where man may expect to find treasure, He places dams that thwart men's intentions. But in the end, even what is hidden God brings forth (v.11).

"He dams up the streams so that they do not trickle, and the thing that is hidden he brings out to light. But where shall wisdom be found?" No, there is no wisdom in all that. There is self in all that. There is what will make a man rich; there is what will bring money and perhaps distinction; but where shall wisdom be found? and where is the place of understanding? Well, it is not on the earth.

Again we ask: why will men not work this hard for the "hidden wisdom"? Why will they not sift it out where it lies so close by, or, if need be, remove by faith the very mountains of difficulty? If "the course of this world" would sweep over the true riches like a river, why do men not stop it, or turn it away from them, so that they can have what is worth more than all wealth? "The one who seeks finds" is still true. But the seeking and the finding are not what the toil for gold would suggest.

"He can cut out channels among the rocks, and his eyes see every precious thing. He can dam up the streams, and bring what is hidden out to light" (Job 28). But he has lost the knowledge of God through sin, and lost all desire for that knowledge. "No one understands; no one seeks for God." The guilt is not in the capacity, but in the will. "People loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil."

True wisdom and true understanding are not found in the earth at all! It comes down from heaven. It is found only in Christ… There was a report of that One who is Himself wisdom, and who is the Giver of wisdom to the meek. It was by death that it came to us.

In Job's day people practised mining. It may have been a new pursuit then, whether for iron or copper, for gold or silver or gems. They dig down, they divert the underground stream, they cut paths that the strongest beasts and the sharpest-eyed birds have never walked. But in all this searching they never find wisdom. This is the question he raised in verse 12, and he was right to say that these human activities could not find it. Men may discover much. Since Job's day they have discovered far more. But wisdom still escapes them.

"But where shall wisdom be found?" No, there is no wisdom in all that. There is self in all that. There is what will make a man rich; there is what will bring money and perhaps distinction; but where shall wisdom be found? and where is the place of understanding? Well, it is not on the earth, and it is not down in the dark mines where men rush after what they value.

Man, frail mortal, does not know the price and does not have it to pay, for it is not found in the land of the living. If it were within reach, some would be able to reach it; some rich man would have the price to pay for it. But it is beyond man. "It is high, I cannot attain it." In the bottomless depths of the deep — "the waters under the earth" — the call for wisdom wakes only one reply: "It is not in me." The wide sea, for all its vastness, does not hold this priceless treasure. Nature, by itself, cannot give a single clue to this heavenly, wondrous good.

Where shall wisdom be found, and where is the path of understanding? It is not found in the land of the living. Destruction and death say we have heard a report of it with our ears. So they have. They tell us the emptiness of all the scene we are in, and, above all, of man at the head of it, the sorest place of all. But it is only negative.

"Destruction and death say, We have heard a report about it with our ears" (v. 22), but only a report, for wisdom itself is known only by a direct revelation from God.

God alone can declare its true nature and value. To man He said, "Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding." Solomon added to this later: "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge of the Holy One is insight" (Prov. 9:10). So until God gets His rightful place in a man's mind and heart, he cannot see anything wisely. His thoughts are off-centre. His beginning is all wrong.

True wisdom and true understanding not found in the earth at all! It comes down from heaven. It is found only in Christ, and Christ had not yet come. This came out even more in Christ's rejection and Christ's death… "Destruction and death say, We have heard a report of it with our ears." Yes, it was just that very thing. There was a report of that One who is Himself wisdom, and who is the Giver of wisdom to the meek. It was by death that it came to us, but they did not know it.

"He dams up the streams so that they do not trickle, and the thing that is hidden he brings out to light. But where shall wisdom be found?" No, there is no wisdom in all that. There is self in all that. There is what will make a man rich; there is what will bring money and perhaps distinction; but where shall wisdom be found? and where is the place of understanding?

Man, frail and mortal, does not know the price and does not have it to pay, for wisdom is not found in the land of the living. If it were within reach, then someone would be able to reach it; some rich man would have the price to pay for it. But it is beyond man: "it is high; I cannot attain it." Down in the bottomless depths — "the waters under the earth" — the call for wisdom goes out, and the answer comes back, "It is not in me." The wide sea, for all its vast expanse, does not hold this priceless treasure. Nature, by itself, cannot give even a simple clue to this heavenly, this wonderful good.

Where all is morally wrong and departed from God, there can be no right path. Adam did not need a path. He had only to stay where he was. When we have gone wrong, and are driven out by God, and so need a path, none can be found. There is none... Destruction and death say we have heard the fame of it with our ears. So they have. They tell us how empty this whole scene is, and above all how empty man is at the head of it, which is the most painful point of all. But it is only negative. This is an immense truth, that there is no way for living man fallen from God.

Does it not seem like a hopeless case for any poor ignorant mortal to search for this wondrous pathway? No, blessed be God, it is by no means a hopeless case, for "He understands the way to it, and He knows its place."

True wisdom and true understanding not found in the earth at all! It comes down from heaven. It is found only in Christ, and Christ had not yet come. This came out even more clearly in Christ's rejection and death... There was a report of that One who is Himself wisdom, and who is the Giver of wisdom to the meek. It was by death that it came to us, but they did not know it.

Yes, God knew the wisdom that was needed. When that "hidden wisdom" came out in Christ, and the world crucified the Lord of glory, then death and destruction heard its fame! It was at that wonderful Cross that God brought His attributes and His nature into harmony, so that sinful man could be blessed.

"And He said to man, Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding." ... So until God has His rightful place in a man's mind and heart, he cannot see anything wisely. His thoughts are out of centre. His beginning is all wrong.

In his days men were mining: it may have been a new pursuit then, whether for iron or copper, for gold or silver or gems. They dig down, they divert the underground stream, they make paths that no strong beast or sharp-eyed bird has ever travelled. But in all this searching they never find wisdom... Men may discover much, and since Job's day they have discovered far more, but wisdom eludes them.

But while man is told to seek, this wisdom is not found in nature, nor by human effort... Man, frail mortal, does not know and does not have the price to obtain it, for it is not found in the land of the living... In the deepest depths of the abyss — "the waters under the earth" — the call for wisdom awakens only the reply, "It is not in me." The wide sea, in all its vast expanse, does not hold this priceless treasure. Nature, on its own, cannot give even a simple clue to this heavenly, wonderful good.

True wisdom and true understanding are not found in the earth at all! It comes down from heaven. It is found only in Christ; and Christ had not yet come... "Therefore the deep says, 'It is not in me.'" There are silver and gold in the deep, and other things like them, and precious stones.

No, there is no wisdom in all that. There is self in all that. There is what will make a man rich; there is what will bring money and perhaps distinction; but where shall wisdom be found?

Moral things are greater than material things. Man is after all greater than the whole of the material universe. Inanimate creation cannot commune with God. Man can. Here stands his greatness, as given by God, and his responsibility.

The depths of the earth will not reveal it, and its value far exceeds that of gold and rubies. God alone can declare its true nature and value, "and to man He said, 'Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding.'"... Therefore until God gets His rightful place in a man's mind and heart he is incapable of viewing anything wisely. His thoughts are out of centre. His beginning is all wrong.

And yet, when once God is known, we find all nature eloquent of Him. Those depths below and above declare His glory and power. The "great and wide sea" tells of the depth of His wisdom, care and goodness... How sad it is to see men of vast knowledge, of profound reasoning powers, gazing into the glorious heavens and failing to find God or wisdom there... How blessed it is then to have the true wisdom — "Christ the wisdom of God, and the power of God."

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 confronts them: wisdom is not so easy to get. In fact, wisdom cannot be bought with gold or silver (v.15).

Something of such priceless value is now tested against everything man counts as treasure. Pure gold and silver, weighed out without limit, cannot buy it. The fine gold of Ophir, the precious onyx and the sapphire — "a king's ransom" — have no place here… We search all of nature in vain for anything to compare with it, for its price is above every treasure on earth. If only men saw this, so that they might find the one jewel of eternal value. Everything else is nothing without it.

In other words, nothing in nature can come near the value of true wisdom. True wisdom is spiritual, not natural… A person receives this wisdom only through faith in the Lord Jesus, as the Spirit of God reveals it. How wonderful this is, far above all natural understanding!

Again we ask, why will men not work like this for the "hidden wisdom"? Why will they not sift for it, when it lies so close by? Or, if they must, why not remove the very mountains of difficulty by faith? "The course of this world" rushes past like a river, and it would swallow the true riches. So why do men not dam it, or turn it away, so that they may have the one thing worth more than all wealth? "The one who seeks finds" is still true. But this seeking and finding are not like the hard work of digging for gold. Wisdom is hidden, and the way to it is unknown, because God is unknown, and men will not listen to Him.

What a very solemn thing that is! True wisdom and true understanding not found in the earth at all! It comes down from heaven. It is found only in Christ; and Christ had not yet come; and further, this is what came out still more by Christ's rejection and Christ's death.

God alone can declare what wisdom really is and what it is worth. He "said to man, 'Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding.'" Solomon said the same thing later: "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge of the Holy One is insight" (Prov. 9:10). So until God has His rightful place in a man's mind and heart, that man cannot see anything wisely. His thoughts are off centre. His starting point is all wrong.

"He dams up the streams so that they do not trickle, and the thing that is hidden he brings out to light. But where shall wisdom be found?" No, there is no wisdom in all that. There is self in all that. There is what will make a man rich; there is what will bring money and perhaps distinction; but where shall wisdom be found? and where is the place of understanding? Well, it is not on the earth, and it is not down in these dark mines where man is so quick to go after what he values.

Something of such priceless value is now tested by all that man counts treasure. Pure gold and silver, weighed out without limit, cannot buy it. The fine gold of Ophir, the precious onyx and the sapphire — "a king's ransom" — have no place here… Men ransack nature in vain to find anything to compare with wisdom, whose price is above all the treasures of earth. Would that men realised this, so that they might find the one jewel of eternal value. All else is nothing without it.

The two stones called "precious" have very significant places. The precious onyx is the first stone named in the Bible (Genesis 2:12). The same verse also mentions gold and bdellium, the substance manna looked like in colour (Numbers 11:7). We find the onyx on the shoulders and breastplate of the high priest in Exodus 28. It appears again in Job 28, in relation to wisdom. Later, in Ezekiel 28:13, it adorns with other gems the king full of wisdom and perfect in beauty.

Absolutely nothing in nature can approach the value of true wisdom, for this is spiritual, not natural… "But we impart a secret and hidden wisdom of God, which God decreed before the ages for our glory" (1 Corinthians 2:7). This wisdom is received only through faith in the Lord Jesus, by the revelation of the Spirit of God (v. 10).

What then is this wisdom, of such infinite value, and yet so unattainable? We shall be told in a little while by the Author of it. It must be enough for us here to say that it is the knowledge of the truth, the nature of all things, taken from God Himself. It is a knowledge which does not puff up, nor separate from God. It gives the soul a living principle of peace and joy in communion with Him.

It is useless to hope for a fair exchange. Men weigh out gold or silver in vain. No gem of Ophir will do, nor onyx, nor sapphire, nor golden glass, nor work of art in gold, nor coral or pearl, nor topaz, nor jewel of the clearest lustre… God understands its way and He knows its place… Yet He also laid down the foundation of all righteousness, and this for favoured man on earth to hear. It is to give God His rights. "Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding."

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 confronts them with this: wisdom is not so easily obtained. In fact, wisdom cannot be bought with gold or silver (v.15).

Job next contrasts the doom of the ungodly rich, described in the previous chapter, with the true riches, which can never be lost. The opening part of the chapter describes the toil and care with which men search for the dug-out gold, which so often brings only the "strife and curse" that fall on it. He then passes on to the true riches — wisdom. Where can it be found?

zekukith, Job 28:17: probably richly decorated glass, of the kind made in Egypt. Here it is listed with gold; but wisdom, the gift of God, is worth far more than such things.

A thing of such priceless value is now tested against everything man counts as treasure. Pure gold and silver, weighed out without limit, cannot buy it. The fine gold of Ophir, the precious onyx and the sapphire — "a king's ransom" — have no place here. Gold is named again, along with transparent crystal — "pure gold, like transparent glass" — jewels as beautiful as they are rare; corals, pearls, rubies — wisdom's price is higher than all of them. The topaz of far-off Ethiopia looks dull beside this bright jewel of God's glory. Men search all of nature in vain for anything to compare with what is worth more than every earthly treasure.

Job continues his subject of wisdom, saying that the finest gold (from Ophir) or onyx or sapphire stones, or crystal, or jewellery of fine gold have no value at all compared with wisdom (vv.16-17)... In other words, nothing in nature can come near the value of true wisdom, for wisdom is spiritual, not natural.

What a very solemn thing that is! True wisdom and true understanding are not found in the earth at all! It comes down from heaven. It is found only in Christ... "Therefore the deep says, 'It is not in me.'" There are silver and gold in the deep, and other such goods, and precious stones. "The sea says, 'It is not with me.'"

If man does not know its price, and if it is not to be found in the land of the living... then where am I to turn? If it cannot be bought with gold or precious stones — if the wealth of the universe cannot equal it, and no cleverness of man can discover it — where shall I find it?

Scripture urges people elsewhere to "buy," though "without money and without price" (Isa. 55:1)... In fact, the very terms of the gospel are that "the gift of God" cannot be obtained with money, or with anything that might count as its religious equivalent. Pride that will not take a free gift as a gift must be sent away empty.

A thing of such priceless value is now tested by everything man counts as treasure. Pure gold and silver, weighed out without limit, cannot buy it... corals, pearls, rubies — wisdom's price is greater than them all. The topaz of far-off Ethiopia looks dull beside this bright jewel of God's glory. Men search all of nature in vain for anything to compare with what is worth more than every earthly treasure.

No one knows for certain which precious stone this word means. Scripture uses it as a symbol of great worth: "the price of wisdom is above rubies"; the value of a virtuous woman is far above rubies. Job 28:18; Prov. 3:15; Prov. 8:11; Prov. 20:15; Prov. 31:10.

