Then Eliphaz the Temanite answered and said.
The first colloquy
At this point we pass into the poem proper. It opens with three colloquies between Job and his friends. In form these colloquies closely resemble each other. But while similar in form, in spirit they differ widely. At the outset the friends are content to hint their doubts of Job, their suspicion that he has fallen into some secret and heinous sin, in general and ambiguous terms; but, as the argument rolls on, they are irritated by the boldness with which he rebuts their charges and asserts his integrity, and grow ever more candid and harsh and angry in the denunciation of his guilt. With fine truth to nature, the poet depicts Job as passing through an entirely opposite process. At first, while they content themselves with hints and “ambiguous givings-out,” with insinuating in general terms that he must have sinned, and set themselves to win him to confession and repentance, he is exasperated beyond all endurance, and challenges the justice both of man and God; for it is these general charges, these covert and undefined insinuations of some “occulted guilt,” which, because it is impossible to meet them, most of all vex and disturb the soul. But as, in their rising anger, they exchange ambiguous hints for open, definite charges, by a fine natural revulsion, Job grows even more calm and reasonable; for definite charges can be definitely met; why then should he any longer vex and distress his spirit? More and more he turns away from the loud, foolish outcries of his friends, and addresses himself to God, even when he seems to speak to them. (Samuel Cox, D. D.)
The message of the three friends
When Job opened his mouth and spoke, their sympathy was dashed with pious horror. They had never in all their lives heard such words. He seemed to prove himself far worse than they could have imagined. He ought to have been meek and submissive. Some flaw there must have been: what was it? He should have confessed his sin, instead of cursing life, and reflecting upon God. Their own silent suspicion, indeed, is the chief cause of his despair; but this they do not understand. Amazed, they hear him; outraged, they take up the challenge he offers. One after another the three men reason with Job, from almost the same point of view, suggesting first, and then insisting that he should acknowledge fault, and humble himself under the hand of a just and holy God. Now, here is the motive of the long controversy which is the main subject of the poem. And, in tracing it, we are to see Job, although racked by pain and distraught by grief--sadly at disadvantage, because he seems to be a living example of the truth of their ideas--rousing himself to the defence of his integrity and contending for that as the only grip he has of God. Advance after advance is made by the three, who gradually become more dogmatic as the controversy proceeds. Defence after defence is made by Job, who is driven to think himself challenged not only by his friends, but sometimes also by God Himself through them. Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar agree in the opinion that Job has done evil and is suffering for it. The language they use, and the arguments they bring forward are much alike. Yet a difference will be found in their way of speaking, and a vaguely suggested difference of character. Eliphaz gives us an impression of age and authority. When Job has ended his complaint, Eliphaz regards him with a disturbed and offended look. “How pitiful!” he seems to say but also, “How dreadful, how unaccountable!” He desires to win Job to a right view of things by kindly counsel; but he talks pompously, and preaches too much from the high moral bench. Bildad, again, is a dry and composed person. He is less the man of experience than of tradition. He does not speak of discoveries made in the course of his own observation; but he has stored the sayings of the wise and reflected upon them. When a thing is cleverly said he is satisfied, and he cannot understand why his impressive statements should fail to convince and convert. He is a gentleman like Eliphaz, and uses courtesy. At first he refrains from wounding Job’s feelings. Yet behind his politeness is the sense of superior wisdom--and wisdom of ages and his own. He is certainly a harder man than Eliphaz. Lastly, Zophar is a blunt man with a decidedly rough, dictatorial style. He is impatient of the waste of words on a matter so plain, and prides himself on coming to the point. It is he who ventures to say definitely, “Know therefore that God exacteth of thee less than thine iniquity deserveth,”--a cruel speech from any point of view. He is not so eloquent as Eliphaz, he has no air of a prophet. Compared with Bildad, he is less argumentative. With all his sympathy--and he too is a friend--he shows an exasperation which he justifies by his zeal for the honour of God. The differences are delicate, but real, and evident even to our late criticism. In the author’s day the characters would probably seem more distinctly contrasted than they appear to us. Still, it must be owned, each holds virtually the same position. One prevailing school of thought is represented, and in each figure attacked. It is not difficult to imagine three speakers differing far more from each other. One hears the breathings of the same dogmatism in the three voices. The dramatising is vague, not at all of our sharp, modern kind, like that of Ibsen, throwing each figure into vivid contrast with every other. (Robert A. Watson, D. D.)
