JOB 8-10
BILDAD VS JOB
It is all the same. Therefore I say,
He destroys both the blameless and the wicked.
—Job 9:22
“Let’s hear what Bildad has to say then,” said the man, looking down to read:
How long will you say such things?
Your words are a blustering wind.
Does God pervert justice?
Does the Almighty pervert what is right?103
If your children have sinned against Him,
He has delivered them into the hand of their transgression.104
If you will seek God and plead with the Almighty for mercy,105
if you are pure and upright,
surely now He will stir Himself for you
and restore your righteous estate.106
Then, even if your beginnings were modest,
your final days will be full of prosperity.107
Just ask the previous generation,
pay attention to the experience of our ancestors.
For we were born but yesterday and know nothing,
our days on Earth are as fleeting as a shadow.
But those who came before us will teach you,
they will teach you the wisdom of old.108
Can papyrus grow where there is no marsh?
Can reeds flourish where there is no water?
While yet in flower and not cut down,
they wither before any other plant.109
Such is the destiny of all who forget God,
the hope of the godless will perish.110
His confidence is fragile,
and His trust is a spider’s web.111
They lean on the web, but it gives way.
They cling to it, but it does not hold.
They are like a well-watered plant in the sunshine,
spreading its shoots over the garden.
It entwines its roots around a pile of rocks
and looks for a place among the stones.112
But when it is uprooted,
it’s as though it never existed!
That’s the end of its life,
and others spring up from the earth to replace it.113
God does not reject a person of integrity,
and He will not support evildoers.
He will yet fill your mouth with laughter
and your lips with a shout of joy.
Your enemies will be clothed with shame,
the tent of the wicked will no longer exist.114
As the man looked up, the boy said, “Well, that was rude.”
“Yes, while Eliphaz at least tries to ease into his speech, Bildad comes in swinging hard.”
“First, his wife tells him to curse God and die, then Eliphaz offers nothing, and now this guy is saying, ‘Shut up, ya old windbag’? Job doesn’t have much left of his tribe.”
“I can’t even imagine,” said the man, “sitting there like Job, knowing your ten children are buried just over yonder, and one of the first things this comforter says is, ‘It’s their own fault they’re dead, Job. You knew they were capable of great sin when you were offering sacrifices.’ With the emotional stakes raised, I’m surprised Job didn’t stand up and give this bloke a good pop on the chin.”
“Seriously,” said the boy.
“Seriously?” said the man. “What was it you called Job’s children? Boozehounds?”
“Woah, woah, woah. Don’t throw me in the same camp as Bildad,” said the boy. “I may have suggested there was some debauchery going on at those parties, but I’m also in the camp that said the punishment didn’t fit the crime. These guys seem to be defending God at all costs, saying He can do no wrong. That’s not where I stand.”
“Mhmm,” said the man, eyeing the boy. “But it’s true. While Bildad has come running to God’s defense, he’s done so by tactlessly thrusting a dagger into Job’s already broken heart. I had to read that line to myself two or three times to believe a ‘friend’ would say that to a grieving father. He speaks hypothetically, of course, but in a manner in which he practically spat in Job’s face.”
“The worst part is that his accusation isn’t even based on anything. I was just joking around when I said we didn’t know what was going on in those parties, but this guy made a serious leap in assumptions.”
“You’re certainly correct there,” said the man. “Bildad doesn’t rely on facts or evidence to support his claim, but rather reasoning backed by theoretical deduction. Whoever dies a fearful, sudden death, he assumes, must have been a great sinner. The only reason Job was spared, he goes on, is that Job’s sins must not have been as grievous as his children’s. Bildad’s error in thinking is that he assumes a simple equation explains all the mystery in human life.”
“Right, he doesn’t take into consideration that babies die in birth or anything like that,” said the boy. “Although he’d probably rationalize it with some sin in the womb at this rate. But the equation he’s spelling out definitely sucks the mystery right out of God.”
“Precisely,” said the man. “As sure as A plus B equals C, Bildad remains convinced not to acknowledge anything that could contradict his beliefs. We get the sense that he never experienced any kind of seemingly unjust suffering himself, and certainly none that ever involved his own children. Instead, he leans on ‘wisdom of old,’ which brings up the point that Bildad only looks to the past to study God, as opposed to what’s going on right now. While we should certainly value traditional wisdom gathered by prior generations, it doesn’t always apply to us in the present day.”
