Heartless Bildad and Hopeless Job (Job 8:1–10:22)

In the text before us, we consider Job as he attends his second “counselling session,” this time with his friend Bildad. As we will detect, sometimes well-meaning friends we can say some very unhelpful things; and sometimes, even when they say helpful things, they can say them in unhelpful ways. Bildad’s approach was simplistic and satanic, truthful and trite. “He heard Job’s words with his ears, but his heart heard nothing…. There are such people in the world and they do heartless disservice to mankind under the guide of being the special friend of God” (Smick).

Job unhappily responded to this unhelpful counsel in chapters 9–10. This is perhaps the most depressive of all Job’s speeches. Perhaps Bildad’s heartless response had brought this about.

In chapter 9, Job was speaking to Bildad and probably also to his other friends. But, in chapter 10, addressed God. As we saw previously, though he felt trampled upon, and though he was deeply confused, by speaking to God he displayed trust in him.

As we briefly view these chapters, it will be helpful to keep before us that Bildad, with his two co-counsellors proclaimed a prosperity theology. Though more sophisticated than today’s popular version, these three friends nonetheless believed that those who live right would be blessed by God and those who did live right would be cursed by God. In both cases, they believed God’s response would be immediate. Stated another way, they believed that everyone always, only, and immediately reaps what they sow.

To be fair to the friends, their speeches show that they took God’s character seriously. But though they were not inept theologians, they were incompetent practitioners of right theology. We might say that they were ivory tower theologians: They had lots to say in the classroom but were incompetent in the counselling room. One would assume they had never suffered and so their responses were simplistic and unhelpful. We know for certain they had never suffered like Job was suffering.

But we must also bear in mind that Job shared their theology. Job did not dispute their theological assumptions; he disputed their conclusions, for he knew he had not sinned as they claimed he had. That is why he was confused. We see this again in the text before us. We see here, as we will again in future studies, what happens when the prosperity gospel hits reality. We see the prosperity gospel hitting a dead end.

We will look at these three chapters under seven broad headings. This outline will hopefully offer some handles for you to grasp as you read through and work through the book of Job. You’ll need to hang on tight as we fly through these three chapters in this study!

1. Bildad’s Blast (8:1–7)
2. Bildad’s Belief (8:8–22)
3. Job’s Agreement (9:1–12)
4. Job’s Argument (9:13–24)
5. Job’s Agony (9:25–35)
6. Job’s Distressing Words (10:1–17)
7. Job’s Death Wish (10:18–22)

Bildad’s Blast

Bildad began his speech with a blast in 8:1–7:

Then Bildad the Shuhite answered and said: “How long will you say these things, and the words of your mouth be a great wind? Does God pervert justice? Or does the Almighty pervert the right? If your children have sinned against him, he has delivered them into the hand of their transgression. If you will seek God and plead with the Almighty for mercy, if you are pure and upright, surely then he will rouse himself for you and restore your rightful habitation. And though your beginning was small, your latter days will be very great.”

(Job 8:1–7)

Reading a biography of William McKinley, 25th president of the United States, I recently learned that his wife, Ida, suffered from seizures and other maladies from shortly after they were married. For several years, a physician treated her with various bromides in an attempt to heal her. It was discovered years later that these bromides actually contributed to her further physical demise. Only under the care of another physician did she regain a measure of health. I couldn’t help but think of that as I considered Bildad’s response to Job. His medicine was worse than the ailment. It actually made matters worse.

Bildad’s theological bromide was a heartless blast on a man already suffering under the blast of severe, intense, inexplicable affliction. His blunder was that he tried to explain the inexplicable.

Though Bildad accused Job of being a windbag (8:2), he was the actual windbag—a windbag who wounded with his heartless words (see 8:4–7). We can summarise that Bildad’s counsel was simplistic and satanic. He assumed the same accusatory position as Satan: “Job, serve God for the good you can get.” Alden summarises well: “There were and are exceptions to the neat theology of retribution that most people then and now subscribe to. The good sometimes die young. The wicked sometimes get away with murder.”

Bildad’s Belief

The remainder of Bildad’s speech reveals Bildad’s belief:

For enquire, please, of bygone ages, and consider what the fathers have searched out. For we are but of yesterday and know nothing, for our days on earth are a shadow. Will they not teach you and tell you and utter words out of their understanding?

