The Miserable Comfort of a Tidy Worldview Text: Job 15:17-35
Introduction: When Good Advice Goes Bad
We are in the second round of speeches between Job and his friends, and the gloves are well and truly off. The initial, feigned sympathy has evaporated, and we are now getting down to the brass tacks of their theological system. And what we find in this speech from Eliphaz is a classic example of a man who is more in love with his tidy system than he is with his suffering friend, or for that matter, with the God who providentially governs this messy world.
Eliphaz here is the patron saint of all miserable comforters. He is not entirely wrong in what he says. In fact, taken in isolation, much of this speech is a reasonably accurate description of the consequences of high-handed rebellion against God. The problem is not that his words are, in themselves, entirely false. The problem is that they are brutally and catastrophically misapplied. He is delivering the right medicine to the wrong patient for the wrong disease. He is performing a flawless amputation on a man who only has a splinter.
This is what happens when you have a theological grid, a worldview, that has no room for mystery. Eliphaz and his friends operate on a very simple, almost mechanical, principle of retribution. If you are good, God blesses you with health and wealth. If you are bad, God clobbers you. Since Job is being clobbered on a cosmic scale, the conclusion, for Eliphaz, is inescapable: Job must be a very, very bad man, hiding some spectacular sin. The book of Job as a whole is a divine demolition of this tidy, contractual, vending-machine religion. God cannot be managed. He will not be domesticated. His justice is not as simple as our tidy flow charts.
But in this passage, Eliphaz goes a step further. He is no longer just reasoning from Job's circumstances. He is now painting a vivid, detailed portrait of the archetypal wicked man, and he is holding this portrait up for Job to look at, saying, "See the family resemblance? This is you." He is describing the inner torment, the constant dread, the ultimate futility and barrenness of the man who shakes his fist at God. And in doing so, he gives us a masterful, though unintentional, diagnosis of the modern secular man, the man who has declared his autonomy from God and now finds himself terrified by the meaningless world he has created.
The Text
"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. 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. 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. Distress and anguish terrify him; They overpower him like a king ready for the attack, Because he has stretched out his hand against God And magnifies himself against the Almighty. He rushes headlong at Him With his massive shield. 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. He will not become rich, nor will his wealth endure; And his grain will not stretch out over the land. 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. Let him not believe in emptiness, deceiving himself; For emptiness will be his reward, When his days are not yet fulfilled, And his palm branch is not green. He will drop off his unripe grape like the vine, And will cast off his flower like the olive tree. 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."
(Job 15:17-35 LSB)
The Received Tradition (vv. 17-19)
Eliphaz begins by appealing to ancient, pure tradition. He is not, he claims, making this up.
"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." (Job 15:17-19)
Eliphaz is pulling rank. He is saying, "Job, this isn't just my opinion. This is the accumulated wisdom of the ages, passed down from our forefathers." He appeals to a pure tradition, from a time when "no stranger passed among them." He is claiming access to an uncorrupted, unadulterated stream of truth. There is a certain kind of conservative mind that does this. They appeal to tradition not as a guide, but as an infallible authority. But tradition, even good tradition, can become an idol. The Pharisees did this with the law. They revered the traditions of the elders to the point that they nullified the Word of God. Eliphaz is doing something similar. He has his system, his tradition of how God works, and he is going to force Job's reality into that box, no matter how much it screams.
The Inner World of the Wicked (vv. 20-24)
Having established his authority, Eliphaz now paints a picture of the inner life of the man who rebels against God.
"The wicked man writhes in pain all his days... Sounds of dread are in his ears; While at peace the destroyer comes upon him... Distress and anguish terrify him; They overpower him like a king ready for the attack..." (Job 15:20-24)
This is a profound psychological portrait. The wicked man, the man who has rejected God as his foundation, lives in a state of constant, low-grade terror. He "writhes in pain," not necessarily physical pain, but the existential anguish of a life built on nothing. "Sounds of dread are in his ears." He lives with a perpetual paranoia. Even when things are peaceful, when the stock market is up and the doctor's report is good, he cannot rest. The "destroyer comes upon him." Why? Because if there is no sovereign God, then the universe is ultimately chaotic and hostile. Anything can happen at any moment for no reason. Your world can be dismantled in an instant by chance, by fate, by a stray molecule. Without God, there is no ultimate safety, no final refuge. You are alone in a world of dread.
This is the state of modern, secular man. He has killed God and now he is haunted by His ghost. He has declared his autonomy and now lives in a state of perpetual anxiety. He fills his life with noise, with entertainment, with frantic activity, all to drown out the "sounds of dread" in his ears. Distress and anguish are not just occasional visitors; they "overpower him like a king ready for the attack." They are his sovereign.
The Cause of the Calamity (vv. 25-28)
Eliphaz now identifies the root cause of this inner torment. It is not a mystery. It is active, high-handed rebellion against the Almighty.