Job 28:18 is no exception, for gabiysh means crystal, not pearl.

No one on earth knows its price, and in fact it is not found in the land of the living. The deep says wisdom is not in it, and the sea says so even more strongly. There is no hope of trading anything of equal value for it. Weighing out gold or silver is useless. So is the gem of Ophir, or onyx, or sapphire, or golden glass, or fine work in gold, or coral or pearl, or topaz, or the jewel of clearest shine.

Why will men not work like this for the "hidden wisdom"? Why will they not sift it out when it lies so close by, or, if they must, remove the very mountains of difficulty by faith?... "The one who seeks finds" is still true, though the seeking and the finding are not what the toil for gold would suggest. The wisdom is hidden and the way to it unknown, because men do not know God and will not listen to Him.

Coral and quartz are not worth mentioning when we weigh the value of wisdom, and neither are rubies... In other words, nothing in nature can come near the value of true wisdom, for this is spiritual, not natural... 1 Corinthians 2:7 tells us, "But we impart a secret and hidden wisdom of God, which God decreed before the ages for our glory." We receive this wisdom only through faith in the Lord Jesus, as the Spirit of God reveals it.

The depths of the earth will not reveal it, and its value is far above gold and rubies. God alone can declare its true nature and value: "And He said to man, 'Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding.'"... So until God has His rightful place in a man's mind and heart, he cannot view anything wisely. His thoughts are off centre. His beginning is all wrong.

Something of such priceless value is now tested by all that man counts as treasure. Pure gold and silver, weighed out without limit, cannot buy it. The fine gold of Ophir, the precious onyx and the sapphire — a king's ransom — have no place here. Gold comes up again, along with transparent crystal — "pure gold, like transparent glass." These jewels are as beautiful as they are rare. Corals, pearls, rubies — wisdom's price is beyond them all. The topaz of far-off Ethiopia finds its shine dim beside this bright jewel of God's glory. Men search all of nature in vain for anything to compare with it. Its price is above every treasure on earth.

The Hebrew word is pitdah, and has been thought to come from an island in the Red Sea called Topazos. That would explain why the ancient versions call it 'topaz,' but the gem is thought to match our chrysolite. Job 28:19 speaks of 'the topaz of Ethiopia.' It was one of the jewels in the breastplate, Ex. 28:17; Ex. 39:10.

Man is in eager pursuit of what is rare in this world — a restless search after gold, silver and precious stones of every kind. But where is wisdom to be found? Man can steer his course across the waters. Man can cut a road through the rocks. He can level mountains and fill valleys to get what he wants. He can even go where the vulture does not fly and does not see... But where is wisdom to be found? The finest gold cannot buy it. The most precious gems and the finest works of art are no fair exchange. The treasures of the deep, even pearls, fail in comparison.

Coral and quartz are not worth mentioning, nor rubies either, in estimating the value of wisdom, nor the topaz of Ethiopia, nor any pure gold (vv.18-19). In other words, absolutely nothing in nature can approach the value of true wisdom, for this is spiritual, not natural... 1 Corinthians 2:7 tells us, "But we speak the wisdom of God in a mystery, the hidden wisdom which God ordained before the ages for our glory." We receive this wisdom only through faith in the Lord Jesus, when the Spirit of God reveals it.

If wisdom is not in creation, where does it come from? Where is the place of understanding, since it is hidden from the eyes of all living? The answer comes back: "God understands its way." And "destruction and death" had heard the fame of it. This is surely a hint of the Cross of Christ. Yes, God knew the wisdom that was needed. When that "hidden wisdom" came out in Christ, and the world crucified the Lord of glory, then death and destruction heard its fame!

There is a wisdom above man. "And to man He said: 'Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom; and to depart from evil is understanding.'" And that is exactly what a soul feels at conversion. He may know nothing more than that; he sees how he has been in almost all evil, and he departs from it.

But why speak of what all searching cannot find, or wealth cannot buy? The question of verse 12 is repeated, not hopelessly, but to show man how useless a merely natural search is. "From where, then, does wisdom come? And where is the place of understanding?" Nature does speak of wisdom, but it does not give it.

"He binds the streams so they do not overflow, and the thing that is hidden he brings out to light. But where shall wisdom be found?" No, there is no wisdom in any of that. There is self in all of that. There is what will make a man rich. There is what will bring money and perhaps distinction. But where shall wisdom be found? And where is the place of understanding?

They dig down, they divert the underground stream, they make paths that the strongest beasts and the sharpest-eyed birds have never walked. But in all this searching they never find wisdom... Men may discover much. Since Job's day they have discovered an immense amount more, but wisdom escapes them.

Job knew there is such a thing as wisdom, and people generally realise that wisdom exists. But where? All man's searching does not find it: "it is hidden from the eyes of all living" and even "concealed from the birds of the air" (vv. 20-21)... "Destruction and death say, We have heard a report about it with our ears" (v. 22), but only a report. Wisdom itself comes only by God's direct revelation.

If creation does not hold it, where then does wisdom come from? Where is the place of understanding, seeing it is hidden from the eyes of all living? In answer, we are told, "God understands the way of it"; also that "destruction and death" had heard the fame of it. This is surely a hint of the Cross of Christ. Yes, God knew the wisdom that was needed. When that "hidden wisdom" came out in Christ, and the world crucified the Lord of glory, then death and destruction heard its fame!

How true it is that those who think about their own end are near to wisdom, ready to receive the revelation which God gives. This is the wisdom that comes down from above, and is given to the meek.

We turn now from nature to its Author, from creation to God. He knows the way, and He alone can reveal it to man. And it is not merely God as Creator, but as Revealer in the person of His Son — "I am the way, and the truth, and the life."... He has seen wisdom; no, He is that Wisdom.

God alone can declare its true nature and value. "And to man He said, Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom; and to depart from evil is understanding."... So until God gets His rightful place in a person's mind and heart, he is unable to view anything wisely. His thoughts are off centre. His beginning is all wrong.

But while man is told to seek, this wisdom is not found in nature, nor by human effort. Where is wisdom found? Where does understanding live? Man, frail and mortal, does not know, and he does not have the price to pay for it, for it is not found in the land of the living. If it were within reach, some would be able to reach it; some rich man would have the price to pay for it. But it is beyond man... Nature, by itself, cannot give even one simple clue to this heavenly, this wonderful good.

Man can, no doubt, set his course across the waters. Man can cut a road through the rocks. In his eagerness for his own aims, man can level mountains and fill valleys. He can even go where the vulture never flies and never sees. He can break into places no wild beast ever enters... But where is wisdom to be found? The finest gold cannot buy it. The most precious gems and the finest works of art are no fair exchange for it.

Job knew there is such a thing as wisdom, and most people realise that wisdom does exist. But where? All man's searching does not find it: "it is hidden from the eyes of all living" and even "concealed from the birds of the air" (vv. 20-21). The birds fly high above man, yet they have no understanding of it. Remember too that the birds of the air picture spirits, and the unclean birds stand for unclean spirits. God's wisdom is beyond what these can grasp. "Destruction and death say, We have heard a report about it with our ears" (v. 22), but only a report, for wisdom itself is known only when God reveals it.

What a very solemn thing that is! True wisdom and true understanding not found in the earth at all! It comes down from heaven. It is found only in Christ; and Christ had not yet come; and further, this is what came out still more by Christ's rejection and Christ's death... "It is hidden from the eyes of all living and concealed from the birds of the air." It is not in the skies, as far as the eye can see them. "Destruction and death say, We have heard a report of it with our ears." Yes, that is just what happened. There was a report of that One who is Himself wisdom, and who is the Giver of wisdom to the meek. It was by death that it came to us, but they did not know it.

If it is not to be found in creation, where then does wisdom come from? and where is the place of understanding? seeing it is hidden from the eyes of all living. In answer, we are told, "God understands the way thereof"; also that "destruction and death" had heard the fame of it. This is surely an intimation of the cross of Christ. Yes, the necessary wisdom was known to God, and when that "hidden wisdom" came forth in Christ, and the world crucified the Lord of glory, then death and destruction heard its fame!

"And he said to man" — there is a wisdom above man — "Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding." That is exactly what a soul feels when it is converted. He may know nothing more than that; he sees how he has been in almost all evil, and he departs from it. A real sight of Christ is enough to do that by the Spirit of God, and the fear of the Lord.

The vulture's eye is keen, powerful and far-seeing, yet it has not seen it. The young lion is strong in movement and majestic in bearing, yet it has not walked there... The depth says, It is not in me, and the sea says, It is not with me. Gold and precious stones cannot buy it. All the wealth of the universe cannot equal it, and no cleverness of man can discover it. So where am I to turn? Where shall I find it?

The opening part of the chapter describes the hard work and care with which men dig for gold, which so often brings only the strife and curse that fall on it. He then moves on to the true riches — wisdom. Where can it be found? Searching earth or sea for it is useless, and all the wealth of the world cannot match it. Even the dark shadows of death can only witness that it exists. They do not tell how or where to get it.

Men may discover much, and since Job's day they have discovered far more, but wisdom escapes them. Suppose Job could see all that people do and discover in our atomic age. He would say the same thing, only a hundred times more strongly.

Revelation 9:11 shows this name to be the same as Apollyon, "the destroyer," whom it calls "the angel of the bottomless pit." It is perhaps not so much one of the names of Satan, as his character in person. It occurs six times in the Old Testament. Three times it goes with hell (sheol): Job 26:6; Proverbs 15:11; Proverbs 27:20. Once it goes with death: "Destruction and Death say," Job 28:22. Once it goes with the grave, Psalm 88:11. In all these passages, and in Job 31:12, it is translated "destruction."

"Destruction and death say, We have heard a report about it with our ears" (v.22), but only a report, for God alone makes wisdom itself known, by direct revelation.

Death and destruction cannot give positive wisdom. What they can show, from the other side, is that only what does not belong to mortal man has any value. A man sets up his family and keeps his name alive, but he himself is gone. Nothing stops the hand of death.

Nature does speak of wisdom, but it does not pass wisdom on... And yet, if the poet had had ears to hear, those graves would at least whisper back a hint. The present life was not all, and wisdom lies beyond time. "Destruction and death say, We have heard the fame of it with our ears." How true it is that those who think about the end of their life are near to wisdom, ready to receive the revelation which God gives.

True wisdom and true understanding are not found in the earth at all! It comes down from heaven. It is found only in Christ; and Christ had not yet come... "Destruction and death say, We have heard the fame of it with our ears." Yes, it was just that very thing. There was a report of that One who is Himself wisdom, and who is the Giver of wisdom to the meek. It was by death that it came to us, but they did not know it.

This is how death and destruction heard the fame of His wisdom: only God knows it (Job 28:22-23).

God alone can declare its true nature and value, "and to man He said, Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom; and to depart from evil is understanding."... So until God has His rightful place in a man's mind and heart, he cannot look at anything wisely. His thoughts are out of centre. His beginning is all wrong.

While man is told to seek, this wisdom is not found in nature, nor by human effort. The question is asked: Where is wisdom found? Where does understanding live? Man, frail mortal, does not know it and cannot pay its price, for it is not found in the land of the living. If it were within reach, then some would be able to attain it; some rich man would have the price to pay for it. But it is beyond man. In the bottomless deep, the call for wisdom wakes only one reply: "It is not in me." The wide sea, for all its size, does not hold this priceless treasure. Nature, in itself, is powerless to give even a simple clue to this heavenly, this wonderful good.

If wisdom cannot be bought with gold or precious stones — if the wealth of the universe cannot equal it, and no cleverness of man can discover it — then where am I to turn? where shall I find it?

If destruction and death can only say that they have heard its report, God understands its way and He knows its place. The universe in no degree distracts Him: He looks to the ends of the earth, He sees not only in but under the whole heaven. Nothing is too delicate or too vast for His knowledge and His rule. He gives the winds their weight and measures out the waters. He controls the rain and the lightning. Yet He also laid down the foundation of all righteousness, and this for man on earth to hear. It is to give God His rights.

We turn now from nature to its Author, from creation to God. He knows the way, and He alone can reveal it to man. And it is not merely God as Creator, but as Revealer in the person of His Son — "I am the way, and the truth, and the life." … He has seen wisdom; no, He is that Wisdom.

Yes, in all His creation He knows the way. Much more so in redemption: He is, in the person of His blessed Son, the way to Himself, and in Him all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge are hidden.

Until God gets His rightful place in a man's mind and heart, he is incapable of viewing anything wisely. His thoughts are out of centre. His beginning is all wrong.

Here, then, is the divine secret of wisdom: "the fear of the Lord." This sets the conscience directly in the presence of God, which is its only true place. Satan's aim is to keep the conscience out of this place. He works to bring it under the power and authority of man … He pushes something in between the conscience and the authority of Christ the Lord. It does not matter what it is. It may be a creed or a confession containing a quantity of truth — it may be the opinion of a man or a set of men — the judgment of some favourite teacher — anything, in short, that comes in and takes over, in the heart, the place that belongs to God's Word alone.

"God understands its way and He knows its place" (v.23). So Job rises high above the speculations of men, who by nature have no idea of wisdom. God alone is the Source of wisdom. He understands it in absolute perfection. He is the One who has established "the ends of the earth" and takes in all that is "under the whole heaven," as no creature can (v.24).

In his days people mined: it may have been a new pursuit then, whether for iron or copper, for gold or silver or gems. They dig down. They turn the underground stream aside. They open paths that the strongest beasts and the sharpest-eyed birds have never travelled. But in all this searching they never find wisdom… Men may discover much, and since Job's day they have discovered far more. But wisdom escapes them.

"For he looks to the ends of the earth and sees everything under the heavens. When he gave to the wind its weight." Man discovered that the air has weight many hundreds — yes, some thousands — of years after that. The philosophers of that day never thought of it; they knew nothing about it… God "apportioned the waters by measure," so the sea is never too full, whatever comes.

