Job 8:2–22

Bildad now takes up what is fast becoming a controversy. There is perhaps less of the courtesy and dignity that marked the speech of Eliphaz. There is also some harshness toward Job. It seems to come from the bitter charge Job had made against God. With all his ignorance of divine principles, Bildad is jealous for the honour of God, and cannot allow Him to be accused. In this he is surely right. But he fails to convince Job, because of the root error in the thinking of all of them: God must punish sin, and Job must be a sinner because God is punishing him.

By the latter expression he suggests that Job's speech was stormy like the wind, and as empty as the wind. He declares what is certainly true: God cannot be unrighteous. In this way Bildad called a decisive halt to the dangerous things Job had said, forced out of him by Eliphaz's cold and dogmatic claims. Job rejected the accusation that he was a sinner being punished for his sins. So he was fast approaching the edge of charging God with being unjust.

Eliphaz had claimed to be giving Job "the consolations of God." This moves Job to reply bitterly, "Miserable comforters are you all!" Instead of comfort, they had given heartless accusations, which Job calls "words of wind."

Job's words are like a strong wind, a blast of bitter complaint, and a still more bitter charge against God. Bildad's correction is harsh, but we may well call it just. Job's words were irreverent and extremely rash. Perhaps sympathy might have taken a gentler path, but when a man begins to charge God it is well to rebuke him sharply.

Here then this man breaks out into this rebuke of Job for his extreme feeling. How could a man do anything but feel? And what were they about that they did not deeply feel for him? There they were, quite comfortable. And there they were, judging that there must be something very bad. I need not tell you that this deeply wounded the poor injured man. It was pouring acid into his wounds. It was not binding them with wine and oil to clean the wound. Instead it was deepening and poisoning it.

Bildad follows the line of Eliphaz, and says, "How long will you say these things?" He could not understand it in the least. That was because Job could not understand why. He was quite sure of the perfection of God, quite sure of the faithfulness of God, quite sure that God loved him, quite sure that he loved God. So he cried, "How has all this come upon me? What is the key to all this terrible suffering that I am sure God has sent?" He would not blame it on circumstances.

We need not be surprised that Bildad could not anticipate the lessons God meant this very book to teach. But a believer should not rush ahead. He should wait where he has no assurance of God's mind. Least of all should he put the worst possible reading on what he does not understand. This is what Bildad did. He made Job's trial worse and provoked his spirit, which in turn gave an appearance of evil to those who suspected evil. So the confusion grew worse, and deeper darkness hid the true solution from their eyes. Does it ever seem to have occurred to the three friends that their wisdom would have been to pray rather than to talk, judge, and censure?

Bildad asks Job a plain question: "Does God pervert justice?" Is He unrighteous? For anyone who knows Him there can be but one answer. "Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?" He would not be God, if He were not perfectly righteous. This shows the dreadful cliff edge Job was approaching. He was driven on by this false principle that God always punishes for sin. Job was not a sinner; therefore God was unjust! This reasoning is frightening. Both the starting assumption and the statement of fact are wrong, and the conclusion is blasphemous. Why did Job — and Bildad too — not stop and question the assumption? Does God always punish for sin alone? Why does Job not examine the facts; is he sinless?

The reasoning of Bildad rests on precisely the same principle as that of Eliphaz. It is all founded on God's moral government. On that principle, no one can cause God grief, and no truly righteous man can be cast to the ground. And God will certainly bring every wicked man to nothing. It is all founded on what is going on in the world now. There was no faith in it. There was conscience, conscience toward God. Conscience is useful and very important for the soul. But it never does and never can reveal God. It detects our bad state... Everything was more or less confused, and people saw God only as a righteous God. But God is the God of all grace.

And what shows the falsity of the principle is the universal test. Bring Christ in. Was it any lack of God's delight in Christ that allowed Christ to be the greatest sufferer, far beyond Job? So the estimate was completely false, and the principle underneath it was false too. It imagined that there must be evil in anyone who came to this depth of suffering.

Abstract truth is altogether useless for the saints of God. Things that are true but misunderstood and misapplied may do more harm than many a thing that is false. Misapplied truth gives the apparent authority of God to an error. And that error carries all the more weight because it comes as the truth. If someone says a foolish thing, or one plainly false, people despise it; but no believer can brush aside the truth of God. So suppose someone uses the truth of God wrongly. Suppose he applies it to crush a person who is the object of God's intense interest at that moment. How foreign and offensive that is to His mind!

He did not begin in the gentle way that Eliphaz did. He did not even try to show any understanding of Job's feelings. Instead, he spoke like a man out of patience. He at once accused Job of letting words come out of his mouth that were only "a strong wind" (v. 2). "Does God pervert justice? Or does the Almighty pervert the right?" he asks (v. 3). He did not know how God was dealing with Job. Yet he was sure God was punishing him justly, though he knew of no actual evil on Job's part.

He offers two proofs of God's justice, and the first is, to put it mildly, arbitrary and unkind. We may read verse 4, "When your children sinned against Him, He gave them over to the hand of their wickedness." In other words, Bildad assumes that Job's children got what their wickedness deserved, and so were cut off... This cuts deep into a father who had found no evidence of such wickedness in his children. He had watched over their spiritual state with care.

Bildad asks Job a plain question, "Does God pervert judgment?" Is He unrighteous? For anyone who knows Him there can be only one answer... This shows the dreadful cliff edge Job was approaching. He was driven on by the false principle that God always punishes for sin. Job was not a sinner; therefore God was unjust! This is terrible reasoning. Both the premise and the statement of fact are wrong, and the conclusion is blasphemous. Why did Job not stop, and Bildad too, and ask whether something was wrong in the premise: does God always punish for sin alone?

