8:1–7 Bildad shows none of the courtesy and sensitivity of Eliphaz (cf. 4:3–4). Instead of affirmation, Bildad blasts Job with a brutal appraisal (8:2).71 He dismisses Job’s passionate claims and loud lamentations (“How long will you say these things?”; v. 2a) as a lot of hot air (Job’s “words” are like “a great wind,” v. 2b, namely, they cannot be grasped and should not be held on to).72 He follows such pastoral insensitivity with analytical and abstract theology. His tone is as cold and clinical as an operating table as he dissects Job’s defense. With the tightness of his retribution theology (see the summary above), he finds no room for innocent suffering. Like the men on Malta who saw the snake fastened on Paul’s arm as a sign that justice will punish a murderer (Acts 28:4), Bildad sees the signs of suffering as sure evidences of Job’s sin.

Job’s sin, however, must not be as awful as his children’s. Because God is just (Job 8:3), Job’s children got their just deserts (“he has delivered them into the hand of their transgression”; v. 4). But Job is still alive! And so too are his options. He can continue to act impudently, or he can go earnestly to the Almighty (“seek God”; v. 5a). God is merciful, so Bildad implores Job to “plead . . . for mercy” (v. 5b), that is, confess his sins. Or, if Job is “pure and upright” (v. 6a), as claimed, there is no need to worry:73 God will come to Job’s aid (“then he will rouse himself for you”; v. 6b) and restore health and wealth (“[He will] restore your rightful habitation. And though your beginning was small, your latter days will be very great”; vv. 6c–7). Bildad is being cynical here, but note that, ironically, he is right. God will rouse himself (chs. 38–41), vindicate Job (42:7–9), and restore Job’s fortunes (42:10–17). Job will end up better than ever (8:7b).

8:8–10 Bildad is certain of his rebuke of and advice to Job because his thought is grounded in tradition. (This might be the author’s way of ironically taking his first jab at his own wisdom tradition, or the prevalent one of his culture.) Bildad counsels Job to look beyond his own experience to “inquire” into the past (“bygone ages”) and to “consider” what their wise sages have found (“what the fathers have searched out”; v. 8). His reason makes sense: while there are exceptions (cf. 32:6–9), the older person is often wiser than the younger, and thus the OT wisdom literature often implores the young to listen to their parents, teachers, and elders. Likewise, the cumulative gathering of wisdom over time about God, people, and how the world works—that which is observed, studied, accepted as consensus, and handed down—is a reasonable foundation for one’s thoughts and actions. Bildad asks Job to consider time-tested tradition concerning the matter at hand. Surely, compared with that, what Job thinks he knows is inconsequential (“we are but of yesterday and know nothing, for our days on earth are a shadow”; 8:9). Heed the wisdom of the ancients, for their voice is reliable:

    Will they not teach you and tell you

    and utter words out of their understanding? (v. 10)

8:11–19 What the ancients can teach Job is what Bildad states next in verses 11–22. In one of the most beautiful poems in the Bible, elements and analogies are employed to press home the point that traditional retribution theology is right. The first synonymous parallelism contains two rhetorical questions (v. 11):

The answer to the above questions is obvious: no. Without water, no plant can grow. Papyrus and reeds, which can grow quickly, profusely, and to great heights, will “wither before any other plant,” even “while yet in flower and not cut down” (v. 12). So too is the fate of the wicked. “All who forget God” (v. 13a, not for a moment but as a lifestyle), namely, those without God in their lives (“the godless”), whatever hope they might have, “shall perish” like the two plants (v. 13b). Bildad then changes metaphors, adding another parallelism (v. 14),

The future of the godless is as fragile as the temporary masterpiece of the garden orbweaver. Worse than that (and piling on the parallelisms!) even something seemingly stable cannot hold him up (v. 15):

At this point we must remember that this is more than a beautiful poem; it is a rebuke directed to Job. The “he” throughout is him. Job has lost his house, his possessions, everything! And it has happened as quickly as a hurricane—or even a curious kid with a stick—obliterates a spider’s web. Thus we can think of verses 16–19 as especially pointed at our protagonist. Job was like a well-watered happy plant basking in the springtime rays (“before the sun”; v. 16a). His branches (“his shoots”) grew so vast that they “spread over” the “garden” (v. 16b). Not only that, his roots wrapped around a seemingly permanent foundation (“his roots entwine the stone heap”; v. 17a). In fact, all that this plant sees screams, “I will be around forever!” (“he looks upon a house of stones”; v. 17b).74 Yet, like a weed, if he is pulled out of his seemingly solid underpinning (“if he is destroyed from his place”; v. 18a), the gardener (God) will refute the relationship: “He will deny him, saying, ‘I have never seen you’” (v. 18b AT), or in Jesus’ words, “I never knew you” (Matt. 7:23). Indeed, as Bildad ends his poem with “behold” (Hb. hen, which we might paraphrase as “See this!” or “Listen up!”), we are to behold the outcome of the unrighteous.

    Behold, this is the joy of his way,

    and out of the soil others will spring. (Job 8:19)

The irony is thick: there is no “joy” (Hb. mesos) for the godless. Why? They are soon to be gone. The final phrase—“and out of the soil others will spring” (which is difficult to translate and harder to understand)—could refer to how the godly will grow in the place of the wicked, or to how one wicked generation produces another (i.e., there will be no end to evil offspring). Either way, Job is on the short end of the prosperous plant analogy. Likely Bildad is saying that like the godless, if Job does not repent, another weed will take his place.

8:20–22 Bildad uses a second “behold” (Hb. hen; cf. v. 19) as he wants Job to make one final consideration (v. 20):

This antithetical parallelism (i.e., “will reject” is the opposite of “take the hand”; “blameless” the opposite of “evildoers”) restates and summarizes Bildad’s theology and also initiates his final subtle appeal to Job to heed his earlier, and not so subtle, advice (“seek God and plead . . . for mercy”; v. 5). Again the imagery is awesome (e.g., God’s taking someone by the hand as symbolizing a loving and protective relationship, or, in the case of the wicked, the lack thereof) but the theology too unbending. Bildad has no room in his tight theological system for a “blameless” (Hb. tam) sufferer such as Job (tam is used of Job in 1:1, 8; 2:3; and by Job of himself in 9:20, “though I am blameless”). And to the reader, as well as Job (see chs. 9–10!), Bildad’s rigidity seems not only ruthless but unrealistic. Does he really think that every stillborn is a sign of God’s rejection and every baby born blind a token of Yahweh’s retribution?

Job 8:21–22 end on a hopeful note. If Job follows Bildad’s advice to repent, two positive benefits are sure to follow. True joy (contra v. 19) will come:

This emotional triumph is based in part on Job’s enemies’ receiving their just due. “Those who hate you will be clothed with shame, and the tent of the wicked will be no more” (v. 22). There are multiple ironies in this final line. First, Job’s friends, who have become his enemies (27:7, Hb. ʼoyebi), will soon be “clothed with shame”—the shame of having God reprimand them (42:7–8) and of having to offer a massive and expensive sacrifice through the blameless man they repeatedly shamed (42:9). Second, God in his grace will not judge these men (cf. “the wicked will be no more”; 8:22) but instead forgive them through Job. The reader is glad that God’s theological system is not as rigid as Bildad’s!75