Job CCXL

 Sometimes you wish there were a few more adverbs scattered throughout scripture, not because the Word itself or its meaning is difficult to understand, but because they would add a whole new layer of comprehension as to what the individual was feeling at the moment. It would make the heart of certain dialogues and monologues a lot easier to appreciate. Eliphaz’s words to Job were just such a case, where an adverb at the end of his question of whether it was because Job feared God that He corrected him and entered into judgment with him would reveal whether he was getting close to seeing the heart of the matter or was still miles away from recognizing what was happening.

Whether asked sarcastically, condescendingly, introspectively, or inquiringly, we will never know, but given that his follow-up question was “is not your wickedness great, and your iniquity without end”, it’s unlikely that Eliphaz had experienced a moment of epiphany and discernment.

That’s the thing about the Bible: it’s not a novel, and it shouldn’t be read like one. It is the Word of the living God, and as such, adverbs are in short supply because rarely does knowing that someone was sulking, sad, angry, joyful, boisterous, or sarcastic add to the narrative.

Nowadays, we elevate feelings and emotions to such lofty heights as to conclude that they outweigh what the Word of God has to say on a particular topic. The Word of God will always be superior, regardless of the situation or issue. Our duty is obedience and adherence to the Word of God, not trying to explain to the Almighty why we feel what He is asking of us isn’t fair, or that we have a different angle we would encourage Him to pursue. You’re not that smart; I’m not that smart, not by a long shot, and if God has made the way clear, if His Word declares a thing, then whatever it declares is absolute.

A heart not wholly surrendered will always look for wiggle room, exemptions, or worst of all, feel entitled to taking liberties with sin because they hold a certain office or position. To whom much is given, much is required; it’s what the Book says. To allow the flesh to twist it to the point that one comes to believe that the more they are given, the less is required of them isn’t just foolhardy and dangerous, it’s treasonous and criminal.

Eliphaz had not changed his mind on why he believed Job was suffering. He had not been swayed by his friend’s words, nor was he allowing for a different explanation. He was doubling down, and what’s worse, he was making up an entire backstory to justify his position and explain why Job was getting exactly what he deserved.

Job 22:6-11, “For you have taken pledges from your brother for no reason, and stripped the naked of their clothing. You have not given the weary water to drink, and you have withheld bread from the hungry. But the mighty man possessed the land, and the honorable man dwelt in it. You have sent widows away empty, and the strength of the fatherless was crushed. Therefore snares are all around you, and sudden fear troubles you, or darkness so that you cannot see; and an abundance of water covers you.”

If any of the accusations Eliphaz leveled against Job were true, then he was neither blameless nor upright, nor did he fear God and shun evil. What Eliphaz was describing was a man with a heart of stone who would not give the weary water to drink, who would withhold bread from the hungry, who would send widows away empty, and crush the strength of the fatherless.

At this juncture, we must determine that only one of the two could be right in their assessment of Job. Either God was wrong in calling him a blameless and upright man, or Eliphaz was wrong in accusing Job of being what amounts to a monster in human flesh who stripped the naked of their clothing, and sent the hungry away while his larders were full.

Given that man can often be wrong but God never is, I know whose report I would believe, and it’s not Eliphaz’s.

This is what happens when we get into our own heads and don’t allow for spiritual discernment to deter us from following the rabbit trail we’ve happened upon to its rightful end. Three men traveled a long way to comfort their friend in his time of trial, and ended up accusing him of cruelty, sin, and wickedness. If anything Eliphaz had said about Job was true, then Job was a tyrant, and there was no fear of God in him. All three men had known Job long enough to call him a friend, to see his character and devotion to God, yet their preconceptions and reasoning about why they believed he was suffering had brought them to this place of utter callousness.

You know me. You know I would never turn away the hungry or refuse to give water to the thirsty. You know I’ve always helped the poor and have comforted those who were hurting!

We thought we did, we thought we knew you, but then again, would you be in this predicament if you were truly the righteous man you pretended to be?

If their back and forth had ever been about getting to the truth, by this point, it ceased to be. Eliphaz needed to be right, even if he had to make up falsehoods regarding Job’s character to do so. In his heart of hearts, he likely knew Job was not the man he portrayed him to be; he knew Job had never shunned the hungry or the thirsty, or exploited the widow and the orphan, but the all-consuming desire to be right made all of those things irrelevant.

If being right comes at the expense of the truth, if the truth must be left to bleed in the street to satisfy your ego, you’re already in the wrong. You’ve already lost. Whatever victory you think may be had by sacrificing the truth will be a pyrrhic one at best. Truth must be the ideal, the purpose, the goal, even if it requires admitting and acknowledging that we were wrong. For some, that’s one bridge too far, and so they begin to unravel in real time, making up stories in their own heads which they eventually verbalize and insist upon as truth.     

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.