The Ghost of a Godly Social Order Text: Job 29:7-11
Introduction: When Honor Had a Home
We live in an age that is allergic to honor. Our generation has cultivated a sour and cynical egalitarianism that bristles at the very thought of deference. We have been taught that to show respect is a form of weakness and that to receive it is a form of oppression. The modern man wants a world flattened out, where every peak of excellence is bulldozed and every valley of humility is filled in. The result is not a beautiful plain, but a desolate wasteland. A world without honor is a world without gratitude, without aspiration, and ultimately, without order.
Into this drab, gray world, the words of Job in our text land like a thunderclap from a forgotten time. Job is lamenting his present state of misery, and he does so by painting a vivid picture of his former life. And what does he remember? What does he long for? He remembers a world where righteousness was publicly acknowledged, where wisdom was honored, and where the social fabric was woven together with threads of respect. He is describing a functioning, godly, patriarchal order. The very thing our world despises, Job remembers as the pinnacle of blessing.
This passage is more than just a trip down memory lane for a suffering man. It is a portrait of a healthy society. It is a description of the external blessings that often, though not always, accompany a life of integrity before God. We must be careful here. Job's friends made the simplistic error of assuming that suffering is always the direct result of personal sin. We must not make the opposite error of assuming that such public honor is an entitlement for the righteous. God's providence is more mysterious than that. But we must not spiritualize this away either. God created a world where certain causes have certain effects. A life of wisdom, justice, and righteousness ought to command respect. When it does, it is a sign of health in the culture. When it does not, it is a sign of advanced disease.
Job's memory serves as a rebuke to our age. He is not boasting in his own righteousness, as though he had generated it himself. He is remembering the days when "the Almighty was yet with me" (Job 29:5). All this honor was a consequence of God's favor. He is describing the peaceable fruit of righteousness in the civil square. Let us therefore look at this ghost of a godly social order and learn what we have lost, and what, by God's grace, we might one day hope to rebuild.
The Text
When I went out to the gate of the city, When I took my seat in the square, The young men saw me and hid, And the old men arose and stood. The princes stopped talking And put their hands on their mouths; The voice of the nobles was hidden away, And their tongue clung to their palate. For the ear heard, and it called me blessed, And the eye saw, and it gave witness of me...
(Job 29:7-11 LSB)
The Magistrate in the Gate (v. 7)
Job begins by describing his role as a public figure, a man of authority and judgment.
"When I went out to the gate of the city, When I took my seat in the square," (Job 29:7)
The gate of the city was not just an entrance; it was the courthouse, the city hall, and the public forum all in one. This was where business was transacted, where disputes were settled, and where the elders and judges sat. When Job says he "took his seat in the square," he is telling us that he was a magistrate, a recognized leader in his community. He was not a private citizen minding his own affairs. He was a man with public responsibilities, and he did not shirk them.
This is the first blow against our modern, pietistic sensibilities. We are often tempted to think of righteousness as a purely private, internal affair between a man and God. But biblical righteousness is robust. It is public. It has calloused hands and walks out into the public square to administer justice. Job's integrity was not something he kept in a jar on his mantlepiece. It was something he took to the gate. He applied the wisdom God had given him to the real-world problems of his people. He understood that faith without works is dead, and that private piety without public justice is a sham.
His presence in the gate was not an act of self-promotion but of service. He was taking up the responsibility that his station required of him. Authority flows to those who take responsibility, and it flees from those who evade it. Job was a man who took responsibility, and as we will see, authority and honor flowed to him as a result.
A Culture of Deference (v. 8)
Next, Job describes the immediate effect his presence had on both the young and the old.
"The young men saw me and hid, And the old men arose and stood." (Job 29:8 LSB)
This verse is a beautiful snapshot of a culture that understands honor. Notice the two distinct reactions. The young men "hid" themselves. This was not out of terror, as though Job were a tyrant. It was an expression of profound respect and humility. It was the recognition that a man of gravity, wisdom, and authority was present, and their youthful chatter and boisterousness were out of place. They instinctively made way. They effaced themselves. This is the proper posture of youth in the presence of seasoned wisdom. It is a recognition that they are there to learn, not to lecture.
And what of the old men? They "arose and stood." These were Job's peers, men of age and standing themselves. Yet, when Job, the chief among them, took his seat, they stood up as a mark of respect for his office and his character. This was not the false bonhomie of an egalitarian committee. This was a hierarchy of honor. They were not threatened by Job's preeminence; they were honoring it. In honoring him, they were upholding the very structure of their society. They understood that for a society to function, excellence must be recognized and honored.
