Job 18
1 Then Bildad the Shuhite answered and said: 2 “How long will you hunt for words? Consider, and then we will speak. 3 Why are we counted as cattle? Why are we stupid in your sight? 4 You who tear yourself in your anger, shall the earth be forsaken for you, or the rock be removed out of its place? 5 “Indeed, the light of the wicked is put out, and the flame of his fire does not shine. 6 The light is dark in his tent, and his lamp above him is put out. 7 His strong steps are shortened, and his own schemes throw him down. 8 For he is cast into a net by his own feet, and he walks on its mesh. 9 A trap seizes him by the heel; a snare lays hold of him. 10 A rope is hidden for him in the ground, a trap for him in the path. 11 Terrors frighten him on every side, and chase him at his heels. 12 His strength is famished, and calamity is ready for his stumbling. 13 It consumes the parts of his skin; the firstborn of death consumes his limbs. 14 He is torn from the tent in which he trusted and is brought to the king of terrors. 15 In his tent dwells that which is none of his; sulfur is scattered over his habitation. 16 His roots dry up beneath, and his branches wither above. 17 His memory perishes from the earth, and he has no name in the street. 18 He is thrust from light into darkness, and driven out of the world. 19 He has no posterity or progeny among his people, and no survivor where he used to live. 20 They of the west are appalled at his day, and horror seizes them of the east. 21 Surely such are the dwellings of the unrighteous, such is the place of him who knows not God.”
Introduction
We have two stanzas of poetry here. The first stanza, verses 2-4, Bildad responds to Job. He responds as one whose feelings have been hurt by Job’s words in chapters 16-17, not least of which is when Job calls them “miserable comforters” in 16:1. Bildad responds, almost in anger. I am calling this the “oh yeah?” section. Verses 5-21 comprise a second and lengthy stanza wherein Bildad philosophizes on the position—as have all the friends so far—that it is the wicked, and by implication only the wicked, who suffer. This is the way the world works in his estimation. Let’s look a little deeper at these two stanzas.
1. Oh Yeah?
From the first verse of the stanza, it becomes clear that Bildad is not pleased with Job’s responses. “How long will you hunt for words? Consider, and then we will speak.” The sense of this is: ‘Are you going to keep talking? Why don’t you listen a little bit. Think about your lot in life and consider what we have to say.’ He goes on: “Why are we counted as cattle? Why are we stupid in your sight? You who tear yourself in your anger, shall the earth be forsaken for you, or the rock be removed out of its place?” It is as if his concern is for his reputation. Again, the sense of it is: ‘What? You think we’re stupid or something? We’re not. You’re the one who is trying to change the way the world works.’
And this is the crux of the matter.
Bildad has a position on the way that the world works and Job, in his estimation, is foolishly fighting against it. So, having challenged Job to shut up and listen, he launches into a somewhat lengthier stanza on the way of the world.
2. The Way the World Works
While this stanza is longer, Bildad’s point is quite simple. The wicked will not prosper. Rather, they will suffer. Verses 5-6: “Indeed, the light of the wicked is put out, and the flame of his fire does not shine. The light is dark in his tent, and his lamp above him is put out.”
The fate of the wicked is dark. And this end, in part, comes from the negative results of living as one who is wicked. In other words, the wicked man is culpable for his actions. Verses 7-8: “His strong steps are shortened, and his own schemes throw him down. For he is cast into a net by his own feet, and he walks on its mesh.” This makes sense. We can look at much wickedness and point to the negative results. Lying ultimately ends in the truth causing pain. Adultery ultimately ends in broken relationships. Alcohol abuse ultimately ends in tragedy. Greed, laziness, and all sorts of sin can and do visibly destroy the soul of mankind. Like an apple rotting from the inside—our wickedness has consequences. Or, as the great commentator on culture Thom Yorke of the band Radiohead once put it: “You do it to yourself, you do, and that’s what really hurts.”
The next eight verses (9-16) return to focusing on the fate of the wicked.
A trap seizes him by the heel;
a snare lays hold of him.
A rope is hidden for him in the ground,
a trap for him in the path.
Terrors frighten him on every side,
and chase him at his heels.
His strength is famished,
and calamity is ready for his stumbling.
It consumes the parts of his skin
the firstborn of death consumes his limbs.
He is torn from the tent in which he trusted
and is brought to the king of terrors.
In his tent dwells that which is none of his;
sulfur is scattered over his habitation.
His roots dry up beneath,
and his branches wither above.