He suggested that God must have cast Job's children away as the penalty of their transgression. This must have been a bitter blow to Job, since he had so regularly offered sacrifice on their behalf. Even so, he advised Job that if only he would be upright and seek God, he would be blessed in his latter end.

He says, "If your children have sinned against him and he has cast them away for their transgression" — there they thought they had him. How could God do such a thing as to kill all his children unless there was something very bad in them? It was all the same principle, and the same false principle. And what shows the falsity of the principle is the universal test. Bring Christ in. Was it any lack of God's delight in Christ that allowed Christ to be the greatest sufferer, far beyond Job? So the estimate was entirely false, and so was the principle underneath it: that there must be evil in anyone who came to this depth of suffering.

Then he makes a cruel thrust at Job. He suggests that Job's sons had died because they had sinned against God, and that God coldly cast them away for their transgressions (v.4). This was not true, but what was Job to answer? So Bildad condemned Job's dead sons, then went on to attack Job himself. He told him this: if he would earnestly plead with God, and if he were pure and upright, then God would surely awake for him at once and turn his misery into prosperity.

We need not be surprised that God turns to Eliphaz and his friends with stern rebuke for their part in the argument... He addresses Eliphaz, the leader of the three, and declares His anger against them all. They had not spoken of Him what is right, as His servant Job had. And yet their whole contention had apparently been for God's righteousness! Had they not maintained this from the very start, with noble descriptions and fierce attacks on evil? Had they not pinned the charge of wrongdoing on Job with no proof at all, and against well known facts?

Bildad now takes up what is fast becoming an argument. He shows less of the courtesy and dignity that marked the speech of Eliphaz, and more harshness toward Job, apparently caused by Job's bitter charge against God. For all his ignorance of God's principles, Bildad is jealous for the honor of God, and will not let anyone accuse Him. He is right about that. But he fails to convince Job, because of the root error in the thinking of all three friends: God must punish sin, so Job must be a sinner, since he is being punished.

Bildad condemned Job's dead sons, then went on to attack Job himself. He told Job that if he would seek God earnestly in prayer, and if he were pure and upright, then God would certainly rouse Himself for him at once and turn his misery into prosperity (vv.5-6). Of course, in saying this he implied that Job had not been pure and upright, and had not sought God earnestly before.

So instead of bluster and complaint, let Job simply turn to God the Almighty in earnest prayer. Then, if only he is pure, he will soon find that God crowns his home with prosperity, and that his last days flourish beyond his first. And so it happened — but not at all in the way Bildad imagined. Bildad falls back on the old sayings of earlier generations to support the idea that God repays every man strictly, here and now.

In seven places the word for God [El] is combined with Shaddai, which is usually translated "the Almighty." Some understand the name to mean "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 one thought stands out above all others: the Lord is Almighty. That suits the book well, since it tells the story of God's controversy with Job, who found no relief or blessing until he came to a right view of himself in God's presence.

Things that are true, but misunderstood and misapplied, can do more harm than many a thing that is false. Misapplied truth lends the apparent authority of God to an error, and that error carries all the more weight because it comes as truth. If someone says a foolish thing, or a plainly false one, people dismiss it. But no believer can brush aside the truth of God. So if the truth of God is used wrongly — if it is used to crush someone God cares about deeply at that moment, how foreign and offensive that is to His mind!

They did not know God's character, or His purpose in dealing with His dear servant. They were completely mistaken. They did not know how to present God to Job, and so they did not know how to bring Job's conscience into God's presence. Instead of leading him to judge himself, they only fed his desire to defend himself… They said some true things; but they did not have the truth.

He did not understand Job's case at all. He could only conclude that God was punishing Job for wickedness, though God had called Job a righteous man. God's anger burned against Bildad. But Bildad and his two companions brought a sacrifice, and when Job prayed for them, God accepted him.

Bildad condemned Job's dead sons, then went on to attack Job himself. He told Job this: if he would seek God with earnest prayer, and if he were pure and upright, then God would surely wake up for him at once and turn his misery into prosperity (vv. 5-6). Of course, in saying this he implied that Job had not been pure and upright and had not earnestly sought God before.

Instead of bluster and complaint, let Job only turn to God the Almighty with earnest prayer. Then he will soon find — provided he himself is pure — that prosperity from Him will crown his home. His latter end will flourish beyond the beginning.

Bildad here sharply rebukes Job, telling him that the words of his mouth are like a strong wind, and that if he were pure and upright God would wake up for him. So he throws Job back on himself even more. He implies that Job's trials are judicial payments for sin. In fact they were the discipline of God, leading him to the full end of himself. Job knew that he had done nothing to deserve it. But he had to learn that he could claim nothing. His friends knew this no more than he did; they stood on righteousness alone.

"If you were pure and upright" — ah, there they were at it again! So it was not only the children who had sinned! "If you were pure and upright" — why, Job was much more so than they were! "If you were pure and upright, surely now He would wake up for you." Certainly not. The Lord was going to bring the trial to its full completion. He allowed all these discussions to bring out everything that was in their hearts. Then He came in with His own word and cast down completely these principles that governed the three friends — and Job could not properly answer them.

Next, he proves the justice of those ways. He tells Job there is restoring mercy for him, if he will only turn to God in prayer. "If you are pure and upright" — there is a strong hint of suspicion here — God will restore everything, and bless Job's latter end. This did come true, but in a very different way from what Bildad expected. Job is not blessed for his purity, and not for confessing the evil they suspected in him.

Things that are true, but misunderstood and misapplied, may do more harm than many a thing that is false. Misapplied truth gives the apparent authority of God to an error, and that error carries all the more weight because it comes as the truth.

This is just where Job's friends were. They saw that God loves righteousness and hates evil, and that Job was suffering. What conclusion did they draw from it all? That if Job had been a righteous person, God would have accepted him. They were on wrong ground altogether. It is quite true, and blessedly true, that God loves righteousness. But the fallacy lies in the idea that a man can be righteous with God. That thought must always produce either self-righteousness, or despair and misery.

