Commentary - Job 31:13-23

Bird's-eye view

In this section of Job's final oath of innocence, we see the outworking of true, God-fearing faith in the social realm. This is not the testimony of a man trying to justify himself by his works. Rather, this is a man on trial for his life, pointing to the evidence. He is saying, in effect, "Look at the fruit. A corrupt tree cannot produce this." Job's defense is a magnificent exposition of biblical social ethics, grounded not in sentimental humanism, but in the profound theological reality of a common Creator. He argues that his just treatment of his slaves, his generosity to the poor and orphaned, and his refusal to abuse his power all stem from one place: a holy dread of the judgment of an exalted God. This is a portrait of patriarchal righteousness, where a man's relationship with God is proven by how he treats the most vulnerable people under his care.

Job systematically covers his conduct toward those below him on the social ladder (slaves), those with no social standing (the poor, widows, orphans), and those he could have easily exploited (the needy and fatherless). For each category, he not only declares his innocence but also invokes a curse upon himself if he is lying. The climax of the argument is that his motivation was not to win favor with men, but to avoid the "disaster from God" that he rightly dreaded. This is a man who lived his entire life with an awareness that he would one day have to give an account to the God who made both him and the lowest servant in his household.

Outline

Context In Job

This passage is part of Job's final, great speech which runs from chapter 29 to 31. This is his closing argument, his summary defense before God and man. In chapter 29, he reminisced about his former blessed state. In chapter 30, he lamented his current miserable condition. Now, in chapter 31, he makes his "oath of clearing," a series of self-imprecatory statements where he declares his innocence regarding a whole range of sins, from lust and falsehood to greed and, here, social injustice. This is Job's last word before the youthful Elihu speaks and, more importantly, before God Himself answers out of the whirlwind. Job is putting all his cards on the table. He is not claiming sinless perfection, but he is claiming that the accusations of his friends, that he is suffering because of some great secret wickedness, are utterly false. This chapter is the high-water mark of Old Testament ethics, demonstrating a righteousness that flows from a heart rightly oriented toward God.

Key Issues

The Righteousness from God

When a modern reader comes across a passage like this, the temptation is to see Job as a self-righteous Pharisee, listing off his good deeds as though he were trying to climb his way into heaven. But that is to read the New Testament debates back into the Old Testament wrongly. Job is not arguing for his justification by works. He is arguing against the slander of his friends. They have insisted that he is a great sinner, and God is punishing him for it. Job's response is to appeal to the evidence of his life. True faith works. It produces fruit. Job is pointing to the fruit.

The righteousness Job describes is not a righteousness he cooked up on his own. It is a righteousness that comes from God because it is oriented toward God. The foundation of his entire ethic is his relationship to his Creator. Why treat a slave justly? Because God made him. Why care for the orphan? Because God is the ultimate Father. Why not abuse power? Because God, who is truly exalted, will bring disaster upon the unjust. This is not the language of a man pulling on his own bootstraps. This is the language of a man who walks in the fear of the Lord, which is the beginning of wisdom. His life is an open book before God, and he is willing for God to read it aloud.

Verse by Verse Commentary

13 “If I have rejected the justice of my male or female slaves When they filed a complaint against me,

Job begins with a category of person who had virtually no rights in the ancient world: a slave. For a master to even entertain a "complaint" or a legal case from his slave was extraordinary. The world ran on the principle of might makes right. But Job operated on a different principle. He acknowledges that his slaves, both male and female, had a just cause, a case that deserved to be heard. He did not dismiss their grievances out of hand simply because he was the master and had the power to do so. This is a radical social ethic for his time, and it flows directly from his theology.

14 What then could I do when God arises? And when He calls me to account, with what will I respond to Him?

Here is the reason for his just treatment of his slaves. It is not because he was a progressive sociologist. It is because he knew that he himself was a servant of a higher Master. He lived his life in anticipation of the day when God would "arise" in judgment. On that day, all earthly hierarchies are flattened. The master and the slave both stand as creatures before the Creator. Job knew he would be called to account for how he wielded his authority. If he had been unjust to his servant, what possible defense could he offer to the ultimate Judge? His horizontal relationships were governed by his vertical accountability.

15 Did not He who made me in the womb make him, And the same one fashion us in the womb?

This is the theological bedrock of the entire passage, and one of the most profound statements on human dignity in the Old Testament. Job grounds the slave's right to justice in the doctrine of creation. The same God who formed Job, the master, in his mother's womb also formed the slave in his. They share a common origin and a common Maker. This is the seed of the doctrine of the imago Dei, the image of God. While social and economic distinctions exist in this life, they are relativized by the ultimate reality that all men are creatures of the one God. To wrong the slave is therefore to offend the slave's Maker. This is the only solid foundation for human rights, not the shifting sands of human sentiment, but the unchanging reality of God the Creator.