“Then he turns into a prophet all of a sudden,” said the boy, “and sees some future where if Job pleads with God, then He’ll restore his estate.”
“Yes, and apparently fill his mouth with laughter and joy,” said the man. “First, he takes for granted that Job wasn’t pure and upright to begin with, then he affirms his prophecy by assuming Job’s future behavior would be more worthy in the eyes of God than his previous behavior. I think we can derive from this a cautionary tale around those who declare what God will and will not deliver based on assumptions and traditions of old.”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” said the boy.
“This series of empty comments on the life hereafter is hardly what Job was looking for. He must have been sitting there wondering what in the world there was to gain from all this when the truth is there was nothing. Talk about a windbag! Bildad missed his mark as comforter by a mile, somehow feeling warranted in declaring these promises on behalf of the Lord. And allegedly, this had all been reported by the ancestors, so Job need not question it at all. Rather, he should just repent his secret sins and move on to prosperity again.”
“I’m sure this speech cheered Job right up,” said the boy. “I assume he’s got a response?”
“He sure does,” said the man, looking down to read Job’s next line:
Yes, I know all this is true in principle.
But how can a person be declared innocent in God’s sight?115
If one wished to dispute with Him,
he could not answer Him once in a thousand times.116
God is wise and all-powerful.
Who has opposed Him and come out unharmed?117
He removes mountains without their knowledge,
overturning them in His anger.
He shakes the earth from its place
so that its pillars tremble.
He commands the sun not to shine
and seals off the stars.
He alone stretches out the heavens
and treads on the waves of the sea.
He makes the stars,
the Bear, Orion, the Pleiades,
and the constellations of the southern sky.
He does great and unsearchable things,
wonders without number.118
If He passed by me, I wouldn’t see Him.
If He went by, I wouldn’t recognize Him.
If He snatches something, who can stop Him?
Who can ask Him, “What are you doing?”119
God does not restrain His anger.
Even the cohorts of Rahab cowered at His feet.120
How then can I answer Him
or choose my arguments against Him?
Even if I were in the right, I could not answer.
I could only beg my Judge for mercy.
If I summoned Him and He answered me,
I do not believe He would pay attention to what I said.121
For He bruises me with a storm
and multiplies my wounds without cause.
He will not allow me to get my breath,
but He saturates me with bitterness.122
If it’s a question of strength, He’s the strong one.
If it’s a matter of justice, who dares to summon Him to court?123
Though I am righteous, my mouth will condemn me.
Though I am guiltless, He will declare me guilty.124
Though I am blameless, I no longer care about myself.
I renounce my life.125
It is all the same. Therefore I say,
He destroys both the blameless and the wicked.126
When disaster brings sudden death,
He mocks at the calamity of the innocent.127
The earth is handed over to the wicked.
He blindfolds its judges.
If it isn’t He, then who is it?128
My days are swifter than a runner,
they fly away without a glimpse of joy.
They skim past like boats of papyrus,
like eagles swooping down on their prey.129
If I said, “I will forget my complaint,
change my expression, and smile,”
I would still live in terror of all my pains.
I know You will not acquit me.
Since I will be found guilty,
why should I struggle in vain?130
Even if I were to wash myself with soap
and clean my hands with lye,
You would plunge me into a muddy ditch,
and my own filthy clothing would hate me.131
For He is not a man like me,
that I can answer Him,
that we can take each other to court.
There is no mediator between us,
to lay his hand on both of us.132
The mediator could make God stop beating me,
and I would no longer live in terror of His punishment.133
Then I would speak and not fear Him.
But that is not the case, I am on my own.134
“At least we can say Job has come a long way from rolling over and taking it,” said the boy.
“Mmm, he sure has,” said the man. “He’s gone from sunk in the depths of sorrow to fired up by these accusations of his friends. He’s no longer going to lie down in despair. Instead, he stands up to fight back once more.”
“I think he made a good point about there being no mediator between him and God though,” said the boy. “It seems like there should be someone to judge these kinds of unfair situations.”