Bildad condemned Job's dead sons, then went on to attack Job himself. He told Job this: if he would earnestly seek God in prayer, and if he were pure and upright, then God would surely wake up for him at once and turn his misery into prosperity (vv.5-6). Of course, in saying this he implied that Job had not been pure and upright and had not earnestly sought God before. But now, if Job did as Bildad advised, his end would increase greatly, though his beginning was small (v.7).

It was all the same principle, and the same false principle. What shows the falsity of the principle is the universal test. Bring Christ in. Was it any lack of God's delight in Christ that allowed Christ to be the greatest sufferer, far beyond Job? So the estimate was completely false, and so was the principle underneath it. It was wrong to imagine that there must be evil in the person who came to this depth of suffering.

Next, he proves the justice of those ways by telling Job there is restoring mercy for him, if he will only turn in prayer to God. He adds, "If you are pure and upright." There is a strong suggestion of suspicion here. Then God will restore everything and bless Job's latter end. This did come true, but in a very different way from what Bildad expected. Job is blessed not for his purity, nor because he confessed some suspected evil.

They were all arguing on the ground of righteousness. Not one of them had taken in, up to this point and for long after, any thought of grace. And Job only arrived at it at last by God stepping in. There he was dust and ashes. There he took the place of nothingness and worse than nothingness. Then God blessed him. Then God vindicated him — and not till then.

The story of Job's friends should be a solemn warning to us. There is nothing so dangerous as a truth wrongly applied. You can do the greatest harm with a word of Scripture in the wrong place. This is one of the devil's methods, and only unbroken communion with God can keep us from it. How important, then, is the call to "be slow to speak," especially in spiritual matters. People often bitterly regret quick conclusions and hasty judgments. Job's friends were surely ashamed of their mistakes when it was too late.

But people often mistake inspiration for revelation, that is, for the infallible statement of divine truth. We have the inspired record of what Satan said to Eve, and to our Lord. We also have the words of wicked men like Pharaoh and Rabshakeh. Yet no one thinks of these words as the truth of God. In the same way, we have here an inspired record of what Job and his three friends said. Most of it was true, but it was out of place and misapplied.

Job's three friends completely misunderstood God's government. They claimed he must have been doing evil, or God would not have dealt with him this way. Eliphaz went on personal experience. He said, "As I have seen, those who plow iniquity and sow trouble reap the same." Job 4:8. Bildad is the voice of tradition and the authority of antiquity. He said, "Inquire, please, of bygone ages, and consider what the fathers have searched out." Job 8:8. Zophar displayed law and religiousness. He said, "If iniquity is in your hand, put it far away... then you will lift up your face without blemish." Job 11:14-15.

Bildad says, in effect: "It does not matter what we have seen with our own eyes in our day. We ought to listen to those who went before us. They know better than we do." So he says, "For inquire, please, of bygone ages" (Job 8:8). Bildad had received his knowledge by being taught it, preferring to use his ears rather than his eyes.

In verses 8-10, Bildad showed where he stood. He prized the stored-up treasures of human wisdom. Even in those far-off days, people could search records kept from even earlier times. Eliphaz argued from his own observation — what he had seen himself. Bildad argued from tradition — what the records of earlier days could teach. He distrusted any conclusion drawn from personal experience, because a man's days on earth are only "a shadow."

In this Bildad contradicted what Eliphaz had said. If Eliphaz too was born only "yesterday", what was his observation worth? But Bildad's appeal to tradition was just as empty as the appeal of Eliphaz to observation, for Bildad came to the wrong conclusion also.

We must admit that Bildad leads us into a much wider field than Eliphaz. The authority of many "fathers" carries far more weight and respectability than the experience of one man. It also looks more modest to follow many wise and learned men than your own experience. But the fact is that neither experience nor tradition will do. Experience may be true, as far as it goes. But you can hardly find two men whose experience matches exactly. And tradition is a mass of confusion, for one father differs from another. Nothing is more slippery or uncertain than the voice of tradition, the authority of the fathers.

He goes beyond Eliphaz: "For we are but of yesterday." That is true. But what does all the stored-up wisdom of the past give us when the question is God's truth? It is not to the past that we are to turn, but to God and His word. How immeasurably better is the position of those who have the "sure word of prophecy," "the oracles of God."

Had they appealed to divine revelation, it would have been an entirely different matter. The truth of God is the only standard — the one great authority. It measures everything, and everything must bow to it sooner or later. No man has any right to lay down his own experience as a rule for others; and if no one man has that right, neither has any number of men.

It is always easier to follow tradition than the written word of God. Following tradition does not exercise the conscience. It also spares us the difficulty, sometimes a serious one, of giving reasons for what we do. It is enough that our upbringing from infancy taught us to believe and practise certain things... What one generation hands down to the next may not be bad in itself. It may even have been good, at least for its time. But it sets up a false standard and a human authority in the soul. That authority may not deny the word of God outright, but it will surely put God's word in second place.

The word yesterday is used for the previous day (Ex. 5:14; John 4:52; Acts 7:28). It is also used for past time in general, as in "a thousand years in your sight are but as yesterday," and when the Lord Jesus is called "the same yesterday, today, and forever" (Ps. 90:4; Heb. 13:8). It is used also as if of "no duration," as in "we are but of yesterday" (Job 8:9).

In verses 8-10, Bildad revealed his own standpoint in the argument that was developing. He set great store by the accumulated treasures of human wisdom. Even in those far-off days, people could search records kept from still earlier days. Eliphaz argued from his own observation — what he had seen for himself. Bildad argued from tradition — what the records of earlier days could teach. He distrusted a deduction from one's personal experience, since the days of a man upon earth are but "a shadow."

