Commentary - Job 15:17-35

Bird's-eye view

In this section of Job, Eliphaz the Temanite takes the floor for the second time, and his tone has hardened considerably. His first speech had a certain pastoral, albeit mistaken, gentleness. But now, provoked by Job’s steadfast refusal to accept the friends’ tidy theological system, Eliphaz unleashes a torrent of traditional wisdom painting a grim and detailed portrait of the wicked man’s fate. This is not a dispassionate theological lecture; it is a thinly veiled, full-frontal assault on Job himself. Every brushstroke in this dark masterpiece is intended to depict Job’s own character and destiny as Eliphaz sees it. The core of his argument is a rigid, unyielding application of the retribution principle: the wicked always suffer, and their suffering is a direct and immediate consequence of their sin. He appeals to ancient, received wisdom, passed down from the fathers, as the unassailable basis for his claims.

Eliphaz describes the wicked man as one who lives in constant torment, paranoia, and dread. His prosperity is a sham, his security an illusion, and his end is certain ruin. He is a man who has arrogantly defied God, and the consequences are playing out in every area of his life, from his physical health to his financial ruin to his family line. The speech is a powerful piece of poetry, but it is a tragic misapplication of truth. While it is certainly true that wickedness leads to destruction, Eliphaz is blind to the larger drama unfolding in the heavenly court. He cannot conceive of righteous suffering, and so he weaponizes true principles against a righteous man, becoming an accuser in the very place he intended to be a comforter.

Outline

Context In Job

This speech by Eliphaz is the opening salvo in the second cycle of dialogues between Job and his three friends. The first cycle (chapters 4-14) ended with Job’s lament and his desperate appeal to God, expressing a flicker of hope in a redeemer while still maintaining his innocence. Job has systematically dismantled the friends' initial arguments. They came to comfort, but their comfort was conditioned on Job’s confession of some secret, heinous sin. Because Job refuses to lie and confess to something he did not do, their patience has run out. Eliphaz, as the eldest and likely the most respected, now drops all pretense of sympathy. He directly accuses Job of being a windbag (15:2) and a fool (15:8-9). The speech that follows in our text is the substance of his accusation. It is a detailed exposition of the "wisdom" that proves, in Eliphaz's mind, that Job must be a wicked man. This sets the stage for the increasingly harsh and accusatory tone of the subsequent speeches from Bildad and Zophar.

Key Issues

Theology in a Blender

Eliphaz is a man who knows many true things. The problem is that he doesn't know what to do with them. He has a bag full of theological truths, but he applies them with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. It is true that God opposes the proud. It is true that a life of rebellion against the Almighty leads to ruin. It is true that ill-gotten gain will not endure. The Proverbs are full of this kind of wisdom, and it is God-breathed wisdom. But wisdom is not just knowing the proverbs; it is knowing how and when to apply them. Eliphaz's mistake, and the mistake of his friends, is what we might call affirming the consequent. The Bible teaches that if you are wicked, you will suffer (A implies B). Eliphaz sees Job suffering, and therefore concludes that he must be wicked (B implies A). This is a logical fallacy, and in this context, it is a pastoral and spiritual catastrophe.

The book of Job is in the canon precisely to guard the church against this kind of flat-footed, simplistic, cause-and-effect theology. Yes, sin has consequences. But not all suffering is a direct consequence of a specific sin. Sometimes God has other purposes, purposes that are hidden from us, purposes that have to do with His cosmic war against Satan and His desire to glorify His name through the steadfast faith of His servants. Eliphaz has no category for this. He has his system, his tradition, and he is determined to cram Job into it, no matter how much it hurts.

Verse by Verse Commentary

17-19 “I will tell you, listen to me; And what I have beheld I will also recount; What wise men have told, And have not concealed from their fathers, To whom alone the land was given, And no stranger passed among them.