“Ah, but who should be higher than the Most High?” said the man. “Who’d decide what God can and cannot do in the world He created? You and Job believe there should be a force that makes God play fair, to follow the rules of logic. But if there were such a force, would God still be all-powerful? Would His ability to rule be compromised? The only limitations imposed on God that make sense, theologically speaking, are the limits God puts on Himself. Imagine if some other being had the power to dictate what God could and couldn’t do, to punish His actions, even throw Him in jail. Who would be left to rule the power vacuum then?”
The boy had no response.
“Can a being who is all-powerful also be entirely good? Can an all-powerful God be completely moral? Doesn’t exercising power itself erode at the potential of morality in some way? These are the kinds of questions churning in Job’s mind. To be all-powerful means there are no restraints, no necessary consideration of fairness, compassion, or other opinions. Of course, God could choose to take these factors into consideration, but He doesn’t have to heed their bounds. What Job yearns for, what I think we all yearn for, is a God powerful enough to protect the innocent and punish the wicked, yet not so powerful as to act beyond the constraints of compassion and fairness.”
“Sounds like a complicated job,” said the boy.
“Now you’re catching on,” said the man. “We have to wrestle with the question of whether or not an all-powerful God can be purely good, and whether a purely good God can still be all-powerful. Arbitrariness may just be a dimension of omnipotence.”
The boy paused for a moment to let that sink in. “But it seems like that’s the conclusion Job came to when he said, ‘It’s all the same.’”
“And I think we also heard one of the most significant lines of our story. ‘If it isn’t He, then who is it?’ With his limited perspective on the tragedies of the first two chapters, Job can think of no one else who stands behind this injustice. So he begins to wrestle with the question, ‘Is God good?’ while perhaps wondering if there could be some other sinister force at play here, one with the power to imitate God. Job is beginning to brush up against the answer the reader already has knowledge of.
“Then, of course, there’s a particularly dreary and frightening line following that one, when he says God mocks the calamity of the innocent while the earth is handed over to the wicked. Job’s lament about judges being blindfolded means that if it makes no difference to God whether a person is good or bad, then why should it matter how we behave?”
“Which I think is a pretty good point,” said the boy.
“And I think the answer is because it’s the right thing to do,” said the man. “But Job pleads that this picture he’s painting isn’t just a problem for him alone. It would mean everyone is at the mercy of this chaotic universe, where there’s a disconnect between behavior and fate.”
“Seems like Job’s friends are just as afraid of that as he is,” said the boy. “They won’t even touch the idea that Job might be telling the truth because that would mean they’re just as vulnerable.”
“Yes, and their anger with him grows as he casts these bold accusations at God, saying He destroys both the blameless and the wicked alike. Meanwhile, Job is slipping into a headspace that all of life is pointless. Of course, if everything he says is true, if he is, in fact, innocent and being punished for no good reason, then he has every reason to curse God. And yet, despite everything Job says about God being some amoral tyrant who takes delight in destroying innocent lives, he never cuts off his relationship with the Lord. Even when he receives nothing but curses from God, he refuses to curse back.”
The boy gave a slow nod but said nothing, so the man went on.
“I think there are two things about Job’s attitude worth noting here. First, is the sense of wonder regarding the vastness of the universe. It’s the first glimpse into Job realizing his problems may be something that lies outside himself, where there are bigger and more profound issues involved. That is a fundamental part of a relationship with God. I believe although Job is hurt and angry, the language he uses still shows a hunger for the Lord. He still clings to the fact that God is behind everything.”
“Or it’s just the realization he’s at God’s mercy,” said the boy.
“That too,” said the man. “Which brings me to the second noteworthy attitude in Job, which is a desire for order. In a world full of chaos on both the personal and cosmic levels, we pray for a sense of harmony. Just as the world is full of earthquakes and volcanoes, so too are personal catastrophes as well. Job still clings to this hope for order as he clings to his relationship with God.”
“Speaking of chaos,” said the boy, “there was some line in there about God not restraining his anger and making the armies of Rabbie afraid or something? I didn’t catch that reference.”
“The cohorts of Rahab,” said the man.
“Right. Them. Who’s Rahab?”