Now, it must be admitted that Bildad conducts us into a much wider field than that of Eliphaz. The authority of many "fathers" carries much more weight and respect than the experience of one person. It would also show much more modesty to follow the voice of many wise and learned men than the light of your own experience. But the fact is that neither experience nor tradition will do.

Now Bildad appealed to tradition (vv.8-10). In this he contradicted what Eliphaz had said. If Eliphaz had only been born "yesterday", what value was his observation? But Bildad's appeal to tradition was just as empty as the appeal of Eliphaz to observation, for Bildad came to the wrong conclusion also.

Bildad here seeks confirmation of his contention from the wisdom of past ages. He goes beyond Eliphaz: "For we are but as children of yesterday." This is true. But what does the stored-up wisdom of all the past give us when the question is God's truth? It is not to the past that we are to turn, but to God and His word. How immeasurably superior is the position of those who have the "sure word of prophecy," "the oracles of God."

No one has any right to make his own experience a rule for others. If one man has no right, neither do many men together. In other words, it is not the voice of man but the voice of God which must govern us all. It is not experience or tradition which shall judge at the last day, but the word of God.

Next comes Bildad the Shuhite (Job 8), who follows Eliphaz, but with a great deal more harshness, and so draws a sharper reply from Job. In reproving Job he does not hesitate to suppose that his children had brought on themselves the due reward of their deeds, and hints that he himself could not be what he seemed.

What a contrast this life of "days" and "vanity" and "shadow" is with life eternal! That life is now given in Christ to the believer, with the bright hope of being with Him Who is its source and fulness. There, where He is, we shall have its perfect, unhindered expansion and display in its proper heavenly sphere. But all was veiled then. Now Christ has brought life and incorruption to light through the gospel.

In verses 8-10, Bildad showed where he stood in the argument that was developing. He valued highly the piled-up treasures of human wisdom. Even in those far-off days, people could search records kept from still earlier times. Eliphaz argued from his own observation — what he had seen himself. Bildad argued from tradition — what could be learned from the records of earlier days. He did not trust a conclusion drawn from one person's experience, since a man's days on earth are only "a shadow."

In this, Bildad contradicted what Eliphaz had said. If Eliphaz was born only "yesterday", what value was his observation? But Bildad's appeal to tradition was just as empty as the appeal of Eliphaz to observation, for Bildad came to the wrong conclusion too.

The authority of many "fathers" carries much more weight and respect than the experience of a single individual. What is more, letting many wise and learned men guide you shows much more modesty than following the light of your own experience. But the fact is that neither experience nor tradition will do... As for tradition, it is a mass of confusion — one father differs from another, and nothing can be more slippery or uncertain than the voice of tradition.

So Bildad goes on with this: "Will they not teach you, and tell you, and utter words out of their heart?" But we want the words out of God's heart. Only His heart can do that... and their thoughts were no better than the marsh plant that grew out of the water, or the reed that grew out of the mud.

Those are the two ways in which men are apt to slip away from the truth — confidence in self; confidence in other people no better than oneself; confidence in anyone but God. So he says, "Enquire, I pray you, of the former age" — for people think that a little further back is where we should go. Why, beloved friends, we want to go back to the beginning; we want to go back to God's beginning.

Eliphaz used his eyes; Bildad used his ears; and Zophar used his brains. Not one of them found the solution to this problem by human wisdom, however they gained that wisdom... Had it depended upon our eyes, or our ears, or our brains, what should we have known of these wonderful things?

While this is true, what does the gathered wisdom of all the past give us when the question is God's truth? We are not to turn to the past, but to God and His word. Those who have the "sure word of prophecy," "the oracles of God," are in a position far beyond compare.

achu, a soft reed that can only grow in moist ground: it is eaten by cattle. Job 8:11.

The papyrus does not lift its head so high by any strength of its own. It rises from the abundant mire in which it thrives its little day. The same is true of the flag or bulrush of the East: it grows from sheer excess of moisture, not from solid ground. This is so true that they do not decay slowly, like other plants. They are the first to wither, even without being cut down.

Eliphaz argued from his own observation — from what he had seen. Bildad argued from tradition — from what could be learned in the records of earlier days. He distrusted conclusions drawn from personal experience, since the days of a man on earth are only "a shadow."

Bildad here seeks confirmation of his contention from the wisdom of past ages. He goes beyond Eliphaz: "For we are but as children of yesterday." That is true. But what does the stored-up wisdom of all the past give us when the question is God's truth? It is not to the past that we are to turn, but to God and His word.

Yet Bildad had much to say that was right and good. There is always a reason for things developing, but Bildad did not read that reason correctly in Job's case. Also he says that a reed may wither while yet green, and he uses this as a picture of those who forget God (vv.11-12). True enough. But he was wrongly suggesting that Job had forgotten God. He treated Job's perishing hope as a sign that Job must be a hypocrite (v.13). It is certainly true that the hypocrite's hope shall perish, but to apply this to Job was totally unfair.

And here we have the wisdom of Bildad as he learned it from the past. It is all true and sublimely stated: the wicked cannot prosper, their doom is certain. On the other hand God will not cast off the perfect man. But Job is in the position of a man God has cast off. So he must belong to the wicked who do not prosper. Bildad hides this beneath his fine words.

Well, that is just what their condition was — mire and water. There was no substance at all, just mire and water. Their thoughts were no better than the flag that grew out of the water, or the reed that grew out of the mire. And he talks about the hypocrite being no better than a spider's web. That is exactly what they were, though they were not hypocrites. Still, they were all wrong in their reasonings, and wrong reasoning is never better than a spider's web.

