Commentary - Job 6:14-23

Bird's-eye view

In this section of his reply to Eliphaz, Job pivots from describing the weight of his own suffering to leveling a direct and poignant accusation against his friends. He is not just in pain; he is profoundly disappointed and feels betrayed. The central metaphor here is that of the deceitful wadi, a desert stream that flows strong when water is plentiful but vanishes in the heat of summer, just when thirsty travelers need it most. Job accuses his friends of being just like this wadi, offering the appearance of comfort but providing nothing of substance in his moment of greatest need. He argues that their failure is rooted in fear; they see his calamity and are afraid, and this fear has choked out their compassion. He concludes by clarifying that he never asked for their material help, but rather for the steadfast loyalty and kindness that defines true friendship.

This passage is a powerful meditation on the nature of friendship, betrayal, and the difference between fair-weather comfort and genuine, godly lovingkindness. Job exposes the hollow core of a piety that is more concerned with maintaining theological tidiness than with ministering to a soul in agony. His friends have failed the fundamental test of friendship because, as Job says, they have forsaken the fear of the Almighty, which is the necessary foundation for all true loyalty and compassion.

Outline

Context In Job

This passage is part of Job's first response to his friends, specifically following the initial speech of Eliphaz the Temanite (Job 4-5). Eliphaz had offered a classic, if somewhat detached, articulation of the principle of retributive justice: the righteous prosper and the wicked suffer. The implication, of course, was that Job's immense suffering must be linked to some hidden sin. Job begins his reply in chapter 6 by describing the unbearable weight of his grief (6:1-13), wishing for death as a release. Having established the depth of his despair, he now turns his full attention to the men sitting before him. This section (6:14-23) is the heart of his counter-charge. He is not just defending his own integrity; he is prosecuting his friends for their failure to be friends.

Clause-by-Clause Commentary

v. 14 For the despairing man lovingkindness should be from his friend; But he forsakes the fear of the Almighty.

Job begins with a foundational principle of godly friendship. The word for lovingkindness is hesed, that covenantal loyalty and steadfast love that is so characteristic of God Himself. This is what a man in despair needs. Not neat theological formulas, not suspicion, but loyal love. Job then delivers the stinging reason for their failure: they have forsaken the fear of the Almighty. True compassion for a suffering brother is not rooted in mere sentimentality; it is rooted in a right understanding of and reverence for God. Because they do not rightly fear God, who is sovereign over Job's calamity, they cannot show right kindness to Job. Their fear is misplaced; they fear Job's condition, they fear its implications for their worldview, but they do not fear God.

v. 15 My brothers have betrayed me like a wadi, Like the torrents of wadis which pass away,

Here Job introduces his central metaphor. He calls them "brothers," which makes the betrayal all the sharper. They have been treacherous, deceitful. A wadi is a desert streambed that is roaring with water after the rains but bone dry in the summer. The betrayal lies in the promise that is not kept. The friends showed up, looking like a torrent of comfort, but their substance has already passed away, leaving nothing behind.

v. 16 Which grow dark because of ice And upon which the snow hides itself.

Job elaborates on the initial promise of the wadi. In the cold season, it is dark and churning with melted ice and snow. It looks impressive, powerful, and full of life-giving water. This is a picture of his friends when they first arrived, sitting with him in silence for seven days. They appeared to be a deep reservoir of sympathy and wisdom. The snow "hides itself" in the water, suggesting a depth that is not actually there.

v. 17 When they become waterless, they are silent; When it is hot, they vanish from their place.

This is the turning point. The promise evaporates. When the season changes and the heat comes, the impressive torrent vanishes. The heat represents Job's fiery trial, the true test of their friendship. And under that heat, their comfort has disappeared. They are "silent" in the sense of offering no real water, no true refreshment. They have vanished from their place as a source of help, even though they are still sitting right there.

v. 18 The paths of their course wind along; They go up into a formless place and perish.

The metaphor continues with striking imagery. The once-mighty stream dissipates into nothing. Its course just sort of peters out, going up into the wasteland and simply ceasing to exist. This is what their counsel is doing. It is not leading to a place of life or resolution. It is meandering into a formless void of useless theology and perishing there. It offers no direction, no destination, no life.

v. 19 The caravans of Tema looked; The travelers of Sheba hoped for them.

Now Job introduces the victims of this deceitful stream: the travelers. Tema and Sheba were regions in Arabia known for their caravans. These are seasoned, experienced travelers who know where to look for water. They arrive at the wadi with expectation, with hope. This is Job. He looked to his friends, men known for their wisdom, and he hoped for refreshment for his soul.

v. 20 They were ashamed for they had trusted; They came there and were humiliated.

The hope of the travelers is dashed. The result is not just disappointment, but shame and humiliation. There is a profound shame that comes from having placed your trust in something that proves utterly worthless. Job is saying to his friends, "I trusted you, and your failure has brought me to shame." He came to them for water and was handed a mouthful of sand. The humiliation is public; he is a spectacle of suffering, and his friends, his last hope for human comfort, have failed him before God and the world.

v. 21 Indeed, you have now become such; You see a terror and are afraid.

Job drops the metaphor and applies it directly. "You have now become such," or as some translate, "you have become nothing." You are that dry wadi. And here is the reason why: "You see a terror and are afraid." The "terror" is Job's catastrophic suffering. They look at him, and they are not moved with compassion, but with fear. They are afraid that what happened to him could happen to them. They are afraid that their neat theological system cannot account for this. Their fear for themselves has murdered their love for their friend.

v. 22 Have I said, ‘Give me something,’ Or, ‘Offer a bribe for me from your wealth,’

Job now defends himself against what he perceives as their unspoken suspicion. Perhaps they think his lament is just a sophisticated form of begging. He makes it plain: this is not about money. He has not asked for a gift or a bribe to be paid on his behalf. He is stripping away all their false assumptions. His need is not financial.

v. 23 Or, ‘Give me escape from the hand of the adversary,’ Or, ‘Redeem me from the hand of the ruthless men’?

Nor is his need a physical rescue. He is not asking them to form a posse and deliver him from an enemy or to pay a ransom to get him out of trouble. His problem is with God, and he knows these men cannot solve that. By stating what he has not asked for, he highlights what he is asking for: hesed, lovingkindness. He wants a friend for his soul, not a benefactor for his estate or a bodyguard for his person. Their failure is a failure of fellowship, not a failure of finance or force.

Application

This passage forces us to look in the mirror and ask what kind of friend we are. When a brother or sister is engulfed in a fiery trial, do we bring the living water of the gospel, or do we show up as a deceitful wadi? It is easy to have the appearance of a torrent, full of Bible verses and pious expressions, when there is no heat. The real test comes when things get messy, when the suffering is raw and inexplicable, when pat answers perish in the wilderness.

Job tells us that the root of his friends' failure was that they forsook the fear of the Almighty. They were more afraid of the implications of Job's suffering than they were of the God who sovereignly ordained it. True comfort flows from a heart that trembles before God. Such a heart is free to love the sufferer without demanding that the suffering fit into a neat little box. It can sit in the ashes with a friend and offer steadfast loyalty, even when it has no answers.

Ultimately, the deceitful wadi of human friendship points us to the one true source of living water, the Lord Jesus Christ. He is the friend who sticks closer than a brother. He entered into our terror, our ultimate calamity of sin and death, and He was not afraid. He drank the cup of God's wrath for us. When we come to Him, thirsty and ashamed, He never turns us away. He is the fountain of living waters, and those who trust in Him will never be put to shame.