The man let out a sigh. “Well, not to go down the Leviathan path again, but Rahab was supposed to be another mythical dragon, or possibly a different name for the same one. But in this case, when it says, ‘even the cohorts of Rahab cowered at His feet,’ Rahab is a reference to Pharaoh of Egypt in the story of Exodus. The mythical dragon represents darkness and chaos, as did Pharaoh who enslaved God’s chosen people.”
“How do you know they’re calling Pharaoh Rahab?”
“Well, there is a line in Psalms135 that says something like, ‘You crushed Rahab and scattered Your enemies with Your mighty arm.’ And somewhere in Isaiah136 the author refers to Egypt as Rahab. In a later chapter,137 he says something about piercing the dragon and cutting Rahab into pieces, followed by a line about drying up the sea so His people could cross. These are a reference to Exodus when Pharaoh of Egypt was chasing God’s chosen people across the desert until they reached a dead end at the Red Sea. So the Lord parted the sea, as I’m sure you’ve heard, and after they were safely across, the waters came crashing down on the Egyptians who were still chasing after them. Hence, the cohorts of Rahab, or Pharaoh’s men, cowering at God’s feet as He crushed them with walls of water and scattered the enemies of His people.”
“Ah, so He slayed the metaphorical dragon,” said the boy.
“Precisely,” said the man.
“I guess that makes sense,” said the boy, trailing off in thought. “But wait a minute. Didn’t you say Job was one of the first stories of the Bible?”
“I did, yes.”
“And didn’t you say Job was an everyman, not a Jew?”
“Mhm,” said the man. “What are you getting at now?”
“Well, how is a non-Jewish guy referencing the story of Exodus if it hadn’t even happened yet? And you’re quoting Isaiah and Psalms to support it when both of those would have been written after Job as well.” The boy narrowed his eyes. “See, this is why I don’t think cross-referencing different books written by different authors in different times works like that. You almost had me going there for a minute, though.”
The man looked to be stumbling over his own thoughts before blurting out, “Well, do you know who Rahab’s cohorts were then?”
The boy sat in bashful silence for a moment before meekly letting out a “No.”
“Look,” said the man, “I’m willing to admit I’m not a scholar who’s read the ancient scriptures in their native tongue, nor did I live in those times, so what I’m giving you is the best explanations I’ve found for some of these things. And yes, sometimes it’s difficult to tell whether God is slaying an ancient mythological dragon or Pharaoh of Egypt, but this is what we have to deal with at times when reading the Bible.”
The boy, half-listening, snapped his fingers and pointed at the old man excitedly. “Okay, what you said about the Red Sea reminded me of something. So, I’ve been obsessed with dinosaurs since I was a little kid.” The man rolled his eyes, but the boy didn’t notice. “And I remember reading something a while back about people discovering fossils of dinosaurs on the coast of Saudi Arabia. What if,” he added, holding up his hands for emphasis, “these mythical sea monsters you keep bringing up had some kind of basis in reality.”
The man stared blankly at the boy but remained listening.
“Okay, so,” the boy went on, “two of the dinosaurs they found there were Titanosaur and Mosasaur. You with me so far?”
“Yes,” said the man, “but—”
“So the Titanosaur is like, well, picture a Brontosaurus. You know that one? Long neck, huge tail. Like that. One of the biggest dinosaurs we’ve found. Like a hundred feet long or something.”
“Mhm,” said the man, conceding a slow nod.
“Anyway, maybe someone way, way back stumbled upon pieces of a skeleton buried in the old, dried-up seabed or something. So they figured there must have been monsters swimming around the sea. At least at some point if they found their bones. So that’s where the legends of God cutting sea monsters into pieces came from. It could have been based on real evidence and folklore grew around it. They figured if the bones existed, then the creature must have existed. And who could be powerful enough to butcher such a beast but the Big Guy Himself? So the stories about God slaying dragons grew out of finding giant lizard bones.”
“Mhm,” said the man.
“Eh?” said the boy, pumping his eyebrows. “Ehh? What do you think?” But before the man could answer, he went on again. “Heck, even if you just tripped over a giant skull with sharp teeth and a long neck attached, that’s enough to get the old imagination pumpin’. Enough to tell your friends a story about God chopping off the head of a sea monster anyway. Titanosaur wasn’t a swimmer, obviously, but if you’re one of those ancient people stumbling upon something you assume washed up on shore, well, then I could see where the long-necked sea dragon story might come from.”