 

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. Such are the paths of all who forget God; the hope of the godless shall perish. His confidence is severed, and his trust is a spider’s web. He leans against his house, but it does not stand; he lays hold of it, but it does not endure. He is a lush plant before the sun, and his shoots spread over his garden. His roots entwine the stone heap; he looks upon a house of stones. If he is destroyed from his place, then it will deny him, saying, “I have never seen you.” Behold, this is the joy of his way, and out of the soil others will spring.

 

Behold, God will not reject a blameless man, nor take the hand of evildoers. He will yet fill your mouth with laughter, and your lips with shouting. Those who hate you will be clothed with shame, and the tent of the wicked will be no more.

(Job 8:8–22)

Bildad relied upon and relayed the power of tradition to persuade Job to come clean, confess, and be restored to prosperity (8:8–10). He pointed to nature and the lessons of cause and effect, and reaping and sowing (8:11–19). He then concluded simplistically: “The blameful always and immediately suffer, and the blameless are always and immediately blessed” (8:20–22). As Gordis comments, “Bildad is a traditionalist who contributes little more to the discussion than a restatement of accepted views.”

Much of what Bildad said is true, but it was trite, tiresome, and only tormented Job in the end. Tradition, based on observation, can be good, but the full revelation of Scripture is better. When it comes to helping the afflicted, biblical exegesis is far more helpful than personal experience. The latter can illustrate, but never adequately replace, the former.

Mckenna bitingly observes, “Bildad must have closed his speech with the confidence that he has brought the final resolution of the Jobian question … and Job has no recourse except to repent or be wiped from the face of the earth. Thus speaks Bildad, the grand inquisitor of religious tradition.”

Job’s Agreement

Job’s response begins in chapter 9, where he initially agrees, generally speaking, with Bildad’s argument, while maintaining his innocence:

Then Job answered and said: “Truly I know that it is so: But how can a man be in the right before God? If one wished to contend with him, one could not answer him once in a thousand times. He is wise in heart and mighty in strength—who has hardened himself against him, and succeeded?—he who removes mountains, and they know it not, when he overturns them in his anger, who shakes the earth out of its place, and its pillars tremble; who commands the sun, and it does not rise; who seals up the stars; who alone stretched out the heavens and trampled the waves of the sea; who made the Bear and Orion, the Pleiades and the chambers of the south; who does great things beyond searching out, and marvellous things beyond number. Behold, he passes by me, and I see him not; he moves on, but I do not perceive him. Behold, he snatches away; who can turn him back? Who will say to him, ‘What are you doing?’

 

God will not turn back his anger; beneath him bowed the helpers of Rahab.

(Job 9:1–12)

To summarise this section, Job was saying: “I agree with the general principle of your traditional argument of theological retribution (9:1–2a). However, here is the problem: I am innocent of any transgression that would bring about such a storm in my life. Therefore, how can I possibly be on the right side of God? How do I get there? After all consider how great God is? As I contemplate his creation, including the constellations, I realise that it is futile for me to secure either an audience with him or an explanation from him (9:2b–12). As much as I desire to argue my case against him, it seems like I am under a divine restraining order; I cannot even get a trial (9:11–12).” Longman summarises: “Job is despairing of the possibility that he could convince God that he truly is righteous and undeserving of his present suffering” (Longman).

Even the powerful underworld is no match for God’s power. How then can Job ever be acquitted before God—though (he believed), he should be.

If all you have is a theology of retribution, and no theology of redemption (that is, a theology that allows for suffering in the life of the righteous as a means to advance the glory of God and his gospel), then life under affliction will seem pretty hopeless.

Job’s Argument

Job continues in 9:13–24 what he had commenced in the previous passage.

God will not turn back his anger; beneath him bowed the helpers of Rahab. How then can I answer him, choosing my words with him? Though I am in the right, I cannot answer him; I must appeal for mercy to my accuser. If I summoned him and he answered me, I would not believe that he was listening to my voice. For he crushes me with a tempest and multiplies my wounds without cause; he will not let me get my breath, but fills me with bitterness. If it is a contest of strength, behold, he is mighty! If it is a matter of justice, who can summon him? Though I am in the right, my own mouth would condemn me; though I am blameless, he would prove me perverse. I am blameless; I regard not myself; I loathe my life. It is all one; therefore I say, “He destroys both the blameless and the wicked.” When disaster brings sudden death, he mocks at the calamity of the innocent. The earth is given into the hand of the wicked; he covers the faces of its judges—if it is not he, who then is it?

