Job 29
Introduction
Job 29 opens the great closing speech of the book — the last sustained address by Job before the young man Elihu interrupts (chs. 32–37) and God himself speaks from the whirlwind (chs. 38–41). Chapters 29–31 form a triptych: chapter 29 is memory (what was), chapter 30 is lament (what is now), and chapter 31 is oath (the final legal challenge). Together they constitute the most intimate self-portrait in the entire book.
Chapter 29 is a meditation on loss through the form of longing. Job does not argue or accuse here — he remembers. The chapter has the texture of an elegy, moving through layers of the blessed life: the private intimacy with God and family (vv. 2–6), the public honor of the city gate (vv. 7–17), the confident expectation of a long and fruitful death (vv. 18–20), and the authority of his counsel over others (vv. 21–25). Every image is bathed in the golden light of what is gone. The contrast with chapter 30 — which opens with "But now they mock me" — could not be sharper. What makes chapter 29 so moving is that it reveals not pride or self-congratulation but genuine grief over a life of real goodness that has been inexplicably stripped away. Job was not imagining his righteousness; he was genuinely that person. And he is gone.
Former Fellowship with God (vv. 2–6)
2 "How I long for the months gone by, for the days when God watched over me, 3 when His lamp shone above my head, and by His light I walked through the darkness, 4 when I was in my prime, when the friendship of God rested on my tent, 5 when the Almighty was still with me and my children were around me, 6 when my steps were bathed in cream and the rock poured out for me streams of oil!
2 "Who will give me back the months of old, the days when God watched over me — 3 when his lamp shone over my head and by his light I walked through darkness, 4 as I was in the days of my harvest, when the intimate counsel of God was over my tent, 5 when the Almighty was still with me and my children were around me, 6 when my steps were washed in cream and the rock poured out streams of oil for me!
Notes
The phrase יַרְחֵי קֶדֶם — "months of old/former times" — opens the nostalgia with a sense of deep temporal distance. קֶדֶם means both "the east" and "ancient/former times" — the east being the direction of the past in Hebrew spatial-temporal thought, where the sun rises and where origins lie.
The lamp image in v. 3 — בְּהִלּוֹ נֵרוֹ עֲלֵי רֹאשִׁי — is one of the book's most tender. נֵר, the lamp, is a common biblical metaphor for God's presence, guidance, and the divine gift of life itself (see 2 Samuel 22:29: "You, LORD, are my lamp"; Proverbs 20:27: "the human spirit is the lamp of the LORD"). God's lamp over Job's head meant orientation, protection, and clear seeing even in darkness. Now — implied by contrast — the lamp is gone, and Job walks in the dark.
The word בִּימֵי חָרְפִּי in v. 4 is rendered "in my prime" in most translations, but the Hebrew literally says "in the days of my harvest/autumn." חֹרֶף means "autumn, the harvest season" — the time of ripeness and full fruition. It is the season when a year's labor comes to completion. Job is describing his life at its most fruitful moment.
בְּסוֹד אֱלוֹהַּ — "in the counsel/intimacy of God" — is a remarkable phrase. סוֹד can refer to a secret council, an inner circle, or the deep intimacy of close confidence. It is used of the prophetic access to God's heavenly council (see Jeremiah 23:18, Amos 3:7): "Surely the Lord GOD does nothing without revealing his secret (sod) to his servants the prophets." Job says the sod of God — the intimate fellowship of the divine inner circle — rested over his tent. This is a breathtaking description of what has been lost: not just prosperity, but direct access to the divine counsel.
The abundance images of v. 6 — steps washed in cream (חֵמָה), "curd, thick cream"), rock pouring out streams of oil — are the language of extraordinary, almost supernatural fruitfulness. Olive oil flowing from rock is hyperbole, but productive hyperbole: it evokes Deuteronomy 32:13 ("he made him suck honey out of the rock, and oil out of the flinty rock"), a passage describing the lavish provision of God for his people.
Honor at the City Gate (vv. 7–17)
7 When I went out to the city gate and took my seat in the public square, 8 the young men saw me and withdrew, and the old men rose to their feet. 9 The princes refrained from speaking and covered their mouths with their hands. 10 The voices of the nobles were hushed, and their tongues stuck to the roofs of their mouths. 11 For those who heard me called me blessed, and those who saw me commended me, 12 because I rescued the poor who cried out and the fatherless who had no helper. 13 The dying man blessed me, and I made the widow's heart sing for joy. 14 I put on righteousness, and it clothed me; justice was my robe and my turban. 15 I served as eyes to the blind and as feet to the lame. 16 I was a father to the needy, and I took up the case of the stranger. 17 I shattered the fangs of the unjust and snatched the prey from his teeth.
7 When I went out to the gate of the city and took my seat in the square, 8 the young men saw me and stepped aside, and the elders rose and stood. 9 The princes stopped speaking and put their hand to their mouth. 10 The voice of the nobles fell silent, and their tongue stuck to the roof of their mouth. 11 For the ear that heard me called me blessed, and the eye that saw me bore witness for me — 12 because I delivered the poor who cried out, and the fatherless who had no one to help him. 13 The blessing of the dying came upon me, and I made the widow's heart ring with joy. 14 I put on righteousness and it clothed me; my justice was like a robe and a turban. 15 I was eyes to the blind and feet to the lame. 16 I was a father to the needy, and the case of the stranger I investigated. 17 I broke the jaws of the wicked and made him drop the prey from his teeth.
Notes
The שַׁעַר, the "gate," was the center of public life in an ancient Israelite city — the place for legal proceedings, commercial transactions, and the gathering of community leaders. To "sit at the gate" was to hold authority, to function as a judge or elder. Job's taking his seat at the gate is an act of public judicial authority, not mere social attendance.