This is all true of the stony-ground hearers. 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 into everlasting life. "The hypocrite's hope shall perish", but the feeblest sheep of Christ shall never perish. But if he looks at his own imagined greenness — at his own boasted goodness — it will fade away. And so Satan gets the advantage. There may be much freshness of soul at conversion, like the green flag; but beware of trusting in this.

The papyrus lifts its head so high by no strength of its own. Its height comes from the plentiful mud where it thrives for its short day. The same is true of the reed or bulrush of the East, which grows from sheer excess of moisture, not from solid ground. This is so true that they do not decay slowly, like other plants, but are the first to wither without being cut down.

The water-reed, or papyrus, grows thick and lush while water is around its roots. As soon as the water is gone, it withers faster than any other plant. So is the prosperity of the wicked, who for a time spreads himself as a green bay tree. The hope of the ungodly — not merely the hypocrite — perishes.

Things always grow for a reason. But Bildad read that reason wrongly in Job's case. He also says that a reed may wither while still green, and he uses this as a picture of those who forget God. True enough. But he was wrongly suggesting that Job had forgotten God. Job's hope seemed to be perishing, so Bildad took him for a hypocrite. It is certainly true that the hypocrite's hope will perish, but to apply this to Job was totally unfair.

A believer should not make haste; he should wait where he does not have the assurance of God's mind. Least of all should he have put the worst possible construction on what he did not understand. He did just that. It made Job's trial harder and provoked his spirit, which then gave an appearance of evil to those who suspected evil. So the confusion grew worse, and the true answer lay hidden in deeper darkness from their eyes. Did it ever occur to the three friends that the wise thing would have been to pray, instead of talking, judging, and condemning?

This is all true of the stony-ground hearers. But it is not true of Job, and not true of the soul that truly trusts in Christ. The water that is in him is a well of water, springing up into everlasting life. "The hypocrite's hope will perish" — but the feeblest sheep of Christ will never perish. But suppose he looks at his own imagined greenness, at his own boasted goodness. Then it will fade away, and Satan gains the advantage. At conversion there may be much freshness of soul, like the green reed. But beware of trusting in it. When the real character of the flesh comes out, the setback is often as great as the joy was. Then the darts fly: "Have I deceived myself?" "Perhaps I have no root in Christ." Then what darkness of soul, what confusion! The eye is off Christ, and the heart is listening to Satan. Even the very first question, that of justification, is no longer settled. It was just so with Job at the end of Bildad's speech.

So in the rest of the chapter he summarised what tradition would teach. He illustrated his point with things in nature, like the rush and the spider's web. He claimed that all history showed that God repaid man according to what he deserved. If evil, he is cut off. If good, he is prospered. To tell Job that "the hypocrite's hope shall perish" was a cut this time not at Job's children but at Job himself.

In this section Bildad traces the way of the wicked; and there is much truth in what he says, though it is not all the truth. Can the water-reed, or papyrus, flourish without moisture? It grows thick and fast while water is around its roots. Once that water is gone, it withers faster than any other plant. So is the prosperity of the wicked, who for a time spreads himself like a green bay tree. The hope of the ungodly — not just the hypocrite — perishes. Changing his picture, Bildad compares the confidence of the wicked to a man leaning on a spider's web. What a pitiful state, clinging for nothing to something so frail!

There always was and always will be such a generation — people who mix in with the saints of God. They make a show of heaven, with heavenly speeches, while their hearts are lined with hypocrisy. By it they deceive others, and most of all themselves. Such people may be the world's saints, but in Christ's account they are devils. "Have I not chosen you twelve, and one of you is a devil?" And truly, of all devils, none is so bad as the professing devil, the preaching, praying devil.

Also he says that a reed may wither while still green, and he uses this as a comparison for those who forget God (vv. 11-12). True enough, but he was wrong to suggest that Job had forgotten God. He was also wrong to treat Job's hope, which seemed to be perishing, as proof that Job must be a hypocrite (v. 13). It is certainly true that the hypocrite's hope shall perish, but to apply this to Job was totally unfair.

So it is with the wicked, both in their rise and in their ruin: the paths of all who forget God end this way, surely and miserably, and the hope of the impure is just as fleeting... If Job really is a perfect man, God will not cast him away until He gives him the fullest grounds for thankful praise, confounds his enemies, and destroys the wicked for ever. (But neither does He grasp the hand of evil-doers.) But when he applied this to Job, there was no fellowship with God in Bildad's thoughts, and no gracious consideration for the sufferer. He judged by appearances, and so his judgment was unrighteous.

"The hypocrite's hope shall perish;" but the feeblest sheep of Christ shall never perish. But if he looks at his own imagined greenness — at his own boasted goodness — this will fade away; and so Satan gains the advantage. There may be much freshness of soul at conversion — like the green flag; but beware of trusting in this... Then showers of darts come: "Have I deceived myself?" "I do not feel as I did." "Perhaps I have no root in Christ." "The hypocrite's hope shall perish." Then, oh, what darkness of soul — what perplexity! The eye is off Christ; the heart is listening to Satan.

So in the rest of the chapter he summarised what tradition would teach, illustrating his point by things in nature, like the rush and the spider's web. He claimed that all history showed that God repaid man according to what he deserved. If a man is evil, God cuts him off. If he is good, God makes him prosper. To tell Job that "the hypocrite's hope shall perish" was a cut this time not at Job's children but at Job himself.

The object of their confidence is no firmer than a spider's web, though he may cling to it ever so tightly. It has no more permanence than the rank weed which spreads over a garden and twists its shoots into a stone-heap.

We know this creature is the spider, because Scripture mentions its web. The web is very frail, so it pictures the trust of the hypocrite. It also pictures the weaving of the wicked, which will not give them a garment. Job 8:14; Isa. 59:5.