We turn now from nature to its Author, from creation to God. He knows the way, and He alone can reveal it to man. He is not only God the Creator. He is God the Revealer in the person of His Son — "I am the way, and the truth, and the life."… His all-seeing eye sweeps the heavens. He has given its weight to the unseen air and its set proportions to the water. He sends the gentle rain, and with it He gives the lightning its path. He has seen wisdom; no — He is that Wisdom.

God alone can declare its true nature and value. He "said to man, 'Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding.'"… So until God gets His rightful place in a man's mind and heart, he cannot view anything wisely. His thoughts are off centre. His beginning is all wrong.

"And he said to man" — there is a wisdom above man — "Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding." That is exactly what a soul feels when it is converted. He may know nothing more than that. He sees how he has been in almost all evil, and he turns from it.

"He looks to the ends of the earth, and sees under the whole heaven; to make the weight for the winds." It was many hundreds — yes, some thousands — of years later that man discovered the atmosphere has weight. It did not enter into the philosophy of the philosophers then; they knew nothing about it.

It is wisdom far higher than man's conception that "established a weight for the wind" (v.25). Air weighs nothing. Yet the wind has such tremendous weight that it can break rocks in pieces (1 Kings 19:11). God also "apportions the water by measure." Who could even think of measuring the water of the oceans? Yet our great Creator holds all these things under perfect control. Such mighty works show wisdom, no less than power.

"He weighs the waters by measure," so that no matter what comes, the sea is never too full. The circle of waters is always going on. Waters rise up as vapour, and in vast quantities. The power of the sun acts on the waters, and many tons go up every day. There was a measure for it all, in God's mind.

The average height of land above water is 2,300 feet. The average depth of water is 13,000 feet. God in His wisdom planned the right proportion of land and water. This keeps the true balance of nature. With more land and less water, long drought would have followed. Farmers could not have grown good crops, cattle would have died for want of pasture and water, and the earth would have been scorched. With more water and less land, constant flooding would have been the result.

"God understands its way and He knows its place" (v.23). So Job rises high above the speculations of men, who by nature have no idea of wisdom. God alone is the Source of wisdom. He understands it in absolute perfection — He who has established "the ends of the earth" and contemplates all that is "under the whole heaven," as no creature possibly can (v.24).

How sad it is to see men of vast knowledge and deep reasoning powers. They gaze into the glorious heavens and fail to find God or wisdom there. They analyse the dust of the earth, yet do not perceive Him who "worked by weight and measure." The words of the apostle state the solemn fact: "the world did not know God through wisdom" (1 Corinthians 1:21). How blessed it is then to have the true wisdom — "Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God." We come to know Him through that cross, which sets aside all of man's pride, his wisdom and his righteousness.

He appointed the wind its weight — a remarkable thought and word for these days. He measured out the waters. He controls the rain and the lightning. Yet He also laid down the foundation of all righteousness, and this for favoured man on earth to hear. It is to give God His rights. "The fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding." It is to be subject morally to God as Master.

His all-seeing eye sweeps the heavens. He has given its weight to the invisible air, and its appointed proportions to the water. He sends the gentle rain, and with it gives a course to the lightning's flash. He has seen wisdom; no — He is that Wisdom.

"He made a law for the rain" (v.26) — a law fixing how and when God releases it, and exactly where. Man has no power at all to change that law. Nor does man understand why God holds back the rain at certain times and places. Nor does he understand why God sends too much rain at times and places of His own choosing. All of it follows the laws of nature that God has set up. "A path for the thunderbolt" shows that thunder is not random, but always under wise supervision. All of this declares God's wisdom (v.27). He prepared wisdom, He searched it out, and left no part of how it works without His fullest consideration.

It was many hundreds, yes, some thousands of years after Job's day when man discovered that the atmosphere had weight. It never entered the thinking of the philosophers of that time; they knew nothing about it. "He weighs the waters by measure," so that no matter what comes, the sea is never too full.

How accurate these ancient Scriptures are about science. They speak of vapours gathered from the ends of the earth — a worldwide area. They speak of the tendency of those vapours to rise. They speak of electrical discharge, which turns the vapour into many waters in the heavens. It is indeed most striking! People have often said that the Scriptures were not given to teach science; but when they do touch on science, they make no mistakes.

The universe does not distract Him in the least. He looks to the ends of the earth. He sees not only in but under the whole heaven. Nothing is too fine or too vast for His view and rule. He gave the winds their weight — a remarkable thought and word for these days. He measured out the waters. He controlled the rain and the lightning. And He still laid down the foundation of all righteousness, and He did this for man on earth, whom He favoured, to hear.

They dig down, they divert the underground stream, they cut paths where the strongest beasts and the sharpest-eyed birds have never walked. But in all this searching they never find wisdom... Men may discover much, and since Job's day they have discovered a great deal more, but wisdom eludes them.

The only reason that wisdom eludes people is that "there is no fear of God before their eyes," so that they have no heart to depart from evil. The fear of the Lord is not terror, but a wholesome reverence that gives Him the place of supreme honour.

And that is exactly what a person feels when he is converted. He sees how he has been in almost all evil, and he departs from it. The fear of the Lord and departing from evil are what stay, even when souls are not taken up with their evil and talking about it.

Suppose it is hidden from the eyes of all living, and concealed from the birds of the heavens. Suppose destruction and death can only say that they have heard a report of it. God still understands its way, and He knows its place. The universe does not distract Him in the least. He looks to the ends of the earth. He sees not only in but under the whole heaven. Nothing is too delicate or too vast for His sight and His rule.

In all this God declares His wisdom (v.27). He prepared wisdom, He searched it out, leaving not one part of its working without the fullest consideration. Does this not fill our souls with wondering admiration?

"He weighs the waters by measure," so that no matter what comes, the sea is never too full. The circle of waters is always going on. Water rises as vapour in vast quantities, because the power of the sun acts on the waters. Many tons go up every day. There was a measure for it all, in God's mind.

Man discovered that the atmosphere had weight many hundreds, yes, some thousands of years later. But it did not enter into the philosophy of the philosophers then; they knew nothing about it.

"God understands the way to it." Yes, in all His creation He knows the way. Much more so in redemption: in the person of His blessed Son, He is the way to Himself. In Him all the treasures of wisdom and of knowledge are hidden.

This is a very solemn thing! True wisdom and true understanding are not found in the earth at all! It comes down from heaven. It is found only in Christ.

What an unspeakable mercy for someone who really wants to walk with God, to know that there is a way for him to walk in! God has prepared a pathway for His redeemed. In it they may walk with all possible certainty, calmness and steadiness.

"And He said to man" — there is a wisdom above man — "Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding." That is exactly what a soul feels at conversion. He may know nothing more than that. He sees how he has been in almost all evil, and he departs from it. A real sight of Christ is enough to do that, by the Spirit of God and the fear of the Lord.

They dig down, they turn aside the underground stream, they cut paths that the strongest beasts have never walked and the sharpest-eyed birds have never seen. But in all this searching they never find wisdom... Men may discover much, and since Job's day they have discovered far more, but wisdom still escapes them. If Job could see all that people do and discover in our atomic age, he would say the same, only a hundred times more strongly.

There is no wisdom in all that. There is self in all that. There is what will make a man rich; there is what will bring money and perhaps distinction; but where shall wisdom be found?

The universe does not distract Him at all. He looks to the ends of the earth, and He sees not only in but under the whole heaven. Nothing is too delicate or too vast for His sight and rule. He gives the wind its weight (surely a remarkable thought and word for these days). He measures out the waters. He controls the rain and the lightning. Yet just as truly He laid down the foundation of all righteousness, and this for man on earth to hear. It is to give God His rights... It is to be morally subject to God as Master, fearing Him and turning from evil — the true wisdom and understanding of man.

The fear of the Lord (Adonai, the supreme Ruler and Master) is wisdom. It is bowing low in humility before Him, in whose presence seraphim cover their faces... This fear is not mere dread, but reverence, submission, worship. It includes repentance... To know God in this way prepares for, and includes, knowing His mercy and grace toward us — the full knowledge of the gospel. It is not knowledge of God, but being brought to Him, and learning His grace and love. This is more than mere knowledge; it is the key to it; it is eternal life.

Wisdom escapes people for one reason only: "there is no fear of God before their eyes." So they have no heart to turn from evil. The fear of the Lord is not terror, but a wholesome reverence that gives Him the place of supreme honour.

That is exactly what a soul feels at conversion. He may know nothing more than that. He sees that he has been in almost every evil, and he turns away from it. A real sight of Christ is enough to do that by the Spirit of God, and the fear of the Lord. That is what lasts, even when souls are no longer taken up with their evil and talking about it — the fear of the Lord and turning from evil.

This sets the conscience directly in the presence of God, which is its only true place. Satan's aim is to keep the conscience out of this place — to bring it under the power and authority of man, to push something in between the conscience and the authority of Christ the Lord. It does not matter what it is. It may be a creed or a statement of faith with a great deal of truth in it. It may be the opinion of one man or of a group of men... God's Word must rule me — God's pure and simple Word, not man's explanation of it.

The Old Testament uses the word 'parable' many times for figurative language where no distinct parable is told. So Balaam 'took up his parable', Numbers 23:7, 18, and Job 'continued his parable', Job 27:1; Job 29:1.

A fresh discourse of Job begins here, and it is his final one. It divides into the three chapters that follow. Each presents a distinct portion, and the whole is a very complete summary of the case as it now appeared to the sufferer's spirit. He looks back over his past life, when divine favour lavished on him every enjoyment an upright soul could desire on earth. That favour showed in the relief of the needy and distressed quite as much as in the honour he had from everyone who knew him. Then in Job 30 he contrasts his present degradation. He is an object of scorn even to the young, and has no comfort within. The bitterest part of his cup is that he cries to God and gets no answer, while God's strong hand puts him down. Yet in Job 31 he denies, with the utmost detail and solemnity, any awareness of secret sin.

Eliphaz did not deal in vague hints. He stated Job's wrongdoing toward the needy, the naked, the weary, the hungry, the widow and the fatherless. In Job 29, Job answers these charges, and he is just as clear in declaring how well he had acted toward these very people.

If we have to look back to the past for marks of God's favour, that is nearly always a sign of present weakness. It tends to go with pride in that past and discouragement in the present… The manna of yesterday will not do for today. The bright light of yesterday's candle is the burnt wick of today. A present Christ in all His fulness, and a present Spirit bringing the Word to our need — these are the believer's proper subject and business. So from the very start Job is looking in the wrong direction.

The words Job had spoken were wholesome words, but now he goes back to the old complaint of self-occupation, self-pity and self-vindication. Some twenty times he says 'I' in this chapter. Looking back is good if we do it with praise and humility. Not once does Job utter a word of praise. It is all spoken to remind his friends, as well as himself, what a great man he was. How often it happens with the Lord's servants that they live in the past and then nourish a most subtle pride.

Turn for a moment to Job 29. You will see plainly what a strong and deep root of self-satisfaction there was in the heart of this dear and valued servant of God. The very tokens of divine favour that surrounded him fed that root. This chapter is a moving lament over the faded light of other days. Its very tone and character prove how necessary it was that Job should lose everything, so that he might learn himself in the searching light of God's presence.

Job now gives his last speech — his greatest effort to justify himself. Read chapters 29–31, and you will say that if any man could have justified himself by good works, Job was the man. There is not a man in your whole town who can say as much as Job said, and say it truly. As to his kindness to the poor, he was the very opposite of the lying charges brought against him. So he lets memory recount every good act of his life, but it all fails to give rest to his troubled spirit. I, I, I — I did this, I did not do that. But it is all of no use.

Job now gives his last speech — his greatest effort to justify himself. Yes, this was the reason all his trial and sorrow were needed. His words are very touching. "Oh, that I were as in the months of old … as I was in my prime." It is not, Oh that it were with me, but, Oh that I was. How like the mistaken longings of a soul being driven from self to Christ. There is a peculiar, deceptive pleasure in being satisfied with oneself.

Job then sets before us a beautiful account of his earlier life. God shone on the days and months as they glided by. His lamp was above his head, and His light let him walk through darkness. He especially recalls the days of his harvest — the days of maturity, not youth. Then he enjoyed the familiar presence and counsel of God over his tent life.

This is truly a remarkable speech. We look in vain for any breathing of a broken and contrite spirit here. There are no signs of self-loathing, or even of self-distrust. In this single chapter, Job refers to himself more than forty times, while the references to God are only five.

Job 29 has become one of the great "I" chapters of the Bible. Ecclesiastes 2 is Solomon's "I" chapter. That pronoun occurs 16 times in the first 9 verses. It is the true chapter of the self-gratified "I". Job 29 is the chapter of the self-satisfied "I". Romans 7 is of course the chapter of the self-condemned "I". And to be self-condemned is far better than to be self-gratified or self-satisfied. Best of all is to be self-eclipsed, as we find Paul to be in Philippians 3.

Job was a godly man. There was no one like him in his generation. But in his soul a rapid current was flowing. Not that he was self-righteous or worldly in the usual sense. He was truly a believer, and a generous friend and benefactor. But he valued his circumstances in life, and his standing among men. In the hidden workings of his heart, he used to survey his fine condition with satisfaction. His neighbours had not traced the course of that stream, but his heavenly Father had. He loved him, and He wanted him to share His holiness. All this was inconsistent with that holiness, so He put him into His own school to exercise him.

And so he looks back: "Oh, that I were as in the months of old." God was going to do far better. Job went through very severe sifting, but that was all for his good. … "When the Almighty was yet with me, when my children were about me." Was He not with him then? That is exactly what he did not see or know. "Whom He loves He chastens" — and that is one of the great lessons of the Book of Job. I admit it was terrible chastening. And that is where the friends were all wrong; it was so severe that they thought it was punishment.

It is disappointing that some Christians seem so satisfied when they speak of a power they knew in early years long past. They gravely tell us that it has now passed away. They are ready to cry out with Job, "Oh, that I were as in the months of old." All this is sad, since it helps neither themselves nor anyone who hears them. Job's experience was very different from that of the wise man who lived even earlier than Paul. That man declares that "the path of the righteous is like the light of dawn, which shines brighter and brighter until full day." As you come nearer to what you long for, the way grows brighter and brighter.