The honor shown him is described with a kind of courtly choreography: young men (נְעָרִים) withdraw or step aside in deference; elders (יְשִׁישִׁים) — the aged men of highest standing — actually rise to their feet. Princes (שָׂרִים) fall silent; nobles (נְגִידִים) hold their tongue. This is not the deference shown to mere wealth or seniority — it is the honor given to acknowledged wisdom.
The reason for the honor is given explicitly in vv. 12–17: Job's public standing rested on his practice of justice. He rescued the poor who cried out (עָנִי מְשַׁוֵּעַ), helped the fatherless, blessed the dying, gave joy to widows, was eyes to the blind and feet to the lame. The phrase in v. 14 is one of the most beautiful in the chapter: צֶדֶק לָבַשְׁתִּי וַיִּלְבָּשֵׁנִי — "I put on righteousness, and it clothed me." The chiasm is precise: Job dressed himself in righteousness, and in return righteousness dressed him. The garments named מְעִיל, "robe") and צָנִיף, "turban") — are priestly and royal garments, the vestments of honor and authority.
The image of v. 17 is startling in its physicality: וָאֲשַׁבְּרָה מְתַלְּעוֹת עַוָּל — "I shattered the jaw-teeth of the wicked." מְתַלְּעָה specifically means the large molars or fangs — the crushing teeth of a predator. The wicked is compared to a beast with prey between its teeth; Job was the one who pried its jaws open and freed the victim. This is vigilante justice at its most direct, and Job describes it without apology as righteous action.
The Expected Future (vv. 18–20)
18 So I thought: 'I will die in my nest and multiply my days as the sand. 19 My roots will spread out to the waters, and the dew will rest nightly on my branches. 20 My glory is ever new within me, and my bow is renewed in my hand.'
18 So I said: I will die in my nest, and I will multiply my days like the sand. 19 My root is open to the waters, and dew will lodge on my branches by night. 20 My honor is ever fresh beside me, and my bow grows new in my hand.
Notes
Job's anticipated future was an old age as full as his prime — not merely surviving but flourishing to the end. The image of dying "in my nest" (בְּקִנִּי) evokes a bird peacefully expiring in its own place, surrounded by family, undisturbed. The multiplication of days "like the sand" (כַּחוֹל) echoes the promises of generational blessing — sand imagery for abundance (see Genesis 22:17). This was not hubris; it was the reasonable expectation of a life lived with integrity under God's protection.
The tree image of vv. 19 — roots stretching to water, dew on branches — recalls the righteous man of Psalm 1:3 ("he is like a tree planted by streams of water") and the vine imagery of the prophets. שָׁרְשִׁי פָתוּחַ אֱלֵי מָיִם — "my root is open/spread out to the waters" — describes the deeply established, well-nourished life. בִּקְצִירִי, "on my branch/harvest," links back to the "days of my harvest" (choref) in v. 4 — Job lived in a time of fruitfulness and expected it to continue.
The renewal of the bow (קֶשֶׁת) in v. 20 is an image of sustained masculine vitality and capacity for action. A bow that remains taut and strong — that renews itself in the hand — speaks of continuing effectiveness in the world, the ability to accomplish and defend.
The Voice of Authority (vv. 21–25)
21 Men listened to me with expectation, waiting silently for my counsel. 22 After my words, they spoke no more; my speech settled on them like dew. 23 They waited for me as for rain and drank in my words like spring showers. 24 If I smiled at them, they did not believe it; the light of my countenance was precious. 25 I chose their course and presided as chief. So I dwelt as a king among his troops, as a comforter of the mourners.
21 To me they listened and waited; they were silent for my counsel. 22 After my words they did not speak again, and my word dripped upon them like dew. 23 They waited for me as for rain, and they opened their mouths for the spring shower. 24 If I smiled at them, they could not believe it; the light of my face they did not cast down. 25 I chose their way and sat as their head; I dwelt as a king among his troops, as one who comforts those in mourning.
Notes
The rain imagery of this section is particularly rich. Job's words are compared to two kinds of life-giving precipitation: מָטָר, the general word for rain, and מַלְקוֹשׁ, the "spring rain" or "latter rain" — the rain of March-April that was crucial for bringing the grain harvest to completion. If the autumn rain (יוֹרֶה, yoreh) started the growing season, the malqosh finished it. People opened their mouths for it, drinking it in. Job's counsel was that essential, that welcomed, that determinative.
The verb תִּטֹּף מִלָּתִי — "my word dripped/fell drop by drop" — uses the same verb נָטַף (nataf) as in Deuteronomy 32:2: "may my teaching drop as the rain, my speech distill as the dew." This is explicitly the language of prophetic and wisdom speech — words that descend gently but penetrate deeply.
Verse 24 is famously difficult. The most natural reading is: "If I smiled at them, they could hardly believe it" — a smile from so august a figure was almost incredible, a gift beyond expectation. The light of his face (אוֹר פָּנַי) is a metaphor for favor and approval that appears throughout the Old Testament (see Numbers 6:25, the Aaronic blessing: "the LORD make his face shine upon you").
The chapter ends with a royal image: Job as a king among troops (כְּמֶלֶךְ בַּגְּדוּד). The word גְּדוּד — "troop, band of soldiers" — was used in Job 25:3 of God's heavenly armies. Here Job applies it to his own retinue. But the final qualification is tender: he was not only a commanding king but also כַּאֲשֶׁר אֲבֵלִים יְנַחֵם — "one who comforts the mourning." Power and compassion together — this is the life Job is lamenting. And then chapter 30 begins: But now.