So is the prosperity of the wicked, who for a time spreads himself like a green bay tree. The hope of the ungodly — not merely the hypocrite — perishes. Then Bildad changes the picture. He compares the confidence of the wicked to someone leaning on a spider's web. How pitiful is the state of a man clinging in vain to something so frail!

They were all arguing on the ground of righteousness. Not one of them had taken in any thought of grace, up to this point and for long after… Bildad talks about the hypocrite being no better than a spider's web. That is exactly what they were, though they were not hypocrites. They were all wrong in their reasoning, and wrong reasoning is never better than a spider's web.

Applied to the present case, there was no fellowship with God in Bildad's thoughts, and no gracious consideration for the sufferer. So his judgment, going by appearances, was unrighteous.

This is all true of the stony-ground hearers. It is not true of Job, and not true of the soul that sincerely trusts in Christ… "The hypocrite's hope shall perish." But the weakest sheep of Christ shall never perish. If he looks at his own imagined greenness — at his own boasted goodness — this will fade away, and so Satan gets the advantage. There may be much freshness of soul at conversion, like a green reed. But beware of trusting in this.

This is man's day, a day in which he has thrown off all law and followed the dictates of his own evil heart… But God's day is coming. In that day everything man trusts in will be like a spider's web, blown to pieces by the first blast of His withering wrath. He will find himself homeless, exposed to the eternal condemnation of his Creator, whose mercy he has so despised.

Bildad now takes up what is fast becoming a dispute. There is perhaps less of the courtesy and dignity that marked the speech of Eliphaz, and there is some harshness toward Job, apparently caused by Job's bitter charge against God. For all that he does not know about God's ways, Bildad cares deeply about God's honor, and cannot allow Him to be accused. In this he is right. But he fails to convince Job, because of the error at the root of the thinking of all of them: God must punish sin, so Job must be a sinner, since he is being punished.

Changing his picture, Bildad compares the confidence of the wicked to a man leaning on a spider's web. How pitiful is the state of someone clinging to something so frail, and all for nothing! Piling up images again, he compares this passing prosperity to a lush vine spreading over a heap of stones in the garden, full of sap and strength in the bright sunshine. Soon God cuts him off, and the place that once knew him will know him no more. Others will take his place.

Bildad saw that Job's confidence had been shaken. He treated that confidence as "cut off," as though Job had been trusting a spider's web (v.14). He further says, "He leans against his house, but it does not stand" (v.15). Of course he is thinking of how Job had leaned on the stability of his house, but it had collapsed: all his family was gone.

It is certainly true that the hypocrite's hope shall perish, but to apply this to Job was totally unfair.

And he talks about the hypocrite being no better than a spider's web. That is exactly what they were. They were not hypocrites, but they were all wrong in their reasoning, and wrong reasoning is never better than a spider's web.

They were all arguing on the ground of righteousness. Not one of them had taken in, up to this point and for long after, any thought of grace. And Job only arrived at it at last when God stepped in. There he was dust and ashes. There he took the place of nothingness, and worse than nothingness. Then he was blessed; then he was vindicated by God, and not till then.

"The hypocrite's hope shall perish," but the weakest sheep of Christ shall never perish. Yet if he looks at his own imagined greenness — at his own boasted goodness — that will fade away, and so Satan gains the advantage. There may be much freshness of soul at conversion, like the green reed; but beware of trusting in this... Then come showers of darts, such as: "Have I deceived myself?" "I do not feel as I did." "Perhaps I have no root in Christ." "The hypocrite's hope shall perish." Then, oh, what darkness of soul — what confusion! The eye is off Christ; the heart is listening to Satan.

"He is green before the sun, and his branch shoots forth in his garden. His roots are wrapped about the heap" — to get a little strength from the heap — "and sees the place of stones." That is what the reed does to get a firm hold.

There is much truth in what he says, though it is not all the truth... Once more he reaches for a picture. He compares this passing prosperity to a rich vine covering a heap of stones in the garden, full of sap and strength in the bright sunshine. Soon God cuts him off, and the place that once knew him will know him no more.

In verses 16 and 17 he speaks of the hypocrite. At first he grows green in the sun, his branches spreading out and his roots wrapped around the rock heap, and he appears to be doing well. But he may be destroyed from his place, and his place denies that it ever saw him (v.18) — that is, there is no evidence left that he was ever prosperous. This may well be true of the hypocrite when he is finally exposed and shamed. But Bildad hinted that Job had suffered things like the destruction he describes, so Job must be a hypocrite! But Bildad did not yet know the end of the story, and his assumptions were ill-considered and false.

For all his ignorance of divine principles, Bildad cares deeply about the honour of God, and cannot let anyone accuse Him. In this he is right. But he fails to convince Job, because of the root error in the thinking of all of them: God must punish sin, and Job must be a sinner, because God is punishing him.

We need not be surprised that he could not see in advance the lessons God meant this very book to teach. But a believer should not rush. He should wait where he is not sure of God's mind. Least of all should he have put the worst possible meaning on what he did not understand. That is what he did, and it made Job's trial heavier and provoked his spirit... Did it ever occur to the three friends that the wise thing would have been to pray, instead of talking, judging and blaming?

This is all true of those who hear the word on stony ground. It is not true of Job, and not true of the soul that truly trusts in Christ... But if he looks at his own imagined greenness — at his own boasted goodness — that will fade away, and so Satan gains the advantage. There may be much freshness of soul at conversion, like the green reed. But beware of trusting in that. Very often the reaction is as strong as the joy was great, when the true character of the flesh comes to light.

"His roots are wrapped about the heap" — to get a little strength from the heap — "and sees the place of stones." That is what the reed does to get a firm grip.

Bildad's images keep pouring out. He compares this short-lived prosperity to a lush vine covering a heap of stones in the garden, full of sap and strength in the bright sunshine. Soon God cuts him off, and "the place that once knew him shall know him no more." Others take his place.