Job gives us a beautiful account of his earlier life. God shone on the days and months as they slipped by. His lamp stood above his head, and His light let him walk through darkness. He especially recalls the days of his harvest — his maturity, not his youth — when he enjoyed the familiar presence and counsel of God over his tent life.

Used in the Old Testament for any light, either real or symbolic. Job said of God, "when his candle shined upon my head" (Job 29:3). Of the wicked it says, "the candle of the wicked shall be put out" (Proverbs 24:20). But of the wise woman it says, "her candle goes not out by night" (Proverbs 31:18).

It is nearly always a sign of present decline if we have to look back to the past for marks of God's favour. It usually goes with pride in that past and with discouragement in the present. In the things of God, we enjoy His personal favour. His lamp shines about us now. His blessing rests on our trouble, and the future opens sweetly before us — "we rejoice in hope of the glory of God." … The manna of yesterday will not do for today. The bright light of yesterday's candle is the burnt wick of today.

Now it is always a bad sign when people look back to dwell on the past. Are people not to grow? … No doubt it is very true that one is plucked out of the teeth of Satan; but what is that compared with the positive knowledge of God? … It is a sad thing when a person looks back on that rescue as the brightest of all things. Why, that means he has made no progress at all.

"When the Almighty was yet with me, when my children were all around me." Was He not with him then? That is just what he did not see or know. "The Lord disciplines the one He loves" — and that is one of the great lessons of the Book of Job.

This is truly a most remarkable thing to say. We look in vain for any sign of a broken and contrite spirit here. There are no evidences of self-loathing, or even of self-distrust. We cannot find so much as a single expression of conscious weakness and nothingness. In the course of this single chapter, Job refers to himself more than forty times, while the references to God are only five.

Job's experience was very different from that of the wise man, who lived long before Paul. He declares that "the path of the righteous is like the light of dawn, which shines brighter and brighter until full day." And this is how it should be. As we come nearer to what we long for, the way grows brighter and brighter. However bright His presence made the past, I am nearer to Him now. So why should I long for the return of those days of shadow and darkness, days He once led me through?

Verse 4 says, word for word, "in the days of autumn." It does not point to the start of the civil year. It points to the rich time of harvest, of ripe maturity, when everything around him was prosperous. His children, as described in the first chapter, were around him, and he enjoyed his resources in full abundance.

He lived here with his children in tents, and died in faith, longing for a heavenly country... But God was clearly with him. His lamp, as Job puts it, shone on his head, and it is wonderful and blessed indeed that the secret of God was on his tent. This was all the glory he had now, but it was holy glory. The Lord told him of His ways, and promised him everything.

After these wise words, Eliphaz plunged into a series of accusations against Job. God Himself had spoken well of Job at the start of the story, so the charges must have been completely false... Eliphaz did not deal in vague hints. He stated Job's wrongdoing toward the needy, the naked, the weary, the hungry, the widow and the fatherless. In Job 29, Job answers these things, and he is just as plain in declaring how well he had acted toward these very people.

It is nearly always a sign of present weakness when we have to look back to the past for marks of God's favour. It usually goes with pride in that past, and with discouragement in the present... The manna of yesterday will not do for today. The bright light of yesterday's candle is the burnt wick of today. A present Christ in all His fulness, and a present Spirit ministering the Word to our need — these are the believer's proper theme and occupation. So Job, right at the start, is looking in the wrong direction.

Sometimes under pressure I see more of the wisdom of God and His way. The more I see, the more depressed I become, if I cannot connect myself acceptably with God. So I turn back to my own history, and become taken up with myself. That is why Job in Job 29 dwells on the past. This is always evidence that the soul is not right with God. If it were going on with Him, it would have greater things than the past to tell.

This is truly a most remarkable statement. We look in vain here for any sign of a broken and contrite spirit. There is no self-loathing, not even self-distrust, and not one word of conscious weakness and nothingness. In the course of this single chapter, Job refers to himself more than forty times, while the references to God are only five.

Job 29 has become one of the great "I" chapters of the Bible. Ecclesiastes 2 is Solomon's "I" chapter... the chapter of the self-gratified "I." Job 29 is the chapter of the self-satisfied "I." Romans 7 is of course the chapter of the self-condemned "I." And to be self-condemned is far better than to be self-gratified or self-satisfied. Best of all is to be self-eclipsed, as we find Paul to be in Philippians 3.

Some Christians seem satisfied as they speak of a power they knew in years long past, and which, they gravely tell us, has now passed away. All this is sad, since it helps neither themselves nor anyone who hears them... "the path of the righteous is like the light of dawn, which shines brighter and brighter until full day." And surely this is as it should be. As we come nearer to the object of desire, the way becomes brighter and brighter. However bright the past was through His presence, I am nearer to Him now. So why should I miss those days of shadow and darkness, or long for them to come back — days He once led me through?

Verse 4 literally says, "in the days of autumn." It does not mean the start of the civil year. It means the rich time of harvest, of ripe maturity, when everything around him was prosperous. His children, as the first chapter describes, were around him, and he took full delight in his abundant resources.

When His lamp shone over my head — / by His light I walked through darkness; / as I was in the days of the harvest, / when God's close friendship was over my tent; / while the Almighty was still with me, / my young ones around me.

His circumstances were so pleasant that he took them as evidence of God's presence with him. But now his children were gone. His home life was in ruins. Even his wife had been no help to him in his trouble (ch.19), though he does not even mention her.

"When the Almighty was yet with me, when my children were all around me." Was He not with him then? That is just what Job did not see or know. "Whom He loves He disciplines"; and that is one of the great lessons of the Book of Job. I admit it was terrible discipline. And that is where the friends were all wrong. It was so terrible that they thought it was punishment for sin. They thought no one could suffer that much unless he had been extremely wicked.

In this single chapter, Job refers to himself more than forty times, while God is mentioned only five times. All the "I" reminds us of Romans 7. But there is an immense difference. In Romans 7, "I" is a poor, weak, good-for-nothing, wretched creature standing before the holy law of God. In Job 29, "I" is a most important and influential man, admired and almost worshipped by those around him.

In Job 29 you can see clearly what a strong, deep root of self-satisfaction there was in the heart of this dear and valued servant of God. You can see how the very signs of God's favour all around Job fed that root.

If we have to look back to the past for marks of God's favour, it is almost always a sign that we are weak right now. It usually goes with pride in that past and with discouragement in the present. In the things of God, we enjoy His personal favour now. His lamp shines on us now. His blessing rests on our present trouble... Yesterday's manna will not do for today. The bright light of yesterday's candle is today's burnt wick.

Because Job's conduct had been a model to others, and he could be relied on, he felt quite sure that his prosperity would go on without a break... How differently things turned out! Do we also think we can lean on past experience to carry us into the future? If so, we forget that we depend on the grace of God at every moment.

This was curdled milk. Genesis 18:8; Deuteronomy 32:14. Jael brought Sisera "butter" to drink, Judges 5:25; and Job in Job 29:6 speaks of his steps being washed with butter when the Almighty was with him in prosperity. The promised land was to flow with milk and honey: compare Job 20:17. Curdled milk is a common drink in the East, and when mixed with honey is very pleasant.

His circumstances were so pleasant that he considered this as evidence of God's presence with him. But now his children were gone. His home life was all but destroyed, and even his wife had been no help to him in his trouble (ch. 19) — though he does not even mention her. But in contrast to his present circumstances, his steps were bathed with cream and he was figuratively blessed with "rivers of oil."

It is nearly always a sign of present weakness if we are forced to look backward to the past for marks of God's favour. It tends to be joined with pride in that past, as well as with discouragement in the present. In the things of God, we enjoy His personal favour. His lamp shines about us now. His blessing rests on our trouble, and the future opens out before us — "we rejoice in hope of the glory of God." … The manna of yesterday will not do for today. The bright light of yesterday's candle is the burnt wick of today. … Job at the outset is looking in the wrong direction.

This is truly a most remarkable utterance. We look in vain for any breathings of a broken and contrite spirit here. There are no evidences of self-loathing, or even of self-distrust. We cannot find so much as a single expression of conscious weakness and nothingness. In the course of this single chapter, Job refers to himself more than forty times, while the references to God are only five. It reminds us of Romans 7, where "I" also dominates. But there is a huge difference. In Romans 7, "I" is a poor, weak, good-for-nothing, wretched creature standing before God's holy law. In Job 29, "I" is a most important, influential person, admired and almost worshipped by those around him.

He took pleasure in his good character. … Job did have great grace, and he did sustain a very admirable character; but why should he talk about it? why should he think upon it? why should he not think of the source of all the blessing? Why should he not be boasting in the Lord — instead of an implied boasting in himself? That was the very thing God had a controversy with.

"When I washed my steps with butter" — of course it is not literal — "and the rock poured me out rivers of oil." … All that was exceedingly pleasant to Job. And we are apt to think so too. Nothing succeeds like success, men say. There is no more wicked saying, and none more completely opposed to God. Nothing denies more fully that our place now is one of suffering, of being despised and rejected for Christ's sake.

Now Job speaks of going out to the gate of the city, the place of public administration (v.7), and taking his seat there. His dignity was such that young men instinctively drew back, and old men stood up to honour him (v.8). The leading men would not speak first, for everyone waited for Job (vv.9-10)... Though these things might be perfectly true, he ought not to have dared to glory in such honour. In fact, the honour men give to us should only humble us to the dust.

Honour did not fail him outside his own lands either. When he went from the gate up into the city and took his seat in the open square or market, young men hid themselves in awe. Old men rose and stayed standing until he sat down. Leading men and rulers said nothing and kept a respectful silence. The nobles and men of note, whose voices were usually heard, fell silent, unable to speak a word. Such was the reverence that met Job when he came among them — and his influence counted all the more because he held no office.

This is truly a most remarkable statement. We look in vain for any breathing of a broken and contrite spirit here. There are no signs of self-loathing, or even of self-distrust. We cannot find so much as a single expression of conscious weakness and nothingness. In the course of this one chapter, Job refers to himself more than forty times, while the references to God are only five.

It is pitiful to hear a truly great man describing his supremacy over others. The young men hid themselves, the elders rose up and remained standing until he took his seat. Ah, had not this sense of his greatness fostered a pride in Job which made his downfall a necessary dealing of God? He was a prince of princes; nobles were struck dumb in his presence!

All that was very pleasant to Job. And we are apt to think so too. There is nothing, men say, that succeeds like success. No maxim is more wicked, or more completely against God. Nothing denies more thoroughly that our place now is one of suffering, of being despised and rejected for Christ's sake.

Now one of the beautiful features about Job was that he did not pretend to be noble, and he did not seek to be a prince... he was truly noble in his ways; and all that would have been admirable if he had not said or thought it; for that is the important point. "Do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing." It does not mean that other people do not know about it. The wrong is that our own left hand should know what our right hand does. That is, we ought not to think about it.

Now Job had to lose all this. Compare Job 29 with Job 30, and we can form some idea of how painful that stripping must have been. There is a particular force in the words, "But now." Job draws a striking contrast between his past and his present... The very men who flattered him in the day of his prosperity treat him with contempt in the day of his trouble.

Nor did honour fail outside his own lands. If he went from the gate up to the city and took his seat in the market square, young men hid themselves in awe. The grey-headed rose and stood until he was seated. Leading men and rulers stopped speaking and kept a respectful silence. Those men of rank whose voices were usually heard fell quiet, their tongues sticking to the roof of their mouths. So great was the reverence that met Job's presence among them. It carried all the more weight because it was unofficial.

Job has looked back over his former prosperity at home. Now, in memory, he walks out of his gates to take his leading place among his fellows. It is pitiful to hear a truly great man describing his supremacy over others. He is describing his place among the councillors of the city; he was their president and chief.

If someone other than Job had said this, it would be impressive. But when Job speaks this way, he exposes the pride of his self-importance. That shows why it was necessary for God to bring him down. These things might be perfectly true, yet he should not have dared to glory in such honour. In fact, the honour men give us ought only to humble us to the dust. How good it is for every believer to take to heart the words of the Lord Jesus, "I do not receive honour from men" (John 5:41).

This is a most remarkable speech. We look in vain for any breath of a broken and contrite spirit here. There are no signs of self-loathing, or even of self-distrust. In this one chapter Job refers to himself more than forty times, while the references to God are only five.

Job was a godly man. There were none like him in his generation. But a fast current was flowing in his soul. He valued his character and his circumstances. Not that he was self-righteous or worldly in the usual way. He was truly a believer, and a generous friend and benefactor. But he valued his circumstances in life, and the esteem he had among men. In secret, in his own heart, he was in the habit of surveying his fine condition with satisfaction (Job 29). That was a strong undercurrent. His neighbours had not traced the course of that stream; but his heavenly Father had. He loved him, and He wanted him to share His holiness. All of this was inconsistent with that holiness. So He put him into His own school to train him.

Now Job had to be stripped of all this; and when we compare Job 29 with Job 30 we can get some idea of how painful the stripping must have been. There is particular force in the words, "But now." Job draws a striking contrast between his past and his present. In Job 30 he is still occupied with himself. It is still "I" — but how changed! The very men who flattered him in the day of his prosperity treat him with contempt in the day of his trouble. So it always is in this false, deceitful world, and it is good to be made to prove it.

If he went from the gate up to the city, and took his seat in the open square or market, youths hid themselves in awe, and the grey-headed rose and stood until he was seated. Leading men or rulers held back from speech and imposed a respectful silence on themselves. Those nobles or men of mark whose voices were usually heard fell quiet, their tongues sticking to the palate. So great was the reverence that greeted Job among them. His influence was all the stronger because it was unofficial.

What a prominent place he used to occupy, and the good works he did! The words need no further comment; what he means is on the surface. He glories in his good character and in his good works. Self is triumphant. His friends well knew that every word he spoke of his past greatness was true and not a lie.