(Job 9:13–24)

Job maintained his innocence and argued that he should have opportunity to defend himself. But God had not granted him that opportunity. God’s silence indicated he will not allow it. Job’s view of the compassion of God was waning—badly (9:14–18). He was in a desperate and hopeless frame of mind.

When this occurs, it often requires a lot of work to get out of it. In fact, when we begin to question God’s goodness and compassion, it is precisely then that we need God to reveal afresh his goodness and compassion.

In 9:19–24 Job was dangerously close to abandoning the God whom he felt had abandoned him. He doubted that God would even listen to him (9:16). He questioned God’s justice: “God seems unjust for, after all, I am blameless” (9:19–21).

Verses 22–24 sound like Asaph in Psalm 73 who, in his discouragement, asked why the wicked prospered as he questioned the wisdom of serving God. Like the writer of Ecclesiastes, Job had come to realise there are no guarantees for the righteous. Both the godly and the ungodly can have similar (and sometimes confusingly different) temporal outcomes. In the end, the believer rests in the fact that God does not change, even as our circumstances do.

Jesus, of course, modelled this attitude. Circumstances did not change between his lament of, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” and he exultation of, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” But he displayed an attitude of deep trust and rest in God as his loving Father.

Job’s Agony

The closing verses of chapter 9 highlight Job’s agony:

My days are swifter than a runner; they flee away; they see no good. They go by like skiffs of reed, like an eagle swooping on the prey. If I say, “I will forget my complaint, I will put off my sad face, and be of good cheer,” I become afraid of all my suffering, for I know you will not hold me innocent. I shall be condemned; why then do I labour in vain? If I wash myself with snow and cleanse my hands with lye, yet you will plunge me into a pit, and my own clothes will abhor me. For he is not a man, as I am, that I might answer him, that we should come to trial together. There is no arbiter between us, who might lay his hand on us both. Let him take his rod away from me, and let not dread of him terrify me. Then I would speak without fear of him, for I am not so in myself.

(Job 9:25–35)

Here, Job expressed his sense of futility and therefore the agony of living without hope of a better future. He expressed what we might characterise as the agony of defeat. Job “will be depressed so long as God treats him like a condemnedman” for, after all, “Job does not question God’s right to do it. But God’s reasons for his actions Job cannot detect” (Anderson). No wonder he was in agony.

Though Job had considered merely pulling up his socks and putting on a happy face, he realised this was futile (9:27–31), for he assumed that, before God, he would wipe away his joy because God would find him worthy of punishment.

That is, God is prosecutor, judge, jury, and executioner and Job was a hopeless defendant standing in the dock awaiting the verdict of condemnation. How can one smile (9:27) in such a situation?

This chapter concludes with the agonising assumption that Job had no arbiter—no qualified go-between, umpire, or referee—to bring God and Job into a hopeful settlement (9:33). Because there was no such arbiter, Job concluded, his only hope was for God to lay down his rod and to stop his terrifying affliction (9:34–35).

The Christian knows better! As bad as our affliction might be, we must put away erroneous assumptions that we are barred from access to God’s throne—a throne that, because of the person and work of Jesus Christ, is no longer a throne of terrifying judgement but rather a throne of grace (Hebrews 4:16). Let us come near (2:4)!

Job’s Distressing Words

As we move into chapter 10, Job’s mood was not improved, but he was at least speaking to  God rather than about God. We find some distressing words in 10:1–17:

I loathe my life; I will give free utterance to my complaint; I will speak in the bitterness of my soul. I will say to God, Do not condemn me; let me know why you contend against me. Does it seem good to you to oppress, to despise the work of your hands and favour the designs of the wicked? Have you eyes of flesh? Do you see as man sees? Are your days as the days of man, or your years as a man’s years, that you seek out my iniquity and search for my sin, although you know that I am not guilty, and there is none to deliver out of your hand? Your hands fashioned and made me, and now you have destroyed me altogether. Remember that you have made me like clay; and will you return me to the dust? Did you not pour me out like milk and curdle me like cheese? You clothed me with skin and flesh, and knit me together with bones and sinews. You have granted me life and steadfast love, and your care has preserved my spirit. Yet these things you hid in your heart; I know that this was your purpose. If I sin, you watch me and do not acquit me of my iniquity. 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. You renew your witnesses against me and increase your vexation toward me; you bring fresh troops against me.