Contrast this with our own day. The young are taught to be insolent, and the old are taught to be irrelevant. We have inverted the created order. The deference of the young and the respect of the aged that Job describes are not arbitrary customs. They are the social grease that allows a society to function without constant friction and rebellion.
The Sound of Silence (v. 9-10)
The circle of honor widens to include the most powerful men in the city.
"The princes stopped talking And put their hands on their mouths; The voice of the nobles was hidden away, And their tongue clung to their palate." (Job 29:9-10 LSB)
Even the princes and nobles, the political and social elites, fell silent when Job prepared to speak. They put their hands on their mouths, a universal sign of ceasing to speak and preparing to listen. Their own voices, accustomed to giving commands, were "hidden away." Their tongues, skilled in rhetoric and debate, "clung to their palate."
Why? Because they knew that the words Job was about to speak were weighty. They expected to hear wisdom, justice, and truth. Job had earned his hearing. He did not demand respect; his character and his history of sound judgment commanded it. This is the essence of true authority. It does not need to shout. It does not need to threaten. When a man of proven righteousness speaks, wise men listen.
This is a profound lesson for us in all spheres of life, from the family to the church to the state. If you want to be heard, be the kind of person worth listening to. Cultivate integrity. Speak truth. Act justly. Over time, your words will gain weight. The world is full of noise, of princes and nobles babbling for attention. The man who can bring a word of true wisdom into that chaos is a man who will, in a healthy society, be heard.
The Reason for the Respect (v. 11)
Finally, Job provides the foundation for all this public honor. It was not based on his wealth or his title, but on his actions.
"For the ear heard, and it called me blessed, And the eye saw, and it gave witness of me," (Job 29:11 LSB)
This is the key that unlocks the entire passage. The honor was not a mirage. It was a response to tangible reality. The people had heard his just decisions and had seen his righteous deeds. The "ear" and the "eye" of the public were his witnesses. When people heard of Job, they called him blessed. When they saw him, his very presence testified to his integrity. His reputation was not manufactured; it was the natural outgrowth of his character.
What did they see and hear? The following verses tell us explicitly: "I delivered the poor who cried out," "I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy," "I was eyes to the blind, and I was feet to the lame" (Job 29:12-15). This was not the honor given to a celebrity. This was the honor given to a father of his people. He used his strength to defend the weak. He used his power to serve the powerless. He put on righteousness, and it clothed him. His justice was his robe and his turban.
Conclusion: The Ache for a Lost World
As Job sits on his ash heap, scraping his sores with a piece of pottery, this is the world he remembers. He is not just mourning his lost health or his lost children or his lost wealth. He is mourning the loss of a world that made sense. A world where justice was honored and the righteous were blessed. His current state is a brutal contradiction to everything he knew.
And here is the lesson for us. First, we should desire to build such a world. We should work and pray for a culture where the young show deference, where elders are respected, where leaders are honored for their wisdom, and where a righteous reputation is a man's most valuable possession. This is not a nostalgic dream; it is a biblical mandate. We are to seek the welfare of the city.
But second, and more importantly, we must learn the lesson that Job was in the process of learning in the crucible of his suffering. We must not put our ultimate hope in the blessings, but in the Blesser. The honor of men is a good thing, but it is a fickle thing. The world that honored Job one day was nowhere to be found the next. Our identity cannot be rooted in our reputation. It cannot be rooted in the respect we receive from others. It must be rooted in the unshakable reality of our standing in Christ.
Jesus Christ was the only truly righteous man to ever walk the earth. And how was He treated? The young mocked Him, the elders conspired against Him, the princes fell silent only to condemn Him, and the public eye and ear witnessed not His righteousness, but a trumped-up charge of blasphemy. He traded the ultimate honor of heaven for the ultimate shame of the cross. He did this so that we, who deserve only shame, might be clothed in His honor, His righteousness.
Our goal, then, is to live like Job in his prosperity, using whatever influence we have for justice and righteousness, seeking to build a society that honors what is good. But when suffering comes, when that honor evaporates, we must cling to the hope of Job in his adversity. Our vindication does not ultimately come from the city gate. Our Redeemer lives. And because He lives, and because we are in Him, our honor is secure in heaven, even when it is nowhere to be found on earth.