Responding to Bad Counsel, Part 3

Bill Meyer: Today on Insight for Living from Chuck Swindoll.
Chuck Swindoll: Shame-based counsel leaves us under an extra load of guilt. Rather than offering the hope of recovery, it shoves you further into the grave of anguish. People who are hurting don't need Genghis Khan and Mike Tyson rolled into one verbal reproof.
Bill Meyer: What do you do when you've done everything right and everything still goes wrong? And what do you do when the people around you are certain they know exactly why? Today on Insight for Living, Chuck Swindoll offers some of the most practical and honest counsel you'll hear. He's not going to pretend the answers are easy. In fact, he's going to give you permission to admit something you may have been afraid to say out loud. If you're in a confused season right now, these principles from Job chapters 4 through 7 will bring clarity and relief.
Chuck Swindoll: Job chapter 3. He's in a hole, and these three guys are thinking they've never heard Job say things like this. Of course, they've never been there. They've probably never had a boil. Eliphaz decides it's time to say something. Eliphaz is trying to get a word in and he says, "Your words have helped the tottering to stand." And they had. It’s not flattery. They had. And you have strengthened feeble knees. And he had. He says, "But now it has come to you and you're impatient." You've spent all your life giving other people counsel and telling people how to stand firm and how to make it, but now this thing has happened to you. Now we get a chapter of blast out of you. It touches you and you are dismayed. See the poetry? It has come to you and you are impatient. It touches you and you are dismayed. Is not your fear of God your confidence and the integrity of your ways your hope? Isn't that what it's about, Job? I'm not questioning your integrity, but you're impatient with this. When he gets Job strung out, listen to the twist in the knife. "Remember now, whoever perished being innocent? Or where were the upright destroyed? According to what I've seen, those who plow iniquity and those who sow trouble harvest it." Got it? You're getting what you deserve. Job, if you're that innocent, why are you here? I've observed that people suffer like this when they have sin in their life. Let the shame begin. Don't ever go there. It serves no one any good. It’s bad counsel, especially when it isn't true. The problem is he's not through. He keeps on and talks about visions in the night in verse 13. He talks about the generality, and it’s true that mankind is not perfect before God. We have a Maker and He's the perfect one. We're not. As a matter of fact, he's got it right in chapter 5 and verse 7: "We are born to trouble as the sparks fly upward." That's true. That's what's happening. But if he had just stopped there. Look at verse 8. A little pride seeps in. "Now as for me, I would seek God. I would seek God and I would place my cause before God." That's what I would do, implying you haven't done that. How does he know what Job has done? You don't always seek God verbally. Sometimes in the silence, you seek God deeply. God is the one who does great and unsearchable things. He does wonders without number. Job could have said, "I know that. I'm not sitting here like a dummy. I know that God does great and wonderful things. I am covered with boils and I've done nothing wrong, and you're giving me great theology with no understanding. Please." He has the audacity to say at the end of verse 17, "You should not despise the discipline of the Almighty, Job. You're suffering because you're guilty. You're getting just what you deserve. You're not listening to the Lord's reproofs. As a matter of fact, in the long run, you're going to be just fine. Isn't that sweet?" Look at verse 25. "You will know also that your descendants will be many, your offspring as the grass of the earth. You will come to the grave in full vigor like the stacking of grain in its season. Behold this, we have investigated this and it is and that is the way it is. Hear it and know it for yourself." That's the answer, Job. Done. No charge. Glad to give that to you. A piece of my mind I couldn't afford to lose. Before I move any further, let me say that accusation replaced compassion somewhere in Eliphaz's delivery. Don't think Job missed it. A sick person doesn't lack discernment. If you don't know and if you don't have God's clear mind with facts to prove it, please just love them and stay quiet. If there is insight to be gained, it will be gained through the comfort and tender mercy of friends. On occasion, reproofs are there and necessary, but while covered with boils, I doubt it. Job starts right where the man had forgotten. "Oh," says Job in chapter 6. Look at the first word. "Oh, that my grief were weighed, Eliphaz. I've got ten dead children. Listen to me. Oh, that my grief were actually weighed and laid in the balances together with my calamity. My grief mixed with my calamity of having lost everything. For then it would be heavier than the sand of the sea." What a great line. Some people carry weight like that. Therefore, Eliphaz, understand my words have been rash. When people are really underneath it, sometimes in the deep, deep pit of it all, out will come words that they will later deeply regret. Let them have that slack. Let your grown kids go a little nuts. Cut them some slack. They'll later understand it, but right now they've had 18, 20 years of your sermons. Let them just say it without needing to correct them. To be a great counselor requires enormous timing, great wisdom, silence, and understanding. Oh, that they could weigh my grief, my calamity. I don't think you'd say these things, Eliphaz. I do know this, says Job at the end of verse 10, "I have not denied the words of the Holy One." That's quite a statement. That's not pride. "I want you to know, Eliphaz, that in all of this, in the hating of the day I was born and in the swinging of my fist at the fact that I lived and