Now Job speaks of going out to the gate of the city, the place of public business, and taking his seat there. Authorities would not take the lead in speaking, for everyone would wait upon Job. If someone other than Job had said this, it would be impressive, but when Job speaks this way, he exposes the pride of his self-importance in such a way as to reveal why it was necessary for God to bring him down. Though these things might be perfectly true, he still ought not to have dared to glory in such honour. Actually, the honour men give to us should only humble us to the dust.

One of the beautiful features about Job was that he did not pretend to be noble, and he did not seek to be a prince. He was like a king in the nobility of his character — what a king ought to be. He was truly noble in his ways. All that would have been admirable if he had not said it or thought it. That is the important point.

This truly is a most remarkable statement. We look in vain for any breathings of a broken and contrite spirit here. There are no signs of self-loathing, or even of self-distrust. We cannot find so much as a single expression of conscious weakness and nothingness. In this one chapter, Job refers to himself more than forty times, while he mentions God only five times.

Now Job had to be stripped of all this. Compare Job 29 with Job 30, and we can form some idea of how painful the stripping must have been. There is peculiar emphasis in the words, "But now." Job draws a most striking contrast between his past and his present. The very men who flattered him in the day of his prosperity treat him with contempt in the day of his adversity.

Job had wished to come near His seat and plead his own cause. Here He was now, if Job could answer, in keeping with the boldness of his reproofs. The only answer he makes is to admit he is vile. He had no reply to the divine challenge beyond the confession implied in laying his hand on his mouth. Once he had spoken, but he would not reply; twice, but he would add no more. Now he sees the folly of refusing to submit. He had spoken too much, so silence suited him. It was for the LORD to speak.

When he went from the gate up into the city and took his seat in the open square, young men hid themselves in awe. Grey-headed men rose and stood until he sat down. Leading men and rulers held back from speaking and kept a respectful silence. The nobles and men of note, who usually did the talking, went quiet, their tongue sticking to the roof of their mouth. Such was the reverence that met Job among them — and his influence was all the greater because he held no office.

Job now, in memory, passes out of his gates to take his leading place among his fellows. It is pitiful to hear a truly great man describing his supremacy over others. The young men hid themselves, the elders rose up and remained standing until he took his seat. Had not this sense of his greatness fostered a pride in Job which made his downfall a necessary dealing of God? He was a prince of princes; nobles were struck dumb in his presence! He is describing his place among the councillors of the city; he was their president and chief.

Authorities would not take the lead in speaking, for everyone would wait on Job. Though these things might be true, he ought not to have dared to boast in such honour. The honour men give to us should only humble us to the dust.

We look in vain for any breathings of a broken and contrite spirit here. There are no signs of self-loathing, or even of self-distrust. In this one chapter Job refers to himself more than forty times. He mentions God only five times. It reminds us of Romans 7, where "I" dominates in the same way. But there is this immense difference. In Romans 7 "I" is a poor, weak, good-for-nothing, wretched creature standing before the holy law of God. In Job 29 "I" is a most important and influential figure, admired and almost worshipped by his fellow men. Now Job had to be stripped of all this. The very men who flattered him in the day of his prosperity treated him with contempt in the day of his adversity.

One of the beautiful features about Job was that he did not pretend to be noble, and he did not seek to be a prince. He was like a king in the nobility of his character — what a king ought to be. He was noble in his ways. All of it would have been admirable if he had not said it or thought it. That is the important point. "Do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing." That does not mean other people do not know about it. The wrong is that our left hand should know what our right hand does — that is, we ought not to think about it.

How was Job's mouth stopped? Through long chapters in his book he argues out his own righteousness. He boasted that he was eyes to the blind, feet to the lame, and a father to the poor. He boasted that he made the widow's heart sing, and that he put on righteousness as a garment and justice as a crown. And it was no idle boast. At last he comes into God's presence and says, "Behold, I am of small account; what shall I answer you? I lay my hand on my mouth." In God's presence his mouth is stopped.

Job was highly pleased, and took great pleasure in the world thinking so much of him. "When the ear heard, it called me blessed" — now he is looking at what you may call the objects of his kindness and love. For there was both kindness and love in Job. "And when the eye saw, it approved." He was referring to the people who had been helped out of their many troubles... God delighted in Job; that was all right; and he found at last that God did delight in him, but he did not find that until after the trial. The homage people paid him, and the sense of his own great kindness, lifted him above the ordinary occupations of men. All that lifted him up. Well, that is a very natural thing; but it is not spiritual; and it is the very thing that God was putting down severely in him.

The people he helped were moved whenever they saw or heard the man who had rescued them, even though his left hand did not know what his right had done. God does not let the memory of unselfish goodness die. The poor can give as true a witness to loving-kindness as the rich can to a greatness beyond their own. And was not Job the deliverer of the poor, the orphan, the perishing, and the widow?

Eliphaz had just spoken wise words. Then he plunged into a series of accusations against Job. God had given His own testimony about Job at the start of the story, so these charges must have been completely unfounded. Reading them, we can see what provoked Job to sing his own praises, as he does in Job 29. Eliphaz did not deal in vague hints but stated Job's wrongdoing towards the needy, the naked, the weary, the hungry, the widow and the fatherless. In Job 29 Job answers these charges and is just as explicit in declaring how well he had acted towards these very people.

One beautiful thing about Job was that he did not pretend to be noble, and he did not seek to be a prince. He was like a king in the nobility of his character — what a king ought to be. He was truly noble in his ways. All that would have been admirable if he had not said it or thought it. That is the important point. "Do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing." It does not mean that other people do not know about it. The wrong is that our left hand should know what our right hand does. We ought not to think about it. It is done to God.

It is indeed a beautiful picture, but spoiled by the pride of personal recital. "Let another praise you, and not your own mouth."

Job 29 has become one of the great "I" chapters of the Bible. Ecclesiastes 2 is Solomon's "I" chapter. That pronoun occurs 16 times in the first 9 verses. It is the true chapter of the self-gratified "I." Job 29 is the chapter of the self-satisfied "I." Romans 7 is of course the chapter of the self-condemned "I." And to be self-condemned is far better than to be self-gratified or self-satisfied. Best of all is to be self-eclipsed, as we find Paul to be in Philippians 3, where he mentions "I" a good many times.

That will not do, says God. That is all I, I, I. So He lets the devil loose on him, until Job curses the day he was born. But at last he says, "now my eye sees you; therefore I despise myself." That will do, says God; now I can bless you. And He did bless him.

What distress ever sought his help in vain? What story of grief did he brush aside? What sight of misery did he forget? The people he helped were moved when they saw him or heard him, even if his left hand did not know what his right had done. God does not let the memory of unselfish goodness die. The poor can bear as true a witness to loving-kindness as the rich can to a greatness beyond their own. And was not Job the deliverer of the poor, the orphan, the perishing, and the widow?

I suppose that everything Job said about himself was true. It was the effect of the grace of God in him; it did not belong to him naturally. And God, in the middle of His dealings with him and by those dealings, was letting him feel this. He recounted his good deeds, dwelt on them, and called them to mind. He recited them to his friends, who did not want to hear them… He seeks to adorn himself with his good deeds.

Job had acted well, for grace had acted in him; but he did not know himself before God. So he speaks: "When the ear heard, it called me blessed… I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy…" All very right and gracious. But was that all that was in Job's heart? What did thinking about it produce there? What did it show?

This is a most remarkable statement. We look in vain for any breathing of a broken and contrite spirit here. There are no signs of self-loathing, or even of self-distrust. We cannot find even one expression of conscious weakness and nothingness. In this one chapter Job refers to himself more than forty times. He mentions God only five times.

"Do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing." It does not mean that other people should not know about it. The wrong is that our left hand should know what our right hand does — that is, we ought not to think about it. We do it to God. We are only paying back a very little interest on the wonderful capital — the spiritual capital — that the Lord has put in our hands.

His condition in life did not make him proud, or self-indulgent, or indifferent to others. But he valued his condition… He loved his condition and circumstances in life — his place, his character, the respect people gave him, his honours and the praise of men. He was godly, truly and admirably so. There was none like him on the earth. But his place on the earth mattered to him. He was very ready to share and to serve, but he shared and served as a patron or a benefactor.

Job 29 has become one of the great "I" chapters of the Bible… Job 29 is the chapter of the self-satisfied "I." Romans 7 is the chapter of the self-condemned "I." To be self-condemned is far better than to be self-gratified or self-satisfied. Best of all is to be self-eclipsed, as we find Paul to be in Philippians 3, where he mentions "I" a good many times.

How was Job's mouth stopped? Through long chapters in his book he argues out his own righteousness. He boasted that he was eyes to the blind, feet to the lame, and a father to the poor. He made the widow's heart sing, he said, and put on righteousness as a garment and judgment as a crown. And it was no idle boast. At last he comes into God's presence and says, "Behold, I am vile; what shall I answer You? I will lay my hand on my mouth." In God's presence his mouth is stopped.

Imperial crown or crown of honour.

It is indeed a beautiful picture, but marred by the pride of personal recital... Job had won the respect and affection of all. He had been a helper of the helpless, a friend of the orphan and the widow. He clothes himself with righteousness as with a garment, and binds it as a crown on his brow. These are strong words, with little of the humility that suits us.

Job was upright, but he began to make this his righteousness. That clearly proves he had never really been in God's presence. The result was this. He reasoned more correctly than his friends. His heart felt far more than theirs did what God was. Yet he charged God with injustice, and with wanting to trouble him without cause... God was bringing him to say, "Now my eye sees You, and I abhor myself."

This "righteousness," as Job 29 shows us, had to do with his outward conduct. The searching light of God had not yet entered his soul. He had been charged with being a deceiver and a hypocrite. He knew he was not, and he was not going to plead guilty to it for a moment. We too know that he was not. But outward correctness does not by itself count for righteousness in God's presence.

Everything he said may have been true, and we have no reason to doubt that he meant it. Even so, it does not suit a man to dwell on his own state. Before the fall, man's happiness was to continue in God's goodness. When he turned from that, he fell into disobedience. For a sinner to dwell on his own goodness — and he has none — is repulsive. When a child of God does the same, it shows clearly that he has not yet learned his lesson.

Here let us notice an important distinction. In Zechariah 3:4 iniquities are called "filthy garments." In Isaiah 61:10 righteousnesses are described as "filthy rags." Garments cover us. Rags are things men try to cover themselves with, but in vain. Our iniquities do cover us... But when we foolishly try to cover our nakedness with works of our own, we put on nothing but tatters. In reality they do not cover us at all. But God puts on the returning son "the best robe," and that is Christ. As He is, so are we in God's sight from now on and for ever.

What distress had ever sought his help in vain? What tale of sorrow had he ever ignored? What sight of misery had he forgotten? Those he helped were moved whenever they saw or heard their benefactor, even if his left hand did not know what his right had done. God does not let the memory of unselfish goodness die. The poor can give as true a witness to loving-kindness as the rich can to a greatness beyond their own. Was not Job the deliverer of the poor, the orphan, the perishing, and the widow? … He was eyes to the man who had none, feet to the lame, and a father to the needy. He spared no effort to look into a case he knew nothing about.

He boasted that he was eyes to the blind, feet to the lame, a father to the poor, that he caused the widow's heart to sing, and put on righteousness as a garment, judgment as a crown. And it was no idle boast.

Job had acted well, for grace had acted in him; but he did not know himself before God. … All very right and gracious; but was it all that was in Job's heart? What did the thinking of it produce there? What did it show?

He took pleasure in his good character. He was therefore in spirit too much of a Pharisee. "I thank you that I am not like other men." There really was great grace in Job, and he really did keep up an admirable character. But why should he talk about it? Why should he think about it? Why should he not think of the source of all the blessing? Why should he not be boasting in the Lord — instead of an implied boasting in himself? That was the very thing God had a controversy with.

The Lord Jesus said, "do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing" (Matt. 6:3). Job badly needed to learn that lesson. There is never a reason that we should advertise the good things that we do. If we do it "unto the Lord" — and that should always be the case — then He knows it. He weighs its value far more accurately than we could.

It is always so in the Scriptures: those who are lonely, sorrowful, or oppressed are the special objects of His tender mercy… We can learn from such a scripture. It teaches us how to have practical fellowship with the heart of God. If we would walk with Him, His interests and His aims must be ours too. So a field of service opens to God's people — a field that has no limit and surrounds us on every side.

Through long chapters in his book he argues out his own righteousness… At last he comes into God's presence and says, "Behold, I am of small account; what shall I answer you? I lay my hand on my mouth." In God's presence his mouth is stopped.

What distress had ever sought his help in vain? What tale of sorrow was ever brushed aside? What sight of misery was ever forgotten? Those he helped could not see or hear him without being moved, even if his left hand did not know what his right hand had done. God does not let the memory of unselfish goodness die. The poor can bear as true a witness to loving-kindness as the rich can to a greatness beyond their own.

People did not honour Job only for his high position. It was his consistent kindness toward others... He was zealous for the cause of righteousness and justice (v.14), and was in effect "eyes to the blind and feet to the lame" (v.15). He was in practice "a father to the needy," searching out the truth of a case that might not be easily apparent (v.16). He opposed the wicked. He broke their fangs — their power to gain by oppression — and rescued the victims from their clutches (v.17).

Now Job needed, and God saw that he needed, this. He was gracious and pious, 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... All very right and gracious; but was it all that was in Job's heart? What did the thinking of it produce there? What did it show?

There was great grace in Job, and he did keep up a very admirable character. But why should he talk about it? Why should he dwell on it? Why should he not think of the source of all the blessing? Why should he not be boasting in the Lord — instead of an implied boasting in himself? That was the very thing that God had a controversy with.

Now, just read chapters 29-31, and you will say, if any man could have justified himself by good works, Job was the man. There is not a man in all your town that can say as much as Job said, and say it truly. As to his kindness to the poor, he was the very opposite of the lying charges brought against him. So he lets memory recount every good act of his life, but it all fails to give rest to his troubled spirit. I, I, I, I did this, I did not do that. But it is all of no use.

