Job CLX

 Any honest, objective analysis of Job’s words would rightly conclude that they were not unprofitable words but wisdom layered upon wisdom, revealing timeless truths that would echo throughout the entirety of human history. Yet, here were Job’s friends who insisted that it was just unprofitable talk and speeches with which he could do no good.

You’re just trying to defend yourself! But isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when accusations are brought against you? Yes, usually, it’s innocent until proven guilty, but not so in the eyes of Job’s friends. Not only had they concluded he was guilty of sin, but any defense he mounted, any evidence he proffered proving his innocence, was summarily dismissed, and a new barrage of accusations streamed forth unbidden.

Yes, we’ve accused you of sin so foul as to warrant being covered in painful boils and worms, but don’t you dare try to prove your innocence or insist that we are wrong in our assessment. That just proves our point, doesn’t it?

There have been moments in life when someone you’ve known for years says something so out of pocket and something so inconsistent with their character that it takes you aback, and you wonder where it’s coming from. It’s either that they’ve been building up resentment in their heart for long and long, and they’ve finally found an outlet for it, or they are being influenced by something or someone that is warping their reality to such a degree that they’re making up stories out of whole cloth to bolster their conclusions.

How had Job’s iniquity taught his mouth if God had found no iniquity in him? How had he cast off fear, and restrained prayer before God? How had Job’s own mouth condemned him, and his lips testified against him when all he’d done was cry out to God for understanding, yearning to know if he'd sinned before Him so that he might repent and repair the rift his friends insisted had been caused by his sin.

There was no evidence to Eliphaz’s claims, just as there was none to Zophar’s or Bildad’s, but that didn’t seem to concern Job’s three friends. They knew what they knew, and they wouldn’t let the truth or any evidence that they were wrong and misguided shake their resolve.

All his pleading, all his introspection, all the grief that he’d poured out in his words had gone over his friends’ heads, and no matter how much he insisted upon his innocence, they would not be swayed.

Job 15:7-10, “Are you the first man who was born? Or were you made before the hills? Have you heard the counsel of God? Do you limit wisdom to yourself? What do you know that we do not know? What do you understand that is not in us? Both the gray-haired and the aged are among us, much older than your father.”

If you’ve ever been in a similar situation, you can empathize with the frustration Job was likely feeling. You know the type of situation I’m referring to, the one where you pour your heart out, talk and talk until your throat is raw, then realize the person you were talking to and confiding in wasn’t really listening because they’d made up their mind about your situation two sentences in. They were hearing you, but they were not listening to you. They understood the words you were speaking, but failed to process them in any meaningful way.

Whatever they’d concluded at the onset was set in stone, and nothing you could say, no evidence you could bring forth, would sway them because in their minds, they’re always right, and to admit they weren’t would be more injurious to their pride than the actual pain you were going through was to you.

By the wording of Eliphaz’s monologue, it's likely he was the oldest among Job’s friends. He refers to the gray-haired among them, pointing out that at least one of them was much older than Job’s own father. I find it unrealistic for Eliphaz to go out of his way to conjoin the idea of gray hair and wisdom on behalf of another if he were not referring to himself, and trying to suggest that he was right simply because he was old.

Granted, Solomon would later write that while the glory of young men is their strength, the splendor of old men is their gray head, but he said nothing about wisdom or understanding directly correlating to them. Just because someone is older, it doesn’t make them right. Just because they have gray hair, they don’t automatically win the argument, nor are we to presume that their wisdom is directly related to graying follicles, and as such, they must be smart because they look like a tired mall Santa.

If I were to grow my hair out, it would be gray. I know this because my beard leans more towards being white than it does black. Even so, I would not assume I’m right about anything simply because I’m getting old.

I’ve heard some very foolish things spill out of the mouths of old folks. Conversely, I’ve also listened to some great wisdom flow forth from their lips. It all depends on the situation.

The issue I have with Eliphaz is that he assumed his gray hairs made him right by virtue of their very existence. There was an arrogance and sanctimony to his words that wouldn’t sit right with me, even if we weren’t privy to the backstory of why Job was allowed to endure all that he endured.

If you had a lifelong friend who knew you, your character, your commitment, and your faithfulness, and suddenly all that went out the window, forgotten, dismissed, and ignored, you’d feel some kind of way about it, too.

Job was not a stranger to Eliphaz. He didn’t run into him sitting in an ash heap, scratching at himself with a potsherd as he was running errands. He’d known him for what seemed like decades, had broken bread with him, and at first felt enough for his friend’s suffering as to make the trek and come to see him. Then, after days of silence, something shifted, and all three of Job’s friends became his accusers, insisting he had sinned, he had angered God, and as such, his situation was warranted, and nothing he could say in his defense would change their minds.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.