Eliphaz begins with an appeal to authority. He is about to lay down the law, and he wants Job to know that this isn't just his personal opinion. This is ancient, pure, unadulterated wisdom. He claims two sources for it: his own personal observation ("what I have beheld") and, more importantly, the received tradition of the "wise men." He adds a crucial detail about this tradition: it comes from a time when "the land was given" to their forefathers alone, and "no stranger passed among them." This is a claim of doctrinal purity. He is saying this wisdom is not contaminated by foreign, pagan ideas. It is the original, uncorrupted truth of their people. This is a classic conservative argument, and there is nothing wrong with it in principle. We should honor the wisdom of our fathers. But tradition can become a tyrant when it is elevated to the level of Scripture and used to shut down difficult questions, which is exactly what Eliphaz is doing here.

20-21 The wicked man writhes in pain all his days, And numbered are the years stored up for the ruthless. Sounds of dread are in his ears; While at peace the destroyer comes upon him.

Here begins the portrait of the wicked man, and every word is aimed at Job. The first characteristic is constant, internal torment. Even when things seem to be going well on the outside, the wicked man is "writhing in pain" on the inside. His life is one of perpetual anxiety. He lives with "sounds of dread" in his ears, a constant paranoia. He can never relax, because even in a time of apparent peace, he expects the "destroyer" to fall upon him at any moment. This is a profound psychological insight into the nature of a guilty conscience. A man who is at war with God can never truly be at peace with himself or his circumstances. Eliphaz is essentially telling Job, "Your outward calamities are just a reflection of the inner turmoil you must have been hiding for years."

22-23 He does not believe that he will return from darkness, And he is destined for the sword. He wanders about for food, saying, ‘Where is it?’ He knows that a day of darkness is ready at his hand.

The internal dread leads to a profound hopelessness. The wicked man has no hope of deliverance. He sees only "darkness" ahead, a future "destined for the sword." Eliphaz paints a picture of a man reduced to a state of desperate poverty, wandering about begging for bread. This would have been a particularly sharp jab at Job, who had been the wealthiest man in the east and was now destitute. The wicked man is not just afflicted; he is actively aware that his doom is imminent. He "knows that a day of darkness is ready at his hand." There is no escape, and he knows it. This is not just suffering; it is conscious, anticipated judgment.

24 Distress and anguish terrify him; They overpower him like a king ready for the attack,

Eliphaz personifies "distress and anguish" as an invading army. They don't just trouble the wicked man; they "terrify" and "overpower" him. The image is of a king leading a disciplined, prepared army into battle. The assault is not random or haphazard; it is strategic, overwhelming, and unstoppable. The wicked man is utterly helpless before this onslaught of internal and external misery. Again, the message to Job is clear: "The troubles you are facing are not an accident. They are a calculated, sovereign assault, and you are being conquered by them because you are an enemy of the king."

25-26 Because he has stretched out his hand against God And magnifies himself against the Almighty. He rushes headlong at Him With his massive shield.

Now Eliphaz gets to the root cause of all this misery: active, arrogant rebellion against God. This is the sin that undergirds all other sins. The wicked man has "stretched out his hand against God," a gesture of defiance and rebellion. He "magnifies himself against the Almighty," setting himself up as God's equal or superior. The imagery here is astonishing. Eliphaz pictures this man as a warrior charging into battle against God Himself. He "rushes headlong" at God, brandishing his "massive shield." This is the height of created folly, a creature taking up arms against his Creator. It is a suicide mission. And by describing it this way, Eliphaz is accusing Job of precisely this kind of cosmic treason. He interprets Job's protestations of innocence as an attack on God's justice and therefore an attack on God Himself.

27-28 For he has covered his face with his fat And made his thighs heavy with flesh. He has dwelt in desolate cities, In houses no one would inhabit, Which are destined to become ruins.