(Job 10:1–17)

Job says that he “loathe[d] his life” (10:1). Such dejection reveals itself in “complaint” from “the bitterness of [his] soul” (10:2ff). In this chapter, we can agree with Alden that “all powerful, all knowing, and all present as God may be, Job found him invisible, intangible, and evasive….God’s ways went right past Job without his comprehending them.”

Job’s distressing words—to God—were grounded in his confusion as seen by him asking “Why?” (10:2). This is not the first time he had asked this (see chapters 3 and 7) and neither would it be the last. He wanted to know what he had done to bring about God’s contrary treatment of him. Because he was unaware of the conversation in the heavenly court (chapters 1–2), Job was deeply confused, and so he complained (10:1–3).

1. S. Lewis, in A Grief Observed, wrote: “Not that I am (I think) in much danger of ceasing to believe in God. The real danger is of coming to believe such dreadful things about him. The conclusion I dread is not ‘So there is no God after all,’ but ‘So this is what God’s really like. Deceive yourself no longer.’”

Unfortunately, Job hinted at a wrong conclusion; namely, that God may be more like mankind than Job thought, and hence God is unkind, if not unjust (10:4–7). Job seems to have dismissed this thought as soon as it occurred, and he contemplated God once again as his Creator (10:8–17). Yet his conclusions were neither flattering nor praiseworthy.

In essence, Job implied that God had formed him in the womb with great attention and with remarkable and even loving care (10:8–12). And yet, when Job was born, the Lord turned against him. It is as though God was pro-life before Job was born but anti-life afterwards. That is, after Job’s birth, the Lord watched him like a hawk to catch him in his sin so he could punish him (10:13–17). It is a terrible thought. Job, it seems, was accusing God of playing cat and mouse with him, or perhaps lion and mouse (10:16). I wonder if the words of 10:17 were perhaps aimed at Bildad and the others.

Before being too hard on Job, put yourself in his Scriptureless sandals. He was flying blind, as it were. We, however, have no such excuse.

Job’s Death Wish

Job completes his speech in response to Bildad with a death wish. As in chapter 3, Job wanted to die.

Why did you bring me out from the womb? Would that I had died before any eye had seen me and were as though I had not been, carried from the womb to the grave. Are not my days few? Then cease, and leave me alone, that I may find a little cheer before I go—and I shall not return—to the land of darkness and deep shadow, the land of gloom like thick darkness, like deep shadow without any order, where light is as thick darkness.

(Job 10:18–22)

Job assumed that death would be the end of his misery. In a sense, it would. Yet note that his death wish was an otherwise hopeless one. There is no concept in his lament of resurrection. Mere escape was on his mind. After all, since he felt that God was against him, he had little sense of being united with God in glory. As we have seen repeatedly, and as we will continue to see, Job seemingly had no gospel reference. His prosperity gospel—his theology of retribution—was the best he had. And so it is for those who neither know nor obey, in repentance and faith, the gospel of God.

The prosperity gospel is the kind of gospel of which Paul spoke in Galatians 1: a gospel of a different kind than the true gospel. The prosperity gospel is works- and man-centred, whereas the gospel of God is centred on God’s grace and focused on God’s glory. If you are trusting in any other than this true gospel, then, like Job, you will eventually be sorely disappointed when afflictions arise.

But if you believe the biblical gospel of forgiveness of sins through the perfect life, substitutionary death, and risen life of the Lord Jesus Christ, then, even amid intense and inexplicable suffering, you will be equipped to suffer wisely and well for God’s glory and your good.

Applications

Though some applications have been made along the way, consider three in closing.

First, be willing to question theological tradition.

Bildad assumed that the theological tradition passed down through the ages was truth. But, as we have seen, it was only partially true. We do well to heed the words of Gordis: “Bildad is a traditionalist who contributes little more to the discussion than a restatement of accepted views.” Be careful of merely repeating trite cliches. We who have God’s word should bring all traditions under its examining light. This brings us to the next application.

Second, embrace the truth that we are not in control.

The prosperity gospel is a proposed formula that puts outcomes under our control. If we do good, blessing pops out. If we do bad, hardship and suffering pop out. But Job teaches us that God, and not we, is in control.

Third, make sure the gospel informs your response to affliction. Job did not have what we have. We have far more light than he did. So, when others suffer, don’t be a Bildad and blast them. Rather, point them to the hope found in the gospel. And when you suffer, don’t be a Job who questions God’s justice. Rather, be like Jesus who, though he suffered, never lost sight of the goodness of the Father.

AMEN