“While it plausible in theory,” said the man, “I—”
“But get this,” the boy cut him off. “Mosasaurs did live in the water. They were like, a cross between a crocodile and a shark. Something like that. But with shark flippers. Except, it would probably eat sharks because it was that big and terrifying. I mean, we’re talkin’ like fifty or sixty feet long here.”
“Hold your horses,” said the man.
“What?” said the boy. “Sorry, I just think we’re on to something.”
“While I can appreciate your enthusiasm, I don’t want to spoil anything. Let’s just say we’ll get there.”
“I think we did it, man. I think we solved the Bible.”
The old man let out a chuckle as the boy smiled. “Have patience, my boy. We’ll get to Leviathan. Let’s just hear what Job has to say next. He wasn’t quite done yet. And speaking of bones, he’s got a bone to pick with God before we move on.”
With that, the old man looked down to read:
I am disgusted with my own life,
I will express my complaint freely,
I will speak in the bitterness of my soul.138
I will say to God,
Don’t simply condemn me,
tell me the charge You are bringing against me.
What do You gain by oppressing me?
Why do You reject me,
the work of Your own hands,
while smiling on the schemes of the wicked?139
Do You have eyes of flesh?
Or do You see as mankind sees?
Are Your days like the days of a mortal,
or Your years like a man’s year,
that You should search for my guilt
and carefully seek my sin?
According to Your knowledge I am indeed not guilty,
yet there is no one to save me from Your hand.140
Your hands shaped me and formed me.
Will you now turn and destroy me?
Please remember that You formed me like clay.
Will You now return me to dust?141
Did You not pour me out like milk
and curdle me like cheese?142
You clothed me with skin and flesh,
and wove me together with bones and tendons.143
You have granted me life and steadfast love,
and Your care has preserved my spirit.144
Yet You concealed these thoughts in Your heart.
I know that this was Your hidden plan.145
If I sin, You would notice,
and would not acquit me of my iniquity.146
If I am guilty, woe to me!
If I am in the right, I cannot lift up my head,
for I am filled with disgrace and look on my affliction.
And were my head lifted up,
You would hunt me like a lion
and again work wonders against me.147
You produce new witnesses against me
and multiply Your anger toward me.
Hardships assault me, wave after wave.148
Why did You bring me out of the womb?
I should have died and never been seen.
I wish I had never existed
but had been carried from the womb to the grave.
Are my days not few? Stop it!
Leave me alone, so that I can smile a little
before I go to a land of darkness and gloom,
never to return.
It is a land of blackness like the deepest darkness,
gloomy and chaotic,
where even the light is like the darkness.149
“What was that line about milk?”
The old man let out a groan. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask.”
The boy immediately smiled and said, “Well I diiid.”
The old man cleared his throat. “Milk is, well, it’s a metaphor around the color and texture of a father’s, um, well, seed that’s poured into a mother’s womb.”
“Pour—”
“Don’t,” said the man, holding his hand up and looking away. “I’m not in the mood.”
The boy smiled as the old man returned his gaze to the boy and went on.
“This is a modest description of God’s admirable work of forming the embryo in the womb. You should give modesty a try sometime,” said the man. “It might suit you.” He raised his eyebrows, but the boy kept smiling in return. “Anyway, this small liquid gradually coagulates as milk does, and is curdled and condensed like cheese. This, I believe, is a metaphor for the soul, which is then clothed in skin and flesh, supported with bones and tendons. This description mirrors the act of creation in Genesis, with God’s hands shaping individuals like clay as He did with Adam. God’s hand now weighs down heavy on Job, threatening to crush and break to pieces the fragile vessel it once created. So Job asks if, after all this, God will now turn and destroy him, returning him to dust.”
The boy gave a nod. “Very poetic.”