The rebellion against God is fueled by a life of arrogant self-indulgence. The fat on his face and thighs is not a sign of blessing, but of gluttony and decadent pride. He has grown fat and prosperous, and it has made him feel secure and independent of God. His dwelling place reflects his character. He lives in "desolate cities," places that have been cursed or judged, showing his contempt for God's law and order. He occupies houses that are already "destined to become ruins," indicating that his entire enterprise is built on a foundation of sand, doomed from the start. He is a man who embraces the curse.

29-30 He will not become rich, nor will his wealth endure; And his grain will not stretch out over theland. He will not be able to depart from darkness; The flame will wither his shoots, And by the breath of His mouth he will depart.

Here Eliphaz describes the inevitable collapse of the wicked man's prosperity. Whatever wealth he accumulates will be temporary. It will not "endure." His agricultural ventures will fail. His darkness will be permanent. The "flame" of God's judgment will scorch his offspring, his "shoots," cutting off his future. And his own end will be a direct act of God's judgment; "by the breath of His mouth he will depart." This is a powerful statement of God's sovereignty in judgment. The ruin of the wicked is not an accident of fate; it is the execution of a divine sentence.

31-33 Let him not believe in emptiness, deceiving himself; For emptiness will be his reward. It will be fulfilled before his time, And his branch will not be green. He will shake off his unripe grape like the vine, And will cast off his blossom like the olive tree.

Eliphaz warns against the self-deception of the wicked. They trust in "emptiness," in things that have no substance or power to save, like wealth or their own strength. But the law of the harvest is absolute: if you sow emptiness, you will reap emptiness. Judgment will come "before his time," meaning he will die a premature death, his life cut short. His family line will wither. Like a vine that drops its grapes before they are ripe, or an olive tree that sheds its blossoms before they can become fruit, his posterity will be cut off. He will have no legacy.

34-35 For the company of the godless is barren, And fire consumes the tents of the corrupt. They conceive trouble and give birth to wickedness, And their belly prepares deception.”

The speech concludes with a summary statement. The "company of the godless" is sterile, fruitless, "barren." This is a spiritual principle. Those who cut themselves off from God, the source of all life, cannot produce anything of lasting value. Their homes, the "tents of the corrupt," are consumed by the fire of judgment. The final verse describes their internal character. Their whole life is a perverse gestation. They "conceive trouble," their plans and ambitions are rooted in mischief. They "give birth to wickedness," their actions are sinful. And their inmost being, their "belly," is a factory of lies, constantly preparing "deception." They are corrupt from the inside out, and their end is destruction.

Application

The first and most obvious application is a warning against being an Eliphaz. It is a terrible thing to use true theology to beat up a suffering saint. We must handle the Word of God with fear and trembling, and we must apply it with pastoral wisdom and compassion, not with the cold logic of an inquisitor. We live in a fallen world, and sometimes godly people suffer terribly. Our first duty is not to find a reason for their suffering, but to weep with those who weep and to offer the comfort of the gospel, which is that Christ suffered for us, the righteous for the unrighteous.

But there is a second application, and we must not miss it. Eliphaz was wrong about Job, but he was not wrong about the wicked. This speech is a terrifyingly accurate portrait of a man at war with God. We should read it and examine our own hearts. Is there any of this defiance in us? Do we, in our prosperity, cover our faces with fat and forget the God who gave us everything? Do we trust in emptiness, in our bank accounts or our accomplishments, deceiving ourselves into thinking they can save us? Do we rush headlong against God's commands with the shield of our own self-justification?

The only escape from the fate Eliphaz describes is to lay down our arms. It is to confess that we have, in fact, stretched out our hand against God and magnified ourselves against the Almighty. It is to abandon our own righteousness, which is nothing but a filthy shield, and to take refuge in the righteousness of another. Christ is the one who faced the destroyer for us. He entered the darkness so that we might see light. He was cut off before His time so that we, the barren ones, might be grafted into the vine and bear fruit for God. Eliphaz's speech describes the disease perfectly. The gospel provides the only cure.