Eliphaz as a natural religionist
See such an one estimating man’s character.
I. He regarded the fact that a man suffered as proof of his wickedness. It is true that the principle of retribution is at work amongst men in this world. It is also true that this principle is manifest in most signal judgments. But retribution here, though often manifest, is not invariable and adequate; the wicked are not always made wretched, nor are the good always made happy in this life. To judge a man’s character by his external circumstances is a most flagrant mistake.
1. Suffering is not necessarily connected (directly) with sin.
2. Suffering seems almost necessary to the human creature in this world.
3. Suffering, as a fact, has a sanitary influence upon the character of the good.
II. He regarded the murmuring of a man under suffering as a proof of his wickedness. Job had uttered terrible complaints. Eliphaz was right here: a murmuring spirit is essentially an evil. In this complaining spirit Eliphaz discovers two things. Hypocrisy. Ignorance of God. He then unfolds a vision he had, which suggests three things.
1. That man has a capacity to hold intercourse with a spirit world.
2. That man’s character places him in a humiliating position in the spirit world.
3. That man’s earthly state is only a temporary separation from a conscious existence in the spirit world. (Homilist.)
The error of Eliphaz
Let us avoid the error of Eliphaz, the Temanite, who, in reproving Job, maintained that the statute of requital is enforced in all cases, rigorously and exactly--that the world is governed on the principle of minute recompense--that sin is always followed by its equivalent of suffering in this present life. This is not so. To the rule of recompense we must allow for a vast number of exceptions. The penalty does not always follow directly on the heels of sin. It is oftentimes delayed, may be postponed for years, may possibly never be inflicted in this world at all And meantime the wicked flourish. They sit in places of honour and authority. As it is said, “The tabernacles of robbers do prosper, and they that provoke God are secure. They are not in trouble as other men. They increase in riches, and their eyes stand out with fatness. Yea, I have seen the wicked in great power, and spreading himself like a green bay tree.” “Wherefore doth the way of the wicked prosper?”
1. It is not because God is unobservant. Ah, no. “The iniquities of the wicked are not hid from Mine eyes,” saith the Lord. He seeth our ways, pondereth our goings, hath set a print upon the very heels of our feet.
2. Nor is it because of any indifference on the part of God. Seeing our sin, He abhors it; otherwise He would not be God.
3. Nor is it for want of power. The tide marks of the deluge, remaining plain upon the rocks even unto this day, attest what an angry God can do. Why then is the sinner spared? And why is the just penalty of his guilt not laid upon us here and now? Because the Lord is merciful. Sweep the whole heavens of philosophy for a reason and you shall find none but this, the Lord is merciful. “As I live,” saith the Lord, “I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked.”
A few practical inferences--
1. The fact that a sinner is afflicted here will not exempt him hereafter from the just penalty of his ill-doing. We say of a man sometimes when the darkest waves of life are rolling over him, “He is having his retribution now.” But that cannot be.
2. The fact that a sinner does not suffer here is no evidence that he will always go scot-free. If the sentence be suspended for a timer it is only for a time--and for a definite end. The Roman emblem of Justice was an old man, with a two-edged sword, limping slowly but surely to his work.
3. The fact that the wicked are sometimes left unpunished here, is proof conclusive of a final day of reckoning. For the requital is imperfect. Alas, for justice, if its administration is to be regarded as completed on earth!
4. The fact that compensation is often delayed so long, in order that the sinner may have abundant room for repentance, is a complete vindication of God’s mercy though the fire burn forever.
5. The fact that all sin must be and is in every case, sooner or later, followed by suffering, proves the absolute necessity of the vicarious pain of Jesus. God sent forth His only-begotten and well-beloved Son to bear in His own body on the tree the retribution that should have been laid upon us. So He redeemed the lost, yet did no violence to justice. And thus it comes about that God can be just and yet the justifier of the ungodly. (D. J. Burrell, D. D.)