Ancient Near East poetry. What can I say? Most of us do not enjoy it. Understanding it a little better can help us appreciate it, though.
Think about what we like about poetry. Most of us don’t enjoy poetry in our own language and culture, but we do enjoy good rhythm and rhyme. But Ancient Near Easterners didn’t go for rhythm and rhyme. What made their poetry great in their eyes was mostly parallelism of thought. Which means a really good poet would find several different ways to state his idea. Say it, then say it again, and again, and perhaps again. Unfortunately, that isn’t appreciated in our culture; we are strictly the opposite: say it in the smallest possible sound byte. Reading Hebrew poetry is an opportunity for us to grow in appreciation for other cultures and to be exposed to other ways of doing things than our own. It’s good for us. When you’re frustrated with a speaker’s beating his idea to death, instead of thinking, “We get the idea; now move on!” we can think about how the writer’s original audience would have been really impressed with his poetry writing skills.
That can make Job a rather dangerous book. In the midst of our minds wandering as we slog through the speakers’ beating their subject to death, our attention is caught by a startlingly inconsistent statement. “The Bible says THAT?” we think. Many people take statements from Job out of context in this manner. Your challenge with Job is to follow the arguments and understand what is being said. Sometimes the forthrightness of the speakers is scandalous to our politically correct ways of thinking, especially as the exchange progresses. See if you can find these slams. Make sure you understand who is saying the startling statements that people take out of context, and understand their context. Hopefully these things will not only keep you awake and engaged as you read Job, but even give you some enjoyment.
So Eliphaz is the first one to speak. He’s a prime example of how not to comfort your grieving, suffering friend.
Have you ever experienced even just one of the losses Job suffered in chapters one and two? The loss of a child? The loss of your wealth? The loss of your source of earning a living? Any one of these is a devastating loss; all three together are unimaginable. The loss of the latter two transformed Job’s way of life: he went from being a prominent citizen of his community, managing his many resources, to facing subsistence living at cost of great toil. It’s a painful transition.
What do you want from others in the face of the profound pain of such awful losses? A dismissal of your losses in comparing them to something much less costly than your own loss? (I once had an acquaintance say he understood my grief over the death of my baby daughter, because he had just lost his dog.) Offering platitudes? Stating the obvious – over and over again? A judgment of your undeniable sinful state because this has happened to you? If you think these can give you comfort in loss, then Eliphaz is the friend for you.
It’s not that what he says is untrue. But his opening statement implies that Job’s grief makes him a hypocrite for all the words of comfort and strength he has offered hurting people in the past. Wouldn’t Job be expected to hurt deeply over these losses he has suffered, wishing he had never been born? Seasons of sorrow come upon all of us throughout our lives, and we will hurt, but that doesn’t make us hypocrites for offering comfort to others who hurt.
Eliphaz left Job no response but to admit his sinful state (which would not be true, because Job knew he was blameless, and God had verified it to Satan), because Eliphaz had had the privilege of a great revelation from God: that all men are sinners before God. In the midst of Job’s great loss, Eliphaz tells him, “Behold, how happy is the man whom God reproves,/So do not despise the discipline of the Almighty.” He assumes Job is suffering because God is disciplining him for his sin, which of course is not true, and Job knows it isn’t true or else either God is not all-knowing or He is not just. The crisis of faith in God adds to Job’s suffering! Further, how can Job be happy in light of his current losses? He needs time to grieve his loss, and his friend should have given him time to go through that process, including its anger phase. Who can possibly be happy that he has lost every one of his children in one fell swoop, and his wealth and earning power to boot?!
He assumed that God only brings suffering to a righteous man to discipline him. How fortunate we are that God’s ways are above our ways, and His thoughts are above man’s thoughts!
Job was left to find his own comfort, and he did, small as it may seem. Can you find what it was? Hint: it came from his own character.
A great lesson for us all in Job’s response is, “For the despairing man there should be kindness from his friend; Lest he forsake the fear of the Almighty.” (v. 6:14) God’s enemy only bothers with us because he knows our commitment to God is often based on the blessings He gives us, and when they are withdrawn, we will turn away from Him. We need to understand the nature of our own commitment to God in preparation for such testing. We need to understand the danger to our suffering friends’ souls in such times. If our platitudes or presumptions to know God’s mind and ways cause them to turn away from God, we are no true friends.