Again, this seems fairly straight-forward. The wicked will receive calamity and death. Six different hunting implements are referenced in the first few verses. It is as though death and disease will hunt down the wicked man. And when death and disease find him, it is a grisly picture indeed. The muscles deteriorate. The skins rots away. Limbs fail and fall away. But even beyond the physical pain and looming demise, there is the abstract and ongoing value of a person’s contribution to life on this earth.
His memory perishes from the earth,
and he has no name in the street.
He is thrust from light into darkness,
and driven out of the world.
He has no posterity or progeny among his people,
and no survivor where he used to live.
They of the west are appalled at his day,
and horror seizes them of the east.
As a wicked man, not only will he die—as we all must someday die—but his memory will fade. And, in an impressively insensitive moment, Bildad notes that the wicked man loses his children and therefore any hope of being remembered. It is so spectacularly insensitive, of course, because Job has not only been struck with boils and lost his vast wealth, but all ten of his children were killed back in chapter 2 when a great wind caused the oldest son’s house to collapse. Bildad has, to use a cliché, kicked the man when he was down. It is no wonder that Job complains that his friends abuse him (6:14, 21, 12:4, 13:4). Verse 21:
Surely such are the dwellings of the unrighteous,
such is the place of him who knows not God.
Of course, this last reference is also insensitive. But, I think, we identify with Bildad’s observations. It is a sensible position. Isn’t it? This is every hero story. Every comic book. Every movie. When a particularly horrible villain does his horrible things—we root for his demise. It offends our sense of justice for the wicked man to get anything less. But of course, there is an important question here under the surface. Is it universal? Because Bildad’s point rests on it being universal. Bildad’s point is that Job is suffering just as the wicked must suffer. In fact, he is tactlessly specific in his descriptions of the fate of the wicked. His descriptions are implicit accusations against Job. ‘Job, you are faced with a such a horrible life, such a painful fate, because, obviously, you are wicked.’
Conclusion
This is the same assumption that the disciples make in John 9:1-3.
As he passed by, he saw a man blind from birth. And his disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him.
The man was blind from birth. Therefore, he or his parents must have sinned to cause his blindness. Something horrible has happened, therefore he must deserve it because somebody, somewhere along the way, did something wicked. It is a wonderful simple and seemingly just system that the disciples want. But of course, it is not just simple, but simplistic. Jesus immediately points out a third option. ‘It isn’t about whether he or his parents sinned. It is about this opportunity to demonstrate the works of God.’ And then Jesus spits in the dirt, rubs the mud in his eyes, tells him to go wash it out, and heals him.
Like Bildad, the disciples have no category, they see no possibility that a righteous man might suffer. And in fact, the disciples fail to see this in the critical moment—the turning point of the Gospel of Mark.
And he began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and the chief priests and the scribes and be killed, and after three days rise again. And he said this plainly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and seeing his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man.”
You see, Jesus is the Christ, the Messiah. And Peter had no category for a Messiah that would come and suffer and die. But this point. Our whole religion, our faith, the core of what we believe revolves around this point. A perfectly righteous man—the Christ, the Son of God, the only man who lived without sin—did need to suffer and die and on the third day rise again. Peter got corrected. And this is, I think, the lesson for us.
Are we the sort of people who draw simple conclusion about how suffering or prosperity are the consequences of wickedness or righteousness? It is so easy to fall into this trap. We think that if we pray and do good things, then God owes us one. It is so easy to pray this way. ‘Dear God, I am a pretty good guy, I read my Bible, I pray, I go to church. Fix my problems. Give me good things. Help me pass this test. Show me a good potential spouse. Get me a good job.’
And maybe we even assume that if we do evil things, we deserve to face bad consequences. ‘I was rude to my parents yesterday, so I deserve to get a cold. I deserve to stub my toe.’
It is so easy to draw these simplistic connections and believe Bildad here. The wicked should suffer and the righteous or innocent should prosper.
And in one sense, this is true. This may be the way the world seems to work and it may be the way we want it to work (though I think if we are honest about how evil each of us is, we don’t really want it to work this way). But in a much more important sense, this is NOT the way the God works. This is the beautiful mystery of what we are about to celebrate in the table. And it is the best proof that Bildad is just wrong. A righteous man named Jesus Christ suffered without deserving it on our behalf so that we, the wicked, would not have to face the ultimate suffering we deserve. This is the gospel.
Let’s pray. Heavenly Father, thank you for your Son, that in his death, you have reversed our fortunes—pouring on him the wrath we deserve, and blessing us as though we had his righteousness. Help us to live with truth on our minds and in our hearts—that we may learn to love and seek your will to your glory. We pray this in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.