16-18 “If I have held back the poor from their desire, Or have caused the eyes of the widow to fail, Or have eaten my morsel alone, And the orphan has not eaten from it (But from my youth he grew up with me as with a father, And from the womb of my mother I guided her),

Job moves from his household servants to the vulnerable in the broader community. He denies three things: withholding what the poor desired (likely basic necessities), causing the widow's eyes to "fail" from looking for help that never came, and eating his food by himself without sharing with the orphan. He then makes a remarkable parenthetical claim. This charity was not a recent development, perhaps to curry favor with God. No, it was a lifelong habit. From his youth, the orphan grew up in his household as if Job were his own father. He cared for the widow ("her") from his mother's womb, a figure of speech for his entire life. This is the description of a true patriarch, a man who uses his resources to create a covenant community of security and provision for those who have none.

19-20 If I have seen anyone perish for lack of clothing, Or that the needy had no covering, If his loins have not blessed me, And if he has not been warmed with the fleece of my sheep,

The care is practical and tangible. It is not a matter of empty words. Job denies ever seeing someone in danger of perishing from exposure without providing clothing. The result of this charity is beautiful: the "loins" of the man he clothed have "blessed" him. This is not just a verbal thank you. It is the blessing of a life preserved, of warmth in the cold. The man is kept warm by the fleece from Job's own sheep. Job's wealth was not a private hoard for his own indulgence; it was a resource for the good of the community. He was a productive man, and the fruit of his labor blessed others.

21 If I have waved my hand against the orphan Because I saw my help in the gate,

This is a particularly searching test of integrity. Job considers the temptation to abuse power. To "wave my hand" against the orphan is a gesture of threat or accusation. The reason he might be tempted to do this is because he "saw my help in the gate." The city gate was where legal cases were decided and business was transacted. Job is saying that he knew he had connections. He had influence with the elders and judges. He could have easily won a case against a powerless orphan, regardless of the merits, simply because the system was tilted in his favor. He is declaring that he never used his social capital to oppress the weak.

22 Let my shoulder fall from the socket, And my arm be broken off at the elbow.

Here is the self-imprecatory oath attached to the previous declaration. If he is lying, if he ever used his powerful arm to threaten an orphan, then let that same arm be ripped from his body. The punishment fits the crime. This is not the language of a man who is unsure of his standing. It is the forceful, confident declaration of a man with a clear conscience on this matter. He is willing to stake his own physical well being on the truth of his testimony.

23 For disaster from God is a dread to me, And because of His exaltedness I can do nothing.

This verse provides the ultimate motivation for all the preceding acts of justice and mercy. Why did Job do these things? Why did he fear to do otherwise? It was not because he feared losing his reputation among men. It was because "disaster from God" was a "dread" to him. He had a holy, reverential fear of divine judgment. He understood God's majesty, His "exaltedness." Before such a God, he knew he was powerless ("I can do nothing"). All his wealth, power, and influence would melt away to nothing before the tribunal of the Almighty. This is the fear of the Lord that is the beginning of wisdom, and the foundation of all true righteousness.

Application

Job's oath is a bracing challenge to our modern, often sentimental, and frequently politicized notions of justice. First, it teaches us that all true justice must be grounded in theology. Our concern for the poor, the immigrant, the unborn, and the oppressed cannot be based on shifting political tides or emotional appeals. It must be based on the unshakeable truth that every single human being is fashioned by God and therefore possesses a dignity that we must honor. When we care for the weak, we are not just being nice; we are acknowledging the handiwork of our common Creator.

Second, Job shows us that righteousness is not a matter of grand, abstract gestures, but of concrete, daily habits. It is how you treat your employees. It is whether you share your lunch. It is whether you use your influence to help or to hinder. It is clothing the naked and feeding the hungry, not through a faceless bureaucracy, but from the fleece of your own sheep and the morsel from your own plate. This is covenantal living, where our faith is worked out in the warp and woof of our relationships.

Finally, Job reminds us that the ultimate motivation for a just life is the fear of God. We live in an age that despises fear and worships affirmation. But the Bible teaches that a holy dread of God's majesty and judgment is the beginning of all wisdom. We should be far more concerned with the account we will give to Him than with the approval rating we have with our peers. Job lived justly because he knew that one day God would arise, and on that day, the only thing that would matter would be the righteousness that comes from God, a righteousness that is demonstrated by a life of faith-filled obedience.