We are never called to show our good works, or even to be conscious of them. The Lord's lesson about giving to the poor is the perfect example of the rule for all such things: "do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing." We may be sure He is not teaching a contradictory principle here. He takes it for granted that there will be good works: true faith in Him is sure to bear fruit. But faith is the very opposite of being taken up with self, and certainly the opposite of self-satisfaction.

He opposed the wicked. He broke their fangs — their power to profit by oppression — and rescued their victims from their grip.

After these wise words, Eliphaz launched into a series of accusations against Job. God's own testimony about Job at the start of the story shows they must have been completely false. Reading them, we can see what pushed Job to sing his own praises, as he does in Job 29. Eliphaz did not deal in vague hints. He stated plainly that Job had wronged the needy, the naked, the weary, the hungry, the widow and the fatherless. In Job 29, Job answers these charges, and he is just as plain in declaring how well he had treated these very people.

He was pointing to the people he had helped out of their many troubles. And that was really true. God delighted in Job; that was all right. He found at last that God did delight in him, but he did not find that out until after the trial. The honour people paid him, and his sense of his own great kindness, raised him above the ordinary business of other men. All that lifted him up. Well, that is a very natural thing. But it is not spiritual, and it is the very thing that God was firmly putting down in him.

One of the beautiful things about Job was that he did not pretend to be noble, and he did not try to be a prince. He was like a king in the nobility of his character — what a king ought to be. He was truly noble in his ways. All that would have been admirable if he had not said it or thought it. That is the important point. "Do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing." It does not mean that other people must not know. The wrong is that our own left hand should know what our right hand does — that is, we ought not to think about it. The deed is done to God. It is only a little interest paid back on the wonderful spiritual capital that the Lord has put in our hands.

This "righteousness," as Job 29 shows us, was about his outward conduct. The searching light of God had not yet entered his soul. He had been accused of being a deceiver and a hypocrite. He knew he was not, and he was not going to plead guilty to it for a moment. We know he was not either. But outward correctness does not in itself count as righteousness in the presence of God.

This is a truly remarkable speech. We look in vain here for any breath of a broken and repentant spirit. There is no sign of self-loathing, or even of self-distrust. We cannot find even one word of felt weakness and nothingness. In this one chapter, Job refers to himself more than forty times, while he refers to God only five times.

So Job 29 has become one of the great "I" chapters of the Bible. Ecclesiastes 2 is Solomon's "I" chapter — the true chapter of the self-gratified "I." Job 29 is the chapter of the self-satisfied "I." Romans 7 is the chapter of the self-condemned "I." To be self-condemned is far better than to be self-gratified or self-satisfied. Best of all is to be self-eclipsed, as we find Paul to be in Philippians 3.

All this honour, together with his own generosity, made life very attractive to Job. He pushed the end far off into the distance. When it came, it would find him comfortable in his "nest." He would stretch out the days of his life like countless grains of sand. Some read the word instead as the phoenix, the immortal bird of legend. The reading in our version gives a simpler and worthier sense. It also matches the way Scripture uses this picture elsewhere (1 Kings 4:29; Gen. 22:17). Another suggestion is that Job refers to the palm tree — "The righteous flourish like the palm tree." Either way the meaning is clear. He would live on without interruption, like a well-watered tree.

He said himself, "I shall die in my nest," Job 29:18; and it is recorded again that "he was righteous in his own eyes," Job 32:1. In the first statement Job was in danger of putting his confidence in the wealth God had blessed him with. In the second he was sure he deserved it. But it was God, and not the nest, who kept him safe. And it was God's estimate of his righteousness that counted, not his own. Job needed to learn these two things, and for his own safety and blessing God was about to teach him… Satan set about to destroy everything Job had put his confidence in — his family, his wealth, his health. But the one thing he could not destroy was his faith.

Job 29 has become one of the great "I" chapters of the Bible. Ecclesiastes 2 is Solomon's "I" chapter: that personal pronoun appears 16 times in the first 9 verses — the chapter of the self-gratified "I." Job 29 is the chapter of the self-satisfied "I." Romans 7 is of course the chapter of the self-condemned "I." And to be self-condemned is far better than to be self-gratified or self-satisfied.

"Then I thought, I shall die in my nest." No, no; God was going to disturb that nice nest of his that was so warm and comfortable. "And I shall multiply my days as the sand." Why, he had been very eager for God to cut his days short. That was the only way he could see out of all the trouble he was going through.

And it was a hard lesson for him, difficult to learn and take in. He did not like — and which of us does? — to accept the sentence of death in himself. Yet that was the point: he was not to trust in himself, or in his circumstances in life, or in his natural condition, but in God who raises the dead. "I shall die in my nest" was his thought and his hope. But he was to see his nest stripped bare. Nature had filled it and circumstances had decorated it, and all of it was taken away.

There is a difference — I would even say a distance — between a righteous man and a devoted man… At the beginning of this history, Job was a righteous man. He was spoken well of again and again, right in front of his accuser. But he was not a devoted man. The whisper of his heart, as I noticed before, was this: "I shall die in my nest."

But should we not be using our wings now? Yet how ready we are to make our nest here! Job thought he would die in his nest (Job 29:18), but what a shaking poor Job got! Yet was it not in love, for his ultimate good? So it always is when the Lord stirs up our nest and shakes everything here. Is it not so that we may learn to fly?

Job had been an example in his conduct and his reliability. So he felt quite sure this prosperity would continue undisturbed… How differently things turned out from what he thought! Do we also think we can depend on past experience to sustain us for the future? If so, we forget that we are always totally dependent on the grace of God.

All this honour, along with his kindness to others, made life very attractive to Job. The end that must come was pushed far into the distance. It would find him comfortable in his "nest." He would stretch out the days of his life like countless grains of sand... In any case the meaning is obvious: he would live on without interruption, like a well-watered tree. So the freshness of the dew would be his, and his bow would stay strong.

It is a blessing, a refreshment sent by God, and withheld as punishment or in discipline... It pictures how God refreshes and strengthens His people through the night, while their Lord is away. It will not be needed when the day breaks and the Sun of righteousness rises with healing in His wings.

Certainly, if any mortal was entitled to look for a peaceful future from God and before men, it was the man of Uz.

He did not like — and which of us does? — to accept the sentence of death in himself. That way he would not trust in himself, or in his circumstances in life, or in his natural condition, but in God who raises the dead. "I shall die in my nest" was his thought and his hope. But he was to see his nest stripped of everything nature had filled it with and circumstances had decorated it with.

This is a truly remarkable statement. We look in vain here for any breathing of a broken and repentant spirit. There are no signs of self-loathing, or even of self-distrust. We cannot find a single expression of any sense of weakness and nothingness. In this one chapter Job refers to himself more than forty times, while the references to God are only five.

Job had been exemplary in his conduct and his reliability. So he felt quite confident that this prosperity would continue without a break... How differently things turned out from what he thought! Do we also think we can depend on past experience to carry us into the future? If so, we forget that we are totally dependent on the grace of God always.

The comfort of this! What a story it tells of grace — tireless, patient grace! And so Job flourishes again. The Lord is as the dew to him. He grows like the lily, his branches spread, his beauty is like the olive tree, his fragrance like Lebanon... and others even live under his shade, reviving like grain and growing like the vine.

Job had been exemplary in his conduct and his reliability, so he felt quite sure this prosperity would go on unbroken. His days would be greatly multiplied, and his death would be one of comfort in his nest (v.18). His root and his branch would be well watered, even at night (v.19). The freshness of vibrant life would continue as before, and his ability for conflict — his bow — would be renewed again and again (v.20). How different things turned out from what he expected! Do we also think we can depend on past experience to carry us through the future? If so, we forget that we always depend entirely on the grace of God.

Throughout Scripture the bow is the symbol of strength to conquer the enemy. The sword is used in hand-to-hand combat; the bow attacks from a distance, opposing the enemy's approach... The bow takes more skill than the sword. But above all it is the symbol of strength, because it takes powerful arms and hands to draw a bow and use it properly.

We look in vain here for any breath of a broken and contrite spirit. There is no sign of self-loathing, or even of self-distrust. We cannot find a single expression of conscious weakness and nothingness. In this one chapter, Job refers to himself more than forty times, while he refers to God only five times.

He took pleasure in his good character... It is not that there was no great grace in Job, or that he did not keep up a very admirable character. But why should he talk about it? Why should he dwell on it? Why should he not think of the source of all the blessing? Why should he not boast in the Lord, instead of an unspoken boast in himself? That was the very thing God was taking issue with.

Job was a godly man. There were none like him in his generation. But a rapid current was flowing in his soul. He valued his character and his circumstances. He valued his position in life, and his standing among people. In the hidden workings of his heart, he used to look over his fine condition with satisfaction (Job 29). That was a strong undercurrent. His neighbours had never traced where that stream ran, but his heavenly Father had. He loved Job, and He wanted him to share in His holiness. All of this got in the way of that, so He put him into His own school to train him.

We cannot question the truth or the sincerity of all that he says. But we may well ask: is his conclusion a happy one even for himself? He shuts the mouths of his friends and seems fully satisfied with himself. Suppose God let it rest there. Is a completely self-vindicated man a pleasant sight? Divine truth, as well as divine love, will not let him wrap himself in these weeds of self-righteousness. They are, for the most part, borrowed garments belonging to God, to whom Job gives not one bit of glory.

I do not go on in my own strength. I may be weary or weak, but it is God. I may be faint in my mind; but "when I am weak, then I am strong." "Our inner self is being renewed day by day." Dependence is renewal. You never get in the grace of today strength for tomorrow... If the manna was kept a day it went bad — it became self-righteousness. You must be dependent every instant.

How could he forget the weight his words carried? Men waited in silence for them. No one answered back. They welcomed his words the way thirsty land waits for rain, with mouths open wide for the late rains. In short, Job was their treasured counsellor in difficulty. He sat as chief, lived like a king among his troops, and really was one who comforted the mourners. Such, without a break, had been his life in former days.

Here Job speaks again as he did in verses 11 to 17. He dwells on the effect he had on his hearers in days past, when men listened closely to him and did not interrupt. This was not because of a forceful character that demanded men's attention. It was because his counsel seemed so gentle and wise (v. 21). When he spoke, they had no reply (v. 22). His words were like dew, with a calming effect, not like an unstoppable storm. His words clearly carried such weight that men would wait for his counsel. When they opened their mouth wide, it was not to speak. It was to drink in the counsel Job gave (v. 23).

His decision was for them the final word, and it called for no response. Yet his words were not like the withering sentence of an unyielding judge. They were like the gentle dew or the rain. His smile was like a ray of light to them.

This is truly a remarkable statement. We look in vain for any breathing of a broken and contrite spirit here. There are no signs of self-loathing, or even of self-distrust. We cannot find so much as a single expression of conscious weakness and nothingness. In this one chapter, Job refers to himself more than forty times. He mentions God only five times.

It is indeed a beautiful picture, but spoiled by the pride of telling it about himself. "Let another praise you, and not your own mouth."

Job was a godly man. There were none like him in his generation. But in his soul a rapid current was flowing. He valued his character and his circumstances. Not that he was self-righteous or worldly in the ordinary way. He was truly a believer, and a generous friend and benefactor. But he valued his circumstances in life and his standing among men. In the hidden workings of his heart he was in the habit of surveying his fine condition with satisfaction (see Job 29). That was a strong undercurrent. His neighbours had not traced the course of that stream, but his heavenly Father had. He loved him, and He wanted him to share His holiness. None of this fitted with that holiness. So He put him into His own school to train him.

The ashes of his past joys can give no warmth to his poor comfortless heart today. They can only feed the flame of that pride which burns all the more brightly among the ruins of its past.

Here Job dwells on the effects produced in his hearers in days past, when men listened carefully to him and did not interrupt. This was not because of a forceful character that demanded men's attention. It was because of the evident gentle wisdom of his counsel (v.21). When he spoke, they had no answer to give back (v.22). His words were like dew, with a calming effect, not like an unstoppable storm. His words clearly carried such weight that men would wait for his counsel. When they opened their mouth wide it was not to speak, but to drink in the counsel Job gave (v.23).

The word is used for "rain," as in Judges 5:4: "the clouds dropped water." Related to this is the thought of any outflow: "The mountains shall drip sweet wine" (Amos 9:13). Growing out of this, we have it used to describe speech as flowing out, or distilling: "my word dropped upon them" (Job 29:22); "your lips drip nectar" (Song 4:11). The plain language of the New Testament may well explain that last one: "all spoke well of him and marveled at the gracious words that were coming from his mouth" (Luke 4:22).

How could he ignore the weight attached to his words? Men waited, and kept silence for them. Nobody answered back. They welcomed his words gladly, like thirsty land waiting for rain, with mouths opened wide as for the latter rain. His laugh could drive away distrust, instead of their low spirits darkening the light of his face. In short, Job was their treasured counsellor in difficulty. He sat as chief, lived like a king among his troops, and really was one who comforted those who mourned. Such, without a break, had been his life in former days.

This is truly a most remarkable statement. We look in vain for any breathing of a broken and contrite spirit here. There are no signs of self-loathing, or even of self-distrust. We cannot find so much as a single expression of conscious weakness and nothingness. In the course of this one chapter Job refers to himself more than forty times, while the references to God are only five.

Job was a godly man. There were none like him in his generation. But in his soul a swift current was running. He valued his character and his circumstances. Not that he was self-righteous or worldly in the usual way. He was truly a believer, and a generous friend and benefactor. But he valued his circumstances in life, and his standing among men. In the hidden workings of his heart, he used to survey his fine condition with quiet satisfaction. Job 29. That was a strong undercurrent. His neighbours had not traced the course of that stream; but his heavenly Father had. He loved Job, and would have him share His holiness, and all this was inconsistent with it. So He put him into His own school to train him.

He had no answer to the divine challenge beyond the confession implied in laying his hand on his mouth. Once he had spoken, but he would not reply; twice, but he would add no more. The folly of not submitting is now before his soul. He had spoken too much: silence suited him. It was for the LORD to speak.

