The Righteous Man's Foundation Text: Job 1:1-5
Introduction: The Unasked Question
We live in a soft age, an age that has forgotten what it means to be tested. Our therapeutic culture treats all suffering as an anomaly, a problem to be managed, medicated, or explained away. When tragedy strikes, the modern man's first question is "Why did this happen to me?" But this is the wrong question, born of a deep-seated entitlement. The biblical man, the man who fears God, asks a different question entirely. He asks, "What does God require of me in this?" The book of Job is not, first and foremost, a philosophical treatise on the problem of evil. It is a revelation of the staggering sovereignty of God and the nature of true faith that stands firm when all earthly props have been kicked out from under it.
Before we can understand the storm, the whirlwind, and the voice of God from that whirlwind, we must first understand the man who stood in the center of it. We must examine the foundation before the earthquake hits. The modern world wants to skip this part. It wants to see Job as a generic "good person" to whom bad things happened, making him a poster child for cosmic injustice. But the Holy Spirit is painstaking in these first five verses to establish the exact opposite. The power of this story, the entire theological weight of it, rests on the fact that Job was not just a decent fellow. He was, by God's own standard, a righteous man. If we flatten his character, we flatten the entire book into a sentimental Hallmark card, which it most certainly is not.
This is not a parable. This is history. Job was a real man, who lived in a real place, who had real children and real wealth, and who underwent a real and terrible trial. To treat this as allegory is to blunt the edge of the sword. The question before us is not whether a righteous man can suffer, but rather what true righteousness looks like, both in the sunshine of God's blessing and in the crucible of His mysterious providence. These first verses are the "before" picture, and we must study them carefully, for they show us the man God held up to Satan as His finest servant on earth.
The Text
There was a man in the land of Uz whose name was Job; and that man was blameless, upright, fearing God, and turning away from evil.
Seven sons and three daughters were born to him.
His possessions also were 7,000 sheep, 3,000 camels, 500 pairs of oxen, 500 female donkeys, and very many servants; and that man was the greatest of all the sons of the east.
His sons used to go and hold a feast in the house of each one on his day, and they would send and invite their three sisters to eat and drink with them.
Now it happened when the days of feasting had completed their cycle, that Job would send and set them apart as holy. And he would rise up early in the morning and offer burnt offerings according to the number of them all; for Job said, “Perhaps my sons have sinned and cursed God in their hearts.” Thus Job did continually.
(Job 1:1-5 LSB)
A Four-Fold Righteousness (v. 1)
The Spirit begins by giving us Job's resume, his spiritual curriculum vitae.
"There was a man in the land of Uz whose name was Job; and that man was blameless, upright, fearing God, and turning away from evil." (Job 1:1)
First, he is grounded in history. "A man in the land of Uz." This is not "once upon a time." This is a man who had a mailing address. The historicity matters. Second, we are given a four-stranded description of his character, a cord not easily broken.
He was "blameless." The Hebrew is tam. This does not mean he was sinless. Only one man has ever been that. It means he was whole, complete, a man of integrity. There was no hypocrisy in him. The man you saw in public was the same man who prayed in private. He was sound, solid all the way through.
He was "upright." The Hebrew is yashar, which means straight. He was not crooked in his dealings. He did not cut corners. He walked a straight path. His life was aligned with the straight edge of God's law. This is practical, everyday righteousness. It is honesty in business, faithfulness in marriage, justice in leadership.
These first two qualities flow from the third, which is the source of his character: he was one who was "fearing God." This is not the servile fear of a slave before a tyrant. This is the reverential, awe-filled submission of a creature before his magnificent Creator. It is the beginning of all wisdom, the foundational orientation of a soul that knows its place in the universe. Job understood the Creator/creature distinction. He knew God was God and he was not. This fear is what produced his integrity and his uprightness.
And the fourth strand is the active outworking of the third: "turning away from evil." This is not a passive avoidance. The Hebrew is sur, to depart from, to repudiate. Job made a conscious, continuous decision to turn his back on wickedness. Righteousness is not just about what you do; it is also about what you refuse to do. It is repentance as a lifestyle. This is the man. This is the foundation. God Himself will co-sign this assessment in the next scene. The entire drama depends on us accepting this testimony. Job's righteousness was real.
A Ten-Fold Blessing (v. 2-3)
Next, the text describes the fruit of this righteousness, the tangible evidence of God's favor upon him.