“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not, but this is very poetic indeed. Job is reminding God about the miracle He performed in granting him life and steadfast love. As if God needed a reminder. But then he says, and not so graciously, I might add, that God hid all the affliction He’s burdened Job with now as part of God’s divine plan from the start. Job is saying that God blessing him with all that he had was some kind of veil to hide the intention of ripping the rug out from underneath him, revealing the type of character that mocks the calamity of the innocent. That is, if we’re to build upon Job’s previous dialogue. This was the plan God kept hidden all along, according to Job.”
“I mean maybe it was,” said the boy. “Maybe it was all necessary to teach Job’s soul whatever lessons he needed to learn.”
The man stroked his beard. “You make a fair point. If Job had been poor and crippled his whole life, the challenges he’s facing now wouldn’t have been nearly as impactful if that was all he’d known. The character he develops to overcome these trials wouldn’t be nearly as strong.” The man winked. “Assuming he overcomes them, that is.”
“Spoiler alert!” said the boy.
“Perhaps the soul God molded for Job was meant to face these particular challenges in time, and Job is on the course God planned out all along. But Job here is wrestling with the question of whether or not a plan such as this is moral on God’s part. Job thinks that even if he were to lift up his head again, God would hunt him down as if he were a lion.”
“Huh,” said the boy, “I read that part as God doing the hunting as a lion. Kinda like a housecat tortures a mouse before it kills it.”
The man looked up and to the left for a moment. “I guess that never occurred to me, but I suppose that could be true as well.”
“Doesn’t really matter,” said the boy. “The point was God keeps throwing hardships and witnesses at him.”
“Yes, and Job sees it as unjust to treat someone as guilty who has no knowledge of the offense with which he’s been charged. He believes himself to be a sincere follower of the Lord who has committed no sin, so he wrestles with this idea that God would deliberately inflict pain for no reason because he has no other way to account for what’s happened. He’s asking pain-filled questions like, ‘What do you get by oppressing me while smiling down on the wicked?’”
“Which is a perfectly legitimate question,” said the boy.
“Yes, well, sometimes it’s difficult to see how God uses His pawns to manipulate His chess board,” said the man. “Speaking of which, is it your turn or mine?”
“Yours,” said the boy.
The man moved his queen into a precarious position, revealing a plan he had devised for a while. Then he said, “Job has searched his heart for any unconfessed sin and found none. He does ask God to show him what he’s done and says, ‘If I am guilty, woe is me.’ But you get the sense he wholeheartedly believes in his innocence. So he declares that it’s God who is unfair. He never considers what might be a middle ground, that God afflicts his children for their own benefit, to elevate their character in the end, in which case Job could have held on to his integrity as well as his confidence in the Lord.”
“Yeah. Don’t worry. Let’s keep sweeping the fact that ten children were murdered under the rug here,” said the boy, moving his knight into a position dangerously close to the man’s queen. “But anyway, this circles back to what I was getting at before with the whole Scrooge McDuck thing. Yes, Job is a good worshipper… on paper. But he’s so blinded by ambition that he’s not seeing what Satan was pointing out in the first place. Underneath the sacrifices and gratitude for his blessings, there’s not a genuine relationship with God. Sure, he held onto the whole ‘God is great’ mindset after everything happened, at first, but he was still in shock then. After a few days alone and his friends spitting in his face, we see his true feelings rising to the surface, accusing God of wickedness in planning his downfall from the beginning so He could mock him.
“Job’s problem is that he’s not aware of any problem. So he thinks the problem isn’t with him, that God’s the problem. But just because Job doesn’t see a problem doesn’t mean a problem doesn’t exist. It’s just not a problem he recognizes. And Satan never accused Job of any specific sin, and he never claimed Job wasn’t upright and righteous, he just questioned what was going on inside Job, unseen, underneath all the blessings God gave him. Take away the blessings, and maybe we’ll see something that we couldn’t see before. And now we’re starting to see that come to life. Okay, he hasn’t quite cursed God outright, but he’s definitely flirting with the line. Enough so that you start to think maybe Satan was on to something.”
The man stroked his beard in silence as he thought about it. “So you’re saying Satan was more or less right all along, but Job just hasn’t gone as far as outright cursing God?”
“Exactly,” said the boy. “But we’re only two friends in. Maybe he curses God after this third guy gangs up on him too.”
The man stroked his beard for a moment longer before looking down at the book again.