It lasts no longer than the coarse weed that spreads over a garden and winds its shoots into a stone heap. But it is all in vain. He may look on a house of stone, but he is soon destroyed, like a harmful weed that only takes up space in the ground. The ground then denies him, as if it had never seen him. This is the joy of his way and the bitter end of godless prosperity. Yet such men keep coming, just as such weeds do: one springs up after another out of the dust, only to pass away even faster.

In verses 16 and 17 he speaks of the hypocrite. At first he grows green in the sun, his branches spread out, and his roots wrap around the rock heap. He seems to be doing well... This description may indeed be true of the hypocrite when he is finally exposed and humbled. But Bildad hinted that since Job had suffered things like the destruction he describes, Job must be a hypocrite! Bildad did not yet know the end of the story, and his assumptions were careless and false.

But applied to Job's case, there was no fellowship with God in Bildad's thoughts, and no gracious care for the sufferer. So his judgment went by appearances, and it was unrighteous.

The authority of many "fathers" carries far more weight and respect than the experience of one person... But the fact is that neither experience nor tradition will do. Experience may be true, as far as it goes, but you can hardly find two people whose experience matches exactly. As for tradition, it is a mass of confusion — one father differs from another. Nothing is more slippery or uncertain than the voice of tradition, the authority of the fathers.

Even so, what does all the gathered wisdom of the past give us when the question is God's truth? We are not to turn to the past, but to God and His word.

"His roots are wrapped about the heap" — to get a little strength from the heap — "and sees the place of stones." That is what the reed does to get a firm hold... The same is true of man on the earth. He passes away, and his memory is so forgotten that the place itself says it never saw him — it is all completely forgotten.

In this part Bildad traces the way of the wicked, and there is much truth in what he says, though it is not all the truth... Once more his images come pouring out. He compares this passing prosperity to a lush vine covering a heap of stones in the garden, full of sap and strength in the bright sunshine. Soon God cuts him off, and "the place that once knew him shall know him no more." Others shall take his place.

The papyrus does not lift its head so high by any strength of its own. It does so because of the deep mud in which it thrives for its little day... And this is so true that these plants do not decay slowly, like other plants. They are the first to wither, though no one has cut them down.

But he may be destroyed from his place, and his place then denies that it ever saw him (v.18). Nothing remains to show that he was ever prosperous. This description may indeed be true of the hypocrite when he is finally exposed and shamed. But Bildad hinted that Job had suffered things like the destruction he describes, so Job must be a hypocrite! Bildad did not yet know the end of the story, and his assumptions were poorly thought out and false.

For all his ignorance of God's principles, Bildad is zealous for the honour of God and will not let anyone accuse Him. In this he is right. But he fails to convince Job, because of the root error in the thinking of all of them: God must punish sin, and Job must be a sinner, because he is being punished.

He may look on a house of stone, but he is soon destroyed — a harmful weed that only takes up room in the ground, and the ground then denies him as if it had never seen him... But applied to Job, Bildad's thoughts held no fellowship with God and no kindness for the man who was suffering. So his judgment went by appearances, and it was unrighteous.

The lesson of the first importance here is that outward calamities do not prove that a man is in the wrong place... Nor is outward success a necessary evidence of God's approval. This is a very basic lesson, yet it cannot be repeated too often. We have such a strong tendency to judge in that crude and childish way. So we are likely to accept the verdict of Job's comforters when we judge the lives of others — and to let the same tests mislead us about our own path.

What a wicked man trusts in is no firmer than a spider's web, however tightly he clings to it. It lasts no longer than the coarse weed that spreads over a garden and winds its shoots into a heap of stones… He is quickly destroyed, as a useless and harmful thing taking up room in the ground, and the ground then disowns him as if it had never seen him. Although this is the joy of his way and the bitter end of godless prosperity, there is a succession of such men, just as there is of such weeds. One springs up after another out of the dust, only to pass away even faster.

"Behold, this is the joy of his way" (v.19), that is, the joy of the hypocrite is only brief and ends abruptly. "And out of the soil others will spring." The hypocrites will be forgotten, for others will be born to take their place.

So in the rest of the chapter he summarised what tradition would teach, illustrating his point by things in nature, like the rush and the spider's web. He claimed that all history showed that God repaid man according to what he deserved. If a man is evil, God cuts him off. If he is good, God makes him prosper. To tell Job that "the hypocrite's hope shall perish" was a cut this time not at Job's children but at Job himself.

Here Bildad traces the way of the wicked. There is much truth in what he says, though it is not all the truth… Soon God cuts him off, and "the place that once knew him will know him no more." Others will take his place.

But applied to this case, there was no fellowship with God in Bildad's thoughts and no gracious concern for the sufferer. So his judgment went by appearances, and it was unrighteous.

They were all arguing on the ground of righteousness. Not one of them had taken in, up to this and for long after, any thought of grace. And Job only arrived at it at last by the intervention of God. There he was dust and ashes. There he took the place of nothing at all, and worse than nothing. Then he was blessed. Then God vindicated him — and not before.

"The hypocrite's hope shall perish"; but the feeblest sheep of Christ shall never perish. But if a believer looks at his own imagined greenness, at his own boasted goodness, it will fade away, and Satan gains the advantage. There may be much freshness of soul at conversion, like the green flag; but beware of trusting in this.

"Behold, this is the joy of his way" (v.19), that is, the joy of the hypocrite is short and soon over. In contrast to this, "God will not reject the blameless," while He will not uphold evildoers (v.20). If Job were blameless, God would fill Job's mouth with laughing and his lips with rejoicing (v.21). No doubt Bildad was implying that Job could even yet find such blessing if he would return to living a blameless life.