didn't die beyond birth, and the fact that my misery has gotten unbearable, understand I've never once denied the words of the Holy One. In this heart is not doubt. It’s confusion, Eliphaz. It’s confusion." I hope you will give room to your fellow Christians to have a little time of confusion. Job even says, without being defensive, verse 22 of chapter 6, "Have I said, 'Give me something'? Or, 'Offer a bribe for me from your wealth'? Have I done that? Or, 'Deliver me from the hand of the adversary'? Have I asked you to do that? Or, 'Redeem me from the hand of tyrants'? Have I asked for that? Teach me and I will be silent. Show me how I have erred. Show me." What a wonderful statement. Eliphaz, I haven't asked for something special. I haven't sought for some corner on this that you would get involved in. How painful are honest words, but what does your argument prove? When we're all through with this, we're no better off. You're missing it. Look at verse 28. "Please look at me and see if I lie." I love that line. Eliphaz, I don't traffic in lies, by the way. Lies are absolutely damning to recovery. Self-lies, lies other people tell. See if I lie. Tell me to my face. Look at me. If you can't, then desist, meaning pull back, repent, turn around. If there is injustice on my tongue, point it out. In chapter 6, Job speaks to his friend and in chapter 7, he speaks to his God and he turns his case over to the Lord. That's what Job wanted to do. Job is saying in effect, "If I could only have a case brought before the living God, He qualifies as a judge. I would come before Him and I would lay my situation out before Him and I would say, 'Judge rightly.' I will take whatever you have to say, but He's so silent. He doesn't speak to me." Sometime the silence of God is worse than the voice because you don't know what He's trying to say. Many a sick person tucked away in a hospital, many a room with a child dying with leukemia and hollow-eyed parents sitting beside them wrestle with the silence of God. If you haven't been there, you can't imagine. Nor can I. He says to his God, "My nights are nights of trouble. They continue. The nights continue. I am continually tossing until dawn." Ever done that? Of course you have. Not like Job, but we have been restless through the night. "I've been awake all night though I've been laying in a bed. I have not slept a wink and I've been awake through the night. My head's been working on the stuff that I'm struggling with." On top of that, look at verse 5. "My flesh is clothed with worms and a crust of dirt. My skin hardens and runs. My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle and come to an end without hope." He says in a hurried moment of verse 16, "Just leave me alone. Just leave me alone, for my days are but a breath." Then he pleads in verse 20, "Have I sinned? What have I done to you, oh watcher of men?" He's talking to God. He's the one who watches us. "Why have you set me as your target? Why am I in your crosshairs? Just tell me why." Silence. "Why then do you not pardon my transgression if there is transgression? Why haven't you pardoned it? There's nothing I wouldn't confess." Haunted and bothered by the words of Eliphaz, Job speaks like a tormented man. Physically he's miserable, emotionally he is at wit's end, and spiritually he is confused. Ever been there? Just remember, in addition to all that, he has been blamed and shamed and condemned and rebuked. It's horrible. Those guys had no concept of what he was going through. Unfortunately, when they began to speak, they spewed out their thoughtless words. Let's learn some lessons. Some hurtful lessons learned from Eliphaz and some helpful lessons learned from Job. I'll make it brief. Three with Eliphaz. Number one: Assumptions reduce understanding and insight. Assumptions reduce understanding and insight. I have missed on assumptions so many times in my ministry and a number of times in my counsel. When your mind is already made up and you think you've already figured out what caused this, you can't really understand because you're not listening. You're ready to get your points across. Assumptions reduce understanding. Therefore, your words aren't insightful. They're usually condemning. Second: Shame blocks grace and hinders relief. Shame-based counsel leaves us under an extra load of guilt. Rather than offering the hope of recovery, it shoves you further into the grave of anguish. I hope you will forever remove from your lips three words: shame on you. They do no good. Here's a third from Eliphaz. Pride eclipses mercy and compassion. Pride eclipses mercy and compassion. When you come across as though you are the final answer in this situation, you stop the flow of mercy because pride is pretty stubborn. I read of this this week of a Christian leader who was traveling with his wife towards Chicago to speak. As he cruised along, he passed his exit. His wife said, "You missed the exit, honey." That just kind of made him mad. He said, "I'm driving the car. I know where I'm going. I know if I missed an exit." She said, "You better turn around." He responded, "There's no need for that." Long period of silence. He continued on. The signs ceased reading Chicago. They began talking about Detroit and other cities not so close to Chicago. She says, "Honey, honey, all the signs for Chicago have stopped. You're going the wrong way." He gritted his teeth and opted for one more exit. When they reached the exit, there was still no sign for Chicago. His wife piped up again, "Honey, stop being ridiculous and turn around." At that point, get this, every man here will understand. He decided to prove her wrong whatever it took. He began trying to think of a way to get to Chicago without turning around. There was no way. Suddenly he realized he was sinning. He confessed it, gave up, and turned around. She said, "See how easy that was?" He smiled. "Now, why didn't I do that 20 miles ago?" She said, "Because you are too proud." Guys, we really are. And some of you ladies can