"Because he has stretched out his hand against God And magnifies himself against the Almighty. He rushes headlong at Him With his massive shield. For he has covered his face with his fat And made his thighs heavy with flesh." (Job 15:25-28)
This is not a picture of a man who has simply made a few mistakes. This is a portrait of defiant rebellion. He "stretches out his hand against God." This is the posture of insurrection. He "magnifies himself against the Almighty." This is the very essence of pride. It is the creature attempting to usurp the place of the Creator. It is the clay telling the potter what to do. He doesn't just drift into sin; he "rushes headlong" at God, armed with his "massive shield." He thinks his own strength, his own resources, his own intellect can protect him from the reality of God.
And notice the description in verse 27. "He has covered his face with his fat and made his thighs heavy with flesh." This is not just a comment on his physical condition. It is a metaphor for a life of decadent, self-indulgent prosperity. He is so insulated by his own comfort, so bloated by his own success, that he has become numb and insensitive to God. His prosperity has become his shield. He thinks his 401k, his gated community, and his political connections make him invulnerable. He has become fat and arrogant, living in "desolate cities," in houses built on foundations of sand, destined for ruin. This is a perfect picture of a decadent West, fat with prosperity, bloated with self-importance, and rushing headlong against the God who gave them everything.
The Inevitable Collapse (vv. 29-35)
The final section of Eliphaz's speech describes the utter futility and barrenness of such a life. The rebellion, however defiant, is doomed to fail.
"He will not become rich, nor will his wealth endure... He will not be able to depart from darkness... Let him not believe in emptiness, deceiving himself; For emptiness will be his reward... For the company of the godless is barren... They conceive trouble and give birth to wickedness, And their belly prepares deception." (Job 15:29-35)
Here is the principle of sowing and reaping, which is an iron law of God's universe. The man who builds his life on rebellion will find that his structures cannot stand. His wealth will not endure. He thinks he is building a legacy, but he is building on a sinkhole. He thinks he is pursuing life, but he cannot depart from darkness. He trusts in "emptiness," in vanity, in things that have no ultimate substance, and so "emptiness will be his reward."
The imagery here is agricultural and potent. His palm branch is not green. He drops his unripe grape. He casts off his flower like the olive tree. There is no fruit. The rebellion against the Giver of life results in a life that is sterile, fruitless, and barren. "The company of the godless is barren." This is a fundamental truth. A worldview that begins with godlessness cannot produce lasting fruit. It can only consume the cultural and moral capital inherited from a previous Christian consensus. Once that is gone, it can only produce sterility and death. It conceives trouble and gives birth to wickedness. Its great project, its belly, prepares only deception.
Look at our own culture. We are obsessed with "choice" and "freedom," yet we are seeing demographic collapse. We have cast off God's design for men and women, and the result is confusion, sterility, and barrenness. We have sown the wind of rebellion, and we are reaping the whirlwind of futility. Eliphaz, in his misapplication to Job, has perfectly described the dead-end street of secular humanism.
The Right Diagnosis, The Wrong Patient
So what do we do with this? Eliphaz's speech is a masterful description of the psychology and destiny of the ungodly rebel. The problem is that he is preaching it at the wrong man. Job is not this man. God Himself has testified that Job is blameless and upright. Job's suffering is not the result of his sin, but is part of a cosmic battle in the heavenly places, a battle over the very nature of faith.
Eliphaz's error is the error of all legalists and all who embrace a theology of glory without a theology of the cross. He cannot comprehend a God who would allow a righteous man to suffer. He cannot fathom a faith that perseveres not because of blessings, but in spite of their removal. His tidy system has no category for a suffering servant.
And that, of course, points us to the ultimate suffering servant, the Lord Jesus Christ. For if you want to see a man who was truly righteous, truly blameless, and yet suffered incomprehensibly, you must look to the cross. On the cross, God did to His only beloved Son what Eliphaz thought God only does to the wicked. Jesus endured the ultimate "day of darkness." He was overpowered by the "king ready for the attack." He cried out from a place of ultimate dereliction. Why? So that the true rebels, you and I, could be forgiven.
The gospel flips Eliphaz's tidy retribution principle on its head. The righteous one was punished so that the wicked might be declared righteous. He who was fruitful was made barren on the cross, so that we who were barren in our godlessness might be made fruitful in Him. He took our emptiness as His reward, so that we might receive the fullness of His life as our own.
Therefore, we must reject the miserable comfort of Eliphaz. We must reject the lie that our circumstances are a direct reflection of our righteousness. And we must cling to the one who entered into the heart of the storm for us. He is the one who understands our suffering, and He is the one who gives our suffering meaning. Our hope is not in our own performance, but in His. Our comfort is not in a tidy, predictable world, but in a sovereign God who works all things, even the inexplicable agonies of a man like Job, for the good of those who love Him and for His ultimate glory.