"Seven sons and three daughters were born to him. His possessions also were 7,000 sheep, 3,000 camels, 500 pairs of oxen, 500 female donkeys, and very many servants; and that man was the greatest of all the sons of the east." (Job 1:2-3 LSB)
Notice the numbers. Seven sons and three daughters make ten children, a number of completion. This is a full quiver, a patriarchal crown. In the old covenant, a large family was an unambiguous sign of God's blessing. Job was a man whose legacy was walking around his house. God had built him a house.
And his material wealth was staggering. This was not the abstract wealth of a stock portfolio; this was real, tangible, productive capital. Sheep for wool and meat, camels for trade and transport, oxen for plowing the fields, donkeys for work. This was a massive enterprise. This was old covenant blessing in its fullness. We must resist any gnostic impulse to spiritualize this away. God is not allergic to blessing His people with material substance. He made the material world and called it good. Job's wealth was not a sign of worldliness; it was a sign of God's favor on a righteous man.
The summary statement is that he was "the greatest of all the sons of the east." His reputation was as large as his herds. He was a great man, a chieftain, whose wisdom and stature were known throughout the region. His righteousness was not a private, hidden affair. It had resulted in a public, manifest glory. This is the pinnacle. This is the man on top of the mountain. And it is from this height that he will be thrown down.
A Priestly Father (v. 4-5)
These final verses give us the most intimate look into Job's character. We see him not just as a great man, but as a godly father.
"His sons used to go and hold a feast... Now it happened when the days of feasting had completed their cycle, that Job would send and set them apart as holy... and offer burnt offerings according to the number of them all; for Job said, 'Perhaps my sons have sinned and cursed God in their hearts.' Thus Job did continually." (Job 1:4-5 LSB)
The first thing to see is the health of his family. His children loved one another. They feasted together, celebrating in turn. This is a picture of shalom. This is the fruit of a well-ordered, godly household. Their prosperity had not ruined them; it was an occasion for joy and fellowship.
But Job's eye is sharper. He is the patriarch, and he understands his duty as the family priest. His work is not done when the feasting is over. In fact, that is when his most important work begins. He rises early in the morning, the mark of a diligent man, to intercede for his children. He offers a burnt offering for each of them, ten in all. He is their federal head, standing in the gap for them before God.
And what is his concern? It is breathtaking in its spiritual depth. "Perhaps my sons have sinned and cursed God in their hearts." He is not worried about some gross, public scandal. He is worried about sins of the heart. The word "cursed" here is actually "blessed." It is a euphemism. The idea is that in their feasting and merriment, they might have become flippant, forgetting the Giver of the gifts. They might have "blessed" God in a trivial, dismissive way, which in the heart is a form of cursing. Job knew that all sin begins in the heart, with a failure of fear and gratitude. He was guarding the hearts of his children before the throne of God.
And this was his constant practice. "Thus Job did continually." This was the rhythm of his piety. His righteousness was not a mood; it was a discipline. He was a vigilant priest over his house. This is the biblical pattern of fatherhood. A father is to be the protector, provider, and priest of his home. Job excelled in all three.
Conclusion: The Man God Chose
So this is the man. Blameless in his integrity, upright in his dealings, rooted in the fear of God, and active in his repentance. He was a man blessed with a full family and vast wealth, the greatest man in his part of the world. And he was a faithful priest, jealously guarding the spiritual well-being of his children.
This is the foundation that is about to be shaken to its core. The Accuser will argue that this entire structure is a fraud. He will claim that Job's piety is nothing more than a transaction, a business deal with God. "Does Job fear God for no reason?" Satan asks. "You have blessed him. Take it all away, and he will curse you to your face."
The entire book is God's answer to that charge. God is so confident in the reality of the righteousness He has worked in His servant that He allows the devil to do his worst. God is vindicated in Job, and Job is vindicated in God. Job, the righteous sufferer, is a shadow, a type of the ultimate righteous sufferer to come. Jesus Christ, the truly blameless one, would be stripped of everything, not for sins He might have committed in His heart, but for the sins we committed in ours. He became the final burnt offering.
The lesson for us is plain. We are called to this kind of foundational righteousness. We are called to integrity, to fear God, and to turn from evil. Fathers, you are called to be the priest of your home. But we must also know that our righteousness, even at its best, is flawed. When the storms of this life come, and they will, our only ultimate hope is not in our own Job-like character, but in the unshakable, perfect righteousness of Jesus Christ, which is ours by faith alone. He is the foundation that can never be moved.