be so proud. Men don't have a corner on it, but we got a lot of the market. Maybe you ladies learned it from us. I don't know. How ugly it is. If it doesn't reach Chicago, I can't be too dogmatic about that because I drive 100 miles out of the way to prove I know where I'm going if I have to. Here's some positive or some helpful lessons learned from Job. There are two and they're simple. Sometimes people's words only make our troubles worse. You say, how basic can you get? Well, have you learned it? Are you still listening to everybody? No wonder you're confused. Everybody is a poor source for wisdom. Sometimes people's words only make our troubles worse. Don't fall in the trap of believing everything you hear. Every significant decision I have made in the Christian life where I've sought the counsel of others, someone has told me not to do it. They weren't evil people. They just didn't have a clue, but you would have thought they had the corner on it. Don't listen to everybody. Pick your counselors real carefully. There's a lot of bad ones out there. Not all, of course, but a lot. Job teaches us sometimes people's words only make troubles worse. Here's a second. Sometimes God's ways only make us more confused. There, I've said it. I've been wanting to say that all through this talk. So I finally worked up the courage. Don't think you need to understand everything that happens. You know what's great to practice in front of a mirror? I call it the shrug. "I don't know." I don't care if you have a PhD from Scotland. Just stand in front of the mirror and, nobody around, just go, "I don't know. I really don't know." "I can't tell you why that happened." "Well, why did all of this..." "I don't know. I don't know." The great news is that God never shrugs. He never says that. With acute perception He says, "I know exactly the way you take. I know why. I know how long, and I know the end." While you're shrugging in humility, He's saying, "Good for you. You trust Me in the mystery. You trust Me." He's never promised He will tell us His plan. He's just promised He has one. Right? If you have a real deep dark question for me, don't be surprised if I say, "I don't know." But I do know this: the death of His son was not in vain. I do know this: He died for you. I do know this: if you believe in Him, you'll go with Him forever. Heaven and all the blessings of it. I do know that. It’s a tough journey getting there, full of a lot of confusion, a lot of struggle, a lot of "I don't knows." But when the heavens open and we're there, no more shrugs. Now I know. That's why Job, in the middle of this book, says, "He knows the way that I take. When He has tried me, I shall come forth as gold. My foot has held His steps and not declined. Neither have I turned back from the commandment of His lips. I have esteemed the words of His mouth more than my necessary food." That's faith. He knows the way that I take. Let's bow together. You just may be one of those unshrugging, proud individuals who were taught that if you say you don't know, you're going to look ignorant. Really, God says you look humble. He honors that. In fact, Proverbs says there's a way that seems right to a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death. You don't know the way to righteousness unless it's through the cross. All other ways spell death. You're surrounded by people who once believed like that, and they've come to the cross. And it's there we saw the life and the light and the way, and we believed in Him. I invite you to do that today. No need to plead or beg or cajole or embarrass any of you. I offer you a gift. Yours to take. It’s paid for in full. You just take it. It’s called eternal life because Christ died and rose from the dead and lives. It’s yours to take. And all God's people said, amen.
Bill Meyer: Today, Chuck Swindoll has reminded us that bad counsel is pervasive, that shame and pride have no place in the heart of a true friend, and that trusting God in the mystery isn't weakness. It's faith. And at the end of it all, the greatest gift anyone can receive isn't good advice. It's grace. Freely offered, freely paid for. You're listening to Insight for Living. Chuck titled today's message Responding to Bad Counsel. As much as we might try, we can't dismiss the raw authenticity of Job's story. It's not just a distant parable, something tragic that happened to someone else, somewhere else, a long, long time ago. We know it's relevant because we've been there. Life was going just fine until the phone rang or the marriage cracked or the pink slip landed on your desk. Just like that, Job's story stopped being ancient history and started feeling a lot like a Tuesday. Here's what Chuck Swindoll wants you to know. Job was a real man. His losses were real losses. And the God who met him in the wreckage is the same God who is present in yours. That's the message in a classic book Chuck wrote called Finding God When the World's on Fire. This isn't a book for people with tidy lives. It's a book for the rest of us, and we'd like to send you a copy today. It's our gift to you when you include a contribution to support the ministry of Insight for Living. You can send your gift and request for the book to Insight for Living, Post Office Box 5000, Frisco, Texas, 75034. Or call us at 800-772-8888. That's 800-772-8888. Chuck Swindoll recently sat down with his friend Pastor Greg Laurie for an unfiltered conversation about their lives and ministry. To hear and see the entire interview between Chuck and Greg, go online to insight.org/conversations. That's insight.org/conversations. I'm Bill Meyer. Join us when Chuck Swindoll continues his study of Job, a man of heroic endurance, Monday on Insight for Living. The preceding message, Responding to Bad Counsel, was copyrighted in 2002, 2004, and 2025, and the sound recording was copyrighted in 2025 by Charles R. Swindoll, Incorporated. All rights are reserved worldwide. Duplication of copyrighted material for commercial use is strictly prohibited. Ends.