Job returns here to speak in much the same way as he did in verses 11 to 17. He dwells on the effect he had on his hearers in days past, when men listened to him and did not interrupt. This was not because of a forceful character that demanded men's attention. It came from the seemingly gentle wisdom of his counsel. When he spoke, they had no reply. His words were like dew, with a calming effect, not like an irresistible storm. They carried such weight that men would wait for his counsel. When they opened their mouth wide, it was not to speak, but to drink in the counsel Job gave.

His decisions show their effect on the people he helped rather than on his fellow councillors. His decision was the final word for them, calling for no response. And yet his words were not like the crushing sentence of an unbending judge. They were like the gentle dew or the rain.

How could he overlook the weight his words carried? Or the waiting and the silence for them? No one contradicted him. His words were welcomed like thirsty land waiting for rain, with open mouth as for the spring rain. … In short, Job was their treasured counsellor in difficulty. He sat as chief, lived like a king among his troop, and really was one who comforted the mourners. Such, without a break, had been his life in former days.

This is truly a most remarkable statement. We look in vain here for any breathing of a broken and contrite spirit. There is no sign of self-loathing, or even of self-distrust. We cannot find a single expression of conscious weakness and nothingness. In the course of this one chapter, Job refers to himself more than forty times. The references to God are only five. It reminds us of Romans 7, where "I" also dominates. But there is this immense difference. In Romans 7, "I" is a poor, weak, good-for-nothing, wretched creature in the presence of the holy law of God. In Job 29, "I" is a most important, influential person, admired and almost worshipped by those around him.

Job was a godly man. There was no one like him in his generation. But in his soul a fast current was flowing. He valued his character and his circumstances. Not that he was self-righteous or worldly in the ordinary way. He was truly a believer, and a generous friend and benefactor. But he valued his circumstances in life, and his standing among men. In the hidden movements of his heart, he used to survey his fine condition with satisfaction. That was a strong undercurrent. His neighbours had not traced the course of that stream, but his heavenly Father had. He loved Job, and He wanted him to share His holiness. All this did not fit with that holiness. So He put him into His own school to exercise him.

There is where Job failed. Job admired himself. And so he looks back. "Oh, that I were as in the months of old." God was going to do far better. It is true that Job went through very severe sifting. But it was all for his good. More than that, it was for your good and my good, and for the good of every believer who has ever profited by this book since God had it written.

His decisions were for them the final word, and called for no response. Yet his words were not like the withering sentence of an unbending judge. They were like the gentle dew or the rain. His smile was as a ray of light to them. The thought here is a little unclear. Does Job mean that his smile was a blessing to them, or that it was a token of his lasting self-satisfaction? The usual thought, though, is plain. If they were in doubt and trouble, his smile reassured them. No grief of theirs could alter his steady cheerfulness. He was as a king among them, regarded with a reverence close to worship.

Most take it this way. If Job laid aside his dignified gravity and smiled on them, they could hardly believe he would pay them such notice... Others have suggested a different sense. They would not believe that Job would laugh at them, or that he would let the light of his face — his dignified cheerfulness — fall. Mr. Carey takes the word to mean "they presume." The sense is that, despite his graciousness, they do not lightly provoke him or take advantage.

His laugh was suited to drive away distrust; their low spirits did not darken the light of his face.

Job 29 has become one of the great "I" chapters of the Bible. Ecclesiastes 2 is Solomon's "I" chapter: that personal pronoun occurs sixteen times in the first nine verses. It is a true chapter of the self-gratified "I." Job 29 is the chapter of the self-satisfied "I." Romans 7 is of course the chapter of the self-condemned "I." And to be self-condemned is far better than to be self-gratified or self-satisfied. Best of all is to be self-eclipsed, as we find Paul to be in Philippians 3, where he mentions "I" a good many times.

In truth, Job was a man full of grace; but, sadly, he perceived it, and his heart needed to be better taught about what he was before God.

Under pressure a person sometimes sees more of the wisdom of God and His way. The more I see of it, the more depressed I will become, if I cannot rightly connect myself with God. So I turn back on my own history and become occupied with myself. In Job 29, then, Job dwells on the past. This is always evidence that the soul is not right with God. A soul going on with Him would have greater things than the past to recount.

In Job 29 we find that his heart had dwelt on his upright and kind walk with satisfaction. He commended himself and fed his self-love with it... God was bringing him to say, "Now my eye sees You and I abhor myself." Job ends his discourse with these chapters — 29, 30, 31 — which express his good opinion of himself. He had told his whole heart out. He was self-satisfied. The grace of God had worked in him, and in a lovely way. But the human heart is treacherous, and he was not in God's presence, which detects this. So the present effect was to make him lovely in his own eyes.

When people were in confusion, Job was there to choose their way for them (v.25). He even felt himself as a king in the army, able to arrange things for the people in a way they knew was good for them. How unusual a man he was!

Job says, "I sat chief, and lived as a king among warriors, as one comforting fellow-mourners." He was as one with them.

In short, Job was their treasured adviser in trouble... and he really was one who comforted the mourners. That had been his life all along, without a break.

This is truly a most remarkable statement. We look in vain for any sign of a broken and contrite spirit here. There are no signs of self-loathing, or even of self-distrust. We cannot find so much as a single expression of conscious weakness and nothingness. In this one chapter, Job refers to himself more than forty times, while the references to God are only five.

Job 29 has become one of the great "I" chapters of the Bible. Ecclesiastes 2 is Solomon's "I" chapter. That pronoun occurs 16 times in the first 9 verses, and it is the true chapter of the self-gratified "I". Job 29 is the chapter of the self-satisfied "I". Romans 7 is of course the chapter of the self-condemned "I". And to be self-condemned is far better than to be self-gratified or self-satisfied. Best of all is to be self-eclipsed, as we find Paul to be in Philippians 3, where he mentions "I" a good many times.

Job was upright, but he began to make this his righteousness. That clearly proves he had never really been in the presence of God... We find also in Job 29 that his heart had dwelt on his upright and kind life with self-satisfaction, praising himself and feeding his self-love with it. "When the eye saw me it gave witness to me." God was bringing him to say, "Now my eye sees You, and I abhor myself."

He offers himself to our confidence, not as a self-cured physician, and not in the spirit of Job, who in his own sufficiency sat as one that comforts the mourners (Job 29:25). He offers himself as one whom God had first emptied and then filled with the fullness of His own effectual grace.

There is special emphasis in the words, "But now." Job draws a striking contrast between his past and his present. In Job 30 he is still occupied with himself. It is still "I;" but how changed. The very men who flattered him in the day of his prosperity treat him with contempt in the day of his adversity. That is always how it goes in this poor, false, deceitful world, and it is good for us to be made to prove it. Sooner or later everyone must find out how hollow the world is. The same people who cry "Hosanna" today will cry "Crucify Him" tomorrow.

You can imagine how painful that was. He was a man who had been living a good deal on the witness of these grand deeds and on people's high opinion of him... "Whose fathers I would have disdained to set with the dogs of my flock." Ah, Job, you can be cutting; you can strike deep when you want to. He would not have set their fathers with the dogs of his flock! Just think of it.

These younger men spared no unfeeling jibe that could wound him to the quick. Even for physical strength they were worthless, their prime ruined by want and hunger. What else could you expect from men who until now had been gnawing whatever they could find in the desert?... plucking saltwort in the thickets, and finding food, wretched as it was, in roots of broom.

This reveals another side of Job's character. He spoke before of delivering the poor and the fatherless and those who had no helper (ch. 29:12). Was it love for them that really moved him? If so, where was his love for this class of people, whom he had apparently looked at with contempt? Now they are treating him with contempt, and he feels deeply insulted. Again this shows the pride that Job needed to have broken down, and which was indeed broken down later.

But remember well that much more is needed than the stripping of self and the discovery of how hollow and deceitful the world is. A person may go through all of this and the result be nothing but frustration and disappointment. Indeed it can be nothing more if God is not reached... Was this the spirit of Christ? Would Job have spoken this way at the close of the book? He would not. When Job once got into God's presence, there was an end to the self-absorption of Job 29 and the bitterness of Job 30.

We can only compare his anger at their taunts with the meekness of Him "who when He was reviled, did not revile in return; when He suffered, He did not threaten."... But He, like one who did not hear, gave His back to those who strike and His cheeks to those who pull out the beard. "I hid not My face from disgrace and spitting" (Isa. 50:6). Who is it that said this? Not a man lamenting his former grandeur, but One who had voluntarily given up His glory in love for His enemies.

He would not have set their fathers with the dogs of his flock! Just think of it. And he gives his reason. He says, "What could I gain from the strength of their hands?" Job was a wise man. If he had servants, he had servants who could do their duty. But as often happens with the most miserable of the world, they are weak. They cannot do a good day's work, or even a good hour's work.

Even in physical strength they were worthless. Want and hunger had destroyed their prime. What else could you expect from men who until now had been gnawing whatever they could find in the desert? And not in green places either, but in total waste and wilderness. They pulled up saltwort in the thickets, and found food, wretched as it was, in the roots of broom or juniper. How sad to think of such degradation for members of the human race even in those early days!

He goes on to describe the sorry condition of these mockers. "Their vigour has perished. They are gaunt from want and famine" (vv. 2-3). Job does not consider that some such people may not be to blame for their condition, but he seems to think they were not worth considering. After all, they had to scrounge their food from unhealthy sources (v. 4). Men drove them out to live in caves or clefts in the valleys (vv. 5-6). For he says, "they were sons of fools, yes, sons of vile men." Can God not save sons of vile men? Indeed He can, and often does. Should not Job have cared for others brought so low, when he himself had fallen from his former state?

Job's words about his former greatness described his generous pity for the wretched outcasts he comforted and cheered. Turning to the present, he seems to have changed places with these men, or with people like them. Now he speaks of them with no language of sympathy, but with the deepest contempt. Pride speaks of those "whose fathers I would have disdained to set with the dogs of my flock." Their elders were beneath his contempt, and now the younger men laugh at him... The wound to his pride, in having such a rabble mock him, is clearly the deepest of his mental sufferings.

We can only compare his anger at their taunts with the meekness of Him "who, when He was insulted, did not insult in return; when He suffered, He did not threaten."... But He acted as One who did not hear: He "gave His back to those who struck Him, and His cheeks to those who pulled out His hair; I did not hide my face from shame and spitting" (Isaiah 50:6). Who is it that said this? Not a man mourning over lost greatness. This was One who had given up His glory by His own choice, in love for His enemies. He could have freed Himself from His troubles at any moment, by asking His Father or by using His own power.

He mourns his terrible state. Up to now he could not hold back the thought that God dealt harshly with him, and was arbitrary. He could not understand His ways at all. He also missed the motive God had — the gracious purpose. In short, he had not reached the end of the Lord, because he had not done with himself. That is the real secret of it.

Even in physical strength they were worthless, for want and hunger had destroyed their prime. What else could you expect from people who had been gnawing at whatever they could find in the desert? This was not in places where green, pleasant spots grew, but in unbroken waste and wild land. There they plucked saltwort in the thickets when they could find it, and found food, wretched as it was, in the roots of broom or juniper. How sad to think of such degradation for members of the human race even in those early days!

Withered up from hunger, they gnaw the roots of weeds growing in the waste. That land stopped yielding true food for man long ago.

Job's disdain for such men reveals another side of his character. He spoke before of delivering the poor and the fatherless and those who had no helper. Was it love for them that really moved him? If so, where was his love for this class of people, whom apparently he had looked at with contempt?

Job's words about his former greatness described his generous pity for the wretched outcasts he comforted and cheered. Moving to the present, he seems to have changed places with these people, or with others like them. He in turn speaks of them not with the language of sympathy but of deepest contempt… But in Job there is no turning to God under such unjust treatment. Clearly the wound to his pride, in having such a rabble mock him, is the deepest of his mental sufferings.

Job does not consider that some such people may not be to blame for their condition. He seems to think they were not worth considering, because they have to scrounge their food from unhealthy sources and are driven from other people to live in caves or clefts in the valleys. For he calls them sons of fools and sons of vile men. Can God not save sons of vile men? Indeed He can, and often does.

But let it be well remembered that much more is needed than the stripping of self and the discovery that the world is hollow and deceitful. A person may go through all of this and the result be nothing but frustration and disappointment. In fact it can be nothing more if God is not reached. If the heart is not brought to find its all-satisfying portion in God, a reversal of fortune leaves it desolate. The discovery that people are fickle and hollow fills it with bitterness… Once Job got into God's presence, there was an end to the self-centredness of chapter 29 and the bitterness of chapter 30.

We can only compare his anger at their taunts with the meekness of Him "who when He was reviled, did not revile in return; when He suffered, He did not threaten." All through His life our Lord had the shadow of man's rejection falling on Him. But in His darkest hour — "your hour, and the power of darkness" — they poured out their curses and their taunts. But He, like one who did not hear, said: "I gave my back to those who strike, and my cheeks to those who pull out the beard; I hid not my face from disgrace and spitting." Who is it that said this? Not a man lamenting his former grandeur, but One who had voluntarily given up His glory in love for His enemies.

A common herb that the poor would eat to satisfy their hunger. Job 30:4. Several have judged the herb to be the Atriplex halimus. It has a sour taste, but not so sour that people could not eat it.

This word is thought to mean, not the juniper, but the Arabic ratam, the Retama raetam. It is a "broom" that grows twelve feet high, and a person could sit under it for shelter. 1 Kings 19:4-5. Job 30:4 mentions its roots, which the poor used for food.

What else could you expect from people who until now had been gnawing whatever they could find in the desert? And this was not in pleasant country, but in waste and wild land with no relief. They plucked saltwort in the thickets when they could find it, and they found food, wretched as it was, in roots of broom or juniper. How sad to think of such degradation for members of the human race even in those early days! We usually link outcasts like these with the crowded dens of shame and crime in some great city. They were there in those days too, behind the scenes of desert life.

Job does not consider that some of these people may not be to blame for their condition. They have to scrounge their food from unhealthy sources (v.4). Other men drive them out to live in caves or clefts in the valleys (vv.5-6). Job seems to think this makes them not worth considering, for he calls them sons of fools, sons of vile men. Can God not save sons of vile men? Indeed He can, and often does. Should Job not have cared about others brought so low, especially when he himself had fallen from his former state?