"Behold, God will not reject a blameless man." But God was trying and troubling the blameless at that very moment. Job's friends could never take this into their minds. They did not understand it or believe it in the slightest degree. So their reasons were all false, and more than that, unkind through and through. It is a sad thing to be unkind to what is good and true. It is just as sad to be very kind to what is not good and not true.

If Job really is a blameless man, God will not reject him — and neither does He take the hand of evildoers. He will not cast Job off until He gives him the fullest grounds for thankful praise, defeats his enemies, and destroys the wicked forever. But applied to this case, Bildad's thoughts held no fellowship with God and no gracious care for the sufferer. So he judged by appearances, and his judgment was unrighteous.

Job knew that much of what Bildad said was true. God will not reject a blameless man. He will fill the blameless man's mouth with laughter and his lips with shouts of joy, and those who hate him will be clothed with shame (Job 8:20–22). All of this happened to Job once his days of testing were over. But Bildad did not understand that God could test a man hard — a man whose life already pleased Him — so that it might please Him still more.

It was all very well for Bildad to say "God will not reject a blameless man." No one ever thought He would. But where is the blameless man to be found? Job himself felt that he was not that man. God gives His answer to the guilty man's "hard question" in Romans 3:21-26. The redemption that is in Christ Jesus lets God justify by His grace, as a free gift, everyone who owns his guilt and believes in His Son.

Next, he argues that God's ways are just by telling Job there is restoring mercy for him, if he will only turn to God in prayer. "If you are pure and upright" — those words carry a strong hint of suspicion — then God will restore everything and bless Job's later days. This did come true, but in a very different way from what Bildad expected. God blessed Job not for his purity, and not because he confessed the evil Bildad suspected.

Next comes Bildad the Shuhite (Job 8). He follows Eliphaz, but with much more harshness, and so he draws a sharper reply out of Job. While rebuking Job, he does not hesitate to suppose that Job's children had brought on themselves what their deeds deserved. He also hints that Job himself could not be what he seemed. He speaks and thinks only of justice. Yet he urges Job to repent, and more blessing than ever would surely follow. The greenest, freshest plant is the first to wither. The hope of the hypocrite or the impure is no more than a spider's web, and the place where he stood will deny it ever saw him, while the upright is filled with joy.

If Job really is a perfect man, God will not cast him away. Neither does He take the hand of evildoers. God will keep him until He gives him the fullest grounds for thankful praise, confounds his enemies, and destroys the wicked forever. But in Job's case, Bildad's thoughts had no fellowship with God and no gracious care for the sufferer. He judged by appearances, and so his judgment was unrighteous.

Lastly Bildad reminds Job of the sure reward for the righteous. God will not join hands with evildoers by punishing the righteous. He will fill Job's mouth with laughter and his tongue with singing, and all wickedness will stop its mouth, if —

Job knew that much of what Bildad said was true. God will not cast away a perfect man. He will fill the mouth of the perfect man with laughter and his lips with rejoicing. Those who hated Job would be clothed with shame (Job 8:20–22). This is what happened to Job after his days of testing were over. But Bildad did not understand one thing. God could test very severely the man whose life was pleasing to Him, so that his life might please Him still more.

The reasoning of Bildad rests on exactly the same principle as that of Eliphaz. It is all founded on God's moral government. No one can grieve God or cast a truly righteous man to the ground, and God is sure to bring every wicked man to nothing. It is all founded on what is going on in the world now. There was no faith in it. There was conscience, conscience toward God. But conscience never reveals God and never can, however useful and important it is for the soul.

Yet the Lord does not let His saint go without proof of His interest and blessing. Job therefore received even then this testimony of what God is. He did not forget the man who had passed through such a storm of trial. Job had held on to Him even when He seemed to be against His servant… But Job only held on to God because God held on to Job. That was the real root of the matter. It is grace after all that gives and keeps integrity.

The word usually translated "tent" is ohel. The Authorised Version often translates it "tabernacle." It also stands for "dwelling" or "habitation," as in Job 8:22 and Psalm 91:10.

If Job is really a perfect man, God will not cast him away — though neither does He grasp the hand of evildoers. He will not cast him away until He has given him the fullest grounds for thankful praise, shamed his enemies, and destroyed the wicked for ever. But applied to Job's case, Bildad's thoughts held no fellowship with God and no gracious care for the sufferer. So his judgment went by appearances, and it was unrighteous.

It is all true and grandly stated: the wicked cannot prosper, and their doom is certain. On the other hand, God will not cast off the perfect man. But Job is in the place of a man cast off. So he must belong to the wicked who do not prosper. That is hidden beneath Bildad's rhetoric. Yet the closing sentences of his first speech are beautiful, and Job fully acknowledged their truth in his reply.

If Job were blameless, God would fill Job's mouth with laughing and his lips with rejoicing. Bildad was surely hinting that Job could still find such blessing if he returned to a blameless life. Then even those who hated Job would be clothed with shame, and the home of the wicked would come to nothing. He did not mean that Job was wicked. He meant that the wicked who opposed Job would be subdued.

Things that are true, but misunderstood and misapplied, may do more harm than many a false thing. Misapplied truth gives an error the apparent authority of God. That error carries all the more weight, because it comes as the truth. If someone says a foolish thing, or something clearly false, people despise it. But no believer can brush aside the truth of God. So when someone uses the truth of God wrongly — using it to crush one who is an object of intense interest to God at the time — how foreign and offensive to His mind!

Job knew that much of what Bildad said was true: that "God will not cast away a perfect man," that He will fill the perfect man's mouth with laughter and his lips with rejoicing, and that those who hated him would be clothed with shame. This is what happened to Job once his days of testing were over. But Bildad did not understand that God could test a man very hard when that man's life pleased Him, so that it might please Him still more.

This was indeed fulfilled, but in a very different way from what Bildad expected. Job is blessed not for his purity, and not for confessing the evil Bildad suspected.