Job's words about his former greatness described his generous pity for the wretched outcasts. He brought them comfort and cheer. Now, in the present, he seems to have changed places with these people, or with people like them. This time he speaks of them not with the language of sympathy, but with deepest contempt. It is a sad picture of pride, which grows bitter as it dwells on its wrongs.

He spoke before of delivering the poor and the fatherless and those who had no helpers (ch. 29:12). Was it love for them that really moved him? If so, where was his love for this class of people, whom he had apparently looked at with contempt? Now they are treating him with contempt, and he feels deeply insulted. Again this shows the pride that Job needed to have broken down, and which was indeed broken down later.

We can only compare his anger at their taunts with the meekness of Him "who when He was reviled, did not revile in return; when He suffered, He did not threaten."... Who is it that said this? Not a man mourning his lost greatness, but One who had given up His glory by His own choice, in love for His enemies. He could have freed Himself from His troubles at any moment, by an appeal to His Father or by putting forth His own power.

We usually connect such social outcasts with the crowded dens of shame and crime in some great city. But they existed then too, behind the scenes of desert life. Men drove them out from the middle of society, Job says, and hooted at them as at a thief. They had to find a home in horrible glens, in holes in the earth, and in hollow rocks.

Job's words about his former greatness described his kind pity for the wretched outcasts he comforted and cheered. Now he passes into the present. He seems to have changed places with these people, or with people like them. This time he speaks of them not with the language of sympathy but of deepest contempt... They were driven away from other people like thieves. Their home was in valleys and dark holes, and they croaked or brayed like animals. And these outcasts pour their contempt upon him! ... Clearly the wound to his pride, in having such a rabble mock him, is the deepest of his mental sufferings.

Ah! Job, you can be cutting; you can strike deep if you are so disposed. He would not have set their fathers with the dogs of his flock! Just think of it.

Job does not consider that some such people may not be to blame for their condition. He seems to think they were not worth considering, because they had to scrounge their food from unhealthy sources, and because they were driven away from other people to live in caves or clefts in the valleys... Can God not save sons of vile men? Indeed He can, and often does. Should Job not have cared about others brought so low, especially when he himself had come down from his former state?

Scorn them as he may, Job has to admit that they mock him, and that he is their song and their byword. We can only compare his anger at their taunts with the meekness of Him "who when He was reviled, did not revile in return; when He suffered, He did not threaten." ... He was not a man mourning over his lost greatness. He was One who had given up His glory by choice, in love for His enemies. He could have freed Himself from His troubles at any moment, by an appeal to His Father or by putting forth His own power.

But remember well, much more is needed than the stripping of self and the discovery of how hollow and deceitful the world is. A person may go through all of this and the result be nothing but frustration and disappointment. Indeed it can be nothing more if God is not reached... Ah no, reader; once Job got into God's presence, there was an end to the egotism of Job 29 and the bitterness of Job 30.

At them, driven out from among people, they hooted as at a thief, so that they had to live in the horror of the glens, in dens of the earth and rocks. Among the bushes they brayed, under the nettles they huddled — sons of folly, sons of no-name, who were whipped out of the land.

How sad to think of such degradation for members of the human race even in those early days! Such social outcasts, whom we normally connect with the overcrowded dens of shame and crime in some great city, were not missing even then, behind the scenes of desert life.

Job does not consider that some of these people may not be to blame for their condition. They have sunk to scrounging food from unhealthy sources, and others have driven them away to live in caves or clefts in the valleys. He seems to think this made them not worth considering. For he says, "they were sons of fools, yes, sons of vile men." Can God not save sons of vile men? Indeed He can, and often does. Should Job not have cared about others brought so low, when he himself had fallen from his former place?

Job's words about his former greatness described his generous pity for the wretched outcasts he comforted and cheered. Coming to the present, he seems to have changed places with these people, or people like them. Now he speaks of them not with sympathy but with the deepest contempt… But in Job there is no turning to God under such unjust treatment. Clearly his deepest mental suffering is the wound to his pride, when such a rabble mocks him.

None was so low that he could not look at Job with derision and scorn… But a deeper and more constant sorrow weighed on him. He could not shut out the harrowing conviction that his endless suffering in the body came from the hand of God — the very One from whom he might have expected compassion. Now he had to give up all hope of relief or rescue from above. He gave up hope, too, of even the most ordinary sympathy from people who are quick to feel for the misery of others.

Scorn them as he may, Job has to admit that he is mocked by them, that he is their song and their byword. We can only compare his anger at their taunts with the meekness of Him "who when He was reviled, did not revile in return; when He suffered, He did not threaten"… He answered like one who did not hear: "I gave my back to those who strike, and my cheeks to those who pull out the beard; I hid not my face from disgrace and spitting" (Isa. 50:6). Who said this? Not a man lamenting his lost grandeur. This was One who had given up His glory by His own choice, out of love for His enemies. He could have freed Himself from His troubles at any moment.

Much more is needed than the stripping away of self and the discovery that the world is hollow and deceitful. A person may go through all of this, and the result be nothing but frustration and disappointment. Indeed it can be nothing more if God is not reached. If the heart does not find all its satisfaction in God, a reversal of fortune leaves it desolate… Once Job got into God's presence, the self-absorption of chapter 29 and the bitterness of chapter 30 came to an end.

Job may dwell on the past as long as he likes. In the end he has to turn to the present, with its wretched contrast. We may divide this portion into seven parts, giving the thought of complete misery, which so exceeds his former greatness. The first is his wretched mockers (verses 1-8)…

"Among the bushes they bray." He will not allow that they talked — they brayed. "Under the nettles they huddle together."

What else could you expect from people who had been gnawing at whatever they could find in the desert? And not in pleasant places either, but in endless wild waste. They pulled up saltwort in the thickets when they could find it. They found food, poor as it was, in the roots of broom or juniper. How sad to think of such degradation for members of the human race even in those early days! We usually connect such outcasts with the crowded slums of vice and crime in some great city. But they were there then too, out of sight, in the life of the desert. … Under the nettles, he adds, they herded together like animals — sons of folly, too obscure for a name, known only for vice and the punishment that came with it.

He spoke before of his delivering the poor and the fatherless and those who had no helpers (chapter 29:12). Was it love for them that really moved him? If so, where was his love for this class of people whom apparently he had looked at with contempt? Now they are treating him with contempt, and he feels deeply insulted. Again this shows the pride that Job needed to have broken down, and which was indeed broken down later.

Job does not consider that some such people may not be to blame for their condition, He seems to think they were not worth considering, because they had to scrounge their food from unhealthy sources (verse 4), and were driven from men to live in caves or clefts in the valleys (verses 5-6). For he says, "they were sons of fools, yes, sons of vile men." Can God not save sons of vile men? Indeed He can, and often does.

It is a hideous picture, reminding us of One who in a far different spirit said, "I was the song of the drunkards" (Psalm 69:12). But in Job there is no turning to God in such unjust treatment. Clearly the wound to his pride, in having such a rabble mock him, is the deepest of his mental sufferings.

But remember: much more is needed than being stripped of self and discovering how hollow and deceitful the world is. A person may go through all of that, and the result be nothing but frustration and disappointment. Indeed it can be nothing more if God is not reached… when once Job got into God's presence, there was an end to the egotism of Job 29 and the bitterness of Job 30.

And now Job had become their song and their byword. Even people like these — wretched cave-dwellers, if not worse in their origin — dared to make him their entertainment and the object of spiteful abuse. They loathed him so much that they kept far away; and if they did come near, it was to heap on him the lowest mark of shameful contempt.

Now Job describes the misery and disgrace he has suddenly been brought down to. First, he dwells on the contempt he had to take — not from the proud and powerful, but from the most wretched and despicable of men. No one was so low that he could not look at Job with mockery and scorn.

Now he turns to the present. He seems to have changed places with these people, or with people like them, and now he in turn speaks of them not with sympathy but with the deepest contempt. Pride speaks of them as those "whose fathers I would have disdained to set with the dogs of my flock." Their elders were beneath his contempt, and now the younger ones laugh at him... It is clear that the wound to his pride, in having such a mob mock him, is the deepest of his mental sufferings.

He spoke before of his delivering the poor and the fatherless and those who had no helpers (ch. 29:12). Was it love for them that really moved him? If so, where was his love for this class of people whom apparently he had looked at with contempt? Now they are treating him with contempt, and he feels deeply insulted. Again this shows the pride in Job that needed to be broken — and later it was broken.

They could not bear to look at him — at the agony, and the terrible effect of all these sores on his body. They could not go near him... "Because He has loosed my cord." There was, after all, what grieved the heart of poor Job more than anything. It was God. He does not mean the devil; it was not the devil.

However much he scorns them, Job has to admit that they mock him, that he is their song and their byword. We can only compare his anger at their taunts with the meekness of Him "who, when He was reviled, did not revile in return; when He suffered, He did not threaten."... But He acted as One who did not hear: "I gave my back to those who strike, and my cheeks to those who pull out the beard; I hid not my face from disgrace and spitting" (Isaiah 50:6). Who is it that said this? Not a man mourning over his lost greatness, but One who had given up His glory by His own choice, in love for His enemies.

Mourning over greatness that is gone, and bitter attacks on other people, will not do the heart much good... He could turn from the rebuffs of men to His resources in God, and then come back with those healing words, "Come to me … and I will give you rest."

Now Job sets out the misery and degradation he had been suddenly reduced to. First, he dwells on the scorn that fell to him — not from the high and proud, but from the most wretched and despicable of men. No one was so low that he could not look at Job with derision and scorn. It would be hard to find such a picture of utter baseness in the habits of men. Yet he had to endure every expression of malicious contempt from these loathsome people. They set on him not only with their vulgar mockery, but with the coarsest practical jokes and rude behaviour, and it unnerved him completely. But a deeper and more constant sorrow weighed on him. He could not shut out the painful conviction that his endless bodily sufferings came from the hand of God — the very One from whom he might have looked for compassion.

Job's words about his former greatness described his kind pity for wretched outcasts. He comforted and cheered them. Moving to the present, he seems to have changed places with these people, or people like them. Now he speaks of them not with sympathy but with the deepest contempt… These are the contemptible wretches who now mock the man who was once so great… It is a hideous picture, reminding us of One who in a very different spirit said, "The drunkards make songs about me" (Ps. 69:12). But in Job there is no turning to God under such unjust treatment. Clearly the wound to his pride, in having such a rabble mock him, is the deepest of his mental sufferings.

"They abhor me." Think of that — these words were all true. "They keep aloof from me." They could not bear to look at him — at the agony, and the terrible effect of all these sores on his body. They could not go near him.

"They do not hesitate to spit in my face" (v.10). This was true of men's treatment of the Lord Jesus too, but it did not shake His confidence in the living God… In fact, this was similar to the Lord Jesus, whose words in Psalm 69:26 surely speak to us: "They persecute Him whom You have struck." But His case was very different from Job's, because God struck the Lord Jesus for our sins. Men, ignorant of such grace, only used the occasion to heap further abuse on the Son of God. If Job had had the example of the Lord Jesus to consider at that time, he might have thought differently. But Job let men's treatment of him affect him so much that he became virtually unable to look up.

Now all this, we may truly say, falls far short of the mark. Laments over lost greatness and bitter attacks on our fellow men will not do the heart much good. They show nothing of the spirit and mind of Christ, and they bring no glory to His holy name. When we turn our eyes toward the blessed Lord Jesus we see something completely different. That meek and lowly One met it all with an "Even so, Father" — all the rebuffs of this world, all the disappointments among His people Israel, all the unbelief and folly of His disciples. He could withdraw from the rebuffs of men into His resources in God. Then He came out with those soothing words: "Come to me… and I will give you rest."

He was restored to the confidence and esteem of all who had known him before. That is a great point, when we remember his sad complaint in Job 30 about the treatment he had received.

One reading of the text gives "my," that is, Job's, cord. The other gives "His," that is, God's. Ewald takes this as a bowstring, Conant as a rein. The sense seems to be the letting loose of trouble and persecutions. They took their stand on his right, as witnesses against the sufferer. So he lost all firm ground to stand on. He could only compare himself to a place open to every method of siege and assault. The course of his life was broken up by force, and those who helped push on his ruin needed no help themselves. For they poured in as through a wide breach, rolling onward under the crash of ruin.

"They do not hesitate to spit at the sight of me. Because God has loosed my cord." There, after all, was what grieved the heart of poor Job more than anything. It was God. He does not mean the devil; it was not the devil.

Job thought God had afflicted him, and that this was why "the rabble" had cast off restraint (v.11). They saw in Job a chance to vent their evil tempers against him. In fact, this was similar to the Lord Jesus, whose words in Psalm 69:26 surely speak to us: "They persecute Him whom you have struck down." But His case was very different from Job's. God struck the Lord Jesus because of our sins. Men, ignorant of such grace, only used the occasion to heap further abuse on the Son of God.

We can only compare his anger at their taunts with the meekness of Him "who when He was reviled, did not revile in return; when He suffered, He did not threaten." All through life, the shadows of man's rejection fell on our Lord. But in His darkest hour — "your hour, and the power of darkness" — they poured out their curses and their taunts. But He acted like One who did not hear: "I gave my back to those who strike, and my cheeks to those who pull out the beard; I hid not my face from disgrace and spitting" (Isa. 50:6). Who is it that said this? Not a man mourning his lost greatness. This was One who gave up His glory by His own choice, out of love for His enemies. He could have delivered Himself from His troubles at any moment.

But remember: much more is needed than the stripping of self and the discovery of how hollow and deceitful the world is. A person may go through all of these, and the result be merely disappointment and a sour spirit. Indeed it can be nothing more if God is not reached. If the heart does not find its all-satisfying portion in God, a reverse of fortune leaves it desolate. The discovery of how fickle and hollow people are fills it with bitterness. This accounts for Job's language in Job 30... when once Job got into God's presence, there was an end to the self-absorption of Job 29 and the bitterness of Job 30.